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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:11:11 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:11:11 -0700 |
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diff --git a/old/orig38803-h/main.htm b/old/orig38803-h/main.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f6e6a46 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig38803-h/main.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10661 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html lang="en" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content="HTML-Kit Tools HTML Tidy plugin" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=us-ascii" /> +<title>The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll, Volume 3 (of 12) By Robert +G. Ingersoll</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + <!-- + body { text-align:justify} + P { margin:15%; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + .play { margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; text-align: justify; font-size: 100%; } + img {border: 0;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 20%;} + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 1%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: left; + color: gray; + } /* page numbers */ + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 10%; margin-left: 1%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; + margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 40%; margin-bottom: .75em; font-size: 110%;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent {font-style: italic; font-size: 100%; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + PRE { font-family: Times; font-style: italic; font-size: 100%; margin-left: 25%;} + --> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style="height: 8em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<a name="title" id="title"></a> +<h1>THE WORKS OF ROBERT G. INGERSOLL</h1> +<br /> +<h2>By Robert G. Ingersoll</h2> +<blockquote> +<p>"GIVE ME THE STORM AND TEMPEST OF THOUGHT AND ACTION, RATHER +THAN THE DEAD CALM OF IGNORANCE AND FAITH. BANISH ME FROM EDEN WHEN +YOU WILL; BUT FIRST LET ME EAT OF THE FRUIT OF THE TREE OF +KNOWLEDGE."</p> +</blockquote> +<br /> +<h3>IN TWELVE VOLUMES, VOLUME III.</h3> +<br /> +<h4>LECTURES</h4> +<br /> +<h3>1900</h3> +<br /> +<h3>THE DRESDEN EDITION</h3> +<br /> +<center><img alt="titlepage (64K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" +height="926" width="553" /></center> +<br /> +<br /> +<center><img alt="portrait (64K)" src="images/portrait.jpg" height= +"1128" width="707" /></center> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<h3>Contents</h3> +<p class="toc"><a href="#linkTOC">CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0001">SHAKESPEARE</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0002">ROBERT BURNS.*</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0003">ABRAHAM LINCOLN</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0004">VOLTAIRE.</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0005">LIBERTY IN LITERATURE.</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0006">THE GREAT INFIDELS.*</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#linkCONC">CONCLUSION.</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0008">WHICH WAY?</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0009">ABOUT THE HOLY BIBLE.</a></p> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="linkTOC" id="linkTOC"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.</h2> +<blockquote> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0001">SHAKESPEARE</a></p> +<br /> +(1891.)<br /> +I. The Greatest Genius of our World—Not of Supernatural +Origin or<br /> +of Royal Blood—Illiteracy of his +Parents—Education—His Father—His<br /> +Mother a Great Woman—Stratford Unconscious of the +Immortal<br /> +Child—Social Position of Shakespeare—Of his +Personal<br /> +Peculiarities—Birth, Marriage, and Death—What we Know +of Him—No Line<br /> +written by him to be Found—The Absurd Epitaph—II. +Contemporaries<br /> +by whom he was Mentioned—III. No direct Mention of any of +his<br /> +Contemporaries in the Plays—Events and Personages of his +Time—IV.<br /> +Position of the Actor in Shakespeare's Time—Fortunately he +was Not<br /> +Educated at Oxford—An Idealist—His Indifference to +Stage-carpentry<br /> +and Plot—He belonged to All Lands—Knew the Brain and +Heart of Man—An<br /> +Intellectual Spendthrift—V. The Baconian Theory—VI. +Dramatists before<br /> +and during the Time of Shakespeare—Dramatic Incidents +Illustrated in<br /> +Passages from "Macbeth" and "Julius Cæsar"—VII. His Use +of the Work of<br /> +Others—The Pontic Sea—A Passage from "Lear"—VIII. +Extravagance that<br /> +touches the Infinite—The Greatest Compliment—"Let me +not live after<br /> +my flame lacks oil"—Where Pathos almost Touches the +Grotesque—IX.<br /> +An Innovator and Iconoclast—Disregard of the +"Unities"—Nature<br /> +Forgets—Violation of the Classic Model—X. +Types—The Secret of<br /> +Shakespeare—Characters who Act from Reason and +Motive—What they Say<br /> +not the Opinion of Shakespeare—XI. The Procession that issued +from<br /> +Shakespeare's Brain—His Great Women—Lovable +Clowns—His Men—Talent<br /> +and Genius—XII. The Greatest of all Philosophers—Master +of the<br /> +Human Heart—Love—XIII. In the Realm of +Comparison—XIV. Definitions:<br /> +Suicide, Drama, Death, Memory, the Body, Life, Echo, the<br /> +World, Rumor—The Confidant of Nature—XV. Humor +and<br /> +Pathos—Illustrations—XVI. Not a Physician, Lawyer, or +Botanist—He was<br /> +a Man of Imagination—He lived the Life of All—The +Imagination had a<br /> +Stage in Shakespeare's Brain.<br /> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0002">ROBERT BURNS.</a></p> +<br /> +(1878.)<br /> +Poetry and Poets—Milton, Dante, Petrarch—Old-time +Poetry in<br /> +Scotland—Influence of Scenery on Literature—Lives that +are<br /> +Poems—Birth of Burns—Early Life and +Education—Scotland Emerging from<br /> +the Gloom of Calvinism—A Metaphysical Peasantry—Power +of the Scotch<br /> +Preacher—Famous Scotch Names—John Barleycorn vs. +Calvinism—Why Robert<br /> +Burns is Loved—His Reading—Made Goddesses of +Women—Poet of Love: His<br /> +"Vision," "Bonnie Doon," "To Mary in Heaven"—Poet of +Home:<br /> +"Cotter's Saturday Night," "John Anderson, My Jo"—Friendship: +"Auld<br /> +Lang-Syne"—Scotch Drink: "Willie brew'd a peck o' +maut"—Burns the<br /> +Artist: The "Brook," "Tam O'Shanter"—A Real Democrat: "A +man's a man<br /> +for a' that"—His Theology: The Dogma of Eternal Pain, +"Morality,"<br /> +"Hypocrisy," "Holy Willie's Prayer"—On the Bible—A +Statement of his<br /> +Religion—Contrasted with Tennyson—From Cradle to +Coffin—His Last<br /> +words—Lines on the Birth-place of Burns.<br /> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0003">ABRAHAM LINCOLN.</a></p> +<br /> +(1894.)<br /> +I. Simultaneous Birth of Lincoln and Darwin—Heroes of +Every<br /> +Generation—Slavery—Principle Sacrificed to +Success—Lincoln's<br /> +Childhood—His first Speech—A Candidate for the Senate +against<br /> +Douglass—II. A Crisis in the Affairs of the +Republic—The South Not<br /> +Alone Responsible for Slavery—Lincoln's Prophetic +Words—Nominated for<br /> +President and Elected in Spite of his Fitness—III. Secession +and<br /> +Civil War—The Thought uppermost in his Mind—IV. A +Crisis in the<br /> +North—Proposition to Purchase the Slaves—V. The +Proclamation of<br /> +Emancipation—His Letter to Horace Greeley—Waited on by +Clergymen—VI.<br /> +Surrounded by Enemies—Hostile Attitude of Gladstone, +Salisbury,<br /> +Louis Napoleon, and the Vatican—VII. Slavery the +Perpetual<br /> +Stumbling-block—Confiscation—VIII. His Letter to a +Republican<br /> +Meeting in Illinois—Its Effect—IX. The Power of His +Personality—The<br /> +Embodiment of Mercy—Use of the Pardoning Power—X. The +Vallandigham<br /> +Affair—The Horace Greeley Incident—Triumphs of +Humor—XI. Promotion of<br /> +General Hooker—A Prophecy and its +Fulfillment—XII.—States Rights vs.<br /> +Territorial Integrity—XIII. His Military Genius—The +Foremost Man in<br /> +all the World: and then the Horror Came—XIV. Strange Mingling +of Mirth<br /> +and Tears—Deformation of Great Historic +Characters—Washington now<br /> +only a Steel Engraving—Lincoln not a Type—Virtues +Necessary in a<br /> +New Country—Laws of Cultivated Society—In the Country +is the Idea<br /> +of Home—Lincoln always a Pupil—A Great +Lawyer—Many-sided—Wit and<br /> +Humor—As an Orator—His Speech at Gettysburg contrasted +with the<br /> +Oration of Edward Everett—Apologetic in his Kindness—No +Official<br /> +Robes—The gentlest Memory of our World.<br /> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0004">VOLTAIRE.</a></p> +<br /> +(1894.)<br /> +I. Changes wrought by Time—Throne and Altar Twin +Vultures—The King and<br /> +the Priest—What is Greatness?—Effect of Voltaire's Name +on Clergyman<br /> +and Priest—Born and Baptized—State of France in +1694—The Church<br /> +at the Head—Efficacy of Prayers and Dead Saints—Bells +and Holy<br /> +Water—Prevalence of Belief in Witches, Devils, and +Fiends—Seeds of<br /> +the Revolution Scattered by Noble and Priest—Condition in +England—The<br /> +Inquisition in full Control in Spain—Portugal and Germany +burning<br /> +Women—Italy Prostrate beneath the Priests, the Puritans in +America<br /> +persecuting Quakers, and stealing Children—II. The Days of +Youth—His<br /> +Education—Chooses Literature as a Profession and becomes a +Diplomat—In<br /> +Love and Disinherited—Unsuccessful Poem +Competition—Jansenists<br /> +and Molinists—The Bull Unigenitus—Exiled to +Tulle—Sent to the<br /> +Bastile—Exiled to England—Acquaintances made +there—III. The Morn<br /> +of Manhood—His Attention turned to the History of the +Church—The<br /> +"Triumphant Beast" Attacked—Europe Filled with the Product of +his<br /> +Brain—What he Mocked—The Weapon of Ridicule—His +Theology—His<br /> +"Retractions"—What Goethe said of Voltaire—IV. The +Scheme of<br /> +Nature—His belief in the Optimism of Pope Destroyed by the +Lisbon<br /> +Earthquake—V. His Humanity—Case of Jean Calas—The +Sirven Family—The<br /> +Espenasse Case—Case of Chevalier de la Barre and +D'Etallonde—Voltaire<br /> +Abandons France—A Friend of Education—An +Abolitionist—Not<br /> +a Saint—VI. The Return—His Reception—His +Death—Burial at<br /> +Romilli-on-the-Seine—VII. The Death-bed Argument—Serene +Demise of<br /> +the Infamous—God has no Time to defend the Good and protect +the<br /> +Pure—Eloquence of the Clergy on the Death-bed +Subject—The<br /> +Second Return—Throned upon the Bastile—The Grave +Desecrated by<br /> +Priests—Voltaire.<br /> +A Testimonial to Walt Whitman—Let us put Wreaths on the Brows +of the<br /> +Living—Literary Ideals of the American People in +1855—"Leaves of<br /> +Grass"—Its reception by the Provincial Prudes—The +Religion of the<br /> +Body—Appeal to Manhood and Womanhood—Books written for +the<br /> +Market—The Index Expurgatorius—Whitman a believer +in<br /> +Democracy—Individuality—Humanity—An Old-time +Sea-fight—What is<br /> +Poetry?—Rhyme a Hindrance to Expression—Rhythm the +Comrade of<br /> +the Poetic—Whitman's Attitude toward +Religion—Philosophy—The Two<br /> +Poems—"A Word Out of the Sea"—"When Lilacs Last in the +Door"—"A Chant<br /> +for Death"—<br /> +The History of Intellectual Progress is written in the Lives +of<br /> +Infidels—The King and the Priest—The Origin of God and +Heaven, of<br /> +the Devil and Hell—The Idea of Hell born of Ignorance, +Brutality,<br /> +Cowardice, and Revenge—The Limitations of our +Ancestors—The Devil<br /> +and God—Egotism of Barbarians—The Doctrine of Hell not +an Exclusive<br /> +Possession of Christianity—The Appeal to the +Cemetery—Religion and<br /> +Wealth, Christ and Poverty—The "Great" not on the Side of +Christ and<br /> +his Disciples—Epitaphs as Battle-cries—Some Great Men +in favor of<br /> +almost every Sect—Mistakes and Superstitions of Eminent +Men—Sacred<br /> +Books—The Claim that all Moral Laws came from God +through<br /> +the Jews—Fear—Martyrdom—God's Ways toward +Men—The Emperor<br /> +Constantine—The Death Test—Theological Comity between +Protestants and<br /> +Catholics—Julian—A childish Fable still +Believed—Bruno—His Crime,<br /> +his Imprisonment.<br /> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0005">LIBERTY IN LITERATURE.</a></p> +<br /> +(1890.)<br /> +"Old Age"—"Leaves of Grass" +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0006">THE GREAT INFIDELS.*</a></p> +<br /> +(1881.)<br /> +Martyrdom—The First to die for Truth without Expectation of +Reward—The<br /> +Church in the Time of +Voltaire—Voltaire—Diderot—David +Hume—Benedict<br /> +Spinoza—Our Infidels—Thomas +Paine—Conclusion.<br /> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0008">WHICH WAY?</a></p> +<br /> +(1884.)<br /> +I. The Natural and the Supernatural—Living for the Benefit +of<br /> +your Fellow-Man and Living for Ghosts—The Beginning of +Doubt—Two<br /> +Philosophies of Life—Two Theories of Government—II. Is +our God<br /> +superior to the Gods of the Heathen?—What our God has +done—III. Two<br /> +Theories about the Cause and Cure of Disease—The First +Physician—The<br /> +Bones of St. Anne Exhibited in New York—Archbishop Corrigan +and<br /> +Cardinal Gibbons Countenance a Theological Fraud—A Japanese +Story—The<br /> +Monk and the Miraculous Cures performed by the Bones of a +Donkey<br /> +represented as those of a Saint—IV.—Two Ways of +accounting for Sacred<br /> +Books and Religions—V-Two Theories about Morals—Nothing +Miraculous<br /> +about Morality—The Test of all Actions—VI. Search for +the<br /> +Impossible—Alchemy—"Perpetual +Motion"—Astrology—Fountain of Perpetual<br /> +Youth—VII. "Great Men" and the Superstitions in which they +have<br /> +Believed—VIII. Follies and Imbecilities of Great Men—We +do not know<br /> +what they Thought, only what they Said—Names of Great +Unbelievers—Most<br /> +Men Controlled by their Surroundings—IX. Living for God in +Switzerland,<br /> +Scotland, New England—In the Dark Ages—Let us Live for +Man—X. The<br /> +Narrow Road of Superstition—The Wide and Ample Way—Let +us Squeeze the<br /> +Orange Dry—This Was, This Is, This Shall Be.<br /> +<p class="toc"><a href="#link0009">ABOUT THE HOLY BIBLE.</a></p> +(1894.)<br /> +The Truth about the Bible Ought to be Told—I. The Origin of +the<br /> +Bible—Establishment of the Mosaic Code—Moses not the +Author of the<br /> +Pentateuch—Some Old Testament Books of Unknown +Origin—II. Is the Old<br /> +Testament Inspired?—What an Inspired Book Ought to +Be—What the Bible<br /> +Is—Admission of Orthodox Christians that it is not Inspired +as to<br /> +Science—The Enemy of Art—III. The Ten +Commandments—Omissions and<br /> +Redundancies—The Story of Achan—The Story of +Elisha—The Story of<br /> +Daniel—The Story of Joseph—IV. What is it all +Worth?—Not True, and<br /> +Contradictory—Its Myths Older than the Pentateuch—Other +Accounts<br /> +of the Creation, the Fall, etc.—Books of the Old Testament +Named<br /> +and Characterized—V. Was Jehovah a God of Love?—VI. +Jehovah's<br /> +Administration—VII. The New Testament—Many Other +Gospels besides<br /> +our Four—Disagreements—Belief in Devils—Raising +of the Dead—Other<br /> +Miracles—Would a real Miracle-worker have been +Crucified?—VIII.<br /> +The Philosophy of Christ—Love of<br /> +Enemies—Improvidence—Self-Mutilation—The Earth as +a<br /> +Footstool—Justice—A Bringer of War—Division of +Families—IX. Is Christ<br /> +our Example?—X. Why should we place Christ at the Top and +Summit of the<br /> +Human Race?—How did he surpass Other Teachers?—What he +left Unsaid,<br /> +and Why—Inspiration—Rejected Books of the New +Testament—The Bible and<br /> +the Crimes it has Caused.<br /></blockquote> +<a name="link0001" id="link0001"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>SHAKESPEARE</h2> +<h3>I.</h3> +<p>WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE was the greatest genius of our world. He +left to us the richest legacy of all the dead—the treasures +of the rarest soul that ever lived and loved and wrought of words +the statues, pictures, robes and gems of thought.</p> +<p>It is hard to overstate the debt we owe to the men and women of +genius. Take from our world what they have given, and all the +niches would be empty, all the walls naked—meaning and +connection would fall from words of poetry and fiction, music would +go back to common air, and all the forms of subtle and enchanting +Art would lose proportion and become the unmeaning waste and +shattered spoil of thoughtless Chance.</p> +<p>Shakespeare is too great a theme. I feel as though endeavoring +to grasp a globe so large that the hand obtains no hold. He who +would worthily speak of the great dramatist should be inspired by +"a muse of fire that should ascend the brightest heaven of +invention"—he should have "a kingdom for a stage, and +monarchs to behold the swelling scene."</p> +<p>More than three centuries ago, the most intellectual of the +human race was born. He was not of supernatural origin. At his +birth there were no celestial pyrotechnics. His father and mother +were both English, and both had the cheerful habit of living in +this world. The cradle in which he was rocked was canopied by +neither myth nor miracle, and in his veins there was no drop of +royal blood.</p> +<p>This babe became the wonder of mankind. Neither of his parents +could read or write. He grew up in a small and ignorant village on +the banks of the Avon, in the midst of the common people of three +hundred years ago. There was nothing in the peaceful, quiet +landscape on which he looked, nothing in the low hills, the +cultivated and undulating fields, and nothing in the murmuring +stream, to excite the imagination—nothing, so far as we can +see, calculated to sow the seeds of the subtlest and sublimest +thought.</p> +<p>So there is nothing connected with his education, or his lack of +education, that in any way accounts for what he did. It is supposed +that he attended school in his native town—but of this we are +not certain. Many have tried to show that he was, after all, of +gentle blood, but the fact seems to be the other way. Some of his +biographers have sought to do him honor by showing that he was +patronized by Queen Elizabeth, but of this there is not the +slightest proof.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, there never sat on any throne a king, +queen, or emperor who could have honored William Shakespeare.</p> +<p>Ignorant people are apt to overrate the value of what is called +education. The sons of the poor, having suffered the privations of +poverty, think of wealth as the mother of joy. On the other hand, +the children of the rich, finding that gold does not produce +happiness, are apt to underrate the value of wealth. So the +children of the educated often care but little for books, and hold +all culture in contempt. The children of great authors do not, as a +rule, become writers.</p> +<p>Nature is filled with tendencies and obstructions. Extremes +beget limitations, even as a river by its own swiftness creates +obstructions for itself.</p> +<p>Possibly, many generations of culture breed a desire for the +rude joys of savagery, and possibly generations of ignorance breed +such a longing for knowledge, that of this desire, of this hunger +of the brain, Genius is born. It may be that the mind, by lying +fallow, by remaining idle for generations, gathers strength.</p> +<p>Shakespeare's father seems to have been an ordinary man of his +time and class. About the only thing we know of him is that he was +officially reported for not coming monthly to church. This is good +as far as it goes. We can hardly blame him, because at that time +Richard Bifield was the minister at Stratford, and an extreme +Puritan, one who read the Psalter by Sternhold and Hopkins.</p> +<p>The church was at one time Catholic, but in John Shakespeare's +day it was Puritan, and in 1564, the year of Shakespeare's birth, +they had the images defaced. It is greatly to the honor of John +Shakespeare that he refused to listen to the "tidings of great joy" +as delivered by the Puritan Bifield.</p> +<p>Nothing is known of his mother, except her beautiful +name—Mary Arden. In those days but little attention was given +to the biographies of women. They were born, married, had children, +and died. No matter how celebrated their sons became, the mothers +were forgotten. In old times, when a man achieved distinction, +great pains were taken to find out about the father and +grandfather—the idea being that genius is inherited from the +father's side. The truth is, that all great men have had great +mothers. Great women have had, as a rule, great fathers.</p> +<p>The mother of Shakespeare was, without doubt, one of the +greatest of women. She dowered her son with passion and imagination +and the higher qualities of the soul, beyond all other men. It has +been said that a man of genius should select his ancestors with +great care—and yet there does not seem to be as much in +heredity as most people think. The children of the great are often +small. Pigmies are born in palaces, while over the children of +genius is the roof of straw. Most of the great are like mountains, +with the valley of ancestors on one side and the depression of +posterity on the other.</p> +<p>In his day Shakespeare was of no particular importance. It may +be that his mother had some marvelous and prophetic dreams, but +Stratford was unconscious of the immortal child. He was never +engaged in a reputable business. Socially he occupied a position +below servants. The law described him as "a sturdy vagabond." He +was neither a noble, a soldier, nor a priest. Among the +half-civilized people of England, he who amused and instructed them +was regarded as a menial. Kings had their clowns, the people their +actors and musicians. Shakespeare was scheduled as a servant. It is +thus that successful stupidity has always treated genius. Mozart +was patronized by an Archbishop—lived in the +palace,—but was compelled to eat with the scullions.</p> +<p>The composer of divine melodies was not fit to sit by the side +of the theologian, who long ago would have been forgotten but for +the fame of the composer.</p> +<p>We know but little of the personal peculiarities, of the daily +life, or of what may be called the outward Shakespeare, and it may +be fortunate that so little is known. He might have been belittled +by friendly fools. What silly stories, what idiotic personal +reminiscences, would have been remembered by those who scarcely saw +him! We have his best—his sublimest—and we have +probably lost only the trivial and the worthless. All that is known +can be written on a page.</p> +<p>We are tolerably certain of the date of his birth, of his +marriage and of his death. We think he went to London in 1586, when +he was twenty-two years old. We think that three years afterward he +was part owner of Blackfriars' Theatre. We have a few signatures, +some of which are supposed to be genuine. We know that he bought +some land—that he had two or three law-suits. We know the +names of his children. We also know that this incomparable +man—so apart from, and so familiar with, all the +world—lived during his literary life in London—that he +was an actor, dramatist and manager—that he returned to +Stratford, the place of his birth,—that he gave his writings +to negligence, deserted the children of his brain—that he +died on the anniversary of his birth at the age of fifty-two, and +that he was buried in the church where the images had been defaced, +and that on his tomb was chiseled a rude, absurd and ignorant +epitaph.</p> +<p>No letter of his to any human being has been found, and no line +written by him can be shown.</p> +<p>And here let me give my explanation of the epitaph. Shakespeare +was an actor—a disreputable business—but he made +money—always reputable. He came back from London a rich man. +He bought land, and built houses. Some of the supposed great +probably treated him with deference. When he died he was buried in +the church. Then came a reaction. The pious thought the church had +been profaned. They did not feel that the ashes of an actor were +fit to lie in holy ground. The people began to say the body ought +to be removed. Then it was, as I believe, that Dr. John Hall, +Shakespeare's son-in-law, had this epitaph cut on the tomb:</p> +<pre> + "Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbeare + To digg the dust enclosed heare: + Blest be ye man yt spares thes stones, + And curst be he yt moves my bones." +</pre> +<p>Certainly Shakespeare could have had no fear that his tomb would +be violated. How could it have entered his mind to have put a +warning, a threat and a blessing, upon his grave? But the ignorant +people of that day were no doubt convinced that the epitaph was the +voice of the dead, and so feeling they feared to invade the tomb. +In this way the dust was left in peace.</p> +<p>This epitaph gave me great trouble for years. It puzzled me to +explain why he, who erected the intellectual pyramids,—great +ranges of mountains—should put such a pebble at his tomb. But +when I stood beside the grave and read the ignorant words, the +explanation I have given flashed upon me.</p> +<center>II.</center> +<p>IT has been said that Shakespeare was hardly mentioned by his +contemporaries, and that he was substantially unknown. This is a +mistake. In 1600 a book was published called <i>England's +Parnassus</i>, and it contained ninety extracts from Shakespeare. +In the same year was published the <i>Garden of the Muses</i>, +containing several pieces from Shakespeare, Chapman, Marston and +Ben Jonson. <i>England's Helicon</i> was printed in the same year, +and contained poems from Spenser, Greene, Harvey and +Shakespeare.</p> +<p>In 1600 a play was acted at Cambridge, in which Shakespeare was +alluded to as follows: "Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare who puts +them all down." John Weaver published a book of poems in 1595, in +which there was a sonnet to Shakespeare. In 1598 Richard Bamfield +wrote a poem to Shakespeare. Francis Meres, "clergyman, master of +arts in both universities, compiler of school books," was the +author of the <i>Wits Treasury</i>. In this he compares the ancient +and modern tragic poets, and mentions Marlowe, Peele, Kyd and +Shakespeare. So he compares the writers of comedies, and mentions +Lilly, Lodge, Greene and Shakespeare. He speaks of elegiac poets, +and names Surrey, Wyatt, Sidney, Raleigh and Shakespeare. He +compares the lyric poets, and names Spenser, Drayton, Shakespeare +and others. This same writer, speaking of Horace, says that England +has Sidney, Shakespeare and others, and that "as the soul of +Euphorbus was thought to live in Pythagoras, so the sweet-wittie +soul of Ovid lives in the mellifluous and honey-tongued +Shakespeare." He also says: "If the Muses could speak English, they +would speak in Shakespeare's phrase." This was in 1598. In 1607, +John Davies alludes in a poem to Shakespeare.</p> +<p>Of course we are all familiar with what rare Ben Jonson wrote. +Henry Chettle took Shakespeare to task because he wrote nothing on +the death of Queen Elizabeth.</p> +<p>It may be wonderful that he was not better known. But is it not +wonderful that he gained the reputation that he did in so short a +time, and that twelve years after he began to write he stood at +least with the first?</p> +<center>III.</center> +<p>BUT there is a wonderful fact connected with the writings of +Shakespeare: In the Plays there is no direct mention of any of his +contemporaries. We do not know of any poet, author, soldier, +sailor, statesman, priest, nobleman, king, or queen, that +Shakespeare directly mentioned.</p> +<p>Is it not marvelous that he, living in an age of great deeds, of +adventures in far-off lands and unknown seas—in a time of +religious wars—in the days of the Armada—the massacre +of St. Bartholomew—the Edict of Nantes—the +assassination of Henry III.—the victory of Lepanto—the +execution of Marie Stuart—did not mention the name of any man +or woman of his time? Some have insisted that the paragraph ending +with the lines: "The imperial votress passed on in maiden +meditation fancy-free," referred to Queen Elizabeth; but it is +impossible for me to believe that the daubed and wrinkled face, the +small black eyes, the cruel nose, the thin lips, the bad teeth, and +the red wig of Queen Elizabeth could by any possibility have +inspired these marvelous lines.</p> +<p>It is perfectly apparent from Shakespeare's writings that he +knew but little of the nobility, little of kings and queens. He +gives to these supposed great people great thoughts, and puts great +words in their mouths and makes them speak—not as they really +did—but as Shakespeare thought such people should. This +demonstrates that he did not know them personally.</p> +<p>Some have insisted that Shakespeare mentions Queen Elizabeth in +the last scene of Henry VIII. The answer to this is that +Shakespeare did not write the last scene in that Play. The +probability is that Fletcher was the author.</p> +<p>Shakespeare lived during the great awakening of the world, when +Europe emerged from the darkness of the Middle Ages, when the +discovery of America had made England, that blossom of the +Gulf-Stream, the centre of commerce, and during a period when some +of the greatest writers, thinkers, soldiers and discoverers were +produced.</p> +<p>Cervantes was born in 1547, dying on the same day that +Shakespeare died. He was undoubtedly the greatest writer that Spain +has produced. Rubens was born in 1577. Camoens, the Portuguese, the +author of the <i>Lusiad</i>, died in 1597. Giordano +Bruno—greatest of martyrs—was born in +1548—visited London in Shakespeare's time—delivered +lectures at Oxford, and called that institution "the widow of +learning." Drake circled the globe in 1580. Galileo was born in +1564—the same year with Shakespeare. Michael Angelo died in +1563. Kepler—he of the Three Laws—born in 1571. +Calderon, the Spanish dramatist, born in 1601. Corneille, the +French poet, in 1606. Rembrandt, greatest of painters, 1607. +Shakespeare was born in 1564. In that year John Calvin died. What a +glorious exchange!</p> +<p>Seventy-two years after the discovery of America Shakespeare was +born, and England was filled with the voyages and discoveries +written by Hakluyt, and the wonders that had been seen by Raleigh, +by Drake, by Frobisher and Hawkins. London had become the centre of +the world, and representatives from all known countries were in the +new metropolis. The world had been doubled. The imagination had +been touched and kindled by discovery. In the far horizon were +unknown lands, strange shores beyond untraversed seas. Toward every +part of the world were turned the prows of adventure. All these +things fanned the imagination into flame, and this had its effect +upon the literary and dramatic world. And yet Shakespeare—the +master spirit of mankind—in the midst of these discoveries, +of these adventures, mentioned no navigator, no general, no +discoverer, no philosopher.</p> +<p>Galileo was reading the open volume of the sky, but Shakespeare +did not mention him. This to me is the most marvelous thing +connected with this most marvelous man.</p> +<p>At that time England was prosperous—was then laying the +foundation of her future greatness and power.</p> +<p>When men are prosperous, they are in love with life. Nature +grows beautiful, the arts begin to flourish, there is work for +painter and sculptor, the poet is born, the stage is +erected—and this life with which men are in love, is +represented in a thousand forms.</p> +<p>Nature, or Fate, or Chance prepared a stage for Shakespeare, and +Shakespeare prepared a stage for Nature.</p> +<p>Famine and faith go together. In disaster and want the gaze of +man is fixed upon another world. He that eats a crust has a creed. +Hunger falls upon its knees, and heaven, looked for through tears, +is the mirage of misery. But prosperity brings joy and wealth and +leisure—and the beautiful is born.</p> +<p>One of the effects of the world's awakening was Shakespeare. We +account for this man as we do for the highest mountain, the +greatest river, the most perfect gem. We can only say: He was.</p> +<pre> + "It hath been taught us from the primal state + That he which is was wished until he were." +</pre> +<center>IV.</center> +<p>IN Shakespeare's time the actor was a vagabond, the dramatist a +disreputable person—and yet the greatest dramas were then +written. In spite of law, and social ostracism, Shakespeare reared +the many-colored dome that fills and glorifies the intellectual +heavens.</p> +<p>Now the whole civilized world believes in the theatre—asks +for some great dramatist—is hungry for a play worthy of the +century, is anxious to give gold and fame to any one who can +worthily put our age upon the stage—and yet no great play has +been written since Shakespeare died.</p> +<p>Shakespeare pursued the highway of the right. He did not seek to +put his characters in a position where it was right to do wrong. He +was sound and healthy to the centre. It never occurred to him to +write a play in which a wife's lover should be jealous of her +husband.</p> +<p>There was in his blood the courage of his thought. He was true +to himself and enjoyed the perfect freedom of the highest art. He +did not write according to rules—but smaller men make rules +from what he wrote.</p> +<p>How fortunate that Shakespeare was not educated at +Oxford—that the winged god within him never knelt to the +professor. How fortunate that this giant was not captured, tied and +tethered by the literary Lilliputians of his time.</p> +<p>He was an idealist. He did not—like most writers of our +time—take refuge in the real, hiding a lack of genius behind +a pretended love of truth. All realities are not poetic, or +dramatic, or even worth knowing. The real sustains the same +relation to the ideal that a stone does to a statue—or that +paint does to a painting. Realism degrades and impoverishes. In no +event can a realist be more than an imitator and copyist. According +to the realist's philosophy, the wax that receives and retains an +image is an artist.</p> +<p>Shakespeare did not rely on the stage-carpenter, or the scenic +painter. He put his scenery in his lines. There you will find +mountains and rivers and seas, valleys and cliffs, violets and +clouds, and over all "the firmament fretted with gold and fire." He +cared little for plot, little for surprise. He did not rely on +stage effects, or red fire. The plays grow before your eyes, and +they come as the morning comes. Plot surprises but once. There must +be something in a play besides surprise. Plot in an author is a +kind of strategy—that is to say, a sort of cunning, and +cunning does not belong to the highest natures.</p> +<p>There is in Shakespeare such a wealth of thought that the plot +becomes almost immaterial—and such is this wealth that you +can hardly know the play—there is too much. After you have +heard it again and again, it seems as pathless as an untrodden +forest.</p> +<p>He belonged to all lands. "Timon of Athens" is as Greek as any +tragedy of Eschylus. "Julius Cæsar" and "Coriolanus" are +perfect Roman, and as you read, the mighty ruins rise and the +Eternal City once again becomes the mistress of the world. No play +is more Egyptian than "Antony and Cleopatra"—the Nile runs +through it, the shadows of the pyramids fall upon it, and from its +scenes the Sphinx gazes forever on the outstretched sands.</p> +<p>In "Lear" is the true pagan spirit. "Romeo and Juliet" is +Italian—everything is sudden, love bursts into immediate +flower, and in every scene is the climate of the land of poetry and +passion.</p> +<p>The reason of this is that Shakespeare dealt with elemental +things, with universal man. He knew that locality colors without +changing, and that in all surroundings the human heart is +substantially the same.</p> +<p>Not all the poetry written before his time would make his +sum—not all that has been written since, added to all that +was written before, would equal his.</p> +<p>There was nothing within the range of human thought, within the +horizon of intellectual effort, that he did not touch. He knew the +brain and heart of man—the theories, customs, superstitions, +hopes, fears, hatreds, vices and virtues of the human race.</p> +<p>He knew the thrills and ecstasies of love, the savage joys of +hatred and revenge. He heard the hiss of envy's snakes and watched +the eagles of ambition soar. There was no hope that did not put its +star above his head—no fear he had not felt—no joy that +had not shed its sunshine on his face. He experienced the emotions +of mankind. He was the intellectual spendthrift of the world. He +gave with the generosity, the extravagance, of madness.</p> +<p>Read one play, and you are impressed with the idea that the +wealth of the brain of a god has been exhausted—that there +are no more comparisons, no more passions to be expressed, no more +definitions, no more philosophy, beauty, or sublimity to be put in +words—and yet, the next play opens as fresh as the dewy gates +of another day.</p> +<p>The outstretched wings of his imagination filled the sky. He was +the intellectual crown o' the earth.</p> +<center>V.</center> +<p>THE plays of Shakespeare show so much knowledge, thought and +learning, that many people—those who imagine that +universities furnish capacity—contend that Bacon must have +been the author.</p> +<p>We know Bacon. We know that he was a scheming politician, a +courtier, a time-server of church and king, and a corrupt judge. We +know that he never admitted the truth of the Copernican +system—that he was doubtful whether instruments were of any +advantage in scientific investigation—that he was ignorant of +the higher branches of mathematics, and that, as a matter of fact, +he added but little to the knowledge of the world. When he was more +than sixty years of age he turned his attention to poetry, and +dedicated his verses to George Herbert.</p> +<p>If you will read these verses you will say that the author of +"Lear" and "Hamlet" did not write them.</p> +<p>Bacon dedicated his work on the <i>Advancement of Learning, +Divine and Human</i>, to James I., and in his dedication he stated +that there had not been, since the time of Christ, any king or +monarch so learned in all erudition, divine or human. He placed +James the First before Marcus Aurelius and all other kings and +emperors since Christ, and concluded by saying that James the First +had "the power and fortune of a king, the illumination of a priest, +the learning and universality of a philosopher." This was written +of James the First, described by Macaulay as a "stammering, +slobbering, trembling coward, whose writings were deformed by the +grossest and vilest superstitions—witches being the special +objects of his fear, his hatred, and his persecution."</p> +<p>It seems to have been taken for granted that if Shakespeare was +not the author of the great dramas, Lord Bacon must have been.</p> +<p>It has been claimed that Bacon was the greatest philosopher of +his time. And yet in reading his works we find that there was in +his mind a strange mingling of foolishness and philosophy. He takes +pains to tell us, and to write it down for the benefit of +posterity, that "snow is colder than water, because it hath more +spirit in it, and that quicksilver is the coldest of all metals, +because it is the fullest of spirit."</p> +<p>He stated that he hardly believed that you could contract air by +putting opium on top of the weather glass, and gave the following +reason:</p> +<p>"I conceive that opium and the like make spirits fly rather by +malignity than by cold."</p> +<p>This great philosopher gave the following recipe for staunching +blood:</p> +<p>"Thrust the part that bleedeth into the body of a capon, new +ripped and bleeding. This will staunch the blood. The blood, as it +seemeth, sucking and drawing up by similitude of substance the +blood it meeteth with, and so itself going back."</p> +<p>The philosopher also records this important fact: "Divers +witches among heathen and Christians have fed upon man's flesh to +aid, as it seemeth, their imagination with high and foul +vapors."</p> +<p>Lord Bacon was not only a philosopher, but he was a biologist, +as appears from the following:</p> +<p>"As for living creatures, it is certain that their vital spirits +are a substance compounded of an airy and flamy matter, and +although air and flame being free will not mingle, yet bound in by +a body that hath some fixing, will."</p> +<p>Now and then the inventor of deduction reasons by analogy. He +says:</p> +<p>"As snow and ice holpen, and their cold activated by nitre or +salt, will turn water into ice, so it may be it will turn wood or +stiff clay into stone."</p> +<p>Bacon seems to have been a believer in the transmutation of +metals, and solemnly gives a formula for changing silver or copper +into gold. He also believed in the transmutation of plants, and had +arrived at such a height in entomology that he informed the world +that "insects have no blood."</p> +<p>It is claimed that he was a great observer, and as evidence of +this he recorded the wonderful fact that "tobacco cut and dried by +the fire loses weight" that "bears in the winter wax fat in sleep, +though they eat nothing" that "tortoises have no bones" that "there +is a kind of stone, if ground and put in water where cattle drink, +the cows will give more milk" that "it is hard to cure a hurt in a +Frenchman's head, but easy in his leg;" that "it is hard to cure a +hurt in an Englishman's leg, but easy in his head;" that "wounds +made with brass weapons are easier to cure than those made with +iron;" that "lead will multiply and increase, as in statues buried +in the ground" and that "the rainbow touching anything causeth a +sweet smell."</p> +<p>Bacon seems also to have turned his attention to ornithology, +and says that "eggs laid in the full of the moon breed better +birds," and that "you can make swallows white by putting ointment +on the eggs before they are hatched."</p> +<p>He also informs us "that witches cannot hurt kings as easily as +they can common people" that "perfumes dry and strengthen the +brain" that "any one in the moment of triumph can be injured by +another who casts an envious eye, and the injury is greatest when +the envious glance comes from the oblique eye."</p> +<p>Lord Bacon also turned his attention to medicine, and he states +that "bracelets made of snakes are good for curing cramps" that +"the skin of a wolf might cure the colic, because a wolf has great +digestion" that "eating the roasted brains of hens and hares +strengthens the memory" that "if a woman about to become a mother +eats a good many quinces and considerable coriander seed, the child +will be ingenious," and that "the moss which groweth on the skull +of an unburied dead man is good for staunching blood."</p> +<p>He expresses doubt, however, "as to whether you can cure a wound +by putting ointment on the weapon that caused the wound, instead of +on the wound itself."</p> +<p>It is claimed by the advocates of the Baconian theory that their +hero stood at the top of science; and yet "it is absolutely certain +that he was ignorant of the law of the acceleration of falling +bodies, although the law had been made known and printed by Galileo +thirty years before Bacon wrote upon the subject. Neither did this +great man understand the principle of the lever. He was not +acquainted with the precession of the equinoxes, and as a matter of +fact was ill-read in those branches of learning in which, in his +time, the most rapid progress had been made."</p> +<p>After Kepler discovered his third law, which was on the 15th of +May, 1618, Bacon was more than ever opposed to the Copernican +system. This great man was far behind his own time, not only in +astronomy, but in mathematics. In the preface to the "De-scriptio +Globi Intellectualis," it is admitted either that Bacon had never +heard of the correction of the parallax, or was unable to +understand it. He complained on account of the want of some method +for shortening mathematical calculations; and yet "Napier's +Logarithms" had been printed nine years before the date of his +complaint.</p> +<p>He attempted to form a table of specific gravities by a rude +process of his own, a process that no one has ever followed; and he +did this in spite of the fact that a far better method existed.</p> +<p>We have the right to compare what Bacon wrote with what it is +claimed Shakespeare produced. I call attention to one +thing—to Bacon's opinion of human love. It is this:</p> +<p>"The stage is more beholding to love than the life of man. As to +the stage, love is ever matter of comedies and now and then of +tragedies, but in life it doth much mischief—sometimes like a +siren, sometimes like a fury. Amongst all the great and worthy +persons there is not one that hath been transported to the mad +degree of love, which shows that great spirits and great business +do keep out this weak passion."</p> +<p>The author of "Romeo and Juliet" never wrote that.</p> +<p>It seems certain that the author of the wondrous Plays was one +of the noblest of men.</p> +<p>Let us see what sense of honor Bacon had.</p> +<p>In writing commentaries on certain passages of Scripture, Lord +Bacon tells a courtier, who has committed some offence, how to get +back into the graces of his prince or king. Among other things he +tells him not to appear too cheerful, but to assume a very grave +and modest face; not to bring the matter up himself; to be +extremely industrious, so that the prince will see that it is hard +to get along without him; also to get his friends to tell the +prince or king how badly he, the courtier, feels; and then he says, +all these failing, "let him contrive to transfer the fault to +others."</p> +<p>It is true that we know but little of Shakespeare, and +consequently do not positively know that he did not have the +ability to write the Plays—but we do know Bacon, and we know +that he could not have written these Plays—consequently, they +must have been written by a comparatively unknown man—that is +to say, by a man who was known by no other writings. The fact that +we do not know Shakespeare, except through the Plays and Sonnets, +makes it possible for us to believe that he was the author.</p> +<p>Some people have imagined that the Plays were written by +several—but this only increases the wonder, and adds a +useless burden to credulity.</p> +<p>Bacon published in his time all the writings that he claimed. +Naturally, he would have claimed his best. Is it possible that +Bacon left the wondrous children of his brain on the door-step of +Shakespeare, and kept the deformed ones at home? Is it possible +that he fathered the failures and deserted the perfect?</p> +<p>Of course, it is wonderful that so little has been found +touching Shakespeare—but is it not equally wonderful, if +Bacon was the author, that not a line has been found in all his +papers, containing a suggestion, or a hint, that he was the writer +of these Plays? Is it not wonderful that no fragment of any +scene—no line—no word—has been found?</p> +<p>Some have insisted that Bacon kept the authorship secret because +it was disgraceful to write Plays. This argument does not cover the +Sonnets—and besides, one who had been stripped of the robes +of office for receiving bribes as a judge, could have borne the +additional disgrace of having written "Hamlet." The fact that Bacon +did not claim to be the author, demonstrates that he was not. +Shakespeare claimed to be the author, and no one in his time or day +denied the claim. This demonstrates that he was.</p> +<p>Bacon published his works, and said to the world: This is what I +have done.</p> +<p>Suppose you found in a cemetery a monument erected to John +Smith, inventor of the Smith-churn, and suppose you were told that +Mr. Smith provided for the monument in his will, and dictated the +inscription—would it be possible to convince you that Mr. +Smith was also the inventor of the locomotive and telegraph?</p> +<p>Bacon's best can be compared with Shakespeare's common, but +Shakespeare's best rises above Bacon's best, like a domed temple +above a beggar's hut.</p> +<center>VI.</center> +<p>OF course it is admitted that there were many dramatists before +and during the time of Shakespeare—but they were only the +foot hills of that mighty peak the top of which the clouds and +mists still hide. Chapman and Marlowe, Heywood and Jonson, Webster, +Beaumont and Fletcher wrote some great lines, and in the monotony +of declamation now and then is found a strain of genuine +music—but all of them together constituted only a herald of +Shakespeare. In all these Plays there is but a hint, a prophecy, of +the great drama destined to revolutionize the poetic thought of the +world.</p> +<p>Shakespeare was the greatest of poets. What Greece and Rome +produced was great until his time. "Lions make leopards tame."</p> +<p>The great poet is a great artist. He is painter and sculptor. +The greatest pictures and statues have been painted and chiseled +with words. They outlast all others. All the galleries of the world +are poor and cheap compared with the statues and pictures in +Shakespeare's book.</p> +<p>Language is made of pictures represented by sounds. The outer +world is a dictionary of the mind, and the artist called the soul +uses this dictionary of things to express what happens in the +noiseless and invisible world of thought. First a sound represents +something in the outer world, and afterwards something in the +inner, and this sound at last is represented by a mark, and this +mark stands for a picture, and every brain is a gallery, and the +artists—that is to say, the souls—exchange pictures and +statues.</p> +<p>All art is of the same parentage. The poet uses +words—makes pictures and statues of sounds. The sculptor +expresses harmony, proportion, passion, in marble; the composer, in +music; the painter in form and color. The dramatist expresses +himself not only in words, not only paints these pictures, but he +expresses his thought in action.</p> +<p>Shakespeare was not only a poet, but a dramatist, and expressed +the ideal, the poetic, not only in words, but in action. There are +the wit, the humor, the pathos, the tragedy of situation, of +relation. The dramatist speaks and acts through others—his +personality is lost. The poet lives in the world of thought and +feeling, and to this the dramatist adds the world of action. He +creates characters that seem to act in accordance with their own +natures and independently of him. He compresses lives into hours, +tells us the secrets of the heart, shows us the springs of +action—how desire bribes the judgment and corrupts the +will—how weak the reason is when passion pleads, and how +grand it is to stand for right against the world.</p> +<p>It is not enough to say fine things,—great things, +dramatic things, must be done.</p> +<p>Let me give you an illustration of dramatic incident +accompanying the highest form of poetic expression:</p> +<p>Macbeth having returned from the murder of Duncan says to his +wife:</p> +<pre> + "Methought I heard a voice cry: Sleep no more, + Macbeth does murder sleep; the innocent sleep; + Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, + The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, + Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course, + Chief nourisher in life's feast."... + + "Still it cried: Sleep no more, to all the house, + Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor + Shall sleep no more—Macbeth shall sleep no more." +</pre> +<p>She exclaims:</p> +<pre> + "Who was it that thus cried? + Why, worthy Thane, you do unbend your noble strength + To think so brain-sickly of things; get some water, + And wash this filthy witness from your hand. + Why did you bring the daggers from the place?" +</pre> +<p>Macbeth was so overcome with horror at his own deed, that he not +only mistook his thoughts for the words of others, but was so +carried away and beyond himself that he brought with him the +daggers—the evidence of his guilt—the daggers that he +should have left with the dead. This is dramatic.</p> +<p>In the same play, the difference of feeling before and after the +commission of a crime is illustrated to perfection. When Macbeth is +on his way to assassinate the king, the bell strikes, and he says, +or whispers:</p> +<pre> + "Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell." +</pre> +<p>Afterward, when the deed has been committed, and a knocking is +heard at the gate, he cries:</p> +<pre> + "Wake Duncan with thy knocking. I would thou couldst." +</pre> +<p>Let me give one more instance of dramatic action. When Antony +speaks above the body of Cæsar he says:</p> +<pre> + "You all do know this mantle: + I remember The first time ever Cæsar put it on— + 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, + That day he overcame the Nervii: + Look! In this place ran Cassius' dagger through: + See what a rent the envious Casca made! + Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed, + And as he plucked his cursed steel away, + Mark how the blood of Cæsar followed it." +</pre> +<center>VII.</center> +<p>THERE are men, and many of them, who are always trying to show +that somebody else chiseled the statue or painted the +picture,—that the poem is attributed to the wrong man, and +that the battle was really won by a subordinate.</p> +<p>Of course Shakespeare made use of the work of others—and, +we might almost say, of all others. Every writer must use the work +of others. The only question is, how the accomplishments of other +minds are used, whether as a foundation to build higher, or whether +stolen to the end that the thief may make a reputation for himself, +without adding to the great structure of literature.</p> +<p>Thousands of people have stolen stones from the Coliseum to make +huts for themselves. So thousands of writers have taken the +thoughts of others with which to adorn themselves. These are +plagiarists. But the man who takes the thought of another, adds to +it, gives it intensity and poetic form, throb and life,—is in +the highest sense original.</p> +<p>Shakespeare found nearly all of his facts in the writings of +others, and was indebted to others for most of the stories of his +plays. The question is not: Who furnished the stone, or who owned +the quarry, but who chiseled the statue?</p> +<p>We now know all the books that Shakespeare could have read, and +consequently know many of the sources of his information. We find +in Pliny's <i>Natural History</i>, published in 1601, the +following: "The sea Pontis evermore floweth and runneth out into +the Propontis; but the sea never retireth back again with the +Impontis." This was the raw material, and out of it Shakespeare +made the following:</p> +<pre> + "Like to the Pontic Sea, + Whose icy current and compulsive course + Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on + To the Propontic and the Hellespont— + Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, + Shall ne'er turn back, ne'er ebb to humble love, + Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up." +</pre> +<p>Perhaps we can give an idea of the difference between +Shakespeare and other poets, by a passage from "Lear." When +Cordelia places her hand upon her father's head and speaks of the +night and of the storm, an ordinary poet might have said:</p> +<pre> + "On such a night, a dog + Should have stood against my fire." +</pre> +<p>A very great poet might have gone a step further and +exclaimed:</p> +<pre> + "On such a night, mine enemy's dog + Should have stood against my fire." +</pre> +<p>But Shakespeare said:</p> +<pre> + "Mine enemy's dog, though he had bit me, + Should have stood, that night, against my fire." +</pre> +<p>Of all the poets—of all the writers—Shakespeare is +the most original. He is as original as Nature.</p> +<p>It may truthfully be said that "Nature wants stuff to vie +strange forms with fancy, to make another."</p> +<center>VIII.</center> +<p>THERE is in the greatest poetry a kind of extravagance that +touches the infinite, and in this Shakespeare exceeds all +others.</p> +<p>You will remember the description given of the voyage of Paris +in search of Helen:</p> +<pre> + "The seas and winds, old wranglers, made a truce, + And did him service; he touched the ports desired, + And for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held captive, + He brought a Grecian queen whose youth and freshness + Wrinkles Apollo, and makes stale the morning." +</pre> +<p>So, in Pericles, when the father finds his daughter, he cries +out:</p> +<pre> + "O Helicanus! strike me, honored sir; + Give me a gash, put me to present pain, + Lest this great sea of joys, rushing upon me, + O'erbear the shores of my mortality." +</pre> +<p>The greatest compliment that man has ever paid to the woman he +adores is this line:</p> +<pre> + "Eyes that do mislead the morn." +</pre> +<p>Nothing can be conceived more perfectly poetic. In that +marvelous play, the "Midsummer Night's Dream," is one of the most +extravagant things in literature:</p> +<pre> + "Thou rememberest Since once I sat upon a promontory, + And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back + Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath + That the rude sea grew civil at her song, + And certain stars shot madly from their spheres + To hear the sea-maid's music." +</pre> +<p>This is so marvelously told that it almost seems probable.</p> +<p>So the description of Mark Antony:</p> +<pre> + "For his bounty + There was no winter in't—an autumn t'was + That grew the more by reaping. + + His delights + Were dolphin-like—they showed his back above + The element they lived in." +</pre> +<p>Think of the astronomical scope and amplitude of this:</p> +<pre> + "Her bed is India—there she lies a pearl." +</pre> +<p>Is there anything more intense than these words of +Cleopatra?</p> +<pre> + "Rather on Nilus mud lay me stark naked + And let the water-flies blow me into abhorring." +</pre> +<p>Or this of Isabella:</p> +<pre> + "The impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, + And strip myself to death as to a bed + That longing I've been sick for, ere I yield + My body up to shame." +</pre> +<p>Is there an intellectual man in the world who will not agree +with this?</p> +<pre> + "Let me not live + After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff + Of younger spirits." +</pre> +<p>Can anything exceed the words of Troilus when parting with +Cressida:</p> +<pre> + "We two, that with so many thousand sighs + Did buy each other, most poorly sell ourselves + With the rude brevity and discharge of one. + Injurious time now with a robber's haste + Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how; + As many farewells as be stars in heaven, + With distinct breath and consigned kisses to them, + He fumbles up into a loos'e adieu, + And scants us with a single famished kiss, + Distasted with the salt of broken tears." +</pre> +<p>Take this example, where pathos almost touches the +grotesque.</p> +<pre> + "O dear Juliet, why art thou yet so fair? + Shall I believe that unsubstantial death is amorous, + And that the lean, abhorred monster keeps thee here. + I' the dark, to be his paramour?" +</pre> +<p>Often when reading the marvelous lines of Shakespeare, I feel +that his thoughts are "too subtle potent, tuned too sharp in +sweetness, for the capacity of my ruder powers." Sometimes I cry +out, "O churl!—write all, and leave no thoughts for those who +follow after."</p> +<center>IX.</center> +<p>SHAKESPEARE was an innovator, an iconoclast. He cared nothing +for the authority of men or of schools. He violated the "unities," +and cared nothing for the models of the ancient world.</p> +<p>The Greeks insisted that nothing should be in a play that did +not tend to the catastrophe. They did not believe in the +episode—in the sudden contrasts of light and shade—in +mingling the comic and the tragic. The sunlight never fell upon +their tears, and darkness did not overtake their laughter. They +believed that nature sympathized or was in harmony with the events +of the play. When crime was about to be committed—some horror +to be perpetrated—the light grew dim, the wind sighed, the +trees shivered, and upon all was the shadow of the coming +event.</p> +<p>Shakespeare knew that the play had little to do with the tides +and currents of universal life—that Nature cares neither for +smiles nor tears, for life nor death, and that the sun shines as +gladly on coffins as on cradles.</p> +<p>The first time I visited the Place de la Concorde, where during +the French Revolution stood the guillotine, and where now stands an +Egyptian obelisk—a bird, sitting on the top, was singing with +all its might.—Nature forgets.</p> +<p>One of the most notable instances of the violation by +Shakespeare of the classic model, is found in the 6th scene of the +I. Act of Macbeth.</p> +<p>When the King and Banquo approach the castle in which the King +is to be murdered that night, no shadow falls athwart the +threshold. So beautiful is the scene that the King says:</p> +<pre> + "This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air + Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself + Unto our gentle senses." +</pre> +<p>And Banquo adds:</p> +<pre> + "This guest of summer, + The temple-haunting martlet, does approve + By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath + Smells wooingly here; no jutty, frieze, + Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird + Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle. + Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed + The air is delicate." +</pre> +<p>Another notable instance is the porter scene immediately +following the murder. So, too, the dialogue with the clown who +brings the asp to Cleopatra just before the suicide, illustrates my +meaning.</p> +<p>I know of one paragraph in the Greek drama worthy of +Shakespeare. This is in "Medea." When Medea kills her children she +curses Jason, using the ordinary Billingsgate and papal curse, but +at the conclusion says: "I pray the gods to make him virtuous, that +he may the more deeply feel the pang that I inflict."</p> +<p>Shakespeare dealt in lights and shadows. He was intense. He put +noons and midnights side by side. No other dramatist would have +dreamed of adding to the pathos—of increasing our +appreciation of Lear's agony, by supplementing the wail of the mad +king with the mocking laughter of a loving clown.</p> +<center>X.</center> +<p>THE ordinary dramatists—the men of talent—(and there +is the same difference between talent and genius that there is +between a stone-mason and a sculptor) create characters that become +types. Types are of necessity caricatures—actual men and +women are to some extent contradictory in their actions. Types are +blown in the one direction by the one wind—characters have +pilots.</p> +<p>In real people, good and evil mingle. Types are all one way, or +all the other—all good, or all bad, all wise, or all +foolish.</p> +<p>Pecksniff was a perfect type, a perfect hypocrite—and will +remain a type as long as language lives—a hypocrite that even +drunkenness could not change. Everybody understands Pecksniff, and +compared with him Tartuffe was an honest man.</p> +<p>Hamlet is an individual, a person, an actual being—and for +that reason there is a difference of opinion as to his motives and +as to his character. We differ about Hamlet as we do about +Cæsar, or about Shakespeare himself.</p> +<p>Hamlet saw the ghost of his father and heard again his fathers +voice, and yet, afterward, he speaks of "the undiscovered country +from whose bourne no traveler returns."</p> +<p>In this there is no contradiction. The reason outweighs the +senses. If we should see a dead man rise from his grave, we would +not, the next day, believe that we did. No one can credit a miracle +until it becomes so common that it ceases to be miraculous.</p> +<p>Types are puppets—controlled from without—characters +act from within. There is the same difference between characters +and types that there is between springs and water-works, between +canals and rivers, between wooden soldiers and heroes.</p> +<p>In most plays and in most novels the characters are so shadowy +that we have to piece them out with the imagination.</p> +<p>One waking in the morning sometimes sees at the foot of his bed +a strange figure—it may be of an ancient lady with cap and +ruffles and with the expression of garrulous and fussy old +age—but when the light gets stronger, the figure gradually +changes and he sees a few clothes on a chair.</p> +<p>The dramatist lives the lives of others, and in order to +delineate character must not only have imagination but sympathy +with the character delineated. The great dramatist thinks of a +character as an entirety, as an individual.</p> +<p>I once had a dream, and in this dream I was discussing a subject +with another man. It occurred to me that I was dreaming, and I then +said to myself: If this is a dream, I am doing the talking for both +sides—consequently I ought to know in advance what the other +man is going to say. In my dream I tried the experiment. I then +asked the other man a question, and before he answered made up my +mind what the answer was to be. To my surprise, the man did not say +what I expected he would, and so great was my astonishment that I +awoke.</p> +<p>It then occurred to me that I had discovered the secret of +Shakespeare. He did, when awake, what I did when asleep—that +is, he threw off a character so perfect that it acted independently +of him.</p> +<p>In the delineation of character Shakespeare has no rivals. He +creates no monsters. His characters do not act without reason, +without motive.</p> +<p>Iago had his reasons. In Caliban, nature was not +destroyed—and Lady Macbeth certifies that the woman still was +in her heart, by saying:</p> +<pre> + "Had he not resembled my father as he slept, I had done it." +</pre> +<p>Shakespeare's characters act from within. They are centres of +energy. They are not pushed by unseen hands, or pulled by unseen +strings. They have objects, desires. They are persons—real, +living beings.</p> +<p>Few dramatists succeed in getting their characters loose from +the canvas—their backs stick to the wall—they do not +have free and independent action—they have no background, no +unexpressed motives—no untold desires. They lack the +complexity of the real.</p> +<p>Shakespeare makes the character true to itself. Christopher Sly, +surrounded by the luxuries of a lord, true to his station, calls +for a pot of the smallest ale.</p> +<p>Take one expression by Lady Macbeth. You remember that after the +murder is discovered—after the alarm bell is rung—she +appears upon the scene wanting to know what has happened. Macduff +refuses to tell her, saying that the slightest word would murder as +it fell. At this moment Banquo comes upon the scene and Macduff +cries out to him:</p> +<pre> + "Our royal master's murdered." +</pre> +<p>What does Lady Macbeth then say? She in fact makes a confession +of guilt. The weak point in the terrible tragedy is that Duncan was +murdered in Macbeth's castle. So when Lady Macbeth hears what they +suppose is news to her, she cries:</p> +<pre> + "What! In our house!" +</pre> +<p>Had she been innocent, her horror of the crime would have made +her forget the place—the venue. Banquo sees through this, and +sees through her.</p> +<p>Her expression was a light, by which he saw her guilt—and +he answers:</p> +<pre> + "Too cruel anywhere." +</pre> +<p>No matter whether Shakespeare delineated clown or king, warrior +or maiden—no matter whether his characters are taken from the +gutter or the throne—each is a work of consummate art, and +when he is unnatural, he is so splendid that the defect is +forgotten.</p> +<p>When Romeo is told of the death of Juliet, and thereupon makes +up his mind to die upon her grave, he gives a description of the +shop where poison could be purchased. He goes into particulars and +tells of the alligators stuffed, of the skins of ill-shaped fishes, +of the beggarly account of empty boxes, of the remnants of +pack-thread, and old cakes of roses—and while it is hardly +possible to believe that under such circumstances a man would take +the trouble to make an inventory of a strange kind of drug-store, +yet the inventory is so perfect—the picture is so marvelously +drawn—that we forget to think whether it is natural or +not.</p> +<p>In making the frame of a great picture—of a great +scene—Shakespeare was often careless, but the picture is +perfect. In making the sides of the arch he was negligent, but when +he placed the keystone, it burst into blossom. Of course there are +many lines in Shakespeare that never should have been written. In +other words, there are imperfections in his plays. But we must +remember that Shakespeare furnished the torch that enables us to +see these imperfections.</p> +<p>Shakespeare speaks through his characters, and we must not +mistake what the characters say, for the opinion of Shakespeare. No +one can believe that Shakespeare regarded life as "a tale told by +an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." That was the +opinion of a murderer, surrounded by avengers, and whose +wife—partner in his crimes—troubled with thick-coming +fancies—had gone down to her death.</p> +<p>Most actors and writers seem to suppose that the lines called +"The Seven Ages" contain Shakespeare's view of human life. Nothing +could be further from the truth. The lines were uttered by a cynic, +in contempt and scorn of the human race.</p> +<p>Shakespeare did not put his characters in the livery and uniform +of some weakness, peculiarity or passion. He did not use names as +tags or brands. He did not write under the picture, "This is a +villain." His characters need no suggestive names to tell us what +they are—we see them and we know them for ourselves.</p> +<p>It may be that in the greatest utterances of the greatest +characters in the supreme moments, we have the real thoughts, +opinions and convictions of Shakespeare.</p> +<p>Of all writers Shakespeare is the most impersonal. He speaks +through others, and the others seem to speak for themselves. The +didactic is lost in the dramatic. He does not use the stage as a +pulpit to enforce some maxim. He is as reticent as Nature.</p> +<p>He idealizes the common and transfigures all he +touches—but he does not preach. He was interested in men and +things as they were. He did not seek to change them—but to +portray. He was Natures mirror—and in that mirror Nature saw +herself.</p> +<p>When I stood amid the great trees of California that lift their +spreading capitals against the clouds, looking like Nature's +columns to support the sky, I thought of the poetry of +Shakespeare.</p> +<center>IX.</center> +<p>THAT a procession of men and women—statesmen and +warriors—kings and clowns—issued from Shakespeare's +brain! What women!</p> +<p><i>Isabella</i>—in whose spotless life love and reason +blended into perfect truth.</p> +<p><i>Juliet</i>—within whose heart passion and purity met +like white and red within the bosom of a rose.</p> +<p><i>Cordelia</i>—who chose to suffer loss, rather than show +her wealth of love with those who gilded lies in hope of gain.</p> +<p><i>Hermione</i>—"tender as infancy and grace"—who +bore with perfect hope and faith the cross of shame, and who at +last forgave with all her heart.</p> +<p><i>Desdemona</i>—so innocent, so perfect, her love so +pure, that she was incapable of suspecting that another could +suspect, and who with dying words sought to hide her lover's +crime—and with her last faint breath uttered a loving lie +that burst into a perfumed lily between her pallid lips.</p> +<p><i>Perdita</i>—"a violet dim, and sweeter than the lids of +Juno's eyes"—"The sweetest low-born lass that ever ran on the +green sward." And</p> +<p><i>Helena</i>—who said:</p> +<pre> + "I know I love in vain, strive against hope— + Yet in this captious and intenable sieve + I still pour in the waters of my love, + And lack not to lose still, + Thus, Indian-like, + Religious in mine error, I adore + The sun that looks upon his worshiper, + But knows of him no more." +</pre> +<p><i>Miranda</i>—who told her love as gladly as a flower +gives its bosom to the kisses of the sun. And +<i>Cordelia</i>—whose kisses cured and whose tears restored. +And stainless</p> +<p><i>Imogen</i>—who cried: "What is it to be false?" And +here is the description of the perfect woman:</p> +<pre> + "To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love; + To keep her constancy in plight and youth— + Outliving beauty's outward with a mind + That doth renew swifter than blood decays." +</pre> +<p>Shakespeare has done more for woman than all the other +dramatists of the world.</p> +<p>For my part, I love the Clowns. I love <i>Launce</i> and his dog +Crabb, and <i>Gobbo</i>, whose conscience threw its arms around the +neck of his heart, and <i>Touchstone</i>, with his lie seven times +removed; and dear old <i>Dogberry</i>—a pretty piece of +flesh, tedious as a king. And <i>Bottom</i>, the very paramour for +a sweet voice, longing to take the part to tear a cat in; and +<i>Autolycus</i>, the snapper-up of unconsidered trifles, sleeping +out the thought for the life to come. And great <i>Sir John</i>, +without conscience, and for that reason unblamed and +enjoyed—and who at the end babbles of green fields, and is +almost loved. And ancient <i>Pistol</i>, the world his oyster. And +<i>Bardolph</i>, with the flea on his blazing nose, putting +beholders in mind of a damned soul in hell. And the poor +<i>Pool</i>, who followed the mad king, and went "to bed at noon." +And the clown who carried the worm of Nilus, whose "biting was +immortal." And <i>Corin</i>, the shepherd—who described the +perfect man: "I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat—get that +I wear—owe no man aught—envy no man's +happiness—glad of other men's good—content."</p> +<p>And mingling in this motley throng, Lear, within whose brain a +tempest raged until the depths were stirred, and the intellectual +wealth of a life was given back to memory?—and then by +madness thrown to storm and night—and when I read the living +lines I feel as though I looked upon the sea and saw it wrought by +frenzied whirlwinds, until the buried treasures and the sunken +wrecks of all the years were cast upon the shores.</p> +<p>And <i>Othello</i>—who like the base Indian threw a pearl +away richer than all his tribe.</p> +<p>And <i>Hamlet</i>—thought-entangled—hesitating +between two worlds.</p> +<p>And <i>Macbeth</i>—strange mingling of cruelty and +conscience, reaping the sure harvest of successful +crime—"Curses not loud but +deep—mouth-honor—breath."</p> +<p>And <i>Brutus</i>, falling on his sword that Cæsar might +be still.</p> +<p>And <i>Romeo</i>, dreaming of the white wonder of Juliet's hand. +And <i>Ferdinand</i>, the patient log-man for Miranda's sake. And +<i>Florizel</i>, who, "for all the sun sees, or the close earth +wombs, or the profound seas hide," would not be faithless to the +low-born lass. And <i>Constance</i>, weeping for her son, while +grief "stuffs out his vacant garments with his form."</p> +<p>And in the midst of tragedies and tears, of love and laughter +and crime, we hear the voice of the good friar, who declares that +in every human heart, as in the smallest flower, there are encamped +the opposed hosts of good and evil—and our philosophy is +interrupted by the garrulous old nurse, whose talk is as busily +useless as the babble of a stream that hurries by a ruined +mill.</p> +<p>From every side the characters crowd upon us—the men and +women born of Shakespeare's brain. They utter with a thousand +voices the thoughts of the "myriad-minded" man, and impress +themselves upon us as deeply and vividly as though they really +lived with us.</p> +<p>Shakespeare alone has delineated love in every possible +phase—has ascended to the very top, and actually reached +heights that no other has imagined. I do not believe the human mind +will ever produce or be in a position to appreciate, a greater +love-play than "Romeo and Juliet." It is a symphony in which all +music seems to blend. The heart bursts into blossom, and he who +reads feels the swooning intoxication of a divine perfume.</p> +<p>In the alembic of Shakespeare's brain the baser metals were +turned to gold—passions became virtues—weeds became +exotics from some diviner land—and common mortals made of +ordinary clay outranked the Olympian Gods. In his brain there was +the touch of chaos that suggests the infinite—that belongs to +genius. Talent is measured and mathematical—dominated by +prudence and the thought of use. Genius is tropical. The creative +instinct runs riot, delights in extravagance and waste, and +overwhelms the mental beggars of the world with uncounted gold and +unnumbered gems.</p> +<p>Some things are immortal: The plays of Shakespeare, the marbles +of the Greeks, and the music of Wagner.</p> +<center>XII.</center> +<p>SHAKESPEARE was the greatest of philosophers. He knew the +conditions of success—of happiness—the relations that +men sustain to each other, and the duties of all. He knew the tides +and currents of the heart—the cliffs and caverns of the +brain. He knew the weakness of the will, the sophistry of +desire—and</p> +<pre> + "That pleasure and revenge have ears more deaf than + Adders to the voice of any true decision." +</pre> +<p>He knew that the soul lives in an invisible world—that +flesh is but a mask, and that</p> +<pre> + "There is no art to find the mind's construction + In the face." +</pre> +<p>He knew that courage should be the servant of judgment, and +that</p> +<pre> + "When valor preys on reason it eats the sword + It fights with." +</pre> +<p>He knew that man is never master of the event, that he is to +some extent the sport or prey of the blind forces of the world, and +that</p> +<pre> + "In the reproof of chance lies the true proof of men." +</pre> +<p>Feeling that the past is unchangeable, and that that which must +happen is as much beyond control as though it had happened, he +says:</p> +<pre> + "Let determined things to destiny + Hold unbewailed their way." +</pre> +<p>Shakespeare was great enough to know that every human being +prefers happiness to misery, and that crimes are but mistakes. +Looking in pity upon the human race, upon the pain and poverty, the +crimes and cruelties, the limping travelers on the thorny paths, he +was great and good enough to say:</p> +<pre> + "There is no darkness but ignorance." +</pre> +<p>In all the philosophies there is no greater line. This great +truth fills the heart with pity.</p> +<p>He knew that place and power do not give happiness—that +the crowned are subject as the lowest to fate and chance.</p> +<pre> + "For within the hollow crown, + That rounds the mortal temples of a king, + Keeps death his court; and there the antick sits, + Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp; + Allowing him a breath, a little scene + To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks; + Infusing him with self and vain conceit.— + As if this flesh, which walls about our life, + Were brass impregnable; and, humour'd thus; + Comes at the last, and with a little pin + Bores through his castle wall, and—farewell king!" +</pre> +<p>So, too, he knew that gold could not bring joy—that death +and misfortune come alike to rich and poor, because:</p> +<pre> + "If thou art rich thou art poor; + For like an ass whose back with ingots bows + Thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, + And death unloads thee." +</pre> +<p>In some of his philosophy there was a kind of scorn—a +hidden meaning that could not in his day and time have safely been +expressed. You will remember that Laertes was about to kill the +king, and this king was the murderer of his own brother, and sat +upon the throne by reason of his crime—and in the mouth of +such a king Shakespeare puts these words:</p> +<pre> + "There's such divinity doth hedge a king." +</pre> +<p>So, in Macbeth:</p> +<pre> + "How he solicits + Heaven himself best knows; but strangely visited people + All swollen and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, + The mere despairs of surgery, he cures; + Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, + Put on with holy prayers; and 'tis spoken + To the succeeding royalty—he leaves + The healing benediction. + + With this strange virtue + He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy, + And sundry blessings hang about his throne, + That speak him full of grace." +</pre> +<p>Shakespeare was the master of the human heart—knew all the +hopes, fears, ambitions and passions that sway the mind of man; and +thus knowing, he declared that</p> +<pre> + "Love is not love that alters + When it alteration finds." +</pre> +<p>This is the sublimest declaration in the literature of the +world.</p> +<p>Shakespeare seems to give the generalization—the +result—without the process of thought. He seems always to be +at the conclusion—standing where all truths meet.</p> +<p>In one of the Sonnets is this fragment of a line that contains +the highest possible truth:</p> +<pre> + "Conscience is born of love." +</pre> +<p>If man were incapable of suffering, the words right and wrong +never could have been spoken. If man were destitute of imagination, +the flower of pity never could have blossomed in his heart.</p> +<p>We suffer—we cause others to suffer—those that we +love—and of this fact conscience is born.</p> +<p>Love is the many-colored flame that makes the fireside of the +heart. It is the mingled spring and autumn—the perfect +climate of the soul.</p> +<center>XIII.</center> +<p>IN the realm of comparison Shakespeare seems to have exhausted +the relations, parallels and similitudes of things, He only could +have said:</p> +<pre> + "Tedious as a twice-told tale + Vexing the ears of a drowsy man." + "Duller than a great thaw. + Dry as the remainder biscuit after a voyage." +</pre> +<p>In the words of Ulysses, spoken to Achilles, we find the most +wonderful collection of pictures and comparisons ever compressed +within the same number of lines:</p> +<pre> + "Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, + Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,— + A great-sized monster of ingratitudes— + Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devoured + As fast as they are made, forgot as soon + As done; perseverance, dear my lord, + Keeps honor bright: to have done is to hang + Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail + In monumental mockery. Take the instant way; + For honor travels in a strait so narrow + Where one but goes abreast; keep then the path; + For emulation hath a thousand sons + That one by one pursue; if you give way, + Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, + Like to an entered tide, they all rush by + And leave you hindmost: + Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, + Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, + O'errun and trampled on: then what they do in present, + Tho' less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours; + For time is like a fashionable host + That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, + And with his arms outstretched as he would fly, + Grasps in the comer: Welcome ever smiles, + And Farewell goes out sighing." +</pre> +<p>So the words of Cleopatra, when Charmain speaks:</p> +<pre> + "Peace, peace: + Dost thou not see my baby at my breast + That sucks the nurse asleep?" +</pre> +<center>XIV.</center> +<p>NOTHING is more difficult than a definition—a +crystallization of thought so perfect that it emits light. +Shakespeare says of suicide:</p> +<pre> + "It is great to do that thing + That ends all other deeds, + Which shackles accident, and bolts up change." +</pre> +<p>He defines drama to be:</p> +<pre> + "Turning the accomplishments of many years + Into an hour glass." +</pre> +<p>Of death:</p> +<pre> + "This sensible warm motion to become a kneaded clod, + To lie in cold obstruction and to rot." +</pre> +<p>Of memory:</p> +<pre> + "The warder of the brain." +</pre> +<p>Of the body:</p> +<pre> + "This muddy vesture of decay." +</pre> +<p>And he declares that</p> +<pre> + "Our little life is rounded with a sleep." +</pre> +<p>He speaks of Echo as:</p> +<pre> + "The babbling gossip of the air"— +</pre> +<p>Romeo, addressing the poison that he is about to take, says:</p> +<pre> + "Come, bitter conduct, come unsavory guide, + Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on + The dashing rocks thy sea-sick, weary bark." +</pre> +<p>He describes the world as</p> +<pre> + "This bank and shoal of time." +</pre> +<p>He says of rumor—</p> +<pre> + "That it doubles, like the voice and echo." +</pre> +<p>It would take days to call attention to the perfect definitions, +comparisons and generalizations of Shakespeare. He gave us the +deeper meanings of our words—taught us the art of speech. He +was the lord of language—master of expression and +compression.</p> +<p>He put the greatest thoughts into the shortest words—made +the poor rich and the common royal.</p> +<p>Production enriched his brain. Nothing exhausted him. The moment +his attention was called to any subject—comparisons, +definitions, metaphors and generalizations filled his mind and +begged for utterance. His thoughts like bees robbed every blossom +in the world, and then with "merry march" brought the rich booty +home "to the tent royal of their emperor."</p> +<p>Shakespeare was the confidant of Nature. To him she opened her +"infinite book of secrecy," and in his brain were "the hatch and +brood of time."</p> +<center>XV.</center> +<p>THERE is in Shakespeare the mingling of laughter and tears, +humor and pathos. Humor is the rose, wit the thorn. Wit is a +crystallization, humor an efflorescence. Wit comes from the brain, +humor from the heart. Wit is the lightning of the soul.</p> +<p>In Shakespeare's nature was the climate of humor. He saw and +felt the sunny side even of the saddest things. You have seen +sunshine and rain at once. So Shakespeare's tears fell oft upon his +smiles. In moments of peril—on the very darkness of +death—there comes a touch of humor that falls like a fleck of +sunshine.</p> +<p>Gonzalo, when the ship is about to sink, having seen the +boatswain, exclaims:</p> +<pre> + "I have great comfort from this fellow; + Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; + His complexion is perfect gallows." +</pre> +<p>Shakespeare is filled with the strange contrasts of grief and +laughter. While poor Hero is supposed to be dead—wrapped in +the shroud of dishonor—Dogberry and Verges unconsciously put +again the wedding wreath upon her pure brow.</p> +<p>The soliloquy of Launcelot—great as Hamlet's—offsets +the bitter and burning words of Shylock.</p> +<p>There is only time to speak of Maria in "Twelfth Night," of +Autolycus in the "Winter's Tale," of the parallel drawn by Fluellen +between Alexander of Macedon and Harry of Monmouth, or of the +marvelous humor of Falstaff, who never had the faintest thought of +right or wrong—or of Mercutio, that embodiment of wit and +humor—or of the gravediggers who lamented that "great folk +should have countenance in this world to drown and hang themselves, +more than their even Christian," and who reached the generalization +that "the gallows does well because it does well to those who do +ill."</p> +<p>There is also an example of grim humor—an example without +a parallel in literature, so far as I know. Hamlet having killed +Polonius is asked:</p> +<pre> + "Where's Polonius?" + + "At supper." + + "At supper! where?" + + "Not where he eats, but where he is eaten." +</pre> +<p>Above all others, Shakespeare appreciated the pathos of +situation.</p> +<p>Nothing is more pathetic than the last scene in "Lear." No one +has ever bent above his dead who did not feel the words uttered by +the mad king,—words born of a despair deeper than tears:</p> +<pre> + "Oh, that a horse, a dog, a rat hath life + And thou no breath!" +</pre> +<p>So Iago, after he has been wounded, says:</p> +<pre> + "I bleed, sir; but not killed." +</pre> +<p>And Othello answers from the wreck and shattered remnant of his +life:</p> +<pre> + "I would have thee live; + For in my sense it is happiness to die." +</pre> +<p>When Troilus finds Cressida has been false, he cries:</p> +<pre> + "Let it not be believed for womanhood; + Think! we had mothers." +</pre> +<p>Ophelia, in her madness, "<i>the sweet bells jangled out o' +tune,</i>" says softly:</p> +<pre> + "I would give you some violets; + But they withered all when my father died." +</pre> +<p>When Macbeth has reaped the harvest, the seeds of which were +sown by his murderous hand, he exclaims,—and what could be +more pitiful?</p> +<pre> + "I 'gin to be aweary of the sun." +</pre> +<p>Richard the Second feels how small a thing it is to be, or to +have been, a king, or to receive honors before or after power is +lost; and so, of those who stood uncovered before him, he asks this +piteous question:</p> +<pre> + "I live with bread, like you; feel want, + Taste grief, need friends; subjected thus, + How can you say to me I am a king?" +</pre> +<p>Think of the salutation of Antony to the dead Cæsar:</p> +<pre> + "Pardon me, thou piece of bleeding earth." +</pre> +<p>When Pisanio informs Imogen that he had been ordered by +Posthumus to murder her, she bares her neck and cries:</p> +<pre> + "The lamb entreats the butcher: + Where is thy knife? Thou art too slow + To do thy master's bidding when I desire it." +</pre> +<p>Antony, as the last drops are falling from his self-inflicted +wound, utters with his dying breath to Cleopatra, this:</p> +<pre> + "I here importune death awhile, until + Of many thousand kisses the poor last + I lay upon thy lips." +</pre> +<p>To me, the last words of Hamlet are full of pathos:</p> +<pre> + "I die, Horatio. + The potent poison quite o' er crows my spirit... + The rest is silence." +</pre> +<center>XVI.</center> +<p>SOME have insisted that Shakespeare must have been a physician, +for the reason that he shows such knowledge of medicine—of +the symptoms of disease and death—was so familiar with the +brain, and with insanity in all its forms.</p> +<p>I do not think he was a physician. He knew too much—his +generalizations were too splendid. He had none of the prejudices of +that profession in his time. We might as well say that he was a +musician, a composer, because we find in "The Two Gentlemen of +Verona" nearly every musical term known in Shakespeare's time.</p> +<p>Others maintain that he was a lawyer, perfectly acquainted with +the forms, with the expressions familiar to that +profession—yet there is nothing to show that he was a lawyer, +or that he knew more about law than any intelligent man should +know.</p> +<p>He was not a lawyer. His sense of justice was never dulled by +reading English law.</p> +<p>Some think that he was a botanist, because he named nearly all +known plants. Others, that he was an astronomer, a naturalist, +because he gave hints and suggestions of nearly all +discoveries.</p> +<p>Some have thought that he must have been a sailor, for the +reason that the orders given in the opening of "The Tempest" were +the best that could, under the circumstances, have been given to +save the ship.</p> +<p>For my part, I think there is nothing in the plays to show that +he was a lawyer, doctor, botanist or scientist. He had the +observant eyes that really see, the ears that really hear, the +brain that retains all pictures, all thoughts, logic as unerring as +light,-the imagination that supplies defects and builds the perfect +from a fragment. And these faculties, these aptitudes, working +together, account for what he did.</p> +<p>He exceeded all the sons of men in the splendor of his +imagination. To him the whole world paid tribute, and nature poured +her treasures at his feet. In him all races lived again, and even +those to be were pictured in his brain.</p> +<p>He was a man of imagination—that is to say, of genius, and +having seen a leaf, and a drop of water, he could construct the +forests, the rivers, and the seas—and in his presence all the +cataracts would fall and foam, the mists rise, the clouds form and +float.</p> +<p>If Shakespeare knew one fact, he knew its kindred and its +neighbors. Looking at a coat of mail, he instantly imagined the +society, the conditions, that produced it and what it, in turn, +produced. He saw the castle, the moat, the draw-bridge, the lady in +the tower, and the knightly lover spurring across the plain. He saw +the bold baron and the rude retainer, the trampled serf, and all +the glory and the grief of feudal life.</p> +<p>He lived the life of all.</p> +<p>He was a citizen of Athens in the days of Pericles. He listened +to the eager eloquence of the great orators, and sat upon the +cliffs, and with the tragic poet heard "the multitudinous laughter +of the sea." He saw Socrates thrust the spear of question through +the shield and heart of falsehood. He was present when the great +man drank hemlock, and met the night of death, tranquil as a star +meets morning. He listened to the peripatetic philosophers, and was +unpuzzled by the sophists. He watched Phidias as he chiseled +shapeless stone to forms of love and awe.</p> +<p>He lived by the mysterious Nile, amid the vast and monstrous. He +knew the very thought that wrought the form and features of the +Sphinx. He heard great Memnon's morning song when marble lips were +smitten by the sun. He laid him down with the embalmed and waiting +dead, and felt within their dust the expectation of another life, +mingled with cold and suffocating doubts—the children born of +long delay.</p> +<p>He walked the ways of mighty Rome, and saw great Cæsar +with his legions in the field. He stood with vast and motley +throngs and watched the triumphs given to victorious men, followed +by uncrowned kings, the captured hosts, and all the spoils of +ruthless war. He heard the shout that shook the Coliseum's roofless +walls, when from the reeling gladiator's hand the short sword fell, +while from his bosom gushed the stream of wasted life.</p> +<p>He lived the life of savage men. He trod the forests' silent +depths, and in the desperate game of life or death he matched his +thought against the instinct of the beast.</p> +<p>He knew all crimes and all regrets, all virtues and their rich +rewards. He was victim and victor, pursuer and pursued, outcast and +king. He heard the applause and curses of the world, and on his +heart had fallen all the nights and noons of failure and +success.</p> +<p>He knew the unspoken thoughts, the dumb desires, the wants and +ways of beasts. He felt the crouching tiger's thrill, the terror of +the ambushed prey, and with the eagles he had shared the ecstasy of +flight and poise and swoop, and he had lain with sluggish serpents +on the barren rocks uncoiling slowly in the heat of noon.</p> +<p>He sat beneath the bo-tree's contemplative shade, wrapped in +Buddha's mighty thought, and dreamed all dreams that light, the +alchemist, has wrought from dust and dew, and stored within the +slumbrous poppy's subtle blood.</p> +<p>He knelt with awe and dread at every shrine—he offered +every sacrifice, and every prayer—felt the consolation and +the shuddering fear—mocked and worshiped all the +gods—enjoyed all heavens, and felt the pangs of every +hell.</p> +<p>He lived all lives, and through his blood and brain there crept +the shadow and the chill of every death, and his soul, like +Mazeppa, was lashed naked to the wild horse of every fear and love +and hate.</p> +<p>The Imagination had a stage in. Shakespeare's brain, whereon +were set all scenes that lie between the morn of laughter and the +night of tears, and where his players bodied forth the false and +true, the joys and griefs, the careless shallows and the tragic +deeps of universal life.</p> +<p>From Shakespeare's brain there poured a Niagara of gems spanned +by Fancy's seven-hued arch. He was as many-sided as clouds are +many-formed. To him giving was hoarding—sowing was +harvest—and waste itself the source of wealth. Within his +marvelous mind were the fruits of all thought past, the seeds of +all to be. As a drop of dew contains the image of the earth and +sky, so all there is of life was mirrored forth in Shakespeare's +brain.</p> +<p>Shakespeare was an intellectual ocean, whose waves touched all +the shores of thought; within which were all the tides and waves of +destiny and will; over which swept all the storms of fate, ambition +and revenge; upon which fell the gloom and darkness of despair and +death and all the sunlight of content and love, and within which +was the inverted sky lit with the eternal stars—an +intellectual ocean—towards which all rivers ran, and from +which now the isles and continents of thought receive their dew and +rain.</p> +<a name="link0002" id="link0002"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>ROBERT BURNS.*</h2> +<pre> + * This lecture is printed from notes found among Colonel + Ingersoll's papers, but was not revised by him for + publication. +</pre> +<p>A facsimile of the original manuscript as written by Colonel +Ingersoll in the Burns' cottage at Ayr, August 19, 1878.</p> +<a name="image-0001" id="image-0001"><!--IMG--></a> +<center><img src="images/facsimile.jpg" height="971" width="735" +alt="Burn's Manuscript " /></center> +<p>WE have met to-night to honor the memory of that has ever +written in our language. I would place one above him, and only +one—Shakespeare.</p> +<p>It may be well enough at the beginning to inquire, What is a +poet? What is poetry?</p> +<p>Every one has some idea of the poetic, and this idea is born of +his experience—of his education—of his +surroundings.</p> +<p>There have been more nations than poets.</p> +<p>Many people suppose that poetry is a kind of art depending upon +certain rules, and that it is only necessary to find out these +rules to be a poet. But these rules have never been found. The +great poet follows them unconsciously. The great poet seems as +unconscious as Nature, and the product of the highest art seems to +have been felt instead of thought.</p> +<p>The finest definition perhaps that has been given is this: a +poet—possibly the next to the greatest.</p> +<p>"As nature unconsciously produces that which appears to be the +result of consciousness, so the greatest artist consciously +produces that which appears the unconscious result."</p> +<p>Poetry must rest on the experience of men—the history of +heart and brain. It must sit by the fireside of the heart. It must +have to do with this world, with the place in which we live, with +the men and women we know, with their loves, their hopes, their +fears and their joys.</p> +<p>After all, we care nothing about gods and goddesses, or folks +with wings.</p> +<p>The cloud-compelling Jupiters, the ox-eyed Junos, the +feather-heeled Mercurys, or the Minervas that leaped full-armed +from the thick skull of some imaginary god, are nothing to us. We +know nothing of their fears or loves, and for that reason, the +poetry that deals with them, no matter how ingenious it may be, can +never touch the human heart.</p> +<p>I was taught that Milton was a wonderful poet, and above all +others sublime. I have read Milton once. Few have read him +twice.</p> +<p>With splendid words, with magnificent mythological imagery, he +musters the heavenly militia—puts epaulets on the shoulders +of God, and describes the Devil as an artillery officer of the +highest rank.</p> +<p>Then he describes the battles in which immortals undertake the +impossible task of killing each other.</p> +<p>Take this line:</p> +<pre> + "Flying with indefatigable wings over the vast abrupt." +</pre> +<p>This is called sublime, but what does it mean?</p> +<p>We have been taught that Dante was a wonderful poet.</p> +<p>He described with infinite minuteness the pangs and agonies +endured by the damned in the torture—dungeons of God.</p> +<p>The vicious twins of superstition—malignity and +solemnity—struggle for the mastery in his revengeful +lines.</p> +<p>But there was one good thing about Dante: he had the courage, +and what might be called the religious democracy, to see a pope in +hell.</p> +<p>That is something to be thankful for.</p> +<p>So, the sonnets of Petrarch are as unmeaning as the promises of +candidates. They are filled not with genuine passion, but with the +feelings that lovers are supposed to have.</p> +<p>Poetry cannot be written by rule; it is nota trade, or a +profession. Let the critics lay down the laws, and the true poet +will violate them all.</p> +<p>By rule you can make skeletons, but you cannot clothe them with +flesh, put blood in their veins, thoughts in their eyes, and +passions in their hearts.</p> +<p>This can be done only by following the impulses of the heart, +the winged fancies of the brain—by wandering from paths and +roads, keeping step with the rhythmic ebb and flow of the throbbing +blood.</p> +<p>In the olden time in Scotland, most of the so-called poetry was +written by pedagogues and parsons—gentlemen who found out +what little they knew of the living world by reading the dead +languages—by studying epitaphs in the cemeteries of +literature.</p> +<p>They knew nothing of any life that they thought poetic. They +kept as far from the common people as they could. They wrote +countless verses, but no poems. They tried to put metaphysics, that +is to say, Calvinism, in poetry.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, a Calvinist cannot be a poet. Calvinism +takes all the poetry out of the world.</p> +<p>If the existence of the Calvinistic, the Christian, hell could +be demonstrated, another poem never could be written. .</p> +<p>In those days they made poetry about geography, and the beauties +of the Scotch Kirk, and even about law.</p> +<p>The critics have always been looking for mistakes, not +beauties—not for the perfection of expression and feeling. +They would object to the lark and nightingale because they do not +sing by note—to the clouds because they are not square.</p> +<p>At one time it was thought that scenery, the grand in nature, +made the poet. We now know that the poet makes the scenery. Holland +has produced far more genius than the Alps. Where nature is +prodigal—where the crags tower above the clouds—man is +overcome, or overawed. In England and Scotland the hills are low, +and there is nothing in the scenery calculated to rouse poetic +blood, and yet these countries have produced the greatest +literature of all time.</p> +<p>The truth is that poets and heroes make the scenery. The place +where man has died for man is grander than all the snow-crowned +summits of the world.</p> +<p>A poem is something like a mountain stream that flashes in +light, then lost in shadow, leaps with a kind of wild joy into the +abyss, emerges victorious, and winding runs amid meadows, lingers +in quiet places, holding within its breast the hills and vales and +clouds—then running by the cottage door, babbling of joy, and +murmuring delight, then sweeping on to join its old mother, the +sea.</p> +<p>Thousands, millions of men live poems, but do not write them; +but every great poem has been lived.</p> +<p>I say to-night that every good and self-denying man, every one +who lives and labors for those he loves, for wife and child, is +living a poem. The loving mother rocking a cradle, singing the +slumber song, lives a poem pure and tender as the dawn; the man who +bares his breast to shot and shell lives a poem, and all the great +men of the world, and all the brave and loving women have been +poets in action, whether they have written one word or not. The +poor woman of the tenement, sewing, blinded by tears, lives a poem +holier, it may be, than the fortunate can know. The +pioneers—the home builders, the heroes of toil, are all +poets, and their deeds are filled with the pathos and perfection of +the highest art.</p> +<p>But to-night we are going to talk of a poet—one who poured +out his soul in song. How does a country become great? By producing +great poets. Why is it that Scotland, when the roll of nations is +called, can stand up and proudly answer "here"? Because Robert +Burns has lived. It is Robert Burns that put Scotland in the front +rank.</p> +<p>On the 25th of January, 1759, Robert Burns was born. William +Burns, a gardener, his father; Agnes Brown, his mother. He was born +near the little town of Ayr, in a little cottage made of mud and +thatched with straw. From the first, poverty was his +portion,—"Poverty, the half-sister of Death." The father +struggled as best he could, but at last overcome more by +misfortunes than by disease, died in 1784, at the age of 63. Robert +attended school at Alloway Mill, and had been taught a little by +John Murdock, and some by his father. That was his +education—with this exception, that whenever nature produces +a genius, the old mother holds him close to her heart and whispers +secrets to his ears that others do not know.</p> +<p>He had spent most of his time working on a farm, raising very +poor crops, getting deeper and deeper into debt, until finally the +death of his father left him to struggle as best he might for +himself.</p> +<p>In the year 1759, Scotland was emerging from the darkness and +gloom of Calvinism. The attention of the people had been drawn from +the other world, or rather from the other worlds, to the affairs of +this. The commercial spirit, the interests of trade, were winning +men from the discussion of predestination and the sacred decrees of +God. Mechanics and manufacturers were undermining theology. The +influence of the clergy was gradually diminishing, and the beggarly +elements of this life were beginning to attract the attention of +the Scotch. The people at that time were mostly poor. They had made +but little progress in art and science. They had been engaged for +many years fighting for their political or theological rights, or +to destroy the rights of others. They had great energy, great +natural sense, and courage without limit, and it may be well enough +to add that they were as obstinate as brave.</p> +<p>Several countries have had a metaphysical peasantry. It is true +of parts of Switzerland about the time of Calvin. In Holland, after +the people had suffered all the cruelties that Spain could inflict, +they began to discuss as to foreordination and free will, and upon +these questions destroyed each other. The same is true of New +England, and peculiarly true of Scotland—a metaphysical +peasantry—men who lived in mud houses thatched with straw and +discussed the motives of God and the means by which the Infinite +Being was to accomplish his ends.</p> +<p>For many years the Scotch had been ruled by the clergy. The +power of the Scotch preacher was unlimited. It so happened that the +religion of Scotland became synonymous with patriotism, and those +who were fighting Scotland were also fighting her religion. This +drew priest and people together; and the priest naturally took +advantage of the situation. They not only determined upon the +policy to be pursued by the people, but they went into every detail +of life. And in this world there has never been established a more +odious tyranny or a more odious form of government than that of the +Scotch Kirk.</p> +<p>A few men had made themselves famous—David Hume, Adam +Smith, Doctor Hugh Blair, he of the grave, Beattie and Ramsay, Reid +and Robertson—but the great body of the people were orthodox +to the last drop of their blood. Nothing seemed to please them like +attending church, like hearing sermons. Before Communion Sabbath +they frequently met on Friday, having two or three sermons on that +day, three or four on Saturday, more if possible on Sunday, and +wound up with a kind of gospel spree on Monday. They loved it. I +think it was Heinrich Heine who said, "It is not true, it is not +true that the damned in hell are compelled to hear all the sermons +preached on earth." He says this is not true. This shows that there +is some mercy even in hell. They were infinitely interested in +these questions.</p> +<p>And yet, the people were social, fond of games, of outdoor +sports, full of song and story, and no folks ever passed the cup +with a happier smile.</p> +<p>Sometimes I have thought that they were saved from the gloom of +Calvinism by the use of intoxicating liquors. It may be that John +Barleycorn redeemed the Scotch and saved them from the divine +dyspepsia of the Calvinistic creed. So, too, it may be that the +Puritan was saved by rum, and the Hollander by schnapps. Yet, in +spite of the gloom of the creed, in spite of the climate of mists +and fogs, and the maniac winters, the songs of Scotland are the +sweetest and the tenderest in all the world.</p> +<p>Robert Burns was a peasant—a ploughman—a poet. Why +is it that millions and millions of men and women love this man? He +was a Scotchman, and all the tendrils of his heart struck deep in +Scotland's soil. He voiced the ideals of the best and greatest of +his race and blood. And yet he is as dear to the citizens of this +great Republic as to Scotia's sons and daughters.</p> +<p>All great poetry has a national flavor. It tastes of the soil. +No matter how great it is, how wide, how universal, the flavor of +locality is never lost. Burns made common life beautiful. He +idealized the sun-burnt girls who worked in the fields. He put +honest labor above titled idleness. He made a cottage far more +poetic than a palace. He painted the simple joys and ecstasies and +raptures of sincere love. He put native sense above the polish of +schools.</p> +<p>We love him because he was independent, sturdy, self-poised, +social, generous, susceptible, thrilled by a look, by a touch, full +of pity, carrying the sorrows of others in his heart, even those of +animals; hating to see anybody suffer, and lamenting the death of +everything—even of trees and flowers. We love him because he +was a natural democrat, and hated tyranny in every form.</p> +<p>We love him because he was always on the side of the people, +feeling the throb of progress.</p> +<p>Burns read but little, had but few books; had but a little of +what is called education; had only an outline of history, a little +of philosophy, in its highest sense. His library consisted of the +<i>Life of Hannibal</i>, the <i>History of Wallace</i>, Ray's +<i>Wisdom of God</i>, Stackhouse's <i>History of the Bible</i>; two +or three plays of Shakespeare, Ferguson's <i>Scottish Poems</i>, +Pope's <i>Homer</i>, Shenstone, McKenzie's <i>Man of Feeling</i> +and Ossian.</p> +<p>Burns was a man of genius. He was like a spring—something +that suggests no labor.</p> +<p>A spring seems to be a perpetual free gift of nature. There is +no thought of toil. The water comes whispering to the pebbles +without effort. There is no machinery, no pipes, no pumps, no +engines, no water-works, nothing that suggests expense or trouble. +So a natural poet is, when compared with the educated, with the +polished, with the industrious.</p> +<p>Burns seems to have done everything without effort. His poems +wrote themselves. He was overflowing with sympathies, with +suggestions, with ideas, in every possible direction. There is no +midnight oil. There is nothing of the student—no suggestion +of their having been re-written or re-cast. There is in his heart a +poetic April and May, and all the poetic seeds burst into sudden +life. In a moment the seed is a plant, and the plant is in blossom, +and the fruit is given to the world.</p> +<p>He looks at everything from a natural point of view; and he +writes of the men and women with whom he was acquainted. He cares +nothing for mythology, nothing for the legends of the Greeks and +Romans. He draws but little from history. Everything that he uses +is within his reach, and he knows it from centre to circumference. +All his figures and comparisons are perfectly natural. He does not +endeavor to make angels of fine ladies.</p> +<p>He takes the servant girls with whom he is acquainted, the dairy +maids that he knows. He puts wings upon them and makes the very +angels envious.</p> +<p>And yet this man, so natural, keeping his cheek so close to the +breast of nature, strangely enough thought that Pope and Churchill +and Shenstone and Thomson and Lyttelton and Beattie were great +poets.</p> +<p>His first poem was addressed to Nellie Kilpatrick, daughter of +the blacksmith. He was in love with Ellison Begbie, offered her his +heart and was refused. She was a servant, working in a family and +living on the banks of the Cessnock. Jean Armour, his wife, was the +daughter of a tailor, and Highland Mary, a servant—a +milk-maid.</p> +<p>He did not make women of goddesses, but he made goddesses of +women.</p> +<center>POET OF LOVE.</center> +<p>Burns was the poet of love. To him woman was divine. In the +light of her eyes he stood transfigured. Love changed this peasant +to a king; the plaid became a robe of purple; the ploughman became +a poet; the poor laborer an inspired lover.</p> +<p>In his "Vision" his native Muse tells the story of his +verse:</p> +<pre> + "When youthful Love, warm-blushing strong, + Keen-shivering shot thy nerves along, + Those accents, grateful to thy tongue, + Th' adored Name, + I taught thee how to pour in song, + To soothe thy flame." +</pre> +<p>Ah, this light from heaven: how it has purified the heart of +man!</p> +<p>Was there ever a sweeter song than "Bonnie Doon"?</p> +<pre> + "Thou'lt break my heart thou bonnie bird + That sings beside thy mate, + For sae I sat and sae I sang, + And wist na o' my fate." +</pre> +<p>or,</p> +<pre> + "O, my luve's like a red, red rose + That's newly sprung in June; + O, my luve's like the melodie + That's sweetly play'd in tune." +</pre> +<p>It would consume days to give the intense and tender +lines—lines wet with the heart's blood, lines that throb and +sigh and weep, lines that glow like flames, lines that seem to +clasp and kiss.</p> +<p>But the most perfect love-poem that I know—pure the tear +of gratitude—is "To Mary in Heaven:"</p> +<pre> + "Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray, + That lov'st to greet the early morn, + Again thou usher'st in the day + My Mary from my soul was torn. + O Mary! dear departed shade! + Where is thy place of blissful rest? + Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? + Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? + + "That sacred hour can I forget? + Can I forget the hallow'd grove + Where, by the winding Ayr, we met, + To live one day of parting love? + Eternity will not efface + Those records dear of transports past; + Thy image at our last embrace; + Ah! little thought we 'twas our last! + + "Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore, + O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green; + The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, + Twin'd am'rous round the raptur'd scene. + The flowers sprang wanton to be prest, + The birds sang love on ev'ry spray, + Till too, too soon, the glowing west + Proclaim'd the speed of wingèd day. + + "Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, + And fondly broods with miser care! + Time but the impression stronger makes, + As streams their channels deeper wear. + My Mary, dear departed shade! + Where is thy blissful place of rest? + Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? + Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?" +</pre> +<p>Above all the daughters of luxury and wealth, above all of +Scotland's queens rises this pure and gentle girl made deathless by +the love of Robert Burns.</p> +<center>POET OF HOME</center> +<p>He was the poet of the home—of father, mother, +child—of the purest wedded love.</p> +<p>In the "Cotter's Saturday Night," one of the noblest and +sweetest poems in the literature of the world, is a description of +the poor cotter going from his labor to his home:</p> +<pre> + "At length his lonely cot appears in view, + Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; + Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin', stacher through + To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin' noise and glee. + + His wee bit ingle, blinkin' bonnilie, + His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile, + The lisping infant prattling on his knee, + Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, + And makes him quite forget his labour an' his toil." +</pre> +<p>And in the same poem, after having described the courtship, +Burns bursts into this perfect flower:</p> +<pre> + "O happy love! where love like this is found! + O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare! + I've pacèd much this weary, mortal round, + And sage experience bids me this declare: + If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare + One cordial in this melancholy vale, + 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, + In other's arms, breathe out the tender tale + Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev'ning gale." +</pre> +<p>Is there in the world a more beautiful—a more touching +picture than the old couple sitting by the ingleside with clasped +hands, and the pure, patient, loving old wife saying to the +white-haired man who won her heart when the world was young:</p> +<pre> + "John Anderson, my jo, John, + When we were first acquent; + Your locks were like the raven, + Your bonnie brow was brent; + But now your brow is beld, John, + Your locks are like the snaw; + But blessings on your frosty pow, + John Anderson, my jo. + + "John Anderson, my jo, John, + We clamb the hill thegither; + And monie a canty day, John, + We've had wi' ane anither; + Now we maun totter down, John, + But hand in hand we'll go, + And sleep thegither at the foot, + John Anderson, my jo." +</pre> +<p>Burns taught that the love of wife and children was the +highest—that to toil for them was the noblest.</p> +<pre> + "The sacred lowe o' weel placed love, + Luxuriantly indulge it; + But never tempt the illicit rove, + Though naething should divulge it." + + "I waine the quantum of the sin, + The hazzard o'concealing; + But och! it hardens all within, + And petrifies the feeling." + + "To make a happy fireside clime + To weans and wife, + That's the true pathos, and sublime, + Of human life." +</pre> +<center>FRIENDSHIP.</center> +<p>He was the poet of friendship:</p> +<pre> + "Should auld acquaintance be forgot, + And never brought to min'? + Should auld acquaintance be forgot, + And days o' auld lang syne?" +</pre> +<p>Wherever those who speak the English language +assemble—wherever the Anglo-Saxon people meet with clasp and +smile—these words are given to the air.</p> +<center>SCOTCH DRINK.</center> +<p>The poet of good Scotch drink, of merry meetings, of the cup +that cheers, author of the best drinking song in the world:</p> +<pre> + "O, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, + And Rob and Allen came to see; + Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night, + Ye wadna find in Christendie. + + Chorus. + + "We are na fou, we're no that fou, + But just a drappie in our ee; + The cock may craw, the day may daw, + And aye we'll taste the barley bree. +</pre> +<pre> + "Here are we met, three merry boys, + Three merry boys, I trow, are we; + And monie a night we've merry been, + And monie mae we hope to be! + + We are na fou, &c. + + "It is the moon, I ken her horn, + That's blinkin in the lift say hie; + She shines sae bright to wyle us hame, + But by my sooth she'll wait a wee! + + We are na fou, &c. + + "Wha first shall rise to gang awa, + A cuckold, coward loun is he! + Wha last beside his chair shall fa', + He is the King amang us three! + + We are na fou, &c." +</pre> +<center>POETS BORN, NOT MADE.</center> +<p>He did not think the poet could be made—that colleges +could furnish feeling, capacity, genius. He gave his opinion of +these manufactured minstrels:</p> +<pre> + "A set o' dull, conceited hashes, + Confuse their brains in college classes! + They gang in stirks, and come out asses, + Plain truth to speak; + An' syne they think to climb Parnassus + By dint o' Greek!" + + "Gie me ane spark o' Nature's fire, + That's a' the learning I desire; + Then tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire + At pleugh or cart, + My Muse, though hamely in attire, + May touch the heart." +</pre> +<center>BURNS, THE ARTIST.</center> +<p>He was an artist—a painter of pictures.</p> +<p>This of the brook:</p> +<pre> + "Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, + As thro' the glen it wimpl't; + Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays; + Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't; + Whyles glitter's to the nightly rays, + Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle; + Whyles cookit underneath the braes, + Below the spreading hazel, + Unseen that night." +</pre> +<p>Or this from Tam O'Shanter:</p> +<pre> + "But pleasures are like poppies spread, + You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed, + Or, like the snow falls in the river, + A moment white—then melts forever; + Or, like the borealis race, + That flit ere you can point their place; + Or, like the rainbow's lovely form, + Evanishing amid the storm." +</pre> +<p>This:</p> +<pre> + "As in the bosom of the stream + The moon-beam dwells at dewy e'en; + So, trembling, pure, was tender love, + Within the breast o' bonnie Jean." + + "The sun had clos'd the winter day, + The Curlers quat their roarin play, + An' hunger's Maukin ta'en her way + To kail-yards green, + While faithless snaws ilk step betray + Whare she had been." + + "O, sweet are Coila's haughs an' woods, + When lintwhites chant amang the buds, + And jinkin' hares, in amorous whids, + Their loves enjoy, + While thro' the braes the cushat croons + Wi' wailfu' cry!" + + "Ev'n winter bleak has charms to me + When winds rave thro' the naked tree; + Or frosts on hills of Ochiltree + Are hoary gray; + Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee, + Dark'ning the day!" +</pre> +<p>This of the lark and daisy—the daintiest and nearest +perfect in our language:</p> +<pre> + "Alas! it's no' thy neebor sweet, + The bonnie Lark, companion meet! + Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet! + Wi' spreckl'd breast, + When upward-springing, blythe, to greet + The purpling east." +</pre> +<center>A REAL DEMOCRAT.</center> +<p>He was in every fibre of his being a sincere democrat. He was a +believer in the people—in the sacred rights of man. He +believed that honest peasants were superior to titled parasites. He +knew the so-called "gentrv" of his time.</p> +<p>In one of his letters to Dr. Moore is this passage: "It takes a +few dashes into the world to give the young great man that proper, +decent, unnoticing disregard for the poor, insignificant, stupid +devils—the mechanics and peasantry around him—who were +born in the same village."</p> +<p>He knew the infinitely cruel spirit of caste—a spirit that +despises the useful—the children of toil—those who bear +the burdens of the world.</p> +<pre> + "If I'm design'd yon lordling's slave, + By nature's law design'd, + Why was an independent wish + E'er planted in my mind? + + If not, why am I subject to . + His cruelty, or scorn? + Or why has man the will and pow'r + To make his fellow mourn?" +</pre> +<p>Against the political injustice of his time—against the +artificial distinctions among men by which the lowest were regarded +as the highest—he protested in the great poem, "A man's a man +for a' that," every line of which came like lava from his +heart.</p> +<pre> + "Is there, for honest poverty, + That hangs his head, and a' that? + The coward-slave, we pass him by, + We dare be poor for a' that! + For a' that, and a' that, + Our toils obscure, and a' that; + The rank is but the guinea stamp; + The man's the gowd for a' that." + + "What tho' on hamely fare we dine, + Wear hodden-gray, and a' that; + Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, + A man's a man for a' that. + For a' that, and a' that, + Their tinsel show, and a' that; + The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, + Is king o' men for a' that." + + "Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, + Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; + Tho' hundreds worship at his word, + He's but a coof for a' that; + For a' that, and a' that, + His riband, star, and a' that, + The man' o' independent mind, + He looks and laughs at a' that." + + "A prince can mak' a belted knight, + A marquis, duke, and a' that; + But an honest man's aboon his might, + Guid faith he mauna fa' that! + For a' that, and a' that, + Their dignities, and a' that, + The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, + Are higher ranks than a' that. + + "Then let us pray that come it may, + As come it will for a' that; + That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, + May bear the gree and a' that. + For a' that, and a' that; + It's cornin' yet for a' that + That man to man, the warld o'er, + Shall brithers be for a' that." +</pre> +<p>No grander declaration of independence was ever uttered. It +stirs the blood like a declaration of war. It is the apotheosis of +honesty, independence, sense and worth. And it is a prophecy of +that better day when men will be brothers the world over.</p> +<center>HIS THEOLOGY.</center> +<p>Burns was superior in heart and brain to the theologians of his +time. He knew that the creed of Calvin was infinitely cruel and +absurd, and he attacked it with every weapon that his brain could +forge.</p> +<p>He was not awed by the clergy, and he cared nothing for what was +called "authority." He insisted on thinking for himself. Sometimes +he faltered, and now and then, fearing that some friend might take +offence, he would say or write a word in favor of the Bible, and +sometimes he praised the Scriptures in words of scorn.</p> +<p>He laughed at the dogma of eternal pain—at hell as +described by the preacher:</p> +<pre> + "A vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit, + Fill'd fou o' lowin' brunstane, + Wha's ragin' flame an' scorchin' heat + Wad melt the hardest whun-stane! + The half asleep start up wi' fear, + An' think they hear it roarin', + When presently it does appear, + 'Twas but some neebor snorin'. + Asleep that day." +</pre> +<p>The dear old doctrine that man is totally depraved, that +morality is a snare—a flowery path leading to +perdition—excited the indignation of Burns. He put the +doctrine in verse:</p> +<pre> + "Morality, thou deadly bane, + Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain! + Vain is his hope, whose stay and trust is + In moral mercy, truth and justice." + He understood the hypocrites of his day: + "Hypocrisy, in mercy spare it! + That holy robe, O dinna tear it! + Spare't for their sakes wha aften wear it, + The lads in black; + But your curst wit, when it comes near it, + Rives't aff their back." + + "Then orthodoxy yet may prance, + And Learning in a woody dance, + And that fell cur ca'd Common Sense, + That bites sae sair, + Be banish'd owre the seas to France; + Let him bark there." + + "They talk religion in their mouth; + They talk o' mercy, grace, an' truth, + For what? to gie their malice skouth On some puir wight, + An' hunt him down, o'er right an' ruth, + To ruin straight." + + "Doctor Mac, Doctor Mac, + Ye should stretch on a rack, + To strike evil doers wi' terror; + To join faith and sense Upon any pretence, + Was heretic damnable error, + Doctor Mac, + Was heretic damnable error." +</pre> +<p>But the greatest, the sharpest, the deadliest, the keenest, the +wittiest thing ever said or written against Calvinism is Holy +Willie's Prayer:—</p> +<pre> + "O Thou, wha in the Heavens dost dwell, + Wha, as it pleases best thysel', + Sends ane to heaven and ten to hell, + A' for thy glory, + And no for onie guid or ill + They've done afore thee! + + "I bless and praise thy matchless might, + When thousands thou has left in night, + That I am here afore thy sight + For gifts an' grace, + A burnin' an' a shinin' light, + To a' this place. + + "What was I, or my generation, + That I should get sic exaltation? + I, wha deserve sic just damnation, + For broken laws, + Five thousand years 'fore my creation, + Thro' Adam's cause? + + "When frae my mither's womb I fell, + Thou might hae plunged me into hell, + To gnash my gums, to weep and wail, + In burnin' lake, + Where damnèd devils roar and yell, + Chained to a stake. + + "Yet I am here a chosen sample, + To show Thy grace is great and ample; + I'm here a pillar in Thy temple, + Strong as a rock, + A guide, a buckler, an example + To a' Thy flock." +</pre> +<p>In this poem you will find the creed stated just as it +is—with fairness and accuracy—and at the same time +stated so perfectly that its absurdity fills the mind with +inextinguishable laughter.</p> +<p>In this poem Burns nailed Calvinism to the cross, put it on the +rack, subjected it to every instrument of torture, flayed it alive, +burned it at the stake, and scattered its ashes to the winds.</p> +<p>In 1787 Burns wrote this curious letter to Miss Chalmers:</p> +<p>"I have taken tooth and nail to the Bible, and have got through +the five books of Moses and half way in Joshua.</p> +<p>"It is really a glorious book."</p> +<p>This must have been written in the spirit of Voltaire.</p> +<p>Think of Burns, with his loving, tender heart, half way in +Joshua, standing in blood to his knees, surrounded by the mangled +bodies of old men, women and babes, the swords of the victors +dripping with innocent blood, shouting—"This is really a +glorious sight."</p> +<p>A letter written on the seventh of March, 1788, contains the +clearest, broadest and most philosophical statement of the religion +of Burns to be found in his works:</p> +<p>"An honest man has nothing to fear. If we lie down in the grave, +the whole man a piece of broken machinery, to moulder with the +clods of the valley—be it so; at least there is an end of +pain and care, woes and wants. If that part of us called Mind does +survive the apparent destruction of the man, away with old-wife +prejudices and tales!</p> +<p>"Every age and every nation has a different set of stories; and, +as the many are always weak, of consequence they have often, +perhaps always, been deceived.</p> +<p>"A man conscious of having acted an honest part among his fellow +creatures, even granting that he may have been the sport at times +of passions and instincts, he goes to a great Unknown Being, who +could have had no other end in giving him existence but to make him +happy; who gave him those passions and instincts and well knows +their force.</p> +<p>"These, my worthy friend, are my ideas.</p> +<p>"It becomes a man of sense to think for himself, particularly in +a case where all men are equally interested, and where, indeed, all +men are equally in the dark."</p> +<p>"Religious nonsense is the most nonsensical nonsense."</p> +<p>"Why has a religious turn of mind always a tendency to narrow +and harden the heart?"</p> +<p>"All my fears and cares are for this world."</p> +<p>We have grown tired of gods and goddesses in art. Milton's +heavenly militia excites our laughter. Light-houses have driven +sirens from the dangerous coasts. We have found that we do not +depend on the imagination for wonders—there are millions of +miracles under our feet.</p> +<p>Nothing can be more marvelous than the common and everyday facts +of life. The phantoms have been cast aside. Men and women are +enough for men and women. In their lives is all the tragedy and all +the comedy that they can comprehend.</p> +<p>The painter no longer crowds his canvas with the winged and +impossible—he paints life as he sees it, people as he knows +them, and in whom he is interested. "The Angelus," the perfection +of pathos, is nothing but two peasants bending their heads in +thankfulness as they hear the solemn sound of the distant +bell—two peasants, who have nothing to be thankful +for—nothing but weariness and want, nothing but the crusts +that they soften with their tears—nothing. And yet as you +look at that picture you feel that they have something besides to +be thankful for—that they have life, love, and hope—and +so the distant bell makes music in their simple hearts.</p> +<p>Let me give you the difference between culture and +nature—between educated talent and real genius.</p> +<p>A little while ago one of the great poets died. I was reading +some of his volumes and during the same period was reading a little +from Robert Burns. And the difference between these two poets +struck me forcibly.</p> +<p>Tennyson was a piece of rare china decorated by the highest +art.</p> +<p>Burns was made of honest, human clay, moulded by sympathy and +love.</p> +<p>Tennyson dwelt in his fancy, for the most part, with kings and +queens, with lords and ladies, with knights and nobles.</p> +<p>Burns lingered by the fireside of the poor and humble, in the +thatched cottage of the peasant, with the imprisoned and despised. +He loved men and women in spite of their titles, and without regard +to the outward. Through robes and rags he saw and loved the +man.</p> +<p>Tennyson was touched by place and power, the insignia given by +chance or birth. As he grew old he grew narrower, lost interest in +the race, and gave his heart to the class to which he had been +lowered as a reward for melodious flattery.</p> +<p>Burns broadened and ripened with the flight of his few years. +His sympathies widened and increased to the last.</p> +<p>Tennyson had the art born of intellectual taste, of the sense of +mental proportion, knowing the color of adjectives and the +gradations of emphasis. His pictures were born in his brain, +exquisitely shaded by details, carefully wrought by painful and +conscious art.</p> +<p>Burns's brain was the servant of his heart. His melody was a +rhythm taught by love. He was touched by the miseries, the +injustice, the agony of his time. While Tennyson wrote of the +past—of kings long dead, of ladies who had been dust for many +centuries, Burns melted with his love the walls of caste—the +cruel walls that divide the rich and the poor.</p> +<p>Tennyson celebrated the birth of royal babes, the death of the +titled useless; gave wings to degraded dust, wearing the laurels +given by those who lived upon the toil of men whom they despised. +Burns poured poems from his heart, filled with tears and sobs for +the suffering poor; poems that helped to break the chains of +millions; poems that the enfranchised love to repeat; poems that +liberty loves to hear.</p> +<p>Tennyson was the poet of the past, of the twilight, of the +sunset, of decorous regret, of the vanished glories of barbarous +times, of the age of chivalry in which great nobles clad in steel +smote to death with battle axe and sword the unarmed peasants of +the field.</p> +<p>Burns was the poet of the dawn, glad that the night was fading +from the east. He kept his face toward the sunrise, caring nothing +for the midnight of the past, but loved with all the depth and +sincerity of his nature the few great souls—the lustrous +stars—that darkness cannot quench.</p> +<p>Tennyson was surrounded with what gold can give, touched with +the selfishness of wealth. He was educated at Oxford, and had what +are called the advantages of his time, and in maturer years was +somewhat swayed by the spirit of caste, by the descendants of the +ancient Pharisees, and at last became a lord.</p> +<p>Burns had but little knowledge of the world. What he knew was +taught him by his sympathies. Being a genius, he absorbed the good +and noble of which he heard or dreamed, and thus he happily outgrew +the smaller things with which he came in contact, and journeyed +toward the great—the wider world, until he reached the +end.</p> +<p>Tennyson was what is called religious. He believed in the +divinity of decorum, not falling on his face before the Eternal +King, but bowing gracefully, as all lords should, while uttering +thanks for favors partly undeserved, and thanks more fervid still +for those to come.</p> +<p>Burns had the deepest and the tenderest feelings in his heart. +The winding stream, the flowering shrub, the shady vale—these +were trysting places where the real God met those he loved, and +where his spirit prompted thoughts and words of thankfulness and +praise, took from their hearts the dross of selfishness and hate, +leaving the gold of love.</p> +<p>In the religion of Burns, form was nothing, creed was nothing, +feeling was everything. He had the religious climate of the soul, +the April that receives the seed, the June of blossom, and the +month of harvest.</p> +<p>Burns was a real poet of nature. He put fields and woods in his +lines. There were principles like oaks, and there were thoughts, +hints and suggestions as shy as violets beneath the withered +leaves. There were the warmth of home, the social virtues born of +equal state, that touched the heart and softened grief; that make +breaches in the cruel walls of pride; that make the rich and poor +clasp hands and feel like comrades, warm and true.</p> +<p>The house in which his spirit lived was not large. It enclosed +only space enough for common needs, built near the barren land of +want; but through the open door the sunlight streamed, and from its +windows all the stars were seen, while in the garden grew the +common flowers—the flowers that all the ages through have +been the messengers of honest love; and in the fields were heard +the rustling corn, and reapers songs, telling of well-requited +toil; and there were trees whose branches rose and fell and swayed +while birds filled all the air with music born of joy. He read with +tear-filled eyes the human page, and found within his breast the +history of hearts.</p> +<p>Tennyson's imagination lived in a palace ample, wondrous fair, +with dome and spire and galleries, where eyes of proud old pedigree +grew dim with gazing at the portraits of the worthless dead; and +there were parks and labyrinths of walks and ways and artificial +lakes where sailed the "double swans;" and there were flowers from +far-off lands with strange perfume, and men and women of the +grander sort, telling of better days and nobler deeds than men in +these poor times of commerce, trade and toil have hearts to do; +and, yet, from this fair dwelling—too vast, too finely +wrought, to be a home—he uttered wondrous words, painting +pictures that will never fade, and told, with every aid of art, old +tales of love and war, sometimes beguiling men of tears, enchanting +all with melody of speech, and sometimes rousing blood and planting +seeds of high resolve and noble deeds; and sometimes thoughts were +woven like tapestries in patterns beautiful, involved and strange, +where dreams and fancies interlaced like tendrils of a vine, like +harmonies that wander and return to catch the music of the central +theme, yet cold as traceries in frost wrought on glass by winter's +subtle art.</p> +<p>Tennyson was ingenious—Burns ingenuous. One was exclusive, +and in his exclusiveness a little disdain. The other pressed the +world against his heart.</p> +<p>Tennyson touched art on many sides, dealing with vast poetic +themes, and satisfied in many ways the intellectual tastes of +cultured men.</p> +<p>Tennyson is always perfectly self-possessed. He has poetic +sympathy, but not the fire and flame. No one thinks of him as +having been excited, as being borne away by passion's storm. His +pulse never rises. In artistic calm, he turns, polishes, perfects, +embroiders and beautifies. In him there is nothing of the storm and +chaos, nothing of the creative genius, no sea wrought to fury, +filling the heavens with its shattered cry.</p> +<p>Burns dwelt with simple things—with those that touch the +heart; that tell of joy; that spring from labor done; that lift the +burdens of despair from fainting souls; that soften hearts until +the pearls of pity fall from eyes unused to weep.</p> +<p>To illustrate his thought, he used the things he knew—the +things familiar to the world—not caring for the vanished +things—the legends told by artful tongues to artless +ears—but clinging to the common things of life and love and +death, adorning them with countless gems; and, over all, he placed +the bow of hope.</p> +<p>With him the man was greater than the king, the woman than the +queen. The greatest were the noblest, and the noblest were those +who loved their fellow-men the best, the ones who filled their +lives with generous deeds. Men admire Tennyson. Men love Robert +Burns.</p> +<p>He was a believer in God, and had confidence that this God was +sitting at the loom weaving with warp and woof of cause and effect, +of fear and fancy, pain and hope, of dream and shadows, of despair +and death, mingled with the light of love, the tapestries in which +at last all souls will see that all was perfect from the first. He +believed or hoped that the spirit of infinite goodness, soft as the +autumn air, filled all of heaven's dome with love.</p> +<p>Such a religion is easy to understand when it includes all races +through all times. It is consistent, if not with the highest +thought, with the deepest and the tenderest feelings of the +heart.</p> +<center>FROM CRADLE TO COFFIN.</center> +<p>There is no time to follow the steps of Burns from old Alloway, +by the Bonnie Doon in the clay-built hut, where the January wind +blew hansel in on Robin—to Mt. Oliphant, with its cold and +stingy soil, the hard factor, whose letters made the children +weep—working in the fields, or tired with "The thresher's +weary flinging tree," where he was thrilled, for the first time +with love's sweet pain that set his heart to music.</p> +<p>To Lochlea, still giving wings to thought—still working in +the unproductive fields, Lochlea where his father died, and reached +the rest that life denied.</p> +<p>To Mossgiel, where Burns reached the top and summit of his art +and wrote like one enrapt, inspired. Here he met and loved and gave +to immortality his Highland Mary.</p> +<p>To Edinburgh and fame, and back to Mauchline to Jean Armour and +honor, the noblest deed of all his life.</p> +<p>To Ellisland, by the winding Nith.</p> +<p>To Dumfries, a poor exciseman, wearing out his heart in the +disgusting details of degrading drudgery—suspected of treason +because he preferred Washington to Pitt—because he +sympathized with the French Revolution—because he was glad +that the American colonies had become a free nation.</p> +<p>At a banquet once, being asked to drink the health of Pitt, +Burns said: "I will give you a better toast—George +Washington." A little while after, when they wanted him to drink to +the success of the English arms, Burns said: "No; I will drink +this: May their success equal the justice of their cause." He sent +three or four little cannon to the French Convention, because he +sympathized with the French Revolution, and because of these little +things, his love of liberty, of freedom and justice, at Dumfries he +was suspected of being a traitor, and, as a result of these trivial +things, as a result of that suspicion, Burns was obliged to join +the Dumfries volunteers.</p> +<p>How pitiful that the author of "Scots wha hae with Wallace +bled," should be thought an enemy of Scotland!</p> +<p>Poor Burns! Old and broken before his time—surrounded by +the walking lumps of Dumfries' clay!</p> +<p>To appease the anger of his fellow-citizens—to convince +them that he was a patriot, he actually joined the Dumfries +volunteers,—bought his uniform on credit—amount about +seven pounds—was unable to pay—was threatened with +arrest and a jail by Matthew Penn.</p> +<p>These threats embittered his last hours.</p> +<p>A little while before his death, he said: "Do not let that +awkward squad—the Dumfries volunteers—fire over my +grave." We have a true insight into what his feelings were. But +they fired. They were bound to fire or die.</p> +<p>The last words uttered by Robert Burns were these: "That damned +scoundrel Matthew Penn."</p> +<p>Burns had another art, the art of ending—of stopping at +the right place. Nothing is more difficult than this. It is hard to +end a play—to get the right kind of roof on a house. Not one +story-teller in a thousand knows just the spot where the rocket +should explode. They go on talking after the stick has fallen.</p> +<p>Burns wrote short poems, and why? All great poems are short. +There cannot be a long poem any more than there can be a long joke. +I believe the best example of an ending perfectly accomplished you +will find in his "Vision."</p> +<p>There comes into his house, into that "auld clay biggin," his +muse, the spirit of a beautiful woman, and tells him what he can +do, and what he can't do, as a poet. He has a long talk with her +and now the thing is how to get her out of the house. You may think +that it is an easy thing. It is easy to get yourself into +difficulty, but not to get out.</p> +<p>I was struck with the beautiful manner in which Burns got that +angel out of the house.</p> +<p>Nothing could be happier than the ending of the +"Vision"—the leave-taking of the Muse:</p> +<pre> + "And wear thou this, she solemn said, + And bound the holly round my head: + The polished leaves and berries red + Did rustling play; + And, like a passing thought she fled. + In light away." +</pre> +<p>How that man rose above all his fellows in death! Do you know, +there is something wonderful in death. What a repose! What a piece +of sculpture! The common man dead looks royal; a genius dead, +sublime.</p> +<p>When a few years ago I visited all the places where Burns had +been, from the little house of clay with one room where he was +born, to the little house with one room where he now sleeps, I +thought of this. Yes, I visited them all, all the places made +immortal by his genius, the field where love first touched his +heart, the field where he ploughed up the home of the Mouse. I saw +the cottage where Robert and Jean first lived as man and wife, and +walked on "the banks and braes of Bonnie Doon." And when I stood by +his grave, I said: This man was a radical, a real genuine man. This +man believed in the dignity of labor, in the nobility of the +useful. This man believed in human love, in making a heaven here, +in judging men by their deeds instead of creeds and titles. This +man believed in the liberty of the soul, of thought and speech. +This man believed in the sacred rights of the individual; he +sympathized with the suffering and oppressed. This man had the +genius to change suffering and toil into song, to enrich poverty, +to make a peasant feel like a prince of the blood, to fill the +lives of the lowly with love and light. This man had the genius to +make robes of glory out of squalid rags. This man had the genius to +make Cleopatras, and Sapphos and Helens out of the freckled girls +of the villages and fields—and he had the genius to make Auld +Ayr, and Bonnie Doon, and Sweet Afton and the Winding Nith murmur +the name of Robert Burns forever.</p> +<p>This man left a legacy of glory to Scotland and the whole world; +he enriched our language, and with a generous hand scattered the +gems of thought. This man was the companion of poverty, and wept +the tears of grief, and yet he has caused millions to shed the +happy tears of joy.</p> +<p>His heart blossomed in a thousand songs—songs for all +times and all seasons—suited to every experience of the +heart—songs for the dawn of love—for the glance and +clasp and kiss of courtship—for "favors secret, sweet and +precious"—for the glow and flame, the ecstasy and rapture of +wedded life—songs of parting and despair—songs of hope +and simple joy—songs for the vanished days—songs for +birth and burial—songs for wild war's deadly blast, and songs +for gentle peace—songs for the dying and the dead—songs +for labor and content—songs for the spinning wheel, the +sickle and the plow—songs for sunshine and for storm, for +laughter and for tears—songs that will be sung as long as +language lives and passion sways the heart of man.</p> +<p>And when I was at his birth-place, at that little clay house +where he was born, standing in that sacred place, I wrote these +lines:</p> +<pre> + Though Scotland boasts a thousand names, + Of patriot, king and peer, + The noblest, grandest of them all, + Was loved and cradled here. + Here lived the gentle peasant-prince, + The loving cotter-king, + Compared with whom the greatest lord + Is but a titled thing. + + 'Tis but a cot roofed in with straw, + A hovel made of clay; + One door shuts out the snow and storm, + One window greets the day; + And yet I stand within this room, + And hold all thrones in scorn; + For here beneath this lowly thatch, + Love's sweetest bard was born. + + Within this hallowed hut I feel + Like one who clasps a shrine, + When the glad lips at last have touched + The something deemed divine. + And here the world through all the years, + As long as day returns, + The tribute of its love and tears, + Will pay to Robert Burns. +</pre> +<a name="link0003" id="link0003"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>ABRAHAM LINCOLN</h2> +<h3>I.</h3> +<p>ON the 12th of February, 1809, two babes were born—one in +the woods of Kentucky, amid the hardships and poverty of pioneers; +one in England, surrounded by wealth and culture. One was educated +in the University of Nature, the other at Cambridge.</p> +<p>One associated his name with the enfranchisement of labor, with +the emancipation of millions, with the salvation of the Republic. +He is known to us as Abraham Lincoln.</p> +<p>The other broke the chains of superstition and filled the world +with intellectual light, and he is known as Charles Darwin.</p> +<p>Nothing is grander than to break chains from the bodies of +men—nothing nobler than to destroy the phantoms of the +soul.</p> +<p>Because of these two men the nineteenth century is +illustrious.</p> +<p>A few men and women make a nation glorious—Shakespeare +made England immortal, Voltaire civilized and humanized France; +Goethe, Schiller and Humboldt lifted Germany into the light. +Angelo, Raphael, Galileo and Bruno crowned with fadeless laurel the +Italian brow, and now the most precious treasure of the Great +Republic is the memory of Abraham Lincoln.</p> +<p>Every generation has its heroes, its iconoclasts, its pioneers, +its ideals. The people always have been and still are divided, at +least into classes—the many, who with their backs to the +sunrise worship the past, and the few, who keep their faces toward +the dawn—the many, who are satisfied with the world as it is; +the few, who labor and suffer for the future, for those to be, and +who seek to rescue the oppressed, to destroy the cruel distinctions +of caste, and to civilize mankind.</p> +<p>Yet it sometimes happens that the liberator of one age becomes +the oppressor of the next. His reputation becomes so great—he +is so revered and worshiped—that his followers, in his name, +attack the hero who endeavors to take another step in advance.</p> +<p>The heroes of the Revolution, forgetting the justice for which +they fought, put chains upon the limbs of others, and in their +names the lovers of liberty were denounced as ingrates and +traitors.</p> +<p>During the Revolution our fathers to justify their rebellion dug +down to the bed-rock of human rights and planted their standard +there. They declared that all men were entitled to liberty and that +government derived its power from the consent of the governed. But +when victory came, the great principles were forgotten and chains +were put upon the limbs of men. Both of the great political parties +were controlled by greed and selfishness. Both were the defenders +and protectors of slavery. For nearly three-quarters of a century +these parties had control of the Republic. The principal object of +both parties was the protection of the infamous institution. Both +were eager to secure the Southern vote and both sacrificed +principle and honor upon the altar of success.</p> +<p>At last the Whig party died and the Republican was born. This +party was opposed to the further extension of slavery. The +Democratic party of the South wished to make the "divine +institution" national—while the Democrats of the North wanted +the question decided by each territory for itself.</p> +<p>Each of these parties had conservatives and extremists. The +extremists of the Democratic party were in the rear and wished to +go back; the extremists of the Republican party were in the front, +and wished to go forward. The extreme Democrat was willing to +destroy the Union for the sake of slavery, and the extreme +Republican was willing to destroy the Union for the sake of +liberty.</p> +<p>Neither party could succeed without the votes of its +extremists.</p> +<p>This was the condition in 1858-60.</p> +<p>When Lincoln was a child his parents removed from Kentucky to +Indiana. A few trees were felled—a log hut open to the south, +no floor, no window, was built—a little land plowed and here +the Lincolns lived. Here the patient, thoughtful, silent, loving +mother died—died in the wide forest as a leaf dies, leaving +nothing to her son but the memory of her love.</p> +<p>In a few years the family moved to Illinois. Lincoln then almost +grown, clad in skins, with no woven stitch upon his +body—walking and driving the cattle. Another farm was +opened—a few acres subdued and enough raised to keep the wolf +from the door. Lincoln quit the farm—went down the Ohio and +Mississippi as a hand on a flat-boat—afterward clerked in a +country store—then in partnership with another bought the +store—failed. Nothing left but a few debts—learned the +art of surveying—made about half a living and paid something +on the debts—read law—admitted to the bar—tried a +few small cases—nominated for the Legislature and made a +speech.</p> +<p>This speech was in favor of a tariff, not only for revenue, but +to encourage American manufacturers and to protect American +workingmen. Lincoln knew then as well as we do now, that +everything, to the limits of the possible, that Americans use +should be produced by the energy, skill and ingenuity of Americans. +He knew that the more industries we had, the greater variety of +things we made, the greater would be the development of the +American brain. And he knew that great men and great women are the +best things that a nation can produce,—the finest crop a +country can possibly raise.</p> +<p>He knew that a nation that sells raw material will grow ignorant +and poor, while the people who manufacture will grow intelligent +and rich. To dig, to chop, to plow, requires more muscle than mind, +more strength than thought.</p> +<p>To invent, to manufacture, to take advantage of the forces of +nature—this requires thought, talent, genius. This develops +the brain and gives wings to the imagination.</p> +<p>It is better for Americans to purchase from Americans, even if +the things purchased cost more.</p> +<p>If we purchase a ton of steel rails from England for twenty +dollars, then we have the rails and England the money; But if we +buy a ton of steel rails from an American for twenty-five dollars, +then America has both the rails and the money.</p> +<p>Judging from the present universal depression and the recent +elections, Lincoln, in his first speech, stood on solid rock and +was absolutely right. Lincoln was educated in the University of +Nature—educated by cloud and star—by field and winding +stream—by billowed plains and solemn forests—by +morning's birth and death of day—by storm and night—by +the ever eager Spring—by Summer's wealth of leaf and vine and +flower—the sad and transient glories of the Autumn +woods—and Winter, builder of home and fireside, and whose +storms without, create the social warmth within.</p> +<p>He was perfectly acquainted with the political questions of the +day—heard them discussed at taverns and country stores, at +voting places and courts and on the stump. He knew all the +arguments for and against, and no man of his time was better +equipped for intellectual conflict. He knew the average +mind—the thoughts of the people, the hopes and prejudices of +his fellow-men. He had the power of accurate statement. He was +logical, candid and sincere. In addition, he had the "touch of +nature that makes the whole world kin."</p> +<p>In 1858 he was a candidate for the Senate against Stephen A. +Douglas.</p> +<p>The extreme Democrats would not vote for Douglas, but the +extreme Republicans did vote for Lincoln. Lincoln occupied the +middle ground, and was the compromise candidate of his own party. +He had lived for many years in the intellectual territory of +compromise—in a part of our country settled by Northern and +Southern men—where Northern and Southern ideas met, and the +ideas of the two sections were brought together and compared.</p> +<p>The sympathies of Lincoln, his ties of kindred, were with the +South. His convictions, his sense of justice, and his ideals, were +with the North. He knew the horrors of slavery, and he felt the +unspeakable ecstasies and glories of freedom. He had the kindness, +the gentleness, of true greatness, and he could not have been a +master; he had the manhood and independence of true greatness, and +he could not have been a slave. He was just, and was incapable of +putting a burden upon others that he himself would not willingly +bear.</p> +<p>He was merciful and profound, and it was not necessary for him +to read the history of the world to know that liberty and slavery +could not live in the same nation, or in the same brain. Lincoln +was a statesman.. And there is this difference between a politician +and a statesman. A politician schemes and works in every way to +make the people do something for him. A statesman wishes to do +something for the people. With him place and power are means to an +end, and the end is the good of his country.</p> +<p>In this campaign Lincoln demonstrated three things—first, +that he was the intellectual superior of his opponent; second, that +he was right; and third, that a majority of the voters of Illinois +were on his side.</p> +<center>II.</center> +<p>IN 1860 the Republic reached a crisis. The conflict between +liberty and slavery could no longer be delayed. For three-quarters +of a century the forces had been gathering for the battle.</p> +<p>After the Revolution, principle was sacrificed for the sake of +gain. The Constitution contradicted the Declaration. Liberty as a +principle was held in contempt. Slavery took possession of the +Government. Slavery made the laws, corrupted courts, dominated +Presidents and demoralized the people.</p> +<p>I do not hold the South responsible for slavery any more than I +do the North. The fact is, that individuals and nations act as they +must. There is no chance. Back of every event—of every hope, +prejudice, fancy and dream—of every opinion and +belief—of every vice and virtue—of every smile and +curse, is the efficient cause. The present moment is the child, and +the necessary child, of all the past.</p> +<p>Northern politicians wanted office, and so they defended +slavery; Northern merchants wanted to sell their goods to the +South, and so they were the enemies of freedom. The preacher wished +to please the people who paid his salary, and so he denounced the +slave for not being satisfied with the position in which the good +God had placed him.</p> +<p>The respectable, the rich, the prosperous, the holders of and +the seekers for office, held liberty in contempt. They regarded the +Constitution as far more sacred than the rights of men. Candidates +for the presidency were applauded because they had tried to make +slave States of free territory, and the highest court solemnly and +ignorantly decided that colored men and women had no rights. Men +who insisted that freedom was better than slavery, and that mothers +should not be robbed of their babes, were hated, despised and +mobbed. Mr. Douglas voiced the feelings of millions when he +declared that he did not care whether slavery was voted up or down. +Upon this question the people, a majority of them, were almost +savages. Honor, manhood, conscience, principle—all sacrificed +for the sake of gain or office.</p> +<p>From the heights of philosophy—standing above the +contending hosts, above the prejudices, the sentimentalities of the +day—Lincoln was great enough and brave enough and wise enough +to utter these prophetic words:</p> +<p>"A house divided against itself cannot stand. I believe this +Government cannot permanently endure half slave and half free. I do +not expect the Union to be dissolved; I do not expect the house to +fall; but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become +all the one thing or the other. Either the opponents of slavery +will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public +mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate +extinction, or its advocates will push it further until it becomes +alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new, North as well +as South."</p> +<p>This declaration was the standard around which gathered the +grandest political party the world has ever seen, and this +declaration made Lincoln the leader of that vast host.</p> +<p>In this, the first great crisis, Lincoln uttered the victorious +truth that made him the foremost man in the Republic.</p> +<p>The Republican party nominated him for the presidency and the +people decided at the polls that a house divided against itself +could not stand, and that slavery had cursed soul and soil +enough.</p> +<p>It is not a common thing to elect a really great man to fill the +highest official position. I do not say that the great Presidents +have been chosen by accident. Probably it would be better to say +that they were the favorites of a happy chance.</p> +<p>The average man is afraid of genius. He feels as an awkward man +feels in the presence of a sleight-of-hand performer. He admires +and suspects. Genius appears to carry too much sail—to lack +prudence, has too much courage. The ballast of dullness inspires +confidence.</p> +<p>By a happy chance Lincoln was nominated and elected in spite of +his fitness—and the patient, gentle, just and loving man was +called upon to bear as great a burden as man has ever borne.</p> +<center>III.</center> +<p>THEN came another crisis—the crisis of Secession and Civil +war.</p> +<p>Again Lincoln spoke the deepest feeling and the highest thought +of the Nation. In his first message he said:</p> +<p>"The central idea of secession is the essence of anarchy."</p> +<p>He also showed conclusively that the North and South, in spite +of secession, must remain face to face—that physically they +could not separate—that they must have more or less commerce, +and that this commerce must be carried on either between the two +sections as friends, or as aliens.</p> +<p>This situation and its consequences he pointed out to absolute +perfection in these words:</p> +<p>"Can aliens make treaties easier than friends can make laws? Can +treaties be more faithfully enforced between aliens than laws among +friends?"</p> +<p>After having stated fully and fairly the philosophy of the +conflict, after having said enough to satisfy any calm and +thoughtful mind, he addressed himself to the hearts of America. +Probably there are few finer passages in literature than the close +of Lincoln's inaugural address:</p> +<p>"I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must +not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not +break, our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory +stretching from every battlefield and patriotic grave to every +loving heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will swell +the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, +by the better angels of our nature."</p> +<p>These noble, these touching, these pathetic words, were +delivered in the presence of rebellion, in the midst of spies and +conspirators—surrounded by but few friends, most of whom were +unknown, and some of whom were wavering in their fidelity—at +a time when secession was arrogant and organized, when patriotism +was silent, and when, to quote the expressive words of Lincoln +himself, "Sinners were calling the righteous to repentance."</p> +<p>When Lincoln became President, he was held in contempt by the +South—underrated by the North and East—not appreciated +even by his cabinet—and yet he was not only one of the +wisest, but one of the shrewdest of mankind. Knowing that he had +the right to enforce the laws of the Union in all parts of the +United States, and Territories—knowing, as he did, that the +secessionists were in the wrong, he also knew that they had +sympathizers not only in the North, but in other lands.</p> +<p>Consequently, he felt that it was of the utmost importance that +the South should fire the first shot, should do some act that would +solidify the North, and gain for us the justification of the +civilized world.</p> +<p>He proposed to give food to the soldiers at Sumter. He asked the +advice of all his cabinet on this question, and all, with the +exception of Montgomery Blair, answered in the negative, giving +their reasons in writing. In spite of this, Lincoln took his own +course—endeavored to send the supplies, and while thus +engaged, doing his simple duty, the South commenced actual +hostilities and fired on the fort. The course pursued by Lincoln +was absolutely right, and the act of the South to a great extent +solidified the North, and gained for the Republic the justification +of a great number of people in other lands.</p> +<p>At that time Lincoln appreciated the scope and consequences of +the impending conflict. Above all other thoughts in his mind was +this:</p> +<p>"This conflict will settle the question, at least for centuries +to come, whether man is capable of governing himself, and +consequently is of greater importance to the free than to the +enslaved."</p> +<p>He knew what depended on the issue and he said: "We shall nobly +save, or meanly lose, the last, best hope of earth."</p> +<p>HEN came a crisis in the North. It became clearer and clearer to +Lincoln's mind, day by day, that the Rebellion was slavery, and +that it was necessary to keep the border States on the side of the +Union. For this purpose he proposed a scheme of emancipation and +colonization—a scheme by which the owners of slaves should be +paid the full value of what they called their "property."</p> +<p>He knew that if the border States agreed to gradual +emancipation, and received compensation for their slaves, they +would be forever lost to the Confederacy, whether secession +succeeded or not. It was objected at the time, by some, that the +scheme was far too expensive; but Lincoln, wiser than his +advisers—far wiser than his enemies—demonstrated that +from an economical point of view, his course was best.</p> +<center>IV.</center> +<p>He proposed that $400 be paid for slaves, including men, women +and children. This was a large price, and yet he showed how much +cheaper it was to purchase than to carry on the war.</p> +<p>At that time, at the price mentioned, there were about $750,000 +worth of slaves in Delaware. The cost of carrying on the war was at +least two millions of dollars a day, and for one-third of one day's +expenses, all the slaves in Delaware could be purchased. He also +showed that all the slaves in Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky and +Missouri could be bought, at the same price, for less than the +expense of carrying on the war for eighty-seven days.</p> +<p>This was the wisest thing that could have been proposed, and yet +such was the madness of the South, such the indignation of the +North, that the advice was unheeded.</p> +<p>Again, in July, 1862, he urged on the Representatives of the +border States a scheme of gradual compensated emancipation; but the +Representatives were too deaf to hear, too blind to see.</p> +<p>Lincoln always hated slavery, and yet he felt the obligations +and duties of his position. In his first message he assured the +South that the laws, including the most odious of all—the law +for the return of fugitive slaves—would be enforced. The +South would not hear. Afterward he proposed to purchase the slaves +of the border States, but the proposition was hardly +discussed—hardly heard. Events came thick and fast; theories +gave way to facts, and everything was left to force.</p> +<p>The extreme Democrat of the North was fearful that slavery might +be destroyed, that the Constitution might be broken, and that +Lincoln, after all, could not be trusted; and at the same time the +radical Republican feared that Lincoln loved the Union more than he +did liberty.</p> +<p>The fact is, that he tried to discharge the obligations of his +great office, knowing from the first that slavery must perish. The +course pursued by Lincoln was so gentle, so kind and persistent, so +wise and logical, that millions of Northern Democrats sprang to the +defence, not only of the Union, but of his administration. Lincoln +refused to be led or hurried by Fremont or Hunter, by Greeley or +Sumner. From first to last he was the real leader, and he kept step +with events.</p> +<center>V.</center> +<p>ON the 22d of July, 1862, Lincoln sent word to the members of +his cabinet that he wished to see them. It so happened that +Secretary Chase was the first to arrive. He found Lincoln reading a +book. Looking up from the page, the President said: "Chase, did you +ever read this book?" "What book is it?" asked Chase. "Artemus +Ward," replied Lincoln. "Let me read you this chapter, entitled +'<i>Wax Wurx in Albany</i>.'" And so he began reading while the +other members of the cabinet one by one came in. At last Stanton +told Mr. Lincoln that he was in a great hurry, and if any business +was to be done he would like to do it at once. Whereupon Mr. +Lincoln laid down the open book, opened a drawer, took out a paper +and said: "Gentlemen, I have called you together to notify you what +I have determined to do. I want no advice. Nothing can change my +mind."</p> +<p>He then read the Proclamation of Emancipation. Chase thought +there ought to be something about God at the close, to which +Lincoln replied: "Put it in, it won't hurt it." It was also agreed +that the President would wait for a victory in the field before +giving the Proclamation to the world.</p> +<p>The meeting was over, the members went their way. Mr. Chase was +the last to go, and as he went through the door looked back and saw +that Mr. Lincoln had taken up the book and was again engrossed in +the <i>Wax Wurx at Albany.</i></p> +<p>This was on the 22d of July, 1862. On the 22d of August of the +same year—after Lincoln wrote his celebrated letter to Horace +Greeley, in which he stated that his object was to save the Union; +<i>that he would save it with slavery if he could</i>; that if it +was necessary to destroy slavery in order to save the Union, he +would; in other words, he would do what was necessary to save the +Union.</p> +<p>This letter disheartened, to a great degree, thousands and +millions of the friends of freedom. They felt that Mr. Lincoln had +not attained the moral height upon which they supposed he stood. +And yet, when this letter was written, the Emancipation +Proclamation was in his hands, and had been for thirty days, +waiting only an opportunity to give it to the world.</p> +<p>Some two weeks after the letter to Greeley, Lincoln was waited +on by a committee of clergymen, and was by them informed that it +was God's will that he should issue a Proclamation of Emancipation. +He replied to them, in substance, that the day of miracles had +passed. He also mildly and kindly suggested that if it were God's +will this Proclamation should be issued, certainly God would have +made known that will to him—to the person whose duty it was +to issue it.</p> +<p>On the 22d day of September, 1862, the most glorious date in the +history of the Republic, the Proclamation of Emancipation was +issued.</p> +<p>Lincoln had reached the generalization of all argument upon the +question of slavery and freedom—a generalization that never +has been, and probably never will be, excelled:</p> +<p>"In giving freedom to the slave, we assure freedom to the +free."</p> +<p>This is absolutely true. Liberty can be retained, can be +enjoyed, only by giving it to others. The spendthrift saves, the +miser is prodigal. In the realm of Freedom, waste is husbandry. He +who puts chains upon the body of another shackles his own soul. The +moment the Proclamation was issued the cause of the Republic became +sacred. From that moment the North fought for the human race.</p> +<p>From that moment the North stood under the blue and stars, the +flag of Nature, sublime and free.</p> +<p>In 1831, Lincoln went down the Mississippi on a flat-boat. He +received the extravagant salary of ten dollars a month. When he +reached New Orleans, he and some of his companions went about the +city.</p> +<p>Among other places, they visited a slave market, where men and +women were being sold at auction. A young colored girl was on the +block. Lincoln heard the brutal words of the auctioneer—the +savage remarks of bidders. The scene filled his soul with +indignation and horror.</p> +<p>Turning to his companions, he said, "Boys, if I ever get a +chance to hit slavery, by God I'll hit it hard!"</p> +<p>The helpless girl, unconsciously, had planted in a great heart +the seeds of the Proclamation.</p> +<p>Thirty-one years afterward the chance came, the oath was kept, +and to four millions of slaves, of men, women and children, was +restored liberty, the jewel of the soul.</p> +<p>In the history, in the fiction of the world, there is nothing +more intensely dramatic than this.</p> +<p>Lincoln held within his brain the grandest truths, and he held +them as unconsciously, as easily, as naturally, as a waveless pool +holds within its stainless breast a thousand stars.</p> +<p>In these two years we had traveled from the Ordinance of +Secession to the Proclamation of Emancipation.</p> +<center>VI.</center> +<p>WE were surrounded by enemies. Many of the so-called great in +Europe and England were against us. They hated the Republic, +despised our institutions, and sought in many ways to aid the +South.</p> +<p>Mr. Gladstone announced that Jefferson Davis had made a nation, +and that he did not believe the restoration of the American Union +by force attainable.</p> +<p>From the Vatican came words of encouragement for the South.</p> +<p>It was declared that the North was fighting for empire and the +South for independence.</p> +<p>The Marquis of Salisbury said: "The people of the South are the +natural allies of England. The North keeps an opposition shop in +the same department of trade as ourselves."</p> +<p>Not a very elevated sentiment—but English.</p> +<p>Some of their statesmen declared that the subjugation of the +South by the North would be a calamity to the world.</p> +<p>Louis Napoleon was another enemy, and he endeavored to establish +a monarchy in Mexico, to the end that the great North might be +destroyed. But the patience, the uncommon common sense, the +statesmanship of Lincoln—in spite of foreign hate and +Northern division—triumphed over all. And now we forgive all +foes. Victory makes forgiveness easy.</p> +<p>Lincoln was by nature a diplomat. He knew the art of sailing +against the wind. He had as much shrewdness as is consistent with +honesty. He understood, not only the rights of individuals, but of +nations. In all his correspondence with other governments he +neither wrote nor sanctioned a line which afterward was used to tie +his hands. In the use of perfect English he easily rose above all +his advisers and all his fellows.</p> +<p>No one claims that Lincoln did all. He could have done nothing +without the generals in the field, and the generals could have done +nothing without their armies. The praise is due to all—to the +private as much as to the officer; to the lowest who did his duty, +as much as to the highest.</p> +<p>My heart goes out to the brave private as much as to the leader +of the host.</p> +<p>But Lincoln stood at the centre and with infinite patience, with +consummate skill, with the genius of goodness, directed, cheered, +consoled and conquered.</p> +<center>VII.</center> +<p>SLAVERY was the cause of the war, and slavery was the perpetual +stumbling-block. As the war went on, question after question +arose—questions that could not be answered by theories. +Should we hand back the slave to his master, when the master was +using his slave to destroy the Union? If the South was right, +slaves were property, and by the laws of war anything that might be +used to the advantage of the enemy might be confiscated by us. +Events did not wait for discussion. General Butler denominated the +negro as "a contraband." Congress provided that the property of the +rebels might be confiscated.</p> +<p>The extreme Democrats of the North regarded the slave as more +sacred than life. It was no harm to kill the master—to burn +his house, to ravage his fields—but you must not free his +slave. If in war a nation has the right to take the property of its +citizens—of its friends—certainly it has the right to +take the property of those it has the right to kill.</p> +<p>Lincoln was wise enough to know that war is governed by the laws +of war, and that during the conflict constitutions are silent. All +that he could do he did in the interests of peace. He offered to +execute every law—including the most infamous of all—to +buy the slaves in the border States—to establish gradual, +compensated emancipation; but the South would not hear. Then he +confiscated the property of rebels—treated the slaves as +contraband of war, used them to put down the Rebellion, armed them +and clothed them in the uniform of the Republic—was in favor +of making them citizens and allowing them to stand on an equality +with their white brethren under the flag of the Nation. During +these years Lincoln moved with events, and every step he took has +been justified by the considerate judgment of mankind.</p> +<center>VIII.</center> +<p>LINCOLN not only watched the war, but kept his hand on the +political pulse. In 1863 a tide set in against the administration. +A Republican meeting was to be held in Springfield, Illinois, and +Lincoln wrote a letter to be read at this convention. It was in his +happiest vein. It was a perfect defence of his administration, +including the Proclamation of Emancipation. Among other things he +said:</p> +<p>"But the proclamation, as law, either is valid or it is not +valid. If it is not valid it needs no retraction, but if it is +valid it cannot be retracted, any more than the dead can be brought +to life."</p> +<p>To the Northern Democrats who said they would not fight for +negroes, Lincoln replied:</p> +<p>"Some of them seem willing to fight for you—but no +matter."</p> +<p>Of negro soldiers:</p> +<p>"But negroes, like other people, act upon motives. Why should +they do anything for us if we will do nothing for them? If they +stake their lives for us they must be prompted by the strongest +motive—even the promise of freedom. And the promise, being +made, must be kept."</p> +<p>There is one line in this letter that will give it +immortality:</p> +<p>"The Father of waters again goes unvexed to the sea."</p> +<p>This line is worthy of Shakespeare.</p> +<p>Another:</p> +<p>"Among free men there can be no successful appeal from the +ballot to the bullet."</p> +<p>He draws a comparison between the white men against us and the +black men for us:</p> +<p>"And then there will be some black men who can remember that +with silent tongue and clenched teeth and steady eye and +well-poised bayonet they have helped mankind on to this great +consummation; while I fear there will be some white ones unable to +forget that with malignant heart and deceitful speech they strove +to hinder it."</p> +<p>Under the influence of this letter, the love of country, of the +Union, and above all, the love of liberty, took possession of the +heroic North.</p> +<p>There was the greatest moral exaltation ever known.</p> +<p>The spirit of liberty took possession of the people. The masses +became sublime.</p> +<p>To fight for yourself is natural—to fight for others is +grand; to fight for your country is noble—to fight for the +human race—for the liberty of hand and brain—is nobler +still.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, the defenders of slavery had sown the seeds +of their own defeat. They dug the pit in which they fell. Clay and +Webster and thousands of others had by their eloquence made the +Union almost sacred. The Union was the very tree of life, the +source and stream and sea of liberty and law.</p> +<p>For the sake of slavery millions stood by the Union, for the +sake of liberty millions knelt at the altar of the Union; and this +love of the Union is what, at last, overwhelmed the Confederate +hosts.</p> +<p>It does not seem possible that only a few years ago our +Constitution, our laws, our Courts, the Pulpit and the Press +defended and upheld the institution of slavery—that it was a +crime to feed the hungry—to give water to the lips of +thirst—shelter to a woman flying from the whip and chain!</p> +<p>The old flag still flies—the stars are there—the +stains have gone.</p> +<center>IX.</center> +<p>LINCOLN always saw the end. He was unmoved by the storms and +currents of the times. He advanced too rapidly for the conservative +politicians, too slowly for the radical enthusiasts. He occupied +the line of safety, and held by his personality—by the force +of his great character, by his charming candor—the masses on +his side.</p> +<p>The soldiers thought of him as a father.</p> +<p>All who had lost their sons in battle felt that they had his +sympathy—felt that his face was as sad as theirs. They knew +that Lincoln was actuated by one motive, and that his energies were +bent to the attainment of one end—the salvation of the +Republic.</p> +<p>They knew that he was kind, sincere and merciful. They knew that +in his veins there was no drop of tyrants' blood. They knew that he +used his power to protect the innocent, to save reputation and +life—that he had the brain of a philosopher—the heart +of a mother.</p> +<p>During all the years of war, Lincoln stood the embodiment of +mercy, between discipline and death. He pitied the imprisoned and +condemned. He took the unfortunate in his arms, and was the friend +even of the convict. He knew temptation's strength—the +weakness of the will—and how in fury's sudden flame the +judgment drops the scales, and passion—blind and +deaf—usurps the throne.</p> +<p>One day a woman, accompanied by a Senator, called on the +President. The woman was the wife of one of Mosby's men. Her +husband had been captured, tried and condemned to be shot. She came +to ask for the pardon of her husband. The President heard her story +and then asked what kind of man her husband was. "Is he +intemperate, does he abuse the children and beat you?" "No, no," +said the wife, "he is a good man, a good husband, he loves me and +he loves the children, and we cannot live without him. The only +trouble is that he is a fool about politics—I live in the +North, born there, and if I get him home, he will do no more +fighting for the South." "Well," said Mr. Lincoln, after examining +the papers, "I will pardon your husband and turn him over to you +for safe keeping." The poor woman, overcome with joy, sobbed as +though her heart would break.</p> +<p>"My dear woman," said Lincoln, "if I had known how badly it was +going to make you feel, I never would have pardoned him." "You do +not understand me," she cried between her sobs. "You do not +understand me." "Yes, yes, I do," answered the President, "and if +you do not go away at once I shall be crying with you."</p> +<p>On another occasion, a member of Congress, on his way to see +Lincoln, found in one of the anterooms of the White House an old +white-haired man, sobbing—his wrinkled face wet with tears. +The old man told him that for several days he had tried to see the +President—that he wanted a pardon for his son. The +Congressman told the old man to come with him and he would +introduce him to Mr. Lincoln. On being introduced, the old man +said: "Mr. Lincoln, my wife sent me to you. We had three boys. They +all joined your army. One of 'em has been killed, one's a fighting +now, and one of 'em, the youngest, has been tried for deserting and +he's going to be shot day after to-morrow. He never deserted. He's +wild, and he may have drunk too much and wandered off, but he never +deserted. 'Taint in the blood. He's his mother's favorite, and if +he's shot, I know she'll die." The President, turning to his +secretary, said: "Telegraph General Butler to suspend the execution +in the case of————[giving the name] until +further orders from me, and ask him to +answer————."</p> +<p>The Congressman congratulated the old man on his +success—but the old man did not respond. He was not +satisfied. "Mr. President," he began, "I can't take that news home. +It won't satisfy his mother. How do I know but what you'll give +further orders to-morrow?" "My good man," said Mr. Lincoln, "I have +to do the best I can. The generals are complaining because I pardon +so many. They say that my mercy destroys discipline. Now, when you +get home you tell his mother what you said to me about my giving +further orders, and then you tell her that I said this: 'If your +son lives until they get further orders from me, that when he does +die people will say that old Methusaleh was a baby compared to +him.'"</p> +<p>The pardoning power is the only remnant of absolute sovereignty +that a President has. Through all the years, Lincoln will be known +as Lincoln the loving, Lincoln the merciful.</p> +<center>X.</center> +<p>LINCOLN had the keenest sense of humor, and always saw the +laughable side even of disaster. In his humor there was logic and +the best of sense. No matter how complicated the question, or how +embarrassing the situation, his humor furnished an answer and a +door of escape.</p> +<p>Vallandigham was a friend of the South, and did what he could to +sow the seeds of failure. In his opinion everything, except +rebellion, was unconstitutional.</p> +<p>He was arrested, convicted by a court martial, and sentenced to +imprisonment.</p> +<p>There was doubt about the legality of the trial, and thousands +in the North denounced the whole proceeding as tyrannical and +infamous. At the same time millions demanded that Vallandigham +should be punished.</p> +<p>Lincoln's humor came to the rescue. He disapproved of the +findings of the court, changed the punishment, and ordered that Mr. +Vallandigham should be sent to his friends in the South.</p> +<p>Those who regarded the act as unconstitutional almost forgave it +for the sake of its humor.</p> +<p>Horace Greeley always had the idea that he was greatly superior +to Lincoln, because he lived in a larger town, and for a long time +insisted that the people of the North and the people of the South +desired peace. He took it upon himself to lecture Lincoln. Lincoln, +with that wonderful sense of humor, united with shrewdness and +profound wisdom, told Greeley that, if the South really wanted +peace, he (Lincoln) desired the same thing, and was doing all he +could to bring it about. Greeley insisted that a commissioner +should be appointed, with authority to negotiate with the +representatives of the Confederacy. This was Lincoln's opportunity. +He authorized Greeley to act as such commissioner. The great editor +felt that he was caught. For a time he hesitated, but finally went, +and found that the Southern commissioners were willing to take into +consideration any offers of peace that Lincoln might make, +consistent with the independence of the Confederacy.</p> +<p>The failure of Greeley was humiliating, and the position in +which he was left, absurd.</p> +<p>Again the humor of Lincoln had triumphed.</p> +<p>Lincoln, to satisfy a few fault-finders in the North, went to +Grant's headquarters and met some Confederate commissioners. He +urged that it was hardly proper for him to negotiate with the +representatives of rebels in arms—that if the South wanted +peace, all they had to do was to stop fighting. One of the +commissioners cited as a precedent the fact that Charles the First +negotiated with rebels in arms. To which Lincoln replied that +Charles the First lost his head.</p> +<p>The conference came to nothing, as Mr. Lincoln expected.</p> +<p>The commissioners, one of them being Alexander H. Stephens, who, +when in good health, weighed about ninety pounds, dined with the +President and Gen. Grant. After dinner, as they were leaving, +Stephens put on an English ulster, the tails of which reached the +ground, while the collar was somewhat above the wearer's head.</p> +<p>As Stephens went out, Lincoln touched Grant and said: "Grant, +look at Stephens. Did you ever see as little a nubbin with as much +shuck?"</p> +<p>Lincoln always tried to do things in the easiest way. He did not +waste his strength. He was not particular about moving along +straight lines. He did not tunnel the mountains. He was willing to +go around, and reach the end desired as a river reaches the +sea.</p> +<center>XI.</center> +<p>One of the most wonderful things ever done by Lincoln was the +promotion of General Hooker. After the battle of Fredericksburg, +General Burnside found great fault with Hooker, and wished to have +him removed from the Army of the Potomac. Lincoln disapproved of +Burnside's order, and gave Hooker the command. He then wrote Hooker +this memorable letter:</p> +<p>"I have placed you at the head of the Army of the Potomac. Of +course I have done this upon what appears to me to be sufficient +reasons, and yet I think it best for you to know that there are +some things in regard to which I am not quite satisfied with you. I +believe you to be a brave and skillful soldier—which, of +course, I like. I also believe you do not mix politics with your +profession—in which you are right. You have +confidence—which is a valuable, if not an indispensable, +quality. You are ambitious, which, within reasonable bounds, does +good rather than harm; but I think that during General Burnside's +command of the army you have taken counsel of your ambition to +thwart him as much as you could—in which you did a great +wrong to the country and to a most meritorious and honorable +brother officer. I have heard, in such a way as to believe it, of +your recently saying that both the army and the Government needed a +dictator. Of course it was not for this, but in spite of it, that I +have given you command. Only those generals who gain successes can +set up dictators. What I now ask of you is military successes, and +I will risk the dictatorship. The Government will support you to +the utmost of its ability, which is neither more nor less than it +has done and will do for all commanders. I much fear that the +spirit which you have aided to infuse into the army, of criticising +their commander and withholding confidence in him, will now turn +upon you. I shall assist you, so far as I can, to put it down. +Neither you, nor Napoleon, if he were alive, can get any good out +of an army while such a spirit prevails in it. And now beware of +rashness. Beware of rashness, but with energy and sleepless +vigilance go forward and give us victories."</p> +<p>This letter has, in my judgment, no parallel. The mistaken +magnanimity is almost equal to the prophecy:</p> +<p>"I much fear that the spirit which you have aided to infuse into +the army, of criticising their command and withholding confidence +in him, will now turn upon you."</p> +<p>Chancellorsville was the fulfillment.</p> +<center>XII.</center> +<p>MR. LINCOLN was a statesman. The great stumbling-block—the +great obstruction—in Lincoln's way, and in the way of +thousands, was the old doctrine of States Rights.</p> +<p>This doctrine was first established to protect slavery. It was +clung to to protect the inter-State slave trade. It became sacred +in connection with the Fugitive Slave Law, and it was finally used +as the corner-stone of Secession.</p> +<p>This doctrine was never appealed to in defence of the +right—always in support of the wrong. For many years +politicians upon both sides of this question endeavored to express +the exact relations existing between the Federal Government and the +States, and I know of no one who succeeded, except Lincoln. In his +message of 1861, delivered on July the 4th, the definition is +given, and it is perfect:</p> +<p>"Whatever concerns the whole should be confided to the +whole—to the General Government. Whatever concerns only the +State should be left exclusively to the State."</p> +<p>When that definition is realized in practice, this country +becomes a Nation. Then we shall know that the first allegiance of +the citizen is not to his State, but to the Republic, and that the +first duty of the Republic is to protect the citizen, not only when +in other lands, but at home, and that this duty cannot be +discharged by delegating it to the States.</p> +<p>Lincoln believed in the sovereignty of the people—in the +supremacy of the Nation—in the territorial integrity of the +Republic.</p> +<center>XIII.</center> +<p>A GREAT actor can be known only when he has assumed the +principal character in a great drama. Possibly the greatest actors +have never appeared, and it may be that the greatest soldiers have +lived the lives of perfect peace. Lincoln assumed the leading part +in the greatest drama ever enacted upon the stage of this +continent.</p> +<p>His criticisms of military movements, his correspondence with +his generals and others on the conduct of the war, show that he was +at all times master of the situation—that he was a natural +strategist, that he appreciated the difficulties and advantages of +every kind, and that in "the still and mental" field of war he +stood the peer of any man beneath the flag.</p> +<p>Had McClellan followed his advice, he would have taken +Richmond.</p> +<p>Had Hooker acted in accordance with his suggestions, +Chancellorsville would have been a victory for the Nation.</p> +<p>Lincoln's political prophecies were all fulfilled.</p> +<p>We know now that he not only stood at the top, but that he +occupied the centre, from first to last, and that he did this by +reason of his intelligence, his humor, his philosophy, his courage +and his patriotism.</p> +<p>In passion's storm he stood, unmoved, patient, just and candid. +In his brain there was no cloud, and in his heart no hate. He +longed to save the South as well as North, to see the Nation one +and free.</p> +<p>He lived until the end was known.</p> +<p>He lived until the Confederacy was dead—until Lee +surrendered, until Davis fled, until the doors of Libby Prison were +opened, until the Republic was supreme.</p> +<p>He lived until Lincoln and Liberty were united forever.</p> +<p>He lived to cross the desert—to reach the palms of +victory—to hear the murmured music of the welcome waves.</p> +<p>He lived until all loyal hearts were his—until the history +of his deeds made music in the souls of men—until he knew +that on Columbia's Calendar of worth and fame his name stood +first.</p> +<p>He lived until there remained nothing for him to do as great as +he had done.</p> +<p>What he did was worth living for, worth dying for.</p> +<p>He lived until he stood in the midst of universal</p> +<p>Joy, beneath the outstretched wings of Peace—the foremost +man in all the world.</p> +<p>And then the horror came. Night fell on noon. The Savior of the +Republic, the breaker of chains, the liberator of millions, he who +had "assured freedom to the free," was dead.</p> +<p>Upon his brow Fame placed the immortal wreath, and for the first +time in the history of the world a Nation bowed and wept.</p> +<p>The memory of Lincoln is the strongest, tenderest tie that binds +all hearts together now, and holds all States beneath a Nation's +flag.</p> +<center>XIV.</center> +<p>ABRAHAM LINCOLN—strange mingling of mirth and tears, of +the tragic and grotesque, of cap and crown, of Socrates and +Democritus, of �?sop and Marcus Aurelius, of all that is +gentle and just, humorous and honest, merciful, wise, laughable, +lovable and divine, and all consecrated to the use of man; while +through all, and over all, were an overwhelming sense of +obligation, of chivalric loyalty to truth, and upon all, the shadow +of the tragic end.</p> +<p>Nearly all the great historic characters are impossible +monsters, disproportioned by flattery, or by calumny deformed. We +know nothing of their peculiarities, or nothing but their +peculiarities. About these oaks there clings none of the earth of +humanity.</p> +<p>Washington is now only a steel engraving. About the real man who +lived and loved and hated and schemed, we know but little. The +glass through which we look at him is of such high magnifying power +that the features are exceedingly indistinct.</p> +<p>Hundreds of people are now engaged in smoothing out the lines of +Lincoln's face—forcing all features to the common +mould—so that he may be known, not as he really was, but, +according to their poor standard, as he should have been.</p> +<p>Lincoln was not a type. He stands alone—no ancestors, no +fellows, and no successors.</p> +<p>He had the advantage of living in a new country, of social +equality, of personal freedom, of seeing in the horizon of his +future the perpetual star of hope. He preserved his individuality +and his self-respect. He knew and mingled with men of every kind; +and, after all, men are the best books. He became acquainted with +the ambitions and hopes of the heart, the means used to accomplish +ends, the springs of action and the seeds of thought. He was +familiar with nature, with actual things, with common facts. He +loved and appreciated the poem of the year, the drama of the +seasons.</p> +<p>In a new country a man must possess at least three +virtues—honesty, courage and generosity. In cultivated +society, cultivation is often more important than soil. A +well-executed counterfeit passes more readily than a blurred +genuine. It is necessary only to observe the unwritten laws of +society—to be honest enough to keep out of prison, and +generous enough to subscribe in public—where the subscription +can be defended as an investment.</p> +<p>In a new country, character is essential; in the old, reputation +is sufficient. In the new, they find what a man really is; in the +old, he generally passes for what he resembles. People separated +only by distance are much nearer together, than those divided by +the walls of caste.</p> +<p>It is no advantage to live in a great city, where poverty +degrades and failure brings despair. The fields are lovelier than +paved streets, and the great forests than walls of brick. Oaks and +elms are more poetic than steeples and chimneys.</p> +<p>In the country is the idea of home. There you see the rising and +setting sun; you become acquainted with the stars and clouds. The +constellations are your friends. You hear the rain on the roof and +listen to the rhythmic sighing of the winds. You are thrilled by +the resurrection called Spring, touched and saddened by +Autumn—the grace and poetry of death. Every field is a +picture, a landscape; every landscape a poem; every flower a tender +thought, and every forest a fairy-land. In the country you preserve +your identity—your personality. There you are an aggregation +of atoms, but in the city you are only an atom of an +aggregation.</p> +<p>In the country you keep your cheek close to the breast of +Nature. You are calmed and ennobled by the space, the amplitude and +scope of earth and sky—by the constancy of the stars.</p> +<p>Lincoln never finished his education. To the night of his death +he was a pupil, a learner, an inquirer, a seeker after knowledge. +You have no idea how many men are spoiled by what is called +education. For the most part, colleges are places where pebbles are +polished and diamonds are dimmed. If Shakespeare had graduated at +Oxford, he might have been a quibbling attorney, or a hypocritical +parson.</p> +<p>Lincoln was a great lawyer. There is nothing shrewder in this +world than intelligent honesty. Perfect candor is sword and +shield.</p> +<p>He understood the nature of man. As a lawyer he endeavored to +get at the truth, at the very heart of a case. He was not willing +even to deceive himself. No matter what his interest said, what his +passion demanded, he was great enough to find the truth and strong +enough to pronounce judgment against his own desires.</p> +<p>Lincoln was a many-sided man, acquainted with smiles and tears, +complex in brain, single in heart, direct as light; and his words, +candid as mirrors, gave the perfect image of his thought. He was +never afraid to ask—never too dignified to admit that he did +not know. No man had keener wit, or kinder humor.</p> +<p>It may be that humor is the pilot of reason. People without +humor drift unconsciously into absurdity. Humor sees the other +side—stands in the mind like a spectator, a good-natured +critic, and gives its opinion before judgment is reached. Humor +goes with good nature, and good nature is the climate of reason. In +anger, reason abdicates and malice extinguishes the torch. Such was +the humor of Lincoln that he could tell even unpleasant truths as +charmingly as most men can tell the things we wish to hear.</p> +<p>He was not solemn. Solemnity is a mask worn by ignorance and +hypocrisy—it is the preface, prologue, and index to the +cunning or the stupid.</p> +<p>He was natural in his life and thought—master of the +story-teller's art, in illustration apt, in application perfect, +liberal in speech, shocking Pharisees and prudes, using any word +that wit could disinfect.</p> +<p>He was a logician. His logic shed light. In its presence the +obscure became luminous, and the most complex and intricate +political and metaphysical knots seemed to untie themselves. Logic +is the necessary product of intelligence and sincerity. It cannot +be learned. It is the child of a clear head and a good heart.</p> +<p>Lincoln was candid, and with candor often deceived the +deceitful. He had intellect without arrogance, genius without +pride, and religion without cant—that is to say, without +bigotry and without deceit.</p> +<p>He was an orator—clear, sincere, natural. He did not +pretend. He did not say what he thought others thought, but what he +thought.</p> +<p>If you wish to be sublime you must be natural—you must +keep close to the grass. You must sit by the fireside of the heart; +above the clouds it is too cold. You must be simple in your speech; +too much polish suggests insincerity.</p> +<p>The great orator idealizes the real, transfigures the common, +makes even the inanimate throb and thrill, fills the gallery of the +imagination with statues and pictures perfect in form and color, +brings to light the gold hoarded by memory the miser, shows the +glittering coin to the spendthrift hope, enriches the brain, +ennobles the heart, and quickens the conscience. Between his lips +words bud and blossom.</p> +<p>If you wish to know the difference between an orator and an +elocutionist—between what is felt and what is +said—between what the heart and brain can do together and +what the brain can do alone—read Lincoln's wondrous speech at +Gettysburg, and then the oration of Edward Everett.</p> +<p>The speech of Lincoln will never be forgotten. It will live +until languages are dead and lips are dust. The oration of Everett +will never be read.</p> +<p>The elocutionists believe in the virtue of voice, the sublimity +of syntax, the majesty of long sentences, and the genius of +gesture.</p> +<p>The orator loves the real, the simple, the natural. He places +the thought above all. He knows that the greatest ideas should be +expressed in the shortest words—that the greatest statues +need the least drapery.</p> +<p>Lincoln was an immense personality—firm but not obstinate. +Obstinacy is egotism—firmness, heroism. He influenced others +without effort, unconsciously; and they submitted to him as men +submit to nature—unconsciously. He was severe with himself, +and for that reason lenient with others.</p> +<p>He appeared to apologize for being kinder than his fellows.</p> +<p>He did merciful things as stealthily as others committed +crimes.</p> +<p>Almost ashamed of tenderness, he said and did the noblest words +and deeds with that charming confusion, that awkwardness, that is +the perfect grace of modesty.</p> +<p>As a noble man, wishing to pay a small debt to a poor neighbor, +reluctantly offers a hundred-dollar bill and asks for change, +fearing that he may be suspected either of making a display of +wealth or a pretence of payment, so Lincoln hesitated to show his +wealth of goodness, even to the best he knew.</p> +<p>A great man stooping, not wishing to make his fellows feel that +they were small or mean.</p> +<p>By his candor, by his kindness, by his perfect freedom from +restraint, by saying what he thought, and saying it absolutely in +his own way, he made it not only possible, but popular, to be +natural. He was the enemy of mock solemnity, of the stupidly +respectable, of the cold and formal.</p> +<p>He wore no official robes either on his body or his soul. He +never pretended to be more or less, or other, or different, from +what he really was.</p> +<p>He had the unconscious naturalness of Nature's self.</p> +<p>He built upon the rock. The foundation was secure and broad. The +structure was a pyramid, narrowing as it rose. Through days and +nights of sorrow, through years of grief and pain, with unswerving +purpose, "with malice towards none, with charity for all," with +infinite patience, with unclouded vision, he hoped and toiled. +Stone after stone was laid, until at last the Proclamation found +its place. On that the Goddess stands.</p> +<p>He knew others, because perfectly acquainted with himself. He +cared nothing for place, but everything for principle; little for +money, but everything for independence. Where no principle was +involved, easily swayed—willing to go slowly, if in the right +direction—sometimes willing to stop; but he would not go +back, and he would not go wrong.</p> +<p>He was willing to wait. He knew that the event was not waiting, +and that fate was not the fool of chance. He knew that slavery had +defenders, but no defence, and that they who attack the right must +wound themselves.</p> +<p>He was neither tyrant nor slave. He neither knelt nor +scorned.</p> +<p>With him, men were neither great nor small—they were right +or wrong.</p> +<p>Through manners, clothes, titles, rags and race he saw the +real—that which is. Beyond accident, policy, compromise and +war he saw the end.</p> +<p>He was patient as Destiny, whose undecipherable hieroglyphs were +so deeply graven on his sad and tragic face.</p> +<p>Nothing discloses real character like the use of power. It is +easy for the weak to be gentle. Most people can bear adversity. But +if you wish to know what a man really is, give him power. This is +the supreme test. It is the glory of Lincoln that, having almost +absolute power, he never abused it, except on the side of +mercy.</p> +<p>Wealth could not purchase, power could not awe, this divine, +this loving man.</p> +<p>He knew no fear except the fear of doing wrong. Hating slavery, +pitying the master—seeking to conquer, not persons, but +prejudices—he was the embodiment of the self-denial, the +courage, the hope and the nobility of a Nation.</p> +<p>He spoke not to inflame, not to upbraid, but to convince.</p> +<p>He raised his hands, not to strike, but in benediction.</p> +<p>He longed to pardon.</p> +<p>He loved to see the pearls of joy on the cheeks of a wife whose +husband he had rescued from death.</p> +<p>Lincoln was the grandest figure of the fiercest civil war. He is +the gentlest memory of our world.</p> +<a name="link0004" id="link0004"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>VOLTAIRE.</h2> +<h3>I.</h3> +<p>THE infidels of one age have often been the aureoled saints of +the next.</p> +<p>The destroyers of the old are the creators of the new.</p> +<p>As time sweeps on the old passes away and the new in its turn +becomes old.</p> +<p>There is in the intellectual world, as in the physical, decay +and growth, and ever by the grave of buried age stand youth and +joy.</p> +<p>The history of intellectual progress is written in the lives of +infidels.</p> +<p>Political rights have been preserved by traitors, the liberty of +mind by heretics.</p> +<p>To attack the king was treason; to dispute the priest was +blasphemy.</p> +<p>For many centuries the sword and cross were allies. Together +they attacked the rights of man. They defended each other.</p> +<p>The throne and altar were twins—two vultures from the same +egg.</p> +<p>James I. said: "No bishop, no king." He might have added: "No +cross, no crown." The king owned the bodies of men; the priest, the +souls. One lived on taxes collected by force, the other on alms +collected by fear—both robbers, both beggars.</p> +<p>These robbers and these beggars controlled two worlds. The king +made laws, the priest made creeds. Both obtained their authority +from God, both were the agents of the Infinite.</p> +<p>With bowed backs the people carried the burdens of one, and with +wonder's open mouth received the dogmas of the other.</p> +<p>If the people aspired to be free, they were crushed by the king, +and every priest was a Herod who slaughtered the children of the +brain.</p> +<p>The king ruled by force, the priest by fear, and both by +both.</p> +<p>The king said to the people: "God made you peasants, and He made +me king; He made you to labor, and me to enjoy; He made rags and +hovels for you, robes and palaces for me. He made you to obey, and +me to command. Such is the justice of God."</p> +<p>And the priest said: "God made you ignorant and vile; He made me +holy and wise; you are the sheep, I am the shepherd; your fleeces +belong to me. If you do not obey me here, God will punish you now +and torment you forever in another world. Such is the mercy of +God."</p> +<p>"You must not reason. Reason is a rebel. You must not +contradict—contradiction is born of egotism; you must +believe. He that hath ears to hear let him hear." Heaven was a +question of ears.</p> +<p>Fortunately for us, there have been traitors and there have been +heretics, blasphemers, thinkers, investigators, lovers of liberty, +men of genius who have given their lives to better the condition of +their fellow-men.</p> +<p>It may be well enough here to ask the question: What is +greatness?</p> +<p>A great man adds to the sum of knowledge, extends the horizon of +thought, releases souls from the Bastile of fear, crosses unknown +and mysterious seas, gives new islands and new continents to the +domain of thought, new constellations to the firmament of mind. A +great man does not seek applause or place; he seeks for truth; he +seeks the road to happiness, and what he ascertains he gives to +others.</p> +<p>A great man throws pearls before swine, and the swine are +sometimes changed to men. If the great had always kept their +pearls, vast multitudes would be barbarians now.</p> +<p>A great man is a torch in the darkness, a beacon in +superstition's night, an inspiration and a prophecy.</p> +<p>Greatness is not the gift of majorities; it cannot be thrust +upon any man; men cannot give it to another; they can give place +and power, but not greatness.</p> +<p>The place does not make the man, nor the sceptre the king. +Greatness is from within.</p> +<p>The great men are the heroes who have freed the bodies of men; +they are the philosophers and thinkers who have given liberty to +the soul; they are the poets who have transfigured the common and +filled the lives of many millions with love and song.</p> +<p>They are the artists who have covered the bare walls of weary +life with the triumphs of genius.</p> +<p>They are the heroes who have slain the monsters of ignorance and +fear, who have outgazed the Gorgon and driven the cruel gods from +their thrones.</p> +<p>They are the inventors, the discoverers, the great mechanics, +the kings of the useful who have civilized this world.</p> +<p>At the head of this heroic army, foremost of all, stands +Voltaire, whose memory we are honoring tonight.</p> +<p>Voltaire! a name that excites the admiration of men, the +malignity of priests. Pronounce that name in the presence of a +clergyman, and you will find that you have made a declaration of +war. Pronounce that name, and from the face of the priest the mask +of meekness will fall, and from the mouth of forgiveness will pour +a Niagara of vituperation and calumny. And yet Voltaire was the +greatest man of his century, and did more to free the human race +than any other of the sons of men.</p> +<p>On Sunday, the 21st of November, 1694, a babe was born—a +babe so exceedingly frail that the breath hesitated about +remaining, and the parents had him baptized as soon as possible. +They were anxious to save the soul of this babe, and they knew that +if death came before baptism the child would be doomed to an +eternity of pain. They knew that God despised an unsprinkled child. +The priest who, with a few drops of water, gave the name of +Francois-Marie Arouet to this babe and saved his soul—little +thought that before him, wrapped in many folds, weakly wailing, +scarcely breathing, was the one destined to tear from the white +throat of Liberty the cruel, murderous claws of the "Triumphant +Beast."</p> +<p>When Voltaire came to this "great stage of fools," his country +had been Christianized—not civilized—for about fourteen +hundred years. For a thousand years the religion of peace and +good-will had been supreme. The laws had been given by Christian +kings, and sanctioned by "wise and holy men." Under the benign +reign of universal love, every court had its chamber of torture, +and every priest relied on the thumb-screw and rack.</p> +<p>Such had been the success of the blessed gospel that every +science was an outcast.</p> +<p>To speak your honest thoughts, to teach your fellow-men, to +investigate for yourself, to seek the truth, these were all crimes, +and the "holy-mother church" pursued the criminals with sword and +flame.</p> +<p>The believers in a God of love—an infinite +father—punished hundreds of offences with torture and death. +Suspected persons were tortured to make them confess. Convicted +persons were tortured to make them give the names of their +accomplices. Under the leadership of the church, cruelty had become +the only reforming power.</p> +<p>In this blessed year, 1694, all authors were at the mercy of +king and priest. The most of them were cast into prisons, +impoverished by fines and costs, exiled or executed.</p> +<p>The little time that hangmen could snatch from professional +duties was occupied in burning books.</p> +<p>The courts of justice were traps, in which the innocent were +caught. The judges were almost as malicious and cruel as though +they had been bishops or saints. There was no trial by jury, and +the rules of evidence allowed the conviction of the supposed +criminal by the proof of suspicion or hearsay.</p> +<p>The witnesses, being liable to be tortured, generally told what +the judges wished to hear.</p> +<p>The supernatural and the miraculous controlled the world. +Everything was explained, but nothing was understood. The church +was at the head. The sick bought from monks little amulets of +consecrated paper. They did not send for a doctor, but for a +priest, and the priest sold the diseased and the dying these +magical amulets. These little pieces of paper with the help of some +saint would cure diseases of every kind. If you would put one in a +cradle, it would keep the child from being bewitched. If you would +put one in the barn, the rats would not eat your corn. If you would +keep one in the house, evil spirits would not enter your doors, and +if you buried them in the fields, you would have good weather, the +frost would be delayed, rain would come when needed, and abundant +crops would bless your labor. The church insisted that all diseases +could be cured in the name of God, and that these cures could be +effected by prayers, exorcism, by touching bones of saints, pieces +of the true cross; by being sprinkled with holy water or with +sanctified salt, or touched with magical oil.</p> +<p>In that day the dead saints were the best physicians; St. +Valentine cured the epilepsy; St. Gervasius was exceedingly good +for rheumatism; St. Michael for cancer; St. Judas for coughs and +colds; St. Ovidius restored the hearing; St. Sebastian was good for +the bites of snakes and the stings of poisonous insects; St. +Apollonia for toothache; St. Clara for any trouble with the eyes; +and St. Hubert for hydrophobia. It was known that doctors reduced +the revenues of the church; that was enough—science was the +enemy of religion.</p> +<p>The church thought that the air was filled with devils; that +every sinner was a kind of tenement house inhabited by evil +spirits; that angels were on one side of men and evil spirits on +the other, and that God would, when the subscriptions and donations +justified the effort, drive the evil spirits from the field.</p> +<p>Satan had power over the air; consequently he controlled the +frost, the mildew, the lightning and the flood; and the principal +business of the church was with bells, and holy water, and incense, +and crosses, to defeat the machinations of that prince of the power +of the air.</p> +<p>Great reliance was placed upon the bells; they were sprinkled +with holy water, and their clangor cleared the air of imps and +fiends. And bells also protected the people from storms and +lightning. In that day the church used to anathematize insects. +Suits were commenced against rats, and judgment rendered. Every +monastery had its master magician, who sold incense and salt and +tapers and consecrated palms and relics. Every science was regarded +as an enemy; every fact held the creed of the church in scorn. +Investigators were regarded as dangerous; thinkers were traitors, +and the church exerted its vast power to prevent the intellectual +progress of man.</p> +<p>There was no real liberty, no real education, no real +philosophy, no real science—-nothing but credulity and +superstition. The world was under the control of Satan and the +church.</p> +<p>The church firmly believed in the existence of witches and +devils and fiends. In this way the church had every enemy within +her power. It simply had to charge him with being a wizard, of +holding communications with devils, and the ignorant mob were ready +to tear him to pieces. So prevalent was this belief, this belief in +the supernatural, that the poor people were finally driven to make +the best possible terms they could with the spirit of evil. This +frightful doctrine filled every friend with suspicion of his +friend; it made the husband denounce the wife, children their +parents, parents their children. It destroyed the amenities of +humanity; it did away with justice in courts; it broke the bond of +friendship; it filled with poison the golden cup of life; it turned +earth into a very perdition peopled with abominable, malicious and +hideous fiends. Such was the result of a belief in the +supernatural; such was the result of giving up the evidence of +their own senses and relying upon dreams, visions and fears. Such +was the result of the attack upon the human reason; such the result +of depending on the imagination, on the supernatural; such the +result of living in this world for another; of depending upon +priests instead of upon ourselves. The Protestants vied with +Catholics; Luther stood side by side with the priests he had +deserted in promoting this belief in devils and fiends. To the +Catholic every Protestant was possessed by a devil; to the +Protestant every Catholic was the home of a fiend. All order, all +regular succession of causes and effects were known no more; the +natural ceased to exist; the learned and the ignorant were on a +level. The priest was caught in the net he had spread for the +peasant, and Christendom became a vast madhouse, with the insane +for keepers.</p> +<p>When Voltaire was born the church ruled and owned France. It was +a period of almost universal corruption. The priests were mostly +libertines, the judges cruel and venal. The royal palace was a +house of prostitution. The nobles were heartless, proud, arrogant +and cruel to the last degree. The common people were treated as +beasts. It took the church a thousand years to bring about this +happy condition of things.</p> +<p>The seeds of the Revolution unconsciously were being scattered +by every noble and by every priest.</p> +<p>They were germinating slowly in the hearts of the wretched; they +were being watered by the tears of agony; blows began to bear +interest. There was a faint longing for blood. Workmen, blackened +by the sun, bowed by labor, deformed by want, looked at the white +throats of scornful ladies and thought about cutting them.</p> +<p>In those days witnesses were cross-examined with instruments of +torture; the church was the arsenal of superstition; miracles, +relics, angels and devils were as common as lies.</p> +<p>In order to appreciate a great man we must know his +surroundings. We must understand the scope of the drama in which he +played—the part he acted, and we must also know his +audience.</p> +<p>In England George I. was disporting with the "May-pole" and +"Elephant," and then George II., jealous and choleric, hating the +English and their language, making, however, an excellent image or +idol before whom the English were glad to bow—snobbery +triumphant—the criminal code getting bloodier every +day—223 offences punishable with death—the prisons +filled and the scaffolds crowded—efforts on every hand to +repress the ambition of men to be men—the church relying on +superstition and ceremony to make men good—and the state +dependent on the whip, the rope and axe to make men patriotic.</p> +<p>In Spain the Inquisition in full control—all the +instruments of torture used to prevent the development of the mind, +Spain, that had driven out the Jews, that is to say, her talent; +that had driven out the Moors, that is to say, her taste and her +industry, was still endeavoring by all religious means to reduce +the land to the imbecility of the true faith.</p> +<p>In Portugal they were burning women and children for having +eaten meat on a holy day, and this to please the most merciful +God.</p> +<p>In Italy the nation prostrate, covered with swarms of cardinals +and bishops and priests and monks and nuns and every representative +of holy sloth. The Inquisition there also—while hands that +were clasped in prayer or stretched for alms, grasped with +eagerness and joy the lever of the rack, or gathered fagots for the +holy flame.</p> +<p>In Germany they were burning men and women charged with having +made a compact with the enemy of man.</p> +<p>And in our own fair land, persecuting Quakers, stealing men and +women from another shore, stealing children from their mother's +breasts, and paying labor with the cruel lash.</p> +<p>Superstition ruled the world!</p> +<p>There is but one use for law, but one excuse for +government—the preservation of liberty—to give to each +man his own, to secure to the farmer what he produces from the +soil, the mechanic what he invents and makes, to the artist what he +creates, to the thinker the right to express his thoughts. Liberty +is the breath of progress.</p> +<p>In France, the people were the sport of a king's caprice. +Everywhere was the shadow of the Bastile.</p> +<p>It fell upon the sunniest field, upon the happiest home. With +the king walked the headsman; back of the throne was the chamber of +torture. The Church appealed to the rack, and Faith relied on the +fagot. Science was an outcast, and Philosophy, so-called, was the +pander of superstition.</p> +<p>Nobles and priests were sacred. Peasants were vermin. Idleness +sat at the banquet, and Industry gathered the crumbs and the +crusts.</p> +<center>II. THE DAYS OF YOUTH.</center> +<p>VOLTAIRE was of the people. In the language of that day, he had +no ancestors. His real name was Francois-Marie Arouet. His mother +was Marguerite d'Aumard. This mother died when he was seven years +of age. He had an elder brother, Armand, who was a devotee, very +religious and exceedingly disagreeable. This brother used to +present offerings to the church, hoping to make amends for the +unbelief of his brother. So far as we know, none of his ancestors +were literary people.</p> +<p>The Arouets had never written a line. The Abbe de Chaulieu was +his godfather, and, although an abbe, was a Deist who cared nothing +about religion except in connection with his salary. Voltaire's +father wanted to make a lawyer of him, but he had no taste for law. +At the age of ten he entered the college of Louis Le Grand. This +was a Jesuit school, and here he remained for seven years, leaving +at seventeen, and never attending any other school. According to +Voltaire, he learned nothing at this school but a little Greek, a +good deal of Latin and a vast amount of nonsense.</p> +<p>In this college of Louis Le Grand they did not teach geography, +history, mathematics or any science. This was a Catholic +institution, controlled by the Jesuits. In that day the religion +was defended, was protected or supported by the state. Behind the +entire creed were the bayonet, the axe, the wheel, the fagot and +the torture chamber.</p> +<p>While Voltaire was attending the college of Louis Le Grand the +soldiers of the king were hunting Protestants in the mountains of +Cevennes for magistrates to hang on gibbets, to put to torture, to +break on the wheel, or to burn at the stake.</p> +<p>At seventeen Voltaire determined to devote his life to +literature. The father said, speaking of his two sons Armand and +Francois, "I have a pair of fools for sons, one in verse and the +other in prose."</p> +<p>In 1713, Voltaire, in a small way, became a diplomat. He went to +The Hague attached to the French minister, and there he fell in +love. The girl's mother objected. Voltaire sent his clothes to the +young lady that she might visit him. Everything was discovered and +he was dismissed. To this girl he wrote a letter, and in it you +will find the key note of Voltaire: "Do not expose yourself to the +fury of your mother. You know what she is capable of. You have +experienced it too well. Dissemble; it is your only chance. Tell +her that you have forgotten me, that you hate me; then after +telling her, love me all the more."</p> +<p>On account of this episode Voltaire was formally disinherited by +his father. The father procured an order of arrest and gave his son +the choice of going to prison or beyond the seas. He finally +consented to become a lawyer, and says: "I have already been a week +at work in the office of a solicitor learning the trade of a +pettifogger."</p> +<p>About this time he competed for a prize, writing a poem on the +king's generosity in building the new choir in the Cathedral Notre +Dame. He did not win it. After being with the solicitor a little +while, he hated the law, began to write poetry and the outlines of +tragedy. Great questions were then agitating the public mind, +questions that throw a flood of light upon that epoch.</p> +<p>In 1552 Dr. Baius took it into his head to sustain a number of +propositions touching predestination to the prejudice of the +doctrine of free will. The Cordelian monks selected seventy-six of +the propositions and denounced them to the Pope as heretical, and +from the Pope obtained what was called a Bull. This Bull contained +a doubtful passage, the meaning of which was dependent upon the +position of a comma. The friends of Dr. Baius wrote to Rome to find +where the comma ought to be placed. Rome, busy with other matter, +sent as an answer a copy of the Bull in which the doubtful sentence +was left without any comma. So the dispute continued.</p> +<p>Then there was the great controversy between the Jansenists and +Molinists. Molini was a Spanish Jesuit, who sustained the doctrine +of free will with a subtlety of his own, "man's will is free, but +God sees exactly how he will use it." The Presbyterians of our +country are still wrestling with this important absurdity.</p> +<p>Jansenius was a French Jesuit who carried the doctrine of +predestination to the extreme, asserting that God commands things +that are impossible, and that Christ did not die for all.</p> +<p>In 1641 the Jesuits obtained a Bull condemning five propositions +of Jansenius. The Jansenists there upon denied that the five +propositions—or any of them—were found in the works of +Jansenius.</p> +<p>This question of Jansenism and Molinism occupied France for +about two hundred years.</p> +<p>In Voltaire's time the question had finally dwindled down to +whether the five propositions condemned by the Papal Bull were in +fact in the works of Jansenius. The Jansenists proved that the five +propositions were not in his book, because a niece of Pascal had a +diseased eye cured by the application of a thorn from the crown of +Christ.</p> +<p>The Bull Unigenitus was launched in 1713, and then all the +prisons were filled with Jansenists. This great question of +predestination and free will, of free moral agency and +accountability, and being saved by the grace of God, and damned for +the glory of God, have occupied the mind of what we call the +civilized world for many centuries. All these questions were argued +pro and con through Switzerland; all of them in Holland for +centuries; in Scotland and England and New England, and millions of +people are still busy harmonizing foreordination and free will, +necessity and morality, predestination and accountability.</p> +<p>Louis XIV. having died, the Regent took possession, and then the +prisons were opened. The Regent called for a list of all persons +then in the prisons sent there at the will of the king. He found +that, as to many prisoners, nobody knew any cause why they had been +in prison. They had been forgotten. Many of the prisoners did not +know themselves, and could not guess why they had been arrested. +One Italian had been in the Bastile thirty-three years without ever +knowing why. On his arrival in Paris, thirty-three years before, he +was arrested and sent to prison. He had grown old. He had survived +his family and friends. When the rest were liberated he asked to +remain where he was, and lived there the rest of his life. The old +prisoners were pardoned, but in a little while their places were +taken by new ones.</p> +<p>At this time Voltaire was not interested in the great +world—knew very little of religion or of government. He was +busy writing poetry, busy thinking of comedies and tragedies. He +was full of life. All his fancies were winged like moths.</p> +<p>He was charged with having written some cutting epigrams. He was +exiled to Tulle, three hundred miles away. From this place he wrote +in the true vein—"I am at a chateau, a place that would be +the most agreeable in the world if I had not been exiled to it, and +where there is nothing wanting for my perfect happiness except the +liberty of leaving. It would be delicious to remain, if I only were +allowed to go."</p> +<p>At last the exile was allowed to return. Again he was arrested; +this time sent to the Bastile, where he remained for nearly a year. +While in prison he changed his name from Francois-Marie Arouet to +Voltaire, and by that name he has since been known.</p> +<p>Voltaire, as full of life as summer is full of blossoms, giving +his ideas upon all subjects at the expense of prince and king, was +exiled to England. From sunny France he took his way to the mists +and fogs of Albion. He became acquainted with the highest and the +best in Britain. He met Pope, a most wonderful verbal mechanic, a +maker of artificial flowers, very much like natural ones, except +that they lack perfume and the seeds of suggestion. He made the +acquaintance of Young, who wrote the "Night Thoughts;" Young, a +fine old hypocrite with a virtuous imagination, a gentleman who +electioneered with the king's mistress that he might be made a +bishop. He became acquainted with Chesterfield—all manners, +no man; with Thomson, author of "The Seasons," who loved to see the +sun rise in bed and visit the country in town; with Swift, whose +poisoned arrows were then festering in the flesh of Mr. +Bull—Swift, as wicked as he was witty, and as heartless as he +was humorous—with Swift, a dean and a devil; with Congreve, +whom Addison thought superior to Shakespeare, and who never wrote +but one great line, "The cathedral looking tranquillity."</p> +<center>III. THE MORN OF MANHOOD.</center> +<p>VOLTAIRE began to think, to doubt, to inquire. He studied the +history of the church, of the creed. He found that the religion of +his time rested on the inspiration of the Scriptures—the +infallibility of the church—the dreams of insane +hermits—the absurdities of the Fathers—the mistakes and +falsehoods of saints—the hysteria of nuns—the cunning +of priests and the stupidity of the people. He found that the +Emperor Constantine, who lifted Christianity into power, murdered +his wife Fausta and his eldest son Crispus, the same year that he +convened the Council of Nice, to decide whether Christ was a man or +the Son of God. The Council decided, in the year 325, that Christ +was consubstantial with the Father. He found that the church was +indebted to a husband who assassinated his wife—a father who +murdered his son, for settling the vexed question of the divinity +of the Savior. He found that Theodosius called a council at +Constantinople in 381, by which it was decided that the Holy Ghost +proceeded from the Father—that Theodosius, the younger, +assembled a council at Ephesus in 431, that declared the Virgin +Mary to be the mother of God—that the Emperor Marcian called +another council at Chalcedon in 451, that decided that Christ had +two wills—that Pognatius called another in 680, that declared +that Christ had two natures to go with his two wills—and that +in 1274, at the council of Lyons, the important fact was found that +the Holy Ghost "proceeded," not only from the Father, but also from +the Son at the same time.</p> +<p>So, it took about 1,300 years to find out a few things that had +been revealed by an infinite God to his infallible church.</p> +<p>Voltaire found that this insane creed had filled the world with +cruelty and fear. He found that vestments were more sacred than +virtues—that images and crosses—pieces of old bones and +bits of wood were more precious than the rights and lives of men, +and that the keepers of these relics were the enemies of the human +race.</p> +<p>With all the energy of his nature—with every faculty of +his mind—he attacked this "Triumphant Beast."</p> +<p>Voltaire was the apostle of common sense. He knew that there +could have been no primitive or first language from which all other +languages had been formed. He knew that every language had been +influenced by the surroundings of the people. He knew that the +language of snow and ice was not the language of palm and flower. +He knew also that there had been no miracle in language. He knew +that it was impossible that the story of the Tower of Babel should +be true. He knew that everything in the whole world had been +natural. He was the enemy of alchemy, not only in language but in +science. One passage from him is enough to show his philosophy in +this regard. He says; "To transmute iron into gold, two things are +necessary: first, the annihilation of the iron; second, the +creation of gold."</p> +<p>Voltaire gave us the philosophy of history.</p> +<p>Voltaire was a man of humor, of good nature, of cheerfulness. He +despised with all his heart the philosophy of Calvin, the creed of +the sombre, of the severe, of the unnatural. He pitied those who +needed the aid of religion to be honest, to be cheerful. He had the +courage to enjoy the present and the philosophy to bear what the +future might bring.</p> +<p>And yet for more than a hundred and fifty years the Christian +world has fought this man and has maligned his memory. In every +Christian pulpit his name has been pronounced with scorn, and every +pulpit has been an arsenal of slander. He is one man of whom no +orthodox minister has ever told the truth. He has been denounced +equally by Catholics and Protestants.</p> +<p>Priests and ministers, bishops and exhorters, presiding elders +and popes have filled the world with slanders, with calumnies about +Voltaire. I am amazed that ministers will not or cannot tell the +truth about an enemy of the church. As a matter of fact, for more +than one thousand years, almost every pulpit has been a mint in +which slanders have been coined.</p> +<p>Voltaire made up his mind to destroy the superstition of his +time.</p> +<p>He fought with every weapon that genius could devise or use. He +was the greatest of all caricaturists, and he used this wonderful +gift without mercy. For pure crystallized wit, he had no equal. The +art of flattery was carried by him to the height of an exact +science. He knew and practiced every subterfuge. He fought the army +of hypocrisy and pretence, the army of faith and falsehood.</p> +<p>Voltaire was annoyed by the meaner and baser spirits of his +time, by the cringers and crawlers, by the fawners and pretenders, +by those who wished to gain the favor of priests, the patronage of +nobles. Sometimes he allowed himself to be annoyed by these +wretches; sometimes he attacked them. And, but for these attacks, +long ago they would have been forgotten. In the amber of his genius +Voltaire preserved these insects, these tarantulas, these +scorpions.</p> +<p>It is fashionable to say that he was not profound. This is +because he was not stupid. In the presence of absurdity he laughed, +and was called irreverent. He thought God would not damn even a +priest forever—this was regarded as blasphemy. He endeavored +to prevent Christians from murdering each other, and did what he +could to civilize the disciples of Christ. Had he founded a sect, +obtained control of some country, and burned a few heretics at slow +fires, he would have won the admiration, respect and love of the +Christian world. Had he only pretended to believe all the fables of +antiquity, had he mumbled Latin prayers, counted beads, crossed +himself, devoured now and then the flesh of God, and carried fagots +to the feet of Philosophy in the name of Christ, he might have been +in heaven this moment, enjoying a sight of the damned.</p> +<p>If he had only adopted the creed of his time—if he had +asserted that a God of infinite power and mercy had created +millions and billions of human beings to suffer eternal pain, and +all for the sake of his glorious justice—that he had given +his power of attorney to a cunning and cruel Italian Pope, +authorizing him to save the soul of his mistress and send honest +wives to hell—if he had given to the nostril's of this God +the odor of burning flesh—the incense of the fagot—if +he had filled his ears with the shrieks of the tortured—the +music of the rack, he would now be known as Saint Voltaire.</p> +<p>For many years this restless man filled Europe with the product +of his brain. Essays, epigrams, epics, comedies, tragedies, +histories, poems, novels, representing every phase and every +faculty of the human mind. At the same time engrossed in business, +full of speculation, making money like a millionaire, busy with the +gossip of courts, and even with the scandals of priests. At the +same time alive to all the discoveries of science and the theories +of philosophers, and in this Babel never forgetting for one moment +to assail the monster of superstition.</p> +<p>Sleeping and waking he hated the church. With the eyes of Argus +he watched, and with the arms of Briareus he struck. For sixty +years he waged continuous and unrelenting war, sometimes in the +open field, sometimes striking from the hedges of +opportunity—taking care during all this time to remain +independent of all men. He was in the highest sense successful. He +lived like a prince, became one of the powers of Europe, and in +him, for the first time, literature was crowned.</p> +<p>It has been claimed by the Christian critics that Voltaire was +irreverent; that he examined sacred things without solemnity; that +he refused to remove his shoes in the presence of the Burning Bush; +that he smiled at the geology of Moses, the astronomical ideas of +Joshua, and that the biography of Jonah filled him with laughter. +They say that these stories, these sacred impossibilities, these +inspired falsehoods, should be read and studied with a believing +mind in humbleness of spirit; that they should be examined +prayerfully, asking God at the same time to give us strength to +triumph over the conclusions of our reason. These critics imagine +that a falsehood can be old enough to be venerable, and that to +stand covered in its presence is the act of an irreverent scoffer. +Voltaire approached the mythology of the Jews precisely as he did +the mythology of the Greeks and Romans, or the mythology of the +Chinese or the Iroquois Indians. There is nothing in this world too +sacred to be investigated, to be understood. The philosopher does +not hide. Secrecy is not the friend of truth. No man should be +reverent at the expense of his reason. Nothing should be worshiped +until the reason has been convinced that it is worthy of +worship.</p> +<p>Against all miracles, against all holy superstition, against +sacred mistakes, he shot the arrows of ridicule.</p> +<p>These arrows, winged by fancy, sharpened by wit, poisoned by +truth, always reached the centre.</p> +<p>It is claimed by many that anything, the best and holiest, can +be ridiculed. As a matter of fact, he who attempts to ridicule the +truth, ridicules himself. He becomes the food of his own +laughter.</p> +<p>The mind of man is many-sided. Truth must be and is willing to +be tested in every way, tested by all the senses.</p> +<p>But in what way can the absurdity of the "real presence" be +answered, except by banter, by raillery, by ridicule, by +persiflage? How are you going to convince a man who believes that +when he swallows the sacred wafer he has eaten the entire Trinity, +and that a priest drinking a drop of wine has devoured the +Infinite? How are you to reason with a man who believes that if any +of the sacred wafers are left over they should be put in a secure +place, so that mice should not eat God?</p> +<p>What effect will logic have upon a religious gentleman who +firmly believes that a God of infinite compassion sent two bears to +tear thirty or forty children in pieces for laughing at a +bald-headed prophet?</p> +<p>How are such people to be answered? How can they be brought to a +sense of their absurdity? They must feel in their flesh the arrows +of ridicule..</p> +<p>So Voltaire has been called a mocker.</p> +<p>What did he mock? He mocked kings that were unjust; kings who +cared nothing for the sufferings of their subjects. He mocked the +titled fools of his day. He mocked the corruption of courts; the +meanness, the tyranny and the brutality of judges. He mocked the +absurd and cruel laws, the barbarous customs. He mocked popes and +cardinals and bishops and priests, and all the hypocrites on the +earth. He mocked historians who filled their books with lies, and +philosophers who defended superstition. He mocked the haters of +liberty, the persecutors of their fellow-men. He mocked the +arrogance, the cruelty, the impudence, and the unspeakable baseness +of his time.</p> +<p>He has been blamed because he used the weapon of ridicule.</p> +<p>Hypocrisy has always hated laughter, and always will. Absurdity +detests humor, and stupidity despises wit. Voltaire was the master +of ridicule. He ridiculed the absurd, the impossible. He ridiculed +the mythologies and the miracles, the stupid lives and lies of the +saints. He found pretence and mendacity crowned by credulity. He +found the ignorant many controlled by the cunning and cruel few. He +found the historian, saturated with superstition, filling his +volumes with the details of the impossible, and he found the +scientists satisfied with "they say."</p> +<p>Voltaire had the instinct of the probable. He knew the law of +average, the sea level; he had the idea of proportion, and so he +ridiculed the mental monstrosities and deformities—the <i>non +sequiturs</i>—of his day. Aristotle said women had more teeth +than men. This was repeated again and again by the Catholic +scientists of the eighteenth century.</p> +<p>Voltaire counted the teeth. The rest were satisfied with "they +say."</p> +<p>Voltaire for many years, in spite of his surroundings, in spite +of almost universal tyranny and oppression, was a believer in God +and what he was pleased to call the religion of Nature. He attacked +the creed of his time because it was dishonorable to his God. He +thought of the Deity as a father, as the fountain of justice, +intelligence and mercy, and the creed of the Catholic Church made +him a monster of cruelty and stupidity. He attacked the Bible with +all the weapons at his command. He assailed its geology, its +astronomy, its ideas of justice, its laws and customs, its absurd +and useless miracles, its foolish wonders, its ignorance on all +subjects, its insane prophecies, its cruel threats and its +extravagant promises.</p> +<p>At the same time he praised the God of nature, the God who gives +us rain and light and food and flowers and health and +happiness—who fills the world with youth and beauty.</p> +<p>Attacked on every side, he fought with every weapon that wit, +logic, reason, scorn, contempt, laughter, pathos and indignation +could sharpen, form, devise or use. He often apologized, and the +apology was an insult. He often recanted, and the recantation was a +thousand times worse than the thing recanted. He took it back by +giving more. In the name of eulogy he flayed his victim. In his +praise there was poison. He often advanced by retreating, and +asserted by retraction.</p> +<p>He did not intend to give priests the satisfaction of seeing him +burn or suffer. Upon this very point of recanting he wrote:</p> +<p>"They say I must retract. Very willingly. I will declare that +Pascal is always right. That if St. Luke and St. Mark contradict +one another, it is only another proof of the truth of religion to +those who know how to understand such things; and that another +lovely proof of religion is that it is unintelligible. I will even +avow that all priests are gentle and disinterested; that Jesuits +are honest people; that monks are neither proud nor given to +intrigue, and that their odor is agreeable; that the Holy +Inquisition is the triumph of humanity and tolerance. In a word, I +will say all that may be desired of me, provided they leave me in +repose, and will not persecute a man who has done harm to +none."</p> +<p>He gave the best years of his wondrous life to succor the +oppressed, to shield the defenceless, to reverse infamous decrees, +to rescue the innocent, to reform the laws of France, to do away +with torture, to soften the hearts of priests, to enlighten judges, +to instruct kings, to civilize the people, and to banish from the +heart of man the love and lust of war.</p> +<p>You may think that I have said too much; that I have placed this +man too high. Let me tell you what Goethe, the great German, said +of this man:</p> +<p>"If you wish depth, genius, imagination, taste, reason, +sensibility, philosophy, elevation, originality, nature, intellect, +fancy, rectitude, facility, flexibility, precision, art, abundance, +variety, fertility, warmth, magic, charm, grace, force, an eagle +sweep of vision, vast understanding, instruction rich, tone +excellent, urbanity, suavity, delicacy, correctness, purity, +clearness, eloquence, harmony, brilliancy, rapidity, gaiety, +pathos, sublimity and universality, perfection indeed, behold +Voltaire."</p> +<p>Even Carlyle, that old Scotch terrier, with the growl of a +grizzly bear, who attacked shams, as I have sometimes thought, +because he hated rivals, was forced to admit that Voltaire gave the +death stab to modern superstition.</p> +<p>It is the duty of every man to destroy the superstitions of his +time, and yet there are thousands of men and women, fathers and +mothers, who repudiate with their whole hearts the creeds of +superstition, and still allow their children to be taught these +lies. They allow their imaginations to be poisoned with the dogma +of eternal pain. They allow arrogant and ignorant parsons, meek and +foolish teachers, to sow the seeds of barbarism in the minds of +their children—seeds that will fill their lives with fear and +pain. Nothing can be more important to a human being than to be +free and to live without fear.</p> +<p>It is far better to be a mortal free man than an immortal +slave.</p> +<p>Fathers and mothers should do their utmost to make their +children free. They should teach them to doubt, to investigate, to +inquire, and every father and mother should know that by the cradle +of every child, as by the cradle of the infant Hercules, crawls the +serpent of superstition.</p> +<center>IV. THE SCHEME OF NATURE.</center> +<p>AT that time it was pretended by the believers in God that the +plan, or the scheme of nature, was not cruel; that the lower was +sacrificed for the benefit of the higher; that while life lived +upon life, while animals lived upon each other, and while man was +the king or sovereign of all, still the higher lived upon the +lower. Consequently, a lower life was sacrificed that a higher life +might exist. This reasoning satisfied many. Yet there were +thousands that could not see why the lower should be sacrificed, or +why all joy should be born of pain. But, since the construction of +the microscope, since man has been allowed to look toward the +infinitely small, as well as toward the infinitely great, he finds +that our fathers were mistaken when they laid down the proposition +that only the lower life was sacrificed for the sake of the +higher.</p> +<p>Now we find that the lives of all visible animals are liable to +be, and in countless cases are, destroyed by a far lower life; that +man himself is destroyed by the microbes, the bacilli, the +infinitesimal. We find that for the sake of preserving the yellow +fever germs millions and millions have died, and that whole nations +have been decimated for the sake of the little beast that gives us +the cholera. We have also found that there are animals, call them +what you please, that live on the substance of the human heart, +others that prefer the lungs, others again so delicate in their +palate that they insist on devouring the optic nerve, and when they +have destroyed the sight of one eye have sense enough to bore +through the cartilage of the nose to attack the other. Thus we find +the other side of this proposition. At first sight the lower seemed +to be sacrificed for the sake of the higher, but on closer +inspection the highest are sacrificed for the sake of the +lowest.</p> +<p>Voltaire was, for a long time, a believer in the optimism of +Pope—"All partial evil, universal good." This is a very fine +philosophy for the fortunate. It suits the rich. It is flattering +to kings and priests. It sounds well. It is a fine stone to throw +at a beggar. It enables you to bear with great fortitude the +misfortunes of others.</p> +<p>It is not the philosophy for those who suffer—for industry +clothed in rags, for patriotism in prison, for honesty in want, or +for virtuous outcasts. It is a philosophy of a class, of a few, and +of the few who are fortunate; and, when misfortune overtakes them, +this philosophy fades and withers.</p> +<p>In 1755 came the earthquake at Lisbon. This frightful disaster +became an immense interrogation. The optimist was compelled to ask, +"What was my God doing? Why did the Universal Father crush to +shapelessness thousands of his poor children, even at the moment +when they were upon their knees returning thanks to him?"</p> +<p>What could be done with this horror? If earthquake there must +be, why did it not occur in some uninhabited desert, on some wide +waste of sea? This frightful fact changed the theology of Voltaire. +He became convinced that this is not the best possible of all +worlds. He became convinced that evil is evil here, now, and +forever.</p> +<p>The Theist was silent. The earthquake denied the existence of +God.</p> +<center>V. HIS HUMANITY.</center> +<p>TOULOUSE was a favored town. It was rich in relics. The people +were as ignorant as wooden images, but they had in their possession +the dried bodies of seven apostles—the bones of many of the +infants slain by Herod—part of a dress of the Virgin Mary, +and lots of skulls and skeletons of the infallible idiots known as +saints.</p> +<p>In this city the people celebrated every year with great joy two +holy events: The expulsion of the Huguenots, and the blessed +massacre of St. Bartholomew. The citizens of Toulouse had been +educated and civilized by the church.</p> +<p>A few Protestants, mild because in the minority, lived among +these jackals and tigers.</p> +<p>One of these Protestants was Jean Calas—a small dealer in +dry goods. For forty years he had been in this business, and his +character was without a stain. He was honest, kind and agreeable. +He had a wife and six children—four sons and two daughters. +One of the sons became a Catholic. The eldest son, Marc Antoine, +disliked his father's business and studied law. He could not be +allowed to practice unless he became a Catholic. He tried to get +his license by concealing that he was a Protestant. He was +discovered—grew morose. Finally he became discouraged and +committed suicide, by hanging himself one evening in his father's +store.</p> +<p>The bigots of Toulouse started the story that his parents had +killed him to prevent his becoming a Catholic.</p> +<p>On this frightful charge the father, mother, one son, a servant, +and one guest at their house, were arrested.</p> +<p>The dead son was considered a martyr, the church taking +possession of the body.</p> +<p>This happened in 1761.</p> +<p>There was what was called a trial. There was no evidence, not +the slightest, except hearsay. All the facts were in favor of the +accused.</p> +<p>The united strength of the defendants could not have done the +deed.</p> +<p>Jean Calas was doomed to torture and to death upon the wheel. +This was on the 9th of March, 1762, and the sentence was to be +carried out the next day.</p> +<p>On the morning of the 10th the father was taken to the torture +room. The executioner and his assistants were sworn on the cross to +administer the torture according to the judgment of the court.</p> +<p>They bound him by the wrists to an iron ring in the stone wall +four feet from the ground, and his feet to another ring in the +floor. Then they shortened the ropes and chains until every joint +in his arms and legs was dislocated. Then he was questioned. He +declared that he was innocent. Then the ropes were again shortened +until life fluttered in the torn body; but he remained firm.</p> +<p>This was called "the question ordinaire."</p> +<p>Again the magistrates exhorted the victim to confess, and again +he refused, saying that there was nothing to confess.</p> +<p>Then came "the question extraordinaire."</p> +<p>Into the mouth of the victim was placed a horn holding three +pints of water. In this way thirty pints of water were forced into +the body of the sufferer. The pain was beyond description, and yet +Jean Calas remained firm.</p> +<p>He was then carried to the scaffold in a tumbril.</p> +<p>He was bound to a wooden cross that lay on the scaffold. The +executioner then took a bar of iron, broke each leg and each arm in +two places, striking eleven blows in all. He was then left to die +if he could. He lived for two hours, declaring his innocence to the +last. He was slow to die, and so the executioner strangled him. +Then his poor lacerated, bleeding and broken body was chained to a +stake and burned.</p> +<p>All this was a spectacle—a festival for the savages of +Toulouse. What would they have done if their hearts had not been +softened by the glad tidings of great joy—peace on earth and +good will to men?</p> +<p>But this was not all. The property of the family was +confiscated; the son was released on condition that he become a +Catholic; the servant if she would enter a convent. The two +daughters were consigned to a convent, and the heart-broken widow +was allowed to wander where she would.</p> +<p>Voltaire heard of this case. In a moment his soul was on fire. +He took one of the sons under his roof. He wrote a history of the +case. He corresponded with kings and queens, with chancellors and +lawyers. If money was needed, he advanced it. For years he filled +Europe with the echoes of the groans of Jean Calas. He succeeded. +The horrible judgment was annulled—the poor victim declared +innocent and thousands of dollars raised to support the mother and +family.</p> +<p>This was the work of Voltaire.</p> +<center>THE SIRVEN FAMILY.</center> +<p>Sirven, a Protestant, lived in Languedoc with his wife and three +daughters. The housekeeper of the bishop wanted to make one of the +daughters a Catholic.</p> +<p>The law allowed the bishop to take the child of Protestants from +their parents for the sake of its soul. This little girl was so +taken and placed in a convent. She ran away and came back to her +parents. Her poor little body was covered with the marks of the +convent whip.</p> +<p>"Suffer little children to come unto me."</p> +<p>The child was out of her mind—suddenly she disappeared, +and a few days after her little body was found in a well, three +miles from home.</p> +<p>The cry was raised that her folks had murdered her to keep her +from becoming a Catholic.</p> +<p>This happened only a little way from the Christian City of +Toulouse while Jean Calas was in prison. The Sirvens knew that a +trial would end in conviction. They fled. In their absence they +were convicted, their property confiscated, the parents sentenced +to die by the hangman, the daughters to be under the gallows during +the execution of their mother, and then to be exiled.</p> +<p>The family fled in the midst of winter; the married daughter +gave birth to a child in the snows of the Alps; the mother died, +and, at last reaching Switzerland, the father found himself without +means of support.</p> +<p>They went to Voltaire. He espoused their cause. He took care of +them, gave them the means to live, and labored to annul the +sentence that had been pronounced against them for nine long and +weary years. He appealed to kings for money, to Catharine II. of +Russia, and to hundreds of others. He was successful. He said of +this case: The Sirvens were tried and condemned in two hours in +January, 1762, and now in January, 1772, after ten years of effort, +they have been restored to their rights.</p> +<p>This was the work of Voltaire. Why should the worshipers of God +hate the lovers of men?</p> +<center>THE ESPENASSE CASE.</center> +<p>Espenasse was a Protestant, of good estate. In 1740 he received +into his house a Protestant clergyman, to whom he gave supper and +lodging.</p> +<p>In a country where priests repeated the parable of the "Good +Samaritan," this was a crime.</p> +<p>For this crime Espenasse was tried, convicted and sentenced to +the galleys for life.</p> +<p>When he had been imprisoned for twenty-three years his case came +to the knowledge of Voltaire, and he was, through the efforts of +Voltaire, released and restored to his family.</p> +<p>This was the work of Voltaire. There is not time to tell of the +case of General Lally, of the English General Byng, of the niece of +Corneille, of the Jesuit Adam, of the writers, dramatists, actors, +widows and orphans for whose benefit he gave his influence, his +money and his time. But I will tell another case:</p> +<p>In 1765, at the town of Abbeville, an old wooden cross on a +bridge had been mutilated—whittled with a knife—a +terrible crime. Sticks, when crossing each other, were far more +sacred than flesh and blood. Two young men were suspected—the +Chevalier de la Barre and D'Etallonde. D'Etallonde fled to Prussia +and enlisted as a common soldier.</p> +<p>La Barre remained and stood his trial.</p> +<p>He was convicted without the slightest evidence, and he and +D'Etallonde were both sentenced:</p> +<p><i>First</i>, to endure the torture, ordinary and +extraordinary.</p> +<p><i>Second</i>, to have their tongues torn out by the roots with +pincers of iron.</p> +<p><i>Third</i>, to have their right hands cut off at the door of +the church.</p> +<p><i>Fourth</i>, to be bound to stakes by chains of iron and +burned to death by a slow fire.</p> +<p>"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass +against us."</p> +<p>Remembering this, the judges mitigated the sentence by providing +that their heads should be cut off before their bodies were given +to the flames.</p> +<p>The case was appealed to Paris; heard by a court composed of +twenty-five judges, learned in the law, and the judgment was +confirmed.</p> +<p>The sentence was carried out on the first day of July, 1766.</p> +<p>When Voltaire heard of this judicial infamy he made up his mind +to abandon France. He wished to leave forever a country where such +cruelties were possible.</p> +<p>He wrote a pamphlet, giving the history of the case.</p> +<p>He ascertained the whereabouts of D'Etallonde, wrote in his +behalf to the King of Prussia; got him released from the army; took +him to his own house; kept him for a year and a half; saw that he +was instructed in drawing, mathematics, engineering, and had at +last the happiness of seeing him a captain of engineers in the army +of Frederick the Great.</p> +<p>Such a man was Voltaire. He was the champion of the oppressed +and the helpless. He was the Cæsar to whom the victims of +church and state appealed. He stood for the intellect and heart of +his time.</p> +<p>And yet for a hundred and fifty years those who love their +enemies have exhausted the vocabulary of hate, the ingenuity of +malice and mendacity, in their efforts to save their stupid creeds +from the genius of Voltaire.</p> +<p>From a great height he surveyed the world. His horizon was +large. He had some vices—these he shared in common with +priests—his virtues were his own.</p> +<p>He was in favor of universal education—of the development +of the brain. The church despised him. He wished to put the +knowledge of the whole world within the reach of all. Every priest +was his enemy. He wished to drive from the gate of Eden the +cherubim of superstition, so that the children of Adam might return +and eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. The church opposed +this because it had the fruit of the tree of ignorance for +sale.</p> +<p>He was one of the foremost friends of the Encyclopedia—of +Diderot, and did all in his power to give information to all. So +far as principles were concerned, he was the greatest lawyer of his +time. I do not mean that he knew the terms and decisions, but that +he clearly perceived not only what the law should be, but its +application and administration. He understood the philosophy of +evidence, the difference between suspicion and proof, between +belief and knowledge, and he did more to reform the laws of the +kingdom and the abuses at courts than all the lawyers and statesmen +of his time.</p> +<p>At school, he read and studied the works of Cicero—the +lord of language—probably the greatest orator that has +uttered speech, and the words of the Roman remained in his brain. +He became, in spite of the spirit of caste, a believer in the +equality of men. He said:</p> +<p>"Men are born equal."</p> +<p>"Let us respect virtue and merit."</p> +<p>"Let us have it in the heart that men are equal." He was an +abolitionist—the enemy of slavery in all its forms. He did +not think that the color of one man gave him the right to steal +from another man on account of that man's color. He was the friend +of serf and peasant, and did what he could to protect animals, +wives and children from the fury of those who loved their neighbors +as themselves.</p> +<p>It was Voltaire who sowed the seeds of liberty in the heart and +brain of Franklin, of Jefferson and Thomas Paine.</p> +<p>Pufendorf had taken the ground that slavery was, in part, +founded on contract.</p> +<p>Voltaire said: "Show me the contract, and if it is signed by the +party to be the slave, I may believe."</p> +<p>He thought it absurd that God should drown the fathers, and then +come and die for the children. This is as good as the remark of +Diderot: "If Christ had the power to defend himself from the Jews +and refused to use it, he was guilty of suicide."</p> +<p>He had sense enough to know that the flame of the fagot does not +enlighten the mind. He hated the cruel and pitied the victims of +church and state. He was the friend of the unfortunate—the +helper of the striving. He laughed at the pomp of kings—the +pretensions of priests. He was a believer in the natural and +abhorred with all his heart the miraculous and absurd.</p> +<p>Voltaire was not a saint. He was educated by the Jesuits. He was +never troubled about the salvation of his soul. All the theological +disputes excited his laughter, the creeds his pity, and the conduct +of bigots his contempt. He was much better than a saint.</p> +<p>Most of the Christians in his day kept their religion not for +every day use but for disaster, as ships carry life boats to be +used only in the stress of storm.</p> +<p>Voltaire believed in the religion of humanity—of good and +generous deeds. For many centuries the church had painted virtue so +ugly, sour and cold, that vice was regarded as beautiful. Voltaire +taught the beauty of the useful, the hatefulness and hideousness of +superstition.</p> +<p>He was not the greatest of poets, or of dramatists, but he was +the greatest man of his time, the greatest friend of freedom and +the deadliest foe of superstition.</p> +<p>He did more to break the chains of superstition—to drive +the phantoms of fear from the heart and brain, to destroy the +authority of the church and to give liberty to the world than any +other of the sons of men. In the highest, the holiest sense he was +the most profoundly religious man of his time.</p> +<center>VI. THE RETURN.</center> +<p>AFTER an exile of twenty-seven years, occupying during all that +time a first place in the civilized world, Voltaire returned to +Paris. His journey was a triumphal march. He was received as a +conqueror. The Academy, the Immortals, came to meet him—a +compliment that had never been paid to royalty. His tragedy of +"Irene" was performed. At the theatre he was crowned with laurel, +covered with flowers; he was intoxicated with perfume and with +incense of worship. He was the supreme French poet, standing above +them all. Among the literary men of the world he stood +first—a monarch by the divine right of genius. There were +three mighty forces in France—the throne, the altar and +Voltaire.</p> +<p>The king was the enemy of Voltaire. The court could have nothing +to do with him. The church, malign and morose, was waiting for her +revenge, and yet, such was the reputation of this man—such +the hold he had upon the people—that he became, in spite of +Throne, in spite of Church, the idol of France.</p> +<p>He was an old man of eighty-four. He had been surrounded with +the comforts, the luxuries of life. He was a man of great wealth, +the richest writer that the world had known. Among the literary men +of the earth he stood first. He was an intellectual king—one +who had built his own throne and had woven the purple of his own +power. He was a man of genius. The Catholic God had allowed him the +appearance of success. His last years were filled with the +intoxication of flattery—of almost worship. He stood at the +summit of his age.</p> +<p>The priests became anxious. They began to fear that God would +forget, in a multiplicity of business, to make a terrible example +of Voltaire.</p> +<p>Towards the last of May, 1778, it was whispered in Paris that +Voltaire was dying. Upon the fences of expectation gathered the +unclean birds of superstition, impatiently waiting for their +prey.</p> +<p>"Two days before his death, his nephew went to seek the +Curé of Saint Sulpice and the Abbé Gautier, and +brought them into his uncle's sick chamber. 'Ah, well!' said +Voltaire, 'give them my compliments and my thanks.' The Abbé +spoke some words to him, exhorting him to patience. The curé +of Saint Sulpice then came forward, having announced himself, and +asked of Voltaire, elevating his voice, if he acknowledged the +divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ. The sick man pushed one of his +hands against the curés coif, shoving him back and cried, +turning abruptly to the other side, 'Let me die in peace.' The +curé seemingly considered his person soiled and his coif +dishonored by the touch of a philosopher. He made the nurse give +him a little brushing and went out with the Abbé +Gautier."</p> +<p>He expired, says Wagnière, on the 30th of May, 1778, at +about a quarter-past eleven at night, with the most perfect +tranquillity. A few minutes before his last breath he took the hand +of Morand, his <i>valet de chambre</i>, who was watching by him, +pressed it, and said: "Adieu, my dear Morand, I am gone." These +were his last words. Like a peaceful river with green and shaded +banks, he flowed without a murmur into the waveless sea, where life +is rest.</p> +<p>From this death, so simple and serene, so kind, so philosophic +and tender, so natural and peaceful; from these words, so utterly +destitute of cant or dramatic touch, all the frightful pictures, +all the despairing utterances, have been drawn and made. From these +materials, and from these alone, or rather, in spite of these +facts, have been constructed by priests and clergymen and their +dupes all the shameless lies about the death of this great and +wonderful man. A man, compared with whom all of his calumniators, +dead and living, were, and are, but dust and vermin.</p> +<p>Let us be honest. Did all the priests of Rome increase the +mental wealth of man as much as Bruno? Did all the priests of +France do as great a work for the civilization of the world as +Voltaire or Diderot? Did all the ministers of Scotland add as much +to the sum of human knowledge as David Hume? Have all the +clergymen, monks, friars, ministers, priests, bishops, cardinals +and popes, from the day of Pentecost to the last election, done as +much for human liberty as Thomas Paine?</p> +<p>What would the world be if infidels had never been?</p> +<p>The infidels have been the brave and thoughtful men; the flower +of all the world; the pioneers and heralds of the blessed day of +liberty and love; the generous spirits of the unworthy past; the +seers and prophets of our race; the great chivalric souls, proud +victors on the battlefields of thought, the creditors of all the +years to be.</p> +<p>Why should it be taken for granted that the men who devoted +their lives to the liberation of their fellow-men should have been +hissed at in the hour of death by the snakes of conscience, while +men who defended slavery—practiced polygamy—-justified +the stealing of babes from the breasts of mothers, and lashed the +naked back of unpaid labor, are supposed to have passed smilingly +from earth to the embraces of the angels? Why should we think that +the brave thinkers, the investigators, the honest men, must have +left the crumbling shore of time in dread and fear, while the +instigators of the massacre of St. Bartholomew; the inventors and +users of thumb-screws, of iron boots and racks; the burners and +tearers of human flesh; the stealers, the whippers and the +enslavers of men; the buyers and beaters of maidens, mothers and +babes; the founders of the Inquisition; the makers of chains; the +builders of dungeons; the calumniators of the living; the +slanderers of the dead, and even the murderers of Jesus Christ, all +died in the odor of sanctity, with white, forgiven hands folded +upon the breasts of peace, while the destroyers of prejudice, the +apostles of humanity, the soldiers of liberty, the breakers of +fetters, the creators of light, died surrounded by the fierce +fiends of God?</p> +<p>In those days the philosophers—that is to say, the +thinkers—were not buried in holy ground. It was feared that +their principles might contaminate the ashes of the just. And they +also feared that on the morning of the resurrection they might, in +a moment of confusion, slip into heaven. Some were burned, and +their ashes scattered; and the bodies of some were thrown naked to +beasts, and others buried in unholy earth.</p> +<p>Voltaire knew the history of Adrienne Le Couvreur, a beautiful +actress, denied burial.</p> +<p>After all, we do feel an interest in what is to become of our +bodies. There is a modesty that belongs to death. Upon this subject +Voltaire was infinitely sensitive. It was that he might be buried +that he went through the farce of confession, of absolution, and of +the last sacrament. The priests knew that he was not in earnest, +and Voltaire knew that they would not allow him to be buried in any +of the cemeteries of Paris.</p> +<p>His death was kept a secret. The Abbé Mignot made +arrangements for the burial at Romilli-on-the-Seine, more than 100 +miles from Paris. On Sunday evening, on the last day of May, 1778, +the body of Voltaire, clad in a dressing gown, clothed to resemble +an invalid, posed to simulate life, was placed in a carriage; at +its side, a servant, whose business it was to keep it in position. +To this carriage were attached six horses, so that people might +think a great lord was going to his estates. Another carriage +followed, in which were a grand nephew and two cousins of Voltaire. +All night they traveled, and on the following day arrived at the +courtyard of the Abbey. The necessary papers were shown, the mass +was performed in the presence of the body, and Voltaire found +burial. A few moments afterwards, the prior, who "for charity had +given a little earth," received from his bishop a menacing letter +forbidding the burial of Voltaire. It was too late.</p> +<p>Voltaire was dead. The foundations of State and Throne had been +sapped. The people were becoming acquainted with the real kings and +with the actual priests. Unknown men born in misery and want, men +whose fathers and mothers had been pavement for the rich, were +rising toward the light, and their shadowy faces were emerging from +darkness. Labor and thought became friends. That is, the gutter and +the attic fraternized. The monsters of the Night and the angels of +the Dawn—the first thinking of revenge, and the others +dreaming of equality, liberty and fraternity.</p> +<center>VII. THE DEATH-BED ARGUMENT.</center> +<p>ALL kinds of criminals, except infidels, meet death with +reasonable serenity. As a rule, there is nothing in the death of a +pirate to cast any discredit on his profession. The murderer upon +the scaffold, with a priest on either side, smilingly exhorts the +multitude to meet him in heaven. The man who has succeeded in +making his home a hell, meets death without a quiver, provided he +has never expressed any doubt as to the divinity of Christ, or the +eternal "procession" of the Holy Ghost. The king who has waged +cruel and useless war, who has filled countries with widows and +fatherless children, with the maimed and diseased, and who has +succeeded in offering to the Moloch of ambition the best and +bravest of his subjects, dies like a saint.</p> +<p>All the believing kings are in heaven—all the doubting +philosophers in perdition. All the persecutors sleep in peace, and +the ashes of those who burned their brothers, sleep in consecrated +ground. Libraries could hardly contain the names of the Christian +wretches who have filled the world with violence and death in +defence of book and creed, and yet they all died the death of the +righteous, and no priest, no minister, describes the agony and +fear, the remorse and horror with which their guilty souls were +filled in the last moments of their lives. These men had never +doubted—they had never thought—they accepted the creed +as they did the fashion of their clothes. They were not infidels, +they could not be—they had been baptized, they had not denied +the divinity of Christ, they had partaken of the "last supper." +They respected priests, they admitted that Christ had two natures +and the same number of wills; they admitted that the Holy Ghost had +"proceeded," and that, according to the multiplication table of +heaven, once one is three, and three times one is one, and these +things put pillows beneath their heads and covered them with the +drapery of peace.</p> +<p>They admitted that while kings and priests did nothing worse +than to make their fellows wretched, that so long as they only +butchered and burnt the innocent and helpless, God would maintain +the strictest neutrality; but when some honest man, some great and +tender soul, expressed a doubt as to the truth of the Scriptures, +or prayed to the wrong God, or to the right one by the wrong name, +then the real God leaped like a wounded tiger upon his victim, and +from his quivering flesh tore his wretched soul.</p> +<p>There is no recorded instance where the uplifted hand of murder +has been paralyzed—no truthful account in all the literature +of the world of the innocent child being shielded by God. Thousands +of crimes are being committed every day—men are at this +moment lying in wait for their human prey—wives are whipped +and crushed, driven to insanity and death—little children +begging for mercy, lifting imploring, tear-filled eyes to the +brutal faces of fathers and mothers—sweet girls are deceived, +lured and outraged, but God has no time to prevent these +things—no time to defend the good and protect the pure. He is +too busy numbering hairs and watching sparrows. He listens for +blasphemy; looks for persons who laugh at priests; examines +baptismal registers; watches professors in college who begin to +doubt the geology of Moses and the astronomy of Joshua. He does not +particularly object to stealing, if you won't swear. A great many +persons have fallen dead in the act of taking God's name in vain, +but millions of men, women and children have been stolen from their +homes and used as beasts of burden, but no one engaged in this +infamy has ever been touched by the wrathful hand of God.</p> +<p>Now and then a man of genius, of sense, of intellectual honesty, +has appeared. Such men have denounced the superstitions of their +day. They have pitied the multitude. To see priests devour the +substance of the people—priests who made begging one of the +learned professions—filled them with loathing and contempt. +These men were honest enough to tell their thoughts, brave enough +to speak the truth. Then they were denounced, tried, tortured, +killed by rack or flame. But some escaped the fury of the fiends +who love their enemies, and died naturally in their beds. It would +not do for the church to admit that they died peacefully. That +would show that religion was not essential at the last moment. +Superstition gets its power from the terror of death. It would not +do to have the common people understand that a man could deny the +Bible—refuse to kiss the cross—contend that Humanity +was greater than Christ, and then die as sweetly as Torquemada did, +after pouring molten lead into the ears of an honest man; or as +calmly as Calvin after he had burned Servetus; or as peacefully as +King David after advising with his last breath one son to +assassinate another.</p> +<p>The church has taken great pains to show that the last moments +of all infidels (that Christians did not succeed in burning) were +infinitely wretched and despairing. It was alleged that words could +not paint the horrors that were endured by a dying infidel. Every +good Christian was expected to, and generally did, believe these +accounts. They have been told and retold in every pulpit of the +world. Protestant ministers have repeated the lies invented by +Catholic priests, and Catholics, by a kind of theological comity, +have sworn to the lies told by the Protestants. Upon this point +they have always stood together, and will as long as the same +falsehood can be used by both.</p> +<p>Instead of doing these things, Voltaire wilfully closed his eyes +to the light of the gospel, examined the Bible for himself, +advocated intellectual liberty, struck from the brain the fetters +of an arrogant faith, assisted the weak, cried out against the +torture of man, appealed to reason, endeavored to establish +universal toleration, succored the indigent, and defended the +oppressed.</p> +<p>He demonstrated that the origin of all religions is the +same—the same mysteries—the same miracles—the +same imposture—the same temples and ceremonies—the same +kind of founders, apostles and dupes—the same promises and +threats—the same pretence of goodness and forgiveness and the +practice of the same persecution and murder. He proved that +religion made enemies—philosophy friends—and that above +the rights of Gods were the rights of man.</p> +<p>These were his crimes. Such a man God would not suffer to die in +peace. If allowed to meet death with a smile, others might follow +his example, until none would be left to light the holy fires of +the <i>auto da fe</i>. It would not do for so great, so successful, +an enemy of the church to die without leaving some shriek of fear, +some shudder of remorse, some ghastly prayer of chattered horror +uttered by lips covered with blood and foam.</p> +<p>For many centuries the theologians have taught that an +unbeliever—an infidel—one who spoke or wrote against +their creed, could not meet death with composure; that in his last +moments God would fill his conscience with the serpents of +remorse.</p> +<p>For a thousand years the clergy have manufactured the facts to +fit this theory—this infamous conception of the duty of man +and the justice of God.</p> +<p>The theologians have insisted that crimes against man were, and +are, as nothing compared with crimes against God.</p> +<p>Upon the death-bed subject the clergy grow eloquent. When +describing the shudderings and shrieks of the dying unbeliever, +their eyes glitter with delight.</p> +<p>It is a festival.</p> +<p>They are no longer men. They become hyenas. They dig open +graves. They devour the dead.</p> +<p>It is a banquet.</p> +<p>Unsatisfied still, they paint the terrors of hell. They gaze at +the souls of the infidels writhing in the coils of the worm that +never dies. They see them in flames—in oceans of +fire—in gulfs of pain—in abysses of despair. They shout +with joy. They applaud.</p> +<p>It is an <i>auto da fe</i>, presided over by God.</p> +<center>VIII. THE SECOND RETURN.</center> +<p>FOR four hundred years the Bastile had been the outward symbol +of oppression. Within its walls the noblest had perished. It was a +perpetual threat. It was the last, and often the first, argument of +king and priest. Its dungeons, damp and rayless, its massive +towers, its secret cells, its instruments of torture, denied the +existence of God.</p> +<p>In 1789, on the 14th of July, the people, the multitude, +frenzied by suffering, stormed and captured the Bastile. The +battle-cry was "Vive Voltaire."</p> +<p>In 1791 permission was given to place in the Pantheon the ashes +of Voltaire. He had been buried 110 miles from Paris. Buried by +stealth, he was to be removed by a nation. A funeral procession of +a hundred miles; every village with its flags and arches; all the +people anxious to honor the philosopher of France—the Savior +of Calas—the Destroyer of Superstition.</p> +<p>On reaching Paris the great procession moved along the Rue St. +Antoine. Here it paused, and for one night upon the ruins of the +Bastile rested the body of Voltaire—rested in triumph, in +glory—rested on fallen wall and broken arch, on crumbling +stone still damp with tears, on rusting chain and bar and useless +bolt—above the dungeons dark and deep, where light had faded +from the lives of men and hope had died in breaking hearts.</p> +<p>The conqueror resting upon the conquered.—Throned upon the +Bastile, the fallen fortress of Night, the body of Voltaire, from +whose brain had issued the Dawn.</p> +<p>For a moment his ashes must have felt the Promethean fire, and +the old smile must have illumined once more the face of death.</p> +<p>The vast multitude bowed in reverence, hushed with love and awe +heard these words uttered by a priest: "God shall be avenged."</p> +<p>The cry of the priest was a prophecy. Priests skulking in the +shadows with faces sinister as night, ghouls in the name of the +gospel, desecrated the grave. They carried away the ashes of +Voltaire.</p> +<p>The tomb is empty.</p> +<p>God is avenged.</p> +<p>The world is filled with his fame.</p> +<p>Man has conquered.</p> +<p>Was there in the eighteenth century, a man wearing the vestments +of the church, the equal of Voltaire?</p> +<p>What cardinal, what bishop, what priest in France raised his +voice for the rights of men? What ecclesiastic, what nobleman, took +the side of the oppressed—of the peasant? Who denounced the +frightful criminal code—the torture of suspected persons? +What priest pleaded for the liberty of the citizen? What bishop +pitied the victims of the rack? Is there the grave of a priest in +France on which a lover of liberty would now drop a flower or a +tear? Is there a tomb holding the ashes of a saint from which +emerges one ray of light?</p> +<p>If there be another life—a day of judgment, no God can +afford to torture in another world the man who abolished torture in +this. If God be the keeper of an eternal penitentiary, he should +not imprison there the men who broke the chains of slavery here. He +cannot afford to make an eternal convict of Voltaire.</p> +<p>Voltaire was a perfect master of the French language, knowing +all its moods, tenses and declinations, in fact and in +feeling—playing upon it as skillfully as Paganini on his +violin, finding expression for every thought and fancy, writing on +the most serious subjects with the gayety of a harlequin, plucking +jests from the crumbling mouth of death, graceful as the waving of +willows, dealing in double meanings that covered the asp with +flowers and flattery—master of satire and +compliment—mingling them often in the same line, always +interested himself, and therefore interesting others—handling +thoughts, questions, subjects as a juggler does balls, keeping them +in the air with perfect ease—dressing old words in new +meanings, charming, grotesque, pathetic, mingling mirth with tears, +wit and wisdom, and sometimes wickedness, logic and laughter. With +a woman's instinct knowing the sensitive nerves—just where to +touch—hating arrogance of place, the stupidity of the +solemn—snatching masks from priest and king, knowing the +springs of action and ambition's ends—perfectly familiar with +the great world—the intimate of kings and their favorites, +sympathizing with the oppressed and imprisoned, with the +unfortunate and poor, hating tyranny, despising superstition, and +loving liberty with all his heart. Such was Voltaire writing +"Odipus" at seventeen, "Irene" at eighty-three, and crowding +between these two tragedies the accomplishment of a thousand +lives.</p> +<p>From his throne at the foot of the Alps, he pointed the finger +of scorn at every hypocrite in Europe. For half a century, past +rack and stake, past dungeon and cathedral, past altar and throne, +he carried with brave hands the sacred torch of Reason, whose light +at last will flood the world.</p> +<a name="link0005" id="link0005"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>LIBERTY IN LITERATURE.</h2> +<h3>(A TESTIMONIAL TO WALT WHITMAN.)</h3> +<pre> + * An address delivered in Philadelphia, Oct. 21, 1890. Used + by permission of the Truth Seeker Co. +</pre> +<center>I. LET US PUT WREATHS ON THE BROWS OF THE LIVING.</center> +<p>IN the year 1855 the American people knew but little of books. +Their ideals, their models, were English. Young and Pollok, Addison +and Watts, were regarded as great poets. Some of the more reckless +read Thomson's "Seasons" and the poems and novels of Sir Walter +Scott. A few, not quite orthodox, delighted in the mechanical +monotony of Pope, and the really wicked—those lost to all +religious shame—were worshipers of Shakespeare. The really +orthodox Protestant, untroubled by doubts, considered Milton the +greatest poet of them all. Byron and Shelley were hardly +respectable—not to be read by young persons. It was admitted +on all hands that Burns was a child of nature of whom his mother +was ashamed and proud.</p> +<p>In the blessed year aforesaid, candor, free and sincere speech, +were under the ban. Creeds at that time were entrenched behind +statutes, prejudice, custom, ignorance, stupidity, Puritanism and +slavery; that is to say, slavery of mind and body.</p> +<p>Of course it always has been, and forever will be, impossible +for slavery, or any kind or form of injustice, to produce a great +poet. There are hundreds of verse makers and writers on the side of +wrong—enemies of progress—but they are not poets, they +are not men of genius.</p> +<p>At this time a young man—he to whom this testimonial is +given—he upon whose head have fallen the snows of more than +seventy winters—this man, born within the sound of the sea, +gave to the world a book, "Leaves of Grass." This book was, and is, +the true transcript of a soul. The man is unmasked. No drapery of +hypocrisy, no pretence, no fear. The book was as original in form +as in thought. All customs were forgotten or disregarded, all rules +broken—nothing mechanical—no +imitation—spontaneous, running and winding like a river, +multitudinous in its thoughts as the waves of the sea—nothing +mathematical or measured—in everything a touch of chaos; +lacking what is called form, as clouds lack form, but not lacking +the splendor of sunrise or the glory of sunset. It was a marvelous +collection and aggregation of fragments, hints, suggestions, +memories, and prophecies, weeds and flowers, clouds and clods, +sights and sounds, emotions and passions, waves, shadows and +constellations.</p> +<p>His book was received by many with disdain, with horror, with +indignation and protest—by the few as a marvelous, almost +miraculous, message to the world—full of thought, philosophy, +poetry and music.</p> +<p>In the republic of mediocrity genius is dangerous. A great soul +appears and fills the world with new and marvelous harmonies. In +his words is the old Promethean flame. The heart of nature beats +and throbs in his line. The respectable prudes and pedagogues sound +the alarm, and cry, or rather screech: "Is this a book for a young +person?"</p> +<p>A poem true to life as a Greek statue—candid as +nature—fills these barren souls with fear.</p> +<p>They forget that drapery about the perfect was suggested by +immodesty.</p> +<p>The provincial prudes, and others of like mold, pretend that +love is a duty rather than a passion—a kind of +self-denial—not an over-mastering joy. They preach the gospel +of pretence and pantalettes, In the presence of sincerity, of +truth, they cast down their eyes and endeavor to feel immodest. To +them, the most beautiful thing is hypocrisy adorned with a +blush.</p> +<p>They have no idea of an honest, pure passion, glorying in its +strength—intense, intoxicated with the beautiful, giving even +to inanimate things pulse and motion, and that transfigures, +ennobles, and idealizes the object of its adoration.</p> +<p>They do not walk the streets of the city of life—they +explore the sewers; they stand in the gutters and cry "Unclean!" +They pretend that beauty is a snare; that love is a Delilah; that +the highway of joy is the broad road, lined with flowers and filled +with perfume, leading to the city of eternal sorrow.</p> +<p>Since the year 1855 the American people have developed; they are +somewhat acquainted with the literature of the world. They have +witnessed the most tremendous of revolutions, not only upon the +fields of battle, but in the world of thought. The American citizen +has concluded that it is hardly worth while being a sovereign +unless he has the right to think for himself.</p> +<p>And now, from this height, with the vantage-ground of to-day, I +propose to examine this book and to state, in a general way, what +Walt Whitman has done, what he has accomplished, and the place he +has won in the world of thought.</p> +<center>II. THE RELIGION OF THE BODY.</center> +<p>WALT WHITMAN stood when he published his book, where all stand +to-night, on the perpetually moving line where history ends and +prophecy begins. He was full of life to the very tips of his +fingers—brave, eager, candid, joyous with health. He was +acquainted with the past. He knew something of song and story, of +philosophy and art; much of the heroic dead, of brave suffering, of +the thoughts of men, the habits of the people—rich as well as +poor—familiar with labor, a friend of wind and wave, touched +by love and friendship, liking the open road, enjoying the fields +and paths, the crags, friend of the forest—feeling that he +was free—neither master nor slave; willing that all should +know his thoughts; open as the sky, candid as nature, and he gave +his thoughts, his dreams, his conclusions, his hopes and his mental +portrait to his fellow-men.</p> +<p>Walt Whitman announced the gospel of the body. He confronted the +people. He denied the depravity of man. He insisted that love is +not a crime; that men and women should be proudly natural; that +they need not grovel on the earth and cover their faces for shame, +He taught the dignity and glory of the father and mother; the +sacredness of maternity.</p> +<p>Maternity, tender and pure as the tear of pity, holy as +suffering—the crown, the flower, the ecstasy of love!</p> +<p>People had been taught from Bibles and from creeds that +maternity was a kind of crime; that the woman should be purified by +some ceremony in some temple built in honor of some god. This +barbarism was attacked in "Leaves of Grass."</p> +<p>The glory of simple life was sung; a declaration of independence +was made for each and all.</p> +<p>And yet this appeal to manhood and to womanhood was +misunderstood. It was denounced simply because it was in harmony +with the great trend of nature. To me, the most obscene word in our +language is celibacy.</p> +<p>It was not the fashion for people to speak or write their +thoughts. We were flooded with the literature of hypocrisy. The +writers did not faithfully describe the worlds in which they lived. +They endeavored to make a fashionable world. They pretended that +the cottage or the hut in which they dwelt was a palace, and they +called the little area in which they threw their slops their +domain, their realm, their empire. They were ashamed of the real, +of what their world actually was. They imitated; that is to say, +they told lies, and these lies filled the literature of most +lands.</p> +<p>Walt Whitman defended the sacredness of love, the purity of +passion—the passion that builds every home and fills the +world with art and song.</p> +<p>They cried out: "He is a defender of passion—he is a +libertine! He lives in the mire. He lacks spirituality!"</p> +<p>Whoever differs with the multitude, especially with a led +multitude—that is to say, with a multitude of +taggers—will find out from their leaders that he has +committed an unpardonable sin. It is a crime to travel a road of +your own, especially if you put up guide-boards for the information +of others.</p> +<p>Many, many centuries ago Epicurus, the greatest man of his +century, and of many centuries before and after, said: "Happiness +is the only good; happiness is the supreme end." This man was +temperate, frugal, generous, noble—and yet through all these +years he has been denounced by the hypocrites of the world as a +mere eater and drinker.</p> +<p>It was said that Whitman had exaggerated the importance of +love—that he had made too much of this passion. Let me say +that no poet—not excepting Shakespeare—has had +imagination enough to exaggerate the importance of human +love—a passion that contains all heights and all +depths—ample as space, with a sky in which glitter all +constellations, and that has within it all storms, all lightnings, +all wrecks and ruins, all griefs, all sorrows, all shadows, and all +the joy and sunshine of which the heart and brain are capable.</p> +<p>No writer must be measured by a word or paragraph. He is to be +measured by his work—by the tendency, not of one line, but by +the tendency of all.</p> +<p>Which way does the great stream tend? Is it for good or evil? +Are the motives high and noble, or low and infamous?</p> +<p>We cannot measure Shakespeare by a few lines, neither can we +measure the Bible by a few chapters, nor "Leaves of Grass" by a few +paragraphs. In each there are many things that I neither approve +nor believe—but in all books you will find a mingling of +wisdom and foolishness, of prophecies and mistakes—in other +words, among the excellencies there will be defects. The mine is +not all gold, or all silver, or all diamonds—there are baser +metals. The trees of the forest are not all of one size. On some of +the highest there are dead and useless limbs, and there may be +growing beneath the bushes weeds, and now and then a poisonous +vine.</p> +<p>If I were to edit the great books of the world, I might leave +out some lines and I might leave out the best. I have no right to +make of my brain a sieve and say that only that which passes +through belongs to the rest of the human race. I claim the right to +choose. I give that right to all.</p> +<p>Walt Whitman had the courage to express his thought—the +candor to tell the truth. And here let me say it gives me +joy—a kind of perfect satisfaction—to look above the +bigoted bats, the satisfied owls and wrens and chickadees, and see +the great eagle poised, circling higher and higher, unconscious of +their existence. And it gives me joy, a kind of perfect +satisfaction, to look above the petty passions and jealousies of +small and respectable people, above the considerations of place and +power and reputation, and see a brave, intrepid man.</p> +<p>It must be remembered that the American people had separated +from the Old World—that we had declared not only the +independence of colonies, but the independence of the individual. +We had done more—we had declared that the state could no +longer be ruled by the church, and that the church could not be +ruled by the state, and that the individual could not be ruled by +the church.</p> +<p>These declarations were in danger of being forgotten. We needed +a new voice, sonorous, loud and clear, a new poet for America, for +the new epoch, somebody to chant the morning song of the new +day.</p> +<p>The great man who gives a true transcript of his mind, +fascinates and instructs. Most writers suppress individuality. They +wish to please the public. They flatter the stupid and pander to +the prejudice of their readers. They write for the market, making +books as other mechanics make shoes. They have no message, they +bear no torch, they are simply the slaves of customers.</p> +<p>The books they manufacture are handled by "the trade;" they are +regarded as harmless. The pulpit does not object; the young person +can read the monotonous pages without a blush—or a +thought.</p> +<p>On the title pages of these books you will find the imprint of +the great publishers; on the rest of the pages, nothing. These +books might be prescribed for insomnia.</p> +<center>III.</center> +<p>Men of talent, men of business, touch life upon few sides. They +travel but the beaten path. The creative spirit is not in them. +They regard with suspicion a poet who touches life on every side. +They have little confidence in that divine thing called sympathy, +and they do not and cannot understand the man who enters into the +hopes, the aims and the feelings of all others.</p> +<p>In all genius there is the touch of chaos—a little of the +vagabond; and the successful tradesman, the man who buys and sells, +or manages a bank, does not care to deal with a person who has only +poems for collaterals; they have a little fear of such people, and +regard them as the awkward countryman does a sleight-of-hand +performer.</p> +<p>In every age in which books have been produced the governing +class, the respectable, have been opposed to the works of real +genius. If what are known as the best people could have had their +way, if the pulpit had been consulted—the provincial +moralists—the works of Shakespeare would have been +suppressed. Not a line would have reached our time. And the same +may be said of every dramatist of his age.</p> +<p>If the Scotch Kirk could have decided, nothing would have been +known of Robert Burns. If the good people, the orthodox, could have +had their say, not one line of Voltaire would now be known. All the +plates of the French Encyclopedia would have been destroyed with +the thousands that were destroyed. Nothing would have been known of +D'Alembert, Grimm, Diderot, or any of the Titans who warred against +the thrones and altars and laid the foundation of modern literature +not only, but what is of far greater moment, universal +education.</p> +<p>It is not too much to say that every book now held in high +esteem would have been destroyed, if those in authority could have +had their will. Every book of modern times that has a real value, +that has enlarged the intellectual horizon of mankind, that has +developed the brain, that has furnished real food for thought, can +be found in the Index Expurgatorius of the Papacy, and nearly every +one has been commended to the free minds of men by the +denunciations of Protestants.</p> +<p>If the guardians of society, the protectors of "young persons," +could have had their way, we should have known nothing of Byron or +Shelley. The voices that thrill the world would now be silent. If +authority could have had its way, the world would have been as +ignorant now as it was when our ancestors lived in holes or hung +from dead limbs by their prehensile tails.</p> +<p>But we are not forced to go very far back. If Shakespeare had +been published for the first time now, those divine +plays—greater than continents and seas, greater even than the +constellations of the midnight sky—would be excluded from the +mails by the decision of the present enlightened +postmaster-general.</p> +<p>The poets have always lived in an ideal world, and that ideal +world has always been far better than the real world. As a +consequence, they have forever roused, not simply the imagination, +but the energies—the enthusiasm of the human race.</p> +<p>The great poets have been on the side of the oppressed—of +the downtrodden. They have suffered with the imprisoned and the +enslaved, and whenever and wherever man has suffered for the right, +wherever the hero has been stricken down—whether on field or +scaffold—some man of genius has walked by his side, and some +poet has given form and expression, not simply to his deeds, but to +his aspirations.</p> +<p>From the Greek and Roman world we still hear the voices of a +few. The poets, the philosophers, the artists and the orators still +speak. Countless millions have been covered by the waves of +oblivion, but the few who uttered the elemental truths, who had +sympathy for the whole human race, and who were great enough to +prophesy a grander day, are as alive to-night as when they roused, +by their bodily presence, by their living voices, by their works of +art, the enthusiasm of their fellow-men.</p> +<p>Think of the respectable people, of the men of wealth and +position, those who dwelt in mansions, children of success, who +went down to the grave voiceless, and whose names we do not know. +Think of the vast multitudes, the endless processions, that entered +the caverns of eternal night, leaving no thought, no truth as a +legacy to mankind!</p> +<p>The great poets have sympathized with the people. They have +uttered in all ages the human cry. Unbought by gold, unawed by +power, they have lifted high the torch that illuminates the +world.</p> +<center>IV.</center> +<p>Walt Whitman is in the highest sense a believer in democracy. He +knows that there is but one excuse for government—the +preservation of liberty, to the end that man may be happy. He knows +that there is but one excuse for any institution, secular or +religious—the preservation of liberty; and that there is but +one excuse for schools, lor universal education, for the +ascertainment of facts, namely, the preservation of liberty. He +resents the arrogance and cruelty of power. He has sworn never to +be tyrant or slave. He has solemnly declared:</p> +<p>"<i>I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of +democracy, By God! I will accept nothing which all cannot have +their counterpart of on the same terms</i>."</p> +<p>This one declaration covers the entire ground. It is a +declaration of independence, and it is also a declaration of +justice, that is to say, a declaration of the independence of the +individual, and a declaration that all shall be free. The man who +has this spirit can truthfully say:</p> +<p>"<i>I have taken off my hat to nothing known or unknown. I am +for those that have never been master'd.</i>"</p> +<p>There is in Whitman what he calls "The boundless impatience of +restraint," together with that sense of justice which compelled him +to say, "Neither a servant nor a master am I."</p> +<p>He was wise enough to know that giving others the same rights +that he claims for himself could not harm him, and he was great +enough to say: "As if it were not indispensable to my own rights +that others possess the same."</p> +<p>He felt as all should feel, that the liberty of no man is safe +unless the liberty of each is safe.</p> +<p>There is in our country a little of the old servile spirit, a +little of the bowing and cringing to others. Many Americans do not +understand that the officers of the government are simply the +servants of the people. Nothing is so demoralizing as the worship +of place. Whitman has reminded the people of this country that they +are supreme, and he has said to them:</p> +<p>"<i>The President is there in the White House for you, it is not +you who are here for him, The Secretaries act in their bureaus for +you, not you here for them. Doctrines, politics and civilization +exurge from you, Sculpture and monuments and any thing inscribed +anywhere are tallied in you</i>."</p> +<p>He describes the ideal American citizen—the one who</p> +<p>"<i>Says indifferently and alike 'How are you, friend?' to the +President at his levee, And he says 'Good-day, my brother,' to +Cudge that hoes in the sugar-field</i>."</p> +<p>Long ago, when the politicians were wrong, when the judges were +subservient, when the pulpit was a coward, Walt Whitman +shouted:</p> +<p>"<i>Man shall not hold property in man.</i>"</p> +<p>"<i>The least develop'd person on earth is just as important and +sacred to himself or herself as the most develop'd person is to +himself or herself.</i>"</p> +<p>This is the very soul of true democracy.</p> +<p>Beauty is not all there is of poetry. It must contain the truth. +It is not simply an oak, rude and grand, neither is it simply a +vine. It is both. Around the oak of truth runs the vine of +beauty.</p> +<p>Walt Whitman utters the elemental truths and is the poet of +democracy. He is also the poet of individuality.</p> +<center>V. INDIVIDUALITY.</center> +<p>IN order to protect the liberties of a nation, we must protect +the individual. A democracy is a nation of free individuals. The +individuals are not to be sacrificed to the nation. The nation +exists only for the purpose of guarding and protecting the +individuality of men and women. Walt Whitman has told us that: "The +whole theory of the universe is directed unerringly to one single +individual—namely to You."</p> +<p>And he has also told us that the greatest city—the +greatest nation—is "where the citizen is always the head and +ideal."</p> +<p>And that</p> +<p>"<i>A great city is that which has the greatest men and women, +If it be a few ragged huts it is still the greatest city in the +whole world.</i>"</p> +<p>By this test maybe the greatest city on the continent to-night +is Camden.</p> +<p>This poet has asked of us this question:</p> +<p>"<i>What do you suppose will satisfy the soul, except to walk +free and own no superior?</i>"</p> +<p>The man who asks this question has left no impress of his lips +in the dust, and has no dirt upon his knees.</p> +<p>He was great enough to say:</p> +<p>"<i>The soul has that measureless pride which revolts from every +lesson but its own.</i>"</p> +<p>He carries the idea of individuality to its utmost height:</p> +<p>"<i>What do you suppose I would intimate to you in a hundred +ways, but that man or woman is as good as God? And that there is no +God any more divine than Yourself?</i>"</p> +<p>Glorying in individuality, in the freedom of the soul, he cries +out:</p> +<pre> + "O to struggle against great odds, to meet enemies undaunted! + To be entirely alone with them, to find how much one can stand! + To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, face to face! + To mount the scaffold, to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance! + To be indeed a God!" +</pre> +<p>And again:</p> +<pre> + "O the joy of a manly self-hood! + To be servile to none, to defer to none, not to any tyrant known or unknown, + + To walk with erect carriage, a step springy and elastic, + To look with calm gaze or with a flashing eye, + + To speak with full and sonorous voice out of a broad chest, + To confront with your personality all the other personalities of the earth." +</pre> +<p>Walt Whitman is willing to stand alone. He is sufficient unto +himself, and he says:</p> +<pre> + "Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune. + Strong and content I travel the open road." +</pre> +<p>He is one of</p> +<pre> + "Those that look carelessly in the faces of Presidents and Governors, + as to say 'Who are you? '" +</pre> +<p>And not only this, but he has the courage to say: "Nothing, not +God, is greater to one than one's self." Walt Whitman is the poet +of Individuality—the defender of the rights of each for the +sake of all—and his sympathies are as wide as the world. He +is the defender of the whole race.</p> +<center>VI. HUMANITY.</center> +<p>THE great poet is intensely human, infinitely sympathetic, +entering into the joys and griefs of others, bearing their burdens, +knowing their sorrows. Brain without heart is not much; they must +act together. When the respectable people of the North, the rich, +the successful, were willing to carry out the Fugitive Slave Law, +Walt Whitman said:</p> +<pre> + "I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, + Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen, + I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn'd with the ooze of my skin, + I fall on the weeds and stones, + The riders spur their unwilling horses, haul close, + Taunt my dizzy ears, and beat me violently over the head with whip-stocks. + Agonies are one of my changes of garments, + I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, + I myself become the wounded person.... + I... see myself in prison shaped like another man, + And feel the dull unintermitted pain. + For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch, + It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night. + Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail but I am handcuff'd to him and walk by his side. + Judge not as the judge judges, but as the sun falling upon a helpless thing." +</pre> +<p>Of the very worst he had the infinite tenderness to say: "Not +until the sun excludes you will I exclude you."</p> +<p>In this age of greed when houses and lands and stocks and bonds +outrank human life; when gold is of more value than blood, these +words should be read by all:</p> +<pre> + "When the psalm sings instead of the singer, + When the script preaches instead of the preacher, + When the pulpit descends and goes instead of the carver that carved the supporting desk, + When I can touch the body of books by night or day, and when they touch my body back again," + When a university course convinces like a slumbering woman and child convince, + When the minted gold in the vault smiles like the night-watchman's daughter, + When warrantee deeds loaf in chairs opposite and are my friendly companions, + I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much of them as I do of men and women like you." +</pre> +<center>VII.</center> +<p>The poet is also a painter, a sculptor—he, too, deals in +form and color. The great poet is of necessity a great artist. With +a few words he creates pictures, filling his canvas with living men +and women—with those who feel and speak. Have you ever read +the account of the stage-driver's funeral? Let me read it:</p> +<pre> + "Cold dash of waves at the ferry-wharf, posh and ice in the river, half-frozen mud in the streets, + A gray discouraged sky overhead, the short, last daylight of December, + A hearse and stages, the funeral of an old Broadway stage-driver, the cortege mostly drivers. + Steady the trot to the cemetery, duly rattles the death-bell, The gate is pass'd, the new-dug grave is halted at, the living alight, the hearse uncloses. + The coffin is pass'd out, lower'd and settled, the whip is laid on the coffin, the earth is swiftly shovel'd in, + The mound above is flatted with the spades—silence, + A minute—no one moves or speaks—it is done, + He is decently put away—is there anything more? + He was a good fellow, free-mouth'd, quick-temper'd, not bad-looking, + Ready with life or death for a friend, fond of women, gambled, ate hearty, drank hearty, + Had known what it was to be flush, grew low-spirited toward the last, sicken'd, was helped by a contribution, Died, aged forty-one years—and that was his funeral." +</pre> +<p>Let me read you another description, one of a woman:</p> +<pre> + "Behold a woman! + She looks out from her quaker cap, her face is clearer and more beautiful than the sky. + She sits in an armchair under the shaded porch of the farmhouse, + The sun just shines on her old white head. + Her ample gown is of cream-hued linen, + Her grandsons raised the flax, and her granddaughters spun it with the distaff and the wheel. + The melodious character of the earth. + The finish beyond which philosophy cannot go and does not wish to go, + The justified mother of men." +</pre> +<p>Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight?</p> +<p>"Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? +List to the yarn, as my grandmother's father the sailor told it to +me. Our foe was no skulk in his ship I tell you, (said he,) His was +the surly English pluck, and there is no tougher or truer, and +never was, and never will be; Along the lower'd eve he came +horribly raking us. We closed with him, the yards entangled, the +cannon touch'd, My captain lash'd fast with his own hands. We had +receiv'd some eighteen pound shots under the water, On our lower +gun-deck two large pieces had burst at the first fire, killing all +around and blowing up overhead. Fighting at sun-down, fighting at +dark, Ten o'clock at night, the full moon well up, our leaks on the +gain, and five feet of water reported, The master-at-arms loosing +the prisoners confined in the after-hold to give them a chance for +themselves. The transit to and from the magazine is now stopt by +the sentinels, They see so many strange faces they do not know whom +to trust.</p> +<pre> + Our frigate takes fire, + The other asks if we demand quarter? + If our colors are struck and the fighting done? + Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, + 'We have not struck,' he composedly cries, 'we have just begun our part of the fighting.' + Only three guns are in use, + One is directed by the captain himself against the enemy's mainmast, + Two well serv'd with grape and canister silence his musketry and clear his decks. + The tops alone second the fire of this little battery, especially the main-top, + They hold out bravely during the whole of the action. + Not a moment's cease, + The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the powder-magazines. + One of the pumps has been shot away, it is generally thought we are sinking. + Serene stands the little captain, + He is not hurried, his voice is neither high nor low, + His eyes give more light to us than our battle-lanterns. + Toward twelve there in the beams of the moon the surrender to us. + Stretch'd and still lies the midnight, + Two great hulls motionless on the breast of the darkness. Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking, preparations to pass to the one we have conquer'd, + The captain on the quarter-deck coldly giving his orders through a countenance white as a sheet, + Near by the corpse of the child that serv'd in the cabin, The dead face of an old salt with long white hair and carefully curl'd whiskers, + The flames spite of all that can be done flickering aloft and below, + The husky voices of the two or three officers yet fit for duty, Formless stacks of bodies and bodies by themselves, dabs of flesh upon the masts and spars, + Cut of cordage, dangle of rigging, slight shock of the soothe of waves, + Black and impassive guns, litter of powder-parcels, strong scent, + A few large stars overhead, silent and mournful shining, Delicate sniffs of sea-breeze, smells of sedgy grass and fields by the shore, death-messages given in charge to survivors, + The hiss of the surgeon's knife, the gnawing teeth of his saw, + Wheeze, cluck, swash of falling blood, short wild scream, and long, dull, tapering groan." +</pre> +<p>Some people say that this is not poetry—that it lacks +measure and rhyme.</p> +<center>VIII. WHAT IS POETRY?</center> +<p>THE whole world is engaged in the invisible commerce of thought. +That is to say, in the exchange of thoughts by words, symbols, +sounds, colors and forms. The motions of the silent, invisible +world, where feeling glows and thought flames—that contains +all seeds of action—are made known only by sounds and colors, +forms, objects, relations, uses and qualities, so that the visible +universe is a dictionary, an aggregation of symbols, by which and +through which is carried on the invisible commerce of thought. Each +object is capable of many meanings, or of being used in many ways +to convey ideas or states of feeling or of facts that take place in +the world of the brain.</p> +<p>The greatest poet is the one who selects the best, the most +appropriate symbols to convey the best, the highest, the sublimest +thoughts. Each man occupies a world of his own. He is the only +citizen of his world. He is subject and sovereign, and the best he +can do is to give the facts concerning the world in which he lives +to the citizens of other worlds. No two of these worlds are alike. +They are of all kinds, from the flat, barren, and +uninteresting—from the small and shriveled and +worthless—to those whose rivers and mountains and seas and +constellations belittle and cheapen the visible world. The +inhabitants of these marvelous worlds have been the singers of +songs, utterers of great speech—the creators of art.</p> +<p>And here lies the difference between creators and imitators: the +creator tells what passes in his own world—the imitator does +not. The imitator abdicates, and by the fact of imitation falls +upon his knees. He is like one who, hearing a traveler talk, +pretends to others that he has traveled.</p> +<p>In nearly all lands, the poet has been privileged. For the sake +of beauty, they have allowed him to speak, and for that reason he +has told the story of the oppressed, and has excited the +indignation of honest men and even the pity of tyrants. He, above +all others, has added to the intellectual beauty of the world. He +has been the true creator of language, and has left his impress on +mankind.</p> +<p>What I have said is not only true of poetry—it is true of +all speech. All are compelled to use the visible world as a +dictionary. Words have been invented and are being invented, for +the reason that new powers are found in the old symbols, new +qualities, relations, uses and meanings. The growth of language is +necessary on account of the development of the human mind. The +savage needs but few symbols—the civilized many—the +poet most of all.</p> +<p>The old idea was, however, that the poet must be a rhymer. +Before printing was known, it was said: the rhyme assists the +memory. That excuse no longer exists.</p> +<p>Is rhyme a necessary part of poetry? In my judgment, rhyme is a +hindrance to expression. The rhymer is compelled to wander from his +subject, to say more or less than he means, to introduce irrelevant +matter that interferes continually with the dramatic action and is +a perpetual obstruction to sincere utterance.</p> +<p>All poems, of necessity, must be short. The highly and purely +poetic is the sudden bursting into blossom of a great and tender +thought. The planting of the seed, the growth, the bud and flower +must be rapid. The spring must be quick and warm, the soil perfect, +the sunshine and rain enough—everything should tend to +hasten, nothing to delay. In poetry, as in wit, the crystallization +must be sudden.</p> +<p>The greatest poems are rhythmical. While rhyme is a hindrance, +rhythm seems to be the comrade of the poetic. Rhythm has a natural +foundation. Under emotion the blood rises and falls, the muscles +contract and relax, and this action of the blood is as rhythmical +as the rise and fall of the sea. In the highest form of expression +the thought should be in harmony with this natural ebb and +flow.</p> +<p>The highest poetic truth is expressed in rhythmical form. I have +sometimes thought that an idea selects its own words, chooses its +own garments, and that when the thought has possession, absolutely, +of the speaker or writer, he unconsciously allows the thought to +clothe itself.</p> +<p>The great poetry of the world keeps time with the winds and the +waves.</p> +<p>I do not mean by rhythm a recurring accent at accurately +measured intervals. Perfect time is the death of music. There +should always be room for eager haste and delicious delay, and +whatever change there may be in the rhythm or time, the action +itself should suggest perfect freedom.</p> +<p>A word more about rhythm. I believe that certain feelings and +passions—-joy, grief, emulation, revenge, produce certain +molecular movements in the brain—that every thought is +accompanied by certain physical phenomena. Now, it may be that +certain sounds, colors, and forms produce the same molecular action +in the brain that accompanies certain feelings, and that these +sounds, colors and forms produce first the molecular movements and +these in their turn reproduce the feelings, emotions and states of +mind capable of producing the same or like molecular movements. So +that what we call heroic music produces the same molecular action +in the brain—the same physical changes—that are +produced by the real feeling of heroism; that the sounds we call +plaintive produce the same molecular movement in the brain that +grief, or the twilight of grief, actually produces. There may be a +rhythmical molecular movement belonging to each state of mind, that +accompanies each thought or passion, and it may be that music, or +painting, or sculpture, produces the same state of mind or feeling +that produces the music or painting or sculpture, by producing the +same molecular movements.</p> +<p>All arts are born of the same spirit, and express like thoughts +in different ways—that is to say, they produce like states of +mind and feeling. The sculptor, the painter, the composer, the +poet, the orator, work to the same end, with different materials. +The painter expresses through form and color and relation; the +sculptor through form and relation. The poet also paints and +chisels—his words give form, relation and color. His statues +and his paintings do not crumble, neither do they fade, nor will +they as long as language endures. The composer touches the +passions, produces the very states of feeling produced by the +painter and sculptor, the poet and orator. In all these there must +be rhythm—that is to say, proportion—that is to say, +harmony, melody.</p> +<p>So that the greatest poet is the one who idealizes the common, +who gives new meanings to old symbols, who transfigures the +ordinary things of life. He must deal with the hopes and fears, and +with the experiences of the people.</p> +<p>The poetic is not the exceptional. A perfect poem is like a +perfect day. It has the undefinable charm of naturalness and ease. +It must not appear to be the result of great labor. We feel, in +spite of ourselves, that man does best that which he does +easiest.</p> +<p>The great poet is the instrumentality, not always of his time, +but of the best of his time, and he must be in unison and accord +with the ideals of his race. The sublimer he is, the simpler he is. +The thoughts of the people must be clad in the garments of +feeling—the words must be known, apt, familiar. The height +must be in the thought, in the sympathy.</p> +<p>In the olden time they used to have May day parties, and the +prettiest child was crowned Queen of May. Imagine an old blacksmith +and his wife looking at their little daughter clad in white and +crowned with roses. They would wonder while they looked at her, how +they ever came to have so beautiful a child. It is thus that the +poet clothes the intellectual children or ideals of the people. +They must not be gemmed and garlanded beyond the recognition of +their parents. Out from all the flowers and beauty must look the +eyes of the child they know.</p> +<p>We have grown tired of gods and goddesses in art. Milton's +heavenly militia excites our laughter. Light-houses have driven +sirens from the dangerous coasts. We have found that we do not +depend on the imagination for wonders—there are millions of +miracles under our feet.</p> +<p>Nothing can be more marvelous than the common and everyday facts +of life. The phantoms have been cast aside. Men and women are +enough for men and women. In their lives is all the tragedy and all +the comedy that they can comprehend.</p> +<p>The painter no longer crowds his canvas with the winged and +impossible—he paints life as he sees it, people as he knows +them, and in whom he is interested. "The Angelus," the perfection +of pathos, is nothing but two peasants bending their heads in +thankfulness as they hear the solemn sound of the distant +bell—two peasants, who have nothing to be thankful for, +nothing but weariness and want, nothing but the crusts that they +soften with their tears—nothing. And yet as you look at that +picture you feel that they have something besides to be thankful +for—that they have life, love, and hope—and so the +distant bell makes music in their simple hearts.</p> +<center>IX.</center> +<p>The attitude of Whitman toward religion has not been understood. +Toward all forms of worship, toward all creeds, he has maintained +the attitude of absolute fairness. He does not believe that Nature +has given her last message to man. He does not believe that all has +been ascertained. He denies that any sect has written down the +entire truth. He believes in progress, and so believing he +says:</p> +<pre> + "We consider Bibles and religions divine—I do not say they are not divine, + I say they have all grown out of you, and may grow out of you still, + It is not they who give the life, it is you who give the life." + + "His [the poet's] thoughts are the hymns of the praise of things, + In the dispute on God and eternity he is silent." + + "Have you thought there could be but a single supreme? + There can be any number of supremes—one does not countervail another + anymore than one eyesight countervails another." +</pre> +<p>Upon the great questions, as to the great problems, he feels +only the serenity of a great and well-poised soul:</p> +<pre> + "No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and about death. + I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least, + Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.... + In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass, + I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign'd by God's name." +</pre> +<p>The whole visible world is regarded by him as a revelation, and +so is the invisible world, and with this feeling he writes:</p> +<p>"Not objecting to special revelations—considering a curl +of smoke or a hair on the back of my hand just as curious as any +revelation."</p> +<p>The creeds do not satisfy, the old mythologies are not enough; +they are too narrow at best, giving only hints and suggestions; and +feeling this lack in that which has been written and preached, +Whitman says:</p> +<pre> + "Magnifying and applying come I, + Outbidding at the start the old cautious hucksters, + Taking myself the exact dimensions of Jehovah, Lithographing Kronos, + Zeus his son, and Hercules his grandson, + Buying drafts of Osiris, Isis, Belus, Brahma, Buddha, + In my portfolio placing Manito loose, Allah on a leaf, the crucifix engraved, + With Odin and the hideous-faced Mexitli, and every idol and image, + Taking them all for what they are worth, and not a cent more." +</pre> +<p>Whitman keeps open house. He is intellectually hospitable. He +extends his hand to a new idea. He does not accept a creed because +it is wrinkled and old and has a long white beard. He knows that +hypocrisy has a venerable look, and that it relies on looks and +masks, on stupidity and fear. Neither does he reject or accept the +new because it is new. He wants the truth, and so he welcomes all +until he knows just who and what they are.</p> +<center>X. PHILOSOPHY.</center> +<p>WALT WHITMAN is a philosopher. The more a man has thought, the +more he has studied, the more he has traveled intellectually, the +less certain he is. Only the very ignorant are perfectly satisfied +that they know. To the common man the great problems are easy. He +has no trouble in accounting for the universe. He can tell you the +origin and destiny of man and the why and the wherefore of things. +As a rule, he is a believer in special providence, and is egotistic +enough to suppose that everything that happens in the universe +happens in reference to him.</p> +<p>A colony of red ants lived at the foot of the Alps. It happened +one day that an avalanche destroyed the hill; and one of the ants +was heard to remark: "Who could have taken so much trouble to +destroy our home?"</p> +<p>Walt Whitman walked by the side of the sea "where the fierce old +mother endlessly cries for her castaways," and endeavored to think +out, to fathom the mystery of being; and he said:</p> +<pre> + "I too but signify at the utmost a little wash'd-up drift, + A few sands and dead leaves to gather, + Gather, and merge myself as part of the sands and drift. + Aware now that amid all that blab whose echoes recoil upon me + I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, + But that before all my arrogant poems the real Me stands yet untouch'd, + untold, altogether unreach'd, + Withdrawn far, mocking me with mock-congratulatory signs and bows, + With peals of distant ironical laughter at every word I have written, + Pointing in silence to these songs, and then to the sand beneath.... + I perceive I have not really understood any thing, not a single object, + and that no man ever can." +</pre> +<p>There is in our language no profounder poem than the one +entitled "Elemental Drifts."</p> +<p>The effort to find the origin has ever been, and will forever +be, fruitless. Those who endeavor to find the secret of life +resemble a man looking in the mirror, who thinks that if he only +could be quick enough he could grasp the image that he sees behind +the glass.</p> +<p>The latest word of this poet upon this subject is as +follows:</p> +<p>"To me this life with all its realities and functions is finally +a mystery, the real something yet to be evolved, and the stamp and +shape and life here somehow giving an important, perhaps the main +outline to something further. Somehow this hangs over everything +else, and stands behind it, is inside of all facts, and the +concrete and material, and the worldly affairs of life and sense. +That is the purport and meaning behind all the other meanings of +Leaves of Grass."</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, the questions of origin and destiny are +beyond the grasp of the human mind. We can see a certain distance; +beyond that, everything is indistinct; and beyond the indistinct is +the unseen. In the presence of these mysteries—and everything +is a mystery so far as origin, destiny, and nature are +concerned—the intelligent, honest man is compelled to say, "I +do not know."</p> +<p>In the great midnight a few truths like stars shine on forever, +and from the brain of man come a few struggling gleams of light, a +few momentary sparks.</p> +<p>Some have contended that everything is spirit; others that +everything is matter; and again, others have maintained that a part +is matter and a part is spirit; some that spirit was first and +matter after; others that matter was first and spirit after; and +others that matter and spirit have existed together.</p> +<p>But none of these people can by any possibility tell what matter +is, or what spirit is, or what the difference is between spirit and +matter.</p> +<p>The materialists look upon the spiritualists as substantially +crazy; and the spiritualists regard the materialists as low and +groveling. These spiritualistic people hold matter in contempt; +but, after all, matter is quite a mystery. Y ou take in your hand a +little earth—a little dust. Do you know what it is? In this +dust you put a seed; the rain falls upon it; the light strikes it; +the seed grows; it bursts into blossom; it produces fruit.</p> +<p>What is this dust—this womb? Do you understand it? Is +there anything in the wide universe more wonderful than this?</p> +<p>Take a grain of sand, reduce it to powder, take the smallest +possible particle, look at it with a microscope, contemplate its +every part for days, and it remains the citadel of a +secret—an impregnable fortress. Bring all the theologians, +philosophers, and scientists in serried ranks against it; let them +attack on every side with all the arts and arms of thought and +force. The citadel does not fall. Over the battlements floats the +flag, and the victorious secret smiles at the baffled hosts.</p> +<p>Walt Whitman did not and does not imagine that he has reached +the limit—the end of the road traveled by the human race. He +knows that every victory over nature is but the preparation for +another battle. This truth was in his mind when he said: +"Understand me well; it is provided in the essence of things, that +from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth +something to make a greater struggle necessary."</p> +<p>This is the generalization of all history.</p> +<center>XI. THE TWO POEMS.</center> +<p>THERE are two of these poems to which I will call special +attention. The first is entitled, "A Word Out of the Sea."</p> +<p>The boy, coming out of the rocked cradle, wandering over the +sands and fields, up from the mystic play of shadows, out of the +patches of briers and blackberries—from the memories of +birds—from the thousand responses of his heart—goes +back to the sea and his childhood, and sings a reminiscence.</p> +<p>Two guests from Alabama—two birds—build their nest, +and there were four light green eggs, spotted with brown, and the +two birds sang for joy:</p> +<pre> + "Shine! shine! shine! + Pour down your warmth, great sun! + While we bask, we two together. + Two together! + Winds blow south, or winds blow north, + Day come white, or night come black, . + Home, or rivers and mountains from home, + Singing all time, minding no time, + While we two keep together." +</pre> +<p>In a little while one of the birds is missed and never appeared +again, and all through the summer the mate, the solitary guest, was +singing of the lost:</p> +<pre> + "Blow! blow! blow! + Blow up sea-winds along Paumanok's shore; + I wait and I wait till you blow my mate to me." +</pre> +<p>And the boy that night, blending himself with the shadows, with +bare feet, went down to the sea, where the white arms out in the +breakers were tirelessly tossing; listening to the songs and +translating the notes.</p> +<p>And the singing bird called loud and high for the mate, +wondering what the dusky spot was in the brown and yellow, seeing +the mate whichever way he looked, piercing the woods and the earth +with his song, hoping that the mate might hear his cry; stopping +that he might not lose her answer; waiting and then crying again: +"Here I am! And this gentle call is for you. Do not be deceived by +the whistle of the wind; those are the shadows;" and at last +crying:</p> +<pre> + "O past! O happy life! O songs of joy! + In the air, in the woods, over fields, + Loved! loved! loved! loved! loved! + But my mate no more, no more with me! + We two together no more." +</pre> +<p>And then the 'boy, understanding the song that had awakened in +his breast a thousand songs clearer and louder and more sorrowful +than the birds, knowing that the cry of unsatisfied love would +never again be absent from him; thinking then of the destiny of +all, and asking of the sea the final word, and the sea answering, +delaying not and hurrying not, spoke the low delicious word +"Death!" "ever Death!"</p> +<p>The next poem, one that will live as long as our language, +entitled: "When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom'd," is on the +death of Lincoln,</p> +<pre> + "The sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands." +</pre> +<p>One who reads this will never forget the odor of the lilac, "the +lustrous western star" and "the gray-brown bird singing in the +pines and cedars."</p> +<p>In this poem the dramatic unities are perfectly preserved, the +atmosphere and climate in harmony with every event.</p> +<p>Never will he forget the solemn journey of the coffin through +day and night, with the great cloud darkening the land, nor the +pomp of inlooped flags, the processions long and winding, the +flambeaus of night, the torches' flames, the silent sea of faces, +the unbared heads, the thousand voices rising strong and solemn, +the dirges, the shuddering organs, the tolling bells—and the +sprig of lilac.</p> +<p>And then for a moment they will hear the gray-brown bird singing +in the cedars, bashful and tender, while the lustrous star lingers +in the west, and they will remember the pictures hung on the +chamber walls to adorn the burial house—pictures of spring +and farms and homes, and the gray smoke lucid and bright, and the +floods of yellow gold—of the gorgeous indolent sinking +sun—the sweet herbage under foot—the green leaves of +the trees prolific—the breast of the river with the +wind-dapple here and there, and the varied and ample land—and +the most excellent sun so calm and haughty—the violet and +purple morn with just-felt breezes—the gentle soft-born +measureless light—the miracle spreading, bathing +all—the fulfill'd noon—the coming eve delicious, and +the welcome night and the stars.</p> +<p>And then again they will hear the song of the gray-brown bird in +the limitless dusk amid the cedars and pines. Again they will +remember the star, and again the odor of the lilac.</p> +<p>But most of all, the song of the bird translated and becoming +the chant for death:</p> +<center>A CHANT FOR DEATH.</center> +<pre> + "Come lovely and soothing death, + Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, + In the day, in the night, to all, to each, + Sooner or later delicate death. + Prais'd be the fathomless universe, + For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious, + And for love, sweet love—but praise! praise! praise! + For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death. + Dark mother always gliding near with soft feet, + Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome? + Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee above all, + I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly. + Approach strong deliveress, + When it is so, when thou hast taken them I joyously sing the dead, + Lost in the loving floating ocean of thee, + Laved in the flood of thy bliss, O death. + From me to thee glad serenades, + Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and 'feastings for thee, + And the sights of the open landscape and the high spread sky are fitting, + And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night. + The night in silence under many a star, + The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know, + And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veil'd death, + And the body gratefully nestling close to thee. + Over the tree-tops I float thee a song, + Over the rising and sinking waves, over the myriad fields and the prairies wide, + Over the dense-pack'd cities all and the teeming wharves and ways, + I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee O death." +</pre> +<p>This poem, in memory of "the sweetest, wisest soul of all our +days and lands," and for whose sake lilac and star and bird +entwined, will last as long as the memory of Lincoln.</p> +<center>XII. OLD AGE.</center> +<p>WALT WHITMAN is not only the poet of childhood, of youth, of +manhood, but, above all, of old age. He has not been soured by +slander or petrified by prejudice; neither calumny nor flattery has +made him revengeful or arrogant. Now sitting by the fireside, in +the winter of life,</p> +<p>"His jocund heart still beating in his breast," he is just as +brave and calm and kind as in his manhood's proudest days, when +roses blossomed in his cheeks.</p> +<p>He has taken life's seven steps. Now, as the gamester might say, +"on velvet," he is enjoying "old age, expanded, broad, with the +haughty breadth of the universe; old age, flowing free, with the +delicious near-by freedom of death; old age, superbly rising, +welcoming the ineffable aggregation of dying days."</p> +<p>He is taking the "loftiest look at last," and before he goes he +utters thanks:</p> +<pre> + "For health, the midday sun, the impalpable air—for life, mere life, + For precious ever-lingering memories, + (of you my mother dear—you, father—you, brothers, sisters, friends,) + For all my days—not those of peace alone—the days of war the same, + For gentle words, caresses, gifts from foreign lands, + For shelter, wine and meat—for sweet appreciation, + (You distant, dim unknown—or young or old—countless, unspecified, + readers belov'd, + We never met, and ne'er shall meet—and yet our souls embrace, + long, close and long;) + For beings, groups, love, deeds, words, books—for colors, forms, + For all the brave strong men—devoted, hardy men—who've forward + sprung in freedom's help, all years, all lands, + For braver, stronger, more devoted men—(a special laurel ere I go, + to life's war's chosen ones, + The cannoneers of song and thought—the great artillerists— + the foremost leaders, captains of the soul:" +</pre> +<p>It is a great thing to preach philosophy—far greater to +live it. The highest philosophy accepts the inevitable with a +smile, and greets it as though it were desired.</p> +<p>To be satisfied: This is wealth—success.</p> +<p>The real philosopher knows that everything has happened that +could have happened—consequently he accepts. He is glad that +he has lived—glad that he has had his moment on the stage. In +this spirit Whitman has accepted life.</p> +<pre> + "I shall go forth, + I shall traverse the States awhile, but I cannot tell whither or how long, + Perhaps soon some day or night while I am singing my v + voice will suddenly cease. + O book, O chants! must all then amount to but this? + Must we barely arrive at this beginning of us?—and yet it is enough, O soul; + O soul, we have positively appear'd—that is enough." +</pre> +<p>Yes, Walt Whitman has appeared. He has his place upon the stage. +The drama is not ended. His voice is still heard. He is the Poet of +Democracy—of all people. He is the poet of the body and soul. +He has sounded the note of Individuality. He has given the +pass-word primeval. He is the Poet of Humanity—of +Intellectual Hospitality. He has voiced the aspirations of +America—and, above all, he is the poet of Love and Death.</p> +<p>How grandly, how bravely he has given his thought, and how +superb is his farewell—his leave-taking:</p> +<pre> + "After the supper and talk—after the day is done, + As a friend from friends his final withdrawal prolonging, + Good-bye and Good-bye with emotional lips repeating, + (So hard for his hand to release those hands—no more will they meet, + No more for communion of sorrow and joy, of old and young, + A far-stretching journey awaits him, to return no more,) + Shunning, postponing severance—seeking to ward off the last word ever so little, + E'en at the exit-door turning—charges superfluous calling back— + e'en as he descends the steps, + Something to eke out a minute additional—shadows of nightfall deepening, + Farewells, messages lessening—dimmer the forthgoer's visage and form, + Soon to be lost for aye in the darkness—loth, O so loth to depart!" +</pre> +<p>And is this all? Will the forthgoer be lost, and forever? Is +death the end? Over the grave bends Love sobbing, and by her side +stands Hope and whispers:</p> +<p>We shall meet again. Before all life is death, and after all +death is life. The falling leaf, touched with the hectic flush, +that testifies of autumn's death, is, in a subtler sense, a +prophecy of spring.</p> +<p>Walt Whitman has dreamed great dreams, told great truths and +uttered sublime thoughts. He has held aloft the torch and bravely +led the way.</p> +<p>As you read the marvelous book, or the person, called "Leaves of +Grass," you feel the freedom of the antique world; you hear the +voices of the morning, of the first great singers—voices +elemental as those of sea and storm. The horizon enlarges, the +heavens grow ample, limitations are forgotten—the realization +of the will, the accomplishment of the ideal, seem to be within +your power. Obstructions become petty and disappear. The chains and +bars are broken, and the distinctions of caste are lost. The soul +is in the open air, under the blue and stars—the flag of +Nature. Creeds, theories and philosophies ask to be examined, +contradicted, reconstructed. Prejudices disappear, superstitions +vanish and custom abdicates. The sacred places become highways, +duties and desires clasp hands and become comrades and friends. +Authority drops the scepter, the priest the mitre, and the purple +falls from kings. The inanimate becomes articulate, the meanest and +humblest things utter speech, and the dumb and voiceless burst into +song. A feeling of independence takes possession of the soul, the +body expands, the blood flows full and free, superiors vanish, +flattery is a lost art, and life becomes rich, royal, and superb. +The world becomes a personal possession, and the oceans, the +continents, and constellations belong to you. You are in the +center, everything radiates from you, and in your veins beats and +throbs the pulse of all life. You become a rover, careless and +free. You wander by the shores of all seas and hear the eternal +psalm. You feel the silence of the wide forest, and stand beneath +the intertwined and over-arching boughs, entranced with symphonies +of winds and woods. You are borne on the tides of eager and swift +rivers, hear the rush and roar of cataracts as they fall beneath +the seven-hued arch, and watch the eagles as they circling soar. +You traverse gorges dark and dim, and climb the scarred and +threatening cliffs. You stand in orchards where the blossoms fall +like snow, where the birds nest and sing, and painted moths make +aimless journeys through the happy air. You live the lives of those +who till the earth, and walk amid the perfumed fields, hear the +reapers' song, and feel the breadth and scope of earth and sky. You +are in the great cities, in the midst of multitudes, of the endless +processions. You are on the wide plains—the +prairies—with hunter and trapper, with savage and pioneer, +and you feel the soft grass yielding under your feet. You sail in +many ships, and breathe the free air of the sea. You travel many +roads, and countless paths. You visit palaces and prisons, +hospitals and courts; you pity kings and convicts, and your +sympathy goes out to all the suffering and insane, the oppressed +and enslaved, and even to the infamous. You hear the din of labor, +all sounds of factory, field, and forest, of all tools, instruments +and machines. You become familiar with men and women of all +employments, trades and professions—with birth and burial, +with wedding feast and funeral chant. You see the cloud and flame +of war, and you enjoy the ineffable perfect days of peace.</p> +<p>In this one book, in these wondrous "Leaves of Grass," you find +hints and suggestions, touches and fragments, of all there is of +life that lies between the babe, whose rounded cheeks dimple +beneath his mother's laughing, loving eyes, and the old man, +snow-crowned, who, with a smile, extends his hand to death.</p> +<p>We have met to-night to honor ourselves by honoring the author +of "Leaves of Grass."</p> +<a name="link0006" id="link0006"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>THE GREAT INFIDELS.*</h2> +<pre> + * This lecture is printed from notes found among Colonel + Ingersoll's papers, but was not revised by him for + publication. +</pre> +<p>I HAVE sometimes thought that it will not make great and +splendid character to rock children in the cradle of hypocrisy. I +do not believe that the tendency is to make men and women brave and +glorious when you tell them that there are certain ideas upon +certain subjects that they must never express; that they must go +through life with a pretence as a shield; that their neighbors will +think much more of them if they will only keep still; and that +above all is a God who despises one who honestly expresses what he +believes. For my part, I believe men will be nearer honest in +business, in politics, grander in art—in everything that is +good and grand and beautiful, if they are taught from the cradle to +the coffin to tell their honest opinion.</p> +<p>Neither do I believe thought to be dangerous.</p> +<p>It is incredible that only idiots are absolutely sure of +salvation. It is incredible that the more brain you have the less +your chance is. There can be no danger in honest thought, and if +the world ever advances beyond what it is to-day, it must be led by +men who express their real opinions.</p> +<p>We have passed midnight in the great struggle between Fact and +Faith, between Science and Superstition. The brand of intellectual +inferiority is now upon the orthodox brain. There is nothing +grander than to rescue from the leprosy of slander the reputation +of a good and generous man. Nothing can be nearer just than to +benefit our benefactors.</p> +<p>The Infidels of one age have been the aureoled saints of the +next. The destroyers of the old are the creators of the new. The +old passes away, and the new becomes old. There is in the +intellectual world, as in the material, decay and growth, and ever +by the grave of buried age stand youth and joy.</p> +<p>The history of intellectual progress is written in the lives of +Infidels. Political rights have been preserved by +traitors—the liberty of the mind by heretics. To attack the +king was treason—to dispute the priest was blasphemy. The +sword and cross were allies. They defended each other. The throne +and altar were twins—vultures from the same egg.</p> +<p>It was James I. who said: "No bishop, no king." He might have +said: "No cross, no crown."</p> +<p>The king owned the bodies, and the priest the souls, of men. One +lived on taxes, the other on alms. One was a robber, the other a +beggar, and each was both.</p> +<p>These robbers and beggars controlled two worlds. The king made +laws, the priest made creeds. With bowed backs the people received +the burdens of the one, and with wonder's open mouth the dogmas of +the other. If any aspired to be free they were crushed by the king, +and every priest was a Herod who slaughtered the children of the +brain. The king ruled by force, the priest by fear, and both by +both.</p> +<p>The king said to the people: "God made you peasants, and he made +me king. He made rags and hovels for you, robes and palaces for me. +Such is the justice of God." And the priest said: "God made you +ignorant and vile. He made me holy and wise. If you do not obey me, +God will punish you here and torment you hereafter. Such is the +mercy of God."</p> +<p>Infidels are intellectual discoverers. They sail the unknown +seas and find new isles and continents in the infinite realms of +thought.</p> +<p>An Infidel is one who has found a new fact, who has an idea of +his own, and who in the mental sky has seen another star.</p> +<p>He is an intellectual capitalist, and for that reason excites +the envy and hatred of the theological pauper.</p> +<p>The Origin of god and Heaven, Of the Devil and Hell.</p> +<p>IN the estimation of good orthodox Christians I am a criminal, +because I am trying to take from loving mothers, fathers, brothers, +sisters, husbands, wives, and lovers the consolations naturally +arising from a belief in an eternity of grief and pain. I want to +tear, break, and scatter to the winds the God that priests erected +in the fields of innocent pleasure—a God made of sticks +called creeds, and of old clothes called myths. I shall endeavor to +take from the coffin its horror, from the cradle its curse, and put +out the fires of revenge kindled by an infinite fiend.</p> +<p>Is it necessary that Heaven should borrow its light from the +glare of Hell?</p> +<p>Infinite punishment is infinite cruelty, endless injustice, +immortal meanness. To worship an eternal goaler hardens, debases, +and pollutes even the vilest soul. While there is one sad and +breaking heart in the universe, no good being can be perfectly +happy.</p> +<p>Against the heartlessness of the Christian religion every grand +and tender soul should enter solemn protest. The God of Hell should +be held in loathing, contempt and scorn. A God who threatens +eternal pain should be hated, not loved—cursed, not +worshiped. A heaven presided over by such a God must be below the +lowest hell. I want no part in any heaven in which the saved, the +ransomed and redeemed will drown with shouts of joy the cries and +sobs of hell—in which happiness will forget misery, where the +tears of the lost only increase laughter and double bliss.</p> +<p>The idea of hell was born of ignorance, brutality, fear, +cowardice, and revenge. This idea testifies that our remote +ancestors were the lowest beasts. Only from dens, lairs, and caves, +only from mouths filled with cruel fangs, only from hearts of fear +and hatred, only from the conscience of hunger and lust, only from +the lowest and most debased could come this most cruel, heartless +and bestial of all dogmas.</p> +<p>Our barbarian ancestors knew but little of nature. They were too +astonished to investigate. They could not divest themselves of the +idea that everything happened with reference to them; that they +caused storms and earthquakes; that they brought the tempest and +the whirlwind; that on account of something they had done, or +omitted to do, the lightning of vengeance leaped from the darkened +sky. They made up their minds that at least two vast and powerful +beings presided over this world; that one was good and the other +bad; that both of these beings wished to get control of the souls +of men; that they were relentless enemies, eternal foes; that both +welcomed recruits and hated deserters; that both demanded praise +and worship; that one offered rewards in this world, and the other +in the next. The Devil has paid cash—God buys on credit.</p> +<p>Man saw cruelty and mercy in nature, because he imagined that +phenomena were produced to punish or to reward him. When his poor +hut was torn and broken by the wind, he thought it a punishment. +When some town or city was swept away by flood or sea, he imagined +that the crimes of the inhabitants had been avenged. When the land +was filled with plenty, when the seasons were kind, he thought that +he had pleased the tyrant of the skies.</p> +<p>It must be remembered that both gods and devils were supposed to +be presided over by the greatest God and the greatest Devil. The +God could give infinite rewards and could inflict infinite +torments. The Devil could assist man here; could give him wealth +and place in this world, in consideration of owning his soul +hereafter. Each human soul was a prize contended for by these +deities. Of course this God and this Devil had innumerable spirits +at their command, to execute their decrees. The God lived in heaven +and the Devil in hell. Both were mon-archs and were infinitely +jealous of each other. The priests pretended to be the agents and +recruiting sergeants of this God, and they were duly authorized to +promise and threaten in his name; they had power to forgive and +curse. These priests sought to govern the world by force and fear. +Believing that men could be frightened into obedience, they +magnified the tortures and terrors of perdition. Believing also +that man could in part be influenced by the hope of reward, they +magnified the joys of heaven. In other words, they promised eternal +joy and threatened everlasting pain. Most of these priests, born of +the ignorance of the time, believed what they taught. They proved +that God was good by sunlight and harvest, by health and happiness; +that he was angry, by disease and death. Man, according to this +doctrine, was led astray by the Devil, who delighted only in evil. +It was supposed that God demanded worship; that he loved to be +flattered; that he delighted in sacrifice; that nothing made him +happier than to see ignorant faith upon its knees; that above all +things he hated and despised doubters and heretics, and that he +regarded all investigation as rebellion.</p> +<p>Now and then believers in these ideas, those who had gained +great reputation for learning and sanctity, or had enjoyed great +power, wrote books, and these books after a time were considered +sacred. Most of them were written to frighten mankind, and were +filled with threatenings and curses for unbelievers and promises +for the faithful. The more frightful the curses, the more +extravagant the promises, the more sacred the books were +considered. All of the gods were cruel and vindictive, unforgiving +and relentless, and the devils were substantially the same.</p> +<p>It was also believed that certain things must be accepted as +true, no matter whether they were reasonable or not; that it was +pleasing to God to believe a certain creed, especially if it +happened to be the creed of the majority. Each community felt it a +duty to see that the enemies of God were converted or killed. To +allow a heretic to live in peace was to invite the wrath of God. +Every public evil—every misfortune—was accounted for by +something the community had permitted or done. When epidemics +appeared, brought by ignorance and welcomed by filth, the heretic +was brought out and sacrificed to appease the vengeance of God. +From the knowledge they had—from their premises—they +reasoned well. They said, if God will inflict such frightful +torments upon us here, simply for allowing a few heretics to live, +what will he do with the heretics? Of course the heretics would be +punished forever. They knew how cruel was the barbarian king when +he had the traitor in his power. They had seen every horror that +man could inflict on man. Of course a God could do more than a +king. He could punish forever. The fires he would kindle never +could be quenched. The torments he would inflict would be eternal. +They thought the amount of punishment would be measured only by the +power of God.</p> +<p>These ideas were not only prevalent in what are called barbarous +times, but they are received by the religious world of to-day.</p> +<p>No death could be conceived more horrible than that produced by +flames. To these flames they added eternity, and hell was produced. +They exhausted the idea of personal torture.</p> +<p>By putting intention behind what man called good, God was +produced. By putting intention behind what man called bad, the +Devil was created. Leave this "intention" out, and gods and devils +fade away.</p> +<p>If not a human being existed the sun would continue to shine, +and tempests now and then would devastate the world; the rain would +fall in pleasant showers, and the bow of promise would adorn the +cloud; violets would spread their velvet bosoms to the sun, and the +earthquake would devour; birds would sing, and daisies bloom, and +roses blush, and the volcanoes would fill the heavens with their +lurid glare; the procession of the seasons would not be broken, and +the stars would shine just as serenely as though the world was +filled with loving hearts and happy homes. But in the olden time +man thought otherwise. He imagined that he was of great importance. +Barbarians are always egotistic. They think that the stars are +watching them; that the sun shines on their account; that the rain +falls for them, and that gods and devils are really troubling +themselves about their poor and ignorant souls.</p> +<p>In those days men fought for their God as they did for their +king. They killed the enemies of both. For this their king would +reward them here, and their God hereafter. With them it was loyalty +to destroy the disloyal. They did not regard God as a vague +"spirit," nor as an "essence" without body or parts, but as a +being, a person, an infinite man, a king, the monarch of the +universe, who had garments of glory for believers and robes of +flame for the heretic and infidel.</p> +<p>Do not imagine that this doctrine of hell belongs to +Christianity alone. Nearly all religions have had this dogma for a +corner-stone. Upon this burning foundation nearly all have built. +Over the abyss of pain rose the glittering dome of pleasure. This +world was regarded as one of trial. Here a God of infinite wisdom +experimented with man. Between the outstretched paws of the +Infinite the mouse, man, was allowed to play. Here man had the +opportunity of hearing priests and kneeling in temples. Here he +could read and hear read the sacred books. Here he could have the +example of the pious and the counsels of the holy. Here he could +build churches and cathedrals. Here he could burn incense, fast, +wear haircloth, deny himself all the pleasures of life, confess to +priests, count beads, be miserable one day in seven, make creeds, +construct instruments of torture, bow before pictures and images, +eat little square pieces of bread, sprinkle water on the heads of +babes, shut his eyes and say words to the clouds, and slander and +defame all who have the courage to despise superstition, and the +goodness to tell their honest thoughts. After death, nothing could +be done to make him better. When he should come into the presence +of God, nothing was left except to damn him. Priests might convert +him here, but God could do nothing there,—all of which shows +how much more a priest can do for a soul than its creator; how much +more potent is the example of your average Christian than that of +all the angels, and how much superior earth is to heaven for the +moral development of the soul. In heaven the Devil is not allowed +to enter. There all are pure and perfect, yet they cannot influence +a soul for good.</p> +<p>Only here, on the earth, where the Devil is constantly active, +only where his agents attack every soul, is there the slightest +hope of moral improvement.</p> +<p>Strange! that a world cursed by God, filled with temptations and +thick with fiends, should be the only place where hope exists, the +only place where man can repent, the only place where reform is +possible! Strange! that heaven, filled with angels and presided +over by God, is the only place where reformation is utterly +impossible! Yet these are the teachings of all the believers in the +eternity of punishment.</p> +<p>Masters frightened slaves with the threat of hell, and slaves +got a kind of shadowy revenge by whispering back the threat. The +poor have damned the rich and the rich the poor. The imprisoned +imagined a hell for their gaolers; the weak built this place for +the strong; the arrogant for their rivals; the vanquished for their +victors; the priest for the thinker, religion for reason, +superstition for science.</p> +<p>All the meanness, all the revenge, all the selfishness, all the +cruelty, all the hatred, all the infamy of which the heart of man +is capable, grew, blossomed and bore fruit in this one +word—Hell.</p> +<p>For the nourishment of this dogma cruelty was soil, ignorance +was rain, and fear was light.</p> +<p>Christians have placed upon the throne of the universe a God of +eternal hate. I cannot worship a being whose vengeance is +boundless, whose cruelty is shoreless, and whose malice is +increased by the agonies he inflicts.</p> +<center>THE APPEAL TO THE CEMETERY.</center> +<p>WHOEVER attacks a custom or a creed, will be confronted with a +list of the names of the dead who upheld the custom, or believed +the creed. He is asked in a very triumphant and sneering way, if he +knows more than all the great and honored of the past Every +defender of a creed has graven upon his memory the names of all +"great" men whose actions or words can be tortured into evidence +for his doctrine. The church is always anxious to have some king or +president certify to the moral character of Christ, the authority +of the Scriptures, and the justice of the Jewish God. Of late +years, confessions of gentlemen about to be hanged have been +considered of great value, and the scaffold is regarded as a means +of grace.</p> +<p>All the churches of our day seek the rich. They are no longer +the friends and defenders of the poor. Poverty no longer feels at +home in the house of God. In the Temple of the Most High, garments +out of fashion are considered out of place. People now, before +confessing to God what worthless souls they have, enrich their +bodies. Now words of penitence mingle with the rustle of silk, and +light thrown from diamonds adorns the repentant tear. We are told +that the rich, the fortunate, the holders of place and office, the +fashionable, the respectable, are all within the churches. And yet +all these people grow eloquent over the poverty of +Christ—boast that he was born in a manger—that the Holy +Ghost passed by all the ladies of titled wealth and fashion and +selected the wife of a poor and unknown mechanic for the Mother of +God.</p> +<p>They admit that all the men of Jerusalem who held high +positions—all the people of wealth, influence and +power—were the enemies of the Savior and held his pretensions +in contempt. They admit that he had influence only with the poor, +and that he was so utterly unknown—so indigent in +acquaintance, that it was necessary to bribe one of his disciples +to point him out to the police. They assert that he had done a +great number of miracles—had cured the sick, and raised the +dead—that he had preached to vast multitudes—had made a +kind of triumphal entry into Jerusalem—had scourged from the +temple the changers of money—had disputed with the +doctors—and yet, notwithstanding all these things, he +remained in the very depths of obscurity. Surely he and his +disciples could have been met with the argument that the "great" +dead were opposed to the new religion.</p> +<p>The apostles, it is claimed, preached the doctrines of Christ in +Rome and Athens, and the people of those cities could have used the +arguments against Christianity that Christians now use in its +support. They could have asked the apostles if they were wiser than +all the philosophers, poets, orators, and statesmen dead—if +they knew more, coming as they did from a weak and barbarous +nation, than the greatest men produced by the highest civilization +of the known world. With what scorn would the Greeks listen to a +barbarian's criticisms upon Socrates and Plato. How a Roman would +laugh to hear a vagrant Hebrew attack a mythology that had been +believed by Cato and Virgil.</p> +<p>Every new religion has to overcome this argument of the +cemetery—this logic of the grave. Old ideas take shelter +behind a barricade of corpses and tombstones. They have epitaphs +for battle-cries, and malign the living in the name of the dead. +The moment, however, that a new religion succeeds, it becomes the +old religion and uses the same argument against a new idea that it +once so gallantly refuted. The arguments used to-day against what +they are pleased to call infidelity would have shut the mouth of +every religious reformer, from Christ to the founder of the last +sect. The general objection to the new is, that it differs somewhat +from the old, and the fact that it does differ is urged as an +argument against its truth.</p> +<p>Every man is forced to admit that he does not agree with all the +great men, living or dead. The average Catholic, if not a priest, +as a rule will admit that Sir Isaac Newton was in some things his +superior, that Demosthenes had the advantage of him in expressing +his ideas in public, and that as a sculptor he is far below the +unknown man of whose hand and brain was born the Venus de Milo, but +he will not, on account of these admissions, change his views upon +the important question of transubstantiation.</p> +<p>Most Protestants will cheerfully admit that they are inferior in +brain and genius to some men who have lived and died in the +Catholic Church; that in the matter of preaching funeral sermons +they do not pretend to equal Bossuet; that their letters are not so +interesting and polished as those of Pascal; that Torquemada +excelled them in the genius of organization, and that for planning +a massacre they would not for a moment dispute the palm with +Catherine de Medici.</p> +<p>And yet, after all these admissions, they would insist that the +Pope is an unblushing impostor, and that the Catholic Church is a +vampire fattened by the best blood of a thousand years.</p> +<p>The truth is, that in favor of almost every sect, the names of +some great men can be pronounced. In almost every church there have +been men whose only weakness was their religion, and who in other +directions achieved distinction. If you call men great because they +were emperors, kings, noblemen, statesmen, +millionaires—because they commanded vast armies and wielded +great influence in their day, then more names can be found to +support and prop the Church of Rome than any other Christian +sect.</p> +<p>Is Protestantism willing to rest its claims upon the "great man" +argument? Give me the ideas, the religions, not that have been +advanced and believed by the so-called great of the past, but that +will be defended and believed by the great souls of the future.</p> +<p>It gives me pleasure to say that Lord Bacon was a great man; but +I do not for that reason abandon the Copernican system of +astronomy, and insist that the earth is stationary. Samuel Johnson +was an excellent writer of latinized English, but I am confident +that he never saw a real ghost. Matthew Hale was a reasonably good +judge of law, but he was mistaken about witches causing children to +vomit crooked pins. John Wesley was quite a man, in a kind of +religious way, but in this country few people sympathize with his +hatred of republican government, or with his contempt for the +Revolutionary Fathers. Sir Isaac Newton, in the domain of science, +was the colossus of his time, but his commentary on the book of +Revelation would hardly excite envy, even in the breast of a +Spurgeon or a Talmage. Upon many questions, the opinions of +Napoleon were of great value, and yet about his bed, when dying, he +wanted to see burning the holy candles of Rome. John Calvin has +been called a logician, and reasoned well from his premises, but +the burning of Servetus did not make murder a virtue. Luther +weakened somewhat the power of the Catholic Church, and to that +extent was a reformer, and yet Lord Brougham affirmed that his +"Table Talk" was so obscene that no respectable English publisher +would soil paper with a translation. He was a kind of religious +Rabelais; and yet a man can defend Luther in his attack upon the +church without justifying his obscenity. If every man in the +Catholic Church was a good man, that would not convince me that +Ignatius Loyola ever met and conversed with the Virgin Mary. The +fact is, very few men are right in everything. Great virtues may +draw attention from defects, but they cannot sanctify them. A +pebble surrounded by diamonds remains a common stone, and a diamond +surrounded by pebbles is still a gem. No one should attempt to +refute an argument by pronouncing the name of some man, unless he +is willing to adopt all the ideas and beliefs of that man. It is +better to give reasons and facts than names. An argument should not +depend for its force upon the name of its author. Facts need no +pedigree; logic has no heraldry, and the living should not be awed +by the mistakes of the dead.</p> +<p>The greatest men the world has produced have known but little. +They had a few facts, mingled with mistakes without number. In some +departments they towered above their fellows, while in others they +fell below the common level of mankind.</p> +<p>Daniel Webster had great respect for the Scriptures, but very +little for the claims of his creditors. Most men are strangely +inconsistent. Two propositions were introduced into the Confederate +Congress by the same man. One was to hoist the black flag, and the +other was to prevent carrying the mails on Sunday. George +Whitefield defended the slave trade, because it brought the negroes +within the sound of the gospel, and gave them the advantage of +associating with the gentlemen who stole them. And yet this same +Whitefield believed and taught the dogma of predestination. Volumes +might be written upon the follies and imbecilities of great men. A +full rounded man—a man of sterling sense and natural +logic—is just as rare as a great painter, poet, or sculptor. +If you tell your friend that he is not a painter, that he has no +genius for poetry, he will probably admit the truth of what you +say, without feeling that he has been insulted in the least. But if +you tell him that he is not a logician, that he has but little idea +of the value of a fact, that he has no real conception of what +evidence is, and that he never had an original thought in his life, +he will cut your acquaintance. Thousands of men are most wonderful +in mechanics, in trade, in certain professions, keen in business, +knowing well the men among whom they live, and yet satisfied with +religions infinitely stupid, with politics perfectly senseless, and +they will believe that wonderful things were common long ago, such +things as no amount of evidence could convince them had happened in +their day. A man may be a successful merchant, lawyer, doctor, +mechanic, statesman, or theologian without one particle of +originality, and almost without the ability to think logically upon +any subject whatever. Other men display in some directions the most +marvelous intellectual power, astonish mankind with their grasp and +vigor, and at the same time, upon religious subjects drool and +drivel like David at the gates of Gath.</p> +<center>SACRED BOOKS.</center> +<p>WE have found, at last, that other nations have sacred books +much older than our own, and that these books and records were and +are substantiated by traditions and monuments, by miracles and +martyrs, christs and apostles, as well as by prophecies fulfilled. +In all of these nations differences of opinion as to the +authenticity and meaning of these books arose from time to time, +precisely as they have done and still do with us, and upon these +differences were founded sects that manufactured creeds. These +sects denounced each other, and preached with the sword and +endeavored to convince with the fagot. Our theologians were greatly +astonished to find in other bibles the same stories, precepts, +laws, customs and commands that adorn and stain our own. At first +they accounted for this, by saying that these books were in part +copies of the Jewish Scriptures, mingled with barbaric myths. To +such an extent did they impose upon and insult probability, that +they declared that all the morality of the world, all laws +commanding right and prohibiting wrong, all ideas respecting the +unity of a Supreme Being, were borrowed from the Jews, who obtained +them directly from God. The Christian world asserts with warmth, +not always born of candor, that the Bible is the source, origin, +and fountain of law, liberty, love, charity, and justice; that it +is the intellectual and moral sun of the world; that it alone gives +happiness here, and alone points out the way to joy hereafter; that +it contains the only revelation from the Infinite; that all others +are the work of dishonest and mistaken men. They say these things +in spite of the fact that the Jewish nation was one of the weakest +and most barbaric of the past; in spite of the fact that the +civilization of Egypt and India had commenced to wane before that +of Palestine existed. To account for all the morality contained in +the sacred books of the Hindus, by saying that it was borrowed from +the wanderers in the Desert of Sinai, from the escaped slaves of +the Egyptians, taxes to the utmost the credulity of ignorance, +bigotry, and zeal.</p> +<p>The men who make these assertions are not superior to other men. +They have only the facts common to all, and they must admit that +these facts do not force the same conclusions upon all. They must +admit that men equally honest, equally well informed as themselves, +deny their premises and conclusions. They must admit that had they +been born and educated in some other country, they would have had a +different religion, and would have regarded with reverence and awe +the books they now hold as false and foolish. Most men are +followers, and implicitly rely upon the judgment of others. They +mistake solemnity for wisdom, and regard a grave countenance as the +titlepage and preface to a most learned volume. So they are easily +imposed upon by forms, strange garments, and solemn ceremonies. And +when the teaching of parents, the customs of neighbors, and the +general tongue approve and justify a belief or creed, no matter how +absurd, it is hard even for the strongest to hold the citadel of +his soul. In each country, in defence of each religion, the same +arguments would be urged. There is the same evidence in favor of +the inspiration of the Koran and Bible. Both are substantiated in +exactly the same way. It is just as wicked and unreasonable to be a +heretic in Constantinople as in New York. To deny the claims of +Christ and Mohammed is alike blasphemous. It all depends upon where +you are when you make the denial. No religion has ever fallen that +carried with it down to dumb death a solitary fact. Mistakes +moulder with the temples in which they were taught, and countless +superstitions sleep with their dead priests.</p> +<p>Yet Christians insist that the religions of all nations that +have fallen from wealth and power were false, with of course the +solitary exception of the Jewish, simply because the nations +teaching them dropped from their dying hands the swords of power. +This argument drawn from the fate of nations proves no more than +would one based upon the history of persons. With nations as with +individuals, the struggle for life is perpetual, and the law of the +survival of the fittest applies equally to both.</p> +<p>It may be that the fabric of our civilization will crumbling +fall to unmeaning chaos and to formless dust, where oblivion broods +and even memory forgets. Perhaps the blind Samson of some +imprisoned force, released by thoughtless chance, may so wreck and +strand the world that man, in stress and strain of want and fear, +will shudderingly crawl back to savage and barbaric night. The time +may come in which this thrilled and throbbing earth, shorn of all +life, will in its soundless orbit wheel a barren star, on which the +light will fall as fruitlessly as falls the gaze of love upon the +cold, pathetic face of death.</p> +<center>FEAR.</center> +<p>'T'HERE is a view quite prevalent, that in some way you can +prove whether the theories defended or advanced by a man are right +or not, by showing what kind of man he was, what kind of life he +lived, and what manner of death he died.</p> +<p>A man entertains certain opinions; he is persecuted. He refuses +to change his mind; he is burned, and in the midst of flames cries +out that he dies without change. Hundreds then say that he has +sealed his testimony with his blood, and his doctrines must be +true.</p> +<p>All the martyrs in the history of the world are not sufficient +to establish the correctness of an opinion. Martyrdom, as a rule, +establishes the sincerity of the martyr,—never the +correctness of his thought. Things are true or false in themselves. +Truth cannot be affected by opinions; it cannot be changed, +established, or affected by martyrdom. An error cannot be believed +sincerely enough to make it a truth.</p> +<p>No Christian will admit that any amount of heroism displayed by +a Mormon is sufficient to prove that Joseph Smith was divinely +inspired. All the courage and culture, all the poetry and art of +ancient Greece, do not even tend to establish the truth of any +myth.</p> +<p>The testimony of the dying concerning some other world, or in +regard to the supernatural, cannot be any better, to say the least, +than that of the living. In the early days of Christianity a serene +and intrepid death was regarded as a testimony in favor of the +church. At that time Pagans were being converted to +Christianity—were throwing Jupiter away and taking the Hebrew +God instead. In the moment of death many of these converts, without +doubt, retraced their steps and died in the faith of their +ancestors. But whenever one died clinging to the cross of the new +religion, this was seized upon as an evidence of the truth of the +gospel. After a time the Christians taught that an unbeliever, one +who spoke or wrote against their doctrines, could not meet death +with composure—that the infidel in his last moments would +necessarily be a prey to the serpent of remorse. For more than a +thousand years they have made the "facts" to fit this theory. +Crimes against men have been considered as nothing when compared +with a denial of the truth of the Bible, the divinity of Christ, or +the existence of God.</p> +<p>According to the theologians, God has always acted in this way. +As long as men did nothing except to render their fellows wretched; +as long as they only butchered and burnt the innocent and helpless, +God maintained the strictest and most heartless neutrality; but +when some honest man, some great and tender soul expressed a doubt +as to the truth of the Scriptures, or prayed to the wrong God, or +to the right one by the wrong name, then the real God leaped like a +wounded tiger upon his victim, and from his quivering flesh tore +his wretched soul.</p> +<p>There is no recorded instance where the uplifted hand of murder +has been paralyzed—no truthful account in all the literature +of the world of the innocent being shielded by God. Thousands of +crimes are committed every day—men are this moment lying in +wait for their human prey—wives are whipped and crushed, +driven to insanity and death—little children begging for +mercy, lifting imploring, tear-filled eyes to the brutal faces of +fathers and mothers—sweet girls are deceived, lured, and +outraged, but God has no time to prevent these things—no time +to defend the good and to protect the pure. He is too busy +numbering hairs and watching sparrows.</p> +<p>He listens for blasphemy; looks for persons who laugh at +priests; examines baptismal registers; watches professors in +colleges who begin to doubt the geology of Moses and the astronomy +of Joshua. He does not particularly object to stealing if you won't +swear. A great many persons have fallen dead in the act of taking +God's name in vain, but millions of men, women, and children have +been stolen from their homes and used as beasts of burden, but no +one engaged in this infamy has ever been touched by the wrathful +hand of God.</p> +<p>All kinds of criminals, except infidels, meet death with +reasonable serenity. As a rule, there is nothing in the death of a +pirate to cast any discredit on his profession. The murderer upon +the scaffold, with a priest on either side, smilingly exhorts the +multitude to meet him in heaven. The man who has succeeded in +making his home a hell, meets death without a quiver, provided he +has never expressed any doubt as to the divinity of Christ, or the +eternal "procession" of the Holy Ghost. The king who has waged +cruel and useless war, who has filled countries with widows and +fatherless children, with the maimed and diseased, and who has +succeeded in offering to the Moloch of ambition the best and +bravest of his subjects, dies like a saint.</p> +<p>The Emperor Constantine, who lifted Christianity into power, +murdered his wife Fausta, and his eldest son Crispus, the same year +that he convened the Council of Nice to decide whether Jesus Christ +was a man or the Son of God. The council decided that Christ was +consubstantial with the Father. This was in the year 325. We are +thus indebted to a wife-murderer for settling the vexed question of +the divinity of the Savior. Theodosius called a council at +Constantinople in 381, and this council decided that the Holy Ghost +proceeded from the Father. Theodosius, the younger, assembled +another council at Ephesus to ascertain who the Virgin Mary really +was, and it was solemnly decided in the year 431 that she was the +Mother of God. In 451 it was decided by a council held at +Chalcedon, called together by the Emperor Marcian, that Christ had +two natures—the human and divine. In 680, in another general +council, held at Constantinople, convened by order of Pognatius, it +was also decided that Christ had two wills, and in the year 1274 it +was decided at the Council of Lyons, that the Holy Ghost proceeded +not only from the Father, but from the Son as well. Had it not been +for these councils, we might have been without a Trinity even unto +this day. When we take into consideration the fact that a belief in +the Trinity is absolutely essential to salvation, how unfortunate +it was for the world that this doctrine was not established until +the year 1274. Think of the millions that dropped into hell while +these questions were being discussed.</p> +<p>This, however, is a digression. Let us go back to Constantine. +This Emperor, stained with every crime, is supposed to have died +like a Christian. We hear nothing of fiends leering at him in the +shadows of death. He does not see the forms of his murdered wife +and son covered with the blood he shed. From his white and +shrivelled lips issued no shrieks of terror. He does not cover his +glazed eyes with thin and trembling hands to shut out the visions +of hell. His chamber is filled with the rustle of wings—of +wings waiting to bear his soul to the thrilling realms of joy.</p> +<p>Against the Emperor Constantine the church has hurled no +anathema. She has accepted the story of his vision in the clouds, +and his holy memory has been guarded by priest and pope. All the +persecutors sleep in peace, and the ashes of those who burned their +brothers in the name of Christ rest in consecrated ground. Whole +libraries could not contain even the names of the wretches who have +filled the world with violence and death in defence of book and +creed, and yet they all died the death of the righteous, and no +priest or minister describes the agony and fear, the remorse and +horror, with which their guilty souls were filled in the last +moments of their lives. These men had never doubted—they +accepted the creed—they were not infidels—they had not +denied the divinity of Christ—they had been +baptized—they had partaken of the Last Supper—they had +respected priests—they admitted that the Holy Ghost had +"proceeded," and these things put pillows beneath their dying +heads, and covered them with the drapery of peace.</p> +<p>Now and then, in the history of this world, a man of genius, of +sense, of intellectual honesty has appeared. These men have +denounced the superstitions of their day. They pitied the +multitude. To see priests devour the substance of the people filled +them with indignation. These men were honest enough to tell their +thoughts. Then they were denounced, tried, condemned, executed. +Some of them escaped the fury of the people who loved their +enemies, and died naturally in their beds.</p> +<p>It would not do for the church to admit that they died +peacefully. That would show that religion was not actually +necessary in the last moment. Religion got much of its power from +the terror of death.</p> +<center>THE DEATH TEST.</center> +<p>YOU had better live well and die wicked.</p> +<p>You had better live well and die cursing than live badly and die +praying.</p> +<p>It would not do to have the common people understand that a man +could deny the Bible, refuse to look at the cross, contend that +Christ was only a man, and yet die as calmly as Calvin did after he +had murdered Servetus, or as did King David after advising one son +to kill another.</p> +<p>The church has taken great pains to show that the last moments +of all infidels (that Christians did not succeed in burning) were +infinitely wretched and despairing. It was alleged that words could +not paint the horrors that were endured by a dying infidel. Every +good Christian was expected to, and generally did, believe these +accounts. They have been told and retold in every pulpit of the +world. Protestant ministers have repeated the inventions of +Catholic priests, and Catholics, by a kind of theological comity, +have sworn to the falsehoods told by Protestants. Upon this point +they have always stood together, and will as long as the same +calumny can be used by both.</p> +<p>Upon the death-bed subject the clergy grow eloquent. When +describing the shudderings and shrieks of the dying unbeliever, +their eyes glitter with delight.</p> +<p>It is a festival.</p> +<p>They are no longer men. They become hyenas. They dig open +graves. They devour the reputations of the dead.</p> +<p>It is a banquet.</p> +<p>Unsatisfied still, they paint the terrors of hell. They gaze at +the souls of the infidels writhing in the coils of the worm that +never dies. They see them in flames—in oceans of +fire—in gulfs of pain—in abysses of despair. They shout +with joy. They applaud.</p> +<p>It is an <i>auto da fe</i>, presided over by God and his +angels.</p> +<p>The men they thus describe were not atheists; they were all +believers in God, in special providence, and in the immortality of +the soul. They believed in the accountability of man—in the +practice of virtue, in justice, and liberty, but they did not +believe in that collection of follies and fables called the +Bible.</p> +<p>In order to show that an infidel must die overwhelmed with +remorse and fear, they have generally selected from all the +"unbelievers" since the day of Christ five men—the Emperor +Julian, Spinoza, Voltaire, Diderot, David Hume, and Thomas +Paine.</p> +<p>Hardly a minister in the United States has attempted to "answer" +me without referring to the death of one or more of these men.</p> +<p>In vain have these calumniators of the dead been called upon to +prove their statements. In vain have rewards been offered to any +priestly maligner to bring forward the evidence.</p> +<p>Let us once for all dispose of these slanders—of these +pious calumnies.</p> +<center>JULIAN.</center> +<p>THEY say that the Emperor Julian was an apostate that he was +once a Christian; that he fell from grace, and that in his last +moments, throwing some of his own blood into the air, he cried out +to Jesus Christ, "Galilean, thou hast conquered!"</p> +<p>It must be remembered that the Christians had persecuted and +imprisoned this very Julian; that they had exiled him; that they +had threatened him with death. Many of his relatives were murdered +by the Christians. He became emperor, and Christians conspired to +take his life. The conspirators were discovered and they were +pardoned. He did what he could to prevent the Christians from +destroying each other. He held pomp and pride and luxury in +contempt, and led his army on foot, sharing the privations of the +meanest soldier.</p> +<p>Upon ascending the throne he published an edict proclaiming +universal religious toleration. He was then a Pagan. It is claimed +by some that he never did entirely forget his Christian education. +In this I am inclined to think there is some truth, because he +revoked his edict of toleration, and for a time was nearly as +unjust as though he had been a saint. He was emperor one year and +seven months. In a battle with the Persians he was mortally +wounded. "Brought back to his tent, and feeling that he had but a +short time to live, he spent his last hours in discoursing with his +friends on the immortality of the soul. He reviewed his reign and +declared that he was satisfied with his conduct, and had neither +penitence nor remorse to express for anything that he had done." +His last words were: "I submit willingly to the eternal decrees of +heaven, convinced that he who is captivated with life, when his +last hour has arrived is more weak and pusillanimous than he who +would rush to voluntary death when it is his duty still to +live."</p> +<p>When we remember that a Christian emperor murdered Julian's +father and most of his kindred, and that he narrowly escaped the +same fate, we can hardly blame him for having a little prejudice +against a church whose members were fierce, ignorant, and +bloody—whose priests were hypocrites, and whose bishops were +assassins. If Julian had said he was a Christian—no matter +what he actually was, he would have satisfied the church.</p> +<p>The story that the dying emperor acknowledged that he was +conquered by the Galilean was originated by some of the so-called +Fathers of the Church, probably by Gregory or Theodoret. They are +the same wretches who said that Julian sacrificed a woman to the +moon, tearing out her entrails with his own hands. We are also +informed by these hypocrites that he endeavored to rebuild the +temple of Jerusalem, and that fire came out of the earth and +consumed the laborers employed in the sacrilegious undertaking.</p> +<p>I did not suppose that an intelligent man could be found in the +world who believed this childish fable, and yet in the January +number for 1880, of the <i>Princeton Review</i>, the Rev. Stuart +Robinson (whoever he may be) distinctly certifies to the truth of +this story. He says: "Throughout the entire era of the planting of +the Christian Church, the gospel preached was assailed not only by +the malignant fanaticism of the Jew and the violence of Roman +statecraft, but also by the intellectual weapons of philosophers, +wits, and poets. Now Celsus denounced the new religion as base +imposture. Now Tacitus described it as but another phase of the +<i>odium generis humani. Now Julian proposed to bring into contempt +the prophetic claims of its founder by the practical test of +rebuilding the Temple</i>." Here then in the year of grace 1880 is +a Presbyterian preacher, who really believes that Julian tried to +rebuild the Temple, and that God caused fire to issue from the +earth and consume the innocent workmen.</p> +<p>All these stories rest upon the same foundation—the +mendacity of priests.</p> +<p>Julian changed the religion of the Empire, and diverted the +revenues of the church. Whoever steps between a priest and his +salary, will find that he has committed every crime. No matter how +often the slanders may be refuted, they will be repeated until the +last priest has lost his body and found his wings. These falsehoods +about Julian were invented some fifteen hundred years ago, and they +are repeated to-day by just as honest and just as respectable +people as those who told them at first. Whenever the church cannot +answer the arguments of an opponent, she attacks his character. She +resorts to falsehood, and in the domain of calumny she has stood +for fifteen hundred years without a rival.</p> +<p>The great Empire was crumbling to its fall. The literature of +the world was being destroyed by priests. The gods and goddesses +were driven from the earth and sky. The paintings were torn and +defaced. The statues were broken. The walls were left desolate, and +the niches empty. Art, like Rachel, wept for her children, and +would not be comforted. The streams and forests were deserted by +the children of the imagination, and the whole earth was barren, +poor and mean.</p> +<p>Christian ignorance, bigotry and hatred, in blind unreasoning +zeal, had destroyed the treasures of our race. Art was abhorred, +Knowledge was despised, Reason was an outcast. The sun was blotted +from the intellectual heaven, every star extinguished, and there +fell upon the world that shadow—that midnight,—known as +"The Dark Ages."</p> +<p>This night lasted for a thousand years.</p> +<p>The First Great Star—Herald of the Dawn—was +Bruno.</p> +<center>BRUNO.</center> +<p>THE night of the Middle Ages lasted for a thousand years. The +first star that enriched the horizon of this universal gloom was +Giordano Bruno. He was the herald of the dawn.</p> +<p>He was born in 1550, was educated for a priest, became a +Dominican friar. At last his reason revolted against the doctrine +of transubstantiation. He could not believe that the entire Trinity +was in a wafer, or in a swallow of wine. He could not believe that +a man could devour the Creator of the universe by eating a piece of +bread. This led him to investigate other dogmas of the Catholic +Church, and in every direction he found the same contradictions and +impossibilities supported, not by reason, but by faith.</p> +<p>Those who loved their enemies threatened his life. He was +obliged to flee from his native land, and he became a vagabond in +nearly every nation of Europe. He declared that he fought, not what +priests believed, but what they pretended to believe. He was driven +from his native country because of his astronomical opinions. He +had lost confidence in the Bible as a scientific work. He was in +danger because he had discovered a truth.</p> +<p>He fled to England. He gave some lectures at Oxford. He found +that institution controlled by priests. He found that they were +teaching nothing of importance—only the impossible and the +hurtful. He called Oxford "the widow of true learning." There were +in England, at that time, two men who knew more than the rest of +the world. Shakespeare was then alive.</p> +<p>Bruno was driven from England. He was regarded as a dangerous +man,—he had opinions, he inquired after reasons, he expressed +confidence in facts. He fled to France. He was not allowed to +remain in that country. He discussed things—that was enough. +The church said, "move on." He went to Germany. He was not a +believer—he was an investigator. The Germans wanted +believers; they regarded the whole Christian system as settled; +they wanted witnesses; they wanted men who would assert. So he was +driven from Germany.</p> +<p>He returned at last to his native land. He found himself without +friends, because he had been true, not only to himself, but to the +human race. But the world was false to him because he refused to +crucify the Christ of his own soul between the two thieves of +hypocrisy and bigotry. He was arrested for teaching that there are +other worlds than this; that many of the stars are suns, around +which other worlds revolve; that Nature did not exhaust all her +energies on this grain of sand called the earth. He believed in a +plurality of worlds, in the rotation of this, in the heliocentric +theory. For these crimes, and for these alone, he was imprisoned +for six years. He was kept in solitary confinement. He was allowed +no books, no friends, no visitors. He was denied pen and paper. In +the darkness, in the loneliness, he had time to examine the great +questions of origin, of existence, of destiny. He put to the test +what is called the goodness of God. He found that he could neither +depend upon man nor upon any deity. At last, the Inquisition +demanded him. He was tried, condemned, excommunicated and sentenced +to be burned. According to Professor Draper, he believed that this +world is animated by an intelligent soul—the cause of forms, +but not of matter; that it lives in all things, even in such as +seem not to live; that everything is ready to become organized; +that matter is the mother of forms, and then their grave; that +matter and the soul of things, together, constitute God. He was a +pantheist—that is to say, an atheist. He was a lover of +Nature,—a reaction from the asceticism of the church. He was +tired of the gloom of the monastery. He loved the fields, the +woods, the streams. He said to his brother-priests: Come out of +your cells, out of your dungeons: come into the air and light.</p> +<p>Throw away your beads and your crosses. Gather flowers; mingle +with your fellow-men; have wives and children; scatter the seeds of +joy; throw away the thorns and nettles of your creeds; enjoy the +perpetual miracle of life.</p> +<p>On the sixteenth day of February, in the year of grace 1600, by +"the triumphant beast," the Church of Rome, this philosopher, this +great and splendid man, was burned. He was offered his liberty if +he would recant. There was no God to be offended by his +recantation, and yet, as an apostle of what he believed to be the +truth, he refused this offer. To those who passed the sentence upon +him he said: "It is with greater fear that ye pass this sentence +upon me than I receive it." This man, greater than any naturalist +of his day; grander than the martyr of any religion, died willingly +in defence of what he believed to be the sacred truth. He was great +enough to know that real religion will not destroy the joy of life +on earth; great enough to know that investigation is not a +crime—that the really useful is not hidden in the mysteries +of faith. He knew that the Jewish records were below the level of +the Greek and Roman myths; that there is no such thing as special +providence; that prayer is useless; that liberty and necessity are +the same, and that good and evil are but relative.</p> +<p>He was the first real martyr,—neither frightened by +perdition, nor bribed by heaven. He was the first of all the world +who died for truth without expectation of reward. He did not +anticipate a crown of glory. His imagination had not peopled the +heavens with angels waiting for his soul. He had not been promised +an eternity of joy if he stood firm, nor had he been threatened +with the fires of hell if he wavered and recanted. He expected as +his reward an eternal nothing! Death was to him an everlasting +end—nothing beyond but a sleep without a dream, a night +without a star, without a dawn—nothing but extinction, blank, +utter, and eternal. No crown, no palm, no "well done, good and +faithful servant," no shout of welcome, no song of praise, no smile +of God, no kiss of Christ, no mansion in the fair skies—not +even a grave within the earth—nothing but ashes, wind-blown +and priest-scattered, mixed with earth and trampled beneath the +feet of men and beasts.</p> +<p>The murder of this man will never be completely and perfectly +avenged until from Rome shall be swept every vestige of priest and +pope, until over the shapeless ruin of St. Peter's, the crumbled +Vatican and the fallen cross, shall rise a monument to +Bruno,—the thinker, philosopher, philanthropist, atheist, +martyr.</p> +<center>THE CHURCH IN THE TIME OF VOLTAIRE.</center> +<p>WHEN Voltaire was born, the natural was about the only thing in +which the church did not believe. The monks sold little amulets of +consecrated paper. They would cure diseases. If laid in a cradle +they would prevent a child being bewitched. So, they could be put +into houses and barns to keep devils away, or buried in a field to +prevent bad weather, to delay frost, and to insure good crops. +There was a regular formulary by which they were made, ending with +a prayer, after which the amulets were sprinkled with holy water. +The church contended that its servants were the only legitimate +physicians. The priests cured in the name of the church, and in the +name of God, by exorcism, relics, water, salt, and oil. St. +Valentine cured epilepsy, St. Gervasius was good for rheumatism, +St. Michael de Sanatis for cancer, St. Judas for coughs, St. +Ovidius for deafness, St. Sebastian for poisonous bites, St. +Apollonia for toothache, St. Clara for rheum in the eye, St. Hubert +for hydrophobia. Devils were driven out with wax tapers, with +incense, with holy water, by pronouncing prayers. The church, as +late as the middle of the twelfth century, prohibited good +Catholics from having anything to do with physicians.</p> +<p>It was believed that the devils produced storms of wind, of rain +and of fire from heaven; that the atmosphere was a battlefield +between angels and devils; that Lucifer had power to destroy fields +and vineyards and dwellings, and the principal business of the +church was to protect the people from the Devil. This was the +origin of church bells. These bells were sprinkled with holy water, +and their clangor cleared the air of imps and fiends. The bells +also prevented storms and lightning. The church used to +anathematize insects. In the sixteenth century, regular suits were +commenced against rats, and judgment was rendered. Every monastery +had its master magician, who sold magic incense, salt, and tapers, +consecrated palms and relics.</p> +<p>Every science was regarded as an outcast, an enemy. Every fact +held the creed of the church in scorn. Investigators were enemies +in disguise. Thinkers were traitors, and the church exerted its +vast power for centuries to prevent the intellectual progress of +man. There was no liberty, no education, no philosophy, no science; +nothing but credulity, ignorance, and superstition. The world was +really under the control of Satan and his agents. The church, for +the purpose of increasing her power, exhausted every means to +convince the people of the existence of witches, devils, and +fiends. In this way the church had every enemy within her power. +She simply had to charge him with being a wizard, of holding +communication with devils, and the ignorant mob were ready to tear +him to pieces.</p> +<p>To such an extent was this frightful course pursued, and such +was the prevalence of the belief in the supernatural, that the +worship of the devil was absolutely established. The poor people, +brutalized by the church, filled with fear of Satanic influence, +finding that the church did not protect, as a last resort began to +worship the Devil. The power of the Devil was proven by the Bible. +The history of Job, the temptation of Christ in the desert, the +carrying of Christ to the top of the temple, and hundreds of other +instances, were relied upon as establishing his power; and when +people laughed about witches riding upon anointed sticks in the +air, invisible, they were reminded of a like voyage when the Devil +carried Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple.</p> +<p>This frightful doctrine filled every friend with suspicion of +his friend. It the husband denounce the wife, the children the +parents, and the parents the children It destroyed all the sweet +relations of humanity. It did away with justice in the courts. It +destroyed the charity of religion. It broke the bond of friendship. +It filled with poison the golden cup of life. It turned earth into +a very hell, peopled with ignorant, tyrannical, and malicious +demons.</p> +<p>Such was the result of a few centuries of Christianity. Such was +the result of a belief in the supernatural. Such was the result of +giving up the evidence of our own senses, and relying upon dreams, +visions, and fears. Such was the result of destroying human reason, +of depending upon the supernatural, of living here for another +world instead of for this, of depending upon priests instead of +upon ourselves. The Protestants vied with the Catholics. Luther +stood side by side with the priests he had deserted, in promoting +this belief in devils and fiends. To the Catholic, every Protestant +was possessed by a devil. To the Protestant, every Catholic was the +homestead of a fiend. All order, all regular succession of causes +and effects, were known no more. The natural ceased to exist. The +learned and the ignorant were on a level. The priest had been +caught in the net spread for the peasant, and Christendom was a +vast madhouse, with insane priests for keepers.</p> +<center>VOLTAIRE</center> +<p>WHEN Voltaire was born, the church ruled and owned France. It +was a period of almost universal corruption. The priests were +mostly libertines. The judges were nearly as cruel as venal. The +royal palace was simply a house of assignation. The nobles were +heartless, proud, arrogant, and cruel to the last degree. The +common people were treated as beasts. It took the church a thousand +years to bring about this happy condition of things.</p> +<p>The seeds of the revolution unconsciously were being scattered +by every noble and by every priest. They germinated in the hearts +of the helpless. They were watered by the tears of agony. Blows +began to bear interest. There was a faint longing for blood. +Workmen, blackened by the sun, bent by labor, looked at the white +throats of scornful ladies and thought about cutting them.</p> +<p>In those days witnesses were cross-examined with instruments of +torture. The church was the arsenal of superstition. Miracles, +relics, angels and devils were as common as rags. Voltaire laughed +at the evidences, attacked the pretended facts, held the Bible up +to ridicule, and filled Europe with indignant protests against the +cruelty, bigotry, and injustice of the time.</p> +<p>He was a believer in God, and in some ingenious way excused this +God for allowing the Catholic Church to exist. He had an idea that, +originally, mankind were believers in one God, and practiced all +the virtues. Of course this was a mistake. He imagined that the +church had corrupted the human race. In this he was right.</p> +<p>It may be that, at one time, the church relatively stood for +progress, but when it gained power, it became an obstruction. The +system of Voltaire was contradictory. He described a being of +infinite goodness, who not only destroyed his children with +pestilence and famine, but allowed them to destroy each other. +While rejecting the God of the Bible, he accepted another God, who, +to say the least, allowed the innocent to be burned for love of +him.</p> +<p>Voltaire hated tyranny, and loved liberty. His arguments to +prove the existence of a God were just as groundless as those of +the reverend fathers of his day to prove the divinity of Christ, or +that Mary was the mother of God. The theologians of his time +maligned and feared him. He regarded them as a spider does flies. +He spread nets for them. They were caught, and he devoured them for +the amusement and benefit of the public. He was educated by the +Jesuits, and sometimes acted like one.</p> +<p>It is fashionable to say that he was not profound, This is +because he was not stupid. In the presence of absurdity he laughed, +and was called irreverent. He thought God would not damn even a +priest forever: this was regarded as blasphemy. He endeavored to +prevent Christians from murdering each other and did what he could +to civilize the disciples of Christ. Had he founded a sect, +obtained control of some country, and burned a few heretics at slow +fires, he would have won the admiration, respect and love of the +Christian world. Had he only pretended to believe all the fables of +antiquity, had he mumbled Latin prayers, counted beads, crossed +himself, devoured the flesh of God, and carried fagots to the feet +of philosophy in the name of Christ, he might have been in heaven +this moment, enjoying a sight of the damned.</p> +<p>Instead of doing these things, he willfully closed his eyes to +the light of the gospel, examined the Bible for himself, advocated +intellectual liberty, struck from the brain the fetters of an +arrogant faith, assisted the weak, cried out against the torture of +man, appealed to reason, endeavored to establish universal +toleration, succored the indigent, and defended the oppressed.</p> +<p>These were his crimes. Such a man God would not suffer to die in +peace. If allowed to meet death with a smile, others might follow +his example, until none would be left to light the holy fires of +the auto da fe. It would not do for so great, so successful an +enemy of the church, to die without leaving some shriek of fear, +some shudder of remorse, some ghastly prayer of chattered horror, +uttered by lips covered with blood and foam.</p> +<p>He was an old man of eighty-four. He had been surrounded with +the comforts of life; he was a man of wealth, of genius. Among the +literary men of the world he stood first. God had allowed him to +have the appearance of success. His last years were filled with the +intoxication of flattery. He stood at the summit of his age.</p> +<p>The priests became anxious. They began to fear that God would +forget, in a multiplicity of business, to make a terrible example +of Voltaire.</p> +<p>Toward the last of May, 1778, it was whispered in Paris that +Voltaire was dying. Upon the fences of expectation gathered the +unclean birds of superstition, impatiently waiting for their +prey.</p> +<p>"Two days before his death, his nephew went to seek the +curé of Saint Sulpice and the Abbé Gautier and +brought them into his uncle's sick chamber, who was informed that +they were there. 'Ah, well!' said Voltaire, 'give them my +compliments and my thanks.' The Abbé spoke some words to +him, exhorting him to patience. The curé of Saint Sulpice +then came forward, having announced himself, and asked of Voltaire, +elevating his voice, if he acknowledged the divinity of our Lord +Jesus Christ. The sick man pushed one of his hands against the +curé's coif, shoving him back, and cried, turning abruptly +to the other side, 'Let me die in peace.' The curé seemingly +considered his person soiled, and his coif dishonored, by the touch +of the philosopher. He made the nurse give him a little brushing, +and went out with the Abbé Gautier."</p> +<p>He expired, says Wagniere, on the 30th of May, 1778, at about a +quarter past eleven at night, with the most perfect tranquillity. +Ten minutes before his last breath he took the hand of Morand, his +<i>valet de chambre</i>, who was watching by him, pressed it and +said: "Adieu, my dear Morand, I am gone." These were his last +words.</p> +<p>From this death, so simple and serene, so natural and peaceful; +from these words so utterly destitute of cant or dramatic touch, +all the frightful pictures, all the despairing utterances, have +been drawn and made. From these materials, and from these alone, +have been constructed all the shameless lies about The death of +this great and wonderful man, compared with whom all of his +calumniators, dead and living, were and are but dust and +vermin.</p> +<p>Voltaire was the intellectual autocrat of his time. From his +throne at the foot of the Alps he pointed the finger of scorn at +every hypocrite in Europe. He was the pioneer of his century. He +was the assassin of superstition. He left the quiver of ridicule +without an arrow. Through the shadows of faith and fable, through +the darkness of myth and miracle, through the midnight of +Christianity, through the blackness of bigotry, past cathedral and +dungeon, past rack and stake, past altar and throne, he carried, +with chivalric hands, the sacred torch of reason.</p> +<center>DIDEROT.</center> +<center>DOUBT IS THE FIRST STEP TOWARD TRUTH.</center> +<p>DIDEROT was born in 1713. His parents were in what may be called +the humbler walks of life. Like Voltaire he was educated by the +Jesuits. He had in him something of the vagabond, and was for +several years almost a beggar in Paris. He was endeavoring to live +by his pen. In that day and generation, a man without a patron, +endeavoring to live by literature, was necessarily almost a beggar. +He nearly starved—frequently going for days without food. +Afterward, when he had something himself, he was as generous as the +air. No man ever was more willing to give, and no man less willing +to receive, than Diderot.</p> +<p>He wrote upon all conceivable subjects, that he might have +bread. He even wrote sermons, and regretted it all his life. He and +D'Alembert were the life and soul of the Encyclopaedia. With +infinite enthusiasm he helped to gather the knowledge of the world +for the use of each and all. He harvested the fields of thought, +separated the grain from the straw and chaff, and endeavored to +throw away the seeds and fruit of superstition. His motto was, +"<i>Incredulity is the first step towards philosophy</i>."</p> +<p>He had the vices of most Christians—was nearly as immoral +as the majority of priests. His vices he shared in common, his +virtues were his own. All who knew him united in saying that he had +the pity of a woman, the generosity of a prince, the self-denial of +an anchorite, the courage of Cæsar, and the enthusiasm of a +poet. He attacked with every power of his mind the superstition of +his day. He said what he thought. The priests hated him. He was in +favor of universal education—the church despised it. He +wished to put the knowledge of the whole world within reach of the +poorest.</p> +<p>He wished to drive from the gate of the Garden of Eden the +cherubim of superstition, so that the child of Adam might return to +eat once more the fruit of the tree of knowledge. Every Catholic +was his enemy. His poor little desk was ransacked by the police +searching for manuscripts in which something might be found that +would justify the imprisonment of such a dangerous man. Whoever, in +1750, wished to increase the knowledge of mankind was regarded as +the enemy of social order.</p> +<p>The intellectual superstructure of France rests upon the +Encyclopaedia. The knowledge given to the people was the impulse, +the commencement, of the revolution that left the church without an +altar and the king without a throne. Diderot thought for himself, +and bravely gave his thoughts to others. For this reason he was +regarded as a criminal. He did not expect his reward in another +world. He did not do what he did to please some imaginary God. He +labored for mankind. He wished to lighten the burdens of those who +should live after him. Hear these noble words:</p> +<p>"The more man ascends through the past, and the more he launches +into the future, the greater he will be, and all these philosophers +and ministers and truth-telling men who have fallen victims to the +stupidity of nations, the atrocities of priests, the fury of +tyrants, what consolation was left for them in death? This: That +prejudice would pass, and that posterity would pour out the vial of +ignominy upon their enemies. O Posterity! Holy and sacred stay of +the unhappy and the oppressed; thou who art just, thou who art +incorruptible, thou who findest the good man, who unmaskest the +hypocrite, who breakest down the tyrant, may thy sure faith, thy +consoling faith never, never abandon me!" Posterity is for the +philosopher what the other world is for the devotee.</p> +<p>Diderot took the ground that, if orthodox religion be true +Christ was guilty of suicide. Having the power to defend himself he +should have used it.</p> +<p>Of course it would not do for the church to allow a man to die +in peace who had added to the intellectual wealth of the world. The +moment Diderot was dead, Catholic priests began painting and +recounting the horrors of his expiring moments. They described him +as overcome with remorse, as insane with fear; and these falsehoods +have been repeated by the Protestant world, and will probably be +repeated by thousands of ministers after we are dead. The truth is, +he had passed his three-score years and ten. He had lived for +seventy-one years. He had eaten his supper. He had been conversing +with his wife. He was reclining in his easy chair. His mind was at +perfect rest. He had entered, without knowing it, the twilight of +his last day. Above the horizon was the evening star, telling of +sleep. The room grew still and the stillness was lulled by the +murmur of the street. There were a few moments of perfect peace. +The wife said, "He is asleep." She enjoyed his repose, and breathed +softly that he might not be disturbed. The moments wore on, and +still he slept. Lovingly, softly, at last she touched him. Yes, he +was asleep. He had become a part of the eternal silence.</p> +<center>DAVID HUME.</center> +<p>THE worst religion of the world was the Presbyterianism of +Scotland as it existed in the beginning of the eighteenth century. +The Kirk had all the faults of the Church of Rome without a +redeeming feature. The Kirk hated music, painting, statuary, and +architecture. Anything touched with humanity—with the dimples +of joy—was detested and accursed. God was to be +feared—not loved.</p> +<p>Life was a long battle with the Devil. Every desire was of +Satan. Happiness was a snare, and human love was wicked, weak and +vain. The Presbyterian priest of Scotland was as cruel, bigoted and +heartless as the familiar of the Inquisition.</p> +<p>One case will tell it all:</p> +<p>In the beginning of this, the nineteenth century, a boy +seventeen years of age, Thomas Aikenhead, was indicted and tried at +Edinburgh for blasphemy. He had denied the inspiration of the +Bible. He had on several occasions, when cold, jocularly wished +himself in hell that he might get warm. The poor, frightened boy +recanted—begged for mercy; but he was found guilty, hanged, +thrown in a hole at the foot of the scaffold, and his weeping +mother vainly begged that his bruised and bleeding body might be +given to her.</p> +<p>This one case, multiplied again and again, gives you the +condition of Scotland when, on the 26th of April, 1711, David Hume +was born.</p> +<p>David Hume was one of the few Scotchmen of his day who were not +owned by the church. He had the manliness to examine historical and +religious questions for himself, and the courage to give his +conclusions to the world. He was singularly capable of governing +himself. He was a philosopher, and lived a calm and cheerful life, +unstained by an unjust act, free from all excess, and devoted in a +reasonable degree to benefiting his fellow-men. After examining the +Bible he became convinced that it was not true. For failing to +suppress his real opinion, for failing to tell a deliberate +falsehood, he brought upon himself the hatred of the church.</p> +<p>Intellectual honesty is the sin against the Holy Ghost, and +whether God will forgive this sin or not his church has not, and +never will.</p> +<p>Hume took the ground that a miracle could not be used as +evidence until the fact that it had happened was established. But +how can a miracle be established? Take any miracle recorded in the +Bible, and how could it be established now? You may say: Upon the +testimony of those who wrote the account. Who were they? No one +knows. How could you prove the resurrection of Lazarus? Or of the +widow's son? How could you substantiate, today, the ascension of +Jesus Christ? In what way could you prove that the river Jordan was +divided upon being struck by the coat of a prophet? How is it +possible now to establish the fact that the fires of a furnace +refused to burn three men? Where are the witnesses? Who, upon the +whole earth, has the slightest knowledge upon this subject?</p> +<p>He insisted that at the bottom of all good was the useful; that +human happiness was an end worth working and living for; that +origin and destiny were alike unknown; that the best religion was +to live temperately and to deal justly with our fellow-men; that +the dogma of inspiration was absurd, and that an honest man had +nothing to fear. Of course the Kirk hated him. He laughed at the +creed.</p> +<p>To the lot of Hume fell ease, respect, success, and honor. While +many disciples of God were the sport and prey of misfortune, he +kept steadily advancing.</p> +<p>Envious Christians bided their time. They waited as patiently as +possible for the horrors of death to fall upon the heart and brain +of David Hume. They knew that all the furies would be there, and +that God would get his revenge.</p> +<p>Adam Smith, author of the "Wealth of Nations," speaking of Hume +in his last sickness, says that in the presence of death "his +cheerfulness was so great, and his conversation and amusements ran +so much in the usual strain, that, notwithstanding all his bad +symptoms, many people could not believe he was dying. A few days +before his death Hume said: 'I am dying as fast as my +enemies—if I have any—could wish, and as easily and +tranquilly as my best friends could desire.'"</p> +<p>Col. Edmondstoune shortly afterward wrote Hume a letter, of +which the following is an extract:</p> +<p>"My heart is full. I could not see you this morning. I thought +it was better for us both. You cannot die—you must live in +the memory of your friends and acquaintances; and your works will +render you immortal. I cannot conceive that it was possible for any +one to dislike you, or hate you. He must be more than savage who +could be an enemy to a man with the best head and heart and the +most amiable manners."</p> +<p>Adam Smith happened to go into his room while he was reading the +above letter, which he immediately showed him. Smith said to Hume +that he was sensible of how much he was weakening, and that +appearances were in many respects bad; yet, that his cheerfulness +was so great and the spirit of life still seemed to be so strong in +him, that he could not keep from entertaining some hopes.</p> +<p>Hume answered, "When I lie down in the evening I feel myself +weaker than when I arose in the morning; and when I rise in the +morning, weaker than when I lay down in the evening. I am sensible, +besides, that some of my vital parts are affected so that I must +soon die."</p> +<p>"Well," said Mr. Smith, "if it must be so, you have at least the +satisfaction of leaving all your friends, and the members of your +brother's family in particular, in great prosperity."</p> +<p>He replied that he was so sensible of his situation that when he +was reading Lucian's Dialogues of the Dead, among all the excuses +which are alleged to Charon for not entering readily into his boat, +he could not find one that fitted him. He had no house to finish; +he had no daughter to provide for; he had no enemies upon whom he +wished to revenge himself; "and I could not well," said he, +"imagine what excuse I could make to Charon in order to obtain a +little delay. I have done everything of consequence which I ever +meant to do, and I could, at no time expect to leave my relations +and friends in a better situation than that in which I am now +likely to leave them; and I have, therefore, every reason to die +contented."</p> +<p>"Upon further consideration," said he, "I thought I might say to +him, 'Good Charon, I have been correcting my works for a new +edition. Allow me a little time that I may see how the public +receives the alterations.' 'But,' Charon would answer, 'when you +have seen the effect of this, you will be for making other +alterations. There will be no end to such excuses; so, my honest +friend, please step into the boat.' 'But,' I might still urge, +'have a little patience, good Charon; I have been endeavoring to +open the eyes of the public; if I live a few years longer, I may +have the satisfaction of seeing the downfall of some of the +prevailing systems of superstition.' And Charon would then lose all +temper and decency, and would cry out, 'You loitering rogue, that +will not happen these many hundred years. Do you fancy I will grant +you a lease for so long a time? Get into the boat this +instant.'"</p> +<p>To the Comtesse de Boufflers, the dying man, with the perfect +serenity that springs from an honest and loving life, writes:</p> +<p>"I see death approach gradually without any anxiety or +regret.... I salute you with great affection and regard, for the +last time."</p> +<p>On the 25th of August, 1776, the philosopher, the historian, the +infidel, the honest man, and a benefactor of his race, in the +composure born of a noble life, passed quietly and panglessly +away.</p> +<p>Dr. Black wrote the following account of his death:</p> +<p>"Monday, 26 August, 1776.</p> +<p>"Dear Sir: Yesterday, about four o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. +Hume expired. The near approach of his death became evident on the +evening between Thursday and Friday, when his disease became +exhaustive, and soon weakened him so much that he could no longer +rise from his bed. He continued to the last perfectly sensible, and +free from much pain or feeling of distress. He never dropped the +smallest expression of impatience; but when he had occasion to +speak to the people about him, always did it with affection and +tenderness.... When he became very weak, it cost him an effort to +speak, and he died in such happy composure of mind that nothing +could exceed it."</p> +<p>Dr. Cullen writes Dr. Hunter on the 17th of September, 1776, +from which the following extracts are made:</p> +<p>"You desire an account of Mr. Hume's last days, and I give it to +you with great pleasure.... It was truly an example <i>des grands +hommes qui sont morts en plaisantant</i>; and to me, who have been +so often shocked with the horrors of superstition, the reflection +on such a death is truly agreeable. For many weeks before his death +he was very sensible of his gradual decay; and his answer to +inquiries after his health was, several times, that he was going as +fast as his enemies could wish, and as easily as his friends could +desire. He passed most of the time in his drawing-room, admitting +the visits of his friends, and with his usual spirit conversed with +them upon literature and politics and whatever else was started. In +conversation he seemed to be perfectly at ease; and to the last +abounded with that pleasantry and those curious and entertaining +anecdotes which ever distinguished him.... His senses and judgment +did not fail him to the last hour of his life. He constantly +discovered a strong sensibility of the attention and care of his +friends; and midst great uneasiness and languor never betrayed any +peevishness or impatience." (Here follows the conversation with +Charon.) "These are a few particulars which may, perhaps, appear +trivial; but to me, no particulars seem trivial which relate to so +great a man. It is perhaps from trifles that we can best +distinguish the tranquilness and cheerfulness of the philosopher at +a time when the most part of mankind are under disquiet, and +sometimes even horror. I consider the sacrifice of the cock as a +more certain evidence of the tranquillity of Socrates than his +discourse on immortality."</p> +<p>The Christians took it for granted that this serene and placid +man died filled with remorse for having given his real opinions, +and proceeded to describe, with every incident and detail of +horror, the terrors of his last moments. Brainless clergymen, +incapable of understanding what Hume had written, knowing only in a +general way that he had held their creeds in contempt, answered his +arguments by maligning his character.</p> +<p>Christians took it for granted that he died in horror and +recounted the terrible scenes.</p> +<p>When the facts of his death became generally known to +intelligent men, the ministers redoubled their efforts to maintain +the old calumnies, and most of them are in this employment even +unto this day. Finding it impossible to tell enough falsehoods to +hide the truth, a few of the more intelligent among the priests +admitted that Hume not only died without showing any particular +fear, but was guilty of unbecoming levity. The first charge was +that he died like a coward; the next that he did not care enough, +and went through the shadowy doors of the dread unknown with a +smile upon his lips. The dying smile of David Hume scandalized the +believers in a God of love. They felt shocked to see a man dying +without fear who denied the miracles of the Bible; who had spent a +life investigating the opinions of men; in endeavoring to prove to +the world that the right way is the best way; that happiness is a +real and substantial good, and that virtue is not a termagant with +sunken cheeks and hollow eyes.</p> +<p>Christians hated to admit that a philosopher had died serenely +without the aid of superstition—one who had taught that man +could not make God happy by making himself miserable, and that a +useful life, after all, was the best possible religion. They +imagined that death would fill such a man with remorse and terror. +He had never persecuted his fellow-men for the honor of God, and +must needs die in despair. They were mistaken.</p> +<p>He died as he had lived. Like a peaceful river with green and +shaded banks he passed, without a murmur, into that waveless sea +where life at last is rest.</p> +<center>BENEDICT SPINOZA.</center> +<p>ONE of the greatest thinkers was Benedict Spinoza, a Jew, born +at Amsterdam, in 1632. He studied medicine and afterward theology. +He endeavored to understand what he studied. In theology he +necessarily failed. Theology is not intended to be +understood,—it is only to be believed. It is an act, not of +reason, but of faith. Spinoza put to the rabbis so many questions, +and so persistently asked for reasons, that he became the most +troublesome of students. When the rabbis found it impossible to +answer the questions, they concluded to silence the questioner. He +was tried, found guilty, and excommunicated from the synagogue.</p> +<p>By the terrible curse of the Jewish religion, he was made an +outcast from every Jewish home. His father could not give him +shelter. His mother could not give him bread—could not speak +to him, without becoming an outcast herself. All the cruelty of +Jehovah, all the infamy of the Old Testament, was in this curse. In +the darkness of the synagogue the rabbis lighted their torches, and +while pronouncing the curse, extinguished them in blood, imploring +God that in like manner the soul of Benedict Spinoza might be +extinguished.</p> +<p>Spinoza was but twenty-four years old when he found himself +without kindred, without friends, surrounded only by enemies. He +uttered no complaint.</p> +<p>He earned his bread with willing hands, and cheerfully divided +his crust with those still poorer than himself.</p> +<p>He tried to solve the problem of existence. To him, the universe +was One. The Infinite embraced the All. The All was God. According +to his belief, the universe did not commence to be. It is; from +eternity it was; to eternity it will be.</p> +<p>He was right. The universe is all there is, or was, or will be. +It is both subject and object, contemplator and contemplated, +creator and created, destroyer and destroyed, preserver and +preserved, and hath within itself all causes, modes, motions and +effects.</p> +<p>In this there is hope. This is a foundation and a star. The +Infinite is the All. Without the All, the Infinite cannot be. I am +something. Without me, the Infinite cannot exist.</p> +<p>Spinoza was a naturalist—that is to say, a pantheist. He +took the ground that the supernatural is, and forever will be, an +infinite impossibility. His propositions are luminous as stars, and +each of his demonstrations is a Gibraltar, behind which logic sits +and smiles at all the sophistries of superstition.</p> +<p>Spinoza has been hated because he has not been answered. He was +a real republican. He regarded the people as the true and only +source of political power. He put the state above the church, the +people above the priest. He believed in the absolute liberty of +worship, thought and speech. In every relation of life he was just, +true, gentle, patient, modest and loving. He respected the rights +of others, and endeavored to enjoy his own, and yet he brought upon +himself the hatred of the Jewish and the Christian world. In his +day, logic was blasphemy, and to think was the unpardonable sin. +The priest hated the philosopher, revelation reviled reason, and +faith was the sworn foe of every fact.</p> +<p>Spinoza was a philosopher, a philanthropist. He lived in a world +of his own. He avoided men. His life was an intellectual solitude. +He was a mental hermit. Only in his own brain he found the liberty +he loved. And yet the rabbis and the priests, the ignorant zealot +and the cruel bigot, feeling that this quiet, thoughtful, modest +man was in some way forging weapons to be used against the church, +hated him with all their hearts.</p> +<p>He did not retaliate. He found excuses for their acts. Their +ignorance, their malice, their misguided and revengeful zeal +excited only pity in his breast. He injured no man. He did not live +on alms. He was poor—and yet, with the wealth of his brain, +he enriched the world. On Sunday, February 21, 1677, Spinoza, one +of the greatest and subtlest of metaphysicians—one of the +noblest and purest of human beings,—at the age of forty-four, +passed tranquilly away; and notwithstanding the curse of the +synagogue under which he had lived and most lovingly labored, death +left upon his lips the smile of perfect peace.</p> +<center>OUR INFIDELS.</center> +<p>IN our country there were three infidels—Paine, Franklin +and Jefferson. The colonies were filled with superstition, the +Puritans with the spirit of persecution. Laws savage, ignorant and +malignant had been passed in every colony, for the purpose of +destroying intellectual liberty. Mental freedom was absolutely +unknown. The Toleration Acts of Maryland tolerated only +Christians—not infidels, not thinkers, not investigators. The +charity of Roger Williams was not extended to those who denied the +Bible, or suspected the divinity of Christ. It was not based upon +the rights of man, but upon the rights of believers, who differed +in non-essential points.</p> +<p>The moment the colonies began to deny the rights of the king +they suspected the power of the priest. In digging down to find an +excuse for fighting George the Third, they unwittingly undermined +the church. They went through the Revolution together. They found +that all denominations fought equally well. They also found that +persons without religion had patriotism and courage, and were +willing to die that a new nation might be born. As a matter of fact +the pulpit was not in hearty sympathy with our fathers. Many +priests were imprisoned because they would not pray for the +Continental Congress. After victory had enriched our standard, and +it became necessary to make a constitution—to establish a +government—the infidels—the men like Paine, like +Jefferson, and like Franklin, saw that the church must be left out; +that a government deriving its just powers from the consent of the +governed could make no contract with a church pretending to derive +its powers from an infinite God.</p> +<p>By the efforts of these infidels, the name of God was left out +of the Constitution of the United States. They knew that if an +infinite being was put in, no room would be left for the people. +They knew that if any church was made the mistress of the state, +that mistress, like all others, would corrupt, weaken, and destroy. +Washington wished a church established by law in Virginia. He was +prevented by Thomas Jefferson. It was only a little while ago that +people were compelled to attend church by law in the Eastern +States, and taxes were raised for the support of churches the same +as for the construction of highways and bridges. The great +principle enunciated in the Constitution has silently repealed most +of these laws. In the presence of this great instrument, the +constitutions of the States grew small and mean, and in a few years +every law that puts a chain upon the mind, except in Delaware, will +be repealed, and for these our children may thank the Infidels of +1776.</p> +<p>The church never has pretended that Jefferson or Franklin died +in fear. Franklin wrote no books against the fables of the ancient +Jews. He thought it useless to cast the pearls of thought before +the swine of ignorance and fear. Jefferson was a statesman. He was +the father of a great party. He gave his views in letters and to +trusted friends. He was a Virginian, author of the Declaration of +Independence, founder of a university, father of a political party, +President of the United States, a statesman and philosopher. He was +too powerful for the divided churches of his day. Paine was a +foreigner, a citizen of the world. He had attacked Washington and +the Bible. He had done these things openly, and what he had said +could not be answered. His arguments were so good that his +character was bad.</p> +<center>THOMAS PAINE</center> +<p>THOMAS PAINE was born in Thetford, England. He came from the +common people. At the age of thirty-seven he left England for +America. He was the first to perceive the destiny of the New World. +He wrote the pamphlet "Common Sense," and in a few months the +Continental Congress declared the colonies free and independent +States—a new nation was born. Paine having aroused the spirit +of independence, gave every energy of his soul to keep the spirit +alive. He was with the army. He shared its defeats and its glory. +When the situation became desperate, he gave them "The Crisis." It +was a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night, leading the way +to freedom, honor, and to victory.</p> +<p>The writings of Paine are gemmed with compact statements that +carry conviction to the dullest. Day and night he labored for +America, until there was a government of the people and for the +people. At the close of the Revolution, no one stood higher than +Thomas Paine. Had he been willing to live a hypocrite, he would +have been respectable, he at least could have died surrounded by +other hypocrites, and at his death there would have been an +imposing funeral, with miles of carriages, filled with hypocrites, +and above his hypocritical dust there would have been a +hypocritical monument covered with lies.</p> +<p>Having done so much for man in America, he went to France. The +seeds sown by the great infidels were bearing fruit in Europe. The +eighteenth century was crowning its gray hairs with the wreath of +progress. Upon his arrival in France he was elected a member of the +French Convention—in fact, he was selected about the same +time by the people of no less than four Departments. He was one of +the committee to draft a constitution for France. In the Assembly, +where nearly all were demanding the execution of the king, he had +the courage to vote against death. To vote against the death of the +king was to vote against his own life. This was the sublimity of +devotion to principle. For this he was arrested, imprisoned, and +doomed to death. While under sentence of death, while in the gloomy +cell of his prison, Thomas Paine wrote to Washington, asking him to +say one word to Robespierre in favor of the author of "Common +Sense." Washington did not reply. He wrote again. Washington, the +President, paid no attention to Thomas Paine, the prisoner. The +letter was thrown into the wastebasket of forgetfulness, and Thomas +Paine remained condemned to death. Afterward he gave his opinion of +Washington at length, and I must say, that I have never found it in +my heart to greatly blame him.</p> +<p>Thomas Paine, having done so much for political liberty, turned +his attention to the superstitions of his age. He published "The +Age of Reason;" and from that day to this, his character has been +maligned by almost every priest in Christendom. He has been held up +as the terrible example. Every man who has expressed an honest +thought, has been warningly referred to Thomas Paine. All his +services were forgotten. No kind word fell from any pulpit. His +devotion to principle, his zeal for human rights, were no longer +remembered. Paine simply took the ground that it is a contradiction +to call a thing a revelation that comes to us second-hand. There +can be no revelation beyond the first communication. All after that +is hearsay. He also showed that the prophecies of the Old Testament +had no relation whatever to Jesus Christ, and contended that Jesus +Christ was simply a man. In other words, Paine was an enlightened +Unitarian. Paine thought the Old Testament too barbarous to have +been the work of an infinitely benevolent God. He attacked the +doctrine that salvation depends upon belief. He insisted that every +man has the right to think.</p> +<p>After the publication of these views every falsehood that +malignity could coin and malice pass was given to the world. On his +return to America, after the election to the presidency of another +infidel, Thomas Jefferson, it was not safe for him to appear in the +public streets. He was in danger of being mobbed. Under the very +flag he had helped to put in heaven his rights were not respected. +Under the Constitution that he had suggested, his life was +insecure. He had helped to give liberty to more than three millions +of his fellow-citizens, and they were willing to deny it unto him. +He was deserted, ostracized, shunned, maligned, and cursed. He +enjoyed the seclusion of a leper; but he maintained through it all +his integrity. He stood by the convictions of his mind. Never for +one moment did he hesitate or waver.</p> +<p>He died almost alone. The moment he died Christians commenced +manufacturing horrors for his death-bed. They had his chamber +filled with devils rattling chains, and these ancient lies are +annually certified to by the respectable Christians of the present +day. The truth is, he died as he had lived. Some ministers were +impolite enough to visit him against his will. Several of them he +ordered from his room. A couple of Catholic priests, in all the +meekness of hypocrisy, called that they might enjoy the agonies of +a dying friend of man. Thomas Paine, rising in his bed, the few +embers of expiring life blown into flame by the breath of +indignation, had the goodness to curse them both. His physician, +who seems to have been a meddling fool, just as the cold hand of +death was touching the patriot's heart, whispered in the dull ear +of the dying man: "Do you believe, or do you wish to believe, that +Jesus Christ is the son of God?" And the reply was: "I have no wish +to believe on that subject."</p> +<p>These were the last remembered words of Thomas Paine. He died as +serenely as ever Christian passed away. He died in the full +possession of his mind, and on the very brink and edge of death +proclaimed the doctrines of his life.</p> +<p>Every Christian, every philanthropist, every believer in human +liberty, should feel under obligation to Thomas Paine for the +splendid service rendered by him in the darkest days of the +American Revolution. In the midnight of Valley Forge, "The Crisis" +was the first star that glittered in the wide horizon of despair. +Every good man should remember with gratitude the brave words +spoken by Thomas Paine in the French Convention against the death +of Louis. He said: "We will kill the king, but not the man. We will +destroy monarchy, not the monarch."</p> +<p>Thomas Paine was a champion, in both hemispheres, of human +liberty; one of the founders and fathers of this Republic; one of +the foremost men of his age. He never wrote a word in favor of +injustice. He was a despiser of slavery. He abhorred tyranny in +every form. He was, in the widest and best sense, a friend of all +his race. His head was as clear as his heart was good, and he had +the courage to speak his honest thought.</p> +<p>He was the first man to write these words: "The United States of +America." He proposed the present Federal Constitution. He +furnished every thought that now glitters in the Declaration of +Independence.</p> +<p>He believed in one God and no more. He was a believer even in +special providence, and he hoped for immortality.</p> +<p>How can the world abhor the man who said:</p> +<p>"I believe in the equality of man, and that religious duties +consist in doing justice, in loving mercy, and endeavoring to make +our fellow-creatures happy."—</p> +<p>"It is necessary to the happiness of man that he be mentally +faithful to himself."—</p> +<p>"The word of God is the creation which we behold."—</p> +<p>"Belief in a cruel God makes a cruel man."—</p> +<p>"My opinion is, that those whose lives have been spent in doing +good and endeavoring to make their fellow-mortals happy, will be +happy hereafter."—</p> +<p>"One good schoolmaster is of more use than a hundred +priests."—</p> +<p>"I believe in one God, and no more, and I hope for happiness +beyond this life."—</p> +<p>"Man has no property in man"—and "The key of heaven is not +in the keeping of any sect!"</p> +<p>Had it not been for Thomas Paine I could not deliver this +lecture here to-night..</p> +<p>It is still fashionable to calumniate this man—and yet +Channing, Theodore Parker, Longfellow, Emerson, and in fact all the +liberal Unitarians and Universalists of the world have adopted the +opinions of Thomas Paine.</p> +<p>Let us compare these Infidels with the Christians of their +time:</p> +<p>Compare Julian with Constantine,—the murderer of his +wife,—the murderer of his son,—and who established +Christianity with the same sword he had wet with their blood. +Compare him with all the Christian emperors—with all the +robbers and murderers and thieves—the parricides and +fratricides and matricides that ever wore the imperial purple on +the banks of the Tiber or the shores of the Bosphorus.</p> +<p>Let us compare Bruno with the Christians who burned him; and we +will compare Spinoza, Voltaire, Diderot, Hume, Jefferson, +Paine—with the men who it is claimed have been the visible +representatives of God.</p> +<p>Let it be remembered that the popes have committed every crime +of which human nature is capable, and that not one of them was the +friend of intellectual liberty—that not one of them ever shed +one ray of light.</p> +<p>Let us compare these Infidels with the founders of sectarian +churches; you will see how narrow, how bigoted, how cruel were +their founders, and how broad, how generous, how noble, were these +infidels.</p> +<p>Let us be honest. The great effort of the human mind is to +ascertain the order of facts by which we are surrounded—the +history of things.</p> +<p>Who has accomplished the most in this direction—the +church, or the unbelievers? Upon one side write all that the church +has discovered—every phenomenon that has been explained by a +creed, every new fact in Nature that has been discovered by a +church, and on the other side write the discoveries of Humboldt, +and the observations and demonstrations of Darwin!</p> +<p>Who has made Germany famous—her priests, or her +scientists?</p> +<p>Goethe.</p> +<p>Kant: That immortal man who said: "Whoever thinks that he can +please God in any way except by discharging his obligations to his +fellows, is superstitious."</p> +<p>And that greatest and bravest of thinkers, Ernst</p> +<p>Haeckel.</p> +<p>Humboldt.</p> +<p>Italy:—Mazzini. Garibaldi.</p> +<p>In France who are and were the friends of freedom—the +Catholic priests, or Renan? the bishops, or +Gambetta?—Dupanloup, or Victor Hugo?</p> +<p>Michelet—Taine—Auguste Comte.</p> +<p>England:—Let us compare her priests with John Stuart +Mill,—Harriet Martineau, that "free rover on the breezy +common of the universe."—George Eliot—with Huxley and +Tyndall, with Holyoake and Harrison—and above and over +all—with Charles Darwin.</p> +<a name="linkCONC" id="linkCONC"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>CONCLUSION.</h2> +<p>LET us be honest. Did all the priests of Rome increase the +mental wealth of man as much as Bruno? Did all the priests of +France do as great a work for the civilization of the world as +Diderot and Voltaire? Did all the ministers of Scotland add as much +to the sum of human knowledge as David Hume? Have all the +clergymen, monks, friars, ministers, priests, bishops, cardinals +and popes, from the day of Pentecost to the last election, done as +much for human liberty as Thomas Paine?—as much for science +as Charles Darwin?</p> +<p>What would the world be if infidels had never been?</p> +<p>The infidels have been the brave and thoughtful men; the flower +of all the world; the pioneers and heralds of the blessed day of +liberty and love; the generous spirits of the unworthy past; the +seers and prophets of our race; the great chivalric souls, proud +victors on the battlefields of thought, the creditors of all the +years to be.</p> +<p>Why should it be taken for granted that the men who devoted +their lives to the liberation of their fellow-men should have been +hissed at in the hour of death by the snakes of conscience, while +men who defended slavery, practiced polygamy, justified the +stealing of babes from the breasts of mothers, and lashed the naked +back of unpaid labor are supposed to have passed smilingly from +earth to the embraces of the angels? Why should we think that the +brave thinkers, the investigators, the honest men, must have left +the crumbling shore of time in dread and fear, while the +instigators of the massacre of St. Bartholomew; the inventors and +users of thumbscrews, of iron boots and racks; the burners and +tearers of human flesh; the stealers, the whippers and the +enslavers of men; the buyers and beaters of maidens, mothers, and +babes; the founders of the Inquisition; the makers of chains; the +builders of dungeons; the calumniators of the living; the +slanderers of the dead, and even the murderers of Jesus Christ, all +died in the odor of sanctity, with white, forgiven hands folded +upon the breasts of peace, while the destroyers of prejudice, the +apostles of humanity, the soldiers of liberty, the breakers of +fetters, the creators of light, died surrounded by the fierce +fiends of God?</p> +<a name="link0008" id="link0008"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>WHICH WAY?</h2> +<h3>I.</h3> +<p>THERE are two ways,—the natural and the supernatural.</p> +<p>One way is to live for the world we are in, to develop the brain +by study and investigation, to take, by invention, advantage of the +forces of nature, to the end that we may have good houses, raiment +and food, to the end that the hunger of the mind may be fed through +art and science.</p> +<p>The other way is to live for another world that we expect, to +sacrifice this life that we have for another that we know not of. +The other way is by prayer and ceremony to obtain the assistance, +the protection of some phantom above the clouds.</p> +<p>One way is to think—to investigate, to observe, and follow +the light of reason. The other way is to believe, to accept, to +follow, to deny the authority of your own senses, your own reason, +and bow down to those who are impudent enough to declare that they +know.</p> +<p>One way is to live for the benefit of your fellow-men—for +your wife and children—to make those you love happy and to +shield them from the sorrows of life.</p> +<p>The other way is to live for ghosts, goblins, phantoms and gods +with the hope that they will reward you in another world.</p> +<p>One way is to enthrone reason and rely on facts, the other to +crown credulity and live on faith.</p> +<p>One way is to walk by the light within—by the flame that +illumines the brain, verifying all by the senses—by touch and +sight and sound.</p> +<p>The other way is to extinguish the sacred light and follow +blindly the steps of another.</p> +<p>One way is to be an honest man, giving to others your thought, +standing erect, intrepid, careless of phantoms and hells.</p> +<p>The other way is to cringe and crawl, to betray your nobler +self, and to deprive others of the liberty that you have not the +courage to enjoy.</p> +<p>Do not imagine that I hate the ones who have taken the wrong +side and traveled the wrong road.</p> +<p>Our fathers did the best they could. They believed in the +Supernatural, and they thought that sacrifices and prayer, fasting +and weeping, would induce the Supernatural to give them sunshine, +rain and harvest—long life in this world and eternal joy in +another. To them, God was an absolute monarch, quick to take +offence, sudden in anger, terrible in punishment, jealous, hateful +to his enemies, generous to his favorites. They believed also in +the existence of an evil God, almost the equal of the other God in +strength, and a little superior in cunning. Between these two Gods +was the soul of man like a mouse between two paws.</p> +<p>Both of these Gods inspired fear. Our fathers did not quite love +God, nor quite hate the Devil, but they were afraid of both. They +really wished to enjoy themselves with God in the next world and +with the Devil in this. They believed that the course of Nature was +affected by their conduct; that floods and storms, diseases, +earthquakes and tempests were sent as punishments, and that all +good phenomena were rewards.</p> +<p>Everything was under the direction and control of supernatural +powers. The air, the darkness, were filled with angels and devils; +witches and wizards planned and plotted against the +pious—against the true believers. Eclipses were produced by +the sins of the people, and the unusual was regarded as the +miraculous. In the good old times Christendom was an insane asylum, +and insane priests and prelates were the keepers. There was no +science. The people did not investigate—did not think. They +trembled and believed. Ignorance and superstition ruled the +Christian world.</p> +<p>At last a few began to observe, to make records, and to +think.</p> +<p>It was found that eclipses came at certain intervals, and that +their coming could be foretold. This demonstrated that the actions +of men had nothing to do with eclipses. A few began to suspect that +earthquakes and storms had natural causes, and happened without the +slightest reference to mankind.</p> +<p>Some began to doubt the existence of evil spirits, or the +interference of good ones in the affairs of the world. Finding out +something about astronomy, the great number of the stars, the +certain and continuous motions of the planets, and the fact that +many of them were vastly larger than the earth; ascertaining +something about the earth, the slow development of forms, the +growth and distribution of plants, the formation of islands and +continents, the parts played by fire, water and air through +countless centuries; the kinship of all life; fixing the earth's +place in the constellation of the sun; by experiment and research +discovering a few secrets of chemistry; by the invention of +printing, and the preservation and dissemination of facts, theories +and thoughts, they were enabled to break a few chains of +superstition, to free themselves a little from the dominion of the +supernatural, and to set their faces toward the light. Slowly the +number of investigators and thinkers increased, slowly the real +facts were gathered, the sciences began to appear, the old beliefs +grew a little absurd, the supernatural retreated and ceased to +interfere in the ordinary affairs of men.</p> +<p>Schools were founded, children were taught, books were printed +and the thinkers increased. Day by day confidence lessened in the +supernatural, and day by day men were more and more impressed with +the idea that man must be his own protector, his own providence. +From the mists and darkness of savagery and superstition emerged +the dawn of the Natural. A sense of freedom took possession of the +mind, and the soul began to dream of its power. On every side were +invention and discovery, and bolder thought. The church began to +regard the friends of science as its foes: Theologians resorted to +chain and fagot—to mutilation and torture.</p> +<p>The thinkers were denounced as heretics and Atheists—as +the minions of Satan and the defamers of Christ. All the ignorance, +prejudice and malice of superstition were aroused and all united +for the destruction of investigation and thought. For centuries +this conflict was waged. Every outrage was perpetrated, every crime +committed by the believers in the supernatural. But, in spite of +all, the disciples of the Natural increased, and the power of the +church waned. Now the intelligence of the world is on the side of +the Natural. Still the conflict goes on—the supernatural +constantly losing, and the Natural constantly gaining. In a few +years the victory of science over superstition will be complete and +universal.</p> +<p>So, there have been for many centuries two philosophies of life; +one in favor of the destruction of the passions—the lessening +of wants,—and absolute reliance on some higher power; the +other, in favor of the reasonable gratification of the passions, +the increase of wants, and their supply by industry, ingenuity and +invention, and the reliance of man on his own efforts. Diogenes, +Epictetus, Socrates to some extent, Buddha and Christ, all taught +the first philosophy. All despised riches and luxury, all were the +enemies of art and music, the despisers of good clothes and good +food and good homes. They were the philosophers of poverty and +rags, of huts and hovels, of ignorance and faith. They preached the +glories of another world and the miseries of this. They derided the +prosperous, the industrious, those who enjoyed life, and reserved +heaven for beggars.</p> +<p>This philosophy is losing authority, and now most people are +anxious to be happy here in this life. Most people want food and +roof and raiment—books and pictures, luxury and leisure. They +believe in developing the brain—in making servants and slaves +of the forces of Nature.</p> +<p>Now the intelligent men of the world have cast aside the +teachings, the philosophy of the ascetics. They no longer believe +in the virtue of fasting and self-torture. They believe that +happiness is the only good, and that the time to be happy is +now—here, in this world. They no longer believe in the +rewards and punishments of the supernatural. They believe in +consequences, and that the consequences of bad actions are evil, +and the consequences of good actions are good.</p> +<p>They believe that man by investigation, by reason, should find +out the conditions of happiness, and then live and act in +accordance with such conditions. They do not believe that +earthquakes, or tempests, or volcanoes, or eclipses are caused by +the conduct of men. They no longer believe in the supernatural. +They do not regard themselves as the serfs, servants, or favorites +of any celestial king. They feel that many evils can be avoided by +knowledge, and for that reason they believe in the development of +the brain. The schoolhouse is their church and the university their +cathedral.</p> +<p>So, there have been for some centuries two theories of +government,—one theological, the other secular.</p> +<p>The king received his power directly from God. It was the +business of the people to obey. The priests received their creeds +from God and it was the duty of the people to believe.</p> +<p>The theological government is growing somewhat unpopular. In +England, Parliament has taken the place of God, and in the United +States, government derives its powers from the consent of the +governed.</p> +<p>Probably Emperor William is the only man in Germany who really +believes that God placed him on the throne and will keep him there +whether the German people are satisfied or not. Italy has retired +the Catholic God from politics, France belongs to and is governed +by the French, and even in Russia there are millions who hold the +Czar and all his divine pretensions in contempt.</p> +<p>The theological governments are passing away and the secular are +slowly taking their places. Man is growing greater and the Gods are +becoming vague and indistinct. These "divine" governments rest on +the fear and ignorance of the many, the cunning, the impudence and +the mendacity of the few. A secular government is born of the +intelligence, the honesty and the courage, not only of the few, but +of the many.</p> +<p>We have found that man can govern himself without the assistance +of priest or pope, of ghost or God. We have found that religion is +not self-evident, and that to believe without evidence is not a +praiseworthy action. We know that the self-evident is the square +and compass of the brain, the polar star in the firmament of mind. +And we know that no one denies the self-evident. We also know that +there is no particular goodness in believing when the evidence is +sufficient, and certainly there is' none in saying; that you +believe when the evidence is insufficient.</p> +<p>The believers have not all been good. Some of the worst people +in the whole world have been believers. The gentlemen who made +Socrates drink hemlock were believers. The Jews who crucified +Christ were believers in and worshipers of God. The devil believes +in the Trinity, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, and yet it does not +seem to have affected his moral character. According to the Bible, +he trembles, but he does not reform. At last we have concluded that +we have a right to examine the religion of our fathers.</p> +<center>II.</center> +<p>ALL Christians know that all the gods, except Jehovah, were +created by man; that they were, and are, false, foolish and +monstrous; that all the heathen temples were built and all their +altars erected in vain; that the sacrifices were wasted, that the +priests were hypocrites, that their prayers were unanswered and +that the poor people were deceived, robbed and enslaved. But after +all, is our God superior to the gods of the heathen?</p> +<p>We can ask this question now because we are prosperous, and +prosperity gives courage. If we should have a few earthquakes or a +pestilence we might fall on our knees, shut our eyes and ask the +forgiveness of God for ever having had a thought. We know that +famine is the friend of faith and that calamity is the sunshine of +superstition. But as we have no pestilence or famine, and as the +crust of the earth is reasonably quiet, we can afford to examine +into the real character of our God.</p> +<p>It must be admitted that the use of power is an excellent test +of character.</p> +<p>Would a good God appeal to prejudice, the armor, fortress, sword +and shield of ignorance? to credulity, the ring in the priest-led +nose of stupidity? to fear, the capital stock of imposture, the +lever of hypocrisy? Would a good God frighten or enlighten his +children? Would a good God appeal to reason or ignorance, to +justice or selfishness, to liberty or the lash?</p> +<p>To our first parents in the Garden of Eden, our God said nothing +about the sacredness of love, nothing about children, nothing about +education, about justice or liberty.</p> +<p>After they had violated his command he became ferocious as a +wild beast. He cursed the earth and to Eve he said:—"I will +greatly multiply thy sorrow. In sorrow shalt thou bring forth +children. Thy husband shall rule over thee."</p> +<p>Our God made love the slave of pain, made wives serfs, and +brutalized the firesides of the world.</p> +<p>Our God drowned the whole world, with the exception of eight +people; made the earth one vast and shoreless sea covered with +corpses.</p> +<p>Why did he cover the world with men, women and children knowing +that he would destroy them?</p> +<p>Why did he not try to reform them? Why would he create people, +knowing that they could not be reformed?</p> +<p>Is it possible that our God was intelligent and good?</p> +<p>After the flood our God selected the Jews and abandoned the rest +of his children. He paid no attention to the Hindoos, neglected the +Egyptians, ignored the Persians, forgot the Assyrians and failed to +remember the Greeks. And yet he was the father of them all. For +many centuries he was only a tribal God, protecting the few and +despising the many. Our God was ignorant, knew nothing of astronomy +or geology. He did not even know the shape of the earth, and +thought the stars were only specks.</p> +<p>He knew nothing of disease. He thought that the blood of a bird +that had been killed over running water was good medicine. He was +revengeful and cruel, and assisted some of his children to butcher +and destroy others. He commanded them to murder men, wives and +children, and to keep alive the maidens and distribute them among +his soldiers.</p> +<p>Our God established slavery—commanded men to buy their +fellow-men, to make merchandise of wives and babes. Our God +sanctioned polygamy and made wives the property of their husbands. +Our God murdered the people for the crimes of kings.</p> +<p>No man of intelligence, no one whose brain has not been poisoned +by superstition, paralyzed by fear, can read the Old Testament +without being forced to the conclusion that our God was, a wild +beast.</p> +<p>If we must have a god, let him be merciful. Let us remember that +"the quality of mercy is not strained." Let us remember that when +the sword of Justice becomes a staff to support the weak, it bursts +into blossom, and that the perfume of that flower is the only +incense, the only offering, the only sacrifice that mercy will +accept.</p> +<center>III.</center> +<p>SO, there have been two theories about the cause and cure of +disease. One is the theological, the other the scientific.</p> +<p>According to the theological idea, diseases were produced by +evil spirits, by devils who entered into the bodies of people.</p> +<p>These devils could be cast out by prophets, inspired men and +priests.</p> +<p>While Christ was upon earth his principal business was to cast +out evil spirits.</p> +<p>For many centuries the priests followed his example, and during +the Middle Ages millions of devils were driven from the bodies of +men. Diseases were cured with little images of consecrated pewter, +with pieces of paper, with crosses worn about the neck—by +having plaster of Paris Virgins and clay Christs at the head of the +bed, by touching the bones of dead saints, or pieces of the true +cross, or one of the nails that was driven through the flesh of +Christ, or a garment that had been worn by the Virgin Mary, or by +sprinkling the breast with holy water, or saying prayers, or +counting beads, or making the stations of the cross, or by going +without meat, or wearing haircloth, or in some way torturing the +body. All diseases were supposed to be of supernatural origin and +all cures were of the same nature. Pestilences were stopped by +processions, led by priests carrying the Host.</p> +<p>Nothing was known of natural causes and effects. Everything was +miraculous and mysterious. The priests were cunning and the people +credulous.</p> +<p>Slowly another theory as to the cause and cure of disease took +possession of the mind. A few discarded the idea of devils, and +took the ground that diseases were naturally produced, and that +many of them could be cured by natural means.</p> +<p>At first the physician was exceedingly ignorant, but he knew +more than the priest. Slowly but surely he pushed the priest from +the bedside. Some people finally became intelligent enough to trust +their bodies to the doctors, and remained ignorant enough to leave +the care of their souls with the priests. Among civilized people +the theological theory has been cast aside, and the miraculous, the +supernatural, no longer has a place in medicine. In Catholic +countries the peasants are still cured by images, prayers, holy +water and the bones of saints, but when the priests are sick they +send for a physician, and now even the Pope, God's agent, gives his +sacred body to the care of a doctor.</p> +<p>The scientific has triumphed to a great extent over the +theological.</p> +<p>No intelligent person now believes that devils inhabit the +bodies of men. No intelligent person now believes that devils are +trying to control the actions of men. No intelligent person now +believes that devils exist.</p> +<p>And yet, at the present time, in the city of New York, Catholic +priests are exhibiting a piece of one of the bones of Saint Anne, +the supposed mother of the Virgin Mary. Some of these priests may +be credulous imbeciles and some may be pious rogues. If they have +any real intelligence they must know that there is no possible way +of proving that the piece of bone ever belonged to Saint Anne. And +if they have any real intelligence they must know that even the +bones of Saint Anne were substantially like the bones of other +people, made of substantially the same material, and that the +medical and miraculous qualities of all human bones must be +substantially the same. And yet these priests are obtaining from +their credulous dupes thousands and thousands of dollars for the +privilege of seeing this bone and kissing the box that contains the +"sacred relic."</p> +<p>Archbishop Corrigan knows that no one knows who the mother of +the Virgin Mary was, that no one knows about any of the bones of +this unknown mother, knows that the whole thing is a theological +fraud, knows that his priests, or priests under his jurisdiction, +are obtaining money under false pretences. Cardinal Gibbons knows +the same, but neither of these pious gentlemen has one word to say +against this shameless crime. They are willing that priests for the +benefit of the church should make merchandise of the hopes and +fears of ignorant believers; willing that fraud that produces +revenue should live and thrive.</p> +<p>This is the honesty of the theologian. If these gentlemen should +be taken sick they would not touch the relic. They would send for a +physician.</p> +<p>Let me tell you a Japanese story that is exactly in point:</p> +<p>An old monk was in charge of a monastery that had been built +above the bones of a saint. These bones had the power to cure +diseases and they were so placed that by thrusting the arm through +an orifice they could be touched by the hand of the pilgrim. Many +people, afflicted in many ways, came and touched these bones. Many +thought they had been benefited or cured, and many in gratitude +left large sums of money with the monk. One day the old monk +addressed his assistant as follows: "My dear son, business has +fallen off, and I can easily attend to all who come. You will have +to find another place. I will give you the white donkey, a little +money, and my blessing."</p> +<p>So the young man mounted upon the beast and went his way. In a +few days his money was gone and the white donkey died. An idea took +possession of the young man's mind. By the side of the road he +buried the donkey, and then to every passer-by held out his hands +and said in solemn tones: "I pray thee give me a little money to +build a temple above the bones of the sinless one."</p> +<p>Such was his success that he built the temple, and then +thousands came to touch the bones of the sinless one. The young man +became rich, gave employment to many assistants and lived in the +greatest luxury.</p> +<p>One day he made up his mind to visit his old master. Taking with +him a large retinue of servants he started for the old home. When +he reached the place the old monk was seated by the doorway. With +great astonishment he looked at the young man and his retinue. The +young man dismounted and made himself known, and the old monk +cried: "Where hast thou been? Tell me, I pray thee, the story of +thy success."</p> +<p>"Ah," the young man replied, "old age is stupid, but youth has +thoughts. Wait until we are alone and I will tell you all."</p> +<p>So that night the young man told his story, told about the death +and burial of the donkey, the begging of money to build a temple +over the bones of the sinless one, and of the sums of money he had +received for the cures the bones had wrought.</p> +<p>When he finished a satisfied smile crept over his pious face as +he added: "Old age is stupid, but youth has thoughts."</p> +<p>"Be not so fast," said the old monk, as he placed his trembling +hand on the head of his visitor, "Young man, this monastery in +which your youth was passed, in which you have seen so many +miracles performed, so many diseases cured, was built above the +sacred bones of the mother of your little jackass."</p> +<center>IV.</center> +<p>THERE are two ways of accounting for the sacred books and +religions of the world.</p> +<p>One is to say that the sacred books were written by inspired +men, and that our religion was revealed to us by God.</p> +<p>The other is to say that all books have been written by men, +without any aid from supernatural powers, and that all religions +have been naturally produced.</p> +<p>We find that other races and peoples have sacred books and +prophets, priests and Christs; we find too that their sacred books +were written by men who had the prejudices and peculiarities of the +race to which they belonged, and that they contain the mistakes and +absurdities peculiar to the people who produced them.</p> +<p>Christians are perfectly satisfied that all the so-called sacred +books, with the exception of the Old and New Testaments, were +written by men, and that the claim of inspiration is perfectly +absurd. So they believe that all religions, except Judaism and +Christianity, were invented by men. The believers in other +religions take the ground that their religion was revealed by God, +and that all others, including Judaism and Christianity, were made +by men. All are right and all are wrong. When they say that "other" +religions were produced by men, they are right; when they say that +their religion was revealed by God, they are wrong.</p> +<p>Now we know that all tribes and nations have had some kind of +religion; that they have believed in the existence of good and evil +beings, spirits or powers, that could be softened by gifts or +prayer. Now we know that at the foundation of every religion, of +all worship, is the pale and bloodless face of fear. Now we know +that all religions and all sacred books have been naturally +produced—all born of ignorance, fear and cunning.</p> +<p>Now we know that the gifts, sacrifices and prayers were all in +vain; that no god received and that no god heard or answered.</p> +<p>A few years ago prayers decided the issue of battle, and +priests, through their influence with God, could give the victory. +Now no intelligent man expects any answer to prayer. He knows that +nature pursues her course without reference to the wishes of men, +that the clouds float, the winds blow, the rain falls and the sun +shines without regard to the human race. Yet millions are still +praying, still hoping that they can gain the protection of some +god, that some being will guard them from accident and disease. +Year after year the ministers make the same petitions, pray for the +same things, and keep on in spite of the fact that nothing is +accomplished.</p> +<p>Whenever good men do some noble thing the clergy give their God +the credit, and when evil things are done they hold the men who did +the evil responsible, and forget to blame their God.</p> +<p>Praying has become a business, a profession, a trade, A minister +is never happier than when praying in public. Most of them are +exceedingly familiar with their God. Knowing that he knows +everything, they tell him the needs of the nation and the desires +of the people, they advise him what to do and when to do it. They +appeal to his pride, asking him to do certain things for his own +glory. They often pray for the impossible. In the House of +Representatives in Washington I once heard a chaplain pray for what +he must have known was impossible. Without a change of countenance, +without a smile, with a face solemn as a sepulchre, he said: "I +pray thee, O God, to give Congress wisdom." It may be that +ministers really think that their prayers do good and it may be +that frogs imagine that their croaking brings spring.</p> +<p>The men of thought now know that all religions and all sacred +books have been made by men; that no revelation has come from any +being superior to nature; that all the prophecies were either false +or made after the event; that no miracle ever was or ever will be +performed; that no God wants the worship or the assistance of man; +that no-prayer has ever coaxed one drop of rain from the sky, one +ray of light from the sun; that no prayer has stayed the flood, or +the tides of the sea, or folded the wings of the storm; that no +prayer has given water to the cracked and bleeding lips of thirst, +or food to the famishing; that no prayer has stopped the +pestilence, stilled the earthquake or quieted the volcano; that no +prayer has shielded the innocent, succored the oppressed, unlocked +the dungeon's door, broke the chains of slaves, rescued the good +and noble from the scaffold, or extinguished the fagot's flame.</p> +<p>The intelligent man now knows that we live in a natural world, +that gods and devils and the sons of God are all phantoms, that our +religion and our Deity are much like the religion and deities of +other nations, and that the stone god of a savage answers prayer +and protects his worshipers precisely the same, and to just the +same extent, as the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.</p> +<center>V.</center> +<p>THERE are two theories about morals. One theory is that the +moral man obeys the commands of a supposed God, without stopping to +think whether the commands are right or wrong. He believes that the +will of the God is the source and fountain of right. He thinks a +thing is wrong because the God prohibits it, not that the God +prohibits it because it is wrong. This theory calls not for +thought, but for obedience. It does not appeal to reason, but to +the fear of punishment, the hope of reward. God is a king whose +will is law, and men are serfs and slaves.</p> +<p>Many contend that without a belief in the existence of God +morality is impossible and that virtue would perish from the +earth.</p> +<p>This absurd theory, with its "Thus saith the Lord" has been +claimed to be independent of and superior to reason.</p> +<p>The other theory is that right and wrong exist in the nature of +things; that certain actions preserve or increase the happiness of +man, and that other actions cause sorrow and misery; that all those +actions that cause happiness are moral, and that all others are +evil, or indifferent. Right and wrong are not revelations from some +supposed god, but have been discovered through the experience and +intelligence of man. There is nothing miraculous or supernatural +about morality. Neither has morality anything to do with another +world, or with an infinite being. It applies to conduct here, and +the effect of that conduct on ourselves and others determines its +nature.</p> +<p>In this world people are obliged to supply their wants by labor. +Industry is a necessity, and those who work are the natural enemies +of those who steal.</p> +<p>It required no revelation from God to make larceny unpopular. +Human beings naturally object to being injured, maimed, or killed, +and so everywhere, and at all times, they have tried to protect +themselves.</p> +<p>Men did not require a revelation from God to put in their minds +the thought of self-preservation. To defend yourself when attacked +is as natural as to eat when you are hungry.</p> +<p>To determine the quality of an action by showing that it is in +accordance with, or contrary to the command of some supposed God, +is superstition pure and simple. To test all actions by their +consequences is scientific and in accord with reason.</p> +<p>According to the supernatural theory, natural consequences are +not taken into consideration. Actions are wrong because they have +been prohibited and right because they have been commanded. +According to the Catholic Church, eating meat on Friday is a sin +that deserves eternal punishment. And yet, in the nature of things, +the consequences of eating meat on that day must be exactly the +same as eating meat on any other. So, all the churches teach that +unbelief is a crime, not in the nature of things, but by reason of +the will of God.</p> +<p>Of course this is absurd and idiotic. If there be an infinite +God he cannot make that wrong which in the nature of things is +right. Neither can he make an action good the natural consequences +of which are evil. Even an infinite God cannot change a fact. In +spite of him the relation between the diameter and circumference of +a circle would remain the same.</p> +<p>All the relations of things to things, of forces to forces, of +acts to acts, of causes to effects in the domain of what is called +matter, and in the realm of what is called mind, are just as +certain, just as unchangeable as the relation between the diameter +and circumference of a circle.</p> +<p>An infinite God could not make ingratitude a virtue any easier +than he could make a square triangle.</p> +<p>So, the foundations of the moral and the immoral are in the +nature of things—in the necessary relation between conduct +and well-being, and an infinite God cannot change these +foundations, and cannot increase or diminish the natural +consequences of actions.</p> +<p>In this world there is neither chance nor caprice, neither magic +nor miracle. Behind every event, every thought and dream, is the +efficient, the natural and necessary cause.</p> +<p>The effort to make the will of a supposed God the foundation of +morality, has filled the world with misery and crime, extinguished +in millions of minds the light of reason, and in countless ways +hindered and delayed the progress of our race.</p> +<p>Intelligent men now know, that if there be an infinite God, man +cannot in any way increase or decrease the happiness of such a +being. They know that man can only commit crimes against sentient +beings who, to some extent at least, are within his power, and that +a crime by a finite being against an infinite being is an infinite +impossibility.</p> +<center>VI.</center> +<p>FOR many thousands of years man has believed in and sought for +the impossible. In chemistry he has searched for a universal +solvent, for some way in which to change the baser metals into +gold. Even Lord Bacon was a believer in this absurdity. Thousands +of men, during many centuries, in thousands of ways, sought to +change the nature of lead and iron so that they might be +transformed to gold. They had no conception of the real nature of +things. They supposed that they had originally been created by a +kind of magic, and could by the same kind of magic be changed into +something else. They were all believers in the supernatural. So, in +mechanics, men sought for the impossible. They were believers in +perpetual motion and they tried to make machines that would through +a combination of levers furnish the force that propelled them.</p> +<p>Thousands of ingenious men wasted their lives in the vain effort +to produce machines that would in some wonderful way create a +force. They did not know that force is eternal, that it can neither +be created nor destroyed. They did not know that a machine having +perpetual motion would necessarily be a universe within itself, or +independent of this, and in which the force called friction would +be necessarily changed, without loss, into the force that +propelled,—the machine itself causing or creating the +original force that put it in motion. And yet in spite of all the +absurdities involved, for many centuries men, regarded by their +fellows as intelligent and learned, tried to discover the great +principle of "perpetual motion."</p> +<p>Our ancestors studied the stars because in them they thought it +possible to learn the fate of nations, the life and destiny of the +individual. Eclipses, wandering comets, the relations of certain +stars were the forerunners or causes of prosperity or disaster, of +the downfall or upbuilding of kingdoms. Astrology was believed to +be a science, and those who studied the stars were consulted by +warriors, statesmen and kings. The account of the star that led the +wise men of the East to the infant Christ was written by a believer +in astrology. It would be hard to overstate the time and talent +wasted in the study of this so-called science. The men who believed +in astrology thought that they lived in a supernatural +world—a world in which causes and effects had no necessary +connection with each other—in which all events were the +result of magic and necromancy.</p> +<p>Even now, at the close of the nineteenth century, there are +hundreds and hundreds of men who make their living by casting the +horoscopes of idiots and imbeciles.</p> +<p>The "perpetual motion" of the mechanic, the universal solvent of +the chemist, the changing of lead into gold, the foretelling events +by the relations of stars were all born of the same ignorance of +nature that caused the theologian to imagine an uncaused cause as +the cause of all causes and effects.</p> +<p>The theologian insisted that there was something superior to +nature, and that that something was the creator and preserver of +nature.</p> +<p>Of course there is no more evidence of the existence of that +"something" than there is of the philosopher's stone.</p> +<p>The mechanics who now believe in perpetual motion are insane, so +are the chemists who seek to change one metal into another, so are +the honest astrologers, and in a few more years the same can +truthfully be said of the honest theologians.</p> +<p>Many of our ancestors believed in the existence of and sought +for the Fountain of Perpetual Youth. They believed that an old man +could stoop and drink from this fountain and that while he drank +his gray hairs would slowly change, that the wrinkles would +disappear, that his dim eyes would brighten and grow clear, his +heart throb with manhood's force and rhythm, while in his pallid +cheeks would burst into blossom the roses of health.</p> +<p>They were believers in the supernatural, the miraculous, and +nothing seemed more probable than the impossible.</p> +<center>VII.</center> +<p>MOST people use names in place of arguments. They are satisfied +to be disciples, followers of the illustrious dead. Each church, +each party has a list of "great men," and they throw the names of +these men at each other when discussing their dogmas and +creeds.</p> +<p>Men prove the inspiration of the Bible, the divinity of Christ +by the admissions of soldiers, statesmen and kings. And in the same +way they establish the existence of heaven and hell. Dispute one of +their dogmas and you will instantly be told that Isaac Newton or +Matthew Hale was on the other side, and you will be asked whether +you claim to be superior to Newton or Hale. In our own country the +ministers, to establish their absurdities, quote the opinions of +Webster and of other successful politicians as though such opinions +were demonstrations.</p> +<p>Most Protestants will cheerfully admit that they are inferior in +brain and genius to some men who have lived and died in the +Catholic faith; that in the matter of preaching funeral sermons +they are not equal to Bossuet; that their letters are not as +interesting and polished as those written by Pascal; that +Torquemada excelled them in the genius of organization, and that +for planning a massacre they would not for a moment claim the palm +from Catherine de Medici, and yet after these admissions, these +same Protestants would insist that the Pope is an unblushing +impostor, and the Catholic Church a vampire.</p> +<p>The so-called "great men" of the world have been mistaken in +many things. Lord Bacon denied the Copernican system of astronomy +and believed to the day of his death that the sun and stars +journeyed about this little earth. Matthew Hale was a firm believer +in the existence of witches and wizards. John Wesley believed that +earthquakes were caused by sin and that they could be prevented by +believing in the Lord Jesus Christ. John Calvin regarded murder as +one of the means to preserve the purity of the gospel. Martin +Luther denounced Galileo as a fool because he was opposed to the +astronomy of Moses. Webster was in favor of the Fugitive Slave Law +and held the book of Job in high esteem. He wanted votes and he +knelt to the South. He wanted votes and he flattered the +church.</p> +<center>VIII.</center> +<p>VOLUMES might be written on the follies and imbecilities of +"great" men.</p> +<p>Only a few years ago the really great men were persecuted, +imprisoned or burned. In this way the church was enabled to keep +the "great" men on her side.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact it is impossible to tell what the "great" +men really thought. We only know what they said. These "great" men +had families to support, they had a prejudice against prisons and +objected to being burned, and it may be that they thought one way +and talked another.</p> +<p>The priests said to these men: "Agree with the creed, talk on +our side, or you will be persecuted to the death." Then the priests +turned to the people and cried: "Hear what the great men say."</p> +<p>For a few years we have had something like liberty of speech and +many men have told their thoughts. Now the theologians are not +quite so apt to appeal to names as formerly. The really great are +not on their side. The leaders of modern thought are not +Christians. Now the unbelievers can repeat names—names that +stand for intellectual triumphs. Humboldt, Helmholtz, Haeckel and +Huxley, Darwin, Spencer and Tyndall and many others, stand for +investigation, discovery, for vast achievements in the world of +thought. These men were and are thinkers and they had and have the +courage to express their thoughts. They were not and are not +puppets of priests, or the trembling worshipers of ghosts.</p> +<p>For many years, most of the presidents of American colleges have +been engaged in the pious work of trying to prevent the +intellectual advancement of the race. To such an extent have they +succeeded that none of their students have been or are great +scientists.</p> +<p>For the purpose of bolstering their creed the orthodox do not +now repeat the names of the living, their witnesses are in the +cemetery. All the "great" Christians are dead.</p> +<p>To-day we want arguments, not names, reasons, not opinions. It +is degrading to blindly follow a man, or a church. Nothing is +nobler than to be governed by reason. To be vanquished by the truth +is to be a victor. The man who follows is a slave. The man who +thinks is free.</p> +<p>We must remember that most men have been controlled by their +surroundings. Most of the intelligent men in Turkey are followers +of Mahomet. They were rocked in the cradle of the Koran, they +received their religious opinions as they did their +features—from their parents. Their opinion on the subject of +religion is of no possible value. The same may be said of the +Christians of our country. Their belief is the result, not of +thought, of investigation, but of surroundings.</p> +<p>All religions have been the result of ignorance, and the seeds +were sown and planted in the long night of savagery.</p> +<p>In the decline of the Roman power, in the times when prosperity +died, when commerce almost ceased, when the sceptre of authority +fell from weak and nerveless hands, when arts were lost and the +achievements of the past forgotten or unknown, then Christians +came, and holding in contempt all earthly things, told their +fellows of another world—of joy eternal beyond the +clouds.</p> +<p>If learning had not been lost, if the people had been educated, +if they had known the literature of Greece and Rome, if they had +been familiar with the tragedies of �?schylus, Sophocles and +Euripides, with the philosophy of Zeno and Epicurus, with the +orations of Demosthenes; if they had known the works of art, the +miracles of genius, the passions in marble, the dreams in stone; if +they had known the history of Rome; if they had understood +Lucretius, Cicero and Cæsar; if they had studied the laws, +the decisions of the Prætors; if they had known the thoughts +of all the mighty dead, there would have been no soil on which the +seeds of Christian superstition could have taken root and +grown.</p> +<p>But the early Christians hated art, and song, and joy. They +slandered and maligned the human race, insisted that the world had +been blighted by the curse of God, that this life should be used +only in making preparation for the next, that education filled the +mind with doubt, and science led the soul from God.</p> +<center>IX.</center> +<p>THERE are two ways. One is to live for God. That has been tried, +and the result has always been the same. It was tried in Palestine +many years ago and the people who tried it were not protected by +their God. They were conquered, overwhelmed and exiled. They lost +their country and were scattered over the earth. For many centuries +they expected assistance from their God. They believed that they +would be gathered together again, that their cities and temples and +altars would be rebuilt, that they would again be the favorites of +Jehovah, that with his help they would overcome their enemies and +rule the world. Century by century the hope has grown weaker and +weaker, until now it is regarded by the intelligent as a foolish +dream.</p> +<p>Living for God was tried in Switzerland and it ended in slavery +and torture. Every avenue that led to improvement, to progress, was +closed. Only those in authority were allowed to express their +thoughts. No one tried to increase the happiness of people in this +world. Innocent pleasure was regarded as sin, laughter was +suppressed, all natural joy despised, and love itself denounced as +sin.</p> +<p>They amused themselves with fasting and prayer, hearing sermons, +talking about endless pain, committing to memory the genealogies in +the Old Testament, and now and then burning one of their +fellow-men.</p> +<p>Living for God was tried in Scotland. The people became the +serfs and slaves of the blessed Kirk. The ministers became petty +tyrants. They poisoned the very springs of life. They interfered +with every family, invaded the privacy of every home, sowed the +seeds of superstition and fear, and filled the darkness with +devils. They claimed to be divinely inspired, that they delivered +the messages of God, that to deny their authority was blasphemy, +and that all who refused to do their bidding would suffer eternal +pain. Under their government Scotland was a land of sighing and +sorrow, of grief and pain. The people were slaves.</p> +<p>Living for God was tried in New England. A government was formed +in accordance with the Old Testament. The laws, for the most part, +were petty and absurd, the penalties cruel and bloody to the last +degree. Religious liberty was regarded as a crime, as an insult to +God. Persons differing in belief from those in power, were +persecuted, whipped, maimed and exiled. People supposed to be in +league with the devil were imprisoned or killed. A theological +government was established, ministers were the agents of God, they +dictated the laws and fixed the penalties. Everything was under the +supervision of the clergy. They had no pity, no mercy. With all +their hearts they hated the natural. They promised happiness in +another world, and did all they could to destroy the pleasures of +this.</p> +<p>Their greatest consolation, their purest joy was found in their +belief that all who failed to obey their words, to wear their yoke, +would suffer infinite torture in the eternal dungeons of hell.</p> +<p>Living for God was tried in the Dark Ages. Thousands of +scaffolds were wet with blood, countless swords were thrust through +human hearts. The flames of fagots consumed the flesh of men, +dungeons became the homes of those who thought. In the name of God +every cruelty was practiced, every crime committed, and liberty +perished from the earth. Everywhere the result has been the same. +Living for God has filled the world with blood and flame.</p> +<p>There is another way. Let us live for man, for this world. Let +us develop the brain and civilize the heart. Let us ascertain the +conditions of happiness and live in accordance with them. Let us do +what we can for the destruction of ignorance, poverty and crime. +Let us do our best to supply the wants of the body, to satisfy the +hunger of the mind, to ascertain the secrets of nature, to the end +that we may make the invisible forces the tireless servants of the +human race, and fill the world with happy homes.</p> +<p>Let the gods take care of themselves. Let us live for man. Let +us remember that those who have sought for the truths of nature +have never persecuted their fellow-men. The astronomers and +chemists have forged no chains, built no dungeons. The geologists +have invented no instrument of torture. The philosophers have not +demonstrated the truth of their theories by burning their +neighbors. The great infidels, the thinkers, have lived for the +good of man.</p> +<p>It is noble to seek for truth, to be intellectually honest, to +give to others a true transcript of your mind, a photograph of your +thoughts in honest words.</p> +<center>X.</center> +<p>HERE are two ways: The narrow way along which the selfish go in +single file, not wide enough for husband and wife to walk side by +side while children clasp their hands. The narrow road over the +desert of superstition "with here and there a traveler." The narrow +grass-grown path, filled with flints and broken glass, bordered by +thistles and thorns, where the twice-born limping walk with +bleeding feet. If by this path you see a flower, do not pick it. It +is a temptation. Beneath its leaves a serpent lies. Keep your eyes +on the New Jerusalem. Do not look back for wife or child or friend. +Think only of saving your own soul. You will be just as happy in +heaven with all you love in hell. Believe, have faith, and you will +be rewarded for the goodness of another. Look neither to the right +nor left. Keep on, straight on, and you will save your worthless, +withered, selfish soul.</p> +<p>This is the narrow road that leads from earth to the Christian's +heartless heaven.</p> +<p>There is another way—the broad road.</p> +<p>Give me the wide and ample way, the way broad enough for us all +to go together. The broad way where the birds sing, where the sun +shines and the streams murmur. The broad way, through the fields +where the flowers grow, over the daisied slopes where sunlight, +lingering, seems to sleep and dream.</p> +<p>Let us go the broad way with the great world, with science and +art, with music and the drama, with all that gladdens, thrills, +refines and calms.</p> +<p>Let us go the wide road with husband and wife, with children and +friends and with all there is of joy and love between the dawn and +dusk of life's strange day.</p> +<p>This world is a great orange tree filled with blossoms, with +ripening and ripened fruit, while, underneath the bending boughs, +the fallen slowly turn to dust.</p> +<p>Each orange is a life. Let us squeeze it dry, get all the juice +there is, so that when death comes we can say; "There is nothing +left but withered peel."</p> +<p>Let us travel the broad and natural way. Let us live for +man.</p> +<p>To think of what the world has suffered from superstition, from +religion, from the worship of beast and stone and god, is almost +enough to make one insane. Think of the long, long night of +ignorance and fear! Think of the agony, the sufferings of the past, +of the days that are dead!</p> +<p>I look. In gloomy caves I see the sacred serpents coiled, +waiting for their sacrificial prey. I see their open jaws, their +restless tongues, their glittering eyes, their cruel fangs. I see +them seize and crush in many horrid folds the helpless children +given by fathers and mothers to appease the Serpent-God. I look +again. I see temples wrought of stone and gilded with barbaric +gold. I see altars red with human blood. I see the solemn priests +thrust knives in the white breasts of girls. I look again. I see +other temples and other altars, where greedy flames devour the +flesh and blood of babes. I see other temples and other priests and +other altars dripping with the blood of oxen, lambs and doves.</p> +<p>I look again. I see other temples and other priests and other +altars on which are sacrificed the liberties of man. I look. I see +the cathedrals of God, the huts of peasants, the robes of priests +and kings, the rags of honest men. I look again. The lovers of God +are the murderers of men. I see dungeons filled with the noblest +and the best. I see exiles, wanderers, outcasts, millions of +martyrs, widows and orphans. I see the cunning instruments of +torture and hear the shrieks and sobs and moans of millions +dead.</p> +<p>I see the dungeon's gloom, I hear the clank of chains. I see the +fagot's flames, the scorched and blackened face, the writhing +limbs. I hear the jeers and scoffs of pious fiends. I see the +victim on the rack, I hear the tendons as they break. I see a world +beneath the feet of priests, liberty in chains, every virtue a +crime, every crime a virtue, intelligence despised, stupidity +sainted, hypocrisy crowned and the white forehead of honor wearing +the brand of shame. This was.</p> +<p>I look again, and in the East of hope's fair sky the first pale +light shed by the herald star gives promise of another dawn. I +look, and from the ashes, blood and tears the heroes leap to bless +the future and avenge the past. I see a world at war, and in the +storm and chaos of the deadly strife thrones crumble, altars fall, +chains break, creeds change.</p> +<p>The highest peaks are touched with holy light. The dawn has +blossomed. I look again. I see discoverers sailing across +mysterious seas. I see inventors cunningly enslave the forces of +the world. I see the houses being built for schools. Teachers, +interpreters of nature, slowly take the place of priests. +Philosophers arise, thinkers give the world their wealth of brain, +and lips grow rich with words of truth. This is.</p> +<p>I look again, but toward the future now. The popes and priests +and kings are gone,—the altars and the thrones have mingled +with the dust,—the aristocracy of land and cloud have +perished from the earth and-air, and all the gods are dead. A new +religion sheds its glory on mankind. It is the gospel of this +world, the religion of the body, of the heart and brain, the +evangel of health and joy. I see a world at peace, where labor +reaps its true reward, a world without prisons, without workhouses, +without asylums for the insane, a world on which the gibbets shadow +does not fall, a world where the poor girl, trying to win bread +with the needle, the needle that has been called "the asp for the +breast of the poor," is not driven to the desperate choice of crime +or death, of suicide or shame. I see a world without the beggar's +outstretched palm, the miser's heartless, stony stare, the piteous +wail of want, the pallid face of crime, the livid lips of lies, the +cruel eyes of scorn. I see a race without disease of flesh or +brain, shapely and fair, the married harmony of form and use, and +as I look life lengthens, fear dies, joy deepens, love intensifies. +The world is free. This shall be.</p> +<a name="link0009" id="link0009"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h2>ABOUT THE HOLY BIBLE.</h2> +<p>SOMEBODY ought to tell the truth about the Bible. The preachers +dare not, because they would be driven from their pulpits. +Professors in colleges dare not, because they would lose their +salaries. Politicians dare not. They would be defeated. Editors +dare not. They would lose subscribers. Merchants dare not, because +they might lose customers. Men of fashion dare not, fearing that +they would lose caste. Even clerks dare not, because they might be +discharged. And so I thought I would do it myself.</p> +<p>There are many millions of people who believe the Bible to be +the inspired word of God—millions who think that this book is +staff and guide, counselor and consoler; that it fills the present +with peace and the future with hope—millions who believe that +it is the fountain of law, justice and mercy, and that to its wise +and benign teachings the world is indebted for its liberty, wealth +and civilization—millions who imagine that this book is a +revelation from the wisdom and love of God to the brain and heart +of man—millions who regard this book as a torch that conquers +the darkness of death, and pours its radiance on another +world—a world without a tear.</p> +<p>They forget its ignorance and savagery, its hatred of liberty, +its religious persecution; they remember heaven, but they forget +the dungeon of eternal pain.</p> +<p>They forget that it imprisons the brain and corrupts the heart. +They forget that it is the enemy of intellectual freedom. Liberty +is my religion. Liberty of hand and brain—of thought and +labor.</p> +<p>Liberty is a word hated by kings—loathed by popes. It is a +word that shatters thrones and altars—that leaves the crowned +without subjects, and the outstretched hand of superstition without +alms. Liberty is the blossom and fruit of justice—the perfume +of mercy. Liberty is the seed and soil, the air and light, the dew +and rain of progress, love and joy.</p> +<center>I. THE ORIGIN OF THE BIBLE.</center> +<p>A FEW wandering families—poor, wretched, without +education, art or power; descendants of those who had been enslaved +for four hundred years; ignorant as the inhabitants of Central +Africa, had just escaped from their masters to the desert of +Sinai.</p> +<p>Their leader was Moses, a man who had been raised in the family +of Pharaoh and had been taught the law and mythology of Egypt. For +the purpose of controlling his followers he pretended that he was +instructed and assisted by Jehovah, the God of these wanderers.</p> +<p>Everything that happened was attributed to the interference of +this God. Moses declared that he met this God face to face; that on +Sinai's top from the hands of this God he had received the tables +of stone on which, by the finger of this God, the Ten Commandments +had been written, and that, in addition to this, Jehovah had made +known the sacrifices and ceremonies that were pleasing to him and +the laws by which the people should be governed.</p> +<p>In this way the Jewish religion and the Mosaic Code were +established.</p> +<p>It is now claimed that this religion and these laws were and are +revealed and established for all mankind.</p> +<p>At that time these wanderers had no commerce with other nations, +they had no written language, they could neither read nor write. +They had no means by which they could make this revelation known to +other nations, and so it remained buried in the jargon of a few +ignorant, impoverished and unknown tribes for more than two +thousand years.</p> +<p>Many centuries after Moses, the leader, was dead—many +centuries after all his followers had passed away—the +Pentateuch was written, the work of many writers, and to give it +force and authority it was claimed that Moses was the author.</p> +<p>We now know that the Pentateuch was not written by Moses.</p> +<p>Towns are mentioned that were not in existence when Moses +lived.</p> +<p>Money, not coined until centuries after his death, is +mentioned.</p> +<p>So, many of the laws were not applicable to wanderers on the +desert—laws about agriculture, about the sacrifice of oxen, +sheep and doves, about the weaving of cloth, about ornaments of +gold and silver, about the cultivation of land, about harvest, +about the threshing of grain, about houses and temples, about +cities of refuge, and about many other subjects of no possible +application to a few starving wanderers over the sands and +rocks.</p> +<p>It is now not only admitted by intelligent and honest +theologians that Moses was not the author of the Pentateuch, but +they all admit that no one knows who the authors were, or who wrote +any one of these books, or a chapter or a line. We know that the +books were not written in the same generation; that they were not +all written by one person; that they are filled with mistakes and +contradictions.</p> +<p>It is also admitted that Joshua did not write the book that +bears his name, because it refers to events that did not happen +until long after his death.</p> +<p>No one knows, or pretends to know, the author of Judges; all we +know is that it was written centuries after all the judges had +ceased to exist. No one knows the author of Ruth, nor of First and +Second Samuel; all we know is that Samuel did not write the books +that bear his name. In the 25th chapter of First Samuel is an +account of Samuel's death, and in the 27th chapter is an account of +the raising of Samuel by the Witch of Endor.</p> +<p>No one knows the author of First and Second Kings or First and +Second Chronicles; all we know is that these books are of no +value.</p> +<p>We know that the Psalms were not written by David. In the Psalms +the Captivity is spoken of, and that did not happen until about +five hundred years after David slept with his fathers.</p> +<p>We know that Solomon did not write the Proverbs or the Song; +that Isaiah was not the author of the book that bears his name; +that no one knows the author of Job, Ecclesiastes, or Esther, or of +any book in the Old Testament, with the exception of Ezra.</p> +<p>We know that God is not mentioned or in any way referred to in +the book of Esther. We know, too, that the book is cruel, absurd +and impossible.</p> +<p>God is not mentioned in the Song of Solomon, the best book in +the Old Testament.</p> +<p>And we know that Ecclesiastes was written by an unbeliever.</p> +<p>We know, too, that the Jews themselves had not decided as to +what books were inspired—were authentic—until the +second century after Christ.</p> +<p>We know that the idea of inspiration was of slow growth, and +that the inspiration was determined by those who had certain ends +to accomplish.</p> +<center>II.</center> +<p>IF it is, it should be a book that no man—no number of +men—could produce.</p> +<p>It should contain the perfection of philosophy.</p> +<p>It should perfectly accord with every fact in nature.</p> +<p>There should be no mistakes in astronomy, geology, or as to any +subject or science.</p> +<p>Its morality should be the highest, the purest.</p> +<p>Its laws and regulations for the control of conduct should be +just, wise, perfect, and perfectly adapted to the accomplishment of +the ends desired.</p> +<p>It should contain nothing calculated to make man cruel, +revengeful, vindictive or infamous.</p> +<p>It should be filled with intelligence, justice, purity, honesty, +mercy and the spirit of liberty.</p> +<p>It should be opposed to strife and war, to slavery and lust, to +ignorance, credulity and superstition.</p> +<p>It should develop the brain and civilize the heart.</p> +<p>It should satisfy the heart and brain of the best and +wisest.</p> +<p>It should be true.</p> +<p>Does the Old Testament satisfy this standard?</p> +<p>Is there anything in the Old Testament—in history, in +theory, in law, in government, in morality, in science—above +and beyond the ideas, the beliefs, the customs and prejudices of +its authors and the people among whom they lived?</p> +<p>Is there one ray of light from any supernatural source?</p> +<p>The ancient Hebrews believed that this earth was the centre of +the universe, and that the sun, moon and stars were specks in the +sky.</p> +<p>With this the Bible agrees.</p> +<p>They thought the earth was flat, with four corners; that the +sky, the firmament, was solid—the floor of Jehovah's +house.</p> +<p>The Bible teaches the same.</p> +<p>They imagined that the sun journeyed about the earth, and that +by stopping the sun the day could be lengthened.</p> +<p>The Bible agrees with this.</p> +<p>They believed that Adam and Eve were the first man and woman; +that they had been created but a few years before, and that they, +the Hebrews, were their direct descendants.</p> +<p>This the Bible teaches.</p> +<p>If anything is, or can be, certain, the writers of the Bible +were mistaken about creation, astronomy, geology; about the causes +of phenomena, the origin of evil and the cause of death.</p> +<p>Now, it must be admitted that if an Infinite Being is the author +of the Bible, he knew all sciences, all facts, and could not have +made a mistake.</p> +<p>If, then, there are mistakes, misconceptions, false theories, +ignorant myths and blunders in the Bible, it must have been written +by finite beings; that is to say, by ignorant and mistaken men.</p> +<p>Nothing can be clearer than this.</p> +<p>For centuries the church insisted that the Bible was absolutely +true; that it contained no mistakes; that the story of creation was +true; that its astronomy and geology were in accord with the facts; +that the scientists who differed with the Old Testament were +infidels and atheists.</p> +<p>Now this has changed. The educated Christians admit that the +writers of the Bible were not inspired as to any science. They now +say that God, or Jehovah, did not inspire the writers of his book +for the purpose of instructing the world about astronomy, geology, +or any science. They now admit that the inspired men who wrote the +Old Testament knew nothing about any science, and that they wrote +about the earth and stars, the sun and moon, in accordance with the +general ignorance of the time.</p> +<p>It required many centuries to force the theologians to this +admission. Reluctantly, full of malice and hatred, the priests +retired from the field, leaving the victory with science.</p> +<p>They took another position:</p> +<p>They declared that the authors, or rather the writers, of the +Bible were inspired in spiritual and moral things; that Jehovah +wanted to make known to his children his will and his infinite love +for his children; that Jehovah, seeing his people wicked, ignorant +and depraved, wished to make them merciful and just, wise and +spiritual, and that the Bible is inspired in its laws, in the +religion it teaches and in its ideas of government.</p> +<p>This is the issue now. Is the Bible any nearer right in its +ideas of justice, of mercy, of morality or of religion than in its +conception of the sciences?</p> +<p>Is it moral?</p> +<p>It upholds slavery—it sanctions polygamy.</p> +<p>Could a devil have done worse?</p> +<p>Is it merciful?</p> +<p>In war it raised the black flag; it commanded the destruction, +the massacre, of all—of the old, infirm, and +helpless—of wives and babes.</p> +<p>Were its laws inspired?</p> +<p>Hundreds of offences were punished with death. To pick up sticks +on Sunday, to murder your father on Monday, were equal crimes. +There is in the literature of the world no bloodier code. The law +of revenge—of retaliation—was the law of Jehovah. An +eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a limb for a limb.</p> +<p>This is savagery—not philosophy.</p> +<p>Is it just and reasonable?</p> +<p>The Bible is opposed to religious toleration—to religious +liberty. Whoever differed with the majority was stoned to death. +Investigation was a crime. Husbands were ordered to denounce and to +assist in killing their unbelieving wives.</p> +<p>It is the enemy of Art. "Thou shalt make no graven image." This +was the death of Art.</p> +<p>Palestine never produced a painter or a sculptor.</p> +<p>Is the Bible civilized?</p> +<p>It upholds lying, larceny, robbery, murder, the selling of +diseased meat to strangers, and even the sacrifice of human beings +to Jehovah.</p> +<p>Is it philosophical?</p> +<p>It teaches that the sins of a people can be transferred to an +animal—to a goat. It makes maternity an offence for which a +sin offering had to be made.</p> +<p>It was wicked to give birth to a boy, and twice as wicked to +give birth to a girl.</p> +<p>To make hair-oil like that used by the priests was an offence +punishable with death.</p> +<p>The blood of a bird killed over running water was regarded as +medicine.</p> +<p>Would a civilized God daub his altars with the blood of oxen, +lambs and doves? Would he make all his priests butchers? Would he +delight in the smell of burning flesh?</p> +<center>III. THE TEN COMMANDMENTS</center> +<p>SOME Christian lawyers—some eminent and stupid +judges—have said and still say, that the Ten Commandments are +the foundation of all law.</p> +<p>Nothing could be more absurd. Long before these commandments +were given there were codes of laws in India and Egypt—laws +against murder, perjury, larceny, adultery and fraud. Such laws are +as old as human society; as old as the love of life; as old as +industry; as the idea of prosperity; as old as human love.</p> +<p>All of the Ten Commandments that are good were old; all that +were new are foolish. If Jehovah had been civilized he would have +left out the commandment about keeping the Sabbath, and in its +place would have said: "Thou shalt not enslave thy fellow-men." He +would have omitted the one about swearing, and said: "The man shall +have but one wife, and the woman but one husband." He would have +left out the one about graven images, and in its stead would have +said: "Thou shalt not wage wars of extermination, and thou shalt +not unsheathe the sword except in self-defence."</p> +<p>If Jehovah, had been civilized, how much grander the Ten +Commandments would have been.</p> +<p>All that we call progress—the enfranchisement of man, of +labor, the substitution of imprisonment for death, of fine for +imprisonment, the destruction of polygamy, the establishing of free +speech, of the rights of conscience; in short, all that has tended +to the development and civilization of man; all the results of +investigation, observation, experience and free thought; all that +man has accomplished for the benefit of man since the close of the +Dark Ages—has been done in spite of the Old Testament.</p> +<p>Let me further illustrate the morality, the mercy, the +philosophy and goodness of the Old Testament:</p> +<center>THE STORY OF ACHAN.</center> +<p>Joshua took the City of Jericho. Before the fall of the city he +declared that all the spoil taken should be given to the Lord.</p> +<p>In spite of this order Achan secreted a garment, some silver and +gold.</p> +<p>Afterward Joshua tried to take the city of Ai. He failed and +many of his soldiers were slain.</p> +<p>Joshua sought for the cause of his defeat and he found that +Achan had secreted a garment, two hundred shekels of silver and a +wedge of gold. To this Achan confessed.</p> +<p>And thereupon Joshua took Achan, his sons and his daughters, his +oxen and his sheep—stoned them all to death and burned their +bodies.</p> +<p>There is nothing to show that the sons and Daughters had +committed any crime. Certainly, the oxen and sheep should not have +been stoned to death for the crime of their owner. This was the +justice, the mercy, of Jehovah!</p> +<p>After Joshua had committed this crime, with the help of Jehovah +he captured the city of Ai.</p> +<center>THE STORY OF ELISHA.</center> +<p>"And he went up thence unto Bethel, and as he was going up by +the way there came forth little children out of the city and mocked +him, and said unto him, 'Go up, thou baldhead.'</p> +<p>"And he turned back and looked at them, and cursed them in the +name of the Lord. And there came forth two she-bears out of the +wood and tore forty and two children of them."</p> +<p>This was the work of the good God—the merciful +Jehovah!</p> +<center>THE STORY OF DANIEL.</center> +<p>King Darius had honored and exalted Daniel, and the native +princes were jealous. So they induced the king to sign a decree to +the effect that any man who should make a petition to any god or +man except to King Darius, for thirty days, should be cast into the +den of lions.</p> +<p>Afterward these men found that Daniel, with his face toward +Jerusalem, prayed three times a day to Jehovah.</p> +<p>Thereupon Daniel was cast into the den of lions; a stone was +placed at the mouth of the den and sealed with the king's seal.</p> +<p>The king passed a bad night. The next morning he went to the den +and cried out to Daniel. Daniel answered and told the king that God +had sent his angel and shut the mouths of the lions.</p> +<p>Daniel was taken out alive and well, and the king was converted +and believed in Daniel's God.</p> +<p>Darius, being then a believer in the true God, sent for the men +who had accused Daniel, and for their wives and their children, and +cast them all into the lions' den.</p> +<p>"And the lions had the mastery of them, and brake all their +bones in pieces, or ever they came at the bottom of the pit."</p> +<p>What had the wives and little children done? How had they +offended King Darius, the believer in Jehovah? Who protected +Daniel? Jehovah! Who failed to protect the innocent wives and +children? Jehovah!</p> +<center>THE STORY OF JOSEPH.</center> +<p>Pharaoh had a dream, and this dream was interpreted by +Joseph.</p> +<p>According to this interpretation there was to be in Egypt seven +years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine. Joseph advised +Pharaoh to buy all the surplus of the seven plentiful years and +store it up against the years of famine.</p> +<p>Pharaoh appointed Joseph as his minister or agent, and ordered +him to buy the grain of the plentiful years.</p> +<p>Then came the famine. The people came to the king for help. He +told them to go to Joseph and do as he said.</p> +<p>Joseph sold corn to the Egyptians until all their money was +gone—until he had it all.</p> +<p>When the money was gone the people said: "Give us corn and we +will give you our cattle."</p> +<p>Joseph let them have corn until all their cattle, their horses +and their flocks had been given to him.</p> +<p>Then the people said: "Give us corn and we will give you our +lands."</p> +<p>So Joseph let them have corn until all their lands were +gone.</p> +<p>But the famine continued, and so the poor wretches sold +themselves, and they became the servants of Pharoah.</p> +<p>Then Joseph gave them seed, and made an agreement with them that +they should forever give one-fifth of all they raised to +Pharaoh.</p> +<p>Who enabled Joseph to interpret the dream of Pharaoh? Jehovah! +Did he know at the time that Joseph would use the information thus +given to rob and enslave the people of Egypt? Yes. Who produced the +famine? Jehovah!</p> +<p>It is perfectly apparent that the Jews did not think of Jehovah +as the God of Egypt—the God of all the world. He was their +God, and theirs alone. Other nations had gods, but Jehovah was the +greatest of all. He hated other nations and other gods, and +abhorred all religions except the worship of himself.</p> +<center>IV. WHAT IS IT ALL WORTH?</center> +<p>WILL some Christian scholar tell us the value of Genesis?</p> +<p>We know that it is not true—that it contradicts itself. +There are two accounts of the creation in the first and second +chapters. In the first account birds and beasts were created before +man.</p> +<p>In the second, man was created before the birds and beasts.</p> +<p>In the first, fowls are made out of the water.</p> +<p>In the second, fowls are made out of the ground.</p> +<p>In the first, Adam and Eve are created together.</p> +<p>In the second, Adam is made; then the beasts and birds, and then +Eve is created from one of Adam's ribs.</p> +<p>These stories are far older than the Pentateuch.</p> +<p>Persian: God created the world in six days, a man called Adama, +a woman called Evah, and then rested.</p> +<p>The Etruscan, Babylonian, Phoenician, Chaldean and the Egyptian +stories are much the same.</p> +<p>The Persians, Greeks, Egyptians, Chinese and</p> +<p>Hindus have their Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life.</p> +<p>So the Persians, the Babylonians, the Nubians, the people of +Southern India, all had the story of the fall of man and the subtle +serpent.</p> +<p>The Chinese say that sin came into the world by the disobedience +of woman. And even the Tahitians tell us that man was created from +the earth, and the first woman from one of his bones.</p> +<p>All these stories are equally authentic and of equal value to +the world, and all the authors were equally inspired.</p> +<p>We know also that the story of the flood is much older than the +book of Genesis, and we know besides that it is not true.</p> +<p>We know that this story in Genesis was copied from the Chaldean. +There you find all about the rain, the ark, the animals, the dove +that was sent out three times, and the mountain on which the ark +rested.</p> +<p>So the Hindus, Chinese, Parsees, Persians, Greeks, Mexicans and +Scandinavians have substantially the same story.</p> +<p>We also know that the account of the Tower of Babel is an +ignorant and childish fable.</p> +<p>What then is left in this inspired book of</p> +<p>Genesis? Is there a word calculated to develop the heart or +brain? Is there an elevated thought—any great +principle—anything poetic—any word that bursts into +blossom?</p> +<p>Is there anything except a dreary and detailed statement of +things that never happened?</p> +<p>Is there anything in Exodus calculated to make men generous, +loving and noble?</p> +<p>Is it well to teach children that God tortured the innocent +cattle of the Egyptians—bruised them to death with +hailstones—on account of the sins of Pharoah?</p> +<p>Does it make us merciful to believe that God killed the +firstborn of the Egyptians—the firstborn of the poor and +suffering people—of the poor girl working at the +mill—because of the wickedness of the king?</p> +<p>Can we believe that the gods of Egypt worked miracles? Did they +change water into blood, and sticks into serpents?</p> +<p>In Exodus there is not one original thought or line of +value.</p> +<p>We know, if we know anything, that this book was written by +savages—savages who believed in slavery, polygamy and wars of +extermination. We know that the story told is impossible, and that +the miracles were never performed. This book admits that there are +other gods besides Jehovah. In the 17th chapter is this verse: "Now +I know that the Lord is greater than all gods, for, in the thing +wherein they dealt proudly, he was above them."</p> +<p>So, in this blessed book is taught the duty of human +sacrifice—the sacrifice of babes.</p> +<p>In the 22d chapter is this command: "Thou shalt not delay to +offer the first of thy ripe fruits and of thy liquors: the +first-born of thy sons thou shalt give unto me."</p> +<p>Has Exodus been a help or a hindrance to the human race?</p> +<p>Take from Exodus the laws common to all nations, and is there +anything of value left?</p> +<p>Is there anything in Leviticus of importance? Is there a chapter +worth reading? What interest have we in the clothes of priests, the +curtains and candles of the tabernacle, the tongs and shovels of +the altar or the hair-oil used by the Levites?</p> +<p>Of what use the cruel code, the frightful punishments, the +curses, the falsehoods and the miracles of this ignorant and +infamous book?</p> +<p>And what is there in the book of Numbers—with its +sacrifices and water of jealousy, with its shew-bread and spoons, +its kids and fine flour, its oil and candlesticks, its cucumbers, +onions and manna—to assist and instruct mankind? What +interest have we in the rebellion of Korah, the water of +separation, the ashes of a red heifer, the brazen serpent, the +water that followed the people uphill and down for forty years, and +the inspired donkey of the prophet Balaam? Have these absurdities +and cruelties—these childish, savage +superstitions—helped to civilize the world?</p> +<p>Is there anything in Joshua—with its wars, its murders and +massacres, its swords dripping with the blood of mothers and babes, +its tortures, maimings and mutilations, its fraud and fury, its +hatred and revenge—calculated to improve the world?</p> +<p>Does not every chapter shock the heart of a good man? Is it a +book to be read by children?</p> +<p>The book of Joshua is as merciless as famine, as ferocious as +the heart of a wild beast. It is a history—a +justification—a sanctification of nearly every crime.</p> +<p>The book of Judges is about the same, nothing but war and +bloodshed; the horrible story of Jael and Sisera; of Gideon and his +trumpets and pitchers; of Jephtha and his daughter, whom he +murdered to please Jehovah.</p> +<p>Here we find the story of Samson, in which a sun-god is changed +to a Hebrew giant.</p> +<p>Read this book of Joshua—read of the slaughter of women, +of wives, of mothers and babes—read its impossible miracles, +its ruthless crimes, and all done according to the commands of +Jehovah, and tell me whether this book is calculated to make us +forgiving, generous and loving.</p> +<p>I admit that the history of Ruth is in some respects a beautiful +and touching story; that it is naturally told, and that her love +for Naomi was deep and pure. But in the matter of courtship we +would hardly advise our daughters to follow the example of Ruth. +Still, we must remember that Ruth was a widow.</p> +<p>Is there anything worth reading in the first and second books of +Samuel? Ought a prophet of God to hew a captured king in pieces? Is +the story of the ark, its capture and return of importance to us? +Is it possible that it was right, just and merciful to kill fifty +thousand men because they had looked into a box? Of what use to us +are the wars of Saul and David, the stories of Goliath and the +Witch of Endor? Why should Jehovah have killed Uzzah for putting +forth his hand to steady the ark, and forgiven David for murdering +Uriah and stealing his wife?</p> +<p>According to "Samuel," David took a census of the people. This +excited the wrath of Jehovah, and as a punishment he allowed David +to choose seven years of famine, a flight of three months from +pursuing enemies, or three days of pestilence. David, having +confidence in God, chose the three days of pestilence; and, +thereupon, God, the compassionate, on account of the sin of David, +killed seventy thousand innocent men!</p> +<p>Under the same circumstances, what would a devil have done?</p> +<p>Is there anything in First and Second Kings that suggests the +idea of inspiration?</p> +<p>When David is dying he tells his son Solomon to murder +Joab—not to let his hoar head go down to the grave in peace. +With his last breath he commands his son to bring down the hoar +head of Shimei to the grave with blood. Having uttered these +merciful words, the good David, the man after God's heart, slept +with his fathers.</p> +<p>Was it necessary to inspire the man who wrote the history of the +building of the temple, the story of the visit of the Queen of +Sheba, or to tell the number of Solomon's wives?</p> +<p>What care we for the withering of Jereboam's hand, the prophecy +of Jehu, or the story of Elijah and the ravens?</p> +<p>Can we believe that Elijah brought flames from heaven, or that +he went at last to Paradise in a chariot of fire?</p> +<p>Can we believe in the multiplication of the widow's oil by +Elisha, that an army was smitten with blindness, or that an axe +floated in the water?</p> +<p>Does it civilize us to read about the beheading of the seventy +sons of Ahab, the putting out of the eyes of Zedekiah and the +murder of his sons? Is there one word in First and Second Kings +calculated to make men better?</p> +<p>First and Second Chronicles is but a re-telling of what is told +in First and Second Kings. The same old stories—a little left +out, a little added, but in no respect made better or worse.</p> +<p>The book of Ezra is of no importance. He tells us that Cyrus, +King of Persia, issued a proclamation for building a temple at +Jerusalem, and that he declared Jehovah to be the real and only +God.</p> +<p>Nothing could be more absurd. Ezra tells us about the return +from captivity, the building of the temple, the dedication, a few +prayers, and this is all. This book is of no importance, of no +use.</p> +<p>Nehemiah is about the same, only it tells of the building of the +wall, the complaints of the people about taxes, a list of those who +returned from Babylon, a catalogue of those who dwelt at Jerusalem, +and the dedication of the walls.</p> +<p>Not a word in Nehemiah worth reading.</p> +<p>Then comes the book of Esther:</p> +<p>In this we are told that King Ahasueras was intoxicated; that he +sent for his Queen, Vashti, to come and show herself to him and his +guests. Vashti refused to appear.</p> +<p>This maddened the king, and he ordered that from every province +the most beautiful girls should be brought before him that he might +choose one in place of Vashti.</p> +<p>Among others was brought Esther, a Jewess. She was chosen and +became the wife of the king. Then a gentleman by the name of Haman +wanted to have all the Jews killed, and the king, not knowing that +Esther was of that race, signed a decree that all the Jews should +be killed.</p> +<p>Through the efforts of Mordecai and Esther the decree was +annulled and the Jews were saved.</p> +<p>Haman prepared a gallows on which to have Mordecai hanged, but +the good Esther so managed matters that Haman and his ten sons were +hanged on the gallows that Haman had built, and the Jews were +allowed to murder more than seventy-five thousand of the king's +subjects.</p> +<p>This is the inspired story of Esther.</p> +<p>In the book of Job we find some elevated sentiments, some +sublime and foolish thoughts, something of the wonder and sublimity +of nature, the joys and sorrows of life; but the story is +infamous.</p> +<p>Some of the Psalms are good, many are indifferent, and a few are +infamous. In them are mingled the vices and virtues. There are +verses that elevate, verses that degrade. There are prayers for +forgiveness and revenge. In the literature of the world there is +nothing more heartless, more infamous, than the 109th Psalm.</p> +<p>In the Proverbs there is much shrewdness, many pithy and prudent +maxims, many wise sayings. The same ideas are expressed in many +ways—the wisdom of economy and silence, the dangers of vanity +and idleness. Some are trivial, some are foolish, and many are +wise. These proverbs are not generous—not altruistic. Sayings +to the same effect are found among all nations.</p> +<p>Ecclesiastes is the most thoughtful book in the Bible. It was +written by an unbeliever—a philosopher—an agnostic. +Take out the interpolations, and it is in accordance with the +thought of the nineteenth century. In this book are found the most +philosophic and poetic passages in the Bible.</p> +<p>After crossing the desert of death and crime—after reading +the Pentateuch, Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings and +Chronicles—it is delightful to reach this grove of palms, +called the "Song of Solomon." A drama of love—of human love; +a poem without Jehovah—a poem born of the heart and true to +the divine instincts of the soul.</p> +<p>"I sleep, but my heart waketh."</p> +<p>Isaiah is the work of several. Its swollen words, its vague +imagery, its prophecies and curses, its ravings against kings and +nations, its laughter at the wisdom of man, its hatred of joy, have +not the slightest tendency to increase the well-being of man.</p> +<p>In this book is recorded the absurdest of all miracles. The +shadow on the dial is turned back ten degrees, in order to satisfy +Hezekiah that Jehovah will add fifteen years to his life.</p> +<p>In this miracle the world, turning from west to east at the rate +of more than a thousand miles an hour, is not only stopped, but +made to turn the other way until the shadow on the dial went back +ten degrees! Is there in the whole world an intelligent man or +woman who believes this impossible falsehood?</p> +<p>Jeremiah contains nothing of importance—no facts of value; +nothing but fault-finding, lamentations, croakings, wailings, +curses and promises; nothing but famine and prayer, the prosperity +of the wicked, the ruin of the Jews, the captivity and return, and +at last Jeremiah, the traitor, in the stocks and in prison.</p> +<p>And Lamentations is simply a continuance of the ravings of the +same insane pessimist; nothing but dust and sackcloth and ashes, +tears and howls, railings and revilings.</p> +<p>And Ezekiel—eating manuscripts, prophesying siege and +desolation, with visions of coals of fire, and cherubim, and wheels +with eyes, and the type and figure of the boiling pot, and the +resurrection of dry bones—is of no use, of no possible +value.</p> +<p>With Voltaire, I say that any one who admires Ezekiel should be +compelled to dine with him.</p> +<p>Daniel is a disordered dream—a nightmare.</p> +<p>What can be made of this book with its image with a golden head, +with breast and arms of silver, with belly and thighs of brass, +with legs of iron, and with feet of iron and clay; with its writing +on the wall, its den of lions, and its vision of the ram and +goat?</p> +<p>Is there anything to be learned from Hosea and his wife? Is +there anything of use in Joel, in Amos, in Obadiah? Can we get any +good from Jonah and his gourd? Is it possible that God is the real +author of Micah and Nahum, of Habakkuk and Zephaniah, of Haggai and +Malachi and Zechariah, with his red horses, his four horns, his +four carpenters, his flying roll, his mountains of brass and the +stone with four eyes?</p> +<p>Is there anything in these "inspired" books that has been of +benefit to man?</p> +<p>Have they taught us how to cultivate the earth, to build houses, +to weave cloth, to prepare food? Have they taught us to paint +pictures, to chisel statues, to build bridges, or ships, or +anything of beauty or of use? Did we get our ideas of government, +of religious freedom, of the liberty of thought, from the Old +Testament? Did we get from any of these books a hint of any +science? Is there in the "sacred volume" a word, a line, that has +added to the wealth, the intelligence and the happiness of mankind? +Is there one of the books of the Old Testament as entertaining as +"Robinson Crusoe," "The Travels of Gulliver," or "Peter Wilkins and +his Flying Wife"? Did the author of Genesis know as much about +nature as Humboldt, or Darwin, or Haeckel? Is what is called the +Mosaic Code as wise or as merciful as the code of any civilized +nation? Were the writers of Kings and Chronicles as great +historians, as great writers, as Gibbon and Draper? Is Jeremiah, or +Habakkuk equal to Dickens or Thackeray? Can the authors of Job and +the Psalms be compared with Shakespeare? Why should we attribute +the best to man and the worst to God?</p> +<center>V. WAS JEHOVAH A GOD OF LOVE?</center> +<p>Did these words come from the heart of love?—</p> +<p>"When the Lord thy God shall drive them before thee, thou shalt +smite them and utterly destroy them; thou shalt make no covenant +with them, or show mercy unto them."</p> +<p>"I will heap mischief upon them. I will send mine arrows upon +them; they shall be burned with hunger and devoured with burning +heat and with bitter destruction."</p> +<p>"I will send the tooth of beasts upon them, with the poison of +serpents of the dust."</p> +<p>"The sword without, and terror within, shall destroy both the +young man and the virgin; the suckling also with the man of gray +hairs."</p> +<p>"Let his children be fatherless and his wife a widow; let his +children be continually vagabonds and beg; let them seek their +bread also out of their desolate places; let the extortioner catch +all that he hath, and let the stranger spoil his labor; let there +be none to extend mercy unto him, neither let there be any to favor +his fatherless children."</p> +<p>"And thou shalt eat the fruit of thine own body—the flesh +of thy sons and daughters."</p> +<p>"And the heaven that is over thee shall be brass, and the earth +that is under thee shall be iron."</p> +<p>"Cursed shalt thou be in the city, and cursed shalt thou be in +the field."</p> +<p>"I will make my arrows drunk with blood."</p> +<p>"I will laugh at their calamity.".</p> +<p>Did these curses, these threats, come from the heart of love or +from the mouth of savagery?</p> +<p>Was Jehovah god or devil?</p> +<p>Why should we place Jehovah above all the gods?</p> +<p>Has man in his ignorance and fear ever imagined a greater +monster?</p> +<p>Have the barbarians of any land, in any time, worshiped a more +heartless god?</p> +<p>Brahma was a thousand times nobler, and so was Osiris and Zeus +and Jupiter. So was the supreme god of the Aztecs, to whom they +offered only the perfume of flowers. The worst god of the Hindus, +with his necklace of skulls and his bracelets of living snakes, was +kind and merciful compared with Jehovah.</p> +<p>Compared with Marcus Aurelius, how small Jehovah seems. Compared +with Abraham Lincoln, how cruel, how contemptible, is this god.</p> +<center>VI. JEHOVAH'S ADMINISTRATION.</center> +<p>HE created the world, the hosts of heaven, a man and +woman—placed them in a garden. Then the serpent deceived +them, and they were cast out and made to earn their bread.</p> +<p>Jehovah had been thwarted.</p> +<p>Then he tried again. He went on for about sixteen hundred years +trying to civilize the people.</p> +<p>No schools, no churches, no Bible, no tracts—nobody taught +to read or write. No Ten Commandments. The people grew worse and +worse, until the merciful Jehovah sent the flood and drowned all +the people except Noah and his family, eight in all.</p> +<p>Then he started again, and changed their diet. At first Adam and +Eve were vegetarians. After the flood Jehovah said: "Every moving +thing that liveth shall be meat for you"—snakes and +buzzards.</p> +<p>Then he failed again, and at the Tower of Babel he dispersed and +scattered the people.</p> +<p>Finding that he could not succeed with all the people, he +thought he would try a few, so he selected Abraham and his +descendants. Again he failed, and his chosen people were captured +by the Egyptians and enslaved for four hundred years.</p> +<p>Then he tried again—rescued them from Pharaoh and started +for Palestine.</p> +<p>Then he changed their diet, allowing them to eat only the beasts +that parted the hoof and chewed the cud. Again he failed. The +people hated him, and preferred the slavery of Egypt to the freedom +of Jehovah. So he kept them wandering until nearly all who came +from Egypt had died. Then he tried again—took them into +Palestine and had them governed by judges.</p> +<p>This, too, was a failure—no schools, no Bible. Then he +tried kings, and the kings were mostly idolaters.</p> +<p>Then the chosen people were conquered and carried into captivity +by the Babylonians.</p> +<p>Another failure.</p> +<p>Then they returned, and Jehovah tried prophets—howlers and +wailers—but the people grew worse and worse. No schools, no +sciences, no arts, no commerce. Then Jehovah took upon himself +flesh, was born of a woman, and lived among the people that he had +been trying to civilize for several thousand years. Then these +people, following the law that Jehovah had given them in the +wilderness, charged this Jehovah-man—this Christ—with +blasphemy; tried, convicted and killed him.</p> +<p>Jehovah had failed again.</p> +<p>Then he deserted the Jews and turned his attention to the rest +of the world.</p> +<p>And now the Jews, deserted by Jehovah, persecuted by Christians, +are the most prosperous people on the earth. Again has Jehovah +failed.</p> +<p>What an administration!</p> +<center>VII. THE NEW TESTAMENT.</center> +<p>WHO wrote the New Testament?</p> +<p>Christian scholars admit that they do not know. They admit that, +if the four gospels were written by Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, +they must have been written in Hebrew. And yet a Hebrew manuscript +of any one of these gospels has never been found. All have been and +are in Greek. So, educated theologians admit that the Epistles, +James and Jude, were written by persons who had never seen one of +the four gospels. In these Epistles—in James and +Jude—no reference is made to any of the gospels, nor to any +miracle recorded in them.</p> +<p>The first mention that has been found of one of our gospels was +made about one hundred and eighty years after the birth of Christ, +and the four gospels were first named and quoted from at the +beginning of the third century, about one hundred and seventy years +after the death of Christ.</p> +<p>We now know that there were many other gospels besides our four, +some of which have been lost.</p> +<p>There were the gospels of Paul, of the Egyptians, of the +Hebrews, of Perfection, of Judas, of Thaddeus, of the Infancy, of +Thomas, of Mary, of Andrew, of Nicodemus, of Marcion and several +others.</p> +<p>So there were the Acts of Pilate, of Andrew, of Mary, of Paul +and Thecla and of many others; also a book called the Shepherd of +Hermas.</p> +<p>At first not one of all the books was considered as inspired. +The Old Testament was regarded as di vine; but the books that now +constitute the New Testament were regarded as human productions. We +now know that we do not know who wrote the four gospels.</p> +<p>The question is, Were the authors of these four gospels +inspired?</p> +<p>If they were inspired, then the four gospels must be true. If +they are true, they must agree.</p> +<p>The four gospels do not agree.</p> +<p>Matthew, Mark and Luke knew nothing of the atonement, nothing of +salvation by faith. They knew only the gospel of good +deeds—of charity. They teach that if we forgive others God +will forgive us.</p> +<p>With this the gospel of John does not agree.</p> +<p>In that gospel we are taught that we must believe on the Lord +Jesus Christ; that we must be born again; that we must drink the +blood and eat the flesh of Christ. In this gospel we find the +doctrine of the atonement and that Christ died for us and suffered +in our place.</p> +<p>This gospel is utterly at variance with, the other three. If the +other three are true, the gospel of John is false. If the gospel of +John was written by an inspired man, the writers of the other three +were uninspired. From this there is no possible escape. The four +cannot be true.</p> +<p>It is evident that there are many interpolations in the four +gospels.</p> +<p>For instance, in the 28th chapter of Matthew is an account to +the effect that the soldiers at the tomb of Christ were bribed to +say that the disciples of Jesus stole away his body while they, the +soldiers, slept.</p> +<p>This is clearly an interpolation. It is a break in the +narrative.</p> +<p>The 10th verse should be followed by the 16th. The 10th verse is +as follows:</p> +<p>"Then Jesus said unto them, 'Be not afraid; go tell my brethren +that they go unto Galilee and there shall they see me.'"</p> +<p>The 16th verse:</p> +<p>"Then the eleven disciples went away unto Galilee into a +mountain, where Jesus had appointed them."</p> +<p>The story about the soldiers contained in the 11th, 12th, 13th, +14th and 15th verses is an interpolation—an +afterthought—long after. The 15th verse demonstrates +this.</p> +<p>Fifteenth verse: "So they took the money and did as they were +taught. And this saying is commonly reported among the Jews until +this day."</p> +<p>Certainly this account was not in the original gospel, and +certainly the 15th verse was not written by a Jew. No Jew could +have written this: "And this saying is commonly reported among the +Jews until this day."</p> +<p>Mark, John and Luke never heard that the soldiers had been +bribed by the priests; or, if they had, did not think it worth +while recording. So the accounts of the Ascension of Jesus Christ +in Mark and Luke are interpolations. Matthew says nothing about the +Ascension.</p> +<p>Certainly there never was a greater miracle, and yet Matthew, +who was present—who saw the Lord rise, ascend and +disappear—did not think it worth mentioning.</p> +<p>On the other hand, the last words of Christ, according to +Matthew, contradict the Ascension: "Lo I am with you always, even +unto the end of the world." John, who was present, if Christ really +ascended, says not one word on the subject.</p> +<p>As to the Ascension, the gospels do not agree. Mark gives the +last conversation that Christ had with his disciples, as +follows:</p> +<p>"Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every +creature. He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved; but he +that believeth not shall be damned. And these signs shall follow +them that believe: In my name shall they cast out devils; they +shall speak with new tongues. They shall take up serpents, and if +they drink any deadly thing it shall not hurt them; they shall lay +hands on the sick and they shall recover. So, then, after the Lord +had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven and sat on the +right hand of God."</p> +<p>Is it possible that this description was written by one who +witnessed this miracle?</p> +<p>This miracle is described by Luke as follows: "And it came to +pass while he blessed them he was parted from them and carried up +into heaven."</p> +<p>"Brevity is the soul of wit."</p> +<p>In the Acts we are told that: "When he had spoken, while they +beheld, he was taken up, and a cloud received him out of their +sight."</p> +<p>Neither Luke, nor Matthew, nor John, nor the writer of the Acts, +heard one word of the conversation attributed to Christ by Mark. +The fact is that the Ascension of Christ was not claimed by his +disciples.</p> +<p>At first Christ was a man—nothing more. Mary was his +mother, Joseph his father. The genealogy of his father, Joseph, was +given to show that he was of the blood of David.</p> +<p>Then the claim was made that he was the son of God, and that his +mother was a virgin, and that she remained a virgin until her +death.</p> +<p>Then the claim was made that Christ rose from the dead and +ascended bodily to heaven.</p> +<p>It required many years for these absurdities to take possession +of the minds of men.</p> +<p>If Christ rose from the dead, why did he not appear to his +enemies? Why did he not call on Caiaphas, the high priest? Why did +he not make another triumphal entry into Jerusalem?</p> +<p>If he really ascended, why did he not do so in public, in the +presence of his persecutors? Why should this, the greatest of +miracles, be done in secret, in a corner?</p> +<p>It was a miracle that could have been seen by a vast +multitude—a miracle that could not be simulated—one +that would have convinced hundreds of thousands.</p> +<p>After the story of the Resurrection, the Ascension became a +necessity. They had to dispose of the body.</p> +<p>So there are many other interpolations in the gospels and +epistles.</p> +<p>Again I ask: Is the New Testament true? Does anybody now believe +that at the birth of Christ there was a celestial greeting; that a +star led the Wise Men of the Bast; that Herod slew the babes of +Bethlehem of two years old and under?</p> +<p>The gospels are filled with accounts of miracles. Were they ever +performed?</p> +<p>Matthew gives the particulars of about twenty-two miracles, Mark +of about nineteen, Luke of about eighteen and John of about +seven.</p> +<p>According to the gospels, Christ healed diseases, cast out +devils, rebuked the sea, cured the blind, fed multitudes with five +loaves and two fishes, walked on the sea, cursed a fig tree, turned +water into wine and raised the dead.</p> +<p>Matthew is the only one that tells about the Star and the Wise +Men—the only one that tells about the murder of babes.</p> +<p>John is the only one who says anything about the resurrection of +Lazarus, and Luke is the only one giving an account of the raising +from the dead the widow of Nain's son.</p> +<p>How is it possible to substantiate these miracles?</p> +<p>The Jews, among whom they were said to have been performed, did +not believe them. The diseased, the palsied, the leprous, the blind +who were cured, did not become followers of Christ. Those that were +raised from the dead were never heard of again.</p> +<p>Does any intelligent man believe in the existence of devils? The +writer of three of the gospels certainly did. John says nothing +about Christ having cast out devils, but Matthew, Mark and Luke +give many instances.</p> +<p>Does any natural man now believe that Christ cast out devils? If +his disciples said he did, they were mistaken. If Christ said he +did, he was insane or an impostor.</p> +<p>If the accounts of casting out devils are false, then the +writers were ignorant or dishonest. If they wrote through +ignorance, then they were not inspired. If they wrote what they +knew to be false, they were not inspired. If what they wrote is +untrue, whether they knew it or not, they were not inspired.</p> +<p>At that time it was believed that palsy, epilepsy, deafness, +insanity and many other diseases were caused by devils; that devils +took possession of and lived in the bodies of men and women. Christ +believed this, taught this belief to others, and pretended to cure +diseases by casting devils out of the sick and insane. We know now, +if we know anything, that diseases are not caused by the presence +of devils. We know, if we know anything, that devils do not reside +in the bodies of men.</p> +<p>If Christ said and did what the writers of the three gospels say +he said and did, then Christ was mistaken. If he was mistaken, +certainly he was not God. And if he was mistaken, certainly he was +not inspired.</p> +<p>Is it a fact that the Devil tried to bribe Christ?</p> +<p>Is it a fact that the Devil carried Christ to the top of the +temple and tried to induce him to leap to the ground?</p> +<p>How can these miracles be established?</p> +<p>The principals have written nothing, Christ has written nothing, +and the Devil has remained silent.</p> +<p>How can we know that the Devil tried to bribe Christ? Who wrote +the account? We do not know. How did the writer get his +information? We do not know.</p> +<p>Somebody, some seventeen hundred years ago, said that the Devil +tried to bribe God; that the Devil carried God to the top of the +temple and tried to induce him to leap to the earth and that God +was intellectually too keen for the Devil.</p> +<p>This is all the evidence we have.</p> +<p>Is there anything in the literature of the world more perfectly +idiotic?</p> +<p>Intelligent people no longer believe in witches, wizards, spooks +and devils, and they are perfectly satisfied that every word in the +New Testament about casting out devils is utterly false.</p> +<p>Can we believe that Christ raised the dead?</p> +<p>A widow living in Nain is following the body of her son to the +tomb. Christ halts the funeral procession and raises the young man +from the dead and gives him back to the arms of his mother.</p> +<p>This young man disappears. He is never heard of again. No one +takes the slightest interest in the man who returned from the realm +of death. Luke is the only one who tells the story. Maybe Matthew, +Mark and John never heard of it, or did not believe it and so +failed to record it.</p> +<p>John says that Lazarus was raised from the dead; Matthew, Mark +and Luke say nothing about it.</p> +<p>It was more wonderful than the raising of the widow's son. He +had not been laid in the tomb for days. He was only on his way to +the grave, but Lazarus was actually dead. He had begun to +decay.</p> +<p>Lazarus did not excite the least interest. No one asked him +about the other world. No one inquired of him about their dead +friends.</p> +<p>When he died the second time no one said: "He is not afraid. He +has traveled that road twice and knows just where he is going."</p> +<p>We do not believe in the miracles of Mohammed, and yet they are +as well attested as this. We have no confidence in the miracles +performed by Joseph Smith, and yet the evidence is far greater, far +better.</p> +<p>If a man should go about now pretending to raise the dead, +pretending to cast out devils, we would regard him as insane. What, +then, can we say of Christ? If we wish to save his reputation we +are compelled to say that he never pretended to raise the dead; +that he never claimed to have cast out devils.</p> +<p>We must take the ground that these ignorant and impossible +things were invented by zealous disciples, who sought to deify +their leader.</p> +<p>In those ignorant days these falsehoods added to the fame of +Christ. But now they put his character in peril and belittle the +authors of the gospels.</p> +<p>Can we now believe that water was changed into wine? John tells +of this childish miracle, and says that the other disciples were +present, yet Matthew, Mark and Luke say nothing about it.</p> +<p>'Take the miracle of the man cured by the pool of Bethseda. John +says that an angel troubled the waters of the pool of Bethseda, and +that whoever got into the pool first after the waters were troubled +was healed.</p> +<p>Does anybody now believe that an angel went into the pool and +troubled the waters? Does anybody now think that the poor wretch +who got in first was healed? Yet the author of the gospel according +to John believed and asserted these absurdities. If he was mistaken +about that he may have been about all the miracles he records.</p> +<p>John is the only one who tells about this pool of Bethseda. +Possibly the other disciples did not believe the story.</p> +<p>How can we account for these pretended miracles?</p> +<p>In the days of the disciples, and for many centuries after, the +world was filled with the supernatural. Nearly everything that +happened was regarded as miraculous. God was the immediate governor +of the world. If the people were good, God sent seed time and +harvest; but if they were bad he sent flood and hail, frost and +famine. If anything wonderful happened it was exaggerated until it +became a miracle.</p> +<p>Of the order of events—of the unbroken and the unbreakable +chain of causes and effects—the people had no knowledge and +no thought.</p> +<p>A miracle is the badge and brand of fraud. No miracle ever was +performed. No intelligent, honest man ever pretended to perform a +miracle, and never will.</p> +<p>If Christ had wrought the miracles attributed to him; if he had +cured the palsied and insane; if he had given hearing to the deaf, +vision to the blind; if he had cleansed the leper with a word, and +with a touch had given life and feeling to the withered limb; if he +had given pulse and motion, warmth and thought, to cold and +breathless clay; if he had conquered death and rescued from the +grave its pallid prey—no word would have been uttered, no +hand raised, except in praise and honor. In his presence all heads +would have been uncovered—all knees upon the ground.</p> +<p>Is it not strange that at the trial of Christ no one was found +to say a word in his favor? No man stood forth and said: "I was a +leper, and this man cured me with a touch." No woman said: "I am +the widow of Nain and this is my son whom this man raised from the +dead."</p> +<p>No man said: "I was blind, and this man gave me sight."</p> +<p>All silent</p> +<center>VIII. THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHRIST</center> +<p>MILLIONS assert that the philosophy of Christ is +perfect—that he was the wisest that ever littered speech.</p> +<p>Let us see:</p> +<p><i>Resist not evil. If smitten on one cheek turn the +other</i>.</p> +<p>Is there any philosophy, any wisdom in this? Christ takes from +goodness, from virtue, from the truth, the right of self-defence. +Vice becomes the master of the world, and the good become the +victims of the infamous.</p> +<p>No man has the right to protect himself, his property, his wife +and children. Government becomes impossible, and the world is at +the mercy of criminals. Is there any absurdity beyond this?</p> +<p><i>Love your enemies</i>.</p> +<p>Is this possible? Did any human being ever love his enemies? Did +Christ love his, when he denounced them as whited sepulchers, +hypocrites and vipers?</p> +<p>We cannot love those who hate us. Hatred in the hearts of others +does not breed love in ours. Not to resist evil is absurd; to love +your enemies is impossible.</p> +<p><i>Take no thought for the morrow</i>.</p> +<p>The idea was that God would take care of us as he did of +sparrows and lilies. Is there the least sense in that belief?</p> +<p>Does God take care of anybody?</p> +<p>Can we live without taking thought for the morrow? To plow, to +sow, to cultivate, to harvest, is to take thought for the morrow. +We plan and work for the future, for our children, for the unborn +generations to come. Without this forethought there could be no +progress, no civilization. The world would go back to the caves and +dens of savagery.</p> +<p><i>If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out. If thy right hand +offend thee, cut it off.</i></p> +<p>Why? Because it is better that one of our members should perish +than that the whole body should be cast into hell.</p> +<p>Is there any wisdom in putting out your eyes or cutting off your +hands? Is it possible to extract from these extravagant sayings the +smallest grain of common sense?</p> +<p><i>Swear not at all; neither by Heaven, for it is God's throne; +nor by the Earth, for it is his footstool; nor by Jerusalem, for it +is his holy city.</i></p> +<p>Here we find the astronomy and geology of Christ. Heaven is the +throne of God, the monarch; the earth is his footstool. A footstool +that turns over at the rate of a thousand miles an hour, and sweeps +through space at the rate of over a thousand miles a minute!</p> +<p>Where did Christ think heaven was? Why was Jerusalem a holy +city? Was it because the inhabitants were ignorant, cruel and +superstitious?</p> +<p><i>If any man will sue thee at the law and take away thy coat +let him have thy cloak also</i>.</p> +<p>Is there any philosophy, any good sense, in that commandment? +Would it not be just as sensible to say: "If a man obtains a +judgment against you for one hundred dollars, give him two +hundred."</p> +<p>Only the insane could give or follow this advice.</p> +<p><i>Think not I am come to send peace on earth. I came not to +send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance +against his father, and the daughter against her mother.</i></p> +<p>If this is true, how much better it would have been had he +remained away.</p> +<p>Is it possible that he who said, "Resist not evil," came to +bring a sword? That he who said, "Love your enemies," came to +destroy the peace of the world?</p> +<p>To set father against son, and daughter against +father—what a glorious mission!</p> +<p>He did bring a sword, and the sword was wet for a thousand years +with innocent blood. In millions of hearts he sowed the seeds of +hatred and revenge. He divided nations and families, put out the +light of reason, and petrified the hearts of men.</p> +<p><i>And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or +sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for +my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, shall inherit +everlasting life.</i></p> +<p>According to the writer of Matthew, Christ, the compassionate, +the merciful, uttered these terrible words. Is it possible that +Christ offered the bribe of eternal joy to those who would desert +their fathers, their mothers, their wives and children? Are we to +win the happiness of heaven by deserting the ones we love? Is a +home to be ruined here for the sake of a mansion there?</p> +<p>And yet it is said that Christ is an example for all the world. +Did he desert his father and mother? He said, speaking to his +mother: "Woman, what have I to do with, thee?"</p> +<p>The Pharisees said unto Christ: "Is it lawful to pay tribute +unto Cæsar?"</p> +<p>Christ said: "Show me the tribute money." They brought him a +penny. And he saith unto them: "Whose is the image and the +superscription?" They said: "Cæsar's." And Christ said: +"Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's."</p> +<p>Did Christ think that the money belonged to Cæsar because +his image and superscription were stamped upon it? Did the penny +belong to Cæsar or to the man who had earned it? Had +Cæsar the right to demand it because it was adorned with his +image?</p> +<p>Does it appear from this conversation that Christ understood the +real nature and use of money?</p> +<p>Can we now say that Christ was the greatest of philosophers?</p> +<center>IX. IS CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE?</center> +<p>HE never said a word in favor of education. He never even hinted +at the existence of any science. He never uttered a word in favor +of industry, economy or of any effort to better our condition in +this world. He was the enemy of the successful, of the wealthy. +Dives was sent to hell, not because he was bad, but because he was +rich. Lazarus went to heaven, not because he was good, but because +he was poor.</p> +<p>Christ cared nothing for painting, for sculpture, for +music—nothing for any art. He said nothing about the duties +of nation to nation, of king to subject; nothing about the rights +of man; nothing about intellectual liberty or the freedom of +speech. He said nothing about the sacredness of home; not one word +for the fireside; not a word in favor of marriage, in honor of +maternity.</p> +<p>He never married. He wandered homeless from place to place with +a few disciples. None of them seem to have been engaged in any +useful business, and they seem to have lived on alms. .</p> +<p>All human ties were held in contempt; this world was sacrificed +for the next; all human effort was discouraged. God would support +and protect.</p> +<p>At last, in the dusk of death, Christ, finding that he was +mistaken, cried out: "My God! My God! Why hast thou forsaken +me?"</p> +<p>We have found that man must depend on himself. He must clear the +land; he must build the home; he must plow and plant; he must +invent; he must work with hand and brain; he must overcome the +difficulties and obstructions; he must conquer and enslave the +forces of nature to the end that they may do the work of the +world.</p> +<center>X. WHY SHOULD WE PLACE CHRIST AT THE TOP AND SUMMIT OF THE +HUMAN RACE?</center> +<p>AS he kinder, more forgiving, more self-sacrificing than Buddha? +Was he wiser, did he meet death with more perfect calmness, than +Socrates? Was he more patient, more charitable, than Epictetus? Was +he a greater philosopher, a deeper thinker, than Epicurus? In what +respect was he the superior of Zoroaster? Was he gentler than +Lao-tsze, more universal than Confucius? Were his ideas of human +rights and duties superior to those of Zeno? Did he express grander +truths than Cicero? Was his mind subtler than Spinoza's? Was his +brain equal to Kepler's or Newton's? Was he grander in +death—a sublimer martyr than Bruno? Was he in intelligence, +in the force and beauty of expression, in breadth and scope of +thought, in wealth of illustration, in aptness of comparison, in +knowledge of the human brain and heart, of all passions, hopes and +fears, the equal of Shakespeare, the greatest of the human +race?</p> +<p>If Christ was in fact God, he knew all the future.</p> +<p>Before Him like a panorama moved the history yet to be. He knew +how his words would be interpreted. He knew what crimes, what +horrors, what infamies, would be committed in his name. He knew +that the hungry flames of persecution would climb around the limbs +of countless martyrs. He knew that thousands and thousands of brave +men and women would languish in dungeons in darkness, filled with +pain. He knew that his church would invent and use instruments of +torture; that his followers would appeal to whip and fagot, to +chain and rack. He saw the horizon of the future lurid with the +flames of the auto da fe. He knew what creeds would spring like +poisonous fungi from every text. He saw the ignorant sects waging +war against each other. He saw thousands of men, under the orders +of priests, building prisons for their fellow-men. He saw thousands +of scaffolds dripping with the best and bravest blood. He saw his +followers using the instruments of pain. He heard the +groans—saw the faces white with agony. He heard the shrieks +and sobs and cries of all the moaning, martyred multitudes. He knew +that commentaries would be written on his words with swords, to be +read by the light of fagots. He knew that the Inquisition would be +born of the teachings attributed to him.</p> +<p>He saw the interpolations and falsehoods that hypocrisy would +write and tell. He saw all wars that would be waged, and-he knew +that above these fields of death, these dungeons, these rackings, +these burnings, these executions, for a thousand years would float +the dripping banner of the cross.</p> +<p>He knew that hypocrisy would be robed and crowned—that +cruelty and credulity would rule the world; knew that liberty would +perish from the earth; knew that popes and kings in his name would +enslave the souls and bodies of men; knew that they would persecute +and destroy the discoverers, thinkers and inventors; knew that his +church would extinguish reason's holy light and leave the world +without a star.</p> +<p>He saw his disciples extinguishing the eyes of men, flaying them +alive, cutting out their tongues, searching for all the nerves of +pain.</p> +<p>He knew that in his name his followers would trade in human +flesh; that cradles would be robbed and women's breasts unbabed for +gold.</p> +<p>And yet he died with voiceless lips.</p> +<p>Why did he fail to speak? Why did he not tell his disciples, and +through them the world: "You shall not burn, imprison and torture +in my name. You shall not persecute your fellow-men."</p> +<p>Why did he not plainly say: "I am the Son of God," or, "I am +God"? Why did he not explain the Trinity? Why did he not tell the +mode of baptism that was pleasing to him? Why did he not write a +creed? Why did he not break the chains of slaves? Why did he not +say that the Old Testament was or was not the inspired word of God? +Why did he not write the New Testament himself? Why did he leave +his words to ignorance, hypocrisy and chance? Why did he not say +something positive, definite and satisfactory about another world? +Why did he not turn the tear-stained hope of heaven into the glad +knowledge of another life? Why did he not tell us something of the +rights of man, of the liberty of hand and brain?</p> +<p>Why did he go dumbly to his death, leaving the world to misery +and to doubt?</p> +<p>I will tell you why. He was a man, and did not know.</p> +<center>XI. INSPIRATION</center> +<p>NOT before about the third century was it claimed or believed +that the books composing the New Testament were inspired.</p> +<p>It will be remembered that there were a great number of books of +Gospels, Epistles and Acts, and that from these the "inspired" ones +were selected by "uninspired" men.</p> +<p>Between the "Fathers" there were great differences of opinion as +to which books were inspired; much discussion and plenty of hatred. +Many of the books now deemed spurious were by many of the "Fathers" +regarded as divine, and some now regarded as inspired were believed +to be spurious. Many of the early Christians and some of the +"Fathers" repudiated the Gospel of John, the Epistle to the +Hebrews, Jude, James, Peter, and the Revelation of St. John. On the +other hand, many of them regarded the Gospel of the Hebrews, of the +Egyptians, the Preaching ol Peter, the Shepherd of Hermas, the +Epistle of Barnabas, the Pastor of Hermas, the Revelation of Peter, +the Revelation of Paul, the Epistle of Clement, the Gospel of +Nicodemus, inspired Books, equal to the very best.</p> +<p>From all these books, and many others, the Christians selected +the inspired ones.</p> +<p>The men who did the selecting were ignorant and superstitious. +They were firm believers in the miraculous. They thought that +diseases had been cured by the aprons and handkerchiefs of the +apostles, by the bones of the dead. They believed in the fable of +the Phoenix, and that the hyenas changed their sex every year.</p> +<p>Were the men who through many centuries made the selections +inspired? Were they—ignorant, credulous, stupid and +malicious—as well qualified to judge of "inspiration" as the +students of our time? How are we bound by their opinion? Have we +not the right to judge for ourselves?</p> +<p>Erasmus, one of the leaders of the Reformation, declared that +the Epistle to the Hebrews was not written by Paul, and he denied +the inspiration of Second and Third John, and also of Revelation. +Luther was of the same opinion. He declared James to be an epistle +of straw, and denied the inspiration of Revelation. Zwinglius +rejected the book of Revelation, and even Calvin denied that Paul +was the author of Hebrews.</p> +<p>The truth is that the Protestants did not agree as to what books +are inspired until 1647, by the Assembly of Westminster.</p> +<p>To prove that a book is inspired you must prove the existence of +God. You must also prove that this God thinks, acts, has objects, +ends and aims. This Is somewhat difficult.</p> +<p>It is impossible to conceive of an infinite being. Having no +conception of an infinite being, it is impossible to tell whether +all the facts we know tend to prove or disprove the existence of +such a being.</p> +<p>God is a guess. If the existence of God is admitted, how are we +to prove that he inspired the writers of the books of the +Bible?</p> +<p>How can one man establish the inspiration of another? How can an +inspired man prove that he is inspired? How can he know himself +that he is inspired? There is no way to prove the fact of +inspiration. The only evidence is the word of some man who could by +no possibility know anything on the Subject.</p> +<p>What is inspiration? Did God use men as instruments? Did he +cause them to write his thoughts? Did he take possession of their +minds and destroy their wills?</p> +<p>Were these writers only partly controlled, so that their +mistakes, their ignorance and their prejudices were mingled with +the wisdom of God?</p> +<p>How are we to separate the mistakes of man from the thoughts of +God? Can we do this without being inspired ourselves? If the +original writers were inspired, then the translators should have +been, and so should be the men who tell us what the Bible +means.</p> +<p>How is it possible for a human being to know that he is inspired +by an infinite being? But of one thing we may be certain: An +inspired book should certainly excel all the books produced by +uninspired men. It should, above all, be true, filled with wisdom, +blossoming in beauty—perfect.</p> +<p>Ministers wonder how I can be wicked enough to attack the +Bible.</p> +<p>I will tell them:</p> +<p>This book, the Bible, has persecuted, even unto death, the +wisest and the best. This book stayed and stopped the onward +movement of the human race. This book poisoned the fountains of +learning and misdirected the energies of man.</p> +<p>This book is the enemy of freedom, the support of slavery. This +book sowed the seeds of hatred in families and nations, fed the +flames of war, and impoverished, the world. This book is the +breastwork of kings and tyrants—the enslaver of women and +children. This book has corrupted parliaments and courts. This book +has made colleges and, universities the teachers of error and the +haters of science. This book has filled Christendom with hateful, +cruel, ignorant and warring sects. This book taught men to kill +their fellows for religion's sake. This book founded the +Inquisition, invented the instruments of torture, built the +dungeons in which the good and loving languished, forged the chains +that rusted in their flesh, erected the scaffolds whereon they +died. This book piled fagots about the feet of the just. This book +drove reason from the minds of millions and filled the asylums with +the insane.</p> +<p>This book has caused fathers and mothers to shed the blood of +their babes. This book was the auction block on which the +slave-mother stood when she was sold from her child. This book +filled the sails of the slave-trader and made merchandise of human +flesh. This book lighted the fires that, burned "witches" and +"wizards." This book filled the darkness with ghouls and ghosts, +and the bodies of men and women with devils. This book polluted the +souls of men with the infamous dogma of eternal pain. This book +made credulity the greatest of virtues, and investigation the +greatest of crimes. This book filled nations with hermits, monks +and nuns—with the pious and the useless. This book placed the +ignorant and unclean saint above the philosopher and +philanthropist. This book taught man to despise the joys of this +life, that he might be happy in another—to waste this world +for the sake of the next.</p> +<p>I attack this book because it is the enemy of human +liberty—the greatest obstruction across the highway of human +progress.</p> +<p>Let me ask the ministers one question: How can you be wicked +enough to defend this book?</p> +<center>XII. THE REAL BIBLE.</center> +<p>OR thousands of years men have been writing the real Bible, and +it is being written from day to day, and it will never be finished +while man has life. All the facts that we know, all the truly +recorded events, all the discoveries and inventions, all the +wonderful machines whose wheels and levers seem to think, all the +poems, crystals from the brain, flowers from the heart, all the +songs of love and joy, of smiles and tears, the great dramas of +Imagination's world, the wondrous paintings, miracles of form and +color, of light and shade, the marvelous marbles that seem to live +and breathe, the secrets told by rock and star, by dust and flower, +by rain and snow, by frost and flame, by winding stream and desert +sand, by mountain range and billowed sea.</p> +<p>All the wisdom that lengthens and ennobles life—all that +avoids or cures disease, or conquers pain—all just and +perfect laws and rules that guide and shape our lives, all thoughts +that feed the flames of love, the music that transfigures, +enraptures and enthralls, the victories of heart and brain, the +miracles that hands have wrought, the deft and cunning hands of +those who worked for wife and child, the histories of noble deeds, +of brave and useful men, of faithful loving wives, of quenchless +mother-love, of conflicts for the right, of sufferings for the +truth, of all the best that all the men and women of the world have +said, and thought and done through all the years.</p> +<p>These treasures of the heart and brain—these are the +Sacred Scriptures of the human race.</p> +<div style="height: 6em;"><br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<br /> +<table summary="" border="3" cellpadding="4"> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td><big><big><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38813/38813-h/38813-h.htm"> +TABLE OF CONTENTS FOR ALL 12 EBOOKS IN THIS SET</a></big></big></td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> +<br /> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +</body> +</html> |