"Mankind is an ass, who kicks those who endeavor to take off
his panniers."
--Spanish Proverb.
NO ONE need go to Spain to meet with animals who kick you if you serve
them. Spanish asses are to be found in every land. Could we see the legs
of truth, we should find them black and blue with the kicks received in
unloosening the panniers of error, strapped by priests on the backs of
the people. Even philosophers kick as well as the ignorant, when new
ideas are brought before them. No improvement would ever be attempted if
friends of truth were afraid of the asses' hoofs in the air.
He who maintains that mankind can be largely improved by material means,
imposes on himself the responsibility of employing such means, and
of promoting their use as far as he can, and trusting to their
efficacy,--not being discouraged because he is but one, and mankind are
many. No man can read all the books, or do all the work, of the world.
It is enough that each reads what he needs, and, in matter of moral
action, does all he can. He who does less, fails in his duty to himself
and to others.
Christian doctrine has none of the responsibility which Secularism
imposes. If there be vice or rapine, oppression or murder, the purely
Christian conscience is absolved. It is the Lord's world, and nothing
could occur unless he permitted it. If any Christian heart is moved to
compassion, it commonly exudes in prayer. He "puts the matter before the
Lord and leaves it in His hands." The Secularist takes it into his own.
What are his hands for? The Christian can sit still and see children
grow up with rickets in their body and rickets in their soul. He will
see them die in a foul atmosphere, where no angel could come to receive
their spirit without first stopping his nose with his handkerchief, as
I have seen Lord Palmerston do on entering Harrow on Speech Day. The
Christian can make money out of unrequited labor. When he dies, he makes
no reparation to those who earned his wealth, but leaves it to build a
church, as though he thought God was blind, not knowing (if Christ spake
truly) that the Devil is sitting in the fender in his room, ready to
carry his soul up the chimney to bear Dives company. Why should he be
anxious to mitigate inequality of human condition? It is the Lord's
will, or it would not be. When it was seen that I was ceasing to believe
this, Christians in the church to which I belonged knelt around me, and
prayed that I might be influenced not to go out into the world to see
if these things could be improved. It was no light duty I imposed on
myself.
A Secularist is mindful of Carlyle's saying, "No man is a saint in his
sleep." Indeed, if any one takes upon himself the responsibility of
bettering by reason the state of things, he will be kept pretty well
awake with his understanding.
Many persons think their own superiority sufficient for mankind, and do
not wish their exclusiveness to be encroached upon. Their plea is that
they distrust the effect of setting the multitude free from mental
tyranny, and they distrust democracy, which would sooner or later end
political tyranny.
These men of dainty distrust have a crowd of imitators, in whom nobody
recognises any superiority to justify their misgivings as to others. The
distrust of independence in the hands of the people arises mainly from
the dislike of the trouble it takes to educate the ignorant in its use
and limit. The Secularist undertakes this trouble as far as his means
permit. As an advocate of open thought and the free action of opinion,
he counts the responsibility of trust in the people as a duty.
It will be asked, What are the deterrent influences upon which
Secularism relies for rendering vice, of the major or minor kind,
repellent? It relies upon making it clear that in the order of nature
retribution treads upon the heels of transgression, and, if tardy in
doing it, its steps should be hastened.
The mark of error of life is--disease. Science can take the body to
pieces, and display mischief palpable to the eyes, when the results of
vice startle, like an apparition, those who discern that:
"Their acts their angels are,--if good; if ill,
Their fatal shadows that walk by them still."
A man is not so ready to break the laws of nature when he sees he will
break himself in doing it. He may not fear God, but he fears fever
and consumption. He may have a gay heart, but he will not like the
occupation of being his own sexton and digging his own grave. When he
sees that death lurks in the frequent glass, for instance, that spoils
the flavor of the wine. He takes less pride in the beeswing who sees
the shroud in the bottle. He may hope that God will forgive him, but he
knows that death will not. He who holds the scythe is accustomed to cut
down fools, whether they be peers or sweeps. Death knows the fool at a
glance. To prevent any mistake, Disease has marked him with her broad
arrow. The young man who once has his eyes well open to this state
of the case, will be considerate as to the quality of his pleasures,
especially when he knows that alluring but unwholesome pleasure is in
the pay of death. Temperance advocates made more converts by exhibiting
the biological effects of alcohol than by all their exhortations.
The moral nature of man is as palpable as the physical to those who look
for its signs. There is a moral squint in the judgment, as plain to be
seen as a cast in the eyes. The voice is not honest; it has the accent
of a previous conviction in it. The speech has contortions of meaning in
it. The sense is limp and flaccid, showing that the mind is flabby.
Such a one has the backbone of a fish; he does not stand upright. As the
Americans say, he does not "stand square" to anything. There is no moral
pulse in his heart. If you could take hold of his soul, it would feel
like a dead oyster, and would slip through your fingers. Everybody knows
these people. You don't consult them; you don't trust them. You would
rather have no business transactions with them. If they are in a
political movement, you know they will shuffle when the pinch of
principle comes.
Crime has its consequences, and criminals, little and great, know it.
When Alaric A. Watts wrote of the last Emperor of the French:--
"Safe art thou, Louis!--for a time;
But tremble!--never yet was crime,
Beyond one little space, secure.
The coward and the brave alike
Can wait and watch, can rush and strike.
Which marks thee? One of them, be rare,--"
few thought the bold prediction true; but it came to pass, and the
Napoleonic name and race became extinct, to the relief of Europe.
Trouble comes from avowing unpopular ideas. Diderot well saw this when
he said: "There is less inconvenience in being mad with the mad than
in being wise by oneself." One who regards truth as duty will accept
responsibilities. It is the American idea
"To make a man and leave him be."
But we must be sure we have made him a man,--self-acting, guided by
reasoned proof, and one who, as Archbishop Whately said, "believes the
principles he maintains, and maintains them because he believes them."
A man is not a man while under superstition, nor is he a man when free
from it, unless his mind is built on principles conducive and incentive
to the service of man.