"Every religion is a getting religion; for though I myself get nothing,
I am subordinate to those that do. So you may find a lawyer in the
Temple that gets little for the present; but he is fitting himself to be
in time one of those great ones that do get."--Selden's Table Talk.
"The Divine stands wrapt up in his cloud of mysteries, and the amused
Laity must pay Tithes and Veneration to be kept in obscurity, grounding
their hope of future knowledge on a competent stock of present
ignorance."--George Farquhar.
Religion and priestcraft may not be the same thing in _essence_. That
is a point on which we do not intend to dogmatise, and this is not the
opportunity to argue it. But _practically_ religion and priestcraft
_are_ the same thing. They are inextricably bound up together,. and
they will suffer a common fate. In saying this, however, we must
be understood to use the word "religion" in its ordinary sense, as
synonymous with _theology_. Religion as non-supernatural, as the
idealism of morality, the sovereign bond of collective society, is a
matter with which we are not at present concerned.
Priestcraft did not _invent_ religion. To believe that it did is
the error of an impulsive and uninformed scepticism. But priestcraft
developed it, systematised it, enforced it, and perpetuated it. This
could not be effected, however, except in alliance with the temporal
power; and accordingly, in every country--savage, barbaric, or
civilised--the priests and the privileged classes are found in harmony.
They have occasional differences, but these are ultimately adjusted.
Sometimes the priesthood overrules the temporal power, but more
frequently the former gives way to the latter; indeed, it is instructive
to watch how the course of religion has been so largely determined by
political influences. The development of Judaism was almost entirely
controlled by the political vicissitudes of the Hebrews. The political
power really decided the great controversy between Arianism and
Athanasianism. Politics again, twelve hundred years later, settled the
bounds of the Reformation, not only for the moment, but for subsequent
centuries. Where the prince's sword was thrown into the scale, it
determined the balance. England, for instance, was non-papal Catholic
under Henry VIII., Protestant under Edward VI., papal-Catholic under
Mary, and Protestant again under Elizabeth; although every one of these
changes, according to the clergy, was dictated by the Holy Ghost.
Priests and the privileged classes _must_ settle their differences
in some way, otherwise the people would become too knowing, and too
independent. The co-operation of impostor and robber is necessary to the
bamboozlement and exploitation of the masses. This co-operation, indeed,
is the great secret of the permanence of religion; and its policy is
twofold--education and the power of money.
The value of _education_ may be inferred from the frantic efforts of the
clergy to build and maintain schools of their own, and to force their
doctrines into the schools built and maintained by the State. In this
respect there is nothing to choose between Church and Dissent.
The reading of the Bible in Board schools is a compromise between
themselves, lest a worse thing should befall them both. If one section
were strong enough to upset the compromise it would do so; in fact,
the Church party is now attempting this stroke of policy on the London
School Board, with the avowed object of giving a Church color to-the
religious teaching of the children. The very same principle was at
work in former days, when none but Churchmen were admitted to the
universities or public positions. It was a splendid means of maintaining
the form of religion which was bound up with the monarchy and the
aristocracy. Learning and influence were, as far as possible, kept on
the side of the established faith, which thus became the master of
the masters of the people. This is perfectly obvious to the student of
history, and Freethinkers should lay its lesson to heart. It is only by
driving religion entirely out of education, from the humblest school to
the proudest college, that we shall ever succeed in breaking the power
of priestcraft and freeing the people from the bondage of superstition.
We could write a volume on this theme--the power of education in
maintaining religion; but we must be satisfied with the foregoing at
present, and turn our attention to the power of _money_. It is a wise
adage that money is the sinews of war. Fighting is very largely, often
wholly, a question of resources. Troops may be ever so brave, generals
ever so skilful, but they will be beaten unless they have good rifles
and artillery, plenty of ammunition, and an ample commissariat. Now the
same thing obtains in _all_ warfare. It would be foolish, no less than
base, to deny the inspiring efficacy of ideas, the electric force of
enthusiasm; but, however highly men may be energised, they cannot act
without instruments; and money buys them, whether the instruments
be rifles and artillery, or schools, or churches, or any kind of
organisation.
Given churches with great wealth, as well as control over public
education, and it is easy to see that they will be able to perpetuate
themselves. Endowments are specially valuable. They are rooted, so to
speak, in the past, and hold firm. They bear golden fruit to be plucked
by the skilful and adventurous. Besides, the very age of an endowed
institution gives it a venerable ora; and its freedom from the full
necessity of "cadging" lends it a certain "respectability"--like that of
a man who lives on his means, instead of earning his living.
It is not an extravagant calculation that, in England alone, twenty
millions a year are spent on religion. The figures fall glibly from the
tongue, but just try to realise them! Think first of a thousand, then of
a thousand thousand, then of twenty times that. Take a single million,
and think what its expenditure might do in the shaping of public
opinion. A practical friend of ours, a good Radical and Freethinker,
said that he would undertake to create a majority for Home Rule in
England with a million of money; and if he spent it judiciously, we
think he might succeed. Well then, just imagine, not one million, but
twenty millions, spent _every year_ in maintaining and propagating a
certain religion. Is it not enough, and more than enough, to perpetuate
a system which is firmly founded, to begin with, on the education of
little children?
Here lies the strength of Christianity. It is not true, it is not
useful. Its teachings and pretensions are both seen through by tens
of thousands, but the wealth supports it. "Without money and without
price," is the fraudulent language of the pious prospectus. It would
never last on those terms. The money keeps it up. Withdraw the money,
and the Black Army would disband, leaving the people free to work out
their secular salvation, without the fear and trembling of a foolish
faith.