_The Church_
Contains passages, both of exhortation and denunciation,
dealing with the relation of the church toward modern problems,
and the effort to bring back a property-strangled institution
to the revolutionary gospel of its founder.
God and My Neighbor
BY ROBERT BLATCHFORD
(See pages 66, 121, 170)
"For all that, Robert, you're a notorious Infidel." I
paused--just opposite the Tivoli--and gazed moodily up and down
the Strand.
As I have remarked elsewhere, I like the Strand. It is a very
human place. But I own that the Strand lacks dignity and
beauty, and that amongst its varied odors the odor of sanctity
is scarcely perceptible.
There are no trees in the Strand. The thoroughfare should be
wider. The architecture is, for the most part, banal. For a
chief street in a Christian capital, the Strand is not eloquent
of high national ideals.
There are derelict churches in the Strand, and dingy, blatant
taverns, and strident signs and hoardings; and there are slums
hard by.
There are thieves in the Strand, and prowling vagrants, and
gaunt hawkers, and touts, and gamblers, and loitering failures,
with tragic eyes and wilted garments; and prostitutes plying
for hire.
And east and west, and north and south of the Strand, there
is London. Is there a man amongst all London's millions brave
enough to tell the naked truth about the vice and crime, the
misery and meanness, the hypocrisies and shames of the great,
rich, heathen city? Were such a man to arise amongst us and
voice the awful truth, what would his reception be? How would
he fare at the hands of the Press, and the Public--and the
Church?
As London is, so is England. This is a Christian country.
What would Christ think of Park Lane, and the slums, and the
hooligans? What would He think of the Stock Exchange, and the
music hall, and the race-course? What would He think of our
national ideals? What would He think of the House of Peers, and
the Bench of Bishops, and the Yellow Press?
Pausing again, over against Exeter Hall, I mentally
apostrophize the Christian British people. "Ladies and
Gentlemen," I say, "you are Christians in name, but I discern
little of Christ in your ideals, your institutions, or your
daily lives. You are a mercenary, self-indulgent, frivolous,
boastful, blood-guilty mob of heathen. I like you very much,
but that is what you are. And it is you--_you_ who call men
'Infidels.' You ridiculous creatures, what do you mean by it?"
If to praise Christ in words, and deny Him in deeds, be
Christianity, then London is a Christian city, and England is
a Christian nation. For it is very evident that our common
English ideals are anti-Christian, and that our commercial,
foreign, and social affairs are run on anti-Christian lines.
Renan says, in his _Life of Jesus_, that "were Jesus to return
amongst us He would recognize as His disciples, not those who
imagine they can compress Him into a few catechismal phrases,
but those who labour to carry on his work."
My Christian friends, I am a Socialist, and as such believe in,
and work for, universal freedom, and universal brotherhood, and
universal peace.
And you are Christians, and I am an "Infidel." Well, be it even
so.
FROM THE GOSPEL OF LUKE
When he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it,
saying, if thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy
day, the things which belong unto thy peace!
From the Bottom Up
BY ALEXANDER IRVINE
(The life-story of an Irish peasant lad, born 1863, who
became in turn stableman, man-of-war's-man, slum-missionary,
clergyman, and Socialist agitator)
After some years' experience in missions and mission churches,
I would find it very hard if I were a workingman living in a
tenement not to be antagonistic to them; for, in large measure,
such work is done on the assumption that people are poor and
degraded through laxity in morals. The scheme of salvation is
a salvation for the individual; social salvation is out of the
question. Social conditions cannot be touched, because in all
rotten social conditions, there is a thin red line which always
leads to the rich man or woman who is responsible for them.
Coming in contact with these ugly social facts continuously,
led me to this belief. It came very slowly; as did also the
opinion that the missionary himself or the pastor, be he as
wise as Solomon, as eloquent as Demosthenes, as virtuous as St.
Francis, has no social standing whatever among the people whose
alms support the institutions, religious and philanthropic, of
which he is the executive head. The fellowship of the saints is
a pure fiction, has absolutely no foundation in fact in a city
like New York except as the poor saints have it by themselves.
FROM THE GOSPEL OF JOHN
If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar:
for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can
he love God whom he hath not seen? And this commandment have we
from him, that he who loveth God love his brother also.
The Inside of the Cup[A]
[A] By permission of the Macmillan Co.
BY WINSTON CHURCHILL
(One of the most popular of American novelists, born 1871. This story
has for its theme the failure of the Church in the face of modern
social problems. In the following scene a rich man is rebuked by his
pastor)
The perceptions of the banker were keen, and his sense of
security was brief. Somehow, as he met the searching eye of
the rector, he was unable to see the man as a visionary, but
beheld and,--to do him justice--felt a twinge of respect for
an adversary worthy of his steel. He, who was accustomed
to prepare for clouds when they were mere specks on his
horizon, paused even now to marvel why he had not dealt
with this. Here was a man--a fanatic, if he liked--but
still a man who positively did not fear him, to whom his
wrath and power were as nothing! A new and startling and
complicated sensation--but Eldon Parr was no coward. If he
had, consciously or unconsciously, formerly looked upon the
clergyman as a dependent, Hodder appeared to be one no more.
The very ruggedness of the man had enhanced, expanded--as
it were--until it filled the room. And Hodder had, with an
audacity unparalleled in the banker's experience, arraigned by
implication his whole life, managed to put him on the defensive.
"But if that has become your philosophy," the rector
said--"that a man must look out for himself--what is it in you
that impels you to give these large sums for the public good?"
"I should suppose that you, as a clergyman, might understand
that my motive is a Christian one."
Hodder sat very still, but a higher light came into his eyes.
"Mr. Parr," he replied, "I have been a friend of yours, and I
am a friend still. And what I am going to tell you is not only
in the hope that others may benefit, but that your own soul
may be saved. I mean that literally--your own soul. You are
under the impression that you are a Christian, but you are not
and never have been one. And you will not be one until your
whole life is transformed, until you become a different man.
If you do not change, it is my duty to warn you that sorrow
and suffering, the uneasiness which you now know, and which
drive you on, in search of distraction, to adding useless sums
of money to your fortune--this suffering, I say, will become
intensified. You will die in the knowledge of it, and live on
after, in the knowledge of it."
In spite of himself, the financier drew back before this
unexpected blast, the very intensity of which had struck a
chill of terror in his inmost being. He had been taken off his
guard,--for he had supposed the day long past--if it had ever
existed--when a spiritual rebuke would upset him; the day long
past when a minister _could_ pronounce one with any force. That
the Church should ever again presume to take herself seriously
had never occurred to him. And yet--the man had denounced
him in a moment of depression, of nervous irritation and
exasperation against a government which had begun to interfere
with the sacred liberty of its citizens, against political
agitators who had spurred that government on. The world was
mad. No element, it seemed, was now content to remain in its
proper place. His voice, as he answered, shook with rage,--all
the greater because the undaunted sternness by which it was
confronted seemed to reduce it to futility.
"Take care!" he cried, "take care! You, nor any other man,
clergyman or no clergyman, have any right to be the judge of my
conduct."
"On the contrary," said Hodder, "if your conduct affects the
welfare, the progress, the reputation of the church of which I
am rector, I have the right. And I intend to exercise it. It
becomes my duty, however painful, to tell you, as a member of
the Church, wherein you have wronged the Church and wronged
yourself."
He didn't raise his tone, and there was in it more of sorrow
than of indignation. The banker turned an ashen gray.... A
moment elapsed before he spoke, a transforming moment. He
suddenly became ice.
"Very well," he said. "I can't pretend to account for these
astounding views you have acquired--and I am using a mild term.
Let me say this" (he leaned forward a little, across the desk):
"I demand that you be specific. I am a busy man, I have little
time to waste, I have certain matters before me which must be
attended to to-night. I warn you that I will not listen any
longer to vague accusations."
It was Hodder's turn to marvel. Did Eldon Parr, after all, have
no sense of guilt? Instantaneously, automatically, his own
anger rose.
"You may be sure, Mr. Parr, that I should not be here unless I
were prepared to be specific. And what I am going to say to you
I have reserved for your ear alone, in the hope that you will
take it to heart while it is not yet too late, and amend your
life accordingly...."
(The clergyman tells the banker of lives that have been ruined
by his financial dishonesties.)
"I am not talking about the imperfect code of human justice
under which we live, Mr. Parr," he cried. "This is not a case
in which a court of law may exonerate you, it is between
you and your God. But I have taken the trouble to find out,
from unquestioned sources, the truth about the Consolidated
Tractions Company--I shall not go into the details at
length--they are doubtless familiar to you. I know that the
legal genius of Mr. Langmaid, one of my vestry, made possible
the organization of the company, and thereby evaded the plain
spirit of the law of the state. I know that one branch line
was bought for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and
capitalized for three millions, and that most of the others
were scandalously over-capitalized. I know that while the
coming transaction was still a secret, you and other gentlemen
connected with the matter bought up large interests in other
lines, which you proceeded to lease _to yourselves_ at
guaranteed dividends which these lines do not earn. I know
that the first large dividend was paid out of capital. And the
stock which you sold to poor Garvin was so hopelessly watered
that it never could have been anything but worthless. If, in
spite of these facts, you do not deem yourself responsible for
the misery which has been caused, if your conscience is now
clear, it is my duty to tell you that there is a higher bar of
justice."
The intensity of the fire of the denunciation had, indeed,
a momentary yet visible effect in the banker's expression.
Whatever the emotions thus lashed to self-betrayal, anger,
hatred,--fear, perhaps, Hodder could not detect a trace of
penitence; and he was aware, on the part of the other, of
a supreme, almost spasmodic effort for self-control. The
constitutional reluctance of Eldon Parr to fight openly could
not have been more clearly demonstrated.
"Because you are a clergyman, Mr. Hodder," he began, "because
you are the rector of St. John's, I have allowed you to say
things to me which I would not have permitted from any other
man. I have tried to take into account your point of view,
which is naturally restricted, your pardonable ignorance of
what business men, who wish to do their duty by Church and
State, have to contend with. When you came to this parish you
seemed to have a sensible, a proportional view of things; you
were content to confine your activities to your own sphere,
content not to meddle with politics and business, which you
could, at first hand, know nothing about. The modern desire
of clergymen to interfere in these matters has ruined the
usefulness of many of them.
"I repeat, I have tried to be patient. I venture to hope,
still, that this extraordinary change in you may not be
permanent, but merely the result of a natural sympathy with the
weak and unwise and unfortunate who are always to be found in a
complex civilization. I can even conceive how such a discovery
must have shocked you, temporarily aroused your indignation,
as a clergyman, against the world as it is--and, I may add,
as it has always been. My personal friendship for you, and my
interest in your future welfare impel me to make a final appeal
to you not to ruin a career which is full of promise...."
"I hinted to you awhile ago of a project I have conceived and
almost perfected of gifts on a much larger scale than I have
ever attempted." The financier stared at him meaningly. "And I
had you in mind as one of the three men whom I should consult,
whom I should associate with myself in the matter. We cannot
change human nature, but we can better conditions by wise
giving. I do not refer now to the settlement house, which I am
ready to help make and maintain as the best in the country,
but I have in mind a system to be carried out with the consent
and aid of the municipal government, of playgrounds, baths,
parks, places of recreation, and hospitals, for the benefit of
the people, which will put our city in the very forefront of
progress. And I believe, as a practical man, I can convince you
that the betterment which you and I so earnestly desire can be
brought about in no other way. Agitation can only result in
anarchy and misery for all."
Hodder's wrath, as he rose from his chair, was of the sort
that appears incredibly to add to the physical stature,--the
bewildering spiritual wrath which is rare indeed, and carries
all before it.
"Don't tempt me, Mr. Parr!" he said. "Now that I know the
truth, I tell you frankly I would face poverty and persecution
rather than consent to your offer. And I warn you once more not
to flatter yourself that existence ends here, that you will
not be called to answer for every wrong act you have committed
in accumulating your fortune, that what you call business
is an affair of which God takes no account. What I say may
seem foolishness to you, but I tell you, in the words of that
Foolishness, that it will not profit you to gain the whole
world and lose your own soul. You remind me that the Church in
old time accepted gifts from the spoils of war, and I will add
of rapine and murder. And the Church today, to repeat your
own parallel, grows rich with money wrongfully got. Legally?
Ah, yes, legally, perhaps. But that will not avail you. And
the kind of church you speak of--to which I, to my shame, once
consented--Our Lord repudiates. It is none of his. I warn you,
Mr. Parr, in his Name, first to make your peace with your
brothers before you presume to lay another gift on the altar."
During this withering condemnation of himself Eldon Parr sat
motionless, his face grown livid, an expression on it that
continued to haunt Hodder long afterwards. An expression,
indeed, which made the banker almost unrecognizable.
"Go," he whispered, his hand trembling visibly as he pointed
towards the door. "Go--I have had enough of this."
Trinity Church
BY EDWIN DAVIES SCHOONMAKER
(Contemporary American poet)
In vain she points her finger to the sky
And sends her voice along the famous street,
Admonishing how the mortal hours fleet
And bidding men bethink that they must die.
Tearing the coat of Christ they jostle by
And ply their gambling at her very feet.
"Prepare, prepare, prepare thy God to meet!"
She loudly calls. They do not heed her. Why?
Thou, stuffed with tithes of them that traffic here,
Flesh of their flesh, and with thy spotted hand
Buying and selling, fattening year by year,
How darest thou rebuke this venal band?
Thou mocker of the man of Galilee,
Prepare to meet thy God, thou Pharisee.
[Illustration: TO SUSTAIN THE BODY OF THE CHURCH, IF YOU PLEASE
DENIS AUGUSTE MARIE RAFFET
(_French illustrator, 1804-1860_)]
[Illustration: CHRIST
JOHN MOWBRAY-CLARKE
(_Contemporary American sculptor_)]
The Church and the Workers
BY WALTER RAUSCHENBUSCH
(See page 346)
The stratification of society is becoming more definite in
our country, and the people are becoming more conscious of
it. The industrial conflicts make them realize how their
interests diverge from those of the commercial class. As that
consciousness increases, it becomes harder for the two classes
to meet in the expression of Christian faith and love--in
prayer meetings, for instance. When the Christian business man
is presented as a model Christian, working people are coming
to look with suspicion on these samples of our Christianity.
I am not justifying that, but simply stating the fact. They
disapprove of the Christianity of the churches, not because it
is too good, but because it is not good enough. The working
people are now developing the principle and practice of
solidarity, which promises to be one of the most potent ethical
forces of the future, and which is essentially more Christian
than the covetousness and selfishness which we regard as the
indispensable basis of commerce. If this is a correct diagnosis
of our condition, is it strange that the Church is unable
to evangelize a class alienated from it by divergent class
interests and class morality?
Tainted Wealth
BY JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE
(See page 298)
Capacious is the Church's belly;
Whole nations it has swallowed down,
Yet no dyspepsia 'neath its gown;
The Church alone, in jewels drest,
Your "tainted wealth" can quite digest.
The Collection
BY ERNEST HOWARD CROSBY
(American writer and social reformer, 1856-1907)
I passed the plate in church.
There was little silver, but the crisp bank-notes heaped themselves up
high before me;
And ever as the pile grew, the plate became warmer and warmer until it
burned my fingers, and a smell of scorching flesh rose from it, and I
perceived that some of the notes were beginning to smoulder and curl,
half-browned, at the edges.
And then I saw thru the smoke into the very substance of the money,
and I beheld what it really was;
I saw the stolen earnings of the poor, the wide margins of wages pared
down to starvation;
I saw the underpaid factory girl eking out her living on the street,
and the overworked child, and the suicide of the discharged miner;
I saw poisonous gases from great manufactories spreading disease and
death; ...
I saw hideousness extending itself from coal mine and foundry over
forest and river and field;
I saw money grabbed from fellow grabbers and swindlers, and underneath
them the workman forever spinning it out of his vitals....
I saw all this, and the plate burned my fingers so that I had to hold
it first in one hand and then in the other; and I was glad when the
parson in his white robes took the smoking pile from me on the chancel
steps and, turning about, lifted it up and laid it on the altar.
It was an old-time altar indeed, for it bore a burnt offering of flesh
and blood--a sweet savor unto the Moloch whom these people worship
with their daily round of human sacrifices.
The shambles are in the temple as of yore, and the tables of the
money-changers, waiting to be overturned.
BY ÉMILE DE LAVELAYE
(Belgian economist, 1822-1892)
If Christianity were taught and understood conformably to the
spirit of its Founder, the existing social organism could not
last a day.
The Voice of the Early Church
BY CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA
(Greek Church; 150-215)
I know that God has given us the use of goods, but only as far
as is necessary; and He has determined that the use be common.
It is absurd and disgraceful for one to live magnificently and
luxuriously when so many are hungry.
BY TERTULLIAN
(Earliest of the Latin fathers; 155-222)
All is common with us except women. Jesus was our man, God
and brother. He restored unto all men what cruel murderers
took from them by the sword. Christians have no master and no
Christian shall be bound for bread and raiment. The land is no
man's inheritance; none shall possess it as property.
BY ST. CYPRIAN
(Latin; 200-258)
No man shall be received into our commune who sayeth that the
land may be sold. God's footstool is not property.
BY ST. BASIL
(Greek Church; 329-379)
Which things, tell me, are yours? Whence have you brought
your goods into life? You are like one occupying a place in a
theatre, who should prohibit others from entering, treating
that as his own which was designed for the common use of all.
Such are the rich. Because they preoccupy common goods, they
take these goods as their own. If each one would take that
which is sufficient for his needs, leaving what is superfluous
to those in distress, no one would be rich, no one poor.... The
rich man is a thief.
BY ST. AMBROSE
(Latin; 340-397)
How far, O rich, do you extend your senseless avarice? Do
you intend to be the sole inhabitants of the earth? Why do
you drive out the fellow sharers of nature, and claim it all
for yourselves? The earth was made for all, rich and poor,
in common. Why do you rich claim it as your exclusive right?
The soil was given to the rich and poor in common--wherefore,
oh, ye rich, do you unjustly claim it for yourselves alone?
Nature gave all things in common for the use of all; usurpation
created private rights. Property hath no rights. The earth is
the Lord's, and we are his offspring. The pagans hold earth as
property. They do blaspheme God.
BY ST. JEROME
(Latin; 340-420)
All riches come from iniquity, and unless one has lost, another
cannot gain. Hence that common opinion seems to me to be very
true, "the rich man is unjust, or the heir an unjust one."
Opulence is always the result of theft, if not committed by the
actual possessor, then by his predecessor.
BY ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM
(Greek Church; 347-407)
Tell me, whence are you rich? From whom have you received?
From your grandfather, you say; from your father. Are you
able to show, ascending in the order of generation, that that
possession is just throughout the whole series of preceding
generations? Its beginning and root grew necessarily out of
injustice. Why? Because God did not make this man rich and
that man poor from the beginning. Nor, when He created the
world, did He allot much treasure to one man, and forbid
another to seek any. He gave the same earth to be cultivated
by all. Since, therefore, His bounty is common, how comes
it that you have so many fields, and your neighbor not even
a clod of earth?... The idea we should have of the rich and
covetous--they are truly as robbers, who, standing in the
public highway, despoil the passers.
BY ST. AUGUSTINE
(Latin; 354-430)
The superfluities of the rich are the necessaries of the poor.
They who possess superfluities, possess the goods of others.
BY ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
(Latin; 540-604)
They must be admonished who do not seek another's goods, yet do
not give of their own, that they may know that the earth from
which they have received is common to all men, and therefore
its products are given in common to all. They, therefore,
wrongly think they are innocent who claim for themselves
the common gift of God. When they do not give what they have
received, they assist in the death of neighbors, because daily
almost as many of the poor perish as have been deprived of
means which the rich have kept to themselves. When we give
necessaries to the needy we do not bestow upon them our goods;
we return to them their own; we pay a debt of justice rather
than fulfil a work of mercy.
The Annexing of Christianity[A]
[A] By permission of Doubleday, Page & Co.
(_From "The Call of the Carpenter"_)
BY BOUCK WHITE
(See page 353)
The annexing process was started by a Roman citizen named
Saul. Formerly a Jew, he deserted his nationality and with it
his former name, and called himself thereafter Paul. Paul was
undeniably sincere. He believed that in reinterpreting the
Christian faith so as to make it acceptable to the Romans he
was doing that faith a service. His make-up was imperial rather
than democratic. Both by birth and training he was unfitted to
enter into the working-class consciousness of Galileans. He was
in culture a Hellenist, in religion a Pharisee, in citizenship
a Roman. From the first strain, Hellenism, he received a bias
in the direction of philosophy rather than economics; from the
second, his Pharisaism, he received a bias toward aloofness,
otherworldliness; and from the third, his Romanism, he received
a bias toward political acquiescence and the preservation of
the status quo....
Paul planned to make Christianity the religion of the Roman
Empire. It needed a religion badly. The catalogue of its
vices, in the forepart of the Epistle to the Romans, is proof.
Paul the Roman citizen saw nothing but excellence in Rome's
world-wide empire. Only, it must be redeemed from its laxity
of morals. Therefore he would bring to it the Christ as its
cleanser and thereby its perpetuator. It was the test of loyal
citizenship among the Romans to seek out in every part of the
world that which was most rare and valued, and bring it back
to Rome as a gift. Thus her sons went forth and returned laden
with richest trophies to lay at her feet. They brought to her
pearls from India, gold chariots from Babylon, elephants from
interior Africa, high-breasted virgins from the Greek isles,
Phidian marbles from Athens. Paul also would be a bringer of
gifts to the Rome that had honored him and his fathers with the
high honor of citizenship. And the gift he would bring and lay
at her feet would be the richest of them all--a religion....
Paul was a stockholder in Rome's world corporation. And that
stock by slow degrees had blinded him to the injustice of
a social system in whose dividends he himself shared. This
explains in large part why he accepted the political status
quo, and preached its acceptance by others. Students of ethics
have difficulty in reconciling Aristotle's defence of human
servitude, "slavery is a law of nature which is advantageous
and just," with his insight and logic in other matters. The
difficulty resolves itself when it is recalled that Aristotle
possessed thirteen slaves, and therefore had exactly thirteen
arguments for the righteousness of slavery. Seneca, gifted
in other things with fine powers of moral philosophy, saw no
monstrousness in Nero that he should rebuke--Seneca was a
favorite with Nero, and was using that favoritism to amass
an enormous fortune. Paul was too highly educated--using the
term in its academic sense--to be at one with the unbookish
Galileans, and he was personally too much the gainer from
Rome's empire of privilege to share the insurrectionary spirit
of the Son of Mary....
Paul was under the spell of Rome's material greatness. His
heart was secretly enticed by her triumphal arches, her
literature, her palaces on the Palatine, her baths, porticos of
philosophy, gymnasia, schools of rhetoric, her athletic games
in the arena. He thought of her history, her jurisprudence,
her military might, the starry names in her roll of glory, her
sweep of empire from the Thames to the Tigris, and from the
Rhine to the deserts of Africa; and when, to this summary,
came the pleasant reflection that he was a part of this
world corporation, one of the privileged few to share in its
profits, it was not hard for him to find reasons to justify his
desertion of that poverty-stricken and fanatically democratic
race of Israel off there in unimportant Palestine.
A true Roman, Paul preaches to the proletariat the duty of
political passivity. To the Carpenter, with his splendid
worldliness, the premier qualification for character was
self-respect, and the alertness and mastery of environment
which go with self-respect. But to Paul the primate virtue is
submissiveness--"the powers that be!" He sought to cure the
seditiousness of the working class by drawing off their gaze
to a crown of righteousness reserved in heaven for them--a
gaseous felicity beyond the stars. Israel, holding fast to
the enrichment of the present life, had kept its religion
from getting off into fog lands, by seeking "a city that hath
foundations." But Paul sought to hush all these "worldly" aims;
he wooed the toiling masses to desire "a building of God, a
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." He was a
true yoke-fellow of Pylades, the Roman play-actor, who, wishing
to justify his usefulness to the master class, said to Augustus
that "it was for the emperor's advantage that the people should
have their attention fixed on the playhouse rather than on
politics."
Preface to "Major Barbara"
BY G. BERNARD SHAW
(See pages 193, 212, 263)
Churches are suffered to exist only on condition that they
preach submission to the State as at present capitalistically
organized. The Church of England itself is compelled to add to
the thirty-six articles in which it formulates its religious
tenets, three more in which it apologetically protests that the
moment any of these articles comes in conflict with the State
it is to be entirely renounced, abjured, violated, abrogated
and abhorred, the policeman being a much more important person
than any of the Persons of the Trinity. And this is why no
tolerated Church nor Salvation Army can ever win the entire
confidence of the poor. It must be on the side of the police
and the military, no matter what it believes or disbelieves;
and as the police and the military are the instruments by
which the rich rob and oppress the poor (on legal and moral
principles made for the purpose), it is not possible to be on
the side of the poor and of the police at the same time. Indeed
the religious bodies, as the almoners of the rich, become a
sort of auxiliary police, taking off the insurrectionary edge
of poverty with coals and blankets, bread and treacle, and
soothing and cheering the victims with hopes of immense and
inexpensive happiness in another world, when the process of
working them to premature death in the service of the rich is
complete in this.
Prince Hagen
BY UPTON SINCLAIR
(Prince Hagen, ruler of the Nibelungs, a race of gold-hoarding gnomes,
comes up to visit the land of the earth-men, and study Christian
civilization. He finds a number of ideas worth taking back to his
underground home)
Prince Hagen paused for a moment and puffed in silence; then
suddenly he remarked: "Do you know that it is a very wonderful
idea--that immortality? Did you ever think about it?"
"Yes," I said, "a little."
"I tell you, the man who got that up was a world-genius. When
I saw how it worked, it was something almost too much for
me to believe; and still I find myself wondering if it can
last. For you know if you can once get a man believing in
immortality, there is no more left for you to desire; you can
take everything in the world he owns--you can skin him alive
if it pleases you--and he will bear it all with perfect good
humor. I tell you what, I lie awake at night and dream about
the chances of getting the Nibelungs to believe in immortality;
I don't think I can manage it, but it is a stake worth playing
for. I say the phrases over to myself--you know them all--'It
is better to give than to receive'--'Lay not up for yourself
treasures on earth'--'Take no heed, saying what shall ye eat!'
As a matter of fact, I fancy the Nibelungs will prove pretty
tough at reforming, but it is worth any amount of labor.
Suppose I could ever get them to the self-renouncing point!
Just fancy the self-renunciation of a man with a seventy-mile
tunnel full of gold!"
Prince Hagen's eyes danced; his face was a study. I watched him
wonderingly. "Why do you go to all that bother?" I demanded,
suddenly. "If you want the gold, why don't you simply kill the
Nibelungs and take it?"
"I have thought of that," he replied; "I might easily manage
it all with a single revolver. But why should I kill the geese
that lay me golden eggs? I want not only the gold they have,
but the gold that they will dig through the centuries that are
to come; for I know that the resources of Nibelheim, if they
could only be properly developed, would be simply infinite. So
I have made up my mind to civilize the people and develop their
souls."
"Explain to me just how you expect to get their gold," I said.
"Just as the capitalist is getting it in New York," was the
response. "At present the Nibelungs hide their wealth; I mean
to broaden their minds, and establish a system of credit.
I mean to teach them ideals of usefulness and service, to
establish the arts and sciences, to introduce machinery
and all the modern improvements that tend to increase the
centralization of power; I shall be master--just as I am
here--because I am the strongest, and because I am not a dupe."
"I see," I said; "but all this will take a long time."
"Yes," said he, "I know; it is the whole course of history
to be lived over again. But there will be no mistakes and no
groping in this case, for I know the way, and I am king. It
will be a sort of benevolent despotism--the ideal form of
government, as I believe."
"And you are sure there is no chance of your plans failing?"
"Failing!" he laughed. "You should have seen how they have
worked so far."
"You have begun applying them?"
"I have been down to Nibelheim twice since the death of dear
grandpa," said the prince. "The first time, as you imagine,
there was tremendous excitement, for all Nibelheim knew what
a bad person I had been, and stood in terror of my return.
I got them all together and told them the truth--that I had
become wise and virtuous, that I meant to respect every man's
property, and that I meant to consecrate my whole endeavor to
the developing of the resources of my native land. And then
you should have witnessed the scene! They went half wild with
rejoicing; they fell down on their knees and thanked me with
tears in their eyes: I played the _pater patriae_ in a fashion
to take away your breath. And afterwards I went on to explain
to them that I had discovered very many wonderful things
up on the earth; that I was going to make a law forbidding
any of them to go there, because it was so dangerous, but
that I myself was going to brave all the perils for their
sakes. I told them about a wonderful animal that was called a
steam-drill, and that ate fire, and dug out gold with swiftness
beyond anything they could imagine. I said that I was going
to empty all my royal treasure caves, and take my fortune and
some of theirs to the earth to buy a few thousand of these
wonderful creatures; and I promised them that I would give them
to the Nibelungs to use, and they might have twice as much gold
as they would have dug with their hands, provided they would
give me the balance. Of course they agreed to it with shouts
of delight, and the contracts were signed then and there.
They helped me get out all my gold, and I took them down the
steam-drills, and showed them how to manage them; so before
very long I expect to have quite a snug little income."
The Prince
BY NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI
(Italian courtier, author of a famous treatise on statecraft:
1469-1527)
A prince has to have particular care that, to see and to hear
him, he appears all goodness, integrity, humanity and religion,
which last he ought to pretend to more than ordinarily. For
everybody sees, but few understand; everybody sees how you
appear, but few know what in reality you are, and those few
dare not oppose the opinion of the multitude, who have the
majesty of their prince to defend them.
Children of the Dead End[A]
[A] By permission of E. P. Dutton & Co.
BY PATRICK MACGILL
(See pages 32, 47, 122)
Nearly every second year the potatoes went bad; then we were
always hungry, although Farley McKeown, a rich merchant in the
neighboring village, let my father have a great many bags of
Indian meal on credit. A bag contained sixteen stone of meal
and cost a shilling a stone. On the bag of meal Farley McKeown
charged sixpence a month interest; and fourpence a month on a
sack of flour which cost twelve shillings. All the people round
about were very honest, and paid up their debts when they were
able. Usually when the young went off to Scotland or England
they sent home money to their fathers and mothers, and with
this money the parents paid for the meal to Farley McKeown.
"What doesn't go to the landlord goes to Farley McKeown," was a
Glenmornan saying.
The merchant was a great friend of the parish priest, who
always told the people if they did not pay their debts they
would burn for ever and ever in hell. "The fires of eternity
will make you sorry for the debts that you did not pay," said
the priest. "What is eternity?" he would ask in a solemn voice
from the altar steps. "If a man tried to count the sands on
the sea-shore and took a million years to count every single
grain, how long would it take him to count them all? A long
time, you'll say. But that time is nothing to eternity. Just
think of it! Burning in hell while a man, taking a million
years to count a grain of sand, counts all the sand on the
sea-shore. And this because you did not pay Farley McKeown his
lawful debts, his lawful debts within the letter of the law."
That concluding phrase, "within the letter of the law," struck
terror into all who listened, and no one, maybe not even the
priest himself, knew what it meant.
Incantations
BY MAX EASTMAN
(Editor of "The Masses," born 1883)
I remember a vesper service at Ravello in Italy. I remember
that the exquisite and pathetically resplendent little chapel
was filled with ragged and dirty-smelling and sweet, sad-eyed
mothers. Some carried in their arms their babies, some carried
only a memory in their haggard eyes. They were all poor.
They were all sad in that place. They were mothers. Mothers
wrinkle-eyed, stooped, worn old, but yet gentle--O, so gentle
and eager to believe that it would all be made up to them and
their beloved in Heaven! I see their bodies swaying to the
chant of meaningless long syllables of Latin magic, I see them
worked upon by those dark agencies of candle, and minor chord,
and incense, and the unknown tongue, and I see that this little
dirt-colored coin clutched so tight in their five fingers is
going to be given up, with a kind of desperate haste, ere the
climax of these incantations is past. Poor, anguished dupes of
the hope of Heaven, poor mothers, pinching your own children's
bellies to fatten the wallets of those fat priests!
Exit Salvatore
BY CLEMENT WOOD
(American poet, born 1888)
Salvatore's dead--a gap
Where he worked in the ditch-edge, shovelling mud;
Slanting brow; a head mayhap
Rather small, like a bullet; hot southern blood;
Surly now, now riotous
With the flow of his joy; and his hovel bare,
As his whole life is to us--
A stone in his belly the whole of his share.
Body starved, but the soul secure,
Masses to save it from Purgatory,
And to dwell with the Son and the Virgin pure--
Lucky Salvatore!
Salvatore's glad, for see
On the hearse and the coffin, purple and black,
Tassels, ribbons, broidery
Fit for the Priest's or the Pope's own back;
Flowers costly, waxen, gay,
And the mates from the ditch-edge, pair after pair;
Dirging band, and the Priest to pray,
And the soul of the dead one pleasuring there.
Body starved, and the mind as well.
Peace--let him rot in his costly glory,
Cheated no more with a Heaven or Hell--
Exit Salvatore.
FROM MICAH
Hear this, I pray you, ye heads of the house of Jacob, and
rulers of the house of Israel, that abhor judgment, and pervert
all equity. They build up Zion with blood, and Jerusalem with
iniquity. The heads thereof judge for reward, and the priests
thereof teach for hire, and the prophets divine for money....
Therefore shall Zion for your sake be plowed as a field, and
Jerusalem shall become heaps, and the mountain of the house as
the high places of a forest.
The Saint
BY ANTONIO FOGAZZARO
(Italian poet and novelist, 1842-1911. A devout Catholic, he
endeavored to reform the Church from within. The present novel created
a tremendous sensation in Italy, and was placed upon the "Index." In
this scene "the Saint" pleads with the Pope)
"May I continue, Your Holiness?"
The Pope, who while Benedetto had been speaking had kept his
eyes fixed on his face, now bowed his head slightly, in answer.
"The third evil spirit which is corrupting the Church does
not disguise itself as an angel of light, for it well knows
it cannot deceive; it is satisfied with the garb of common,
human honesty. This is the spirit of avarice. The Vicar of
Christ dwells in this royal palace as he dwelt in his episcopal
palace, with the pure heart of poverty. Many venerable pastors
dwell in the Church with the same heart, but the spirit of
poverty is not preached sufficiently, not preached as Christ
preached it. The lips of Christ's ministers are too often
over-complaisant to those who seek riches. There are those
among them who bow the head respectfully before the man who has
much, simply because he has much; there are those who let their
tongues flatter the greedy, and too many preachers of the word
and of the example of Christ deem it just for them to revel in
the pomp and honors attending on riches, to cleave with their
souls to the luxury riches bring. Father, exhort the clergy to
show those greedy for gain, be they rich or poor, more of that
charity which admonishes, which threatens, which rebukes. Holy
Father!----"
Benedetto ceased speaking. There was an expression of fervent
appeal in the gaze fixed upon the Pope.
"Well?" the Pontiff murmured.
Benedetto spread wide his arms, and continued:
"The Spirit urges me to say more. It is not the work of a day,
but let us prepare for the day--not leaving this task to the
enemies of God and of the Church--let us prepare for the day
on which the priests of Christ shall set the example of true
poverty; when it shall be their duty to live in poverty, as it
is their duty to live in chastity; and let the words of Christ
to the Seventy-two serve them as a guide in this. Then the Lord
will surround the least of them with such honors, with such
reverence as does not to-day exist in the hearts of the people
for the princes of the Church. They will be few in number, but
they will be the light of the world. Holy Father, are they that
to-day? Some among them are, but the majority shed neither
light nor darkness."
At this point the Pontiff for the first time bowed his head in
sorrowful acquiescence.
The New Rome
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN
(See page 367)
A thousand starve, a few are fed,
Legions of robbers rack the poor,
The rich man steals the widow's bread,
And Lazarus dies at Dives' door;
The Lawyer and the Priest adjust
The claims of Luxury and Lust
To seize the earth and hold the soil,
To store the grain they never reap;
Under their heels the white slaves toil,
While children wail and women weep!--
The gods are dead, but in their name
Humanity is sold to shame,
While (then as now!) the tinsel'd Priest
Sitteth with robbers at the feast,
Blesses the laden blood-stain'd board,
Weaves garlands round the butcher's sword,
And poureth freely (now as then)
The sacramental blood of Men!
The Priest and the Devil
BY FÉODOR DOSTOYEVSKY
(The Russian realist, 1821-1881, wrote this little story upon
the wall of his Siberian prison)
"Hello, you little fat father!" the devil said to the priest.
"What made you lie so to those poor, misled people? What
tortures of hell did you depict? Don't you know they are
already suffering the tortures of hell in their earthly lives?
Don't you know that you and the authorities of the State are
my representatives on earth? It is you that make them suffer
the pains of hell with which you threaten them. Don't you know
this? Well, then, come with me!"
The devil grabbed the priest by the collar, lifted him high
in the air, and carried him to a factory, to an iron foundry.
He saw the workmen there running and hurrying to and fro, and
toiling in the scorching heat. Very soon the thick, heavy air
and the heat are too much for the priest. With tears in his
eyes, he pleads with the devil: "Let me go! Let me leave this
hell!"
"Oh, my dear friend, I must show you many more places." The
devil gets hold of him again and drags him off to a farm. There
he sees workmen threshing the grain. The dust and heat are
insufferable. The overseer carries a knout, and unmercifully
beats anyone who falls to the ground overcome by hard toil or
hunger.
Next the priest is taken to the huts where these same workers
live with their families--dirty, cold, smoky, ill-smelling
holes. The devil grins. He points out the poverty and hardships
which are at home here.
"Well, isn't this enough?" he asks. And it seems as if even
he, the devil, pities the people. The pious servant of God can
hardly bear it. With uplifted hands he begs: "Let me go away
from here. Yes, yes! This is hell on earth!"
"Well, then, you see. And you still promise them another hell.
You torment them, torture them to death mentally when they are
already all but dead physically. Come on! I will show you one
more hell--one more, the very worst."
He took him to a prison and showed him a dungeon, with its
foul air and the many human forms, robbed of all health and
energy, lying on the floor, covered with vermin that were
devouring their poor, naked, emaciated bodies.
"Take off your silken clothes," said the devil to the
priest, "put on your ankles heavy chains such as these poor
unfortunates wear; lie down on the cold and filthy floor--and
then talk to them about a hell that still awaits them!"
"No, no!" answered the priest, "I cannot think of anything more
dreadful than this. I entreat you, let me go away from here!"
"Yes, this is hell. There can be no worse hell than this. Did
you not know it? Did you not know that these men and women whom
you are frightening with the picture of a hell hereafter--did
you not know that they are in hell right here, before they die?"
Work According to the Bible
(A pamphlet written by T. M. Bondareff, a Siberian peasant and
ex-serf, at the age of sixty-seven)
They often arrest thieves in the world; but these culprits
are rather rogues than thieves. I have laid hands on the real
thief, who has robbed God and the church. He has stolen the
primal commandment which belongs to us who till the fields. I
will point him out. It is he who does not produce his bread
with his own hands, but eats the fruit of others' toil.
Seize him and lead him away to judgment. All crimes such as
robberies, murders, frauds and the like arise from the fact
that this commandment is hidden from man. The rich do all they
can to avoid working with their hands, and the poor to rid
themselves of the necessity. The poor man says, "There are
people who can live on others' labor; why should not I?" and
he kills, steals and cheats in consequence. Behold now what
harm can be done by white hands, more than all that good grimy
hands can repair upon the earth! You spread out before the
laborer the idleness of your life, and thus take away the force
from his hands. Your way of living is for us the most cruel
of offences, and a shame withal. You are a hundred-fold more
wise and learned than I am, and for that reason you take my
bread. But because you are wise you ought rather to have pity
on me who am weak. It is said, "Love thy neighbor as thyself."
I am your neighbor, and you are mine. Why are we coarse and
untaught? Because we produce our own bread, and yours too! Have
we any time to study and educate ourselves? You have stolen our
brains as well as our bread by trickery and violence.
How blind thou art, O wise man; thou that readest the
scriptures, and seest not the way in which thou mightest free
thyself, and the flock committed to thee, from the burden of
sin! Thy blindness is like unto that of Balaam, who, astride
his ass, saw not the angel of God armed with a sword of fire
standing in the way before him. Thou art Balaam, I am the ass,
and thou hast ridden upon my back from childhood!
Resurrection
BY LEO TOLSTOY
(In this novel the greatest of modern religious teachers has presented
his indictment of the government and church of his country. The hero
is a Russian prince who in early youth seduces a peasant girl, and in
after life meets her, a prostitute on trial for murder. He follows
her to Siberia, in an effort to reclaim her. Near the end of his
story Tolstoi introduces this scene. The Englishman may be said to
represent modern science, which asks questions and accumulates futile
statistics; while the old man voices the peculiar Christian Anarchism
of the author, who at the age of eighty-two left his home and wandered
out into the steppes to die)
In one of the exiles' wards, Nehlúdof [the prince] recognized
the strange old man he had seen crossing the ferry that
morning. This tattered and wrinkled old man was sitting on
the floor by the beds, barefooted, wearing only a dirty
cinder-colored shirt, torn on one shoulder, and similar
trousers. He looked severely and inquiringly at the new-comers.
His emaciated body, visible through the holes in his dirty
shirt, looked miserably weak, but in his face was more
concentrated seriousness and animation than even when Nehlúdof
saw him crossing the ferry. As in all the other wards, so here
also the prisoners jumped up and stood erect when the official
entered; but the old man remained sitting. His eyes glittered
and his brow frowned wrathfully.
"Get up!" the inspector called out to him.
The old man did not rise, but only smiled contemptuously.
"Thy servants are standing before thee, I am not thy servant.
Thou bearest the seal...." said the old man, pointing to the
inspector's forehead.
"Wha--a--t?" said the inspector threateningly, and made a step
towards him.
"I know this man," said Nehlúdof. "What is he imprisoned for?"
"The police have sent him here because he has no passport.
We ask them not to send such, but they will do it," said the
inspector, casting an angry side glance at the old man.
"And so it seems thou, too, art one of Antichrist's army?" said
the old man to Nehlúdof.
"No, I am a visitor," said Nehlúdof.
"What, hast thou come to see how Antichrist tortures men? Here,
see. He has locked them up in a cage, a whole army of them. Men
should eat bread in the sweat of their brow. But He has locked
them up with no work to do, and feeds them like swine, so that
they should turn into beasts."
"What is he saying?" asked the Englishman.
Nehlúdof told him the old man was blaming the inspector for
keeping men imprisoned.
"Ask him how he thinks one should treat those who do not keep
the laws," said the Englishman.
Nehlúdof translated the question.
The old man laughed strangely, showing his regular teeth.
"The laws?" he repeated with contempt. "First Antichrist
robbed everybody, took all the earth, and all rights away from
them--took them all for himself--killed all those who were
against him--and then He wrote laws forbidding to rob and to
kill. He should have written those laws sooner."
Nehlúdof translated. The Englishman smiled.
"Well, anyhow, ask him how one should treat thieves and
murderers now?"
Nehlúdof again translated the question.
"Tell him he should take the seal of Antichrist off from
himself," the old man said, frowning severely; "then he will
know neither thieves nor murderers. Tell him so."
"He is crazy," said the Englishman, when Nehlúdof had
translated the old man's words; and shrugging his shoulders he
left the cell.
"Do thine own task and leave others alone. Every one for
himself. God knows whom to execute, whom to pardon, but we do
not know," said the old man. "Be your own chief, then chiefs
will not be wanted. Go, go," he added, frowning angrily, and
looking with glittering eyes at Nehlúdof, who lingered in
the ward. "Hast thou not gazed enough on how the servants of
Antichrist feed lice on men? Go! Go!"
Sunday
(_From "Challenge"_)
BY LOUIS UNTERMEYER
(See pages 42, 418)
It was Sunday--
Eleven in the morning; people were at church--
Prayers were in the making; God was near at hand--
Down the cramped and narrow streets of quiet Lawrence
Came the tramp of workers marching in their hundreds;
Marching in the morning, marching to the grave-yard,
Where, no longer fiery, underneath the grasses,
Callous and uncaring, lay their friend and sister.
In their hands they carried wreaths and drooping flowers,
Overhead their banners dipped and soared like eagles--
Aye, but eagles bleeding, stained with their own heart's blood--
Red, but not for glory--red, with wounds and travail,
Red, the buoyant symbol of the blood of all the world.
So they bore their banners, singing toward the grave-yard,
So they marched and chanted, mingling tears and tributes,
So, with flowers, the dying went to deck the dead.
Within the churches people heard
The sound, and much concern was theirs--
God might not hear the Sacred Word--
God might not hear their prayers!
_Should such things be allowed these slaves--
To vex the Sabbath peace with Song,
To come with chants, like marching waves,
That proudly swept along._
_Suppose God turned to these--and heard!
Suppose He listened unawares--
God might forget the Sacred Word,
God might forget their prayers!_
And so (the tragic irony)
The blue-clad Guardians of the Peace
Were sent to sweep them back--to see
The ribald Song should cease;
To scatter those who came and vexed
God with their troubled cries and cares.
Quiet--so God might hear the text;
The sleek and unctuous prayers!
Up the rapt and singing streets of little Lawrence
Came the stolid soldiers; and, behind the bluecoats,
Grinning and invisible, bearing unseen torches,
Rode red hordes of anger, sweeping all before them.
Lust and Evil joined them--Terror rode among them;
Fury fired its pistols; Madness stabbed and yelled.
Through the wild and bleeding streets of shuddering Lawrence,
Raged the heedless panic, hour-long and bitter.
Passion tore and trampled; men once mild and peaceful,
Fought with savage hatred in the name of Law and Order.
And, below the outcry, like the sea beneath the breakers,
Mingling with the anguish, rolled the solemn organ....
Eleven in the morning--people were at church--
Prayers were in the making--God was near at hand--
It was Sunday!
BY ISAIAH
Hear the word of the Lord, ye rulers of Sodom; give ear unto
the law of our God, ye people of Gomorrah. To what purpose is
the multitude of your sacrifices unto me? saith the Lord....
Bring no more vain oblations.... When ye spread forth your
hands, I will hide mine eyes from you; yea when ye make many
prayers I will not hear; your hands are full of blood.
To the Preacher
(_From "In This Our World"_)
BY CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN
(See pages 200, 209)
Preach about yesterday, Preacher!
The time so far away:
When the hand of Deity smote and slew,
And the heathen plagued the stiff-necked Jew;
Or when the Man of Sorrow came,
And blessed the people who cursed his name--
Preach about yesterday, Preacher,
Not about today!
Preach about tomorrow, Preacher!
Beyond this world's decay:
Of the sheepfold Paradise we priced
When we pinned our faith to Jesus Christ;
Of those hot depths that shall receive
The goats who would not so believe--
Preach about tomorrow, Preacher,
Not about today!
Preach about the old sins, Preacher!
And the old virtues, too:
You must not steal nor take man's life,
You must not covet your neighbor's wife,
And woman must cling at every cost
To her one virtue, or she is lost--
Preach about the old sins, Preacher!
Not about the new!
Preach about the other man, Preacher!
The man we all can see!
The man of oaths, the man of strife,
The man who drinks and beats his wife,
Who helps his mates to fret and shirk
When all they need is to keep at work--
Preach about the other man, Preacher!
Not about me!
The Reluctant Briber
BY LINCOLN STEFFENS
(The president of a powerful public service corporation has
become disturbed in conscience, and calls in a student of
social conditions)
"You're unhappy because you are bribing and corrupting, and you
ask my advice. Why? I'm no ethical teacher. You're a churchman.
Why don't you go to your pastor?"
"Pastor!" he exclaimed, and he laughed. The scorn of that
laugh! "Pastor!"
He turned and walked away, to get control, no doubt. I kept
after him.
"Yes," I insisted, "you should go to the head of your church
for moral counsel, and--for economic advice you should go to
the professor of economics in----"
He stopped me, facing about. "Professor!" he echoed, and he
didn't reflect my tone.
I was serious. I wanted to get something from him. I wanted to
know why our practical men do not go to these professions for
help, as they go to lawyers and engineers. And this man had
given time and money to the university in his town and to his
church, as I reminded him.
"You support colleges and churches, you and your kind do," I
said. "What for?"
"For women and children," he snapped from his distance.
BY SAVONAROLA
(Italian religious reformer, 1452-1498; hanged and burned by
his enemies)
But dost thou know what I would tell thee? In the primitive
church, the chalices were of wood, the prelates of gold. In
these days the church hath chalices of gold and prelates of
wood.
The Preacher
(_From "The Canterbury Tales"_)
BY GEOFFREY CHAUCER
(Early English poet, 1340-1400)
Than peyne I me to strecche forth my necke,
And est and west upon the people I bekke,
As doth a pigeon, syttyng on a loft;
Myn hondes and my tonge move so oft,
That it is joye to see my busynesse.
Of avarice and of suche cursedness
Is al my preching, for to make hem free
To give their pence, and namely unto me....
Therfor my theem is yit, and ever was,
The root of evils is cupidity.
Thus can I preche agayn the same vice
Which that I use, and that is avarice.
But though myself be gilty in the same,
Yit can I maken other folks to blame.
Twentieth Century Socialism
BY EDMOND KELLY
(American lawyer and Socialist, 1851-1909)
It seems inconceivable that the same civilization should
include two bodies of men living in apparent harmony and
yet holding such opposite and inconsistent views of man as
economists on the one hand and theologians on the other. To
these last, man has no economic needs; this world does not
count; it is merely a place of probation, mitigated sometimes,
it is true, by ecclesiastical pomp and episcopal palaces;
but serving for the most part as a mere preparation for a
future existence which will satisfy the aspirations of the
human soul--the only thing that does count, in this world
or the next. So while to the economist man is all hog, to
the theologian he is all soul; and between the two the devil
secures the vast majority.
The True Faith
(_From "A Lay Sermon to Preachers"_)
BY HENRY ARTHUR JONES
(English dramatist, born 1851)
I believe--I stand accountant for the words to That which gave
me the power of thinking and writing them--I believe that if
the time and money and thought now given in England to the
propagation of wholly incredible doctrines, which are no sooner
uttered in one pulpit than they are repudiated in another--if
this time and money and thought were given to the understanding
and scattering abroad of the simplest laws of national economy,
of physiology, of health and beauty, in another generation our
England would be greater and mightier than she has ever been.
I believe a knowledge of the necessity of fresh air, of the
value of beauty, of the certain disease and national corruption
and deathfulness hidden in our present commercial system, to
be worth far more than all the books on theology ever written.
I believe faith in constant ventilation and constant outdoor
exercise to be a greater religious necessity than faith in any
doctrine of any sect in England today.
God in the World
(_From "Gitanjali"_)
BY RABINDRANATH TAGORE
(Most popular of Hindoo poets, who recently achieved
international fame, and received the Nobel prize)
Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost
thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors
all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!
He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and
where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun
and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put off
thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil!
Deliverance? Where is this deliverance to be found? Our master
himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he
is bound with us all for ever.
Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and
incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and
stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy
brow.
Priests
(_From "Songs for the New Age"_)
BY JAMES OPPENHEIM
(See pages 45, 129, 147)
Priests are in bad odor,
And yet there shall be no lack of them.
The skies shall not lack a spokesman,
Nor the spirit of man a voice and a gesture.
Not garbed nor churched,
Yet, as of old, in loneliness and anguish,
They shall come eating and drinking among us,
With scourge, pity, and prayer.
Brotherhood
(_From "The Book of The People"_)
BY ROBERT DE LAMENNAIS
(French philosopher and religious reformer, 1782-1854)
Your task is to form the universal family, to build the City of
God, and by a continuous labor gradually to translate His work
in Humanity into fact.
When you love one another as brothers, and treat each other
reciprocally as such; when each one, seeking his own good in
the good of all, shall identify his own life with the life of
all, his own interests with the interests of all, and shall be
always ready to sacrifice himself for all the members of the
common family--then most of the ills which weigh upon the human
race will vanish, as thick mists gathered upon the horizon
vanish at the rising of the sun.