Every religion is based on a God of Love.
The saying of Moses in the old testament, “Love thy neighbor as
thyself,” and what Hillel in the Talmud said, “What is hateful to you
do not to your neighbor,” and that which is proclaimed by Jesus in
the Sermon on the Mount, “Do unto others as you would have them do
unto you,” and the one by Confucius, “Do not to another what you would
not desire that he do unto you”--each of these sayings is called the
Golden Rule, and they are accepted as a religious principle by a large
following. Combined they cover the religion of the world. Why then do
not the religious people religiously love? Why does wisdom then fail?
It is not for me to assume the guidance of the good and the wondrous
wise; yet, may I not wonder whether the failure of practice to conform
to precept may not be a misconception of love by the wise?
Suppose I had been experimenting with a coloring herb for years and had
failed to get results. The very first to say that my formula is wrong
would be the wise. They would insist that some one else should have the
opportunity to try his recipe. I wonder what is wrong with that Love
scheme of the wise. Everybody seems to want it. It is talked about by
all and no one seems to have it. What’s up? Church and State have ever
been repositories of this wisdom, so I blame them for the failure to
make it work, and I ask you for the privilege of demonstrating my love
formula.
Church and State would make us believe that love is injected by force;
it comes, they say, from some mystic where to the chosen few, who alone
can furnish that article to those who feel in need of it. Therefore
they established institutions, such as Sabbath schools, sewing circles,
social settlements, reform clubs, anti-cigarette leagues, anti-vice
societies, and the thousand and one others, for the purpose of changing
the heart of man. Man will love when his heart is changed, they all
say. I cannot imagine any advantage in changing that shape, which
required ages to evolve, to a round or star shaped heart. Beware, says
Church and State, of getting love or into love by taboo paths. Obey
Church and State, that thy days may be long in the sort of happiness
which they ladle out to you. Love of any brand that has not the
sanction of Church and State is lust and passion. To supply yourself
without paying duty you are not only not receiving the genuine article,
but are smuggling as well. The punishment for smuggling, if your case
comes within the jurisdiction of the Church, is fire, brimstone,
torment, ostracism, and other devices that may be summed up under the
general head, Hell. Those who declare their allegiance by full payment
of the required duties are promised harps of a thousand strings (with
sufficient finger equipment to fetch forth heavenly music), golden
streets, avenues of jasper and amethyst, radiant halos, rapid-action
wings, and a large repertoire of songs. The State likewise has a
schedule, whereby both rewards and punishments are not so long delayed.
These penalties, whether in the hereafter in hell or before you have
time to get there, are in the name of love, law and order, progress,
and good citizenship. After having a fair trial for a few thousand
years, I charge them with incompetency, their formula being an entire
failure. I have examined their books, and the net balance found is
great liabilities and no assets. Man is further away from happiness and
love than ever before they took charge. They had good advertising and a
fair trial, and have failed to produce results. Man is getting further
and further away from Love. Instead of here and there a murder they
are slaughtering themselves and each other by the wholesale; strikes,
lockouts galore; jails, prisons overcrowded; the soldier’s home, the
orphan’s home, the homes for foundlings, the home for the incurable,
the home for reformed prostitutes, testify that the people are getting
further and further away from brotherly love.
“Reverse!” says Jacob. “The assumption that the mass of mankind is a
loveless agglomeration of individuals is false, and accounts for the
falsity of our common life. You have been trying to grow your potatoes
on top of the stalk instead of underground. They will not grow there.
Nature has decided otherwise. If you desire potatoes you must look for
them where life has placed them.”
“Reverse your entire plan of life, cast away the things you have
taken up; gather up the things you have cast away. Take off the label
‘Evil’ you have placed upon the things you have cast aside and label
it ‘Good.’ Seek in the opposite direction for life, and you will find
rest, love, and satisfaction.”
There is in the heart of the “masses” a great surging volume of love
seeking an outlet. There is in the hearts of these people a vast wealth
of love that clamors to be freed from all imposts and repressions. But
a sentinel stands in the way preventing expression. There is a taboo on
free expression of Love.
This vigilant sentinel-inspector of the custom-house of Church and
State stands ready to fire on whoever frees Love.
This is the world’s tragedy, that its Love is in bondage! O for the
great Emancipation! Sore is the heart of man, for Love is in chains!
Do you think people need to be educated to love? Observe the gallery
of a cheap playhouse; hear the illiterate, unkempt street waif applaud
with all the vigor that a loving heart commands when the heroine is
saved from mimic danger. You laugh at the cordial plaudits that the
gallery yields to melodrama. That is because you know no better than
to mock the spontaneity of love. We dislike spontaneity. It is too
free and unrestrained. We crave reposeful dignity. Think of a dignified
Cupid!
Do you remember reading the story of that poor convict who escaped from
prison and had succeeded in baffling the searching parties. He was
securely shielded in a thicket near a village. There was an alarm of
fire, and he heard a frantic mother shrieking for assistance for the
rescue of her child. To offer help meant reincarceration. Nevertheless
he did not hesitate. His face was scorched when he delivered the child
unscathed to its mother, but under the soot and burns there was a look
of satisfaction even when the officers took him back to his living tomb.
What is this enthusiasm of the newsboy and the convict? Is it not love?
Society imprisons the one and degrades the other, because they are
judged to be without love.
Take the word of a fool that society’s wisdom is at fault. The misery
of the world is due, in spite of all your findings to the contrary, to
the fact that the heart is not free to express itself; and how to free
the heart is the problem.
If I have an ulcer in my throat and am nearly famished because of the
difficulty of swallowing my victuals, the problem that confronts me is
not how to increase my appetite, but how to assuage it. Read the faces
of the people and you will see that their heart is breaking because
they love and are prevented expression.
The man who dropped a nickel in the cable slot to stop the car was wise
in comparison to him who thinks that Love can live otherwise than free.
Love does not work at all unless it be so simple as to be automatic and
spontaneous. It is not by “trying,” but by “letting,” that happiness
is realized. Little children love without restraint, and they are and
remain happy until a perverted education prompts them to suppress love.
To love! To love freely without analysis or question. Love and the
capacity to love increases until it is all-embracing. He who loves,
loves even when hated, is true to the love law. If I love you because
you love me, that is barter, not love. My love will then depend on the
extent of your love for me.
If you love God because of the desire to go to Heaven, the conception
you have of Heaven determines the extent of your love. As you really
cannot conceive Heaven, you really do not love him at all. Anything
worth having cannot be bought, therefore you get it for nothing. Love
that can be bought is not worth the price. The most precious thing
in life is the love of my mother. I received it gratuitously and
undeservingly, giving pain in return. I love with all my being, even
if the torments of Hell would be its reward. I love, because I love to
love.
Love does not come by talking about it, not any more than a corn-field
comes into being by talking about it. Suppose all the gardeners of the
city would talk and pray flowers, how many flowers will you have? How
unreasonable you are to expect love to come that way. This is the law
of propagation: a seed must be sown in order that an object may grow
and multiply.
The blockade is effective, and I admit that I do not know how we shall
raise it, for they who make it so can supply you arguments by the ton
that it is wise as well. And the world is with the blockaders.
The miscreant who cries “Stop thief!” when running from his pursuers
has this sort of blockader wisdom. Who, indeed, would think of seeking
the thief at the very head of the chase? Likewise it is that they who
most earnestly preach to us to love our neighbors are the most diligent
in preventing us from giving expression to that impulse.
They who so loudly preach this--does their love evince any semblance
of it in their treatment of their fellows? Is it love that proclaims
that the husbandman must pay “duty” for the use of the earth? Is the
love he preaches back of such a claim? It is the wolf in the covering
of a peaceable lamb. Love is the landlord’s mask. It is fair to look
upon, and he employs the blockading forces of church and state to lull
us with his false pretenses of love. And it is the chief business of
society to justify the mask.
But a velvet glove covers the mailed fist. It is a part of the garish
masquerade. And so we do not see the iron hand beneath its false
exterior. We are soothed by the very insistence of kindliness which
the velvet glove denotes. And so we do not recognize the force that
inheres in the armor that it conceals. Else would we discern the
challenge and meet it. It’s a clever game, there’s no denying. And
right well do the blockaders play it. The blockade is not maintained,
they assure us, for our hurt, but for our protection. How dearly we
love our protectors; and how well they know that when we discover that
the mystic inscription on their banner means force that we too will
employ force. But no one sees through the deception save here and there
a fool.
Any scheme of society that requires force to maintain its stability
must fail. Society professes to be the defender of right and justice.
More than half of mankind accepts this protestation without cavil. Yet
I am the only fool!
There’s not a land title in all the world that is free from taint of
force and fraud. Not one. For no one can claim title from the maker.
And there is no other valid title to ownership. And they who defend
land titles are accessory to fraud. This is a stern indictment, though
writ by a fool. This army of fraud is the force that prevents the
interflow of love that would make all the world a paradise were it free.
Your heart cries for a chance to live and love. It is dying to love and
your wisdom stands in the way. How long, I ask you, do you think that
Life will consent to let you suppress love?
Has not history taught you that when fools awake, stretch, and shake
themselves, the wise look foolish? I see that you do not understand.
One of the blockaders said to me not long ago that he could trace his
title back to the original conqueror. He does not see the danger in the
admission that his titles are of conquest, for I may some day feel like
contending with him on that basis for his holding. When we no longer
acquiesce in titles by conquest they will fall. And with the fall we
will not need to meet force and fraud by force and fraud.
There is no love in bond-love. There is no freedom in love short of all
freedom.