The Lantern M togenes rV,,> I^K. \6< >t'X>^ LIBRRRY <>K THK University of North Carolina EndoweiT by the Dialectic and Pfuiui- tliropic Societies. (L5 — H^w This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEK ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIV CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out ( the day indicated below: (7 • THE LANTERN OF DIOGENES N. B. HERRING, M. D. RALEIGH. N. C. E. M. UZZELL a CO.. PRINTERS AND BINDERS 1910 Copyright, 1910 BT N. B. HERRING TO THAT VILIFIED AND LITTLE UNDERSTOOD CLASS. THE SKEPTICS; AND TO THE HONEST AND TRUTH-LOVING TEACHERS OF RELIGION, "PURE AND UNDEFILED BEFORE GOD." THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR. "From the moment when a man desires to find the truth on one side rather than another, it is all over \Yith him as a philosopher." — Harriet Mabtineau. "The business of the scholar is the pursuit of truth. He is to find out and formulate the facts regardless of creeds, teachings of traditions, decrees of councils, or votes of assemblies. If he does less than this, he is a coward and a deserter. If he does more, he is a demagogue and a charlatan." — President Hyde of Bowdoin College. "As we are obliged to obey the divine law, though our will murmur against it, so we are obliged to believe the word of God, though our reason be shocked at it ; therefore, the more absurd and incredi- ble any divine mystery is, the greater honor we do to God in believ- ing it." — Francis Bacon. CONTENTS. BOOK I— PART I. CHAPTER I. PAGE. The Old Man in the Car 3 CHAPTER II. The Schoolmasteb 5 chapter iii. "The Ghost" 7 chapter iv. The Philosopher 10 chapter v. Faith 13 CHAPTER VI. Dialectics I5 CHAPTER VII. Evidence 17 CHAPTER VIII. The "Assertion" Analyzed 19 CHAPTER IX. Mind and Brain 22 CHAPTER X. Electricity 2G CHAPTER XI. Design 30 CHAPTER XII. Hybrids and Physiological Pain 36 PART II. "He is Uncommonly Powerful in His Own Line, But it is Not the Line of a First-rate Man" 42 BOOK II. Preface 61 chapter i. The Journey Home 63 vi Contents. CHAPTER II. PAGE. The Track in the Road TO CHAPTER III. The Wandering Jew 76 CHAPTER IV. The Crusades 86 CHAPTER V. The Crazy Shoemaker 90 CHAPTER VI. Freedom and Necessity 96 CHAPTER VII. Freedom and Necessity (Continued) 104 CHAPTER VIII. The SotTL 112 CHAPTER IX. Phenomena 121 CHAPTER X. Responsibility 128 CHAPTER XI. Secondary Causes 135 CHAPTER XII. Boyhood 115 chapter xiii. Cause and Effect 150 CHAPTER XIV. From Boyhood to Manhood 155 chapter xv. Manhood 161 chapter xvi. Matter and Spirit 169 chapter xvii. The Divinity of Christ 1"6 CHAPTER XVIII. Judas Iscariot 1~9 Contents. vii CHAPTER XIX. PAGE. Job 182 CHAPTER XX. The Lesson 188 chapter xxi. An Interlude 193 CHAPTER XXn. The Teachings of Jesus 199 CHAPTER XXIII. The Answer 209 chapter xxiv. Going to Church 214 CHAPTER XXV. Starting in Life 219 CHAPTER XXVI. Marriage 228 CHAPTER XXVII. Divorce 237 CHAPTER XXVIII. Raising a Family 243 CHAPTER XXIX. Managing a Family 252 CHAPTER XXX. Old Age 258 CHAPTER XXXI. Sunday Morning 264 Appendix 279 Addendum 287 INTRODUCTION I have no apology to make for writing this book. It is the result of many years' study, and the offspring of the best thought of my life. If its readers do not like it, they are welcome to say what they please about it. Criticism is invited and abuse will not ruffle the temper of its author. Several scholars have read it, but no one has criticised it, and only one has abused it. Bishop Strange did himself poor service in his misapprehension of its intent and meaning. His letter and my answer follow. Elder P. D. Gold read it and said: "I have enjoyed read- ing your book, which is peculiar. I have been puzzled at times to know where you are and what you believe." Unlike Bishop Strange, he could not place me on one side or the other. He comprehended the intent of the book — that of presenting both sides of every question discussed, and leav- ing the verdict to the reader. It is easy to see from the Bishop's letter where the ''peep behind the curtain" stuck him deepest. Poverty of resource has ever placed the church in a false light, and never has there been a time when it ran so severe a gantlet. The reader will do well to make no decision until he has read every line and digested the whole. Let him do as the Bishop started to do, when he balked. Let him stick a pin at the first rut— the first jolt he finds in the road, and not wait until he gets to his journey's end and then say, the road is had. If the good Bishop will spend another three days, or, better, three weeks, on that stumpy road where he found so many obstructions, and point out that particular stump where "There is no right and no wrong in the world," I will dynamite that X Introduction. stump and fill up the hole. And if he will point out any passage in Ingersoll's writings where he inveighed against the "words and character" of Jesus, I will confess that I am a careless reader. Book I shows that I am not an admirer of Ingersoll, but I believe in "giving the devil his due"; for — "Bad as he is. the devil may be abused, Falsely charged and causelessly accused ; When men, unwilling to be blamed alone. Shift off the crimes on him which are their own." A prominent lawyer of Eichmond, Ky., writes : "To me, your book has been a source of inspiration along certain lines. I feel more than repaid by a hasty and, to me, unsatisfactory reading. I recall the fact that your style has the happy amal- gam of Miltonic sonorous English and the incisiveness of a chancery brief. "I notice you ask for my criticism. Am I an Edinburgh Revieiv, and are you to be the George Gordon Byron? ISTo, no, 'excuse me' — do not excruciate me upon this crux of the Krino." Relative to Book I or Part I of the Lantern., he writes : "It seems to me that this part of the book might, with pro- priety, to say the least, be expunged. I fail to realize in ideas its logical connection with either the 'Jew' or the subse- quent career of the school-teacher." Singular as it is, the more a man knows, the more difficult ii becomes to present a subject in language that can be easily comprehended ; yet it seems strange that careful and scholarly readers can make such egregious mistakes in the interpretation of what seems to be a very simple matter. One places me on the side of the agnostic, because the arguments on that side appeal more strongly to him, while the other objects to Book I or Part I of the Lantern, because he cannot see the connection between that and the second part of the book. Introduction. xi The Schoolmaster, a deist, contends with tAvo antagonists — Ingersoll, an atheist, and the "Jew," who is a Christian. Atheism is combated in his argument with Ingersoll ; Christi- anity in that with the "Wanderer." Book I shows Mr. Eliot's belief in God; Book II, his unbe- lief in the Christian religion; and the whole book shows that he was a Unitarian. If some deductions from scriptural texts jar upon the timid, pious mind, or certain conclusions drawn from the admissions of the adversaries of Orthodoxy vex the wiseacre, let the reader remember that simple fairness demands that he reach his verdict only after careful consideration of all the arguments based upon the evidence. If he endorse the witness, he must not repudiate the testimony, and as Q. K. Philander Doesticks implies in his "apology" for writing Pluri-hus-tali, "Si stulti 'pactum fdcias, stulti stipendium tibi accipienduni sit." Take the case and say how it is. N^. B. Herring. BISHOP STRANGE'S LETTER. Bishop's House, Wilmington, N. C, September 5, 1906. My dear Dr. Herring : — I send you your book by expi'ess to-clay. I have been reading it steadily and carefully for the past three days. I started with jiencil and paper, taking notes, to commend, to criticise, and even to answer some of the positions of the Schoolmaster. Then, I concluded to read the book straight through and get its impression as a whole. I have done that, my dear Doctor ; and the impression is so sad and terrible that I will attempt no particular criticism nor reply. In the early part of your book you say that conscience is uo guide at all in treading the labyrinth of life; and, later on, you even urge that conscience is the cause of sin. You discredit Faith, telling men that it is just as likely to lead them to superstition and misery as to truth and happiness. The main part of the book is a strong argu- ment for the doctrine of absolute Necessity in all creation and a denial of human responsibility. There is no right and no wrong in the world ; the murderer and ravisher are not to be blamed or punished ; and the man is not to be praised who gives his life to relieve human suffering and to make this earth a sweeter, brighter, better place. They had to do what they did; and so there is no blame nor praise. You make Holy Scripture a magic book, penned by the hand of omniscient God, with every "t" crossed and every "i" dotted by Him ; and, then, you sneer at tlie position in mind and morals which such an interpretation of the Inspiration of Scripture places us. You make the great drama of Job a jest, and you excuse the treachery of Judas. Your chapter on the teachings of Jesus is the bitterest and most unfair arraignment of the words and character of the noblest man in human history that I have read in literature, with the possible excep- tion of Ingersoll. How can you define Jesus as a man who "deserts his best friends and forsakes those who are in sympathy with him to grovel with the canaille"; whose teaching is "the inculcation of selfish- ness," and whose advice is "to disregard the duties of this present world"? xiv Bishop Strangers Letter. You finish your book with a horrible sermon, as if it were the best sermon that Christianitj^ can give, which unreservedly declares that all the heathen are tortured forever in hell ; which declares that the distinguishing difference between Christianity and Materialism is, in regard to the end of man, that the one consigns most men to the everlasting tortures of hell, and the other consigns all men to worse tortures in a deeper hell. Ah, yes, Doctor, as I read your book, I see the ONE, Almighty, self-existent, all-wise Being creating this world with a purpose, forcing all men through life necessarily to this pur- pose; and that the end and meaning of this purpose is HELL — hell, flaming, torturing hell for all men, but — but — an infinitesimal few who, despite their reason and their moral sense, simply declare that they believe in Jesus and feel that they are converted by the Cross. It is not a suflScient answer, Doctor, to say that you have stated only one side and that you have tried to lind answers for the other side. I do not think, as a matter of fact, that any man can answer his own real arguments. Here it is so evident which is your side ; it is argued out so much more clearly and fully that men follow you in the argument, unless they, as few do, have the intellect and learning to argue for themselves. There is much fine, original matter in the book ; many true, beautiful, and wise things ; but you can give them to the world in another setting. Pardon me, if I have been too frank. Doctor ; but we have been so in all our talk ; and I agreed to be that when I took the book. With good wishes for you and Mrs. Herring, Sincerely yours, Robert Strange. REPLY TO BISHOP STRANGE. My deae Bishop : — Tbe book came safely by express, your letter following next day. I am disappointed in your letter. You have not done yourself justice. Queasiness is no substitute for argument, and hypercriticism never yet bettered an evil. I asked for bread, and you have given me what I already had — a stone. Or, rather, I asked for a fish, and you gave me a serpent. The stone I easily picked up as I journeyed through the Sacred Volume ; but the serpent — oh, the serpent ! When will he cease to crawl on his belly and eat dust? You assume more than the arguments justify. If the evidence is stronger on the materialistic side than it is on the other, why should you assume that I am more on the one than the other? I did my best on both sides, and nothing but poverty of evidence kept me from answering the Schoolmaster satisfactorily to you. I called on the brightest scholars and greatest theologians of this age; and I am proud to say that I have been treated with the utmost courtesy, and given all the aid at their command. I stopped writing the book a whole year because I could not answer some of the Schoolmaster's questions, nor find a man equal to the task. In way- off Boston I, at last, found a doughty champion of the Cross who, with a boldness made of knowledge, and a finesse to adorn Machiavel, came to my rescue and bridged the gap. Borden P. Bowne's letter is incorporated in the book, word for w^ord and letter for letter. It is a masterpiece of strategy, steganog- raphy, and scholarship — a genuine sesquipedaUa verha. He calls it Transcendental Empiricism. Whatever that means, it is an answer, and enabled me to go on with the book. To Bishop Candler I sent the chapters "Job" and "Judas," asking for a reply. He did his best, and was exceedingly courteous in his manner and style. It is in the chapter headed, "The Lesson," and breathes the spirit of true Christian humility. If "weak," as you intimated when we read the chapters together, it is in strong ii xvi Replg to Bishop Strange. contrast with .vours where you comphiiu that I '"make the great drama of Job a jest, and excuse the treachery of Judas." If the argument against conscience as a guide be fallacious, you ought to have shown the fallacy. Your criticism of my book is the same that Bruno, Servetus, and Savauarola underwent. When the Church had civic power the inquisition was the evidence, and the fagot and torture-chamber the argument; it is the "bitterest and most unfair arraignment." If the bible is not the word of God with every "t" crossed and every "i" dotted by Him, it is only a human document, and should be treated as other human documents. In a rec-ent defense of the bible and the Christian religion the writer says : "No man is fit to sijeak about religion who reviles the word of God. // he Imeic it to be false, he who reviles a book that the best people in the world revere is a bad man. with the Instincts of a blackguard." "Thou Shalt not suffer a witch to live." is Scripture. It is neither "magic" nor legerdemain, but a command of Almighty God — the father of Jesus Christ. It is just as much His word as "Thou shalt do no murder." Yet it has been abrogated by human legislation — yea, been reviled and repudiated by the Christian Church. Science and philosophy are both failures in accounting for the uni- verse. Human reason balks at the unknowable. Revelation as por- trayed in the Old, and elucidated in the New Testament, explains everything. A Sovereign* "God determines upon' His own acts, fore- seeing what the results will be in the free acts of His creatures, and so He determines those results." *"From eternity God foresaw all the events of the universe as fixed and certain." Orthodox Christianity as taught by the Roman Catholic Church, and many schismatic sects since the days of the Apostles, is sum- marized in the "Lantern of Diogenes'' and this summary gives you a feature of the "scheme of Salvation," stripped of its draperies, its gildings, and its canonicals. It is the same jjortrait painted by Tertullian and later on by Calvin. They were artists drawing from nature. Horrible, my dear Bishop, as this picture appears to you, it accounts for the universe and everything in it. It gcx^s Ix^yond the ♦Strong's Theologj', Repli^ to Bishop Strange. xvii limitations of science, and leads where philosophy has lost its path. It tells you why idiots are born to intellijient parents. It accounts for the pains of partiu-itiou; it tells why people come into the world blind, deaf, and dumb; why monstrosities exist, and why people are sent to hell. Orthodox Christianity — that is, bible or true Christianity — declares that God, for the salvation of a few — and a very few at that — of riffraff Jews, had His oicn son murdered; that He loved Jacob and hated Esau before they were born; that He is Sovereign, that He overlooks the sparrows, that His providence extends even over sin; and that, "He blinds the eyes and hardens the hearts of sinful men; and sends them strong delusions, that they should believe a lie and be damned." You will doubtless say that this is not true ; that it is the "bitterest and most unfair arraignment" ; but, my dear Bishop, it is bible doc- trine, and it is endorsetl by Jesus Christ himself. Turn to the fourth chapter of Mark and read it, and note especially the 11th and 12th verses. Is there anything in the Old Testament more horrible than that sermon, coming from the loving lips of Jesus? "Wicked men are called the rod, the staff, the ax, the saw. in his hand; and are therefore moved by him, as these instruments are by the hand of him who uses them." Is not this sermon of Jesus, quoted by Mark, a vindication of the Old Testament Scriptures? Did he want that multitude saved? Did he treat the only true friend (John the Baptist) he ever had as the Golden Rule commands? Was Teter, his right-hand man, on whom he founded his church, a high-toned gentleman? How about the Prodigal Son and his brother? Whose conduct did he approve, the industrious Martha's or the lazy Mary's? Why should he commend the unjust steward who had robbed his employer? Tell me if it is just to pay a laborer, for one hour's work, as much as another for a whole day. Why should he go to a fig tree, out of season for figs, and then curse it for being bare? Calvinism has stood the test from the day it was expounded by Jonathan Edwards, and no man has yet answered it. Now, wherein is my chapter on The Teachings of Jesus "bitter and unfair"? I have only used the evidence and drawn logical conclu- sions from the same. On the other hand, I have endeavored to xviii Repli; to Bishop Strange. palliate these horrible statements and excuse Omnipotence from the implication of evil. That I failed is only because the evidence is not there on which to build the argument. You have not read the book as the Schoolmaster read the bible. If the whole of anything is faulty, its parts, or at least some of its parts, are faulty. Dissection is the only means of getting at the structure of anything. If no part of a structure can be condemned, the whole certainly ought not to be condemned. Instead of analyzing the book as you purposed and as I desired, you throw up your hands in holy horror and accuse me of being on one side. Finally, as to that "horrible" sermon which is the closing chapter of the book. And before I say a word in defense of that sermon, allow me to quote two verses from what you must agree is the finest sermon ever preached on this earth : "Go in by the small gate. Broad and spacious is the road that leads to destruction, and those that go in by it are many; for small is the gate and narrow the way that leads to Life, and those that find it are few." In that "horrible" sermon we see science and philosophy, by their own confession, traveling at a rapid rate down the "broad and spacious road." Their inevitable goal is "destruction." "Hell — hell, flaming, torturing hell for all men, but — but — an infinitesimal few." Now, who said that — the Schoolmaster or Jesus Christ? The philosophy of materialism says all; the Sermon on the Mount lets off the few that "go through the small gate." No stronger argument was ever, nor ever can be, presented to the human mind for the acceptance of Christ. That horrid nightmare, "Hell," seems to affect you as the Lemu- rine Phantom affected Brutus at the battle of Philippi. Cfapsey could not stand the immaculate conception, and you are horrified at the idea of hell. Thousands of men who call themselves Christians accept Darwin's theory of evolution which denies the Fall, and therefore does away with any lifting-up process. It is the same old wrangle that has existed from the earliest days of the Christian era. If this sermon is so horrilile because it preaches hell, and tells you how to keep out of it. pray tell iu(> what you think of (he sermon Jesus i)reached to the multitude on the seashore. If you will give Repli^ to Bishop Strange. xix me one good reasou foi* bis preaching that sermon, I will agree to burn mine up and never open my moutb again on tbe subject of religion. * My dear Bishop, you ought to read tbe book again, and read it as the Schoolmaster read the bible. Had you read the preface care- fully you would have seen that both the "Sermon" and the "Teach- ings of Jesus" are legitimate. And if j'ou will read the bible account of Job and Judas, you will see that I have neither made a "jest" of the one nor "excused the treachery" of the other. If an Omnipotent God orders anything done, the human instru- ments selected to carry out His orders are not to be charged with the acts committed. If Christ was a mortal, if he was the sou of Joseph and Mary, born in the good old-fashion way, he was crucified by the Romans. If he was the Son of God, he was crucified by the direction of his Father. If you deny this, I will prove it by his own testimony : "As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father ; and I lay down my life for the sheep. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have powder to take it again. This commandment have I received from the Father." According to Matthew% Christ predicted his death, entombment, and resurrection : "For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the whale's belly, so shall the Son of Man be three nights in the heart of the earth." Christ told his disciples that he must go into Jerusalem and suffer many things and be crucified. He told Peter, James, and John not to publish the details of his transfiguration "until the Son of Man be risen from the dead." He said: "The Son of Man shall be be- trayed into the hands of men, and they shall kill him." He said that he "came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life, a ransom for many." He fell on his face and prayed: "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." When one of his disciples would have resisted the capture, Jesus said that he could, by praying to his Father, obtain for his defense "more than twelve legions of angels," and added : "But how, then, shall the Scriptures be fulfilled that it must be?" XX Repli^ to Bishop Strange. Moses aucl Elias talked to Jesus about his "decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." He said to his disciples : "Be- hold, we go up to Jerusalem, aud all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man shall be accomplished." According to Luke, Christ predicted that he should be delivered to the Gentiles, mocked, spit on, scourged, and crucifietl. When Pontius Pilate told Jesus that he had power to crucify or release him, Jesus answered that the Roman had no power except it was given from above. Everything that was done was done in order "that the Scriptures might be fulfilled." Take this proposition from the New Testament, aud the scheme of salvation is gone. If what happened could have been prevented by the Romans or by the Jews, then the New Testament is worthless. It is too late in this day of intelligent thought to continue the arguments of the Middle Ages. Could religion have made progress along with science and literature, our sacred books would have kept pace with other changes; and instead of a bible suited to barbarians, we would have one now in accord with civilized life. Thomas Jefferson, instead of being preached into hell for selecting the good and ignoring the bad, would be counted a benefactor of the human race. Ingersoll, for condemning the bloodthirstiness of Jehovah, and preaching the moral precepts of Jesus, would never have been stigmatized as an infidel. Stephen Girard, whose philanthropic monument to the orphan chil- dren of Philadelphia is doing more real good than all the churches of that city, would be canonized instead of doomed to the Christian's deepest hell. Yes, my dear Bishop, you will have to get rid of your witness. The testimony is -too sti'ong, the evidence too clear for the Crapseys, the Coxes, and other strong men in the Church. Set aside your witness or accept his testimony, as the Catholics do. And if God has told you to give diseased meat to strangers or sell it to aliens, do that. All the horrible commands laid down in Leviticus and Deuteronomy are as binding to-day, and upon us, as they were then upon the Jews, for he says : "This shall be a statute forever unto them throughout their generations." A quotation from a "Schoolmaster" of the olden time, with an answer by a great ecclesiastic, will fitly close my apology for the "bitterest and most unfair arraignment": Repli^ to Bishop Strange. xxi ONAN. "The race of Ouan exhibits great siusularities. The patriarch Judah, his father, hiy with his claughter-iu-hnv. Tamar the Phoeui- ciau, in the highroad ; Jacob, the father of Judah, was at the same time married to two sisters, the daughters of an idohiter ; and de- luded both his father and father-in-law. Lot, the granduncle of Jacob, lay with his two daughters. Saleum. one of the descendants of Jacob and Judah, espoused Rahab the t'anaanite, a prostitute. Boaz, son of Saleum and Rahab, received into his bed Ruth the Midianite ; and was great-grandfather of David. David took away Bathsheba from the warrior Uriah, her husband, and caused him to be slain, that he might be unrestrained in his amour. Lastly, in the two genealogies of Christ, which differ in so many point.s, but agree in this, we discover that he descended from this tissue of fornication, adultery, and incest. ■•Nothing is more proper to confound human prudence ; to humble our limited minds, and to convince us that the ways of Providence are not like our ways. The reverend father Dom Calmet makes this reflection, in alluding to the incest of Judah with Tamar, and to the sin of Onan, spoken of in the 38th chapter of Genesis : 'Scripture,' he observes, 'gives us the details of a history which on the first perusal strikes our minds as not of a nature for edification ; but the hidden sense which is shut up in it is as elevated as that of the mere letter appears low to carnal eyes. It is not without good reasons that the Holy Spirit has allowed the histories of Tamar, of Rahab, of Ruth, and of Bathsheba to form a part of the genealogy of Jesus Christ." This ancient "Schoolmaster" then comments as follows upon the answer of Dom Calmet : '•It might have been well if Dom Calmet had explained these sound reasons, by which we might have cleared up the doubts and appeased the scruples of all honest and timorous souls who are anxious to comprehend how the Supreme Being, the Creator of worlds, could be born in a Jewish village, of a race of plunderers and prostitutes. This mystery, which is not less inconceivable than other mysteries, was assuredly worthy the explanation of so able a commentator." Sincerely, your trieud. N. B. Herking. BOOK I. THE LANTERN OF DIOGENES. PART I. CHAPTER I. THE OLD MAN IN THE CAR. On a warm afternoon in the montli of June, 1889, an old man was traveling at a high rate of speed, in a gorgeous palace car, on one of the great trunk railways of the United States. He was a good distance from home, and was returning from a tour of inspection of the schools of the ISTorth and West. He was the only passenger in the car, and, his journey being a long and tedious one, he had provided against the ennui and monot- ony of travel by supplying himself with some of the current literature of the day. He was sociable in his nature and habits, and preferred the society of his fellow-man to any other enjoy- ment, but when alone and comfortable he never failed to have at hand some book or periodical from which he received in- struction, or whiled away the time between his more active engagements. His hair was short cropped and white with age. His face was wrinkled and his back bowed, but his eye was bright and his broad forehead indicated thought. His dress was plain but neat, and his spectacles pushed up on his forehead showed that he did not need them in reading. He had been near-sighted in youth, and wore glasses mainly to see at a dis- tance. Age had flattened his eyeballs, and the focus of light had come in the easy range of ordinary men in their prime. He wore glasses now more from habit than from any benefit he derived from them. He had been a student from early youth, and the acquisition of knowledge had been the one absorb- ing passion of his life. He had had the benefit of the finest educational facilities of his day, and had been graduated with the highest honors from a famous university of the South. He 4 The Lantern of Diogenes. began at an early day to examine critically his own knowledge, and, finding mucli of it faulty, lie inquired into the methods of teaching, and to his sui-prise and chagrin, found them crude, inefficient, and ill adapted to the requirements of the age. His Alma Mater, which at one time he worshiped as a tutelary goddess, became in later years a fetich of priggism where the smatterer bowed and the pedant strove for the honors of a Machiavelian sophistry. In every department of human learning which he investigated he found the same superficiality, the same gloss and tinsel. The science and art of agriculture were in the most primitive condition, and the laws which gov- erned the growth of plants understood by few. The physi- cian's greatest ambition was to "smell like a doctor," and his armamentarium consisted in murdered technicalities of which he knew little more than his deluded patrons. The lawyer would speak knowingly of the Lex talionis, while the preacher quoted Scripture and twisted it to suit his own church and creed. Some of the best mechanics had spent much of their time in working at perpetual motion, and the alchemist's dream still haunted the chemist, while the philosopher's stone engrossed the attention of nearly every class above the common laborer. But, of all men, the teacher was found most sadly wanting in useful information; and so deeply grounded was his prejudice, and so bent upon following the ruts of his predecessors, that the caustic lines of Boileau became a fitting animadversion upon the farcical purism of the average school-master : "Brim full of learning, see the pedant stride ! Bristling with horrid Greek, and puffed with pride, A thousand authors he in vain has read. And with their maxims stuffed his empty head ; And thinks that without Aristotle's rule Reason is blind, and common sense a fool." THE SCHOOLMASTER. The Schoolmaster. 5 CHAPTER II. THE SCHOOLMASTER. To BE a sclioolmaster in the South prior to the war, and more especially about the year 1840, was looked upon as an admission on the part of the teacher that he was good for little else. A few noted exceptions might be found here and there, where by long and persistent use of the rod a sort of savage respect had attached itself to particular individuals ; but, as a rule, when the Southern gentleman wanted a teacher, he sent to Massachusetts or Connecticut, as he did for his ax-helves, believing that no good could come out of this modern ISTazareth save a cotton bale, a nigger, or a mule. This phantasm of the Southern mind had built a temple of wisdom in New England, and, as true knowledge could be obtained from no other source, the Yankee schoolmaster came periodically to keep the free and ''entered" schools of the South. Ichabod Crane, Irving's hero of "Sleepy Hollow," is a type of the l^^ew England gaber- lunzies who migrated annually to !N^orth Carolina to instruct the young "Tarheel" in the mysteries of foreign slang. "I kotch it," I have heard one say as he played ball with the children when school was out. They brought with them an abundance of "waters Lethean," of which the tow-headed urchins drank copious draughts ; and hence "your Epimenides, your somnolent Peter Klaus, since named Rip Van Winkle." Notwithstanding the unsavory atmosphere in which the native teacher was compelled to live, this old gentleman decided in early manhood to devote his life-work to the instruction of others. With an honesty unknown in the other professions, he pursued the line of truth as far as he could trace it, with- out thanks and with little reward. He passed through the usual stages of hopeful optimism, despairing pessimism, indif- ferent submission, and finally in his old age entered the Elysian fields of true philosophy. At middle age he had learned a lesson which few ever learn, that is, the limit of his o\vn capac- ity. After that he never attempted impossibilities. He saw that the possible was so much neglected that life was too short to waste time after the impossible. He had learned that the 6 The Lantern of Diogenes. IminarL mind could never attain to the limits of all knowledge, and for years he had only endeavored to instill into the minds of his pupils some of the fundamental principles. He made it a rule of his profession to correct error rather than to teach truth, believing that negative evidence — that is, a statement of what a thing is not — is more valuable than dogmatic assertion. The modem method of "pushing" at school, of going through and over books, of cranmiing, learning rules by heart, and recit- ing by rote, he repudiated as a waste of time and an injury to the understanding. As a man, he was somewhat after the order of Rousseau's portraiture of his Spanish friend, De Altuna : "The idea of vengeance could no more enter bis head than the desire of it could proceed from his heart. His mind was too great to be vindictive, and I have frequently beard him say, with the greatest coolness, that no mortal could offend him. He was the only man I ever knew whose principles were not intolerant. It was not of the least consequence to him whether his friend was a Jew, a Protestant, a Turk, a bigot, or an atheist, provided be was an honest man." Heteroclite, bizarre, sui generis, or some such appellative, appeared to befit him both as a teacher and a citizen, and accordingly he was known in his community as an oddity. Even as a young man, and at college, he was considered queer, and having no double name, he adopted the middle initial G., conferred upon him by his college mates on account of his fan- cied resemblance to a ghost. He ever afterward signed his name John G. Eliot, and sometimes simply "Ghost Eliot." His pupils nicknamed him "The Old Stive," but whether he ever heard of that is questionable, as he commanded the respect of all classes. He was known within the radius of a large circle, as- "The Ghost," but to his face he was always respectfully spoken to as Mr. Eliot. "When did you see the Ghost?" was often the question of one friend to another. ''The Ghostr 7 CHAPTER III. "the ghost." Mr. Eliot tauglit bv precept and example, and while he had for years endeavored to instill into the minds of his pupils the fundamental principles of all knowledge, he had watched the teachings of others, not only in the schoolroom, but from the pulpit, the rostrum, and the secular press. Speculative philos- ophy had for many years engaged his leisure moments, and he had studied with a close scrutiny the various theories of philos- opher, minister, and statesman. He had found from expe- rience and obsei-vation that truth lay buried in the inner kernel of all things, and could only be foimd by dissection and analy- sis; that the pericarps or husks of philosophy alone were seen by the multitude, and that to get the pure gold the mine must be sapped to the bottom. He analyzed the human mind, and divided it into compartments embracing truth and error. He compared the psychical states of men and brutes, and found them so closely allied as to bear the semblance of kinship, yet so far apart that no theory of descent has been able to bridge the gap. The mai'velous intellect of Darwin, the keen logic of Spencer, the profound thought of Helmholtz, and the pains- taking studies of Haeekel, have never yet discovered the "miss- ing link" in the chain of cause and effect which attempts to bind man to a common origin with the brute. Evolution in its broad sense he admitted, as every true philosopher is compelled to admit, but the theory of man's descent he found to be based upon pure assumption, as all theories concerning God, the uni- verse, and the devil are based upon postulation. In his philos- ophy he assumed nothing; but, taking facts as they are pre- sented to the minds of all thinkers, he reasoned out a philosophy of his own — a creed, as it were, in which he could find no fact in the universe running counter to his theories. He made a circle aroimd every living creature, and called it the "circle of the finite." Beyond this circle lay the infinite, and into this infinity he found that man was ever piying, ever tn'ing to project himself. 8 The Lantern of Diogenes. The lower animals, so far as lie could see, completed their whole existence here. Their distinctive faculty, as well as the common faculties of man and brute, remained satisfied in this circumscribed area — never pushing the brute to a hope beyond, nor dragging him with a fear of the far-oif and unsettled future. Man alone he found delving into the mysteries of the infinite, yet never satisfied, because of his intruding fears and doubts. He sought for a reason why man should trouble him- self for that which appeared to be so far beyond his grasp, and in settling this point he compared by analysis the human and the brute mind, noting particularly the distinctive character- istics of each. The physical senses, appetites, and the passions he found conunon to both, with the balance in favor of the brute as regards development. Especially sight, hearing, and smelling, he found to be more acute in the lower animals ; and that the distinctive faculty called instinct — a free gift to the bnite, as reason is a free gift to man — unerring as a guide, incapable of imj^rovement, perfect, and of which man can have no conception — a faculty which appears to be a substitute for reason, so closely allied, yet so far apart from reason that it sets a barrier between man and beast which no theory of mate- rialism can overthrow. From this faculty of instinct he found no dependencies; therefore the bnite is ■without hope, without charity, without faith. Reverence, veneration, knowledge of good and evil, civilization, progress, religion, belong to man alone. Instinct enables the honey-bee to make its comb, the horse to find its way home through the mazes and intricacies of a virgin forest, the beaver to make its dam, and the carrier- pigeon to direct its flight ; but instinct ncA^er profits by expe- rience, never teaches one generation how to avoid the mistakes of a preceding one, never educates youth nor protects age. Cir- cumscribed, limited to the finite, bound with a Promethean- chain to this clifted-stone, it has no means of extending itself beyond that tether. Infinity is a realm of which instinct has no conception, and the spirit of the beast must end with the physical forces which bring it into existence. How different with men! "Indued with intellectual sense and souls," they stand out, reach out, grasp all, and long for more. ''The Ghost" 9 The circle of the finite cannot contain the mind of man. Reason, with its dependencies, enables him to traverse the infinite, to project himself beyond the pale of the known into the regions where truth, error, happiness, and misery reign supreme; where time and space have no beginning and no end- ing, where mutation ceases, and where reform is impossible; for it is written : "He that is unjust, let him be unjust still; aud he that is filthy, let him be filthy still ; aud he that is righteous, let him be righteous still ; and he that is holy, let him be holy still." 10 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTEE IV. THE PHILOSOPHER. Enthroned upon the highest pinnacle of the infinite sits Reason, crowned with the tiara of Justice, clad in the purple robes of Faith, Hope, and Charity, having for its footstool Reverence, Veneration, Conscience, Worship, Superstition, and Fear. Upon this couch Religion was bom, and at this altar it bends its knee. It is pure and Godlike as it approaches the croT\m, low and groveling as it descends to the foot. Without reason, the dependent faculties could not exist; without these faculties, religion would be impossible. With reason alone, man would be simply an intellectual machine, wound up by the hand of Time, to run its course without pleasure, without pain, with- out hope or fear; stoical, never in error, never in doubt, doing no good, doing no harm. — progressing forever in the line of truth — simply to know, to know until he knew it all, and then what? Ask the Pantheist. To be a man, then, and a reli- gionist requires a combination of intellect and its dependent faculties, but, astounding as the statement may be, it is never- theless true that religion has ignored its fountainhead, and seeks to maintain its existence by feeding from these inferior and dependent sources. This it is which enables infidelity to flaunt its florid rhetoric before the dazzled gaze of ignorance. This it is that shames the honest seeker after tnith, and causes his ears to tingle, and his cheek to bum at the irreverent propa- gandism he hears in the pulpit. This it is which forces the philosopher back upon his own resources, and causes him to ignore the teachings of priest and infidel alike. As the prime object of all teaching is to influence conduct, to give lessons through any medium whereby the individual may be influenced to act to his own detriment can never come ■within the pale of true education, and as such should not be encouraged. To get at the truth of any matter, we have but one unerring guide. The senses are proverbially delusive, human desires are but a mockery, and that ever-paraded moni- tor, conscience, sways the human heart to and fro upon the The Philosopher. 11 billows of life without rudder or ballast, driving one in this direction, another in that, approving in one what it condemns in another, and blinding all with the beautiful phantasmagoria of self-approval. Were it left to the senses, the world would still be flat, and imagination would again place it upon the coiled serpent. "There is a way which seemeth right unto a man ; hut the end thereof are the ways of death." Our desires are still less to be trusted. We live imder the influence of so many artificial stimuli that those instincts which to the brute are unerring guides, become in man ignes fatui, leading us in devious paths, and often stranding us in the mud. That divine gift which alone separates man from the brute, and through which all the grand achievements of the world have been accomplished ; that which enables him to think on abstract subjects and profit by experience; that which is the only image of God in man — reason, and reason alone, is the guide to truth. If man is ever to be judged by appearances, and have sentence passed upon him through the medium of sense, his case will remain hopeless; but when enlightened philosophy shall formu- late a creed in accordance with the highest attributes of human- ity, the veil of charity will then cover up the ugly places in man's nature, and fit him for the exercise of that love which is so much spoken of and so little realized. As well might we attempt to get at the chemical composition and therapeutic effect of a sugar-coated pill by looking at it, as to essay an analysis of the hidden springs in human nature by looking at man. His composition is so intricate, his make-up so elabo- rate, and his attributes so varied, that anatomists, physiolo- gists, and psychologists, with all their studies of body, function, and soul, have failed to satisfy even themselves on the points of their most painstaking labor. This unsatisfactory result may be traced to two essential errors: one, of the manner in which the investigation is made; the other, in the means used to make it. The mathematician in working out a problem starts with the premises and labors to the end with one instrument. Hopes, fears, preconceived opinions, and appearances do not enter into the effort. Reason 12 The Lantern of Diogenes. alone battles with the difficulty, and, if the result comes out unsatisfactorily, he does not abandon his means, but with the same reviews his work and detects the error ; or, if there is no error, acquiesces in the result without quibbling for an answer that he thought, or expected, or had been told would be the proper one. So in the mechanic arts, so in law and medicine; then why not in the more refined and subtile philosophy of metaphysics ? Why trust and appeal to the intellect in all mat- ters pertaining to material benefits, and so unceremoniously thrust it aside as untrustworthy when it comes to the study of ethical and psychological law? Is there nothing real in all these wordy abstractions which harass and perplex without satisfying, or does the fault lie in the method of study and the ends to be gained? Have we any criterion of truth, that we should follow automatically as the shadow follows the sub- stance ? This was claimed and enforced during the Dark Ages, and the Avorld lay dormant. Tinith was claimed to have a vis- ible throne in the Church, yet the history of those times is a long history of crime against the fear-corded intelligence of man. This criterion (Truth) is now centered in the thinking capacity of every rational creature, and when a man lays aside his reason he denies God. The tnith can be arrived at just as an eclipse of the sun can be arrived at, but you must work the problem out the same as the astronomer works out the eclipse. The intellectual world is tired and sick of dogmatic teaching. "Prove all things ; bold fast that which is good," and "be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you." THE SUBJECT ILLUSTRATED. Faith. 13 CHAPTER Y. FAITH. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds. — Tennyson. For the finite to grasp the infinite would be to make a part equal to the whole; yet the finite, by the terms of its own exist- ence, and with the aid of the evidence at its command, can in a manner arrive at conclusions which are positive. Positive evi- dence, or the evidence of our senses, will compel every one to admit that time is without limit either in the past or future, that space is boundless in every direction. ISTo man has experi- ence when there was no time, neither has he come to the limit of space. Evidence by denial, exclusion, or exception, twist it as you may, can never exclude either the one or the other, nor bring them within the scope of the finite. Synthetic reasoning, from whatever point you start, can only carry you to the circum- ference of the circle. At the boim.dary of the finite, reason must stop, because evidence becomes inoperative and testimony futile. Here another faculty assumes control, and, having its impulse from positive data, can never vary from the direction it takes. Faith is the only means by which the finite can extend itself into the infinite. Beyond the limits of the finite, it is influenced no more by finite things. With its impulse from truth, its direction is for- ever in the line of truth; but with its momentum from error, its progress tends to error ad infinitum. In the philosophy of Materialism faith is a condemned faculty. It is regarded as the offspring of ignorance and superstition alone. Denial of facts and assumption of truths are the bane of all systems of philos- ophy. The contention is for what we want rather than for what we have. Faith being one of the dependencies of reason, and being influenced and modified by the other dependent faculties, becomes a guide or a snare, according to the influence exerted by one or all of its fellow dependents. Faith, the product of reason, is simply an extension of reason beyond the finite into the infinite. Faith, the product of the subordinate faculties, is 14 The Lantern of Diogenes. only an extension of those faculties into the infinite. Now, as truth within the circle of the finite is only attainable through reason, to find truth in the realm of infinity, we must exercise that faith which is based upon reason alone. Faith, based upon the subordinate faculties, is always liable to be erroneous, because these faculties contradict one another, and because they form "in the brain, that wondrous world with one inhabitant, recesses dim and dark, treacherous sands and dangerous shores, where seeming sirens tempt and fade; streams that rise in un- known lands from hidden springs, strange seas with ebb and flow of tides, resistless billows urged by storms of flame, pro- found and awful depths hidden by mist of dreams, obscure and phantom realms where vague and fearful things are half re- vealed, jungles where passions' tigers crouch, and skies of cloud and blue where fancies fly with painted wings that dazzle and mislead; and the poor sovereign of this pictured world is led by old desires and ancient hates, and stained by crimes of many vanished years, and pushed by hands that long ago were dust, until he feels like some bewildered slave that Mockery has throned and crowned."* ♦Ingersoll's "Reply to Gladstone." Dialectics. 15 CHAPTER VI. DIALECTICS. "And the poor sovereign" (Reason) "of this pictured world is led by old desires and ancient hates, and stained by crimes of many vanished years, and pushed by hands that long ago were dust, until he feels like some bewildered slave that Mockery has throned and crowned." Rhetoric ! Beautiful, high-sounding, turgid rhetoric ! Weap- ons of the evangelist — of the revivalist. Shall the philosopher imitate the priest? Shall Reason abdicate her throne at the behest of a phrase-monger? "The intellect is not always supreme. It is surrounded by clouds. It sometimes sits in darkness. It is often misled — sometimes, in superstitious fear, it abdicates. It is not always a white light. The passions and prejudices are prismatic — they color thoughts. Desires betray the judgment and cunningly mislead the will."* Were these powers taken into the council that projected the Mont Cenis tunnel? Are they invited on shipboard in a storm at sea ? Did they help Lieutenant Maury to construct his navi- gation charts? Did Columbus invoke their aid when he set out on his voyage of discovery? It is a "poor sovereign," indeed, that takes these fearful helpers into his cabinet of state. Tor- quemada and Bonaparte chose them for boon companions and bedfellows. The mathematician utterly ignores them, the astronomer does not recognize them, and the philosopher should say to them, "Get thee behind me, Satan." The passions are the common property of man and brute. What makes the man is his power to think on abstract subjects. This power to think is independent of the physical senses or the passions. The senses cannot help the mind to think. The passions, when they intrude, always do harm. The mind often becomes more acute and active when one or more of the senses are destroyed. A cele- brated blind teacher of anatomy in New York is an example. The deaf, dumb, and blind asylums prove the same thing. Bonaparte's character and career show Avhat intellect will do, ♦IngersoU's "Reply to Gladstone. 16 The Lantern of Diogenes. aided by all the passions. The character of Lord Bacon is another example. Does anybody suppose that Euclid cared about the "obscure and phantom realms where vague and fear- ful things are half revealed, jungles where passions' tigers crouch, and skies of cloud and blue where fancies fly with painted wings that dazzle and mislead" ? Was he misled by this unexplored and tangled mass of disarray? Did fear, hope, despair, hatred, or love aid him in the solution of his celebrated forty-seventh problem? To what use could the mathematician put conscience? What can the surgeon do with prayer? How far would any or all of the passions direct the engineer, the navigator, or the statesman ? Does not the downfall of empires show what irrational legislation can do for men? Faith, di- rected by reason, brought Columbus to the Western Hemisphere. Faith, directed by conscience, caused Paul to persecute the early Christians. Faith, directed by reason, enabled Eads to channel the mouth of the Mississippi River. Faith, directed by worship, prayer, and superstition, caused Paulina to lose her virtue in the Temple of Isis.* Faith, directed by reason, makes agricul- ture possible; gives impulse to commerce, navigation, and edu- cation ; builds cities, wharves, steamboats, and railroads ; makes progress, civilization, and contentment possible. Faith, directed by the passions, causes internecine wars, religious persecutions, and autos-de-fS. "The experience of many ages proves that men may be ready to fight to the death, and to persecute without pity, for a religion whose creed they do not understand, and whose precepts they habitually disobey."t — Blind faith. Shall a man dofl^ his reason the moment he puts on the garb of religion? Is it possible that God's physical laws are based upon reason, and his spiritual laws upon the subsidiaries to rea- son? Is revelation a thought of God? If so, how can revela- tion be above reason? Can the triangle contain more than two right angles in the mind of God? Is reason the image of God in man ? If so, God's reason and man's reason are alike. Such were the philosophical conclusions of this gray-headed pedagogue from North Carolina, as he sat in the car reading the North American Review. *Josephus. tMacaulay. Evidence. 1 7 CHAPTEK VII. EVIDENCE. Mr. Eliot was somewliat startled by a long, shrill screech of the locomotive whistle, and a rather sudden slowing up of the train as it approached a station ; but, as his attention was deeply engrossed upon the subject he was reading, he hardly knew the train had stopped until another passenger entered the car, and caused him to look up from his book. The passenger was a portly gentleman, rather above the middle age, with a beaming, kindly, rather full countenance, and a pleasant greet- ing on his lip, as he took a seat next our old friend and re- marked : ''I am glad to find that I am not entirely alone in the car, as I always prefer company to solitude, and especially after a hearty breakfast." Without laying down his book, the old man adjusted his glasses and returned the gratulations of his new acquaintance with a smile and a pleasant word, to let him know that his presence was welcome; and with some emo- tion he directed the conversation at once to his book by saying, "I have just read a most astounding assertion, and as the author is a lawyer, and supposed to be well versed in matters of evi- dence, it appears all the more strange as coming from such a source." This at once opened the way for what is to follow in these pages ; and the new-comer, glancing at the book, saw it was the North American Review, and his eyes danced with a merry twinkle as he looked at the page and read, "A Reply to the Rev. Henry M. Eield, D.D." "May I ask what the assertion is that appears to be so astounding?" Mr. Eliot opened the book and read this sentence : "In the nature of things, there can be no evidence of the exist- ence of an infinite being."* "Will you please to give me your idea of what may be termed evidence ?" "Evidence, to my mind, may be reckoned under three forms — that of positive, negative, and rationalistic." "What do I understand you to mean by positive evidence ?" *"A Reply to the Rev. Henry M. Field," page 483. 2 18 The Lantern of Diogenes. "Positive evidence is that form of testimony which is only deducible from the physical senses. "To make a positive assertion in regard to anything or any occurrence, you must either see, hear, taste, smell, or touch the object of which your assertion is the subject. The probability of error in this mode of coming to conclusions is so great that the testimony at all times is made doubtful. Our earliest life is made up of sense impressions only, and, to correct the defects of one another, all the senses must be compared before they can give just information ; and, notwithstanding the experience of a lifetime, the eye will continue to deceive, subjective noises in the ear will distract, and the sense of smell is often perverted by a disagreeable sight or an unpleasant sound. Taste and touch, also, are subject to similar perversions, and require the most watchful care to prevent error, and we never live long enough to get entirely rid of the delusion. The clinical ther- mometer is a tacit admission on the part of every physician in the land that the tactile sense of the most delicate fingers can only approximate the truth as to temperature; the mirage of the desert is a plague-spot to the weary traveler ; and the tricks of the juggler become a divine alchemy to the uninformed. ISTegative evidence is a minus quantity in relation to the percep- tive powers — a sort of unofficial affirmation or assent of the mind. "Rationalistic evidence, as you well know, is the deduction of pure reason from admitted premises. Negative evidence may be taken in a description or definition by denial, exclusion, or exception — a statement of what a thing is not. Like the positive, it becomes useful in many of the factitious ordinances of life, and may become auxiliary to pure reason in seeking an unknown quantity. But, in a problem where you are limited to the synthetical mode of reasoning, little evidence can be admitted save the rationalistic." The "Assertion" Anali^zed. 19 CHAPTER YIII. THE "assertion" ANALYZED. The two travelers had become very good friends in this time, and the stout gentleman, turning to his companion, inquired if he thought that, by any one or all three of the modes of evi- dence discussed in the preceding chapter, it could be demon- strated that Colonel Ingersoll's assertion in regard to the exist- ence of an infinite being might be false. "To demonstrate the absolute falsity of the assertion," replied the schoolmaster, "and to the entire satisfaction of all thinking minds, might be a task of great difficulty, but to place the bal- ance of evidence against the assertion, I not only think feasible, but of easy performance." "And, pray, what evidence is there to place against the as- sertion ?" "There is a great deal of negative, much positive, and some rationalistic evidence, which, if you will exercise a degree of patience, I will endeavor to present as briefly as possible" ; and, continuing, the old man said: "All truths move in parallel lines. They never cross, never clash, never nin counter to one another. The axioms of Euclid stand in perfect harmony with every fact and every true theoiy of existence. There is not one single cosmic atom in the uni- verse which interferes vdtli the statement that 'a straight line is the shortest distance between two points.' If it can be found that one of the least factors of existence shows violence to any theory, that theory in the nature of things must be false. A theory, to be true, must be based upon facts admitted and self- evident, and the theory must be the product of synthetic evolu- tion from those facts. For any statement to be absolutely true, it must be found that no fact in the whole universe impinges upon that statement. The assertion of Colonel Ingersoll, that 'there can be no evidence of the existence of an infinite being' is dogmatic, pedantic, and not warranted by the facts of ex- istence. "In the discussion of any problem, all parties must be agreed upon fimdamental principles. Unless the starting-points are 20 The Lantern of Diogenes. the same, no process of ratiocination can ever bring disputants together. All results in mathematics and astronomy are based upon the fact that a straight line is the shortest distance be- tween two points. To deny this fact would make mining, engi- neering, railroading, navigation, impossible. Natural philos- ophy would build a 'Flying Island,' and the sciences would seek for a new Laputa, and a world of chance would be substituted for law and order, if it should be held that a curved line is shorter than a straight one ; yet no one can prove it. That two and two are equal to four is not susceptible of demonstration, still no one denies it. ISTow, the fact from which the balance of evidence may be placed against the 'assertion,' is the existence of the human mind." At this point the lecturer interrupted the old gentleman with the exclamation, "Hold! you are getting into deep water. We must have an understanding. What is the mind? Philosophy is not settled on this point. Is it a force or a mode of motion ? A phenomenon dependent upon the movement of molecules, or is it the result of isomeric and metameric chemical changes in the brain?" "The mind is immaterial," said the old man. "The meta- meric and isomeric changes in chemical combinations deal with matter alone, and cannot be brought up as examples to illustrate combinations of material and immaterial phenomena. Any theoiy as to the movement of molecules setting up phenomena de novo is gratuitous, and must be assigned to the regions of dogmatism. We will not put it in a crucible and endeavor to reduce it to its component parts, neither will we call it a force or a mode of motion ; but we insist that it is an entity in contra- distinction to a nonentity — something instead of nothing. If you try to think of nothing, you can only do so by trying to associate in your mind the absence of existence. But, if you think of the mental state of one of your intimate friends, that condition of vacuity or nonentity is not presented to your mind as is the case when you try to think of nothing. This makes it self-evident that the mind does exist, and that it is some- thing." The "Assertion" Anali^zed. 21 The lecturer thought for a moment, and then said: "If the mind really be an entity, something instead of nothing, it is either self-existent or it is the effect of one or more causes." "That is just what we will come to after a while," said the old man ; "but we must establish its relation to the body before we can proceed to investigate its causes." 22 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTEK IX. MIND AND BRAIN. Continuing the conversation, the ancient "Tarheel" expressed the opinion that all intelligent persons were agreed that the brain is that particular portion of the animal body with which the mind is immediately connected. "I agree with you in this opinion/' replied his companion; "but in what manner it is related to the brain has never yet been determined." "Scientific investigation/' said the teacher, "is of necessity pure materialism, and is compelled to stop at the borders of the spirit-world. In this problem we have matter and spirit, or material and immaterial powers, so intimately related and asso- ciated that science is not only unwilling but unable to venture a solution." "Would it not more properly come within the province of the psychologist?" "]^o. Theology and psychology both have hammered at this solution ever since man be^an to think on the subject, and with a bitterness and rancor more suited to the furies." "Is there then no explanation to phenomena which are under the daily observation of all men?" "An explanation that would be satisfactory to all minds is, perhaps, an impossible thing, but the balance of evidence may be placed here, as in other intricate cases, by reasoning from such facts as are known." "I can't understand," replied the stout gentleman, "how it is possible for much evidence to be adduced from such a paucity of facts." "It is tnie, the facts are not many, but, by a system of exclu- sion, evidence by denial will aid reason very much in getting a start." "Would you exclude all the present theories on the subject?" "I would first analyze those theories and see if they are founded on facts." Mind and Brain. 23 "The thcologic idea seems to be, that the mind exists inde- pendently of the brain, and only uses the brain as an implement or tool." "That is about their position," obsen^ed the old man, "and some pseudo-materialists maintain the same views, and among the most noted was the late Dr. John "W. Draper. "He attempts to argue from the construction of the brain and nervous mechanism, the necessity for an independent vital prin- ciple or soul, and says: 'Thus it may be proved that those actions which we tei*m intellectual do not spring from mere matter alone, nor are they functions of mere material combi- nations ; for, though it is indisputably true that the mind seems to grow with the bodily structure, and declines with it, exhibit- ing the full perfection of its powers at the period of bodily maturity, it may be demonstrated that all this arises from the increase, perfection, and diminution of the instrument through which it is working. An accomplished artisan cannot display his powers through an imperfect tool, nor, if the tool should become broken or become useless through impairment, is it any proof that the artisan has ceased to exist; and so, though we admit that there is a correspondence between the development of the mind and the growth of the body, we deny that it follows from that either that the mind did not pre-exist or that the death of the body implies its annihilation.' " The lecturer himself could see that there was some "lost motion" in this theory, and observed : "This reasoning, carried out to its legitimate conclusion, would make the minds of all men equal — even that of the man-eating savage or the idiotic cretin would compare favorably with the greatest benefactors of the race. The Australian on his log and Sir Isaac Newton, disembodied and deprived of the imperfect tools of the present life, would become co-artisans of equal merit in that land where there are no tools to work with, and no work to do." Mr. Eliot agreed with him in this criticism, and proceeded to give the materialistic view, or such deductions as science is able to present, by quoting from Dr. Austin Flint's work on "Human Physiology." " 'At the present day, we are in possession of a sufficient num- ber of positive facts to render it certain that there is and can 24 The Lantern of Diogenes. be no intelligence without brain-substance; that, when brain- substance exists in a normal condition, intellectual phenomena are manifested with a vigor proportionate to the amount of matter existing; that destruction of brain-substance produces loss of intellectual power ; and, finally, that exercise of the intel- lectual faculties involves a physiological destruction of nervous substance, necessitating regeneration by nutrition here as in other tissues of the living organism. The brain is not, strictly speaking, the organ of the mind, for this statement would imply that the mind exists as a force independently of the brain ; but the mind is produced by the brain-substance; and intellectual force, if we may term the intellect a force, can be produced only by the transmutation of a certain quantity of matter.' " The stout gentleman was pleased with the mention of Dr. Flint, and said that he knew Flint in his lifetime, and a very able man he was. "But," he continued, ''if Dr. Flint has stated facts, and his conclusion be true, that 'mind is produced by the brain-substance,' then the brain becomes a functioning organ, and may be compared to other organs in the animal body, whose functions are well established. Bile, tears, saliva, and urine are secretions from and by their respective organs, the liver, the lachrymal and salivary glands, and the kidneys ; so, if mind is only a secretion or excretion from the brain, this theory stands on as poor ground as the preachers' theory, and the exclamation of Pope Leo the Tenth, when he dismissed his prelates from their discussion of the soul, Et redit in nihilum, quod fuit ante nihil* is applicable to both, and the 'assertion' of Colonel In- gersoll remains unchallenged and unrefuted." Our philosopher expected this sophism, and challenged his opponent in these words: "All these secretory and excretory organs have blood as a material from which, by their own action, the various secretions and excretions are formed. These secretions are material sub- stances, and may be reduced to about the same elements as the blood from which they are fonned. "You may ask if the brain has not blood also. *It began of nothing and in nothing it ends. Mind and Brain. 25 "I would answer yes, and a veiy abundant supply, but it is for the nutrition of the brain-substance itseK, and not for any secretory purposes. "The anatomy of the liver shoAvs that it has a double circu- lation, one for the renewal of liver substance and the other for the purpose of fabricating bile; and so with all the other secre- tory organs of the body. The spleen is the only organ of any consequence except the brain which has but one circulation, and, as there is no visible effect of splenic action, its function to this day is problematical. The mind being the product of brain- action, the question arises, 'By what manner of means is this product the result of brain-action V Bile, the product of liver- action, is a material substance made of blood, another material substance. Mind, the product of brain-action, is immaterial, and made from — what? "That like begets like is a law of nature. "Tm^o of a sort will beget the same sort. "What does the brain make the mind out of? Nothing? The idea of creating something out of nothing has never been allowed to any power save Deity. Does it make it out of itself? The brain is material substance, and to admit an immaterial effect from a material cause would belie the law that like pro- duces like." The reader will perceive now that eveiy theoiy and every chemical or molecular change that may occur in the brain have been examined and laid aside, and that the present tack is the only one that holds out the least hope of a rational solution of the problem. The subject will be further elucidated in the next chapter by an elaborate argument from analogy. 26 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER X. ELECTRICITY. The schoolmaster, continuing Lis discourse, brought up, as an analogous example to the mind and brain, one of the most interesting subjects of which natural philosophy treats, and addressing his companion with an earnestness unusual to an octogenarian said: "Electricity is undoubtedly a force in na- ture, yet we never see manifestations of it except when con- trolled by or controlling matter ; and electrical force, like intel- lectual force, can be produced only by the transmutation of a certain quantity of matter. It is as immaterial as mind itself, and bears the same relation to matter that mind does to brain- substance. It is true that very dissimilar combinations of mat- ter can be made to develop the phenomena of electricity, while brain-substance alone is able to develop mind; still, this can be no argument against the analogous relations of the two, when we take into consideration that one is an organized, and the other an unorganized force. We might ask the same questions about electricity and its connection with matter that we asked about mind and its connection with brain-substance, and the same answers would be applicable to both. That electricity occupies space between material bodies is not disputed, and, moreover, it may be concentrated and stored up by machines and used at will, or it may be transferred from one body into another and held, or it may be allowed to dissipate itself again into space. Matter, then, is one thing, and electricity is another thing. Brain-substance is one thing, and mind is another thing. Electrical machines, by the transmutation of a certain quantity of matter, make manifest electricity, which exists independently of the electrical machines. Brain-substance, by the transmuta- tion of a certain quantity of matter, makes manifest mind, which exists independently of brain-substance." At this point the lecturer interrupted the old man by saying: "The course of reasoning you have adopted by your system of exclusion, and your appeals to exceptions or denials, would leave no other conclusion possible except the one you have arrived at ; Electricity. 27 but you are still in a dilemma as to the priority of matter or electricity, of brain-substance or mind." "I understood," replied the teacher, "that we had decided that mind in its individuality or personality is secondary to brain-substance; as the argument advanced by Dr. Draper, to the contrary, led to so many absurdities that you yourself first pointed them out. But, as that was more of a speculation than a rational conclusion, I will endeavor to show why the indi- vidual mind is secondary to brain-substance, and why brain- substance is secondary to mind as a whole." "I am a good listener," observed his companion, "and have good ears — proceed." "In the first place," he continued, "the facts stated by Dr. Flint make it positively certain that there can be no (indi- vidual) mind without brain-substance." The lecturer answered this by quoting Dr. Draper's illustra- tion of the artisan and tool. " 'An accomplished artisan cannot display his powers through an imperfect tool, nor, if the tool should be broken or become useless through impairment, is it any proof that the artisan has ceased to exist ; and so, though we admit that there is a cor- respondence between the development of the mind and the growth of the body, we deny that it follows from that, either that the mind did not pre-exist or that the death of the body implies its annihilation.' " "Dr. Draper has a very nice way of putting things," replied the old man ; "but if each individual mind pre-existed each indi- vidual brain, then each individual mind must either have existed from all eternity, or have come into existence at some indefinite time prior to each individual brain, and in either case the con- clusion would be an absurdity." "Why an absurdity?" asked his companion. "Because, if the mind existed from all eternity, it would be self -existent, and in consequence be subject to no law. It would be conditionless, which we know to be untrue, as every mind is subject to the law of its own surroundings and conditions. If it is made by some power other than itself, and made to be the owner and user of each individual brain, and made prior to that brain, then we have a mind-maker, and that mind-maker 28 The Lantern of Diogenes. either makes mind out of something or creates it out of nothing ; and to admit the power to create at all, is to admit a creator, and that would end this investigation. The individual mind, then, is secondary to the individual brain; hut that brain is secondary to collective mind, or mind as a whole, is proved by the fact that, for an individual mind to be secondary to any individual brain, that individual brain must stand in the rela- tion of cause and effect to its individual mind; and, as brain- substance cannot create or make mind out of nothing, it must have mind as a whole, or collective mind, as a source of supply upon which it can draw, in order to make manifest any indi- vidual mind. The electrical machine has electricity as a whole to draw upon, before it can collect and store up any individual charge of electricity." "You speak of collective mind, or mind as a whole," observed the stout gentleman. "Do I understand you to mean that this collective mind pervades all space, is universal — everywhere ?" "I mean this," said the old teacher, "that mind outside of brain is like time outside of the present moment, like space out- side of your own surroundings — limitless. If mind had not existed before brain, brain never could have made it manifest, unless we allow to brain a creative power. If mind did exist before brain, then to say when it began to exist is equivalent to saying when time began to exist. If mind does or ever did exist outside of brain, then it is not circumscribed — it is infinite." "Even if we grant your position of a universal mind," replied the lecturer, "infinity of mind does not necessarily imply the existence of an infinite being. It may be that this universal mind is latent, and shows no activity until concentrated and individualized by the action of brain-substance." "We know," said the old man, "that electricity is active be- fore it is concentrated by the electrical machine, and if mind pervades the universe outside of brain, and is only active when concentrated, stored up, and made manifest by brain, if all space between material bodies be filled up with inactive mind, and is only drawn upon by the poor little brains of fishes and birds and animals and man, of insects, and the mites of the microscopic world, then we must say that the supply is out of all proportion to the demand ; but if this omnipresent mind thinks, and the evi- Electricity. 29 dence that it does is so great that we cannot doubt it, then we have an infinite intelligence, to say the least of it, and an in- finite intelligence without the existence of 'being' is scarcely conceivable." "Your argument is ingenious," answered the stout gentleman, "but it is not sufficient to nullify the assertion of Colonel Inger- soll. The tack may be in the right direction, but the wind is not strong enough to fill the sails." "Perhaps," replied the old man, "we may be able to find some additional negations, in the doctrine of dysteleology, or pur- poselessness in nature, which, added to this ingenious tack, may fill the sails enough to keep the ship moving." 30 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTEE XI. DESIGN. The schoolmaster continued tlie conversation thus: "The argument of design has suffered more at the hands of its friends than of its enemies. The former have made it a mass of contradiction by denying much of its essence, while the latter simply ignore it. They have likewise made Jehovah the butt of ridicule by denying him many of his attributes, and investing him with too much of human virtue. He has become a crowned demigod upon the altars of superstition and fear, and no God to the intellect of man. What we are seeking here is an un- known quantity. If we find that quantity to contain mercy, all right. If we find it sodden with envy, spite and malice, it mat- ters not. If we find in it all the elements of human character, shall we be chagrined? Suppose we find the God of the Bible, shall Colonel Ingersoll be imhappy? or, if we find an 'infinite vacuum,' shall he rejoice?" "Colonel Ingersoll would rejoice to find the truth," observed the stout gentleman. "Then let's seek the truth with such means as we have," said the teacher, and continuing his discourse, said: "The doctrine of dysteleology, or purposelessness in nature, offers a wide scope to the discerning powers, and must in a reasonable measure account for facts, or take its place with design as ordinarily presented, and the infinite goodness of Jehovah. As we have said before, one fact impinging upon any theory will undo the theory and make it untenable. Haeckel, in his 'Evolution of Man,' speaking of the rudimentary organs of animals, says : 'They are among the most interesting phenomena \vith which comparative anatomy acquaints us, because they most forcibly refute the customary teleological philosophy of the schools. They must be regarded as parts which in the course of many generations have gradually been disused and drawn from active service. Owing to disuse and consequent loss of function, the organs gradually waste away, and finally entirely disappear. Hence, they are of the greatest philosophical importance; they clearly prove that the mechanical conception of organisms is Design. 31 alone correct.' This 'mechanical conception of organisms' makes sexual attraction dependent upon the 'elective affinity of two differing cells — the sperm-cell and the egg-cell/ "The words of Haeckel are these: 'The coalescence of two cells is everywhere the single, original impelling force. At first, the two united cells may have been entirely alike. Soon, how- ever, by natural selection, a contrast must have arisen between them. One cell became a female egg-cell, the other, a male seed or sperm-cell.' Was ever assumption more gratuitous? Did ecclesiastical bigotry ever formulate a more dogmatic conclu- sion? And yet the mechanical theory of the universe is built upon just such foundations. After paying a passionate tribute to love as the 'source of the most splendid creations of art, and reverencing it as the most powerful factor in human civiliza- tion,' he says : 'So wonderful is love, and so immeasurably important is its influence on mental life, on the most varied functions of the medullary tube, that in this point more than any other, "supernatural" causation seems to mock every natu- ral explanation. A theory which is founded only upon a "must," ought not to complain of a similar theory, because it sets out with the "Supernatural," and seems to mock at the explanations of its degenerate offspring, however much it may claim to be natural.' " "I think," replied the lecturer, "that you do Professor Haeckel an injustice, by quoting only a part of what he has said on this subject. A reading of his book may place a different construc- tion upon the doctrine of purposelessness versus design in na- ture. Having the book in my traveling bag, with your permis- sion, I will read that portion which bears directly upon this theory." And taking from his satchel the first volume of the "Evolu- tion of Man," he read on page 109, from the article "Dysteleol- ogy," these words : "Almost every organism, with the exception of the lowest and most imperfect, and especially every highly developed vegetable or animal body, man as well as others, possesses one or more structures which are useless to its organism, valueless for its life-purposes, worthless for its functions. Thus all of us have in our bodies various muscles which we never use ; for example. 32 The Lantern of Diogenes. the muscles in the external ear and the parts immediately sur- rounding it. These outer and inner ear muscles are of great use to most animals, especially such as have the power of erec1>- ing the ears, because the form and position of the ear may thus be materially' altered, in order to take in the various waves of sound in the best possible manner. In man, however, and in other animals not possessing the power of pricking up the ears, the muscles, though present, are useless. xVs our ancestors long ago discontinued to make use of them, we have lost the power of moving them. Again, there is in the inner corner of our eye a small crescent-shaped or semi-lunar fold of skin, the last rem- nant of a third inner eyelid, the so-called nictitating membrane. In our primitive relatives, the sharks, and in many other verte- brates, this membrane is highly developed, and of great use to the eye, but with us it is abortive and entirely useless. On the intestinal canal we have an appendage which is not only use- less, but may become very injurious, the so-called vermiform appendage of the caecum. This little appendage of the intestine not infrequently causes fatal disease. If in the process of diges- tion, by an unlucky accident, a cherry-stone or some other hard body is pressed into its narrow passage, a violent inflammation ensues, which usually causes death. The vermiform appendage is not of the slightest use in our organism ; it is the last and dangerous remnant of an organ which was much larger in our vegetarian ancestors, and was of great use to them in digestion, as it is still in many herbivorous animals, such as apes and rodents, in which it is of considerable size and of great physio- logical importance. "Other similar rudimentary organs exist in us as in all higher animals, in different parts of the body. They are among the most interesting phenomena with which comparative anatomy acquaints us : firstly, because they afford the most obvious proof of the theory of descent ; and, secondly, because they most forci- bly refute the customary teleological philosophy of the schools. The doctrine of descent renders the explanation of these remark- able phenomena very simple. They must be regarded as parts which in the course of many generations have gradually been disused and withdrawn from active service. Owing to disuse and consequent loss of function, the organs gradually waste Design. 33 away, and finally entirely disappear. The existence of inidi- mentary organs admits of no other explanation. Hence, they are of the greatest philosophical importance; they clearly prove that the mechanical or monistic conception of the nature of organisms is alone correct, and that the prevailing teleological or dualistic method of accounting for them is entirely false. The very ancient fahle of the all-wise plan according to which 'the Creator's hand has ordained all things with wisdom and understanding,' the empty phrase about the purposive 'plan of structure' of organisms, is in this way completely disproved. Stronger arguments can hardly be furnished against the cus- tomary teleology or doctrine of design, than the fact that all more highly developed organisms possess such rudimentary or- gans." "I am glad," replied the ancient schoolmaster, "that you hap- pened to have the book, for the whole extract places the doctrine in a more awkward position than did the few lines I chanced to remember. "A doctrine which so easily accounts for these rudimentary organs surely ought to account, with equal facility, for organs and functions which still remain in active use and operation. The human eye, if I remember correctly, occupies ten pages in the 'Evolution of Man.' This is the way he commences his de- scription : 'The history of the development of the eye is equally remarkable and instructive. For although the eye, owing to its exquisite optical arrangement and wonderful structure, is one of the most complex and most nicely adapted organs, yet it develops, without a preconceived design, from a very simple rudiment in the outer skin covering.' While he can so readily account for 'the last remnant of a third inner eyelid, the so- called nictitating membrane,' he does not once mention a little contrivance in the appendages to the eyeball by which the move- ment called rotation is effected. We can but admire the silence of Professor Haeckel on one of the most important systems of the animal body in his attempt to prove that man is the blood- relative of apes and worms. In these two exhaustive volumes of over nine hundred pages, he devotes ten lines to the develop- ment of the muscular system, yet this system gives form and 3 34 The Lantern of Diogenes. elasticity, beauty and strength to the body, and is a maze of mechanical principles subservient to beauty and use. "In the eye socket is a little fusifonu muscle, whose use it is to rotate the eyeball, and to do this, it must pull the globe in another direction from itself. This is accomplished by the muscle passing over a pulley on the same principle of the block and tackle. How did it get over the pulley? Is this fact a result of the terrible and ceaseless 'struggle for existence' ? Did this little muscle have such a craving desire for existence, that it projected itself over the pulley, and submitted to be doubled up on itself, for the sake of being there ; or did the eye have such a longing for being rolled about, that it built up this muscle, and hung this tendon over the pulley, because there was no other room in the orbit for it? Explain this muscle, and I yield at once to the doctrine of purposelessness." "Colonel Ingersoll," replied the lecturer, "in his second letter to Dr. Field, answered the argument of design in these words: 'You see what you call evidences of intelligence in the universe, and you draw the conclusion that there must be an infinite intelligence. Your conclusion is far wider than your premise. It is illogical to say, because of the existence of this earth, and of what you can see in and about it, that there must be an infi- nite intelligence. You do not know that even the creation of this world, and of all planets discovered, required an infinite power or infinite Avisdom. I admit that it is impossible for me to look at a watch and draw the inference that there was no design in its construction, or that it only happened. I could not regard it as a product of some freak of nature, neither could I imagine that its various parts were brought together and set in motion by chance. I am not a believer in chance. But there is a vast difference between what a man has made, and the ma- terials of which he has constructed the things he has made. You find a watch, and you say that it exhibits or shows design. You insist that it is so wonderful it must have had a designer; in other words, that it is too wonderful not to have been con- structed. You then find the watchmaker; and you say with regard to him, that he, too, must have had a designer, for he is more wonderful than the watch. In imagination you go from the watchmaker to the being you call God; and you say he de- Design. 35 signed the watchmaker, but he himself was not designed, be- cause he is too wonderful to have been designed. " 'And, yet, in the case of the watch and the watchmaker, it was the wonder that suggested design, while in the case of the maker of the watchmaker, the wonder denied a designer. Do you not see that this argument devours itself V " "Colonel Ingersoll was then contending with a preacher," said the old man, "and he was combating an assumption. Dr. Field assumed God. In this case nothing has been assumed ; but from one single fact, which you dare not deny, an infinite intelligence has been demonstrated by reasoning which is incontrovertible. If this infinite intelligence is the same which Dr. Field assumed, then instead of Dr. Field's argument devouring itself, your own has become a felo-de-se." 36 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER XII. HYBRIDS AND PHYSIOLOGICAL PAIN. The old gentleman, continuing his argument, said : "It is a well-known fact that there is a class of animals in the world known as hybrids. These animals are generally produced by the intervention of man; but we cannot deny that they are a product of nature, and that they may, and do, occasionally, come about without any interference on the part of man. Every close observer must have noticed the almost insatiable eroticism of these animals. The genital organs in both sexes are perfect with one exception — that of function; they are barren.* The common mule is a type of this class, and is bred for man's ben- efit alone. It is one of the most erotic of animals. The male is without spei-m-cells, the female has no egg-cells. The true function of the genital organs has never been exercised. The secondaiy function, that of copulation, has been exercised so rarely that it amounts to 'disuse,' yet these organs have neither become atrophied nor rudimentary." "It seems- to me," replied the stout gentleman, "that it is straining a point to bring hybrids into the controversy. These animals are an exception to the general rule. For their pro- duction it requires an amalgamation of two distinct species, and if reproduction was possible to this class, the result could not be a hybrid, but another distinct species. 'Disuse' can have nothing to do with any of the organs in the hybrid body, as each individual of this class stands in the same cognate position with the first as with the last that might come upon the earth. Evolution is at a standstill with regard to hybrids. They are an exception to the law." "I am glad to see," remarked the old gentleman, "that your eyes are beginning to open. There is more, I dare say, on this line, than you have thought of. Another fact connected with the animal body is worthy of study — the pains of parturition. "For all other pains to which the animal economy is subject, there is an adequate cause, a justifiable and pathological reason. *The "Mechanical Conception of Organisms" makes sexual attraction dependent upon the "elective affinity of two differing cells, the sperm-cell and the egg-cell." Hi^brids and Physiological Pain. 37 For this pain science is a sealed book, physiology is dumb, and pathology has no answer. According to all analogy, the partu- rient uterus ought to contract Avithout pain. The heart, stom- ach, bladder, and other hollow muscles cause no pain either in distention or contraction; then wherefore the womb? I£ preg- nancy be a pathological condition, then law is at fault. If according to nature, wherefore the pain? No law can be for- mulated from one isolated fact, neither can any known law hang the tendon of a muscle over a pulley. The barrenness of hybrids is the strongest kind of proof against the transmutation of species, and their salacious propensities in connection with their inability to procreate would place them outside the limits of law." "If," obseiwed the lecturer, "you place them outside the limits of law, they would become outlaws." "And truly so," replied the teacher. "ISTature has outlaws as well as society. The budding of fruit-trees is a species of out^ lawry which nature will not permit for many generations in succession. After a while it becomes impossible to make the bud live. There is not a race of mulattoes on the face of the earth. They will go back, and all be white or all negroes, or all die out. And so with improved stock. They revert to their original place as soon as the hand of man is withdrawn." "Would you place physiological pain in the same category?" asked the lecturer. "There is no other place to put it," replied the teacher. "Physiological pain is an anomaly in nature, still it cannot be called a freak, for a regular recurrence of any fact will destroy the idea of supeiwenient causes." "I infer," said the lecturer, "from your mode of reasoning, that you regard physiological pain, hybrids, and the various improvements upon natural products, together with the results of the destructive efforts of man, as being extrinsic to natural processes, and, as such, should be placed outside of natural law." "You seem to have the idea," said the old man, "but I fear you may draw inferences which would not be justified by the introspection. !N^ature cannot do an unnatural thing, neither can man. We speak of man's work as being artificial only as 38 The Lantern of Diogenes. a result whicli nature would not and could not accomplisli with- out individual intelligences. It cannot be unnatural, because every product of an individual intelligence (such as a shoe or a hat, for instance) is artificial in the sense that, for its accom- plishment, the individual intelligence has modified and utilized the means placed at its command by the universal intelligence, and in this sense alone can it be called unnatural. Likewise, pain produced by the throes of a parturient uterus, together with hybrid products, while they are perfectly natural, must be regarded as bearing the same relation to the regular current of natural events which the artificial products of man sustain to natural law; and, there being nothing analogous in nature to these special and arbitrary effects, we are obliged to regard them as the ipse dixit of that infinite intelligence of which the mind of man is an infinitesimal reflection." "It appears, then," said the lecturer, "that all your array of logical sequences has only brought you at last to the irrational assumption of the average theologian, and that Dr. Field's Presbyterian God is the unknown quantity which you have sought with so much labor." "The answer we may find," replied the teacher, "in the solu- tion of any problem does not and cannot depend upon our likes or dislikes. To me, individually, it is a matter of perfect indif- ference whether God, devil, heaven, hell, or immortality be fact or fiction. I would not change it from what it is if I had the power; but it being a fact that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, I am glad to know it. So, if God is, I wish to know it ; if hell be a fact, I Avish to know that. I have no feeling in the matter. All I can do is to learn the truth according to the lights before me." At this speech, the stout gentleman made a spasmodic and involuntary effort to flirt the rudimentary, nictitating mem- brane of his "primitive ancestors" over the visual organ, as if to remove a mote or to diagnose the disease nyctalopia, but find- ing the effort useless, and the impliciti morbi more in the brain than in the eye, he gazed earnestly at this dried-up specimen of aged humanity, and asked in tones of astonishment: "What kind of man are you? I have been endeavoring for two hours to get at what you believe, and I am more at a loss Hi^brids and Physiological Pain. 39 than ever. You couimit yourself to uothing. Even the deduc- tions of your own strange mode of reasoning are not affirmed. You start with what you call the fact of the human mind, and reason out in your oyn\ way another fact, which you call an infinite intelligence. You seem to argue that the intelligence of man is nothing but an accumulation of a bit of this infinite intelligence in the brain of each individual, to perpetrate petty acts for good and evil, so long as it is used by or uses the brain with Avhich it is intimately connected. This would make a theology with which I am unacquainted," In reply, the old man said : "When you set out with premises which are true, axiomatic, self-evident, and reason logically, the end of your inquiry is truth. The result should neither be anticipated nor imagined, but accepted when found, whether we like or dislike it. Hating a fact cannot make it false, neither can love for an error make it true. "A broader view of this infinite intelligence might enable you to understand the apparent contradictions in the Jewish and Christian theologies. These apparent discrepancies, garbled by sophism and rhapsody, present to the murky eye of ignorance a tangled skein of mysticism, and enable such men as Mr. Inger- soll to pass the juggler's pieces of their scoffing pyrrhonism as true coin." "It is with difficulty," said the lecturer, "that I get your ideas from your language. What do you mean by 'o. broader view of this infinite intelligence' ?" "The word 'infinite' ought to give you a hint as to what I mean. Infinite intelligence implies a knowledge of all igno- rance, all error, all mistake. It is not confined to the good, the beautiful, and the true. It takes in the universe, with its pleas- ures and its pains, its beauties and its deformities. As man can impart his knowledge to his fellow-man without diminish- ing his own, so the infinite intelligence can, without detracting from itself, supply all the brains in the universe. But, as a part can never equal the whole, to say, 'An infinite God has no excuse for leaving his children in doubt and darkness,' is a travesty upon the question, 'Why should the infinite ask any- thing from the finite?'* Colonel Ingersoll says: 'The sentence, ♦"Colonel Ingersoll to Mr. Gladstone," page 620. 40 The Lantern of Diogenes. "There is a God," could have been imprinted on every blade of grass, on every leaf, on every star.'* The same, with equal propriety, might be said of this sentence: 'The three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles.' Does everybody in the world know this mathematical tnith? Suppose Colonel In- gersoll's mind was so constructed that it would be impossible for him to comprehend the demonstration of this problem, and then suppose he was to say, 'In the nature of things there can be no evidence of the truth of the proposition that "the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles" ' : would this have any effect upon the truth of the proposition? Infinite intelligence implies more than the words import. To condition in word or thought, in act or attribute, is to detract from in- finity; therefore, being is as much of a necessar^'^ attribute of infinite intelligence as omniscience or omnipresence. This con- clusion may appear at first sight to be a non sequitur; but, reasoning from analogy, we can but place it in the catalogue of syllogisms. Our perceptions only give us ideas of intelli- gence connected with, or emanating from, human beings; and to conceive of an infinite intelligence without the attribute of being, is as impossible as to conceive of an individual intelli- gence apart from a human being." "I would infer," said the lecturer, "from what you have already said, that you do not acknowledge the Presbyterian God of Dr. Field, yet you have worked up in your own mind an infinite being. I am at a loss to understand your conception of this being. Is he the God of the Jew, Christian or Moham- medan? Who is he? What is he? What is his character?" "My argmnent," said the teacher, "has been, all the way through this discussion, to nullify the 'assertion' of Colonel In- gersoll, that 'there can be no evidence of the existence of an infinite being.' If the evidence adduced is of any value; if I have been able to show that the theory of development which involves the transmutation of species, the doctrine of purpose- lessness, etc., is based upon assumed postulates, and by pure reason to demonstrate that the human mind would be an impos- sibility from a physical or mechanical conception of organ- isms — then we surely have arrived at God : not the God of the ♦"Letter to Dr. Field," page 40. Hi^brids and Physiological Pain. 41 Presbyterians, for I tlioroughly agree Avith Colonel IngersoU that tlieir description of God more nearly resembles an 'infinite vacuimi' ; not the God of any church or creed : but the God who says, 'I foiTU the light and create darkness; I make peace and create evil'; the God who said to the woman, *In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children'; that God of whom Job said, 'He breaketh me with a tempest, and multiplieth my wounds with- out cause'; the same God who hated Esau and loved Jacob be- fore they were yet born; he who put wool upon the negro's head, and straight hair upon the white man's; who gave the mule to man for a beast of burden, and virtually said, 'So far shalt thou go, and no farther' ; he who hung the tendon of the pathetic muscle over a pulley; who changed the two coalescent primordial cells, one into male and the other into female; the same God who capacitated the soul of Colonel IngersoU for such emotional states as the following words would imply : '* 'I have sometimes wished that there were words of pure hatred out of which I might construct sentences like snakes ; out of which I might construct sentences with mouths fanged, that had forked tongues; out of which I might construct sen- tences that writhed and hissed: then I could give my opinion of the rebels during the great struggle for the preservation of this Nation.'* The same God whom Colonel IngersoU so cor- dially hates, and whose existence is affected by this hatred about as much as the existence of rheumatism is affected by his hatred for that." ♦Speeches, Wit, Wisdom, and Eloquence. 42 The Lantern of Diogenes. PART II. "he is uncommonly powerful in his own line, but it is not the line of a first-rate man." In all tlie catalogue of human frailties, no trait is more cen- surable, more justly deserving of pity and contempt, than the overweening egotism of oracular wisdom. Poet and philosopher have combined with ridicule and blame, to expunge this nauseous dilettanteism from the list of human foibles. Pharisaical notions of superior wisdom and superior virtue have met with rebuif at the high court of the manly intelligence. ITothing but the most brazen impudence, or the petrified feel- ing of utter indifference, or the unhallowed desire for notoriety mingled with criminal ignorance, can induce any one to pander to the baser passions of mankind in an attempt to subvert truth, and to mock at the sacred beliefs of man. The rottenness of priestcraft has no more to do with religious truth than political jobbery has to do with statecraft. Many a foul stream flows from a crystal fountain, and to condemn the source on account of the mingling of sewage and garbage is to condemn the siuishine because it falls upon a dung heap. The scientific artisan builds a burglar-proof safe. The edu- cated burglar devises means to get into it. Knowledge is the handmaid of the bad as well as of the good. The oxyhydrogen blowpipe in the hands of a thief Avill silently bum a hole through steel as surely as it will do the same work for the chemist. Dynamite will exert the same force for the criminal that it does for the engineer or the miner. As the criminal studies science, so the sophist studies art. Ornate and striking sentences, well-rounded periods, poetical effusions, and oratorical grandiloquence capture the senses and inflame the passions. Logic is prosaic and dull ; rhetoric is drunk in with avidity while it moves to tears or excites to madness. The picture of a dying Saviour has carried more penitents to the mourner's bench than all the books on polemical divinity. "Uncommonly Powerful in His Line." 43 Tlie slave-mother deprived of her babe has stirred up the bitterest feelings iu Colonel Ingersoll's soul and caused him to rail at Jehovah. He has a contempt for the Christian penitent, while the slave- master has a contempt for him. Is reason the arbiter in either case, or does Colonel Ingersoll possess all and the other two none? Is truth a reality, or is it a weather-cock, to be bandied about by the opinions of men ? Theologians and lay-Christians have fought infidelity with the Bible. It is like fighting the devil with snow-balls ! Satan pretends to be a great reasoner, a profound logician. Daniel De Foe, in writing his history, proved him to be a fool. He is the same fool to-day that he has ever been. He is more igno- rant than criminal. His theories are confuted by well-known facts. His sayings, tested by logic, are as "sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal." Before the end of the discussion in the last chapter, the train had stopped at a supply station, and in the very midst of the controversy, several gentlemen entered the car, and, observing the animated debate going on between the two passengers, natu- rally seated themselves in close proximity to the disputants. Some of these gentlemen knew the younger man, and had heard him lecture on his favorite subject. They were familiar also with the writings of Colonel Ingersoll, and observing the atti- tude of profound earnestness with which the octogenarian de- ported himself, together with his shriveled and almost insignifi- cant appearance, they soon became an audience of eager listen- ers, while the old teacher, animated still more by their attention, seemed to forget that he was a long way from home, that he was traveling at the rate of forty miles an hour, over a country he had never seen before, and that he was talking before strangers to whom he was utterly unknown, and whom he would likely never see again. He seemed to feel that he was in his native pine forest in the sand-hills of Carolina, seated behind his desk in the little log cabin where he had taught class after class for the past half- century, and that he was addressing a score or more of brawny young brains on the principles of logic. 44 The Lantern of Diogenes. His favorite mode of teaching for many years had been by didactic lectures, and his pupils were made up from the better class of thinkers, many of whom had been to college. As age encroached upon his manhood, and diminished his powers of bodily endurance, he had given up much of the drudg- ery of the schoolroom, and instead of text-book recitations, he taught principles by analyzing the current thought of the day, thus presenting information in its most attractive form. After this manner he proceeded to analyze the philosophy, or, as he called it, the sophistry, of Colonel Ingersoll, and ad- dressing himself to the new additions, as well as to his first com- panion, he said: "In his first reply to Dr. Field, the Colonel says 'Reason is the supreme and final test. If God has made a revelation to man, it must have been addressed to his reason. There is no other faculty that could even decipher the address. Extinguish that and naught remains.' "Here we can cordially shake hands with the great iconoclast, yet I know of no one who makes more pathetic appeals to the feelings and passions. "With his thunder and invective, what a famous preacher he would have made! "He seems to think that Dr. Field was trying to cozen him mth the 'fatherly' advice to soften his colors. Dr. Field was only telling him the truth, when he told him that his words would be more weighty if not so strong. "Voltaire, Rousseau, Paine and Hume wrote with persuasive pens. Gregg wetted the pages of his 'Creed of Christendom' with bitter tears, and the passionless and soulless philosophy of materialism never deals in invective. "The continuous diatribes flowing like a stream of mephitic vapor from the mouth and pen of this modern apostle of ration- alism, hover over the thoughtless multitude, and sway them to and fro with their Jack-o'-lanteni lights, causing hurrahs for the moment, and departing like the specter of the Brocken without leaving a visible track. "Sam Jones, or any other popular revivalist with a similar use of language and the same personal magnetism, can at any moment turn the same tide in his direction with a wave of his wand. ''Uncommonly Powerful in His Line." 45 "It is the forte of the revivalist to coax the language for a picture ; a horrid and gloomy portrait of hell — a weapon with which he wounds the softest chords of the mother's heart, and rends the tenderest sympathies of innocent childhood. "He succeeds in making miserable for a short time his wife and his baby, his mother and his sister, and thinks he has done God's sen^ice. He talks about the soul as though he had a sample in his pocket, and its destiny as if power had been dele- gated to him for its disposal. Should the philosopher imitate the priest? "And more; Colonel Ingersoll ought to remember this scien- tific fact, that nothing is lost; that the 'correlation and con- seiwation' of energy is an admitted truth, that force is inde- structible and eternal. "He might also study with advantage the teachings of dy- namical physiology, and learn that within the brain there is a registering ganglion which infallibly records every imprint re- ceived through the senses. "Whether we regard the brain as the instrument of the mind, or the mind as the product of brain action, the case is the same. How bad then it is to have error stamped upon a scroll that is incapable of being filled — a scroll that forever retains the im- prints it receives ! "This registering power of mind keeps an accurate account of all our thoughts, and while very few of them are remembered, the whole scroll is so carefully preserved that it may not inaptly be compared to a book. " 'And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God ; and the books were opened, and another book was opened, which is the book of life, and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.' "What a theme for the teachers of revelation if they would give their lessons from a scientific standpoint, instead of the hideous object-lessons portrayed in Dante's 'Inferno' and some modern illustrated Bibles. "With these facts before bim, can Colonel Ingersoll exclaim with Rosseau: 'When the last trumpet shall sound, I will pre- 46 The Lantern of Diogenes. sent myself before the sovereign judge with his book in my hand, and loudly proclaim, thus have I acted ; these were my thoughts ; such was I'?* "A worshiper of the goddess of Eeason should be consistent, at any rate, for when inconsistency walks in, reason leaves the house without an adieu. "As 'the tree is known by his fruit,' so the philosopher is judged by his maxims. Euclid lived in the fifth century B. C. His axioms have stood the test of criticism more than two thousand years. The mathematical sciences have been built upon his sayings. " 'If a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand.' Colonel Ingersoll has built a huge structure which he has decorated with ornamental scrolls, and painted with all the colors of the rainbow. It glitters in the moonlight. Beautiful coruscations flash like the wintry aurora around its dome. Upon the highest pinnacle he has placed a statue of Minerva. At the gilded portals may be read in shining letters, 'Templum Sapientiw.'-f In moking silence the statue echoes back, 'Satis eloquentiw, sapientue parvum.''^ "Minerva is impatient upon her throne, and desires to abdi- cate. The house is divided against itself. The foundation is sand, and the corner-stone, what? The axioms of Colonel In- gersoll. "Axiom first. 'That which happens must happen.' Axiom second. 'That which must be has the right to be.' "The Colonel is to be admired for his short, crisp way of say- ing things. It leaves no room for misunderstandings. He is to be admired for the advice he gave to Dr. Field, when he said :§ 'Do not, I pray you, deal in splendid generalities. Be explicit.' He is to be admired the more for following his own advice — for being explicit. A syllogism is the most beautiful thing ever presented to a reasoning mind. " 'That which happens must happen.' "The thumb-screw happened, therefore, the thumb-screw must have happened. " 'That which must be has the right to be.' *"Confessions." t"Teraple of wisdom." t"Much eloquence, but little wisdom." §"A Reply to the Rev. Henry M. Field," pages 484-5. "Uncommonli^ Powerful in His Line.'' 47 "The thumb-screw must have been, therefore it had the right to be. "Is Colonel Ingersoll fighting for the right ? " 'That which happens must happen.' "ISTegro slavery happened, therefore negro slavery must have happened. " 'That which must be has the right to be.' "JSTegro slavery must have been, therefore negro slavery had the right to be. "Why did Colonel Ingersoll fight against negro slavery? " 'That which happens must happen.' "It happened that Guiteau killed Garfield, therefore the kill- ing of Garfield must have happened. " 'That which must be has the right to be.' "The killing of Garfield must have been, therefore it was right for him. to be killed. "Did the United States Government think so? "Axiom third.* 'To exercise a right yourself which you deny to me is simply the act of a tyrant.' "Is the United States Government a tyrant? In killing Guiteau, did it not exercise a right which it denied to him? What would syllogistic reasoning do with the third axiom in this case ? Is it possible that this champion of liberty and free- dom should uphold the act of a tyrant ? "He boldly says that,"!- 'Society has the right to protect itself by imprisoning those who prey upon its interests,' and 'it may have the right to destroy the life of one dangerous to the com- munity.' "How did it come by such rights? By the consent of all its citizens ? "Nay, my good friends, the right to take life is the right of might. "Why should Colonel Ingersoll love human law and hate God's law? They both kill, they both oppress; they ai'e both formulated upon the one principle — power. Is he consistent? Is he logical, or is he like 'Frankenstein' ? *"A Reply to the Rev. Henry M. Field," page 477. f'Letter to Dr. Field," page 44. 48 The Lantern of Diogenes. "Has he taken a peep into the mirror of his own soul, recoiled in horror, and taken vengeance against his Maker? "Did he include himself in this sentence:* 'Most men are provincial, narrow, one-sided, only partially developed' ? Is the 'little clearing' around his brain just large enough to practice law in, and the remainder of the farm a jungle of snakes and wild beasts? Do the poisonous serpents of hatred lie coiled in the brambles, sending out a chorus of hisses with the wild beasts of sophistry? "In all candor now, which causes his following, his logic or his rhetoric? "Axiom fourth.* 'Neither in the interest of truth, nor for the benefit of man, is it necessary to assert what we do not know.' "How about axiom second ? Does he know- it was right for the thumb-screw to be? Does he know it was right for Guiteau to kill Garfield? Does he not see that reason, wherever it sits 'croA\T]ed monarch' of his brain, will compel that man to place the mistakes, the errors, the world of tears and regrets in which poor, frail humanity is engulfed on the side of right ? Does he not see that he has done away with all wrong — that he has made a millennium on earth, or is he in accord with this philosopher? Whatever is, is right, says Pope — So said a sturdy thief; But when his fate required a rope. He varied his belief. "What! will not now your rule hold good?" The executioner cried : "Good rules," he said, "are understood By being well applied." "I would like to know if Colonel Ingersoll considers himself a civilized man. Does reason sit crowned monarch of his brain ? Are his passions his servants ? Is he very certain that Jehovah is a myth? Is he positive that axiom second is a truth? Fi- nally, and lastly (as the old-time preacher would say), why is it that he hates the God of Moses with such malignant hatred? Why is it that he expresses regret at the poverty of language — *"Letter to Dr. Field," page 46. "Uncommonip Powerful in His Line." 49 at its paucity of objurgatory expressions, of its deficiency in vocabulary to furnish words to express his loathing of this 'mon- ster' — this 'Almighty Friend' of Dr. Field? "Would not the old Hindoo prayer, with one word added, be a suitable prayer for many of us? "'Have mercy, God, upon' (me) 'the vicious; thou hast already had mercy upon the just by making them just.' "Crimination and recrimination in any discussion are always oifensive to polite ears, but the doctrine of nonresistance, in the history of its evolution, and its struggle for existence, has never yet reached the highest pinnacle either of man's heart or head; so, to elucidate facts, strong language is at times indis- pensable. "Is not the fact of Colonel Ingersoll's denying God positive evidence that he has laid aside his reason ? Are not these words, taken from his reply to Mr. Black, negative evidence of the same thing? " ']^ever for an instant did I suppose that any respectable American citizen could be found willing at this day to defend the institution of slavery.' "Take axioms first and second in connection with this slavery question, and by syllogistic reasoning see if Isaac Taylor missed it much when he said : " 'The infatuations of the sensual and frivolous part of man- kind are amazing; but the infatuations of the learned and sophistical are incomparably more so.' "If slavery exist-ed by a law of necessity, and Colonel Inger- soll opposed it, and still denounces it as a crime, whether it exists in 'world, star, heaven or hell' ; and by his ov^i testimony it can be proved by the best and most accurate mode of reason- ing known to man — ^by reasoning that is equivalent to a math- ematical demonstration — that it had the right to he; then, I say. Colonel Ingersoll ought to recant, and ask pardon of his fellowmen for practicing this unwarrantable imposition upon them for so many years. "If he is an honest man, he will do it. "These are his own words : 'That which happens must hap- pen.' 'That which must be has the right to be.' These sen- tences are disconnected from all others. They may be found 4 50 The Lantern of Diogenes. in the November number of this Review (holding up the book) — one on page 499, third and fourth lines from the bottom, and the other on page 476, second line from the bottom. "They admit of no interpretation. They mean just what they say. They are aphorisms which he has set up for the guidance of mankind. They include every event, every occur- rence, evei*y incident, every phenomenon, which have taken place since the world began ; and, what is worse, they make right of it all. They do away with all wrong. They abolish evil, and make God a liar. They stultify the human intellect, and make the thumbscrew one of the mainsprings of equity. They place human slavery and human freedom in the scales of justice and make the beam poise. They make Anubis a justi- fied god in the Temple of Isis, and the debauchment of the chaste Paulina a virtue. They make wars, pestilence, famine, widows and orphans, beggary, and 'man's inhumanity to man,' 'glad tidings of great joy.' "They make a boomerang of these words : " 'Slavery includes all other crimes. It is the joint product of the kidnapper, pirate, thief, murderer, and hypocrite. It de- grades labor and cornipts leisure. To lacerate the naked back, to sell wives, to steal babes, to breed bloodhounds, to debauch your o\^m soul — this is slavery. This is what Jehovah "author- ized in Judea." This is what Mr. Black believes in still.'* And, mirahile dictu, this is what Colonel Ingersoll says had a ngkt to he. O Consistency, thou art indeed a jewel, but im- bedded still in the head of a toad ! "Suppose that Colonel Ingersoll should say, 'A straight line is not the shortest distance between tvv^o points — a crooked line or a curved one is shorter than a straight line' ; and suppose he should then call to his assistance all the adjectives in the English language, and import ail the slang phrases and objur- gations of all the savage dialects on the globe, and hurl them against the originators of the mathematical sciences; and then suppose that he should go over to the great fish market of Lon- don, and gather up all the billingsgate of that Alsatian den, and electroplate and gild it, and sugar-coat it, and try to force it do-wn the throats of the American people — do you suppose *"Reply to Mr. Black," page 485. "Uncommonly Powerful in His Line." 51 tliey would swallow it? And do you suppose tliat his frantic appeals would disturb the equipoise of the great principles of mathematics ? "With modest diffidence we would suggest that he study the principles of logic more, and Roget's Thesaurus less. "Axiom fifth. 'Everything is right that tends to the happi- ness of mankind, and everything is wrong that increases the sum of human misery.'* "The Colonel answers questions readily that the wisest and best have hesitated over. Pilate on one occasion asked a Divine person, 'What is truth?' He received no answer, unless the rebiike of silence was an answer. "The above answer to the questions, 'What is right, and what is wrong?' would seem plausible, and would raise no objection in the mind of the average man ; neither would an affirmative answer to the question, 'Is the Golden Rule perfect?' surprise the majority of people. "Remember that no assertion can be the whole truth and nothing but the truth, if a single fact in the whole universe impinges upon that assertion. Colonel Ingersoll himself says: 'There is a continual effort in the mind of man to find the har- mony that he knows must exist between all known facts.'-j- Such a picture as this has been seen in a civilized household in mod- ern times : "A woman of moderate mental endowments has been joined in the holy bonds of mati'imony (one of Colonel Ingersoll's shrines of worship) to a man of a low order of intelligence, much lower than hers; yet he is kind, humane, loving. To the extent of his ability he provides for his family. He loves his wife and children, and his neighbors say of him, 'He is a clever fellow, but he has very little sense.' His journey through life is beset with difficulties which require brains to combat them. Being deficient in this respect, the difficulties surround and close in upon him. He becomes involved financially, and his children grow up a burden, because of their mental insufficiency. His property is under mortgage; but his friends are staunch, and wait patiently, because he is honest, because he is indus- trious, because he is good. His family is large. His half- *"Divided Household of Faith." t"Reply to Mr. Black," page 505. 52 The Lantern of Diogenes. wittecl children are stout and strong. They have good appe- tites. They work imder their father's directions. They labor hard and willingly. "They are good beasts of burden. But the result of all their toil, all their sweat, all their pains is insufficient to raise the mortgage, to cancel the debt, to provide for their daily wants. The pinch of poverty is being felt in that family. The father's brow is clouded, and he is beginning to doubt the justice of God. The mother's hands are horny with toil, and her face haggard with anxiety. The children, with one exception, are unable to appreciate the situation. They are becoming dissatisfied and threaten to leave. They can see no good in unremitting and unremunerative labor. Despair is hovering over that house- hold, and, but for an episode of previous years, would sit down with that family and stay. "When the mother was younger, and her animal spirits higher, she formed the acquaintance of a man whose intellect was keen, whose eye was bright, and whose vivacity of manner was captivating. In an evil moment a liaison was formed, and her exceptional child came into the world with a keen eye, a bright intellect, and a handsome face. " 'Nature's unbounded sou, lie stands alone, His heart unbiased, and his mind his own. No sickly fruit of faint compliance he; He ! stamped in nature's mint with ecstasy ! He lives to build, not boast, a generous race; No tenth transmitter of a foolish face.' "This boy takes in the situation. As mind has power over matter, he arranges with his father and his brothers. Suc- cess crowns his efforts, and the household is blessed. His mother's face puts on a smile, and she is the only one in the wide world who knows why. "Was her faux jms a right action because good resulted from it? "Here is another picture that may be seen constantly on the easel the world over : "A young woman of social standing, education, morality, and beauty enters the same holy bonds of wedlock with her equal in "Uncommonli^ Powerful in His Line.'' 53 all respects. The marriage-bells peal with joy, and luanj friends sniilo and congratulate. This occasion is one of pride, and the whole Avorld recognizes it as being legal and correct. The consequence of this faultless step is extra-uterine concep- tion. Suffering and death follow, " 'The sum of human misery is increased. What can reason say to axiom fifth? " 'Neither in the interest of truth, nor for the benefit of man, is it necessary to assert what we do not know.'* ''Is Colonel Ingersoll w^orking in the interest of truth? Is ho working for the benefit of man? Does he assert only what he knows ? Are his conclusions logical deductions from his own axioms? Is this the truth, the Avhole tiiith, and nothing but the truth? This, 'That which must be has the right to be.' "Is it for the benefit of man that he says this : 'If in this world there is a figtire of perfect purity, it is a mother holding in her thrilled and happy arms her child' ?-|- Does he assert only what he knows when he says this: 'An infinite Grod has no excuse for leaving his children in doubt and darkness'? J In another place, he says: 'I have had no experience with gods.' "How can a man say what anybody or anything ought or ought not to do when he has had no experience with the person, thing, or circumstance? "There is one sentence in Colonel Ingersoll's reply to Mr. Black, the drollery of which under all circumstances excites my risibles. I can't look at that sentence without laughter, and I can't think about it without a smile. It is this : " 'Will Mr. Black have the kindness to state a few of his objections to the devil?' "Now, will Colonel Ingersoll have the kindness to state his opinion of the 'perfect purity' of the figure of a mother holding in her arms her illegitimate child? "To pervert truth, to sophisticate nature, philosophy, or the understanding, to bend the mighty energies of the human intel- lect under a load of such ponderous magnitude as the doctrine of absolute atheism, entails a war in which the divine gift of ♦"Letter to Dr. Field," page 46. f'Reply to Mr. Black," page 487. f'Letter to Dr. Field," page 40. 54 The Lantern of Diogenes. speech is made the battering-ram of justice, and the confusion of sophistical reasoning is employed to entrap innocence and prostitute virtue. "Colonel Ingersoll must have got a glimpse of his own, Avhen he said: 'I admit that reason is a small and feeble flame, a flick- ering torch by stumblers carried in the starless night.'* Or he m.ay be under the influence of that chameleon sprite 'Supersti- tion,' as it leads in the van of hmnan darkness, charming the eye with its cymophanous light, and forming a mirage of iri- descent halos around the crown of human thought. "If he will analyze his own sayings in the light of pure reason, if he will place his philosophy in the scales of justice and test its specific gravity with that of the superstition he so mercilessly condemns, he may find that they both tip the beam at zero ; that opiniatry, not reason, is the 'flickering torch by stumblers carried in the starless night.' "When a system of philosophy is open to so many adverse criticisms ; when the glare of analysis casts a dark shade over statements purporting to be truth; and when a code of ethics reveals error under the sharp scalpel of reason, may Ave not doubt the infallibility of a theology based upon denial, and whose only support is ridicule? "It has been said that every man makes his own god. "Colonel Ingersoll hates Jehovah because Jehovah tolerates slavery. "Can hatred alter a fact? He hates the rheumatism, but can he convince the sufl"erers from that disease that rheumatism is a myth because he hates it? Rheumatism can be positively known to the sufi"erers only. If Colonel Ingersoll never had the rheumatism, hoAv does he knoAV such a disease exists? Is he not obliged to believe it from the testimony of others? "Perhaps he never had the toothache. Can he tell when an- other man has it? Or, doesn't he believe in toothache because he has had no experience with it? He may say that it stands to reason, that a decayed tooth should ache, or that an inflamed joint should pain. Very well, how about the pains of partu- rition? He assuredly has had no experience in that line. "Is pregnancy a disease and parturition a result of violated ♦"Divided Hoiisphold of Faith.' "Uncommonly Powerful in His Line." 55 law? Are the throes of labor sanitary, pleasureful or in any way for the good of the woman? Are they one of the cons&- quences of a bad action? He says, 'Actions are good or bad according to their consequences.' If he says there is nothing bad in the pains of parturition, I will confront his testimony by the testimony of every mother in the land. Will he deny the existence of these pains because he has had no experience with them ? "In his reply to Dr. Field, he says, 'I have had no experience with gods ; there can be no evidence to my mind of the existence of such a being.' ISTow, as Colonel Ingersoll has had no expe- rience with the pains of childbirth, I would like to know if there can be any evidence to his mind of the existence of such pains, save the hare statement of the woman. "Exclude the 'dark continent of motive and desire,' and let the 'poor sovereign' of 'that wondrous world with one inhab- itant' say whether there can be any more evidence to his mind of the existence of these pains tban there can be of the existence of an infinite being. We have the bare statement of the woman for the pains, and nothing else. We have the statements of both men and women for the existence of God. The amount of positive evidence is much greater for the existence of God than for the existence of labor pains, and, in addition to the positive, we have both negative and rationalistic evidence. "The strongest negative evidence for the existence of God is, that no other nor all other theories will account for the facts of the universe. "Admitting God will account for everything. "The rationalistic evidence for the existence of God is the stepping up to him by the ladder of the human mind. "l^ow, unless a man is lost in the 'treacherous sands and dangerous shores' of this 'dark continent of motive and desire,' he must see that it is no harder to believe in God than it is to believe in the rotundity of the earth, or the existence of China. " 'I have had no experience with gods,' therefore there is no God. "Is this syllogistic reasoning? Is Colonel Ingersoll dishonest, or is he unwise? He sets up a great deal of negative evidence to prove that he is not dishonest. 56 The Lantern of Diogenes. "Error is ever the result of ignorance or dishonesty. It never comes from any other source. "If he is dishonest, then the contest is only between ignorance and right. A good part of the better world says he is not right. According to his o'ttT.i definition of right and wrong, he is either wrong or inconsistent. I think he himself will agree that in- consistency cannot be right. Then if inconsistency cannot be right, the Colonel must be wrong. Being wrong and being honest at the same time, he must admit that he is ignorant. "Being ignorant, he ought not to set himself up for a teacher. If he persists in teaching, then he must deny that he is wrong or he must deny that he is honest. Being honest, however, there is nothing left but to say he is wrong; and being wrong, he is not fit to teach. Being unfit to teach, he ought to quit. This is a test of his honesty. Will he quit, or will he persist in his error, or will he endeavor to learn the truth? "He says,* 'We should do all within our power to inform, to educate, and to benefit our fellowmen.' Is he doing it? If so, by what means? Are his axioms a measure of his power? Where does his strength lie? "Colonel Ingersoll has certainly missed his calling. He ought to have been a preacher. That profession would have enabled him to expound his sojihistry, to promulgate his max- ims and contradictions to his heart's content, without offense. And he could in pious humility have prayed with 'Holy Willie' : " 'I bless and praise thy matchless might. When thousands thou hast left in night. That I am here afore thy sight For gifts and grace, A burnin' and a shinin" light To a' this place.' "He reasons after the manner of the revivalist. He occupies a place in the literaiy and philosophical world similar to Jay Gould's position in the financial world. He is neither Jew nor Gentile. He is the special phenomenon of the Nineteenth Cen- tury. He has pitted himself single-handed against the states- *"Divided Household of Faith." ''Uncommonly Powerful in His Line." 57 mau, the theologian, and the jurist. In many cases lie has been the victor. He seeks notoriety as Gould seeks money — it mat- ters little how he gets it. "He has studied human nature and learned its weaknesses. "While he holds up reason as the ultima thule of all that is desirable, he tempers his words to the capacity of the average man — well knowing that the mote which blinds his own eye has a magnified image in the eyes of the great majority of his fellows. "He has learned the unfortunate fact, that it is not so much ivhat a man says, but nearly all depends upon how he says it. "Reason, that mighty fetich of his idolatrous homage, is to him and his followers a flamboyant light, encircled with halos and spectral shadows — delusive in itself, and, siren-like, leading its votaries on to a willing death. "Mr. Ingersoll should stop and think. The people should stop and think, before they indorse him. " 'Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good,' but don't say, 'Everything is right that tends to the happiness of man- kind, and everything is wrong that increases the sum of human misery.' And don't say, 'That which must be has the right to be.' And don't say, 'Igmorance and credulity sustain the rela- tion of cause and effect.' And don't say, 'Acts are good or bad according to their consequences, and not according to the in- tentions of the actors.' And, above all things, don't say, 'In the nature of things there can be no evidence of the existence of an infinite being.' " The train stopped and the lecturer got up to leave. He was billed to this town for his "celebrated lecture," and a large con- course of people with a brass band had come to the depot to welcome him. He had listened with great attention to the long discourse of the old teacher, and many times he had strongly felt the impulse to internipt, but being a good listener as well as a good talker, he had sat with the others, mute and patient. His cynical eye beamed with a sardonic twinkle as he reached out his hand to bid the old gentleman goodbye, and he could not refrain from asking a few personal questions in regard to the old man's life history. 58 The Lantern of Diogenes. ''My good friend," lie said, "I am going to leave you liere^ and wkile I have been entertained in a variety of ways with your companionship, I am curious to know if you are a man of family." "No," answered the old man, "I have never been married." "Have you made a fortune by your profession of teaching?" "I have never had time to think about making money." "Without family, a man of your age must be somewhat alone in the world." "A man cannot be very much alone in the world who has friends at home, and books wherever he goes." "Can friends and books satisfy the cravings of the hixman heart? Is ambition stayed by a taste of others' glory? Is it nothing to be known — to be heralded on the wings of the wind — to come in contact with the great and the learned? "You contend for principles, while the world neither under- stands nor appreciates you. The majority of men love to be cheated, and will pay handsomely for the service. Poverty is the Muses' patrimony. Saturn and Mercury, the patrons of learning, are both dry planets. " 'And to this day is every scholar poor ; Gross gold from them rims headlong to the boor.' "Good-bye," and, shaking the old man's hand, he stepped out of the car. "Do you know that man ?" asked a clerical-looking gentleman on the opposite seat. "No." "That is Colonel Ingersoll." BOOK II. PREFACE TO BOOK II. Voltaire said, ''Books are made from books." Tiiis is true to some extent with, the present volume, but I flatter myself that it contains some ideas not found in other books. While I have culled from others, often quoting the exact language where it expressed the thought better than I could — plagiarized, if you will — I make no apology for the alicujus scripta furtum. My endeavor has been to write something to set men a-think- ing. Logic is hard, and philosophy dry unless interspersed with a certain degree of variety and abruptness. To this end I have endeavored to weave in a bit of romance without writing a novel. The characters I have introduced are two men of opposite modes of thought. One is a materialist, the other a spiritualist ; one a free-thinker, the other a believer ; one an infidel, the other a Christian. I have given free-rein to the thoughts of each one, and if the religious controversy is un- satisfactory to any Christian reader, the fault is in the substance and not in its application. In the answers to the material philosophy, I have culled from the best books on Theology, and had the aid of some of the ripest scholars in the land. Among those to whom I would ex- press gratitude and thanks are Rev. Dr. Borden P. Bowne of Boston, Rev. Dr. M. W. Prince of Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pa., and W. A. Candler, Bishop of the Southern Methodist Church. The local clergy of every denomination have been uni- formly kind in suggestions and hints for aids to the faith. I have excluded the Bible from either side as authority ; allowing both to quote, where the quotation is apt. Dogma has been excluded. The basis of the book is reason and experience. The schoolmaster is a real character who figured as a local celebrity for many years in Eastern Carolina. Most of the oddities attributed to him were real traits, and with a few em- bellishments, his true character is portrayed here. The quota- tion. Homo multarum litterarum never fitted a man better. The ""Wandering Jew" is made up, partly from legend, and partly from fancy. He is a Christian pure and simple. The Journeg Home. 63 BOOK II. CHAPTER I. THE JOURNEY HOME. After the lecturer left the car, and Mr. Eliot learned that he had been talking, all the while, to Colonel Ingersoll, a feeling of dismay took possession of his mind as a first reaction from ex- citing debate; but later, a sense of quiet satisfaction ensued at having unwittingly told some pertinent truths to the right man. While he had so disciplined his mind as to bring most of his faculties into subjection to his will, yet, at times, he found pleas- ure in yielding to the play of fancy. In solitude, especially after such a mental strain as he had just undergone, he would court the slavery of imagination, indulge the power of fiction, and send the fancy out upon the wing to cull from all imagina- ble conditions that which for the present moment he should most desire. In this frame of mind he passed the rest of his journey, being neither disposed to talk nor to read ; musing over the problem of life, contrasting the good with the evil in the world, wondering at the blindness of man, yet, amazed at his intellectual attainments ; sympathizing with the cheerless gloouj of the pessimist, and rejoicing in the buoyant courage of the optimist, his reveries ran in a never-ending chase, with thought pursuing thought, and vision succeeding vision as the monoto- nous roar of the train lulled the senses and disposed the mind to quietude and calm. The centers of thought suffered their powers of analysis to give way to the pleasing fancies of revery, and the old man's eyelids drooped as his head reclined to the corner of his seat. Half sleej^ing and half waking, the dynamical powers of an active brain ran riot over scenes of the past, and conjured up visions of the future greatness of man. Memory, that chaste goddess of the righteous and fell demon of the reprobate, pursued the phantoms of bygone days, evoked the shades of dead heroes; and, unlocking the ponderous doors of the great mausoleum of ancient philosophy, spread a feast 64 The Lantern of Diogenes. for tlie imagination unparalleled in its richness and beauty; and, barring the shapeless scenes of carnage, of blood, of murder and hypocrisy, the mad strife for gain, and the callous hatred of man toward man, would gild the book of life and leave the Stygian pool unstirred by the dip of a single wailing soul. His fidelity to the human intellect could neither be shaken by fraud nor weakened by deception. The power of thought to him was the light which shineth in the darkness, and his highest concep- tion of Deity was a being of boundless knowledge. To know had been his lifelong labor — to know truth — to know error, and to be able to distinguish between the two. He believed with a childlike faith that man could know the truth, that error was an evil only as it is misunderstood, and that ignorance had been the cause of all mischief. Cause and effect, he regarded as inseparably linked from eter- nity — what has been was the result of sheer necessity. He even went so far as to subscribe to the paradoxical creed which has been caricatured by the opponents of a certain school of Reli- gionists, as, "What is to be, will be. if it never is." Evil he regarded as necessary, a contrast which makes possible the good. A world without evil would be an unfit habitation for man. The Omniscient and Omnipotent Power which cre- ated the world and man, knew that evil was a necessity, knew that light could not exist Avithout darkness, that peace would be an impossibility without discord, and, hence, it is written, "I form the light and create darkness ; I make peace and create evil. I, the Lord, do all these things." The labor of cogitation is too violent to last long, and the reveries of fancy will finally end in slumber. Then it is that the indefinable state we call dreaming takes possession of the mind and we live as it were in another world. It is said by those who have paid most attention to the subject, that we dream only of those things Avhich in the past have made some impres- sion on the mind ; that to dream of things we never thought of is impossible, and the fact of our not remembering them is no evidence of the impression never having been made; that the mind registers every thought, every imprint received, and that this register is indestructible, inefl^aceable and eternal. The Journei^ Home. 65 The old man dreamed as he reclined upon his seat and slept. He dreamed of his childhood, his youth and his manhood. He dreamed of his mother long since dead. He dreamed of his school-days when his mind first began to take fitful glances at the tree of knowledge, when he saw the golden fruit dangling far beyond his reach. The relish with which he imbibed his first draught of knowledge returned in his slumber, and a smile played upon his features like the smile of an innocent babe. Visions as unreal and fantastic as the chaos of thought passed before his mental sight and vanished, one after another, like dissolving views. The monotonous roar of the train, the cramped position and half rest of the weary traveler contrib- uted to this mental phantasmagoria. He dreamed of the mountain he had climbed with weary steps to get only a glimpse of the truth. He saw error on every side of his path, and the yawning chasm of falsehood feasting with hungry eye and glut- tonous maw upon the fairest of mankind. A panoramic view of the intellectual development of the human race from the earliest dawn of history to the present time, ran a steeple-chase before his drowsy eyes, and he saw man in the savage state modelling for himself a God, to whom he transferred concep- tions of himself, and worshiped in the humility of self-love, and the fear of self-immolation. He saw the priesthood in the long vista of the past, either from superstitious honesty, or knavery, or both mixed, standing like an incubus in the way of human progress. He saw the dumb idols of Paganism sitting in eternal silence upon the throne of ignorance and fear. And then the beautiful image of a God-man came into view, about whose countenance a halo of glory shone in resplendent hues of love, and peace, and good-will toward men. The scene quickly changed, and a fountain of pure, limpid, sparkling water gushed forth from a rock, and meandered slowly amongst men, slaking the thirst of the weary, and washing the soiled fingers of the vile and the wretched. Here the leper was cleansed, the halt, the lame, and the blind made whole. The broken-hearted and miserable found in it a healing lotion for the sore spots on the soul, and exchanged here, their grief for joy. The vilest sinner was never refused a drink, and the poor were made welcome, without money and without price. An im- 66 The Lantern of Diogenes. mense sign iu golden letters stood over the rock, proclaiming freedom and equality, while a melodious voice was heard saying, "Come, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." The scene changed again : A broad, deep, and turbid torrent rushed along, sweeping before it human freedom, and drawing into its whirling eddies the progress, civilization, and culture of ages. Upon its bosom floated magnificent palaces in which the Priest and Levite held high carnival, where ares vehement hailed the degradation of man, and ignorance was held to be the mother of devotion. For a thousand years the tainted stream watered the earth and gave drink to man. Intoxicated with the Stygian draught, the gaping multitude crouched before, and paid homage to the gorgeous panoply. Reason abdicated her throne, and hallucinations born of religious zeal directed the affairs of State. The world went to sleep and the old man waked up w^ith a groan. Partly the uneasy sleep, but mainly the misshapen dream, caused this audible expression of pain. Rubbing his eyes, and collecting his thoughts, he contemplated the past history of Christendom with a sorrowful countenance, and looking out upon the beautiful country he was traveling over with such lightning speed, his amazement found expression in words, but his voice was drowned in the roar of the swiftly moving train. He said to himself, "How is it that so turbid a torrent could have flowed from so pure a fountain, and yet persist in claiming that fountaiii as its source? By what combination of human passion, perversity, and misconception could have grown up or been extracted anything so marvelously unlike its original as the current creeds of Christendom ? "Out of the teachings of perhaps the most sternly anti-sacer- dotal prophet Avho ever inaugurated a new religion, has been built up about the most pretentious and oppressive priesthood that ever weighed down the enterprise and the energy of the human mind. Christian worship, in its most prevailing form, has been made to consist in rites and ceremonies, in sacraments and feasts and fasts and periodic prayers. Jesus taught his disciples to trust in, and to worship a tender Father, long-suffer- The Journeg Home. 67 ing and plenteous in mercy : — those who speak in his name in these latter days, tell us rather of a relentless Judge, in whose picture, as they draw it, it is hard to recognize either justice or compassion. Theologians transmogrify the pure precepts and devotion of Jesus into a religion as nearly as possible their opposite, and then decree that whoever will not adopt their trav- esty 'without doubt shall perish everlastingly.' "Priestcraft, in some form, has dominated the human mind from the remotest ages, but the very masterpiece of human wis- dom has been developed in the polity of the Church of Rome. The experience of twelve hundred eventful years, the ingenuity and patient care of forty generations of statesmen, have im- proved that polity to such perfection, that, among the contriv- ances which have been devised for deceiving and oppressing mankind, it occupies the highest place." After this soliloquy, the tired traveler lapsed into a sort of trance or semi-conscious state, in which the old spectacle which so disturbed Jeremiah was reproduced before his eyes : "Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord; shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this? A wonderful and horrible thing is committed in the land : the prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means ; and my people love to have it so: and what will you do iu the end thereof?" "What will you do?" said the echo. "Do?" answered the old man, as he resumed the conscious state, "I will continue to teach. I will teach the young and the old. I will combat error and pro- mulgate truth. I will formulate a creed in accordance with the highest attributes of hmnanity — a creed that will cover up the ugly places in man's nature and fit him for the exercise of that love which is so much spoken of and so little realized. I will show to those that have eyes to see, and courage to look, that the orthodox creeds of to-day are nothing more than sewage dipped from the filthy stream which drowned, for a thousand years, the progress of man. I will show the priest of to-day with the same mark of the priest of yesterday. I will hold up the true image of God in man that all may see. Instead of a serpent of brass, I will lift up Reason, and ask the people to think. It will not 68 The Lantern of Diogenes. be a 'prostitute seated on a chair of state in the chancel of ISTotre Dame/ but it will be that likeness which commanded a council of the triune Godhead — a convocation of the Elohim for its making. It will be the image which draws the line between man and brute, the image which has been a nightmare and re- proach to priestcraft in all ages, and which religious iconoclasm has always endeavored to smirch and destroy. This beautiful picture, like its glory-cro^vned Archetype, will not fade. Its beacon light will yet lift man from the slime and miasm of the putrid river of superstition and fear. It will not down at the best of a Beecher, a Talmage, nor a Pope of Rome. It will eventually preside over the spiritual, as it now presides over the temporal aifairs of man. It will continue to shine till God will be seen through the intellect of man. Indeed, this image is the spiritual light, and the only spiritual light, which is able to make and guide a spiritual faith. Without this light, faith would be an unknown factor in the evolution of man. Without this light, man would be no more religious than the brute. Take away reason, and those subsidiary faculties denominated moral and religious, would vanish, as the shadow vanishes on with- drawing the light. Faith, which is the crowning glory of man, and which enables him to look beyond the finite into the infinite, is the last link in the chain of that intellectual endowment which makes him a moral and religious being. A faith which looks no higher for its source than its secondary causes, is like an oblation to an insensible, motionless idol, sitting with sight- less eyeballs, staring on vacuity. This is the faith which the current creeds of Christendom inculcate. This is the 'wonderful and horrible thing committed in the land.' " The approach toward home had been rapid and continuous. The teacher began to feel the balmy air, and to snifi the balsamic odor of his native pine forests. On the sand-hills of ISTorth Carolina he had been bred and born, and spent most of his long and blameless life. Here he felt at home. Here were his friends, and here he loved to be. The great West, with its mud and its sluggish streams, was an uninviting soil to an old man who loved to walk. The North was cold and dreary. Its bustle, and its keen rivaliy of personal interests, contrasted unfavor- ably with the calm of a Southern fireside. The Journep Home. 69 Money-making was out of his line and foreign to liis tliouglits. He failed to appreciate the huriy which gave little time to sleep- ing, and less for eating. He was proud of the great strides the world was making in material benefits, but the bent of his mind lay in the abstract rather than concrete. The world called him a dreamer, theorizer — an oddity. He was more like a dime in a barrel of coppers. At last, the train drew up at a little way- station on the Atlantic Coast Line Road, and the schoolmaster, from being "abroad," was at home. 70 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER II. THE TRACK IN THE ROAD. Around the little station lounged a few idlers, to wliom lie raised his hat and asked concerning their health. Being travel- worn and dusty, he proceeded at once to his home, five miles distant. His gait was awkward, for his back was very much bowed, and his strides long and deliberate. He habitually walked with his head down, as if in meditation. The idlers laughed, as empty pates always laugh at wisdom. Proceeding on his path, his eye caught the impress of a shoe which arrested his attention. The track was peculiar. The heeltap made an impression in the soft earth, which, in the present state of the old man's mind, caused him to watch every step, and to wonder at the arrangement of the nails. An ordi- nary shoe-heel is fastened by driving the nails on the outside rim, with scattering ones on the inside, and occasionally one in the center. This track was broad, and the nails in the heel formed a perfect cross. There were seven nails in each heel, and wherever the earth permitted a perfect track the imprint was thus : This impress of a shoe, constantly before the old man's eye, caused his thoughts to turn back to his dream and his tedious ride on the car. He had often seen a crucifoi"m jewel around the neck of a girl, or linked to the chain of a watch, but the idea of stamping the earth, at every step of a man, with an emblem of sacred truth exceeded his experience and excited his curiosity. His thirst after knowledge was sometimes eclipsed by his desire to scan a motive. Here was an incident which might be of peculiar interest, a shoe-track with the sign of the cross imbedded in the heel. "The wearer of this shoe must have a history, a story to tell, a. secret burthen to bear. He may have committed an offence — a sin — for which his conscience is lashing, and his soul still endeavoring to expiate. It may be that he is simply superstitious, and wears this talisman to ward off evil. Perhaps he is an idle vagabond, without motive in The Track in the Road. 71 carrying this emblem of the religion of Christ, and without knowledge of its import. At all events, I am curious to see this shoe, to talk with its wearer, and to know what it means." These were the thoughts which passed through the old man's mind, as he unconsciously quickened his gait, hoping to over- take the maker of the tracks. As he turned a curve, a long straight stretch in the road almost made him despair when he saw no sign of a pedestrian, however much he strained his vision. "Distance," it is said, "lends enchantment to the view." If enchantment could mean a palpitating impulse, a craving desire to move faster than one can walk, this long stretch in the road, punctuated at every step with the mystic symbol of a deathless dogma, would charm the old man's eye and gladden his heart. But the heat of the day and his anxiety to overtake the walker dissipated the mirage, and left him at the end of the course, short of breath, and full of perspiration. His ardor, however, was not diminished. The tracks appeared more recent; he was evi- dently gaining on the shoe. All at once, as he started down a slope in the road, he espied a man sitting on the foot-log of a sand-hill stream, bathing his feet. At this sight, the old man's heart leaped for joy. Bathing was one of his cardinal virtues, and he thoroughly believed with Pope, that cleanliness is next to godliness. Slacking his pace, he removed his hat and with a large bandanna wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He was now within a few steps of the shoe, and where he could take a critical view of the man. He was about to make a greet- ing, when his attention became so utterly absorbed at the appear- ance before him, that words failed, and his motions ceased. He stood as if nailed to the spot. The individual before him had the appearance of age and youth combined. His counte- nance betrayed his Semitic origin, and his features were typical of the modem Jew. Upon a general view he appeared to be in the prime of life, but a close inspection gave the impression of extreme age. Wrinkles combined with a rosy cheek, hoary locks with a juvenile look, a brilliant eye in a sunken orbit ; these and other odd characteristics, together with his dress and shoes, so amazed the schoolmaster, that he ventured not a word until the bath was finished. 72 The Lantern of Diogenes. All odd trait in the character of the old teacher has not yet been mentioned. However much he might wish to know your opinion, he never asked a direct question. While his curiosity was equal to that of Mother Eve, he would beat about the bush to get what he wanted, rather than risk the possible odium of being considered a Paul Pry. To ask him a direct question was, also, equivalent to getting no answer. These characteris- tics of a cautious mind were often complained of by his pupils. The impatient ones thought his method tedious and dilatory. Especially did those who had been taught in the usual way object to making haste slowly. At the end of each term, how- ever, the impress of vigilance was stamped more or less distinctly upon the mind of every one who came under his influence. At this moment, the conflict between caution and curiosity was vividly displayed in his countenance. His nostrils dilated, his mouth twitched, and his eyes blinked. He was in a dilemma. He wanted to speak, but the proper salutation would not come forward. Just as the traveler took up a shoe, the old man said : "Hail, friend ! good afternoon." "God be with you," replied the stranger, continuing to put on the shoe. "I almost grudge you the pleasure of your bath this sultry day, for I am footsore and tired." "If the water were scarce," said the stranger, "your grudge might be excusable, but thanks to Providence there is enough for both ; take a seat and enjoy my refreshment." "Thanks : — in easy reach of home, I will defer a part for the whole, and there enjoy what I most urgently desire and need. I have traveled much by rail and foot ; am dusty, and my rai- ment is out of repair." '^Traveled much ? Ah ! my friend, you know not what you say. Wo one knows what traveling means but he whose only de- sire is rest." "Rest is a great boon to the weary." "Yes, indeed ! and to all but me there is a promise saying, " 'Come uuto me, all ye that labor ami are lieavy-hiclen. and I will give you rest.' " The Track in the Road. 73 This was said in sucli an agonizing tone of despair, witli a countenance depicting such utter wretchedness, that the school- master, in spite of his stoical philosophy, averted his eye, and cast about for something to change the current of thought. In this he made a bad selection, for the other shoe of the traveler lay just in front and riveted his attention. Fascinated by the shoe, unable to change the current of thought, he yielded to the impulse, and spoke of the tracks. "For some distance back," he said, "I have noticed a strange mark in the road, rhythmical with the step of a man — in fact, a mould of that very step — which, on account of its unwonted connection with a track, has excited in me a most lively interest, and " Here the stranger took up the shoe and handed it to the old man, asking him at the same time to examine and see if it had any connection with the track. His curiosity would be gratified ; he might possibly learn something. On taking the shoe in his hand, he was forcibly struck with its ancient look, and yet surprised at no appearance of wear. It looked as if it might be a thousand years old, and at the same time every edge was sharp-cut, the sole had hardly lost its pol- ish, and the heel as trim as when first taken from the last. It was pliant and glossy save a thin coating of dust from recent use. The cross formed by the nails in the heel stood out in re- lief, sharp-cut and bright. The balance of the shoe was in- describable. It appeared to be made of scraps — parings from the cobbler's knife joined together in so skillful a manner as to defy detection. The pieces were of every shape and size, and put together in every conceivable manner, yet dovetailed and fitted with such accuracy and finish as to form a surface re- sembling the modern alligator leather. The high tension of the old man's curiosity was being grati- fied in one direction, and in another doubly excited. He began to see the outlines of strange characters in these scallopy inoscu- lations. Some of them resembled letters, others hieroglyphics. Being a classical scholar, and versed in antique lore, he traced the alphabets of many ancient languages. He looked long enough to see that these letters formed words, and the words fonned sentences. Dumfounded, he handed the 74 The Lantern of Diogenes. shoe back to the stranger with this simple remark : "Tlie track must have been made by this shoe." The interest excited by the track eclipsed itself in the shoe. "The Old Ghost" was lost to the external world. His brain was in a whirl. Doubter as he was, he began to suspect his owaa sanity. He had met with more than he bargained for. If the appearances before him were real, he was on the verge of a revelation. The more he looked at the man, the more he thought of the shoe, the more he was puzzled. His long talk with Inger- soll, his troubled dream on the car, his ride, his walk, the heat of the day, his present company, all contributed to a state of mental perturbation unusual with the old philosopher. Collecting his thoughts by a strong effort of the will, he de- termined to Avork out the problem if tact and perseverance would sustain him. The man, if a lunatic, appeared to be harm- less — he would invite him to his home. In the meantime the stranger had put on both shoes and was ready to resume his walk. The schoolmaster was nearing his home, and suggested, as the day was nearly spent and the traveler must be tired, that he would call and spend the night with him. To this invitation the pedestrian thankfully assented. Mr. Eliot was so well pleased with his success that he walked along in silent meditation. His thoughts were these: "If this man is insane, I shall have the opportunity of studying a chap- ter in Psychological Medicine from a most interesting clinic. The great principle that Mental Disease depends solely upon cerebral conditions, has now become so thorouglily established that it is no longer questioned. Its full recognition, however, has been followed by such activity of observation and research, that the field of inquiry has been extended in every direction, and at the present time it may truly be said that new opinions, new forms of Insanity, and new remedies have been and are being multiplied at a rate which far outstrips the steady march of consolidated knowledge. As the field of inquiry extends, the crop of good results is more difficult to garner. "At the present time. Psychological Science is undergoing a most notable process of expansion, and there is no sign that it will ever again be 'cribbed, cabined, and confined' by dogmas, The Track in the Road. 75 either legal or tlieological, nor any indication that its bounds will be circumscribed by any limits more narrow than man's powers to investigate the secrets of organization. ''If on the other hand he is rational, and really is what his appearance indicates, I shall have a most interesting compan- ion, one from whom I shall gather knowledge, and whom i shall most gladly entertain." . , , . His musings were interrupted as he raised his head and found himself at his own gate. "Here is our place" (he never called it my place) ; "walk in." ^^ The tramp obeyed with the simple remark : "Thanks. 76 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER III. THE WANDERIA^G JEW. Ghost Eliot was a bachelor. His establishment, unlike the usual bachelor's abode, was neat and tidy. His old maid-serv- ant (formerly a slave) was as neat as her master. Everything had been scrubbed and scoured during his absence, and every- thing put in its place. His library, more noted for its quaintness than for the num- ber of its volumes, first attracted the attention of the stranger. He was looking over some rare old books when supper was announced. At his own table the schoolmaster always invited strangers to ask a blessing. Bowing their heads, his guest said this sug- gestive grace : "Son of God — Christ ! Forgive me and let me rest. BlesSk mine host and accept our thanks, for what we have here is of Thee." After the frugal meal, these two men, the one so alert, yet so reticent in his inquiries, the other so modest and unassuming, attempted, in the cool of the evening, a general conversation. It was slow work. The mind of the schoolmaster was not on general topics. His imagination was wrought up to the highest pitch concerning his guest. Undecided in his mind as to his being insane, and unwilling to suspect him of crime, he found it difficult to conceal his de- sire to know something of the past history of one who seemed to be enveloped in a cloud of mystery. The stranger, obseiwing this anxiety on the part of his host, and surmising its cause, directed in a delicate way the conver- sation to himself. He commenced by saying: "The bath I took this afternoon on the road gave such relief to my feet that, with your permission, I will slip off my shoes and enjoy that complete rest which I am not often permitted, even tempo- rarily." "With all my heart," said the teacher; "and I will join you, for I seldom sit with my shoes on after the day's work is done." The Wandering Jew. 11 It was now growing dark, and the old maid-servant brought in a newly-trimmed lamp and placed it upon the table in the center of the room. It lighted the little apartment brilliantly. The schoolmaster placed his own shoes to one side and took up the stranger's. Instead, however, of placing them with his, he took a brush, and performing the duties of his self-appointed office of boot-black, soon had them shining and glossy. His sui'prise was again excited when he found a beautiful polish, come upon the shoes with a few strokes of the brush and with- out blacking. He then took a seat by the light and commenced a critical survey, noting the inosculations with the greed of an Antiquary. The letters of the ancient alphabets became more visible as he examined more closely, and he spelled words in the Punic, Chaldaic, Phoenician, Hebrew and Greek languages. He saw line after line in hieroglyphics, of which he could make nothing. He translated the Greek and saw they were familiar texts from the ISTew Testament. The Hebrew characters he could under- stand well enough to see they all made allusions to Jesus Christ as the Son of God. What surprised him as much as anything else was, that he could find neither stitch nor peg nor nail, save the seven in the heel forming the cross. He looked at his guest with an inquiring eye and said : "My friend, your shoes are a puzzle, an enigma. I have seen many queer products of the mechanic art. I have studied the hydro- static paradox and the magic square. I can understand how an ice-boat and a reaction water-wheel may travel faster than the wind or water which propels them, but these shoes, if they are a product of human mechanism, have obscured much of the cobbler's art. I find neither thread nor peg; neither seam nor awl-hole. I look in vain for something to hold the parts to- gether, and while I have never seen anything which appeared to need holding together more, it would seem that each part held its fellow part by mutual attraction. The mechanic who made these shoes must know more of the art than the shoemaker of the present day. Indeed, here is evidence of esthetic art, extraordinary mechanism and classical scholarship. I would like to be acquainted with the man who can do such work." 78 The Lantern of Diogenes. "To be acquainted with the maker of these shoes," replied the traveler, "would scarcely be profitable, for he has laid aside the tools of his craft, is an outcast upon the world, forsaken of God and man." "You speak in riddles." "The shoemaker himself is a riddle." "Is there no means of solving the riddle ?" "Yes, I have the key." "Then you can instruct me?" "If you desire it." "Xothing would please me better." "Listen, then, to a tale of sin and its consequences. "I was born a Jew, in the city of Jerusalem, one thousand nine hundred and eighteen years ago. My family was poor, my father being a common laborer. I was apprenticed to a shoe- maker at the age of seven. The ill-treatment I received at the hands of a brutish master, the lessons in dishonesty, and the hard fare of an apprentice warped my little intellect and stunted my body. I grew up to be a fair cobbler, but an accomplished rogTie. I studied more to make a shoe look well than to do honest work. I became a favorite cutter and fitter to the snobs of the city, and increased the patronage of my master many fold. I began to feel my importance, and took a shop of my own. It was on the main thoroughfare of the to"\vn, and my fame as a maker of stylish shoes spread far and "udde. At the age of thirty I had an established business and a fair trade. I decided to marry, and this step determined my fate. My wife proved anything but a helpmate. She was extravagant, pro- lific and a virago. In vain I made stylish shoes. In vain I hammered and stitched both day and night, burning the mid- night oil when I ought to have been asleep. In vain I remon- strated with her for wasting the fruits of my toil. In vain I attempted to reason her out of the violence of her temper. My house became a hell through improvidence and mismanagement. "I became morose and looked upon mine as a hard lot. Is- rael, besides being a civil polity, was a theocracy; she was not merely a nation, she was a Church. In Israel, religion was not, as with the peoples of pagan antiquity, a mere attribute or The Wandering Jew. 79 function of the national life. The religion of the Jew was the essence and the glory of his life. "Worship was to him what progress is to the present gen- eration. The existence, the presence of One, Supreme, Living, Personal Being, who alone exists necessarily and of Himself, was the great conviction of the people of Israel. The Jew, like Job, would have no daysman come betwixt him and his God. God had been to him a deliverer, a lawgiver and a guide. Any denial of his God or his mode of worship was a personal insult not to be forgiven. He witnessed daily sacrifices for sin ; he witnessed the sacrifice of sacrifices which Avas offered on the Day of Atonement, and by which the 'nation of religion,' imper- sonated in its High Priest, solemnly laid its sins upon the sacri- ficial victim, and bore the blood of atonement into the Presence- chamber of God. "With this he was satisfied. "I was in the prime of life when Jesus Christ came, preach- ing a new doctrine. "He claimed to be King of the Jews, the Son of God, the Savior of mankind. He habitually associated with and preached to the poor and ignorant. He denounced our rituals, our sacri- fices, our feasts, and fasts. He preached repentance and per- sonal righteousness. He said, " 'I am not of this world. I am from above.' 'I proceeded forth and came from God.' "He claimed to be the Son of God ! This claim caused his arrest a,nd trial for blasphemy. The Sanhedrim condemned Him because He claimed Divinity. The members of the Court stated this before Pilate : " 'We have a law, and by our law lie ought to die, because He made Himself the Sou of God.' "All this took place while I hammered at my last and stitched with my awl and thread. I had ahvays been scrupulous in my religious observances, but my poverty and inability to rise out of it prevented my taking any active part in schismatic opinions or discussions. I heard a good deal of the strange teachings of Jesus, but knowing him to be the son of a carpenter, and 80 The Lantern of Diogenes. hearing these reports only among the poor and ignorant, I re- garded him as a simple, harmless person, who had lost his wits, or a vainglorious braggart, who could do neither good nor harm. But when the Sanhedrim had pronounced sentence of death upon Him, and the day of execution was fixed, I felt my ran- cor rise against him. I said, 'If he had been earning an honest living, instead of leading the life of a vagabond and upsetting the minds of weak persons, he would now, in place of a pris- oner, be a respectable member of society; let him go, I have no sympathy for him.' The truth is, I was so hardened by toil and poverty that I felt truculent toward all who lived without labor. "On the day of the execution I was so pressed by my neces- sities that I could not think of losing the time to attend, yet, when the procession came along, I went to the door of my shop merely to see the crowd. It was a mob composed of all classes ; some enemies, some friends of Jesus, but mostly made up of idlers, vagabonds and thoughtless boys. The main spectacle was the condemned, who were compelled by law to carry their crosses. When Jesus came by He was weaiy and bent under His load. He asked permission to rest a moment upon the step of my door. I repulsed Him with acerbity, telling Him to go on — 'Go on, Jesus, to your deserts.' He looked upon me with a severe countenance and said : 'I go to rest, but thou shalt go on till I return.' "I went back to my work with a sneer on my lip, but the words, 'I go to rest, but thou shalt go on till I retuni,' kept ringing in my ears. I tried to think of something else and hammered furiously at my last, but the ominous sound con- tinued, first in the whole sentence, then in parts. Finally, it got down to the monosyllable, go ! and this was repeated so fast and in such a whirring monotone as to be positively painful. "I got up and walked about, and stuck my fingers in my ears, but it rang more violently, go-go-go-go-go-go-go-ooooooooo ! until I thought my ears would burst. "At last, without knowing what to do or where to go, I put on my hat and walked out. As I strode along, the dreadful noise weakened, and the faster I walked the more indistinct it The Wandering Jew. 81 became; but stop for a moment, and it would return Avitli in- creased tension, 'Go on, till I return, go-go-go-go!' And tbus it has been from that day if) this with few exceptions. I con- tinued to walk aimlessly, and scarcely knowing the direction I took until I found myself upon Calvary, where the Crucifixion was going on. I mingled with the crowd, spoke to many acquaintances, and jested with the enemies of Jesus, trying every means to get rid of the horrible din in my ears. "Crucifixion is, perhaps, the most cruel mode of executing the death penalty ever devised by man. It is slow torture, and death is the result of pain and exhaustion. After many hours the wretched victim dies without a struggle, thankful for the end. "On this memorable day, when the idle and thoughtless be- gan to stretch and yawn at the tedium of the torture, and the rancorous even began to surfeit ^dth the misery they came to behold, when conversation waned, and the black mantle of Death began to hover over the scene, a wail from the tree on which Jesus himg— a wail heart-rending and despairing, un- earthly in its cadence of anguish and despondency, rent the air, and sent a thrill of sadness through the most callous soul : "'Eloi, Eloi, lama SahachthanU' "I turned and saw the death agony, the finale of the passion of the Savior of mankind. "My eyes were suddenly opened to the heinousness of my crime, and I started upon a journey that has never ceased, a pilgrimage that will end only with the second coming of Christ. I realized for the first time that a curse was upon me, and that my expiation was an endless pererration. Go on, go on, go-go- go ! sounded like thunder in my ears, and pierced my brain like electric shocks. Whenever I attempted to stop the omi- nous roar drove me forward. Over hill and dale, through forest and fen, among civilized and savage nations I have roamed ceaselessly: praying for death, attempting suicide, en- listing in war, courting the perils of the sea and defying God that He might strike me dead. I stiidied the sciences of life and death, learned all the cures of disease, made a special study of Toxicology, and ventured into the labyrinth of Esoteric Buddhism. I traversed the miasmatic jungles of India, slept 82 The Lantern of Diogenes. in bogs, exposed myself to putrid emanations and noisome effluvia, entered the dens of wild beasts and poisonous serpents, lay in the path of Thugs, and prostrated myself before the Car of Juggernaut. "My sole object then, as now, was rest. Rest in peace, in death, in annihilation — anything for rest. That craving has never ceased, its fulfillment has never been realized. How to obtain this goal has been my daily thought for near two thou- sand years. The methods only have changed. Then I was rebellious, now I am humble. I felt that my rancor was just, and bottled it up to give it more strength. I roamed for a thousand years over every part of the habitable globe, cursing the day I was bom, and never ceasing to revile the author of my misery. I felt that I had committed a crime — but that my punishment was out of proportion to my guilt. I beleaguered with human philosophy the eternal wisdom of God, set myself the task of rejudging the justice of Omnipotence. My rebel- lious spirit sustained me until the blackness of despair obscured my vision, and the ceaseless torment of bodily pain provoked repentance. Repentance was a new doctrine to the Jew, a new mode of expiating crime. It came to me with tears, remorse, and despair. I fell prostrate before the image of a Crucified Savior and begged in piteous moans for rest. I ceased from this moment to indulge the folly of self-justification — the van- ity of intellectual pride. I felt that my sentence was just, that by an act of my own free will I had forfeited the inheritance of my Maker — had sold my birthright for a mess of pottage. All this time I was an outcast from the society of men, a vaga- bond upon earth with the mark of Cain upon my brow. The food I received was as a bone thrown to a dog, accompanied with a ban. "The one exception to this endless and fruitless journey of despair and remorse may be found in the Chronicles of Car- tophilus — a bit of literature rare, and sacred to the memory of Isaac Lakedion, whose wanderings make record in the poly- chronicons of cloistered monks. The Wandering Jew. 83 "Thus it is, saioth the Chronicles : "On the third day of the month Ehil and of the Creation, 3839 — which answereth to Augnst 22, A. D. TO, I left I'iostnm, before the stars of tlie morning were dimmed, and reached Pompeii on the night of that day. The smi was now buried in the waters of the Great Gulph, as I entered the eastern gate of Pompeii. A black and heavy cloud hung over the western horizon — the water of the Sarnus were much swelled — the Great Sea was more agitated than had been known for many years, and the numerous vessels in the south- ern and western harbors were with difficulty held to their moorings. "The night, however, though passed in safety, gave us dreadful presages, and was full of terrors to many. The multitude, neverthe- less, were keen as usual in the gratification of their darling pleasures ; and though nature scowled with angry threatenlngs, I found the streets filled with crowds in pursuit of gain, of vice, of folly and of voluptuous enjoyments — whilst a few were seen, as it were, creep- ing into the temples, and offering to the gods a feeble lip-service, or a hideous outcry, from excessive alarm. "On the morning of the fifth of Elul the sun rose with his usual lustre, the black and pregnant cloud had nearly vanished; the sea was greatly calmed; and the angry mountain was giving but an oc- casional moan — a much diminished volume of smoke and fire : — but, alas! all this was only the forebodemeut of an insidious and awful outbreak ! "Night came on, and with it an hour was dedicated to my Chronicles, in obedience to my long habit, as well as from the gloom that had nearly overcome me ; for the condition of the mountain was now becoming very alarming, and our great desire was to hasten on our road that night, if possible, or by the early dawn of the morning. "Wearied became my eyelids, and unto my couch I repaired for rest, Vesuvio volente! "I need not recount the manner in which I became buried quite fifteen cubits beneath the ashy showers of Vesuvius, which ceased not entirely to pour down during several days; nor can I describe my agonies when the incumbent weight increased upon me, and as I became more and more conscious that life designed not to leave me; but that I was destined to exist under a load of unimaginable tortures — how long I could then in nowise conjecture ! "Happily for me, all this was preceded by a marvelous change of all that was corporeal in me, and with little, if any, note of time; for the years I lay there were, as to time, but a dreamy existence; and yet, in all other things, with the same vivid sight and con- sciousness that often belong to man during the brightest visions of the night ! 84 The Lantern of Diogenes. "At first, all around me was black aud pfilpfible darkness — but soon, great was my wonder when a mild and comparative light, if snch it might be called, slowly beamed in npon me, and more as if it foxind its source within me than anywhere without! — for all things, after a while, seemed to become parts of myself— attended, moreover, by such a preternatural increase of my vision that even Nature's minutest objects — their most intimate organization, and their very essences, were glaringly before me, and soon thereafter became to me, either odiously, or delightfully familiar, according to their very diverse natures ! "To my then ethereal and piercing vision, all nature around me teemed with life; aud the astounding fact was revealed to me that nearly all matter, which, to the natural eye is so inert and lifeless, is perpetually quickening into animation and bursting into active exist- ences — or, sinking into death — there to assume other mutations, again springing into or sustaining life ! Plere it was that I first learned to know that, in all creation, there exists a vast connected chain of be- ing — an infinite progressive series of animation — filling all things, aud giving breath, yea thought — and hence, the power and duty of praise to Him who alone Is the Fountain whence they spring, and whither they must all return — each at its own appointed time ! "The years I had thus unconsciously passed, as to time, beneath those ashes, were often occupied by me in contemplating all those awakening things that then encompassed me — also in reminiscences of the hateful past, and in forebodings of the yet more odious and terrific future! These musings flitted through my mind, exciting it to the keenest curiosity — and then subduing it with wonder. At other times I found myself earnestly engaged in noting the habits and fashions of life among the infinitely various and small beings that moved and gamboled and died around me I And, as I now remember, when Vesuvius was casting forth more than its wonted volume of fire and smoke, I perceived that the earth was everywhere penetrated with a most odious and pestiferous «(//"«, charged with sulphurous and arsenical particles, and with other metallic poisons ! But great in- deed was my wonder on beholding that, when these noxious, though extremely attenuated effluvia, were piercing thoroughly the earth, ac- companied with sudden and tumultuous motions, far and wide, these were followed by a rush from the earth, into the air, of countless myriads of those inconceivably minute insects, then so hideously augmented to my vision, but which to man would continue unseen, were even an hundred million of them united into a single mass ! These little beings, nevertheless, were intensely venomous for their volume ; and when bi*eathed in by man or beast, have often proved the cause of many foul diseases — of plagues, and of many unknown maladies, to baffle the skill of every Hippocrates, and to prove so mortal to our siiecies ! Those life-killing insects are often wafted The Wandering Jew. 85 to great distauces by siidtleu and resistless currents of air, — causing sickness, or deatli, even in the remotest regions, and ever in the ratio of the densitj' of their numbers ; and in places, too, where Vesuvius, or ^Etna, is yet utterly unknown!* "How I eventually escaped from my earthy stronghold, and emei'ged once more to hail the blessed light of heaven, and to inspire its balmy air, with a more refreshened spirit than when I entered Pompeii's walls, need not be told further than that some plunderers came and sedulously dug over the very spot beneath where I lay; but having searched in vain, after removing much of the earth above me, they left my body almost visible ! As night approached, the moisture, and the rush of fresh and vital air into my lungs, so long a stranger to it, gave me an awakening sensation, and soon a con- sciousness of a returning power of locomotion ! The blood now be- gan to course rapidly through my veins ; and suddenly arousing my- self, as with a convulsive struggle, I bounded upon my feet into the open air — w^here all around me were silence and the darkness of a moonless night ! "My usual vision was instantly restored ; and early did I experience a longing for food ! Vesuvius, as usual, had a few small streams of burning lava down its sides ; and by this was given me the direction I would go ; so that, before the Aawn of day, Cartaphilus was again among the living, and suitably clad, at the 'Otiosa Xeapolis' — where, after nourishing the outer man during some days, he procured a small vessel, and hastened on to his beloved abode at Psestum, after an absence of just six years, less ten days ! And here in Psestum, three days thereafter, I recorded this portion of my Chronicle. "But the story of the marvelous past is not yet quite told. Skipping over many years from the time of my entombment in the ashes of Pompeii, I return to the regular course of my fitful and eventful career, enacted with men, and measured by time which, in the present day, would be deemed a waste and a crime." *The modern (?) theory of the microbe origin of disease is here exposed, and many recent discoveries in medicine have proved to be the resurrected remains of ancient aruspicy. Verily, "there is nothing new under the sun." 86 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER IV. THE CRUSADES. "Footsore, dejected in spirit and without object in my ram- bles, one day on the dusty highways of Continental Europe I met a man of mean appearance, riding a mule and bearing a weighty crucifix. His head was bare, his feet naked, his meager body was wrapped in a coarse garment. His stature was small, his appearance contemptible ; but his eyes were keen and lively, and he possessed that vehemence of speech which seldom fails to impart the persuasion of the soul. This man, who had for- saken his wife, and abandoned his military standard under the Counts of Boulogne, had returned from the Holy Land with his heart on fire, not so much from the memory of the hard- ships which he had himself undergone, as for the cruelties and tortures which he had seen inflicted on his fellow-Christians. "He halted me on the road and demanded to know my busi- ness. "I endeavored to evade his glance, and pass his searching eye; but he was too much in earnest to lose one opportunity of impressing the importance of his mission upon the lowliest of his fellows. I yielded to his persuasions and followed in his wake. "Peter the Hermit (for this was he) preached to innumerable crowds in the churches, the streets and the highways ; he entered with equal confidence the palace and the cottage, and the j)eople were impetuously moved by his call to repentance and arms. "When he painted the sufferings of the natives and pilgrims of Palestine, every heart was melted to compassion; every breast glowed with indignation when he challenged the warriors of the age to defend their brethren and rescue their Saviour. His vehemence carried all before him, none the less, perhaps, because he bade them remember that no sins were too heinous to be washed away by the waters of the Jordan, no evil habits too deadly to be condoned for the one good work, which should make them champions of the cross. Pope Urban the Second received him as a prophet, applauded his glorious design, prom- ised to support it in a general council, and encouraged him to The Crusades. 87 proclaim the deliverance of the Holy Land. Invigorated by the approbation of the pontiff, his zealous missionary traversed, with speed and success, the provinces of Italy and France. The most polished orator of Athens might have envied the success of his eloquence. This indefatigable teacher inspired the pas- sions which he felt, and Christendom expected with impatience the counsels and decrees of the supreme pontiff. "The Europe of that day was very different from the Europe of ours. It was in its Age of Faith. "Recently converted, as all recent converts do, it made its be- lief a living rule of action. In our times there is not upon that continent a nation which, in its practical relations with others, carries out to their consequences its ostensible, its avowed ar- ticles of belief. Catholics, Protestants, Mohammedans, they of the Greek Communion, indiscriminately consort together under the expediences of the passing hour. Statesmanship has long since been dissevered from religion — a fact most portentous for future times. But it was not so in the Middle Ages. Men then believed their form of faith with the same clearness, the same intensity Avith which they believed their own existence or the actual presence of things upon which they cast their eyes. The doctrines of the Church were to them no mere inconsequential affair, but an absolute, an actual reality, a living and a fearful thing. It would have passed their comprehension if they could have been assured that a day would come when Christian Europe, by a breath, could remove from the holy places the scandal of an infidel intruder, but, upon the whole, would con- sider it not worth her while to do so. How differently they acted. When by the preaching of Peter the Hermit and his collaborators, who had received a signal from Rome, a knowl- edge had come to their ears of the reproach that had befallen Jerusalem and the sufferings of the pilgrims, their plain but straightforward common sense taught them at once what was the right remedy to apply, and forthwith they did apply it, and Christendom, precipitated headlong upon the Holy Land, was brought face to face with Mohammedanism. "The crusades have been condemned, ridiculed, and held up as examples of fanaticism run mad. Historians, failing to com- prehend the efficient causes, and painting the surface scenes 88 The Lantern of Diogenes. only, have left the Holy Wars under a ban. An impulse so l^OAverfnl as to combine nations in arms for the accomplishment of one purpose may not be classed with causes which operate to produce individual actions. The individual is actuated by his o^\Ti will, and may or may not do at his discretion, but national movements are inaugurated under the direction of causes over which the individual has little control. It is true that the Her- mit, by his preaching, fanned the flame which was already aglow, and precipitated a half million of men, poorly prepared, upon a scheme which resulted in disaster to many individuals, but the final outcome of that scheme was to uphold and strengthen the Church of Christ. "In these wars I engaged with a relish, a zeal second only to that of Peter. I put on the badge of the cross, and headed the van. Throughout the weary marches, the sufferings, and the privations of the nine Holy Wars, I was a brave soldier, a valiant knight of the Cross. I am the only living witness of those eventful times, and if the crusades disappointed the ex- pectation of their promoters, they achieved some results, the benefits of which have been felt from that day to the present. They failed, indeed, to establish the permanent dominion of Latin Christendom, whether in ISTew Rome or in Jerusalem ; but they prolonged for nearly four centuries the life of the Eastern empire, and by so doing they arrested the tide of Ma- hometan conquests as effectually as it was arrested for N^orthern Europe by Charles Martel on the plain of Tours. They saved the Italian and perhaps even the Teutonic and the Scandina- vian lands from a tyranny which has blasted the fairest regions of the earth ; and if they added fuel to the flame of theological hatred between the Orthodox and the Latin churches, if they intensified the feelings of suspicion and dislike between the Eastern and the Western Christians, they yet opened the way for an interchange of thought and learning which had its result in the revival of letters, and in the religious reformation which followed that revival. The ulterior results of the crusades were the breaking up of the feudal system, the abolition of serfdom, the supremacy of a common law over the independent jurisdic- tion of chiefs who claimed the right of private Avars ; and if for the time they led to deeds of iniquity which it would be mon- The Crusades. 89 strous even to palliate, it must yet be admitted that in their influence on later ages the evil has been assuredly outweighed by the good. "This brief allusion to the crusades will enable you the bet- ter to understand what I am about to relate in regard to the shoes. "When the last soldier had been disbanded from the crusad- ing armies, and the streets of Jerusalem had been washed, and order somewhat restored, I found myself standing one day in the market-place, close by the site of the ancient Temple. The day was cloudy and the scene dreary. The few coster-men whose stalls were occasionally visited by an ancient crone, or a ragged child, seemed to take no interest in their trade. The leaden hue of dejection sat upon their features, and it appeared to be an effort for them to tell the price of their wares. As I contemplated their forlorn appearance, and ruminated upon the changed complexion of this once busy mart, the old grating hum of 'go, go, go on, go on till I return,' which had been par- tially drowned in the busy scenes of the crusades, began a fresh and invigorated strain, which warned me that my days of pil- grimage were not yet ended." 90 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER V. THE CRAZY SHOEMAKER. ''As I was about to obey tbe summons, and pay another in- stallment upon the wages of my sin, a little old man, bmnp- backed and blind of one eye, mounted a box and began, with wild gesticulations and vociferou^s speech, to call attention to a pair of sandals he held in his hands. His speech was so inco- herent, so disconnected, and withal so pathetic, that I stayed a moment to hear what he had to say. As no one paid him the slightest attention, and as he appeared none the less in earnest on that account, I ventured to ask a Mohammedan bystander w^ho he was, and what he meant by disturbing the market-place in the manner he was doing. The reply Avas, 'He is a crazy shoemaker, living on Mount Calvary, and imagines he is in possession of the sandals worn by that deluded prophet, Jesus, the so-called Christ, who was crucified by order of Pilate for calling himself the Son of God, and in whose name the streets of this city have recently flowed knee-deep in human blood — blood of innocent babes and helpless women — in whose name more crime, more sin has been committed, more lives lost, more treasure wasted, more tears shed and more brains demented, than by the combined folly of man since superstition first erected an altar to igiiorance and fear. He comes here every day at this hour, and goes through his present performance, after which he returns to his hut, and spends most of his time in repairing the footgear of the neighboring peasants. I am told that he is very ingenious at his trade, and that some of his work is a great puzzle to the shoemakers of the city. He is harmless, and the authorities, after exhausting their means to suppress him, have decided to interfere with him no more. jSTo one pays the least attention to him. Even the boys have ceased to hoot him.' "Notwithstanding the apparent insanity of the man, I could perceive that he was in real earnest, and believed Avith all his soul that the message he was delivering not only had merit, but came to him from authority which made it his imperative The Crazp Shoemaker. 91 duty to iterate, and reiterate, day by day, the monitions of liis secret counsellor. He ceased his harangue, cast up his eyes, and with outstretched hands exclaimed in pathetic tones: "O, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee ; how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! Behold your house is left unto you desolate.' "With this outburst of feeling, he descended from his perch and proceeded without another word to his hut. I followed closely, and by the time the old man had seated himself, I entered behind him. *^This little old cobbler's den, situated on the very spot where the Crucifixion took place a thousand years before, was a ver- itable curiosity shop. The fixtures to the shoemaker's trade, as I knew them in former days, were not to be seen. Instead of the last, he used a kind of plastic mould, by which he fitted the shoe to the exact shape of the foot. In place of thread, he used cement, and his leather was all in scraps, prepared by a ponderous machine with knives and rollers so constructed that, when gauged by the mould, every part of the shoe, ready cut, ready hammered, and ready polished, dropped out to fit the very foot for which the machine was gauged. The hammer was supplemented by a press, the exact construction of which I never understood. It was in the shape of a cross, with hollow shaft, and a sliding door at the juncture of the limbs. When a shoe was to be made or repaired, the parts all being placed in apposition in the mould and properly cemented, it was removed to this press and the sliding door sealed. The limbs acted as levers, being bent down and fastened to the shaft. After a length of time, according to the work done, either a shoe re- paired or newly made, the levers were raised, the door opened and the shoe removed. It came out of the press ready for the foot. On the walls of the shop I noticed a great variety of curious figures, of various sizes, which I afterward found to be patch-patterns; and they all had significant meanings. "The little man eyed me as I entered, and seemed to divine my business, for he began at once to talk about the shoes he had 92 The Lantern of Diogenes. exhibited in the market-place. He explained that, in digging the foundation for his shop, he had come upon the shoes, and the moment he touched them a thrill had pervaded his whole body, and he distinctly heard a voice whisper in his ear, 'These are the shoes of the Sou of God.' ''From being a bigoted Jew he immediately became an humble Christian, and since that time he had made daily efforts to bring his fellowman to a knowledge of the tmth, as it is in Jesus Christ. He preached a sermon too long to repeat, and at its close handed me the shoes for inspection, A more sudden transition from storm to calm never befell a tempest-tossed mariner on entering the vortex of a cyclone than came to me the very moment I took the shoes in my hands. The terrible roar ceased, and for the first time since that awful day, over a thousand years before, I was at peace with myself and all the world. My happiness was too great for expression; it was the joy of a serene calm, such as I have heard described by the devotees of that iN'epenthe draught which removes all sorrow for the day. I had no desire to move or speak. Relief had come so suddenly and so unexpectedly that both mental and physical powers yielded to the intoxication of hope renewed, and for the time being I had no care and no want. At length the little man spoke, and his voice roused me from my lethargy. I told him my story and besought him to let me remain in his house, where I could have the rest I so much desired. He heartily sympathized with me in my distress, and while my story appeared incredible even to him, he allowed me to join him in his work, and earn my bread for a while by honest toil. His health becoming poor, he soon ceased his visits to the market-place, and after I had learned to make and repair shoes by his method, the business of the shop gradually fell into my hands, For many months I lived in comparative peace with this good man, and I can irvlj say that the time spent in his society, in doing his work and in serving him in his illness, were the happiest moments of my life. The shoes were a never-failing resource against my infirmity, and but for the needs of my friend, and the exactions of business, I never The Crazi; Shoemaker. 93 "would again have laid them doAni. I went to rest every night hugging them to my bosom, and kept them ever in reach by day. The mortal fear of losing them seized me at times, and deprived me of much happiness. I had learned to worship Jesus through these shoes truly and thankfully, but it was a selfish homage, and in the end I was repaid in gall and worm- wood. My friend and benefactor became weaker and more feeble day by day, and as his bodily powers failed, his mind gradually waned, until he was little more than a child. At last he died, and the tears from a surcharged fountain welled to the brim, but refused to flow. I consigned his dust to the earth, his mother, and sat down in the ashes. My grief was genuine ; I was cut off from mankind again, and I envied, the state of my friend, ''After his death, the original bidding which had driven me forth for so many years came as a fiat, an ultimatum, to menace the mystic power of the shoes. It would loom up in the dark- ness like a giant specter, and mock the spirit of the talisman. It assumed the shape and manner of the unclean spirit and defied the power of the good. It became the Ahriman of Per- sian, the Devil of Christian theology. It hovered around the little shop by day, and haunted my dreams at night. It set up a war with the shoes, and chose my weary brain for its battleground. It cast me back into the 'Slough of Despond,' from which I had recently emerged, and blinded my faith with the dusky film of doubt. I became restless again ; temptation seized upon my spirit, and I began once more to consult my own resources. The idea of a compromise at first whimsical and faint, at length rooted itself in my mind. I lost sight of the fact that, 'N^o man can serve two masters,' and in my desire for more, I lost what peace I had. I would obey the demon, but shield myself with the shoes.. This decision cost me all the rest I had gained — sent me forth once more as a tramp. "I had learned the mysteries of the new art of shoemaking, from my late friend and master, and to add insult to injury, with an act of blasphemous ingenuity, I determined to fit the sacred sandals to my own graceless feet. This proved a greater task than I anticipated. First, I had to take them in pieces. 94 The Lantern of Diogenes. then add such parts as were required to make them fit, without losing or altering any part of the original. Every effort, not- withstanding the aid of the mould and cutting machine, failed. I tried every conceivable combination, and Avould often succeed, save one little scrap. This scrap was invariably a portion of the sandal, and I dared not alter it, for fear of destroying its A'irtues. I labored faithfully, with a patience and skill worthy of a better cause. I was encouraged by the demon in this sacri- legious work, and promised exemption from my woes. I paid homage to the shade of Mephistopheles, that child of Darkness and emissary of the primeval J^othing, who stands in his spirit- ual deformity at once potent, dangerous and contemptible. To this cold, scoffing, relentless fiend, I paid my vows. "I believed if I could get the combination I would be safe. The last mystery of the shoemaker's art was to be solved, and this fallen archangel — this Devil, not of superstition, but of knowledge, could solve it. To his natural, indelible deformity of wickedness, to his combination of perfect understanding with perfect selfishness, of logical life with Moral death I erected an altar, and here burned the incense of my intellectual off'ering. ''The sacrifice was acceptable. "On the wall of the shop, among the curious figures mentioned before as patch-patterns, the problem was solved. My eyes were ravished even as the eyes of Holofernes were ravished by the sandals of Judith. Yea, the fauchion entered my neck — not of steel, as in Holofernes' case, but of remorse, as with Adam after eating the forbidden fruit. It was an easy matter now to finish the work. The mould, the cutting machine, the patch-patterns, the press all worked in unison, and in a few days the shoes came forth as you now behold them. "It was a joyful day in Pandemonium when the work was finished. The fires of Gehenna broke out afresh and burned Avith a lurid, sulphury flame ; the mountains quaked, and the heavens became dark, as on the day of the Crucifixion. The lit- tle shop trembled to its foundation, the press folded its arms, and the mould and cutting machine mouldered away to dust. The patch-patterns were scattered to the winds, and the demon danced a horrible jig to the music of 'go, go, go on till I return !' The Crasg Shoemaker. 95 I could stand it no longer. I put the shoes on my feet and walked away in the darkness and tumult. I liave done no more work, I have had no other home. I am without a friend in the world." The schoolmaster went to bed that night firmly convinced that he had a crazy man for his guest. 96 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER VI. FREEDOM AND NECESSITY. Mr. Eliot was an early riser ; he was also in need of a bath. The story told by his guest the night before was of such absorb- ing interest and consumed so much time, that, at its close, both felt the necessity of immediate retirement. After the schoolmaster made up his mind that he was enter- taining a harmless lunatic, he gave thanks to the man who invented sleep, and quietly committed himself to the god of repose. His rest was unbroken and he arose with the lark completely refreshed. His first thought was the well, his bucket and sponge. If cranky on any subject, it was that of personal cleanliness. He often sponged his whole body over, three times a day in summer, and after these excesses, I have frequently heard him say his skin felt as if it was too short for him. On this particular morning he enjoyed to its full fruition the lux- ury of which he had been deprived so long. He felt better after it was over and concluded he was more "godly" if not more "Christian." After the first salutation of his guest, he remem- bered an expression in the narrative which forms the ground- work of this chapter, and while he regarded the man as being a little tete-exaltee, he was anxious to know if his reasoning powers were equal to his descriptive. Referring to the graphic memoir of the night before, and quoting from the Book, he said to his companion : " 'Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good,' aud, 'Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in yon.' "Paul gave good advice to the Thessalonians when he told them to prove all things, and Peter was certainly inculcating good manners when he encouraged all to be ready with an an- swer. You state in your memoir that 'The individual is actu- ated by his own will, and may or may not do at his discretion,' and making a personal matter of it, you said : 'I felt that my sentence was just, that by an act of my own free will, I had for- Freedom and Necessity. 97 feited the iiilieritauce of my Maker.' Certainly, you mean to be lionest, and I admire the manly spirit of assuming the responsi- bility of one's own acts, but under the ruling of the Apostle, whose authority we will not question, it seems to me that you have arrived at conclusions upon which a full investigation of facts may throw more or less doubt." "Do you mean to intimate," said the guest, "that a man is not free to do or not to do — to act according to the dictates of his own will; in other words, do you question man's freedom and doubt his responsibility ?" Host. — I only mean to folloAV the injunction of Paul to "prove all things." Guest. — Some things neither require proof, nor are they sus- ceptible of demonstration. The Apostle surely did not include self-evident truths when he said "prove all things." Host. — It is a dangerous thing to deal with axioms ; the seven wise men of Greece did not venture to produce more than one apiece. Guest. — Moral freedom in man, though not a necessary truth, as an established principle is universally received, and in that sense becomes axiomatic. Host. — If not a necessary truth there may be some doubt of its being a truth at all, and in that case it behooves us to fol- low the injunction of the Apostle. Guest. — It is not a necessary truth that the sun will rise to-morrow, and according to your philosophy it would become us to prove that it will rise before accepting it as a truth. Host. — We accept it as a truth that the sun will rise to- morrow, because in our experience it has always risen, and we have no cause to believe it will cease to rise, therefore, we are not justified in questioning the fact of its rising, and need no proof of that fact. Guest. — For the same reason we accept it as a truth that man is free to act as he pleases. We have always seen him act as if he was free, and having no cause to believe he will cease to ex- ercise his freedom, we are not justified in questioning it, and need no proof of its truth. Host. — To pit a stubborn fact against an abstraction is hardly 7 98 The Lantern of Diogenes. a legitimate mode of reasoning by analogy. The rising or non- rising of the sun cannot be a question of interest to man, for its rising is taken for granted, and even to question it would be con- sidered Quixotic, but this question of moral freedom is one open to much discussion, and the discussion is legitimate as bearing upon man's happiness here, and the exercise of a rational faith in regard to his hereafter. Guest. — If facts and abstract ideas run counter to one an- other, there must be something weak in the abstraction, as all truths blend harmoniously, and where we fail to recognize them, it may be set down as our misfortune. This last sally put the schoolmaster upon his mettle, for he prided himself upon the fortress of his noncommittal dialecti- cism; and, peering through the shade of lunacy which his im- agination had cast ujDon his friend the night before, he addressed him as he would the most subtle and refined casuist. In his daily lectures to his class he made elaborate argu- ments from the data given, but he never allowed himself to deliver a verdict ; leaving that rather to the judgment of his students. In this manner he approached the vexed question of free will in man, and braced himself for the following exploita- tion : ^'The careful student of Nature," said he, "cannot have failed to observe that all creatures endowed with life are possessed of many attributes in common ; in fact, the distinctive marks be- tween man and the lower animals are much fewer than w^e might at first suppose; and, if brought to a crucial test, the dividing line would be so narrowed as to merge almost insensibly one into the other. Yet there is a difference so great, a chasm so broad, that the theory of man's descent has failed to bridge the gap, and the intellect of a Darwin, a Spencer, a Helmholtz and even the marvelously j)ainstaking studies of a Haeckel, have all con- fessed to a 'missing link' in the chain of cause and effect, Avhich shall attempt to bind man to a common origin with the brute. "Whence this line so narrow, yet so impassable ? "To answer this question is the easiest of all easy matters, but to bring the minds of others in accord — to convince — re- quires proof, illustration, argument. Freedom and Necessity. 99 "In dealing with the Problem of Human Life, philosophers have uniformly followed a line of investigation calculated to baffle any inquiry where truth is the object to be gained. "They have studied man only in his manhood. "With his faculties fully developed and his body mature, the task of accounting for the varied phenomena presented in the course of one individual career is so Herculean in its inception, so fraught with perplexities and difficulties in its execution, that the keenest scrutiny of the most painstaking observer is eluded, and the protean forms of real and apparent traits mys- tify, and leave the investigator in doubt as to what kind of a subject he has to treat. To get a clear conception of what man really is would seem to be a priceless boon, as so large a share of human conduct is influenced by what we think of ourselves and our fellows. Efforts, from the earliest dawai of history, have been and are still being made in this direction, yet we seem to be as far from the solution as ever. Whence the trouble ? How is it that the human mind of all creation is the least understood ? Why do philosophers stand aghast at the results of their owii investigations? Is reason unreliable here and reliable in all things else? i^ay, unperverted and supported by facts, it can never lead to error. It may conflict with all the senses, desires, appetites and passions, yet it is the beacon light which illumi- nates the path of life, and dispels uncertainty and doubt. It is the image of God in which man was made, and when we lay aside our reason we deny God. "To reason, then, we appeal, for this is an invocation to the God who made us. But let us make no mistake. While reason is our only reliable guide, there are circumstances in which it may be the direct means of leading to error; for instance, rea- soning correctly from false premises must inevitably lead to false conclusions. How important then it is to set out with cor- rect premises ! "With this view let us approach this moot-point, untram- meled by hope or fear. Facts, as they are knowni to most people and can be ascertained by all, shall be the groundwork. If the premises be correct and the reasoning logical, the conclusions must be true. 100 The Lantern of Diogenes. "We perceive the brute creation endowed with all the physical attributes of men. They hunger, thirst, tire, sleep, eat and drink; have like passions, as fear, love, hatred, revenge, filial and parental aifection, and memory. The special senses are more acute, as seeing, hearing and smelling, but have they the power of abstract thought? Can we claim for the horse an intellect, or the elephant a moral sense ? However closely some automatic actions of animals may simulate the actions of men, and appear to be incited by previously arranged design, ideas, or reflex perception of objects after the original perception or impression has been felt by the mind, cannot be reasonably claimed for the brute. In this sense we speak of intellect, and right here comes in the distinguishing characteristic of man ; first, understanding, by which he thinks, reasons and profits by experience, and then all the aggregated qualities which make such an impassable gulf between him and the brute, such as Morality, Spirituality, Keverence, "Worship, etc. Shall we look upon all these higher qualities as mere concomitants, or shall we view them in the relation of cause and effect ? If concomi- tant merely in distinguishment of man, there can be no good reason why idiots should not be endowed with those other higher qualities which separate man from the brute. Is such the case ? Can he perceive the beauties of love, charity or benevolence? Is he anywise more human than the brute, except in form? If this view be correct, should he be deprived of moral sense be- cause he has not the power to think? As well might we say, because a man is deaf, he shall be blind also. Seeing and hear- ing are concomitant qualities, neither one depending on the other for existence, but we never see any evidence of moral sense without some power of abstract thought ; then are we irresistibly led to conclude that the moral sense is dependent for its existence upon the intellect. And so with all the other higher qualities which distinguish man from the brute. "These qualities not being manifest in proportion to the greatness of the intellect need not militate against the sequence of cause and effect, but, forever being accompanied by the power of abstract thought, it follows that the one is the cause of the other, as much as it follows that the substance is the cause of Freedom and Necessiti^. 101 the shadow. Au object may make a Large or small shadow, by virtue of its relation to light without in anywise increasing or diminishing its o-ttii size, but if the object bo removed alto- gether, the shadow will disappear with it ; so, when you deprive any creature of intellect, these attachments or dependencies — these intercurrent qualifications — so blindly relied upon for our guidance, Avill vanish, as the shadow vanishes upon the removal of the object. "Taking these fundamental principles for the basis of this argument, it remains to be seen how, and by what means these distinguishing characteristics should be studied, in order to arrive at the truth. By comparison and illustration we often add force to argument, and bring minds in accord by citation of facts, which, left to ponder over dogmatic assertion, might forever remain at variance. In this connection, the historical facts of the Spanish invasion of Peru afford a striking illus- tration of the position taken. "When Pizarro sailed for the JN'ew World in 1532, he took Avith him some cavalry soldiers. The Peruvians had never seen a horse, and judging from appearances, or reasoning from im- pressions received through the sense of vision, came to the erro- neous conclusion that the mounted soldier and his horse consti- tuted one individual— a sort of multiple centaur, or eolipilic dragon — a mistake so fatal that by availing themselves of it, the Spaniards, with less than 180 men, subjugated an empire, not of barbarians, but an empire of men far advanced in civ- ilization. Peru was then the Sirius of native American splen- dor. Their monuments show what they were. One of their roads was 1,500 miles long and about forty feet broad, and of solid masonry over the marshes. Agriculture had attained to such perfection that the mountain sides were terraced, and irri- gated by gigantic canals and aqueducts, on a grander scale than that of Egypt; and so great was their industry that the Peru- vians had gardens and orchards above the clouds ; and on ranges still higher flocks of llamas, in regions bordering on the limits of perpetual snow. In the center of this magnificent realm, their pontiff, or high priest, lived in a style of regal splendor unknown to the monarchies of Europe. 102 The Lantern of Diogenes. "There were enough more of the Peruvians to have walked up in a body, without arms, and choked each Spaniard to death on the spot. How, then, do we account for this wholesale slaughter and subjugation of a nation by a mere handful of an enemy in no wise their superiors physically ? "Another example, leading to the same disastrous result, occurring in our own time, in our own State, from totally different causes, involving the same psychological principles, and requiring the same reasoning for its solution. I quote from the New Yorh Herald of January 3, 1883 : " 'WHAT FRIGHT CX'E DO. " 'Our special dispatch from Raleigh tells of an accident by which eighteen men lost their lives, all because of a groundless fright. They saw a little water in the bottom of a boat, imagined they were sinking, and then huddled together in such a manner as would have compelled the soundest boat of similar construction to go down. Fright is the greatest danger to which human nature ever is sub- jected.' "In both these examples, the action or conduct of men — in the one case, of a whole nation, in the other, of a party crossing a river — was the effect of causes operating through sense im- pressions conveyed to the nerve centers ; and, in the case of the Peruvians, leading to a chain of reasoning, logical enough in itself, but in the boating party producing automatic or reflex actions in no way connected with the understanding. The reasoning faculties of the drowned men played no part in the tragedy. The reasoning powers of the Peruvians were active, vigorous and logical. Fright was not the danger to which they were subjected. They had not only never seen a horse, but they had never seen nor heard the discharge of a firearm. They imagined the Spaniards to be a superior race, closely allied to the gods. Their intuitive perceptions misleading, no amount of right reasoning could bridge the gap, and the fatal mistake of reasoning from false premises led to their destruction, the same as fright or any other influence acting independently of the intellect. Freedom and Necessiti^. 103 "Josephiis tells a sad story of moral debasement in a wealthy and beautiful Roman lady from these same influences, as it Avere, reasoning from false facts. No man will be hardy enough to claim that the Peruvians purposely threw away their lives and their Country; no one will accuse the boating party of com- mitting suicide deliberately, by sinking their boat ; hardly any will say, after reading the story, that Paulina lost her virtue through moral turpitude. How, then, do we account for these occurrences ? The pertinent question is, could they help it ? Can men help what they do now? Follow the argument and decide for yourself." 104 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTEE YII. FREEDOM AND NECESSITY.— Continwed. "My dear friend," said tlie traveler, "I already perceive the drift of your discourse. I labored in that vineyard for many dreary, unhappy years. The fniit I raised was Dead Sea fruit. The wine press of intellectual pride can only yield a lifeless and insipid juice. It yields not the wine that maketh glad the heart of man." "Our purpose," replied the teacher, "is to reason logically from known facts, and Vhile the premises stand firm, it is impossible to shape the conclusion' ; therefore, to him who would see the end without consulting the means, the problem will remain unsolved. !N^o pet theory is arraigned here upon trial. iN'o force of the advocate t\^11 be expended upon a false issue ; no cross-examination of the witness to confuse the jury. This inquiry does not seek to discover the origin of man upon the earth. Opinionated conceptions and imaginary 'proposi- tions, together with that mode of reasoning which deduces new or miknown propositions from previous propositions which are known or evident, will be rigidly excluded. Whether man is an evolution in a natural way from a speck of protoplasm, or whether he is a metamorphosed ape, or a product of direct manipulation from the hands of his Maker, will not be dis- cussed. The analysis will be from facts, patent and demon- strable, and we shall endeavor to express our thoughts in intel- ligible language, and maintain that syllogistic form of reason- ing which amounts to demonstration. "First of all, then, man finds himself here, a substantial reality, confronted with himself. How he first got here no one knows, and what he really is has been a stumbling block from the remotest ages. How he gets here now is well known, and his real status in the world ought to be kno^^ni. His begin- ning is very small; a speck of organic matter endowed with that mysterious principle — life. Chemical analysis has divided it into elements and found nothing but matter. Chemical anal- ysis can find nothing more in man. Life is a free gift to every individual on earth, and what we know of it is absolutely noth- Freedom and Necessity. 105 iug, except that we find it in certain couibinations of matter. LTiider circumstances favorable to man's reproduction, this vital force, in company vnth chemical combinations, keeps the world populated. Under adverse circumstances, myriads upon my- riads perish every hour without any attempt to grow. Nur- tured in his mother's womb, the preordained individual grows, like anything else grows, by natural laws; and, at the time of maturity, conies into the world and breathes, and is a live baby. This is all we know about it, and this is enough for us to know. Let us study this baby — this future man — and see what it is. "Whoever has obseiwed a new-born babe has seen a little bag of flesh and bones, acted upon by external influences and within itself absolutely helpless. Its heart beats and its lungs take in and throw out air. Its actions are all involuntaiy. Its coun- tenance is a blank, and it is many weeks before it can even look at you. It comes into the world Avithout its knowledge or con- sent, and is what it is from sheer necessity, so far as it is con- cerned. One comes in a hovel, another in a palace ; one is boni a king, another a slave; one black, another w^hite; one male, another female ; one blind, another deaf and dumb ; one is born a genius, another an idiot ; one is bom a Mohammedan, another a Christian; one a pagan, another a Jew. And thus it is, dis- criminations are made before birth in which the individual has no choice, and which man in his maturity cannot circumvent. The baby is an effect of causes outside of and beyond itself, and as no effect has the power to change or modify the cause or causes which produced it, so the human infant is what it is, and has no power within itself to be anything else. The most uncompromising stickler for free will and responsibility in man will never so far abuse his reason as to assert that a new-born babe with its first breath is responsible for its own existence, or has the power to be otherwise than just what it is. The Hottentot, bom under the scorching sun of Central Africa, or the Eskimo brat of the frozen ISTorth, can neither, within them- selves, change their relative positions; the one becoming heir to the throne of China, or the other a pet of King Edward. ISTapoleon Bonaparte was virtually a cavalry soldier in the Cor- sican Revolution before his birth. His mother carried him about in the saddle, following the fortunes of her soldier bus- 106 The Lantern of Diogenes. band, and only went home when the inevitable decrees of Na- ture forced her to her bed. Bonaparte was born a soldier, as much so as a negro is bom black; and he had no more to do with it than the African has to do with his birth. Milton, Shakespeare, Burns, and Byron came into the world ^vitll the seeds of poesv deeply implanted in their souls, and had no more to do with the quality of their brains than they had to do with the color of their skins. Color, sex, time and place of birth, quality of brain, vital force, mental and physical peculiarities, are free gifts to every individual, like life, and Avhether we are thankful, or feel as if we are slighted, does not alter the case. The born slave may have the seeds of freedom so deeply rooted in his nature that in after life he may rebel against his condition, but that does not alter his position as an infant. The illegitimate child may forever feel an inward twinge on account of his birth, but the fact is unalterable. These propo- sitions seem to be intuitive, and while they are not susceptible of demonstration, it is to be doubted whether any sane person Avill gainsay them. Back, then, to the infant with its first inspiration of air. Let it be a Jew or Gentile, male or female, of whatever nationality, it starts in the world from causes of which it is the effect. These causes have operated to produce this particular babe and no other. It is endowed with qualities peculiar to itself, and surrounded by influences more or less different from that of any other child. These influences begin to operate fi'oni the moment of its birth, and act as causes to shape the destiny of the future man. Spreading with each day, and widening with every year of life, the branching out of these material and psychical influences operates in an un- broken chain of cause and effect to produce men as they now are ; and, as the circle widens and the mazes become more puz- zling, the human mind is lost in the entangled Aveb, and having no clue to the windings of the labyrinth, we hastily and with- out reason afiirm that man is free. To untangle this web is the task now before us. It may appear presumptuous in a country pedagogue to attack a fortress which has withstood the assaults of the most powerful intellectual batteries which the world has produced, but if you are bold enough to think for yourself, and your brain is healthy enough to digest a hearty Freedom and Necessity. 107 meal, you will find food here for reflection, and you will honor God and humanity by the exercise of those faculties which the All-Father has so freely bestowed. "To place ourselves in the position of the infant being impos- sible, we can only judge of its feelings by the effect of its sur- rounding influences and the stimulus of the forces necessary to continue its life. The sudden transition from pre-natal to post- natal life is, perhaps, the greatest shock to which the human frame ever is subject-ed. With the first breath the heart as- siunes new duties, the circulation of the blood seeks new chan- nels, and the sudden ciy is an indication of the profound im- pression made upon the nerve centers by the great physiological change it has undergone. But tliis is Nature's method, and nature is always equal to her work. The new state of things works harmoniously, and perhaps the first urgent sensation the child ever feels is that of hunger. It is hungry because its stomach is empty, and its supply of nutrition must henceforth come from external sources. Up to now it had been nourished by the blood of its mother ; after now it must eat and drink for itself, and make its own blood. "Dip your hand into cold water and suddenly flirt it on the child's face or body, and it will jump and gasp. This jump is entirely involuntary, and is caused by what is teniied reflex action of the nervous system. It is common to all animals, and follows man through his whole life. All the actions of the child for weeks and months are reflex, and most of the actions of men come under the same head, as will be sho^vn further on. At birth, it is doubtful whether any of the special senses are capable of receiving impressions save that of touch. Hearing, seeing, smelling and even taste are developed by degrees, for the infant will suck anything placed in its mouth, and swallow poison as readily as food. The development of these senses is a matter of growth, like other functions, and takes place earlier in some children than others. "Along with physical development come those psychological changes, following each other in rapid succession — like life, like death — many of them evanescent, some longer lived, and all making up the sum total of human life. Here is the beginning of those complications which grow with the growth of the 108 The Lantern of Diogenes. child, and entangle themselves in such a network of cause and effect, that they blind the understanding, and invoke the aid of the passions to solve the great enigma of life. When we look upon man as a growth, an unfolding of a never-ending series of cause and effect, we shall see him as he is — a necessary consequence of inborn, gratuitous and fundamental elements, modified by his individual surroundings. ''The first awakening of the intellectual faculties is an in- definite point in the evolution of man, and cannot be stated by rule. No one knows when the first gleam of reason flits across the inexperienced brain of the child. Like the budding of a tree, or the unfolding of a flower, it comes in time, and is has- tened or retarded by the conditions of life and surroundings of the individual. Up to five years of age the world is a pano- rama of ever-changing views, and this period is one continuous scene of bewilderment. Having no experience, it can have no knowledge, and being without instinct, it is more helpless than the brute. How? Why? What? is ever upon its lips, and the interminable questionings of a young child at once betoken its ignorance and its eagerness for knowledge. Incapable yet of performing those higher functions of thought, the young brain is beset with strange and weird fancies, grotesque and shapeless images, crowded pellmell into one chaotic mass of wonder — the legitimate effect of novelty upon ignorance. "Who is it that does not remember the futile efforts of his own immature reason to arrange and bring into proper adjust- ment the multitude of impressions received through external sources ? Who that is able now to harmonize and reconcile the workings of that least of all understood organs^ — the brain ! Lifetime imprints are indelibly stamped upon the memory of every one during this period of mental growth, and, in after life, we look back with astonishment and wonder at our childish fancies. "The wonder ceases if we look at the naked fact and remem- ber that something cannot come from nothing — that we must have something to think with before we can think. Probably no greater error ever seized hold on the helpless ignorance of childhood than my own satisfaction when I discoA^ered the cause of rumbling thimder. It would be ludicrous and incred- Freedom and Necessity. 109 ible, if my experience was not confirmed by liundrecls of brighter minds than my own. From two outside impressions, one through sight and the other hearing, I decided that rumbling thunder was caused by rotten apples rolling over each other on a floor in the sky. From that day to this, I never hear low, muttering thunder in the rear of a summer shower, but I think of rotten apples. It occurred in this way, and is among my earliest recollections : "On a sultry afternoon, in the latter part of summer, one of those typical thunderclouds loomed up in the west, and rolling and rumbling like a huge, misshapen monster, it soon enveloped the whole heavens in its mantle of darkness ; and, after dally- ing with the fears of childish ignorance and creating a flutter in the domestic household, it rolled away in the distance, grum- bling and growling like a disappointed fiend. Being naturally disposed toward the marvelous, such sportings of the elements had a powerful effect upon my imagination, and the most vul- nerable point of attack had been fear. Dreading to see more than to hear the breaking in of the storm, I shrank away and hid in the garret. Some apples had been stored there, and my feeble efforts at reasoning, with my limited means to reason from, which, all told, amounted to the two impressions — sight of the half-decayed apples lying on the floor, and hearing the distant peals of tlumder as the cloud went away — led to the conclusion above stated; false though it be, yet the logical sequence of the premises taken, and the power of the instru- ment or medium of thought. Could it have been otherwise? Can I get rid of that impression to-day by an effort of the will ? Why does this phantom, this childish fancy, haunt the mind's eye whenever I hear muttering thunder? I know now that there are no apples in the sky, no floor for them to roll upon. I may have no theory as to the cause of thunder. My reason- ing faculties, having gained strength, may remain in abeyance and wait, may be open to conviction, tolerant, patient, and satisfied never to know the cause of thunder. Then it was dif- ferent. Nothing would satisfy me but an explanation. Rot- ten apples would explain it, and now, even now in my maturity, this picture, which is a mere stain upon the mental index, defies time, defies reason; obtiiides itself on every occasion, and A^nck- 110 The Lantern of Diogenes. edly asserts tliat rotten apples is the cause of tlmnder. Au- otlier impression, no less enduring, came from sight alone. The old family Bible had a picture of Satan chained to a ring in the floor. Despite of reason, age and experience, whenever I think of this 'auld Hangie,' his forked tail, cloven hoof, and dragon's head invariably present themselves. This picture is another indelible stain that nothing can wash away. There is no mystery here. The intellect of man has solved the problem. "When we remember that man, in the scale of creation, stands highest because of this intellect; and when we look into the sacred books and find that the whole Godhead was called into requisition when his creation was first contemplated, we need not mangel at his capabilities. And when we find him investigating himself with an eye single to the discovery of truth, and making sacrifices even of life to gain knowledge, we honor the Maker by giving honor to the image. And when we study this image with the power which God has given us, unin- fluenced by the gaudy trappings by which it is surrounded, we approach the Throne, and see God through the intellect of man. "This mysteiy is solved by the laws which place mind over matter. Fancy with her painted wings may flit before the steady gaze of reason, but she can neither dazzle nor mislead. The registering power of mind, with the spectral gleam of memory, fills the book of life and frees the imagination. Ro- manticism in religious speculations will pale in the glare of scientific investigation, and man will, at last, be freed from fear. The possibilities of intellectual achievements are scarcely dreamed of by the most advanced thinkers, yet in no depart- ment is more progress being made than in that of religious thought. The time Avill come, and is rapidly approaching, when the human image will recognize its original, when the true relationship between God and man will establish a divine symphony upon earth, when discord will cease and the millen- nium will become an established fact. But speculating on future possibilities not coming within the scope of this inquiry, we turn back to the young child and follow it, step by step and day by day, seeking to know what it is, stripping it of all mys- tery and analyzing the causes which operate to produce such Freedom and Necessity. Ill complicated effects. Having traced it from its starting point — a mere speck — through causes over which it can have no con- trol, up to its power of receiving external iiupressions, and hav- ing found it a pliable, unresisting mass of matter, modeled and moulded by forces external to itself, and having found these causes to become more coiuplicated with each day of its exist- ence, we approach the period when, without the most steady vigilance and comprehensive grasp of our reasoning powers, we shall become bewildered and shrink back into the shadows, leaving the bright gleam of the intellect to waste its rays in the propagation of error. "That period of growth in which the intellectual faculties begin to play a part in the economy of man is one of peculiar interest, and if the thread is broken here, Ave shall ever after- ward grope in the dark." 112 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER yill. THE SOUL. ''However successful the attempt may have been to cast ridicule upon the modern theory- of evolution, and however harsh it may sound to some ears, we know that the child is not ifhow made, but grows. 'We see the mind, the affections, the soul (if you will) gradually arising, forming, as the body waxes, sym- pathizing in all the permanent changes and temporary varia- tions of the body, diseased with its diseases, enfeebled by its weakness, disordered by dyspepsia or suppressed gout, utterly metamorphosed past recognition by cerebral affection, hopelessly deranged by a spicula of bone penetrating the brain, actually suppressed by a vascular effusion or a cranial depression, wearied as the body ages, and gi'adually sinking into imbecility as the body dies away in helplessness.' From birth to five years of age includes a period in wliich the void between a mass of helpless matter, and a sentient, rational creature is filled. Some- thing by some means has entered the body that was not there before, or at least did not manifest itself. This something has been in dispute from time immemorial, and is as much an un- settled matter now as ever. It is spoken of as the Soul, and what is exactly meant, it is difficult to determine. We are ac- customed to speak of the soul, its immortality, its pleasures and pains, its residence in the body during life and its departure at death. If we look at a stillborn child we have an indescrib- able sensation of work unperformed — of negative result — of something left out of the contract. The idea of a soul in any way connected with a child that has never breathed is not and cannot be entertained. How different Avhen we look upon the corpse of a friend ! 'The impression made is indefinable, and is not the result of any conscious process of thought that that body, quite unchanged to the eye, is not and never was your friend.' Something has departed which was intimately con- nected with it, and which came to it after birth. This, I ap- prehend, is the almost universal thought and feeling in regard to this vexed subject. Here, as in other matters, the shadows obscure the light, and the anthem of hope robs a cold and merci- The Soul. 113 less philosophy of its truth. Indeed, the force of all appeals to sustain this view is directed, not to the understanding, but to the subordinate and untrustworthy offshoots of the reason- ing faculty. So prominently is this set forth, even by good reasoners, that I may be pardoned for quoting at length from the great expounder of biblical lore — Adam Clark. 'Let us figure to ourselves, for we may innocently do it, the state of the divine nature previous to the fonnation of the human be- ing. Infinitely happy, because infinitely perfect and self-suffi- cient, the Supreme Being could feel no wants; to him noth- ing was wanting, nothing needful. As the "good man is satis- fied from himself," from the contemplation of his conscious rectitude; so, comparing infinitely great with small things, the divine mind was supremely satisfied with the possession and contemplation of its own unlimited excellencies. From un- mixed, unsullied goodness sprang all the endlessly varied at- tributes, perfections, and excellencies of the divine nature; or, rather, in this principle all are founded, and of this eacb is an especial modification. Benevolence is, however, an affection inseparable from goodness. God, the all-sufficient, knew that he could, in a certain way, communicate influences from his own perfections ; but the being must resemble himself to whom this communication could be made. His benevolence, therefore, to communicate and diffuse his own infinite happiness, we may naturally suppose, led him to form the purpose of creating in- telligent beings to whom such communications could be made. He, therefore, in the exuberance of his eternal goodness, pro- jected the creation of man, whom he formed in his own image, that he might be capable of those communications. Here, then, was a motive worthy of eternal goodness, the desire to com- municate its own blessedness; and here was an object worthy of the divine wisdom and power, the making an intelligent creature a transcript of his own eternity, just less than God; and endowing him with powers and faculties of the most ex- traordinary and comprehensive nature. I do not found these observations on the supposition of certain excellencies possessed by man previous to his fall ; I found them on what he is now. I found them on his vast and comprehensive understanding; 1 14 The Lantern of Diogenes. on liis astonisliing powers of ratiocination ; on the extent and endless variety of his imagination or inventive faculty ; and I see the proof and exercise of these in his invention of arts and sciences. Though fallen from God, naturally degraded and de- praved, he has not lost his natural powers ; he is yet capable of the most exalted degrees of knowledge in all natural things ; and his "knowledge is power." Let us take a cursory view of what he has done and of what he is capable: He has numbered the stars of heaven; he has demonstrated the planetary revo- lutions and the laws by which they are governed; he has ac- counted for every apparent anomaly in the various affections of the heavenly bodies; he has measured their distances, de- termined their solid contents, and weighed the sun! His re- searches in the three kingdoms of nature, the animal, the vege- table, and the mineral, are, for their variety, correctness, and importance of the highest consideration. The laws of matter, of organized and unorganized beings, and those chemical prin- ciples by which all the operations of nature are conducted, have been investigated by him Avith the utmost success. He has shown the father of the rain, and who has begotten the drops of dew; he has accounted for the formation of the snow, the hailstones, and the ice ; and demonstrated the laAvs by which the tempest and tornado are governed ; he has taken the thun- der from the clouds; and he plays with the lightnings of heaven ! He has invented those grand subsidiaries of life, the lever, the screw, the wedge, the inclined plane and the pul- ley: and by these means multiplied his power beyond concep- tion ; he has invented the telescope, and by this instrument has brought the hosts of heaven almost into contact Avith the earth. By his engines he has acquired a sort of omnipotency over inert matter, and produced effects w^hicli, to the unin- structed mind, present all the appearances of supernatural agency. By his mental energy he has sprung up into illimitable space and has seen and described those worlds which an in- finite skill has planned, and an infinite benevolence sustains. He has proceeded to all describable and assignable limits, and has conceived the most astonishing relations and affections of space, place, and vacuity; and yet, at all these limits, he has felt himself unlimited; and still can imagine the possibility of The Soul. 115 worlds and beings, natural and intellectual, in endless variety beyond the whole. Here is a most extraordinary power; de- scribe all known or conjectured beings, and he can imagine more; point out all the good that even God has promised, and he can desire still greater enjoyments. Of no creature but man is it said that it was made in the image and likeness of God. Now, as the divine Being is infinite, he is neither limited by parts nor definable by passions ; therefore he can have no corporeal image after which he made the body of man. The image and likeness must be intellectual; his mind, his soul, must have been formed after the nature and perfections of his God. The human mind is still endowed with most extraor- dinary capacities ; it was more so when issuing out of the hands of its creator. The text tells us he was the work of Eloliim, the divine plurality, marked here more distinctly by the plural nouns Us and Our; and, to show that he was the masterpiece of God's creation, all the persons in the Godhead are represented as united in council and effort to produce this astonishing creature.' "This beautiful tribute to the greatness of the human un- derstanding, by a profound thinker and honest seeker after truth, only illustrates the mazes into which the reasoning facul- ties become entangled. by studying man in his maturity, and de- ducing conclusions from assumed postulates. The language of the text itself is faulty, and, 'well is it for us if we always re- member the difference between what is said and what is meant, and if, while we pity the heathen for worshiping stocks and stones, we are not ourselves kneeling down before the frail im- ages of human fancy.'* "God, in fact, in its true sense, is a word which admits of no plural, and changes its meaning as soon as it assumes the teraiination of that number. f "The EJohim, under the ruling of this Christian philologist, would revert to the mythical. If language is thus misleading, how are we to know Avhat the sacred volume really teaches? Is it not better to trust to our own rational conclusions than to gorge ourselves with the helpless jargon of unknown tongues? *Muller. Science of Language, Vol. II, page 465. \lbid., page 438. 116 The Lantern of Diogenes. "]^ow, of any soul that is a distinct and separate entity, apart from tlie conscious mental and spiritual life; a soul that a man has, and that can be saved, apart from his mental and moral condition, according to the teachings of the popular revivalists ; a soul that is in a man and yet not simply and wholly him- self — of such a soul I must confess that I know nothing Avhat- ever. And if any one is disposed to be troubled on this point in connection with evolution, perhaps it is well to remind him that he will find no relief in Genesis. Moses knows nothing of any such soul. The Hebrew word for the soul of Adam, and for the souls, or life, of the animals is precisely the same. When it is written 'The Elohim breathed into his nostrils and he be- came a living soul,' it would be just as correct to say, 'He be- came alive, or a living being or animal.' There is no hint that his soul was any different from that of any other creature's soul. This does not touch the question of the nature of the soul or of inunortality ; it only shows that there is no more light in Genesis than there is in evolution. JSTow, if the soul is an entity, and capable of independent life after death — in other words, if it be immortal — it either had a beginning or it existed always. If it is a creation, if there ever was a time when it did not exist, then it must eventually come to an end. That Avhieh has a beginning must have an ending. It is im- possible for the human mind to conceive of an eternity in the future that is not an eternity in the past. And all Scripture bears witness to the human intellect that the whole creation will eventually come to an end. Philosophy and the Scriptures both teach that the creation is finished, and the multitudinous forms in Avhich matter is seen is only a manifestation of the endless variety of change that indestructible material is for- ever assuming. We know that in the birth of a human being there is no creation of a new body; it is only old matter in a new dress, and if the soul is a separate entity, created especially for each birth, there must be a period in life when the soul enters the body; and if each body has a new soul created especially for its habitation, then, when the body dies the soul is homeless. But if the soul has existed from all eternity, its residence in the body gives us no remembrance of the fact, and logically speaking Ave can have no knowledge of its future The Soul. 117 existence. If it be an emanation from God, it must go back to God at the dissolution of the body, and personal identity is lost again. To separate mind from matter and still recognize its existence is an impossible task, a thing of which there is no satisfactoiy evidence. Pope Leo the Tenth caused this ques- tion to be discussed pro and con, before him, and concluded at last with that verse of Cornelius Gallus, 'Et redit in nihilum, quod fiiit ante nihil.' " The pious itinerant listened to the long discourse of his host with mingled feelings of sadness and impatience. He could see the workings of an honest mind in the throes of an abortive labor and he felt a pang of melancholy as he con- templated the recusancy of intellectual pride. He saw in the person before him one, not wilfully blind, but with eyes, and seeing not; and having ears, hearing not. The emotions, the passions, sentiment ; the affections, both moral and sympathetic ; love, hope, despair, and all the endless branches, leaves and blossoms of the stately, time-honored, majestic tree of life had been crushed and buried under the iron heel of reason. Here was an intellectual machine pure and simple. The manhood had been squeezed out of the man, and all that remained was a mummified burlesque of the original. To contend with such a man was like working a sum in quadratic equations; but the traveler invoked the aid of St. Peter, and girded up the loins of his mind for the contest. "To such an one as yourself," he replied, "the reasoning faculty is the sum total of value in the complicated fittings of that multifarious organ — the mind. You utterly ignore the value of those others which you call 'dependents,' 'subordinate and untrustworthy offshoots of the reasoning faculty'; 'gaudy trappings by which it is surrounded,' etc. This, of course, includes the emotions, the moral and religious faculties, personal and sympathetic affections, and love. You would strip the tree of branches, leaves, blossoms and fruit. You would destroy that which God has made and substitute an intellectual monster — a cold, heartless, calculating machine, de- void of soul, and call it a man. Be fair. Go back and acknowl- edge the premises. Build your argument upon all the facts. Take love, for instance, and analyze and explain its workings. 118 The Lantern of Diogenes. The German mind, Avitli all its infidel tendencies, lias paused here and asked for more light. It is unable to make a mechani- cal solution of the wonders of this passion. Haeckel, even, who denies the existence of God, is at a loss to account for love. His theory of the universe fails to satisfy him of its origin and scope. He says : ^A\\ other passions that agitate the human breast are in their combined effects far less powerful than love, which inflames the senses and fools the understanding. On the one hand, we gratefully glorify love as the source of the most splendid creations of art ; of the noblest productions of poetry, of plastic art and of music ; we reverence in it the most power- ful factor in human civilization, the basis of family life, and, consequently, of the development of the state. On the other hand, we fear in it the devouring flame which drives the unfor- tunate to ruin, and which has caused more misery, vice, and. crime than all the other evils of the human race together.' "He says that here, 'supernatural causation seems to mock every natural exj^lanation.' And you, in your blind zeal, would expunge this power from the human breast. Subject it to the frozen midnight of reason, and ask it whence, and whither? Is there any reason in protecting the aged and the infirm? Are the hopelessly insane fed, clothed, and nursed from any deduc- tions of the reasoning faculty? Why should we shelter and cherish the imbecile, the deaf, dumb, and the blind ? Why give to the poor? Are the great public charities of every civilized country the outcome of logic ? Is reason the image of God in man, or is it love ? The Bible says, 'God is love,' but it nowhere says. He is reason. Of course, your not recognizing the Bible as authority, this statement will count for little, but you cannot doubt that this passion has as great an influence over human conduct as reason; and, were it left to a vote of the Avhole hu- man race, I question very much whether love or reason would be voted out. As to the importance of the two in regard to the continuance of the human race, there can be but one answer. Man might continue upon the earth without reason, but, without love, the present generation would be the last. As an affection of the soul, this passion is one of the most, if not the most im- portant factor in that manifold creation; and instead of being subsidiary to reason, as you would place it, reason is more often the servitor of love. The Soul 119 "Your criticism of Dr. Clark in the quotation you make is more unjust than unkind. While you ignore every faculty of the soul except the thinking principle, Dr. Clark, in his beauti- ful thoughts on God and man, combines in the happiest man- ner the three most essential qualities of an intellectual being; and, allowing each to play its legitimate part, brings the finite into view with the infinite, and truly honors God by giving honor to the image. Reason, Imagination, and Love combined are the faculties which place man so far above the brute. As the hub, spokes, and rim make the wheel, so these three faculties form the soul ; all being equally essential to its completion. Dr. Clark's tribute to the greatness of the human understand- ing is simply a recognition of the soul in its entirety, and any attempt to grasp its substance is as futile as it is absurd. To deny its existence because of our inability to bottle it up, or hold it in the hand, is on a par with the denial of electricity, the sun's rays, or the flame from a gas jet. Imponderable, im- material substances exist with as much certainty as iron or stone. "The phenomenology of mind is the only mental science we may study. Its essence, its substance is too ethereal for our senses, yet its phenomena prove its substance, as phenomena can no more proceed from phenomena than hybrids can pro- ceed from hybrids. There is no conflict here between science and religion, and rightly understood, philosophy and the word of God must go hand in hand ; the first being only an under- standing and interpretation of the laws of the universe, the lat- ter an averment of those laws. The existence of ideas alone, taught in the philosophy of dogmatic skepticism, proves that a spiritual universe does exist, and in this universe the soul of man has a place. "If Dr. Clark's elaboration of biblical theology is a mere jar- gon of Avords ; if evolution be true and the fall of man a myth ; if mind, spirit, soul, be stricken from the language of thought, or rather be defined as a John Doe or Richard Roe, then Ve are of all men the most miserable.' "Man is not what God made him. "Were the Scriptures silent on the subject, all reason and common sense would at once de- clare that it is impossible that the infinitely perfect God could 120 The Lantern of Diogenes. make a morally imperfect, much, less a corrupt and sinful being. Yet God is the maker of man, and he tells us that he made him in his own image and in his own likeness ; it follows, then, that man has fallen from that state of holiness and perfection in which he was created." Phenomena. 121 CHAPTER IX. PHENOMENA, The old schoolmaster was not only astonished at the ready wit and logical argument of his guest, but he was pleased to observe the enthusiasm with which he entered into and main- tained the defense of his position. With the view of drawing him out still further, and also to maintain his own ground, he replied as follows : "The same difficulties present themselves and lead to subter- fuges incompatible with philosophical inquiry, whenever con- clusions are attempted to be drawn from assumed postulates. "A recapitulation here may be of service in elucidating the untenable position you have taken. In the first place, you assume that God, by an act of creation, brought the world into existence, with all the trees and plants and animals, and saw that his work was good ; and in the plenitude of his power, and the infinite benevolence of his own eternal goodness, he formed the purpose of creating intelligent beings to whom he might communicate his own happiness. JSTotwithstanding his attri- butes of infinity as regards power and wisdom, he is represented, alone, as hardly able to accomplish his self-appointed task; but in a council of the 'Divine Plurality,' whatever that may be, this masterpiece of his work — this astonishing creature, man — was made, and made in his o\\m image and likeness, a transcript of his own eternity. If man is not what God made him, and not what God intended him to be, it argues incompetency on the part of God, and notwithstanding the deliberations of the Triune Council, in which the entire Godhead is represented as exhausted, the work became one of surprise and chagrin, more than was anticipated; in a certain sense on an equality with its Maker and capable of thwarting and nullifying his designs. In Mrs. Shelley's uncanny romance, the horrible monster of her imagination crops out as an exaggerated parody on the first and second chapters of Genesis." ISTo words of scoffing, no speech of blasphemy could have ex- cited a keener pang in the breast of our unhappy traveler than a comparison of all that is loathsome — the horrid remnants of the 122 The Lantern of Diogenes. churchyard and dissecting-room, the Frankenstein monster of a morbid and diseased imagination — to the perfect work of God, the creation of man. While this man of thought, of worldly wisdom, of intellectual pride ; this octogenarian with one foot in the grave, who had studied every page of the great book of nature, and arrived at conclusions at variance with the religious world, thought nothing of his inelegant adumbration, his companion was mortified, shocked ; stunned as with the blow of a cudgel. His spiritual nature revolted at the coarse- ness of the simile, but remembering that every faculty of the soul, save reason, was excluded from this conversation, he checked his emotions and proceeded with his reply in the fol- lowing manner : "It appears that the difficulties in your way of comprehend- ing immaterial forces are as real and as blinding to a knowl- edge of the truth as it is for you to understand the difference between the vacillating opinions of men and the written word of God. A phenomenon can only exist or become manifest, as the result of substance. A shadow is a phenomenon caused by light and an opaque object. Growth, in the animal and vege- table kingdoms, is a phenomenon of material substances. Physi- cal pain is also a phenomenon of matter ; but mental pain ! what is that ? Material substance is the cause of toothache, but can material substance cause remorse of conscience? One is as much a phenomenon as the other, and may be equally as griev- ous. If substance and phenomena stand in the relation of cause and effect, how are we to account for phenomena in no way connected with matter? Good, evil, right, wrong, love, hate, revenge, forgiveness, affection, gratitude, etc., being mere ab- stractions, can only be classed with phenomena, and, having no relation with matter, must necessarily be the phenomena of something besides matter. Electricity is, perhaps, no more an entity than the soul of man, but the phenomena of electricity attest its substance. We have the same right to believe that an immaterial principle or soul exists in the human body as we have to believe in the law of gravitation or the forces of chemical affinity. The evidences in favor of all are precisely the same — effects produced. There is this difference, however, between these forces of nature and the force that operates on the human Phenomena. 1 23 organism : tlie first operates always in the same way, under the same circumstances, while the last acts of its own accord, being influenced only by its OAvn will. This is what made it possible for man to take a step backwards and swerve from the line of duty marked out by his Creator. This by no means invalidates the power of God, but rather exalts his omnipotency, showing that he had the power to create something like unto himself. In order to show to man that this delegated power of free agency was a free gift to himself, the Creator placed him in the world under certain restrictions. ISTo command was given him but what he was perfectly able to keep. Yet God gave him the power to break the law, which he did to the ruin of himself and all his posterity. The fall was no disappointment to God, but so utterly confused was man at his own folly that he attempted to hide, and excused himself by saying he was tempted. For this act of disobedience the whole human race was cursed, the ground was cursed, and every living thing on earth was cursed, and the curse stands to this day a living witness to the truth of the "Word. 'In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children' was said to the woman, and if there was no other evidence to prove the truth of the fall and the curse, this is sufficient ; for science is utterly inadequate to explain the pains of childbirth. For a healthy female in a perfectly normal process to be tortured with the excruciating miseries of the damned is inexplicable, except upon the theory of the fall. ISTo other physiological process is attended with pain, and this pain can be of no possible advan- tage to the parturient female. "The most ultra skeptic cannot doubt that God (or the forces of Nature, if he prefers it) could have made the act of parturi- tion painless, like digestion or the beating of the heart. For all other pains to which the animal economy is subject there is an adequate cause, a justifiable and pathological reason; for this pain science is a sealed book; physiology is dumb and pathology has no answer. There is no other reason under heaven given, save that in Genesis, and that man must be blind, indeed, who refuses the only answer to a known fact. That this curse extends to the lower animals is evident for the same reason. No one who ever witnessed the throes of labor in the brute can doubt that it is accompanied with pain. The pun- 124 The Lantern of Diogenes. ishment of infants is another inexplicable fact upon scientific grounds alone. That much of the pain, sickness and misery attached to the nursery is the result of carelessness and igno- rance no rational observer can doubt ; but no known law, or violation of a known law of nature, can account for idiots, monsters, and the maimed. Accident cannot come into the count ; chance is outside the pale of both science and theology. The law of hereditary transmission does not account for all the anomalies in nature, and, as you base your philosophy and theology upon facts, it behooves you to account for these and many other inexplicable things before you attach the stigma of falsehood to what a large part of the religious w^orld believes to be the written word of God." Mr. Eliot was never more in his element than when teach- ing, and the more learned his pupil, the more interest he felt in the lesson. On this occasion he began to perceive a gleam of light w^ay in the background of Dogmatic Theology, which he had long looked upon as a land of Cimmerian darkness. The boom of a signal in the depths, faint, yet distinct, fell upon his ear, as this mysterious stranger presented his facts and asked for explanations. A spiritual universe, shadowy and tenuous, began to flit in his mental atmosphere, and but for the aliena- tion incident to the teachings of men who make religion a trade, this filament of spiritual truth might have developed into a cable of hope, "Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast." Instead, however, of pursuing this signal, and following the luminous ray, he cast about for a "bushel" that he might hide what he termed a "candle of marsh gas." "Your reasoning," said he, "is too much in a circle, and pay- ing rather a domiciliary visit to the material philosophy, it savors more of quiddities than dialectics. I am a great be- liever in the material universe. / am a part of it. There may be a spiritual universe ; I do not deny it, but I know nothing of it ! There is electricity, but I know it not except in some way connected with matter. There is thought, there is truth, love, hate, revenge, affection, memory, even dreams ; but these must be matter in the shape of an organized entity, or they do not exist. Phenomena. 1 25 "The theologian harasses himself and all the world by his empty, miprovable theories — his vaporizings; sets up his dogmas to-day and changes them or knocks them down to-morrow; yet whilst he holds them, he is ready to burn or ostracize any and all men who do not assent to them. The student of the Big Bible, the universe, with its pages spread open for the study and research of all, can demonstrate as he goes, and that which he cannot yet understand and prove, he refuses to promulgate and demand of others to take for granted because he might simply think, hope, and believe so and so. The invisible and incorporeal forces, light, sound, electricity, attraction, repul- sion, etc., manifest themselves only in connection with material substance, and it is not susceptible of proof that these names indicate anything material or immaterial separate and distinct from the substances with which they are connected. Without an eye there is no light, without the ear no sound, without mat- ter no attraction, and without the conditions for its generation and accumulation, no manifestation of electricity. If mind, spirit, soul is to be compared with these forces, the logical sequence is irresistible — without a body, no spirit, no soul. Every attempt at reasoning carries you irresistibly to the Pan- theistic view, which supposes the human soul to be a part of the Deity, and I am not certain but that the Christian Bible teaches the same thing where it says : " 'Then shall the dnst return to the earth as it was : and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.' " 'Twas despair and disgust Avhich prompted Pope Leo the Tenth to dismiss his prelates with such biting sarcasm, after hearing their discussion on this overwrought and ill-treated sub- ject. 'Tis with kindred feelings of emptiness that the intel- lectual world, at this day, seeks a new philosophy. The human mind is so constituted as not to be satisfied with hopes alone, nor to be hopelessly crushed by fear. The popular teachings are little else than appeals to these two passions. Much is said in the pulpit and at religious meetings about the soul — of its pleasures, its pains, and its destiny. Ask one of the popular revivalists what the soul is, and his answer will be as unsatis- factory as his own conception of it. 126 The Lantern of Diogenes. "If we take a juicy peach and ask where it got its flavor, or a full-blown rose and ask whence its odor, or, if we look upon the fragrance of the rose as something which has come from afar off and gotten into the rose, or upon the flavor of the peach as an entity which bj some unaccountable means has come to the peach and incorporated itself in its substance, we shall rea- son about as satisfactorily as when we attempt to separate the soul from the body. If a green peach has any flavor it is like the latent heat of a lump of ice, and while the judgment of all men will agree that the ripening of the peach is the cause of its flavor, the proof can never be else than negative. The flavor may be something independent of the peach, and merely seeking the peach for its temporary home, to manifest itself for the benefit of whatever animal that chances to smell or eat it. When the peach decays or is eaten the flavor is gone, but we cannot by any process of ratiocination prove that it is annihilated. Immaterial things can only be studied from their manifesta- tions, and anything beyond is purely imaginary and gratuitous. If the stillborn child ever had a soul, the human mind is too dull to conceive of it; if the new-born babe, an hour or a day old, has a soul, we cannot perceive it unless we call its breath soul, and in that case reason would resort to ridicule, and shame the faith of a believer in witches. The vague concep- tions in regard to this all-important matter may be traced to the same causes which we find operating to delude the senses in studying man's physical nature. We study the soul in its maturity and hardly admit its existence until its environment becomes so inextricably entangled in the meshes of cause and effect that we lose the substance in the twilight of the shadows. When the peach begins to ripen it begins to have a flavor, when the child begins to grow it begins to have a soul, i. e., we begin to see a manifestation of it. IS^ow, as the soul Avaxes with the body, we will go back to the infant at its mother's breast and watch its development from babyhood to boyhood. As was pre- viously stated, this period is one continuous scene of bewilder- ment. It is a new life in a new world, surrounded by neAV ob- jects, and without capacity to form any ideas of what it sees, feels, or hears. It is as much a thing of necessity so far as it is concerned as a sprouted seed in a rich or poor soil. Its mother's Phenomena. 127 breast, a warm cradle, soap and water, colic and paregoric are about the principal things it comes in contact with for the first year of its existence. "It is influenced solely by its surroundings, and its first ideas are formed from materials which are so imperfect and untrue that it has to unlearn nearly all it ever learns in the first years of life. jN^ursery tales and ghost stories form the principal food upon which its brain is fed, and the imagination is culti- vated out of all proportion to any other faculty of the mind. These baleful influences operating upon a sensitive and plastic nature leave their imprints, and enter the list of causes to make men and women what they are. The young child being without experience, and its tender and immature brain being too feeble to form ideas, except of the simplest kind, it must needs be the sport of its surroundings and the projectile, as it were, of its own vitality and inborn essence. This vis vitw of each one im- pels it forward in a different track from that of its neighbor, though the external conditions of life be the same; and thus it is we see such a difference in children of the same parentage. One will be neat and tidy from the beginning, another slovenly. One will be all life and vivacity, another morose or taciturn. One will be the soul of honor and truth, another will not hesi- tate to prevaricate or speak an untruth. One will be prodigal, another penurious, one tender-hearted, another brutish, and so on. These inborn qualities are the result of causes which, if we undertake to trace them to their source, we shall never be able to stop this side of eternity. Every child born into the world is the offspring of some other child that has lived before it, and it would be a matter of impossibility for it to be here now if it had not descended by an unbroken chain of life through all the generations of the earth since the first pair was created. Before we conclude that any child can be other than just what it is, we shall have to give it power to undo the mighty workings of this universe, blot out the past, and sup- plant God." 128 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER X. RESPONSIBILITY. The impression made on the schoolmaster's guest by this last sally in defense of the material philosophy was not only un- pleasant, but exceedingly troublous. He disliked to think the issue was unfairly met, and was unwilling to admit that his friend had purposely evaded what he considered a very knotty point for the skeptical philosopher; still he felt disposed to remind him again of those phenomena incident to life on the earth, which it is impossible to associate with any form of mat- ter in the relation of cause and effect. And with the view of bringing him back to the point which he considered most diffi- cult of solution, he declared that : "We are so constituted that we rely on the uniformity of nature's laws, and, therefore, believe that they will operate in the future as they have operated in the past. This constitu- tional propensity is wisely given, fitting us to shape our course in the world; and, for all the purposes for which it was given, it does not deceive us, but there are limits within which the propensity must be restrained. A child asks the cause of some- thing which he notices, and when we have answered, he asks, ^What is the cause of that?' and when, in answering his suc- cessive inquiries, we have led his mind up to God as a First Cause, he asks, 'Who made God?' we may very wisely tell him that God is self -existent ; but this means nothing more than that his inquisitive philosophy must stop here, having reached its utmost boimds. Now, whether we can metaphysically ac- count for it or not, there is a propensity in the human mind to regard each moral agent as a sort of original source of action, somewhat as we conceive of God. This propensity, pei'haps as universal as the propensity to rely on the uniformity of na- ture's laws, may have been given us for the very purpose of checking our philosophy when it would presume to explain the origin of evil in the heart of a moral agent. Accustomed, as it is, to contemplate the relation of cause and effect, operating in an established order of sequence, it does not submit to consider Responsibility. 129 man an original source of action, but labors to account for the moral evil in him by causes operating from without, and ulti- mately traces it to God. "It may be well to inquire whether philosophy, when it pushes the doctrine of necessity into the inmost Arcana of this subject, does not assume in the premises from which it reasons that there is a natural inertia in mind, as in matter; or, rather, a sort of natural immutability. A chemical experiment oper- ates now precisely as it would have done before the flood, be- cause every atom of matter has precisely the same properties now that it had then. Matter has a natural immutability; but can this be predicated of mind? And does not philosophy assume it when it applies the doctrine of necessity to mental phenomena without any limitation, and boldly carries back the authorship of sin to God as the First Cause? There is a ten- dency in the human mind to a fixed state of virtue or vice, by the power of habit; but a natural immutability of the mind, anterior to the formation of habits, philosophy ought not to assume. Matter, in each atom, is immutable ; and it is mutable only in its combinations. The mind of man, though an uncom- pounded essence, is not immutable. God has made matter im- mutable, or operates immutably in matter. But if he has not chosen to operate in the same manner in mind, but has made each mind, in some sort, an original source of action, philosophy must submit to push her orders of sequence with confidence only where she has firm ground to stand on. "Your explanation, or, rather, your evasion of an explana- tion of phenomena which are patent to all men does you an injustice. You say, 'There may be a spiritual universe ; I do not deny it, but I know nothing of it.' At the same time you are a great believer in the material universe, and assert that you are a part of it. Now, do you really know anything of matter? Do you know that you yourself exist? Dogmatic skepticism asserts that nothing exists but ideas. All else, it says, may be delusion. It knows nothing of any material uni- verse ; it knows nothing of matter, spirit, or phenomena. It is the only real agnostic. Do you know that an atom of oxygen exists? No, you only believe it, and your belief is well founded 9 130 The Lantern of Diogenes. because it is based upon logical induction. You see results of chemical combinations that force you to believe in the exist- ence of an atom of oxygen. You believe that the different combinations of these atoms form the different oxides. ''Your reason forces you to this belief. Very Avell ! You see, also, combinations in the operations of men which Ave may term, for the sake of illustration, spiritual oxides. Matter never combines itself in a way to produce artificial results. These artificial results — man's works — are the spiritual oxides of this world. We see them in all the operations of men, and we see them in the operations of animals, of birds, and of insects. Something is behind matter that is not matter, when matter combines itself in the form of railroads, steamboats, houses to live in, clothes to wear, and food prepared to eat. Something is behind matter, also, that is not matter, when it combines it- self in the shape of the honeycomb, the bird's nest, and the ant- hill. ISTow, here are the results of a spiritual chemistry, as patent and as demonstrable as that oxide of iron is the result of a material chemistry. The atom of oxygen is in this iron rust, and the atom of spirit is in those houses, these railroads, and these ant-hills. You have seen the one just as much as you have seen the other. The evidence for the one is precisely the same as the evidence for the other. You believe in the one, and while you don't deny the other, you say that you know noth- ing of it. Strange, incongruous inconsistency ! Where is your boasted power of induction and deduction ? Is philosophy un- worthy of her rank when she conies in contact vdth religion ? Be fair, as I said to you once before. Take all the facts, all the combinations, and go back with your credulity and your skepticism. Find the atom of spirit as you find the atom of matter. Believe from evidence, and let your faith be directed by reason." ''My dear friend," replied the teacher, "you run ahead of the argument. You would clothe the man while I wash the baby. You go up by the elevator and deny that the house has stairs. Philosophical tnith must be sought as we find the result in mathematics. Deducing unknoAvn truths from principles al- ready known amounts to demonstration. We started at the very beginning of life, and we have followed the child through its Responsibiliti^. 131 purely animal life, to where it lias become a sentient, intelligent being. It lias passed from childhood; and before entering into the details of boyhood, it may be as well to make some observations in respect to knowledge or truth, and the differ- ent means of obtaining it. "The greatest bulk of our knowledge is acquired through the perceptive faculties. Until the understanding begins to ripen and the reasoning powers begin to mature, our knowledge is simply an accumulation or storing away of impressions received through the organs of sense. The ultimate truth of many of these impressions is never doubted. They seem to be axiomatic or self-evident; thus, two and two are equal to four; anything round is not square ; yellowness is not sweetness ; fire and water are not alike, and so on, in a thousand instances. This kind of knowledge is obtained mostly by experience and the instruction of others; and while it is subject to the imperfection of our bodily organs, and only partially reliable, it is the foundation on which the reasoning powers build and erect those monu- ments of truth which hold through all time. If the senses were never deceived, the judgment would never go astray; but in accumulating this storehouse of primary knowledge, error creeps in Avith truth, and the mixing is so intimate that, how- ever logically reason may set forth her claims, the end is often- times false. Indeed, the stricter the logic, the greater the devi- ation from truth when the premises are not well founded. Eight here is the point of deflection between minds of equal capacity in search of truth which is out of reach of the senses. Earnest men contend over questions of abstract truth, without considering the real point of difference, which more often lies in their primary conceptions, or the error which deludes their imperfect organs of sense. "The subject of free will in man is one of those mystical de- lusions which, like the mirage of the desert, leads its votaries on, blinding with desire and tempting with hope, until the weary traveler, despairing and exhausted, lies down m the sand to die. Solomon, with all his wisdom, aided by the power of inspiration, could never wholly divest himself of the blinding influence of emotion; could never calmly review the past, nor contemplate the future without a wail; could not be content 132 The Lantern of Diogenes. with the ordinances of inexorable necessity and sip nectar from the rich storehouse of his knowledge; hnt as the veil of natural infinnities began to darken and blur the brilliant hues of a glory resplendent in its zenith, we hear him complaining that, " 'In much wisdom is mucli grief, and he that iiicreaseth Iviiowl- edge, increaseth sorrow.' "Knowledge of the truth ought never to increase sorrow, for Grod is knowledge and truth ; and Solomon in the bitterness of his anguish must have reasoned illogically from cause to effect, or have attempted to arrive at truth from a foundation of false- hood. The end in view which this discussion is intended to illustrate can no more come within the range of the bodily organs than that the perceptive faculties can make manifest the spherical shape of the earth. Premises which no man will deny, and from which reason will make her deductions, are the means to an end which, cavil as you may, can never be other than tnith. "If the assertion that, 'Living matter cannot come from not living matter' be true, how is it possible for responsibility to proceed from that which is not responsible? Babyhood being father to boyhood, and babyhood, by common consent and by demonstration, being a state of irresponsibility, at what particu- lar time and by what mode does responsibility attach itself to boyhood? Responsibility implies will power, and something more; it implies power to do, or not to do, at the discretion of the individual. Power to do or not to do implies freedom of the will, but it by no means implies responsibility. God has power to do or not to do and perfect freedom of wall, yet he is not responsible. Infants and brutes have will power, but the common sense of mankind, as well as the law of the land, attaches responsibility to neither. Now, if the boy has a free will and is responsible, and the baby has not a free will and is not responsible, this emancipation of the will must have taken place at some particular moment between infancy and youth. Acting upon this mistaken idea, legislators, in the poverty of their resources, have made it arbitrary. The law of some States makes seven years the age of responsibility. Blackstone quotes the ancient Saxon law as establishing twelve years as Responsibiliti;. 133 tlie age of possible discretion, and by tbe present Englisli law as it now stands, and has stood at least ever since the time of Edward the Third, the capacity of doing ill, or contracting guilt, is not so much measured by years and days as by the strength of the delinquent's understanding and judgment; and yet he says : " 'Under seven years of age, indeed, an infant cannot be gnilty of felony, for a felonious discretion is almost an impossibility in nature; but at eight years old be may be guilty of felony.' "With this arbitrary ruling the abstract truth involved will resolve itself into the following termination : A bright boy is seven years old to-day at noon. This morning he was irre- sponsible; this afternoon he is responsible. This morning his will was under the dominion of the causes which produced it; this evening the fetters of cause and effect have been loosed, and the will, untrammeled and free, is no longer an effect, no longer subject to the laws of universal dominion, but in a mo- ment, in the twinkling of an eye, it becomes an independent entity, subject to no law and responsible to no power.* "This is logic. Man may be better than logic, but neverthe- less this is logic. It is man, principle and end of truth, as it is man, principle and end of creation. "The complications which invest legal procedure, and the judicial paradoxes involved in the settlement of causes attest the unsoundness of the structure upon which the system is based. Salient truths cropping out in the evolution of every judicial investigation of importance rebound with such force upon the arbitrary dicta of the lawmakers, that, to maintain the appearance of consistency, jurors are granted the same arbi- trary power; and it is left to the vacillating and capricious judgment of man to punish or condone crime. "If the criminal be young — if he is not past the age of possi- ble discretion as laid down by the law — his crime is not recog- nized; and oftentimes when his guilt appears clear, the influ- ence of perverted feeling prevents the execution of a sentence which is jiist, and the law is a dead letter. *A gradual evolution of responsibility cannot be admitted, for that would imply an evolution of punishment— a manifest impossibility. The boy is either responsible or he is not responsible, and punishment is based upon this hypothesis, and not upon any idea of growth or gradual assumption of responsibility. 134 The Lantern of Diogenes. ''If the unfortunate criminal should happen to be forty years old, we often see a chain of active forces in operation to punish without regard to law or justice. His prosecutors, urged by revenge or cupidity, exert themselves to their utmost, and the law, to maintain its dignity and to let the poor criminal know that he might have acted differently — to let him know that his will was free to do or not do — pronounces a sentence which involves life, and a crime is committed — judicial, it is true, but nevertheless a crime. The law assumes a right which it with- holds from its subjects. It assumes the prerogative of a self- constituted power w^hose code of ethics is miglit. It would ar- rogate to itself the peculiar privilege of infinite power, directed by the finite wisdom of man. It violates the golden rule in its every-day workings, and is capricious and uncertain to that extent that men are ever busy in efforts to circumvent and evade its action. "These observations are neither made to censure nor uphold the wisdom of legislation, for the exigencies of civil life re- quire many factitious ordinances which men in their moral and intellectual feebleness are constrained to tolerate. The question at issue being one of fact, they serve to illustrate the contradictions. "If evolution of responsibility be an untenable doctrine, noth- ing is left but to admit a sudden, momentary change from neces- sity to freedom — from irresponsibility to responsibility. If this be a fact, the time is definite, instantaneous, and ought to be determined. If evolution be admitted, then it necessitates a germ from which to evolve the responsibility, and this gQYva would entail the same upon the infant and even the foetus. Now, the facts and arguments in our analysis of Infancy w^ould seem to clear the little fellow's skirts of all this rubbish, and we are only left the pitiful subterfuge of claiming an effect without a cause — of creating something out of nothing — of working a diabolical miracle at some moment in the life of every boy to make it possible to damn the future man. Nothing else can be made of it. Human reason will not admit of so vile a prostitution as annihilation before God, and a cringing sei-\ility at the shrine of Mockery and Chance." Secondarp Causes. 135 CHAPTER XI. SECONDARY CAUSES. The impression of sorrow and compassion already made upon our friend was augmented into anguish by tins last out- burst of blind homage to the powers of human reason. He had a thousand argiunents ready, a dowry of facts at command; he had words of truth and soberness — a vocabulary as varied as his own experience wherewithal to meet the issue, but he felt cramped. The hatches of this iron-clad were closed; appeals were useless, prayers insulting. A bold front on the same line being his only resource, he answered with a tinge of asper- ity : ''Sir, the evolving germ is there. The little fellow's skirts are not cleared by a rift of rhetoric nor a bold assertion. Your argument is ad hominem. Evolution is true to the ex- tent of transmitting from parent to offspring. The sin of Adam is upon us now. Responsibility in man is the developed seed, the evolved genu of Infancy. " 'Be not deceived ; God is uot mocked, for whatsoever a mau soweth, that shall he also reu}).' "You are sowing to the wind, and I fear the harvest. Fain would I give you a helping hand, but what does it avail ? You are bound to your idols, and you will not listen to their re- proaches. I have several times called your attention to facts as indisputable as any from which you draw your inferences. You seem to think that a cause once set in motion never ceases to act. Your argument would tend to ignore secondary causes, and make man's pursuit of happiness a chase after a phantom. Let me illustrate : A horse kicks you on the leg and breaks it. A long train of symptoms follow: pain, lameness, loss of time, loss of money, et cetera. The first cause of all these ef- fects lasted but one second of time, a momentary contact of the horse's hoof with the bone of your leg. You summon a surgeon. He finds you in pain, and asks for a history. You tell him that a horse kicked you. Does that inform him of the nature of the lesion? You know very well that your leg is broken, but what does the surgeon know? Nothing yet, that 136 The Lantern of Diogenes. is of any consequence for liim to know. The first cause has ceased to act, and it is of no consequence even that it should be remembered. The case noiv staiids as independent of the kick as if it had never heen inflicted. "What the surgeon needs to know is the fact that the bone is broken. The break, which is the effect of the kick, becomes at once the cause of the pain. We cannot deal Avith the kick, and if we could, it would not mend the broken bone. Kespon- sibility in man is the broken leg we have to deal with, and it doesn't matter whether it is evolved from a germ or whether it comes at a leap. Secondary causes are the only causes we need to inquire into — the only causes we have any dealings with. Man's will may be a secondary cause, but so far as the inhab- itants of this earth are concerned, it is primary, and may be considered as the first cause of human actions. As I said to you once before, 'whether we can metaphysically account for it or not, there is a propensity in the himian mind to regard each moral agent as a sort of original source of action, somewhat as we conceive of God.' The parallel is immanent in this idea, with the utility of the surgeon's knowledge concerning the broken leg. All legislation is based upon this theory, and what- ever is of practical import must contain the germ of truth. To ignore human responsibility would be to abolish civilization. Your strictures on the doctrine of free will, and your caricatures on courts of justice and legislation as being based upon human responsibility, are shorn of their strength by your apology for making them. The absurdity of your position is admitted when you say, 'These observations are neither made to censure nor to uphold the wisdom of legislation, for the exigencies of civil life require many factitious ordinances, which men in their moral and intellectual feebleness are constrained to toler- ate.' The exigencies of civil life include medical and surgical practice, in which the application of remedies for the relief of suffering is limited to secondary causes. No theory which re- duces its practical application to an absurdity can be true, and as your labored arg-ument has ended in confusion and chaos, it follows that, notwithstanding the validity of your reasoning, and the regularity of your syllogisms, the fallacy of your con- clusions proves the unsoundness of your premises. Man's will Secondan^ Causes. 137 is, therefore, free, and liiiman responsibility is a fact. Take this upon faith as the highest act of reason, and 'beware, lest any man spoil you through philosophy.' " "Faith," replied the teacher, "assumes control when man passes the boundary of his own knowledge. Within the 'circle of the finite,' man is governed by his senses, his passions, emo- tions, appetites, and his reason. In the realm of darkness be- yond the circle, where every physical and mental trait calls a halt; where passion is dead, and appetite sated; where emotion ceases and reason herself lays down her burthen — here, in the great unknown — in the precincts of Eternity, faith becomes our guide. It is a star of light or a nebulous halo, a lantern of hope or blank despair; the beacon of the wise or the veil of the weak, as it starts from the understanding or is the product of hope and fear. "Webster says, 'Faith is belief : the assent of the mind to the truth of what is declared by another, resting on his author- ity and veracity, without other evidence.' Paul says, 'Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.' These two authorities make no distinction between faith in truth and faith in error. The definitions clearly mean an act of the mind without regard to the ultimate consequences of that act. Can a man have faith in error? Can you honestly believe another to be pure when he is impure? Did Paulina (mentioned in our discussion on freedom and necessity) exer- cise faith, when she assented to the declaration of her priest, that her god Anubis desired to sup and lie with her? Did Columbus exercise faith when he resolutely persisted in his Western course to discover America ? "The faith of Paulina was the 'highest' act of reason ; the faith of Columbus the last act of reason. The faith of Paulina was so high above reason that she lost her virtue and her happi- ness in reaching after the divine afflatus. The faith of Colimi- bus being subsidiary to reason, enabled him to immortalize his name, and work untold benefits to his race. Paulina accepted the dogmatic assertion of a priest ; Colmnbus relied solely upon the deductions of his own logical mind. These are typical ex- amples. 138 The Lantern of Diogenes. "When a man like Beecher says he lays aside his reason and accepts blindly the doctrines of the Trinity, or any other eccle- siastical dogma, he is in the same category with Paulina, and it is a mere chance if he is right. Cases of poison in food illus- trate faith without investigation. ''We take the food, poison and all, with the belief that we shall be nourished. An act of faith per se is as liable to be false as true, and to believe contrary to evidence is simply to stultify one's self. The image in which God made man is the image of intelligence. It is the sheerest nonsense to talk about laj-ing aside the reasoning powers in any matter whatever. Without reason we should be brutes, and that man who is guided solely by the intelligence of others is not far removed from the lower animals. I admit that it is the highest wisdom to be able to cull from the reasoning and intelligence of others the pith and essence of true philosophy, but to blindly follow the dicta of any man or any set of men, is merely to imitate, which any respectable ape can do. If we accept responsibility, then, we have to do it like Beecher does the Trinity ; like Paulina did the machinations of her priest. Reason is against it ; the last resource of logic is against it. All the baser passions favor it. Malice, revenge, hatred, all say, 'You could have acted differ- ently. You knew better. You deser\"e your punishment.' The prayer, 'Father, forgive them, for they knoAV not what they do,' is logic, love, religion. This came from the Master, and does not sound like responsibility." "My dear friend," said the traveler, "none are so blind as those who refuse to see. I have been disposed to think that you were in honest error, and that your rejection of spiritual truth was a species of psychical lethargy, or rather a one-sided view of the existing mental cosmos; but since you ignore facts and skim the surface, I desire to call your attention to some illustrations of the vast utility and paramount necessity of ex- ercising faith contrary to evidence. Your position would be tenable if the word ignorance, and all it involves, could be stricken from human affairs; but until knowledge becomes uni- versal and infallibility the patrimony of all, you are bound to concede that evidence is often misleading, and blind faith be- comes the last as well as the 'highest' act of reason. Your Secondary Causes. 139 'typical examples' can be offset with thousands of others which have occurred in the experience of every one who has arrived at the age of maturity ; and in no department can this be made plainer than in the art of healing. "An actual occurrence will serve better than any hypothetical cue, to show that you have missed some facts upon which your theory is built; and, according to your own evidence, 'If it can be found that one of the least factors of existence shows vio- lence to any theory, that theory in the nature of things must be false.' "Mrs. A. consults Dr. B. for an opinion as to her condition. She is forty years old, in perfect health apparently, is the mother of several children, the youngest of which is five years of age. For several months she has been enlarging as in a normal pregnancy. She believes that to be the case, but on account of her age and the age of her youngest child, as well as some vague forebodings, she wishes the matter set at rest by a medical consultation. The doctor finds that she is not pregnant; that the enlargement is due to a rapidly growing ovarian tumor, and tells her plainly that her life depends upon an early operation. He insists that without the operation death is inevitable, and encourages her that with the operation the chances are overwhelmingly in favor of a permanent cure. The evidence to the woman's mind is altogether against the as- sertion of the doctor. She has every reason to believe she is pregnant. She is not too old; she is perfectly well; she has been pregnant several times before, and the symptoms are vei-y similar to her former conditions. Her friends insist that the doctor is mistaken — they often are — and that her condition is due to pregniancy. Her senses, her experience, her reason, every fact connected with her condition, together with the dread of the operation and the insistence of her friends, strengthens a faith — based, not upon hope or fear, but a faith based upon reason and experience. Paulina's faith was blind. This wo- man's faith was the product of all that you insist upon as necessary to a true faith. Paulina's faith was strictly after Webster's definition; this woman's proved the truth of Paul's. Paulina lost her happiness; this woman lost her life.* Your *This case occurred in the practice of tlie author. 140 The Lantern of Diogenes. assertion is true that, 'an act of faith per se is as liable to be false as true'; but as the converse is equally true, before you condemn any act of faith, you must place human nature upon a basis of infallibility, and make man an omniscient being. "If this woman's faith had been modeled after Paulina's ; if she had blindly believed her physician as Paulina did the priest, her life might haA^e been saved by the same unthinking credence which caused Paulina's mortification." At this point, the schoolmaster, perceiving that many rational observations could be made on either side, and that the dis- cussion might be carried on indefinitely in a circle, trenched on the argumentum ad judicium by suddenly asking, "Do you be- lieve in the foreknowledge of God ?" His guest, after a little thought, said : "Bringing in the ideality of time, or the insight that time is only a relation in self-consciousness, and is, therefore, nothing in itself, or is rel- ative to the person's range or limitations, leaves the problem of foreknowledge empty as a speculative question." "You may be right," replied the teacher, "so far as God is concerned, but we poor mortals who are so limited will always have to separate yesterday from to-morrow by to-day. To the self -consciousness of God time may be only a relation, and, therefore, nothing in itself, but that view establishes his pre- science as a fact to our limitations. We cannot conceive of an eternal present; and as man's range of limitations is infi- nitely small compared with God's, time becomes a fact in our self-consciousness ; therefore, the past and future of man is no more than an eternal present with God. The conclusion, then, forces itself that God's knowledge extends to man's fu- ture." "It is argued by some," replied the traveler, "that God's prescience does not extend to or include contingencies; and it would puzzle the greatest philosopher that ever was to give any tolerable account how any knowledge whatsoever can cer- tainly and infallibly foresee an event through uncertain and contingent causes." Teacher. — Your argument, my dear sir, continues to revolve. Your first answer to my query as to God's foreknowledge elim- inates time, and, therefore, destroys contingent causes. An Secondary Causes. 141 eternal present can never tolerate contingencies; as whatever is casual Avith man is immediate with God. Now, as it is impossi- ble to eliminate time from man's self-consciousness, I would ask if you think man knows anything of the future. Guest. — I should answer, no. Teacher. — Then, when you got out of bed this morning you did not know as much as you know at the present moment ? Guest. — No, I lacked just what I have learned to-day. I might have correctly guessed at some things that I now know, but as to absolute knowledge, I had none of that which I have acquired since rising this morning. Teacher. — Whatever you have thought and done to-day is a past fixed fact, indelibly mapped in the mind of Omniscience, and stamped upon your ow^i mind so far as your memory re- tains it? Guest. — I admit this, also. Teacher. — Now, to make a hypothetical case, suppose it pos- sible to place you back to the time of rising this morning, mth all your surroundings the same; with the whole universe and all it contains precisely as it was at the time you got up ; with the same mental and physical state as regards your personality ; with the same will to actuate your motives to carry out your actions ; with the same knowledge and experience you had then — no more, and no less — and with every occurrence disconnected from yourself reenacted, would you do the same things you have done to-day, or would you do something else? Guest. — I should say, according to the teachings of philoso- phy, that conditions being the same, man will act precisely as before — i. e., conditions precisely the same, results will be the same. The mind cannot realize the fact that existence or change can, take 'place without a cause. This is at least true with respect to my own mind. I have very often made the attempt, and with no small painstaking; hut have never heen able to succeed at all. Supposing other minds to have the same general nature with my own, I conclude that all others will find the same want of success. If nothing had oHginally existed, I cannot possibly realize that anything could ever have existed. Causes absolutely the same, must in the same circumstances pro- duce absolutely the same effects. This is, I think, certainly 142 The Lantern of Diogenes. self-evident, and admitted as such. An absolute want of cause involves an absolute sameness of an opposite kind; and must, with nearly the same evidence, continue forever. The necessity of causes to all the changes of being is, so far as I Tcnoiv, uni- versally admitted."^ "ISTow, let me ask you if you think it would be in the range of possibility for you to think and act differently?" Here the traveler saw the pit covered with chaff — the trap set by this wily philosopher for his undoing; so, instead of answering directly, he made this reply: "If we are to regard man as an original source of action, somewhat as we conceive of God, then all metaphysical necessity becomes a shadow of the mind's own throwing, and in dealing with it we are chasing our own shadow and mistake it for substance." "Very true," replied the teacher, "but when you assume that man is an original source of action, you break out a link in the chain of cause and effect, and put him to some extent on an equality with God. If thought can start in the brain independ- ent of cause, it would lead to the absurd proposition that man himself is a self-existent being independent of cause and re- sponsible to no power." "Well ! suppose," retorted the traveler, "that pure logic would compel me to act as before ; what then ?" "I would then put this quodlibet: "Are you not in the same relative position upon rising each morning to the day following that you were this morning as regards to-day, i. e., are you not as ignorant of what will take place to-morrow, and every succeeding day of your life upon rising, as you were this morning of what was to take place to- day ; and your will to control your motives ; and your motives to direct your actions : are they not in the same category as to' circumstance, environment, hopes, fears, desires and all the complicated and varied energies of life as they were this morn- ing, in regard to what Avas to take place to-day?" "I grant your proposition; now, what?" "If you will be in the same relative position in regard to the day upon rising to-morrow morning that you were this morning in regard to the present day, and the opportunity of *The italicised lines are taken from Dwight's Theology, page 2. Secondary Causes. 143 going over this day, under the same circumstances, would neces- sitate your following the same track you have already traveled, how is it possible for you to avoid the track which is indelibly mapped in the mind of God for your steps to-morrow and every succeeding day of your life? Would you not have to spoil out the map which is fixed in the mind of Omniscience before you could select another route?" "I will now," said the traveler, a little impatiently, "give you what I conceive to be the best solution to this crotchety and un- accommodating subject. "I consider that the application of dynamic terms and rela- tions to the volitional life is purely fictitious and misleading. The illusion arises very naturally, but it is none the less illusory, and the objections brought are illusory. The mind understands other things, hut accepts itself: and it understands other things because they are not in mind. ''All the existential categories find their concrete illustrations and meaning only in the self-conscious life of active intelli- gence. Taken abstractly, they are illusory and the parent of illusions, or they cancel themselves and vanish. "In the concrete region, the only test of possibility apart from the purely negative and formal one of noncontradiction is ex- perience. The categories of thought get all their meaning from experience, which is the only proof of their possibility. Hence, we have no way of telling what can or cannot be in the con- crete, except by appeal to life ; and all flourishing of rational principles, laws of causation and the like, is a purely verbal affair without the slightest ground in rationality. This applies equally to our thought of our relation to God. Formal thought floats in the air with no foothold. We cannot tell what can or cannot be; we can only inquire what is, or, at least, what seems to be. Any other method breeds chimeras. If, then, we find we cannot interpret our life without admitting a measure of self-hood and self-direction, and, also, without rooting our life in the divine, we are perfectly free to do so, so far as specu- lation goes. "This general view I call Transcendental Empiricism. It is essentially the Kantian doctrine made consistent. 144 The Lantern of Diogenes. "I admit tliat to harmonize th© Sovereignty of God and Man's freedom is a difficult matter, but somehow the two pillars do somewhere unite to form a beautiful arch," Teacher. — We will now go to bed. Boyhood. 145 CHAPTER XII. BOYHOOD. The schoolmaster went to bed, but it was a long time before be went to sleep. Tbe old specter — Doubt — bis familiar spirit or demon, which had so persistently haunted his manhood, loomed up in the darkness and cast uncanny shadows before his mental vision; obscuring the light of his philosophy, and shading the lamp of his reason. His fitful sleep was inter- rupted by foggy dreams of hesitation and perplexity. He was being tried in a court where the evidence was neither positive nor rationalistic. His condemnation depended upon the defi- nition of a term. Transcendental Empiricism was beyond his comprehension. He neither admitted nor denied his guilt. He made no defense; he left the verdict to the jury; that jury is the readers of this book. Rising with the lark, he went out for a walk and met his guest, whose ancient woe had refused him rest, and driven him forth for a new instalment. "Good morning, friend," quoth the teacher; "you rise early: how about the night?" "As usual with me ; my peace is short, my rest is nil." "I, also, was troubled last night ; I slept badly, and was an- noyed with unwholesome dreams ; you took me into deep water, and I am not refreshed. Suppose we come down to a more familiar use of language and talk of the boy." "As you like," Avas the reply; "I remember well my boyhood days, though so long since past." "If we look at the boy as he is," continued the teacher, "we shall find him a savage, both by instinct and habit ; up to the fourteenth year the human being lives for itself; its instincts are for the gratification of its present wants, and those wants are, for the most part, connected with its vegetative develop- ment. If the boy is healthy, his appetite for eating is almost insatiable, and his power for mischief is in proportion to his strength. He is cruel, thoughtless and venal. He delights in punishing the helpless and torturing the weak. He will strip 10 146 The Lantern of Diogenes. a bird of its feathers and chop its legs off. He will stick a cork on its beak and turn it loose. He will pull off the legs of flies and gloat over their helplessness. He will put a live coal of fire on a turtle's back to see him run, and he will feed shot to a frog till it can't hop. He will annoy domestic ani- mals from pure 'cussedness,' and if by chance a little just retri- bution befalls him, he will scream at the top of his voice and iim to his mother. He is essentially a coward. While he revels in tyranny, he is careful never to attack the strong. One boy alone never was known to storm a hornet's nest. He will band together, and with the tactics of a veteran, make sallies and retreats. His greatest delight in this warfare is that the other boy may get stung. He will take the risk himself with the hope of hearing the other boy howl. This is the savage in him. It shows itself in his treatment of his playmates, on whom he is more or less dependent for his selfish pleasures. To them he is rarely kind, never just. This spirit hangs on through life, and is only softened by experience, education and religion. It is nothing more than the spirit of resistance which makes it possible to live in a world like this. All the teaching and all the preaching have not eradicated it from the human heart, and probably never will. Christianity has been preaching against it for two thousand years ; Buddhism as stren- uously opposes it, and Confucius laid down a golden rule for human conduct : '' 'What you do not like when done to yourself, do not do to others.' But the boy has no use for catholic or ethical rules. He lives for self, and is on the defensive when not the ag- gressor. Teachers and humanitarians would probably do bet- ter work by directing, rather than attempting to suppress this inborn principle. "Anywhere from five to twelve years of age, the boy is a brute. He is not only brutish; he is absolutely bestial. He will do things the remembrance of which will make him shudder after maturity. If vigorous and healthy, his curiosity will drive him into measures which bring tears to his mother's eyes and sadness to her heart. Work he will not, except under com- pulsion, and why? Because he is unfit for work and cannot see the need for it. His business is to eat and to grow and to Boghood. 147 get into mischief. Compel him to work and you dwarf his in- tellect and stunt his body. Send him to school, and but for the chance to play pranks on his deskmate, to hollo and run when playtime comes, to cheat the teacher and domineer it over some smaller boy, he had as soon be in limbo. He will not study, simply because he can't. He is too full of blood, too full of mischief, too full of fun, too full of the boy. There is nothing of the saint in him; nothing of the man, but this is the boy out of which the real man comes. The good boy makes a soriy man, and oftentimes a bad one. The studious boy seldom gets an education, and when he does his body is dwarfed and his spirit broken. The real boy, that is father to the true man, has no time for study, no time to be good, no time to keep clean even, no time to obey his parents or teachers. His whole time is occupied in growing and cultivating the accessories to growth. His mind is as active as it ever will be, but it is not on the great problems of life. His mental scope is limited to his experience, stimulated by his rapid strides from ignorance to knowledge, and carried forward by the panoramic view of life as it is presented to his consciousness day in and day out. His imagination leads him into the most weird and fallacious conceptions of life and the universe. He fonns the most fan- tastic theories of the causes of every observed effect, and he will ask questions that will puzzle the greatest philosopher. These reminiscences occupy but little of his time, but they obtrude in his leisure moments and especially after listening to the con- versation of his elders. If his bump of acquisitiveness is largely developed, he will work for money, but he always wants a big price. If his mechanical bent is in the ascendency, he will work with tools and build mills, flying-jennies and hand-carts, or railroads down the slopes of hills. It is astonishing how faithfully and persistently the mechanical mind will drive the boy to these exercises. If interrupted in these pursuits by ill- advised parents, he will swear by all that is good or bad that when he gets grown he will build as many mills, carts and fly- ing-jennies as he wants. The determination fades away as he grows older, and he never knows how nor when it left him. If he is a sort of milksop with no strong proclivities, he will be easily led, and will work for another boy, but never for 148 The Lantern of Diogenes. himself. If naturally sympathetic and kind-hearted, Avith weak thinking powers, under the stimulus of praise he will wait on his mother, build fires and help her cook. But when a man, the same boy will let her starve and — be sorry for her. The mother always loves this boy. He is the prodigal son, and the fatted calf is always ready for a feast. He is so good and so helpless and so worthless that the mother's heart yearns toward him to her last breath. The bad (but not mean) boy, when a man, will feed and clothe his mother and make her com- fortable, but she never loves him. Her heart will always go out to the prodigal. She will fear and respect her manly son, but way down, deep, in the bottom of her soul, is a warm nest, and hovering wings for the unlicked cub. This, possibly, is a type of the great enigma of Christian eclecticism. These types are not intended to represent the whole of humanity. There are remarkable exceptions — geniuses, following no law, and coming under no class. There are a few men and women who have lived to maturity, and even old age, whose infancy and childhood were as remarkable as their manhood and womanhood ; whose brains and bodies seem to have been cast in superior moulds. But, as a rule, intellectual prodigies die young. The most remarkable instance on record is a child born at Lubeck, February 6, 1721, and died there, June 27, 1725, after having displayed the most amazing proofs of intellectual powers. He could talk at ten months old, and had scarcely completed his first year Avhen he already kncAv and recited the principal facts contained in the fiA^e books of Moses, with a number of verses on the creation : at thirteen months he knew the history of the Old Testament ; and the New, at fourteen ; in his thirtieth month, the history of the nations of antiquity, geography, anatomy, the use of maps, and nearly 5,000 Latin words. Before the end of his third year Jie was well acquainted with the history of Denmark, and the genealogy of the crowned heads of Europe; in his fourth year he had learned the doctrines of divinity, Avith their proofs from the Bible ; ecclesiastical history ; the institutes ; 200 hymns, with their tunes ; 80 psalms ; entire chapters of the Old and ISTew Tes- taments; 1,500 verses and sentences from ancient Latin classics; almost the whole Orbis Pictus of Comenius, whence he had derived all his knowledge of the Latin language; arithmetic; his- Boi^hood. 149 tory of the European empires and kingdoms ; could point out, in the maps, whatever place he was asked for or passed by in his journeys ; and recited all the ancient and modem historical anecdotes relating to it. His stupendous memory caught and retained every word he was told; his ever active imagination used whatever he heard or saw instantly to apply some ex- ample or sentence from the Bible, geography, profane or ec- clesiastical history, the Orbis Pictus, or from ancient classics. At the court of Denmark he delivered twelve speeches without once faltering, and underwent public examination on a variety of subjects, especially the history of Denmark. He spoke Ger- man, Latin, French, and low Dutch, and was exceedingly good- natured, and well-behaved, but of a most tender and delicate bodily constitution; never ate any solid food, but chiefly sub- sisted on nurse's milk, not being weaned till within a very few months of his death, at which time he was not quite four years old. There is a dissertation on this, published by M. Martini, at Lubeck, 1730, where the author attempts to assign natural causes for the astonishing capacity of this great man in embryo, who was just shown to the world and snatched away. 150 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER XIII. CAUSE AND EFFECT. "To THE philosopher, who would pry into the secrets of na- ture, and endeavor to learn something of himself and his fel- low-man, the fii'st issue that presents itself is an interrogatory: "Why is the boy just what he is ? "A satisfactory answer to this question would solve the euigTiia of life, and settle at once and forever the wrangles and disputes of ages. Whoever has studied critically the philoso- phy of cause and effect, or whoever believes that there are causes for what is, what has been, and what is to be — in other words, whoever denies that things happen by chance, and admits that the universe is governed by law, must form in his oavu mind a chain, the last link of which corresponds to the last ob- served effect. Start with the last link and count back, link by link, through the division made by Aristotle, of material, for- mal, efficient and final causes, and you can never stop until you get to the first cause of everything. This chain starting with the Great First Cause reaches down to the last link, and branches out in directions illimitable to the last outgrowth of cause, and through the haphazard, chance-medley revolutions of the great wheel of Fortune. It includes the material and the immaterial, the spiritual and the corporeal. Thought it- self is fettered by this chain, and motive and act are embraced in its coil. Break out a link and that would sever the conse- quent from God — and that is inconceivable. Somewhere along this chain of links the boy's existence begins. Go back, and you can never stop short of the first cause, which is God. Go forward, and the chain is broken only at death, if then. The backward links may be appropriately named life, heredity, in- tellect, physique, circumstance of birth, sex and nationality. The forward links include environment, association, riches and poverty, education, health and disease, will, motive and action. The links alternately represent cause and effect; the first link being the cause of the second; the second is now only an effect, but it immediately becomes the cause of the third, and so on to the end of the chain. One of the simplest and most familiar Cause and Effect. 151 examples of cause and effect is a shadow cast on a wall. The shadow is the effect of two causes which are at once apparent, viz., the opaque object and the light. This shadow is a type, so far as its backward movement is concerned, of every effect that has ever existed since cause first began to operate. It has within itself no power to remove, modify or change the cause or causes which produced it, and, therefore, it is a shadow from necessity. It does not matter about its being a phenomenon. The chain frequently ends with phenomena, but phenomena never break out a link. Substance, so far as retroactive power is concerned, is in the same helpless position as phenomena, A piece of furniture which is the effect of all the causes laid down by Aristotle, is as helpless toward any or all of the causes that aided in its construction as the shadow on the wall. A railroad, a steamboat, a house, a suit of clothes is in the same position in regard to the causes which produced it. Ar- gument seems to be perfect with all minds, so long as cause and effect are applied to the brute, the vegetable, and the material creation ; but the moment you touch man and get to a certain point in his make-up, a halt is called and a danger-signal is raised. Right here is the commencement of strife, war, and bloodshed. Right here most of the miseries of life begin, and right here man lays aside his reason. This is the point where Egotheism usurps the power of God. This is where man be- gins to love himself and hate his neighbor. This is the altar at which the Pharisee offers his sacrifice, and thanks himself that he is not as other men. This is what makes the Catholic hate the Protestant, and this is what split protestantism into a thousand sects. Right here is the origin of evil. Man clothes himself with the 'foolishness of God' and says, 'Look at me; behold, I am without cause; I am free!' "Abrogate the law of cause and effect as applied to motive, will, thought, and act, and Egotheism becomes the true philoso- phy of life — the Natui'al and Revealed religion of man. If thought originates de novo in the brain of man, if motive and will have no cause back of mind itself, then the acts of man form the second link in the chain, and give us a polytheism which rationally accounts for the disordered state of human society. Upon this idea men act while professing to believe in 152 The Lantern of Diogenes. God, 'but thej change the truth of God into a lie, and worship and serve the creature rather than the Creator.' Upon this idea man has made a hell for his neighbor, and a heaven for himself. Upon this idea war is declared and blood is shed. This false and sinful notion takes all the responsibility from me and places it upon you. It makes us blame the boy for being rude and thoughtless, and makes us hate the man for thinking and acting differently from ourselves. It makes hypocrites of us all, both in life and religion. The mission of Christ was to correct this error, and save us from our sins ; but his teachings were re- pudiated then, and are perverted now. His last prayer was a lamentation for our ignorance : " 'Father, forgive tliem, for they know not what they do.' " 'The ox kuoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but Israel hatli not IvDown me, and my people hath not understood." "ISTow, why is this? The answer is plain. Reason has ab- dicated her throne, and passion reigns. Man has voted out logic, and fallen in love with himself. Self-deification is at the root and bottom of his philosophy, and being self-made, he worships his Maker. How easy it would be to cultivate and practice the Christian virtues if men would reason correctly. Charity would flow from one to another, and hatred Avould for- sake the human heart. The golden rule would be the guide for all, and strife would cease. If we could recognize that motive is the effect of anterior causes over which it has no control, that will is not a self-existent entity, and that action is only a link in the chain of cause and effect, we would cease to blame men for what they do, and a rational legislation would take the place of our present statutes. Arbitration would take the place of war, compromise would shut up the courts of law, and mild coercion would be the means of reforming the thoughtless. The boy Avould be seen as he is, and not as the older one thinks he ought to be; the rod would be laid aside and the precepts of Jesus substituted for the savagery of Solomon. If the boy was not just what he is, there would be no place on earth for him. If God had only wanted men. He would have made them of dust as He did the first man, and there would have been no use for women ; but God wanted boys, and He wanted Cause and Effect 153 them just as they are, or He would have had them different. The boy is all right if he could be let alone and have good ex- amples set by his elders. But so long as he is ill-treated, and looked upon as an encumbrance, his evil propensities will re- main in the ascendency. Cause and effect operate here, the same as they do in the various departments of industry. Culti- vate the boy as you would a crop, and if the seed is good, and the soil productive, you will harvest a man. But the seed is of more importance than the cultivation, for it is not by virtue of education so much as by virtue of inheritance that he is brave or timid, generous or selfish, prudent or reckless, boastful or modest, quick or placid of temper. Common observation has always recognized, and has expressed in various popular say- ings in all languages, the vital influence of breed upon char- acter, and the impossibility of eradicating nature. It is of more importance to know what a man's father or mother was than what his schoolmaster was. Many an experience in life teaches the individual who has had the blessing of a good parentage how incalculable is his debt. When compelled to act at critical moments, or under difficult and trying circum- stances to which he was not consciously equal, or under great temptation to wrong or in any other case in which his art has failed him, he shall have had cause to bless the nature which he has inherited, to give thanks for the reseiwe force of a sound and vigorous character which his parents have endowed him with, and which has stood him in good stead and inspired him, as his leisurely consideration proA'es, to do rightly when he knew not what he was doing. The individual's nature is beneath his art ; if sound, it will come to his rescue when culture fails him ; if unsound, it will overthrow him in the hour of trial in spite of culture. Better than all that has been taught him by his pastors and masters, it will enable him to meet his last fate with becoming dignity in the hour of death and in the day of judgment." This discourse had so absorbed the attention of the two men that their long walk had unconsciously tenninated just as the old philosopher spoke the last sentence. They were back at the house and breakfast was ready. The traveler, notwithstand- ing his long and varied experience in life, and for all his asso- 154 The Lantern of Diogenes. ciations with the philosophers and theologians of the different schools, had caught an idea from this old man which even to him was new. The old question of moral evil had perplexed him as it had perplexed others. He was unwilling to place the authorship of sin upon God, and the devil was only a shifty substitute. He admitted that the image in which God had made man was the image of intelligence, but he had been taught that, "the foolishness of God is wiser than men," and he doubted the good of human reason. But here was an explana- tion of the origin of evil that would take it off from God, and shift it even from the shoulders of the devil. The twisting of a link in the chain of cause and effect had given it a sort of antithetical origin, and left it uncertain as to whose door the blame should be laid. The abdication of Reason left the entry unguarded, and as Passion donned the purple gown, she shook from her skirts the elements of discord, which came together by Cosmical affinity, and formed the hydra-headed Cabinet, whose voice is so often heard in the councils of men. He felt a good deal like the schoolmaster felt at the end of the discus- sion on Responsibility. He was willing to leave the verdict to the jur}' without further comment. After breakfast the schoolmaster proposed a walk to the depot, for the mail. This suited the itinerant, as he had begun to feel very painfully the old ringing noise which was becoming intolerable from too much idleness. What was talked about on this trip is recorded in the next chapter. From Bophood to Manhood 155 CHAPTER XIV. FROM BOYHOOD TO MANHOOD. "Boyhood," began the teacher, after they had. well gotten on the road, ''had run its cycle of age ere youth is born. Old age here is more painful, more regrettable than the old age of man- hood, for the death of boyhood comes when all the faculties of our being are in the ascendency, and the pain is in proportion to the capacity to feel. Youth is born upon the funeral pyre of boyhood, and as the embers die and the ashes are scattered, the callow graft is left to the merciless storms of inexperience. Youth regrets boyhood the more on account of its solitariness. He can no longer enjoy the society of boys, and men don't want him. It is the transition stage of life where every faculty re- volts at the tyranny of fate. The schoolroom and the work- shop are the only two places that give him a welcome. 'Now is the time for him to lay the foundation of a solid education; but he still has to grow, and the warfare between inclination and duty is something fearful. The seeds of passion sprout, and the rank growth threatens the crop with destruction. Am- bition flatters and despondency paralyzes; hope dazzles the eye with a beautiful mirage and fear dispels it; languor fights a terrific battle with industry, and inexperience lays snares in his every-day path. "Youth is the least satisfactory period of human life — the period when the human being is of no use to the world, no use to his friends, and of little iise to himself. He is in the way of everybody, an expense to his parents and a menace to society. He is on top of the fence with himself, and whether he falls to the good or bad side depends both upon inheritance and surroundings. Vanity makes him confident, but ignorance makes him inefiicient. He would do the work of a man, but he can find no employer. What he is fitted to do he does not relish, and what he desires to do needs an older head. Con- stant chiding makes him morbid and suicide grows into a vision of relief. Indiscriminate praise is no more to be com- mended than too much fault-finding. It is here that proper direction is of incalculable value to the future man. By con- 156 The Lantern of Diogenes. stantly blaming some actions and praising others in their chil- dren, parents are able to so form their characters that, apart from any reflection, these shall in after life be attended with a certain pleasure; those, on the other hand, with a certain pain. Names are associated with certain characteristics from impres- sions made on the minds of the young by their parents speaking of Mr. A. as a drunkard, or Mr. B. as a rogue, or Mr. C. as a common man, or Mr. D. as a fine gentleman. These im- pressions cling to the individual in after years, so that when- ever he hears the name the character is vividly reproduced in his mind. The Romish Church thoroughly understood this impressionable period of life when she said, 'Give me the child until it is seven years old, and you may have it ever afterward.' "Youth being the transition stage between a purely vegeta- tive existence and that of maturity, is beset with more dangers, i:»ossibly, than any other period of life. With every faculty of the mind and every bodily organ, as it were, in a race for the supremacy of growth; with no power to curb the one or di- rect the other; without knowledge, without experience; with no implements to prune the over-luxuriant, and no fertilizer to stimulate the backward ; wdth bodily passions and mental traits, growing from seeds unsifted and unselected, sown upon soil unprepared, and sterile or fertile by haps, the youth is at the mercy of leaven over which he has no control; and unless he can be directed by wiser and more experienced heads, he will be swerved in the direction of the strongest and most vigorous elements of his nature. Many a youth is so evenly balanced that he may be turned to the good or bad by advice and admoni- tions from parents, teachers, and friends, according to their insight into his stronger or weaker mental and physical endow- ments. Others are so aslant from inherited tendencies that precept and example make no impression. Sidewise they go, and ajee they run their race. For these people there is no remedy. They make up the tramps, the vagabonds and jail- birds of every country. Dungeons, penitentiaries, and work- houses are for their use alone. Half the statutes of every ci"\al- ized land are in force because of this class, and despite of penalties, the crop grows and the harvest becomes more plenti- ful. These form the classes danger euses of large towns, who From Boi^hood to Manhood. 157 are born and bred in squalor and iniquity, and never have a chance afforded them to rise out of it. Their intellect and moral sense are seldom sufficiently developed to afford them the compensation these bring to others. The apparently hopeless, objectless, noxious existence of these beings, and their fearful power of mischief and of multiplication, have always been and still remain to me, 'God's most disturbing mystery.' "About the time of puberty, one particular organic element begins to develop, whose influence may be traced into the last ramification of human motive. Sex, which in infancy and childhood is only a germ, now begins to play a role, that, for influence over mankind, both for good and evil, has no counter- part in nature. All other passions that agitate the human breast are in their combined effects far less powerful than love, which inflames the senses and fools the understanding. On the one hand, we gratefully glorify love as the source of the most splendid creations of art; of the noblest productions of poetry, of plastic art and of music; Ave reverence in it the most power- ful factor of human civilization, the basis of family life, and, consequently, of the development of the State. On the other hand, we fear in it the devouring flame which drives the unfor- tunate to ruin, and which has caused more misery, vice, and crime than all the other evils of the human race taken together. "The overmastering passion of love has surrounding it a strange and mystic glamour; it is the juggling instinct of uni- versal nature thrilling through man's nature, and is truly an en- chantment ; the individual is possessed by it, being transformed out of the prosaic region of facts into a sort of ecstasy. It is nature's way of inveigling man into the propagation of his kind, and so strives by propagating itself through time to cheat death. "If bent on getting an education or learning a useful trade, the youth cannot be swerved from the duty line by the tempta- tions of the flesh, or the siren songs of imagination; yet the most determined and strong-minded young man will be modified in his views and influenced in his actions by the groAvth of those passions which nature implanted and time is developing. Greed can no more be eradicated from the naturally covetous than care-taking can be imbued into the naturally wasteful. 158 The Lantern of Diogenes. "Josephus tells us that the first man born upon the earth was 'wholly intent upon getting.' His brother, being less am- bitious and more inclined to take life easy, preferred the shade to sunshine and sweat. The difference between the two, even now, is said to be only sixpence, and the lazy one oftener gets it. This travesty upon industry is the sorry outcome of that philosophy which ignores Cause and panders to the baser pas- sions of human nature. The story of the Prodigal Son is a remonstrant against effort, as the doctrine of Repentance is an encouragement to sin. ''When St. Patrick preached the Gospel on Tarah Hill to Leoghaire, the Irish King, the Druids and wise men of Ireland shook their heads. 'Why,' asked the King, 'does what the cleric preaches seem so dangerous to you?' " 'Because,' was the answer, 'he preaches repentance, and the law of repentance is such that a man shall say, "I may commit a thousand crimes, and if I repent I shall be forgiven, and it will be no worse with me ; therefore, I will continue to sin." ' "The Druids argued logically, and the same reasoning infests the church at the present day. An old reprobate, of good standing in the church, being reprimanded for his flagrant im- morality, hooted at the idea, and said, 'That's nothing; I have the faith.' And, so it is, when a religious sentiment panders to the baser passions of men, we have an additional cause, or a stronger link forged into the chain for the propagation of crime." At this point the traveler raised an objection. He inter- rupted the schoolmaster in his discourse by saying: "When Judas saM^ that Christ was condemned, it is said of him that he repented of what he had done. He was mightily afflicted in his mind about it, and wished it had not been done. But his repentance arises from a fear of the punishment de- nounced against sin, and is not accompanied Avith hatred of sin ; as when a malefactor suffers for his crimes, he reflects upon his actions with sorrow, but this not being a sacred act, but pro- ceeding from a violent principle, is consistent with as great a love to sin as he had before, and may be entirely terminated on From Bophood to Manhood. 159 himself; lie may be sorry for his crimes, as they have exposed him to pmiishment, and yet not be grieved that thereby he has offended God. ''This is legal repentance. "For that saving grace wrought in the soul by the Spirit of God, whereby a sinner is made to see and be sensible of his sin, is grieved and humbled before God on account of it, not so much for the punishment to which sin has made him liable, as that thereby God is dishonored and offended, his laws violated, and his OAvn soul polluted and defiled ; and this grief arises from love to God, and is accompanied with a hatred to sin, a love of holi- ness, and a fixed resolution to forsake sin, and an expectation of favor and forgiveness through the merits of Christ. This is evangelical or gospel repentance. And this is the repentance preached by St. Patrick on Tarah Hill — repentance to reforma- tion." "Ah !" exclaimed the teacher, "repentance to refonnation ! If reformation is the essential outcome of true, or gospel repent- ance, then the word repentance might well be stricken from the text, and reformation put in its place; but does the sacred writer really mean reformation, when he exhorts to repent- ance? If so, then, the thief on the Cross must have made an exception, as he had no opportunity to reform." "N'o doubt," replied the traveler, "but the thief, had he had the opportmiity, would have reformed, as the Savior recog- nized his as evangelical repentance; but when Jeremiah was pleading the cause of his people, God said to him : " 'Thou hast forsaken me, thou art gone backward ; therefore will I stretch out my hand against thee, and destroy thee; I am weary with repenting.' "That kind of repentance is wearisome now, and God has no more patience with it than lie had in the days of Jeremiah. Whoever relies upon that will be left, whether he stands well in the church or not. Gospel repentance is accompanied by regeneration, and where a man loved sin before, he now loathes and hates it ! 'for godly sorrow worketh repentance to salva- tion not to be repented of : but the sorrow of the world worketh death.' " 160 The Lantern of Diogenes. Teacher. — "Your argiiment is logical and your illustrations apt, but when you presume to say the thief would have reformed had the chance been given him, you pass from rational argu- ment to casuistry. The conscience of the thief was only known to himself, and the promise made by the Savior simply shove's his extreme benevolence and pity for a fellow-sufferer. The case of Judas, to a court of inquiry, would seem much nearer gospel repentance than that of the thief. Judas was not only sorry for his crime, but made what restitution he was able to, by returning the silver pieces ; and still, not having his con- science satisfied, brooded over his sin until remorse drove him to suicide. You may call this a cowardly act; you may repro- bate the sinner, and withdraw from him all sympathy; you may loathe and despise, execrate and condemn ; you may call to mind all the horrors of Dante's Inferno, and implore the de- stroying Angel for additions to this maelstrom of sin, and you may consign the soul of Judas to this pit, but you must re- member that his act was by the '^determinate counsel and FOREKNOWLEDGE OF GoD.'." "My dear friend," replied the traveler, "I am not here to pass sentence upon a fellow-sinner. Judas, like the rest of us, is in the hands of God, and whatever He does is right. In one sense I have the spirit of Job : 'Though He slay me, yet Avill I trust in Him,' but I have not the consciousness of being upright like Job ; I cannot maintain mine own ways before him ; rather, like the publican, I continually cry, 'God be merci- ful to me, a sinner.' I was only trying to make plain the difference between gospel and legal repentance — the saving power of the one and the inefficiency of the other. Christ kncAV the heart of the thief, or he never would have made him the promise." They had now reached the post-office, and after securing the mail and taking a short rest, they retraced their steps toward home. The schoolmaster's mind was still on the philosophy of human nature, and as they leisurely walked back, the conversa- tion was confined to man in his maturity. This being the time when the human being, if ever, is free and responsible, will be minutely considered in the next chapter. Manhood. 161 CHAPTER XV. MANHOOD. The stroll toward home was commenced in silence. The schoolmaster was thinking, and his companion was enjoying the relief ever attendant npon motion. The discussion of metaphy- sical subtilties w^as of less consequence to the wayfarer than procuring relief from his infirmity. Years ago he had waded through the philosophies of all creeds ; had steeped his mind with every thought, from savage to sage; had studied the "hoodoo" of Africa, and the metaphysics of Calvin ; had dwelt in the penetralia mentis of Kant, and slept on the couch of Transcendentalism. He was surfeited with thought, and had rejected all human philosophies. His experience outweighed his reason. The little "white stone" and the new name written therein was the summum honum of all things to him; yet he was patient, tolerant, and ever ready to accommodate, either in word or deed. He pitied the schoolmaster from the bottom of his soul, and continually prayed that the Spirit might give him the "name which no man knoweth saving he that receiv- eth it." At last the silence was broken ; the teacher spoke as if to him- self, and with a loud voice, exclaimed, "Manhood! the flower, the fruit, the culmination of human life ! The output of the Triune Godhead in coimcil ! What a grand theme is man ! What a mystery to himself, what a puzzle to his Maker! The image of God himself ; no wonder he is incomprehensible ! Let us analyze, if we can, this masterpiece of Creation. "The child, the boy, the youth are the rungs of the ladder to manhood — io manhood, the enigma, the riddle, the puzzle — the Hyrcanian wood of human philosophy. We observe the form, we see the body, we come in contact with the material — the flesh; but we think the man — the Ego. We look at the hand, we handle the foot, we observe the eye, the ear, the nose, the features; we dissect and analyze the arteries, the veins, the nerves, and the organs of digestion ; we look at the heart and note its wonderful work, its power, its never ceasing pulsation ; 11 162 The Lantern of Diogenes. we understand liow, and wliv, the lungs take in and throw out air; we note the reproductive organs, and we are amazed and bewildered at their function. We then go into the inner Ar- canum of life, the throne-room of the Ego — the Holy of Holies, where the spirit dwells, and we find it vacant. ''The veil of the temple has been torn and the Shechinah is no longer there. The man is gone back to his Father's house, and there we can behold him only with the eye of faith. "But, first, let us endeavor to find out in what part of this house of flesh the Ego made its special abode. "On another occasion you said, 'The mind understands other things, hut accepts itself — as good as to say, the mind cannot investigate itself. I am not ready to agree to such an assertion, and rather think that, by excluding certain por- tions of the body, and by a proper introspection, we may, at least, locate the particular organ with which the Ego is most intimately connected. We look at the foot, and at once recog- nize its particular function. We examine the hand, and we find it a tool, an implement for executing the commands of the mind. We view the heart, and find it a double-acting compound pump for the blood; the arteries and veins are the irrigating canals of the body, and the intestinal tract is the great river of com- merce, as it were, to bring in supplies, and rid the body of waste material. The liver is an immense chemical and physi- ological laboratory, where antiseptics are prepared and poison- ous germs are destroyed. The whole body below the head is a material organization, and governed entirely in its various functions by physical laws. Let the mind of any man think of its habitation, and see if it will locate it in the foot, hand, heart, liver, or intestinal canal. Think of your own Ego, and ask yourself where it is. Interrogate any functioning organ above the Adam's apple, and see if you can analyze the product. The product of the liver is bile; that of the kidneys, urine; that of the stomach, digestive juices. All these products can be seen, handled, and reduced to their component elements ; but wdiat of sight, sound, smelling, and tasting? Can they be put in a crucible and analyzed, or into a retort and distilled into some^ thing else? Can you find an element of matter in sound, or a ponderable molecule in sight? Is it possible to convert one Manhood. 163 odor into another by chemical reaction? Can salt be made to taste like sugar by manipulation ? It is a fact that a pleasant odor can be changed into a vile one by imagination, and vice versa: but what is imagination? "In the head we come in contact with something besides matter. Matter alone cannot produce sight, sound, taste, or smell. Sensation is not an attribute of matter; neither is thought. It is believed that the ultimate particles, the atoms of matter, are eternally in motion ; but is motion an attribute of matter? There is no evidence of that fact. Then, what shall we do? Give up and stop investigation? No, we should seek for truth, and seek it rationally from the evidence we have. Socrates taught us exclusion ; Bacon, induction. The human mind is not limited in its power of inquiry. Start with what we know, and reason logically, and if we do not find truth, it is nowhere to be found. "In brain matter we have a substance differing from all other combinations of matter. The chemist has almost been baffled in his attempts to analyze this substance. Its constitu- ents are of a very complex character, easily undergoing de- composition, and, being compounded largely of carbon and hydrogen, have a high oxidation value. That waste and re- pair, from functional activity, go on in the brain, as in other organs, is a demonstrable fact. That mind and brain are in- timately connected is no longer questioned; but as cause and effect, is a very doubtful proposition. "We cannot affirm that the mind is a secretion of the brain, as bile is a secretion of the liver, neither can we say that brain is the efficient cause of mind. Bile and liver are both material substances, and both may be reduced to their component elements. Brain-substance is matter in combination, extremely complex and obscure, but nothing more than matter. Is mind matter? If so, life is mat- ter, and there is no God. The mind of man will not agree to this. That there are at least two different substances com- posing this universe is a self-evident proposition — matter and spirit, intimately associated, but never forming a combination. We recognize matter in its infinite combinations, but spirit is held to be an uncompounded essence; and while it cannot be disintegrated into elementary forms, it manifests itself in 164 The Lantern of Diogenes. ways as ininmierable as that of matter. What is life, but spirit operating through matter? The myriad forms of life alone would compare numerically wnth the different combina- tions of matter; and then the infinite number of manifestations resulting from life would swell the aggregate to all the chemical unions in the universe. Natural philosophers have held that it is not improbable that all the infinitely varied forms of matter may be, and probably are, nothing more than the in- finite variations of one primordial element. This idea is not so ill-founded as might appear from our present knowledge of chemistry. The high temperatures developed by the electrical furnace and the intense cold made manifest by liquefying air are working revolutions in chemistry not dreamed of a few years ago; and the alchemist's dream of the transmutation of metals may yet be more than a dream. "If there is a point in natural philosophy which may be regarded as finally settled, it is the imperishability of the chem- ical elements and the everlasting duration of force. This means that with all the changes going on in the universe there is no destruction^no annihilation. Matter cannot be stricken from existence, neither can force. The mind of man, the life of ani- mals and plants, the movements of the amoebae, the oscillations of the ultimate atoms of matter, are all forces which never cease to exist, and which it is impossible to destroy. The in- numerable combinations and manifestations of matter are the output of the one primordial element; and so the infinite vari- ations of force proceed from the One Great Force, or Spirit, which is God. It is held that matter itself is an emanation from God, or that God created matter out of nothing; but this idea seems to me to be out of spnpathy with what we know of the universe, and the Power that rules it. 'In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.' This first sentence of the sacred writer conveys no intelligent conception to the reader, but rather opens the way for unanswerable ques- tioning. If there was a beginning, there was a time before the beginning. It is impossible that time could have had a beginning. Now, if God and matter had a beginning, before this beginning there was nothing but time. Time, in an ab- stract sense, is nothing; therefore, if God and matter had a Manhood. 165 beginning, before they began to be there was nothing. Out of nothing, nothing can come; therefore, there never was a time when God, at least, did not exist. If there ever was a time when matter did not exist, during that time God was idle, for he works only through matter; in fact, there is nothing else through which he can work. To say God ever spent his time in idleness is an assumption of man's ignorance; therefore, the only rational conclusion is that God and matter are both self- existent, coexistent, and eternal. Now, if God and matter have both existed from all eternity, there clearly was a time when God began to create the universe — not out of nothing, but out of matter coexisting with himself : and that time may reasonably be spoken of as the 'beginning' in Genesis. To ask when the time of that 'beginning' was is an idle question, but it is self-evident that the workman and the material must exist before the mechanism can commence. The conclusion, then, is that God and matter have both existed from all eternity, and that God, by his infinite power and knowledge, has fash- ioned the universe and all it contains just as he wanted it, and to suit himself. "Amongst the various combinations of matter he has seen fit to arrange, we find the especial combination known as brain- substance. This substance is found in the skulls of all ani- mals, birds, fishes, and many insects. It is only in the lowest forms of the animated creation where traces of this substance cannot be found. The substance itself, no matter whether in man, beast, or bird, has nearly the same composition, is ar- ranged in much the same manner, and is only different in quality, quantity, and function. ISTow, the difference in the ego of every animated creature, from man down to the lowest, is the difference in brain-substance. If God has seen fit to so arrange atoms and molecules into a substance that will reflect certain attributes of his substance, in the conscious life of the creatures of his own handiwork, thereby projecting himself, or certain attributes of himself, into the lives of his own creatures, who shall reply against God? What objection to the thought that he has so arranged the brain of the St. Bernard dog that that brain can appropriate, collect, and make manifest one of the noblest traits of the Deity, and send this humble servitor 166 The Lantern of Diogenes. upon a mission from tlie high Court of Heaven to save from cold and hunger and death the wayfarer who has lost his path in the Alpine snoAv? Is the thought heretical or sacrilegious, to suppose the song of the nightingale or the mocking-bird to be a discordant note of the Celestial Choir, tinkling through the brains of these musicians of the Avoods? Who shall say nay to the suggestion that the brain matter of the elephant, the horse, the camel, the ostrich, and the camivora are machines for the collection of fragmentary attributes of the Deity him- self, and making so much of him manifest in the conscious lives of these animals? Is God a material being, to be dismembered by such a thought? Away with your anthropomorphism! God is a spirit ; God is light ; God is love ; so says the inspired writer. Can spirit suffer disintegration or dismemberment? Does the light of the sun become less by striking a match, or lighting a candle? Can love be diminished by division? An- other thing : the instinct of the hive-bee, which enables the little insect to construct with mathematical nicety the cells of its comb, thereby utilizing space with as much economy as the finest and most accomplished engineer, is only a manifestation of God in the brain of the little worker. And so it is, wherever God has implanted life: in the towering oak and the trailing vine ; in the flower and the fruit ; in the microbe and the amcebse — life and all attributes of life can be nothing more than Deity manifesting himself. It may be objected to this view that, thereby, God would become the author of evil — that the birds of prey, the carnivorous animals, the fishes, reptiles and the poisonous serpent would be manifestations of his Spirit. Why not? If God's attributes are limited to power and knowl- edge, goodness, mercy, justice, and love, how is man to reflect his image? Is he any more just than the wild beast of the fprest? Is he merciful to the weak? Does he love his fellow- man? Eead his history in his wars of conquest. See the tortures he has inflicted upon innocence and helplessness. Be- hold the implements of destruction he has invented, by means of which God's guiltless creatures are slaughtered and his own kind murdered. If man is the complete image of God — then, who can find fault with the savage beast being a part of his image? Man has made the mistake of believing he is Manhood. 167 the only image of God — the personification of his Maker upon earth. The truth is, God, in making the brain of man, gave it the right of usufruct to one attribute of the divine essence, denied to the lower animals ; and this right makes the differ- ence between him and the brute. God is too great, and too powerful, and too perfect for man to be his sole representative. If the whole miiverse of matter was converted into one mass of brain-substance, it might represent all the attributes of Deity; but the brain of man falls as far short of this rep- resentation as it falls short of the size and weight of the uni- verse. It is no sacrilege to assert that God is manifested in the voracious shark, the venomous serpent, and the loathsome reptile. If these creatures are representatives of evil, why should man assume that a perfect God is too pure for such emanations to proceed from his essence when his word is di- rectly to the contrary ? 'I form the light and create darkness ; I make peace and create evil; I, the Lord, do all these things.' Man's brain being out of all proportion the largest, compared with the size of the body, of all God's creatures, we would naturally expect him to be endowed with more of the attributes of his Maker, and represent a more perfect image of the Divine essence. In addition to size, we have range of capacity, incom- parably greater than the lower animals. The brain of man is so constituted as to enable it to collect or to make manifest that particular divine attribute which enables him to think on abstract subjects, and which adds immeasurably to the scope of his mental attainments. Reason and its dependencies form an impassable gulf between man and the lower animals. The brute brain, by the arrangement of its molecules, or by the fiat of its Maker, has the power to develop instinct, a faculty as incomprehensible to man as reason is to the brute. That in- stinct is an attribute of God is as patent as any other fact in the psychology of animated nature. If God had seen fit to make the brain of man as perfect for the development of rea- son as he made the brute brain for the development of instinct, moral evil would have been an impossibility and mechanical failures never have existed. Man would have been a perfect being, and he would have needed no teacher. The Creator showed his wisdom here, as in all his other works ; for in mak- 168 The Lantern of Diogenes. ing man lie clearly wanted a creature who, by his own exertions, could make endless progress, and by bis failures gain wisdom, "The mythical Garden of Eden is only the spectral image of that imperfect brain cell, endeavoring to parallel its own weakness with the perfect wisdom of God. And so with the attributes of Deity as enumerated by the orthodox theologian. He is curtailed and limited to that extent that they found it necessary to invent the devil to account for the irregularities of the Universe. 'The foolishness of God is wiser than men,' and to limit him in any conceivable attribute is to detract from his perfection, and to think of him as a mere man. "This theory of the functional activity of brain-substance has its parallel in the workings of the various machines for the development of the electrical force, and if faulty, it is at least as plausible as any heretofore set forth. It explains, not how, but why, and through what particular organ the Deity manifests himself to his rational creatures, and simplifies that psychological indagation so earnestly pursued by students of nature. It also rids the mind of all anthropomorphic ideas, and j)laces God on a plane so far above man that such expres- sions as 'Thou shalt see my back parts ; but my face shall not be seen,' will be relegated to the Apocrypha, and the Sacred Volume purged of the embarrassing phraseology which leans toward ridicule and contempt." Here the traveler, entered his protest against this continua- tion of the material philosophy, and the endeavor of his ra- tionalistic friend to push reason into the inner arcanum of a subject which nothing but Revelation can bring to light. In the next chapter a review of the schoolmaster's position will be entered into, and the true Christian philosophy set forth by the man whose experience outweighs his reason. Matter and Spirit 169 CHAPTER XVI. MATTER AND SPIRIT. The walk toward Lome was about half finished, aud the traveler had become so interested in the schoolmaster's dis- course that he had forgotten his grievance, and, notwithstand- ing his settled conviction that human philosophy was a delu- sion, he could see some points in the old man's theory that appeared neither to antagonize Revelation nor to outrage com- mon sense. He felt that the schoolmaster was leaning a little to the side of Orthodoxy, and he desired to encourage that spiritual growth, the germ of which lay fallow in the mind of the teacher. To this end he spoke as follows : "My friend, you are more of a metaphysician than a theo- logian. You contend for mere abstractions, and blind yourself with illusions flowing from the self-conscious life of active in- telligence; aud in your attempt to harmonize our thought of our relation to God, you conjure up a phantasm of the imagi- uation, and flourish it about as a rational principle of the laws of causation. Your theory of the functional activity of brain- substance is a mere shadow of the mind groping in darkness, and the metaphysical necessity following that shadow is a chimerical abstraction leading to the great primeval ITothing. You would blot out the personality of God and plot a Pan- theistic Syncretism. You would annul his creative acts and make man a phenomenon of Evolution. This would destroy individuality and place the human soul in the category of in- sect and plant life. You preach Dualism, with a mixture of Pantheism. You labor under the capital vice of attempting to bring within the forms of the understanding what tran- scends the capacity of thought. "For ages, philosophers, instead of interpreting aright the fact of consciousness in external perception, laid it down as a first principle that the object known was different from the object perceived. This crotchet, accepted without examina- tion and transmitted in different forms, was never questioned until it brought forth the fruit of universal skepticism. In the same way, the principle that out of nothing, nothing can 170 The Lantern of Diogenes. be made, has been universally applied to nothing as material cause, and has not only excluded the possibility of creation, but contains in its bosom the seeds of absolute atheism. "Subject and object, mind and matter, as revealed in con- sciousness, though real substances, are limited, conditioned, de- pendent. They reciprocally condition each other. They are bound by time and space. The world presents an aspect of mutability, a successive influence of cause and effect, a constant interchange of action and reaction. Its history is a histoiy of vicissitudes. The world is finite. This is as clearly the testi- mony of consciousness as that the Avorld exists. It has no prin- ciple in it that resists succession and change. On the contrary, it is bound to time, which necessarily implies both. These two facts, that the world exists and that the world is finite, imply another, that the world must have begun. A succession without a beginning is a contradiction in terms. It is equiva- lent to eternal time. A being of whose existence time is the law cannot be eternal. A chain without a first link is impossi- ble, but a first link annihilates the notion of eternal being. The world, therefore, had a beginning. "Having reached this point, we are led to an inevitable dis- junction. If it had a beginning, it began spontaneously, or it sprang from a cause. An absolute commencement is not only inconceivable, but contradictory to that great law of intelligence which demands for every new appearance a cause. The world, therefore, must have been caused, but a cause which begins existence, creates ; therefore, the world must have been created. "There is still another step which we are authorized to take. As the finite is limited to time, and as time begins with the finite, the being who creates must be independent of time. That the first creature should have been made by a finite being, is equivalent to saying that time was before it began. It is, there- fore, a contradiction in terms, to attribute all beginning to the begim. The Creator, therefore, must be eternal and necessary. Creation makes the transition from nothing to something; hence, creation as an unconditioned exercise of power; as re- quiring neither material, instrument, nor laws; as transcending change, modifications, or adjustments of existing things, is the Matter and Spirit. 171 sole prerogative of God. It is His to create, as it is His to destroy. The principle is vital in theology." The two men had now reached a shady place in the road close to a stream of water; and the day being sultry, they de- cided to rest a bit before concluding their walk. After bath- ing face and hands in the stream, they seated themselves under a spreading beech tree to enjoy the refreshing breeze. The schoolmaster was a great admirer of Socrates, and endeavored in many ways to follow the example of the illustrious Greek. Like him, he never harangued or grew eloquent, but analyzed, disputed, and discussed. He asserted that all truth is kindred, and so clear thinking is consistent with holiness and leads to it, while inaccurate thinking on any subject is morally danger- ous, and an uncertainty or falsehood in the intellect might at last be found to be the "apex of hell." The orthodox view of the creation of the universe and the beginning of time pre- sented so many difficulties to a mind like his that he rejected the tenet as derogatory to God and inconsistent with the nature of matter and spirit. "If," said he, to his companion, "God created matter out of nothing, he created freely or he acted under compulsion or necessity. If he created under necessity, he is not free, but the subject of some other power, and is, therefore, neither Sover- eign nor Almighty. But God is free, almighty, sovereign, ab- solute; therefore, his acts of creation were voluntary — uncon- ditioned save by his own will. The nature of matter is such as to be incompatible with infinite goodness, infinite benev- olence and omnipotence. The vile combinations it assumes, the poisonous germs it evolves, and its offensiveness under putre- factive processes, make it impossible that it should be the cre- ative act of God without making God the author of evil. The creation of matter out of nothing involves another difficulty at variance with reason. If God is eternal and matter is not eternal, there clearly was a period when nothing existed but God, and if time only began wnth creation, that period prior to creation, let it be long or short, is unnamable and unthink- able. We get no relief by calling it eternity. A period prior to time, called eternity, in which nothing existed but God, would bring up such questions as. What was God doing in 172 The Lantern of Diogenes. this eternity? Was lie working out tlie problem of creation? "Was lie formulating laws by which matter, after its creation, should be governed? Was he thinking out plants and animals and men, or was he idly contemplating his own grandeur? The very thought of a period before time and before creation is repugnant to the common sense of man. Webster defines time as absolute or unmeasured duration. Time, it seems to me, is as independent of God as God is of time, and to speak of existence before time is simply nonsense. Time has ex- isted from all eternity and will exist to all eternity, but time is neither a material substance nor a spiritual essence. It is only an abstraction — a mental concept — and, therefore, can neither be created nor destroyed. "If God is not a separate existence from matter. Pantheism is the true philosophy and the divine religion ; for, if matter is an emanation from God, it is a part of him, and if he created it out of nothing, he is the father of it. There is no process of reasoning that can separate God from matter, and at the same time make him the author of it. The postulate, that God and matter are coexistent and eternal, makes an easy ex- planation to the phenomena of the universe. The chaos of Genesis is the state in which matter existed before God set to work in his acts of creation. It is neither irreverent nor sacri- legious to suppose that God saw the 'chaos,' the confusion, the want of law, the omnium, gatherum in which the particles of matter lay inert, lifeless, powerless — 'without form and void' — and that by his omnipotent and omniscient energy he fashioned and created the universe and all it contains. That he made the best universe possible out of the materials at his com- mand is to admit his infinite goodness. That he made it all to suit himself is to admit his sovereignty. "If, in the plenitude of his infinite benevolence, he saw fit to provide means of communication between himself and his rational creatures, thereby making himself partially known to the highest type of his creations — man — he was compelled, ne- cessitated, to so arrange the ultimate particles of matter into a combination, peculiarly different from all other combinations, that would have the particular quickening power of collect- ing, absorbing, or making manifest so much and no more of Matter and Spirit 173 the divine attributes. When I say, God was under the neces- sity of utilizing matter for the purpose of revealing himself, I only mean that he is limited to the possible ; for by and through matter are all things accomplished. That combination of matter known as brain-substance is the medium through which he has chosen to communicate with man, and by means of this substance alone has he made it possible for us to par- tially understand his nature and his works. A creature that could understand and comprehend the Godhead in its entirety would have required all the matter in the universe to be made into one gigantic man, and then, instead of a man, there would have been another God; so you see the utter impossibility of human knowledge ever extending to a full acquaintance with the Deity. But through brain-substance certain attributes of the Divine Being are communicated to every creature that breathes the breath of life ; and the quantity, quality, and shape of this brain-mass make the difference between the different creatures possessing it. If this theory of brain function be true, then the psychical life of every creature is determined solely by the size, shape, and quality of its brain; and to say that any creature — man not excepted — can be other than just what it is, is to say that its brain-matter can be changed by the creature itself. "That character is determined by brain is proved in so many ways that argument would seem supei*fluous, were it not that men refuse to abide by reason and experience. Hundreds of instances are recalled where the whole character of the man has been permanently changed by injuries to the brain ; the honest man has been changed into a thief ; the triithful man into a liar; the moral man into a libertine; the industrious man into a vagabond, and vice versa. Insanity is now recog- nized by physicians as the effect of brain lesion, and idiocy we all know to be a defect in brain-substance. Horsemen well know that the vicious habit of balking is often cured by a smart blow over the head, causing slight concussion of the brain. "!N'ow, admitting the validity of your reasoning, that 'an absolute commencement is not only inconceivable, but contrary to that great law of intelligence which demands for every 174 The Lantern of Diogenes. new appearance a cause,' I submit that character is caused; that the efficient cause of character is material, and that ma- terial is brain. All admit that the dynamo is the efficient cause of the power developed from the intangible, imponderable, incorporeal and tenuous electric fluid ; but the dynamo no more creates the electric fluid than the brain creates mind. The dynamo simply collects into an individual charge, from the great source of supply, and makes manifest the spark or the current, just as brain collects from the Great and Universal Spirit that which we call the Ego, the person, the individual, the man, the beast, bird, or fish." "My friend," broke in the traveler, "I am getting impatient with you. At times you speak as if you comprehended some of the great truths of Eevelation, and admitted their authen- ticity ; at others, you get entirely off the track and chase a phan- tasm of the imagination under the guise of reason. You per- sist in the attempt to trace the vital and spiritual inti'insical- ities of both animal and vegetable activity, through matter as efficient cause, to God as final cause, thereby destroying naan's personality and human responsibility — placing man on the same footing with the beast and vegetable, and making God the author of evil. Go to ! your philosophy is not only infi- delity, but absolute atheism. If brain-substance is the medium through which God reveals Himself to man, and by your theory it would require all the matter in the universe to be formed into a gigantic man before the Deity could be clearly compre- hended, w-liat, according to this theory, would become of the divinity of Jesus Christ, and that fundamental dogma of the Christian religion — the Holy Trinity? We have no account of the brain of Christ being any different from that of the men of His day, and to make His Sonship depend upon the size and shape of His brain would be to place Him on an equality with the balance of mankind. It would make Him different from the ordinary man only as Goldsmith was different from the miser Elwes, or as St. Paul was different from Rabelais. "In me is a perpetual miracle, and a living witness to the supernatural power of Christ; and if He be not risen from the dead, then 'are we of all men the most miserable.' " Matter and Spirit. 175 At this last touch of evangelical monomania, the schoolmas- ter's heart began to thump, and his excitable brain began to conjure up scenes of Corybantic extravagance, little in accord with the calm, philosophical deportment of his guest. For a moment he was unable to speak. The conversations had been so foreign to anything Quixotic, that he had almost forgotten the crotchet which first introduced him to his friend. After a little reflection, he decided to pass by this ethereal fancy, and draw him out on the great subject of Christ's divinity. 176 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER XYII. THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST. "I WOULD fain," began the teacher, ''have avoided this part of the subject, as we can have no foothold in a philosophical discussion, where the beginning and end, necessarily, rest on testimony which is valid to one man and invalid to another. But the statements in the testimony we have so conflict with one another that it is well enough to balance accounts and see which side is the heavier. "You claim that Christ is a Divine person, who rose from the dead after being crucified; that while on earth he wrought miracles in divers ways and brought the dead to life; the Church claims that he is God — very God. ''The testimony of a person on trial is sometimes of more im- portance than that of outside witnesses. We will let him tes- tify in his own behalf on this most vital point. "It is very clear that Jesus claimed to be the Son of God, but that he made this claim in any other sense than is allow- able to all men, has never been satisfactorily proven. His ene- mies drew inferences that were not justifiable by his words, and his friends as often mistook his meaning. The Jews set many traps to convict him of blasphemy, and as they had a law against his claim, as they understood it, finally succeeded in passing a legal sentence which insured his death. At his trial the high priest asked him this question : 'Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed V And Jesus said, 'I am.' This was enough. The vote was unanimous for his conviction of blasphemy, and the statute against blasphemy was death. Every believer, therefore, who holds to the divinity of Christ must agree with M. Salvador, that 'a Jew had no logical alternative to belief in the Godhead of Jesus Christ except the impera- tive duty of putting him to death.'* "After this, in a prayer he said : " 'O my Father, if it be possil)le, lot tliis cup pass from me ! never- theless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.' "Would a sane man pray to himself? *Bampton Lectures. The Diviniti; of Christ 111 ''And if Christ is God, was lie not praying to himself? In this prayer he clearly makes a distinction between his and the Father's will. In another place he says : " 'I seek not my own, but the will of my Father.' "Referring to his second coming, he said : " 'But of that day and that honr knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son. but the Father.' "Here he admits that the Father's knowledge is greater than his own. In a talk to his disciples concerning himself and the Father, he said : " 'I go unto the Father ; for my Father is greater than I.' " *If a man love me he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and make our abode with him.' "Was he not there clearly making a distinction between per- sons, viz., himself, his Father, and his disciple? Teaching in the temple one day Jesus declared himself to be the light of the world, when the Pharisees accused him of bearing record of himself, saying: 'Thy record is not true.' Jesus answered by saying : " 'It is written in your law that the testimony of two men is true. I am one that bear witness of myself, and the Father that sent me beareth witness of me.' "Here is an entire separation of his own personality and that of the Father. And I would like to know how it is pos- sible to make two witnesses out of one person." "O my soul!" exclaimed his companion, in anguish. "You step on holy ground with unwashed feet. You approach the mystery of mysteries as you would a problem in arithmetic; you would explain or destroy the Trinity. " 'I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.' " The schoolmaster was checkmated. As a reasoner he could not contend with prayer; as a philosopher he was disarmed 12 178 The Lantern of Diogenes. before the altar. "Perhaps," said he, "to discuss the mission of Jesus, and the doctrines he taught, would come more legiti- mately under the head of a philosophical discourse than to dis- cuss the nature of his being, or the divinity of his person ; and as his tenets are understood differently by different sects, a disagreement as to his true mission in life must be less offensive than to question his nature. "If he came here as a man only, no matter how exalted his nature, he was subject to the contingencies of life just as other men are; but if he was very God, as claimed by the Church, his plans were all worked out, and he knew from the beginning every incident of his life, from birth to the day of his death. This you are bound to admit or you must deny his divinity. Granting him this foreknowledge, no contingency can alter the fact ; no suppositions, no hypothecations, have the power to forestall the knowledge. He knew from all eternity that he would be ushered into the world through the Virgin Mary ; that one of his apostles would betray him ; that the Jewish Sanhedrim would condemn him to death ; that Pilate would wash his hands of the so-called crime ; that he would be crucified between two malefactors ; that Joseph would deposit his dead body in his own new tomb; that he would rise from the dead on the third day, and that he would be 'received up into heaven and sit on the right hand of God.' These things, if he was God, he knew would be certain to take place. He fur- thermore knew u'hich one of his disciples would betray him, for he predicted it in these words : " 'Now, I tell you before it come, that when it is come to pass, ye may believe that I am he.' "Upon being asked, 'Which one?' he answered: " 'He it is to whom I sliall give a sop when I hUA-e clipped it. And when he had dipped the sop he gave it to Judas Iscariot.' 'And after the sop, Satan entered into him. Then said Jesus unto him, That thou doest, do quickly.' " Judas Iscariot. 179 CHAPTER XVIII. JUDAS ISCARIOT. "Judas has been accused of being a thief prior to this sup- per, but if Christ was God, and Judas was a thief before he received the sop, Christ knew it when he chose him for his disciple ; but it is expressly said in the text that Satan entered into him after he had taken the sop. "To an unprejudiced mind this would look much like cause and effect. If Christ was God, knowing Judas to be a thief before taking him as one of his apostles, and delegating him with authority and 'power against unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of sickness and all manner of dis- ease'; and bidding him to go forth and 'preach, saying, the Kingdom of heaven is at hand' ; and to 'heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, and cast out devils'; and advising him, 'When you come into a house, salute it, and if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it : but if it be not worthy, let your peace return to you; and whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when you depart out of that house shake off the dust of your feet for a testimony against them' ; and telling him furthermore that 'Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven; but whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven'; and worse than all, saying to this man whom he knew to be a devil: 'Think not that 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, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-m- law' — I submit that such counsel and such a lecture to a wicked man, after delegating him with such fearful power, could pro- duce nothing but evil consequences, even in the ordinary con- tingencies of life; but spoken by an all-wise and omnipotent Being to a frail mortal, of weak intellect and cursed with the basest of human passions, it would, indeed, have been better for that man had he never been bom. 180 The Lantern of Diogenes. "A purely intellectual view, stripped of the glamour of re- ligious sentiment, of this whole transaction, as related in the gospels, makes Judas the most helpless, the most pitiable, the most tragical wretch who ever lived upon this earth. Chosen by an Omnipotent Being to perpetrate a predetermined crime; tempted by a deadly insult of this same being without provoca- tion ; called a devil, and the 'Son of perdition' ; selected of all men for the delivery of his master into the hands of his ene- mies, and this 'by the determinate council and foreknowledge of God,' Judas deserves commiseration even in hell. "In reporting this blood-curdling tragedy to the Father, Jesus Christ says : "'Those whom thon gavest me have I kept; and uoue of them is lost, but the Son of perdition.' "And why was this Son of perdition lost? Was it because he was a thief? iN'o. Was it because he was a devil? No. Was it because he betrayed his master? ISTo. Then why was he lost? Let Christ himself answer: 'That the Scripture may he fulfilled.' "Now, let me ask you in the name of justice and mercy, what Judas had to do Avith this denouement. In anticipation I would say there are but two possible answers : the one scrip- tural and the other philosophical — or rather unphilosophical. The scriptural answer is ad hominem — the reply of the tyrant to the victim — the answer the wolf gave to the lamb. St. Paul expressed it in these words : " 'Who art thou, man, that repliest against God ; hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honor and another unto dishonor?' "Plu-ri-bus-tah expressed it more vulgarly when he gave 'Cuffee' his reason for enslaving him : " 'I am white and I am stronger ; You are black and you are weaker, And, besides, you have no business And no right to be a nigger.' "The philosophical answer takes you back to that egotistical principle in man which dominates the religious world, and Judas Iscariot 181 blinds tlie creature with the image of the Creator, until he is ready to assert, 'I am that I am.' That self-love and self-deifi- cation which overpowers man in his search for truth, places his will on an equality with the will of his Maker, and looks upon reason as an intruder, whose presence is contaminating, and whose company is only fit for the denizens of the lower regions. "If Judas, by his own will power, could have abstained from this treacheiy, would not his will have been more power- ful than the will of God? Leaving out the moral and religious aspect of this tragedy, tell me if the causes operating upon Judas, over which he had no control, were not sufficient to compel him to the act. And, being compelled, irresistibly driven by a will infinitely above his own, the cruelty and malig- nancy of Mephistopheles himself must quail at the horrible in- justice of his sentence. "You accuse me of infidelity. Is it strange that a book, claiming to be the word of God, bearing such records as this ; detailing in hoiTor the trial, sentence, and execution of a vio- lator of the statute law of the country he was born in; call- ing a man who was honored by God himself to the dignity of treasurer of finance, a thief, a devil, the son of perdition ; used as henchman to execute an order made 'by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God,' and consigning this man to endless torture for no reason under heaven save 'that the Scrip- ture might be fulfilled' — I ask in the name of all that is just and holy, if such a book, read and studied with a view to what it really means, is not calculated to make infidels of all honest men?" 182 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER XIX. JOB. ''Take the case of Job, 'a perfect and upright man,' a man in whom there was no frailty; smitten as no other man ever was, both in person and effects ; by whom and for what cause ? By God, with the exception of the boils (for it seems the devil was allowed that pleasure), for no cause under heaven unless it was to gratify Satan. In a conversation with this fiend about Job, the narrative makes God say to Satan : " 'Thou movetlst me against him, to destroy him without cause.' "xlnd the same makes Job say of God, that he 'multiplieth my wounds without cause'; and has God to commend Job for speaking of him 'the thing that is right.' "Now, to afflict anybody or anything, without cause, is the act of a tyrant, and savors more of demonology than theology. While this story of Job is one of the most beautiful romances that ever was conceived in the brain of man, it is incorporated in a book which the Christian world claims to be the word of God; and, as such, they are bound to believe it to be the statement of an historical fact ; and whoever doubts its truth as set forth in the narrative is an infidel, and perjures him- self when he joins a Christian church. "If this story had been found in the writings of Confucius, in the Yedas, the Koran, or the book of Mormon, the Chris- tian world would have rejected it as a heathen slander of the Almighty. From any other than a Christian standpoint, the gist of it would be as follows : God being very proud of having performed a piece of flawless work, he calls Satan's at- tention in a sort of boastful manner to the beauty of his handi- work, and invites his criticism. "Satan being a devotee of imperfection, advises a test, cruel, heartless, and destructive, which nothing but a masterpiece could withstand. Failing in this, he calls for another, when God, doubting his own ability to devise any torture cruel enough to shake the integi'ity of Job, places him in the hands of Satan with the sole condition of sparing his life. Now, it is well Job. 183 enough to know who this Satan is, whose good opinion and whose admiration God appears to be soliciting. Palgrave says : " 'The legendary Satan is a being wholly distinct from the the- ological Lucifer. He is never ennobled by the sullen dignity of the fallen angel. No traces of celestial origin are to be discovered on his brow. He is not a rebellious peon who was once clothed in radi- ance, but he is the fiend, the enemy, evil from all time past in his very essence, foul and degraded, cowardly and impure ; his rage is ofteuest impotent, unless his cunning can assist his power.' "Into the hands of this fiend God places the only perfect man who ever lived on this earth. Satan, believing no man's in- tegrity can withstand physical torture, covers him with a solid sore from head to foot. Job sits down on a dung-heap and scrapes off the filth with a broken pot lid. Here he bewails his calamities, and curses the day of his birth. " 'Let the day perish,' he says, 'wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, a man-child is conceived. Why did I not die in the womb, why did I not perish at once when I came out of the belly? Why is light given to him that is in misery, and life to them that are in bitterness of soul?' "Like all good men, Job not only believed in moral excellence, but he was profoundly religious. He had been reared and educated in that school which, to-day, in another form, teaches the doctrine of rewards and punishments. His moral recti- tude and his experience had combined to give a staggering blow to this belief, when his three best friends came preaching the doctrine in its most offensive form. Feeling from the bottom of his heart that he, in his own case, was a sure contradiction of what he had learned to believe, he himself finds his very faith in God shaken from its foundation. The creed in which he had believed had been tried and found wanting. He is vehe- ment, desperate, reckless. His language is the wild, natural outpouring of suffering. The friends, true to the eternal na- ture of man, are grave, solemn, and indignant, preaching their half truth, and mistaken only in supposing that it is the whole ; speaking, as all such persons would speak, and still do speak, in defending what they consider sacred truth against the as- 184 The Lantern of Diogenes. saults of folly and skepticism. Hearing of their friend's mis- fortune and sickness, they resolve to visit and comfort him. " 'And when they bad lit'tetl up their eyes afar off they knew him not, and crying out they wept, and rending their gnrments they sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven.' "So changed was Job, so altered in appearance, that at first sight they did not recognize him. From the dignified, high- toned, cultured gentleman of wealth and leisure, they found a dirty, miserable wretch sprawling in the dirt, crying out in the bitterness of his anguish : " 'Before I eat I sigh ; and as overflowing waters, so is my roaring.' "Now, the object of this visit was that of pure sympathy, 'for they had made an appointment to come together and visit him, and comfort him. And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no man spoke to him a word : for they saw that his grief was very great.' During these seven days the friends had ample opportunity to study Job's case, and to philosophize over his misfortune. It seems that Eliphaz, the Temanite, being a strong believer in the philoso- phy of cause and effect, and being superstitious as to dreams, for he says 'in the horror of a vision by night a spirit passed before me, and I heard the voice as it were of a gentle wind,' and being desirous to lead Job back into the path of moral rectitude, and to convince him that his own conduct had brought his misfortunes upon him, gently insinuated his unwelcome advice by pleading excuse for his presumption, said to Job : " 'If we begin to speak to thee, perhaps thou wilt take it ill. but who can withhold the words he hath conceived?' "And then to let Job know that man is a free moral agent, whose will determines his actions, and, let the consequences be what they may, the responsibility should rest upon his own shoulder, said to him : " 'Nothing upon the earth is done without a (-lusc. and sorrcnv doth not spring out of the ground. Remember, I pray thee, who- ever perished being innocent? or when were the just destroyed? On the contrary, I have seen those who work iniquity, perishing by the blast of God, and consumed by the spirit of his wrath.' Job. 185 "The immense distance between Job and his friend is seen in the scornful reply of the sick man : " 'You dress n[) speeches,' said las •only to rebuke, and you utter words to the wind. You rush in upon the fatherless, and you endeavor to ov<>rthrow your friend.' "Whether or not this taunt put a momentary blush upon the brow of Eliphaz, it is certain that Bildad, his Shuhite friend, immediately came to his assistance, and in the lofty tones of outraged decency upbraided Job in language more fitted to a criminal than to one suffering at the hands of inexorable fate. " 'How long.' said he, 'wilt thou sjieak these things, and how long shall the words of thy mouth be like a strong wind? Doth God pervert judgment, or doth the Almighty overthrow that which is just?' "Job seems to have had little patience with Bildad, and in a few words demolished his theory by asserting a fact. He must have pitied these men in their narrow view of God's providence, and rather than reason from insufficient data, he preferred to quash a false theory by showing that it could not be built upon the facts of existence. Addressing Bildad, he said, in very emphatic language : " 'One thing there is that I have spoken, both the innocent and the wicked he eonsumeth. If he scourge, let him kill at once, and not laugh at the i)ains of the innocent.' "Job's short reply to Bildad seems to have given umbrage to Zophar, his third friend, who now offered his consolation in these words : "'Shall not he that speaketh much hear also? or shall a man full of talk be justitied? Shall men hold their peace to thee only? and when thou hast mocketl others, shall no man confute thee? For thou hast said : my word is pure, and I am clean in thy sight.' "Job now began to feel a little resentful toward these men, who no doubt came with the best of motives, and really in- tended Job a service, but whose way of looking at things was so different from that of the sick man that to them he is a blasphemer whom they gaze at with awe and terror. Into the high faith of Job they could not rise, and the sublime thought 186 The Lantern of Diogenes. of this devout sufferer appeared to them gross impiety. The irritation he felt was shown in his answer to Zophar : " 'He that is mocked by his friend as I, shall call uijon God and he will bear him : for the simiilicity of the just man is laiighetl to scorn.' ''How like, these friends, to the rigidly righteous of the pres- ent day! Eeady at all times to interpret the mind of Om- niscience, they set a seal upon their neighbor's conduct, and rest assured that God will confirm their verdict, and punish or condone as they decide. But the everlasting fate of man is not in the hands of his fellows. "ISTotwithstanding Job's protest, notwithstanding his dis- pleasure at their unjust accusations, the friends continue their polemics on the same line, through a long chapter of repeti- tions; and when, at last, the vocabulary is exhausted, and Job is not yet confounded, it seems that another — one Elihu — a self-important, pretentious young man who, without invitation, had obtruded himself into this company, became very angry, not only with Job, but his three friends, because they had failed to convince him of sin, and get his acknowledgment. "Where Elihu came from, and what business he had at this man's house, the account does not state; but we may well im- agine him to be a youth of decent parentage, having the ad- vantage of wealth and culture; for he showed evidence of good breeding by holding his tongue while the others spoke; in fact, he apologized for putting in at all, but he was so full, and had such an overweening opinion of his own abilities, that he felt like bursting if he did not give vent to his knowledge. Addressing the three friends, he said : " 'I am younger In days, and you are more ancient, therefore, hanging down my head, I was afraid to show yon my opinion ; for I hoped that greater age would speak, and that uniltitude of years would teach wisdom. But as I see, they that are aged are not the wise men, neither do the ancients understand judgment; therefore, I will speak: Hearken to me; I also will show yon my wisdom. As long as I thought you said something, I considered ; but as I see there is none of you that can convince Job, and answer his words, I also will answer my part, and will show ray knowledge; for I am full of matter to speak of, and the spirit of my bowels stx'aighteneth me. Job. 187 Behold, my belly is as new wine which wanteth vent ; I will speak and take breath a little; I will open my lips, and will answer.' "Elihu tlieu delivered a sermon on tlie Theodice, but it fell upon deaf ears, for neither Job nor his friends took the slight- est notice of what he said. The story ends by the interfer- ence of God, who not only upholds Job, but condemns the friends for not speaking of him 'the thing that is right,' as Job did. The final restoration of Job to wealth and happiness has a measure of compensation, in strong contrast to the utter abandonment of Judas — both being helpless in the hands of Supernatural Power." "N^ow, my Christian friend," continued the teacher, "if you can show that either Judas or Job was a free moral agent, i. e., had it in their power, surrounded and overpowered as they were by the spirit of Omnipotence, to w^ork out their own salvation, I am ready and willing to receive the lesson." 188 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER XX. THE LESSON. The time passed unconsciously in tlie cool sliade of the beecli tree, while the schoolmaster discoursed and his companion lis- tened. The sun had tilted his rays, and the oppressive heat began to abate. It was time to walk. The impression made upon the traveler by the teacher's criticism was that of weari- ness and pain. He had a longing desire to help the old gentle- man, and for once he wished for the power of the Christ, that he might remove the scales from the eyes of his friend. The two men walked a goodly distance, both in deep meditation. The mind of the traveler was beset with many temptations, but fear- ing the consequences, he took his steps in silence. If he could only get the schoolmaster out of the rut of materialism, if he could once reconcile him to the supernatural, the way might open to a recognition of God's Avays with fallen man. The traveler acknowledged the unvarying law of cause and effect, but he would not permit the Parcop to decide what he would eat for breakfast, or whether he would go to bed at 9 or 10 o'clock at night. He could not divest his mind of the determining power of will as a jus divinum, or admit that will followed the inevitable law of sequence to anterior cause. He said to himself, ''I crook my finger or hold it straight, shake my head or hold it still, talk to this schoolmaster or remain silent, walk this road or stop, just as I choose. I am the primal law over my own actions." He made up his mind from appearances. What he saw he was sure of, and what he heard was, to him, a fact. His feelings and his perceptions overruled his reason. He gave faith the highest seat in the galaxy of mental traits, and fed it with the grist from his o^vn experience. An abstract idea was invariably rejected, when it appeared to conflict with a concrete reality. The earth, to him, was flat, because it looked flat. He believed the sun, moon, and stars were placed in the heavens to give light and warmth to earth, and for that only. He was not a bigot, for he was ''sovereign o'er transmuted ill"; he would not persecute, be- The Lesson. 189 cause lie was a good man. He believed in tlie God of Moses, in Jesus Christ, and in Revelation. He believed every word in tlie Book, and he believed it to be the word of God. He was a Christian in the true sense of the word, for he had the testi- mony of his own senses, or thought he had, that the Crucified was, veritably, the Son of God. He had seen him with his own eyes, and witnessed his death. He was suffering from his benign resentment now, as he had been for twenty centuries past. He believed the sentence to be just, and had ceased to complain. "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth," and his ac^ ceptance of this truth had given him great comfort in his affliction. He loved his fellow-man, and would have loved his enemies — but he had none. With these reflections passing rapidly through his mind, he was endeavoring to formulate an argument, or a statement which he hoped might divert his friend's attention from the material to the spiritual aspect of the religious problem; and, without dogmatism or bigotry, but rather in a spirit of humil- ity and sorrow, he spoke as follows : "To bring men together on a disputed point is a difficult matter, unless the premises from which they draw their con- clusions can be agreed upon, or, at least, until the categories of thought are traced to their origin. x\s I said to you on another occasion, formal thought floats in the air with no foothold. We cannot tell what can or cannot be ; we can only inquire what is, or, at least, what seems to be. In the concrete region the only test of possibility apart from the purely negative and formal one of noncontradiction is experience. Hence, we have no way of forming judgments of things past except by appeal to life. Life as it has been throughout the ages is not the same to all men. If testimony is to be regarded only as it conforms to formal thought, then all history is a romance, and faith should no longer control the actions of men. "When you tell me that you went to college in your early manhood, that you have spent most of your life in teaching, and that you have never assumed the responsibilities of married life, I have not the slightest right, either in reason or my own experience, to doubt your statements ; and so, when I relate 190 The Lantern of Diogenes. some incidents of my boyhood, youtli, and early manhood, it is strictly within the limits of reason and probability that you accept my story as a statement of facts. "Replying to your criticism of the Gospel story of Judas Iscariot, and the justness of his sentence, I will state that Judas was about my own age, and of the same class of society as myself. "We were boys together, and I kneAV him well. He lived in the countiy, but often came to town. I played with him on the streets, and sometimes went with him to his father's house. It was a poor family, and Judas hated poverty. He was ever on the qui vive to get a penny. He hated work, and even as a boy he was constantly devising plans by which to get advantage. He was not cruel, nor was he considered dishonest, but sharp, shrewd, a good trader, and quite a financier for his age. Like the character given by our historian Josephus to Cain, he was Vholly intent upon getting.' "Our paths separated as we grew up, and for a time we lost sight of each other. When Jesus began to be talked about, I heard of Judas as one of his followers. They told me he had been made treasurer, and carried the 'bag,' and I said. 'Well ! Judas is now fixed — he will gain an heritage.' "The Savior foresaw that he Avould be betrayed, and that a horrible death awaited him; and while I admit that this was done by the 'determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God,' I do not admit and cannot agree that any particular individual was selected by this council, and forced, noleiis volens, to exe- cute the sentence. The law of cause and effect is, to a great extent, abrogated when the human will links itself into that endless chain which you so artistically forged in a previous conversation. The 'twisted link,' so graphically put, as the in- verse or antithetical agent, is man's freedom. It is the image of God in man, and it gives him power to do or not to do, and rejects that atheistical fatalism toward which your short- sighted philosophy tends. It is a self-evident truth that you and I are now engaged in this conversation of our own free wills and accord ; that we can close our mouths, if we so choose, and not speak another word; that we have it in our power to stop, and stand still for an hour, or walk on, and this independently of outside influences or extraneous causes. Our present inclina- The Lesson. 191 tions prompt us to walk and to talk, but the uiomont our wills should say, 'Stop and hush,' the inclinations would be effectu- ally banished before the power of will. Man's will is the only free cause in the universe outside of God, and, bcdng a free cause, it has the virtue of a first cause. ' Iscariot's will was free to betray his Master or not, as Adam's will was free to eat the forbidden fruit, as your will is free to listen to my speech, as my will is free to talk or to close my lips. Fine- spun theories, quiddities, and disparagement of self-evident truths lead the mind into Cimmerian darkness. Your philoso- phy would destroy volition, and make the mind of man a blind force, like gravitation or the law of chemical affinity. It would destroy human law and overthrow society and civilization. It would do worse: it would extend to the Source of all Light, and make God a machine with no attribute save that of Power. "In working out conclusions every fact subservient to a theory must be taken into consideration. In your theory of the func- tional activity of brain-substance you admit what you deny here. The emotions, the passions, even brute instinct, are given a place there, while here all is excluded except the barbed shafts of pitiless reason. The human will has ever been the odium theologicum of religious controversy, and until it is rec- ognized as a free cause, and the only free cause except the uncaused will of God, there will be wranglings and disagree- ments. Logic is the passing bell of religion, the Golgotha of worship. It has no place in love, affection, nor in the hu- manities. It is cold and lifeless; it is the gospel of dirt. In- fidelity limits the mind of man to one faculty. It ignores the senses, the affections and the feelings. It would make of reason a god, and degrade the other faculties into a fetich. Religion, on the contrary, embraces every faculty of mind. It tempers reason by the sweet influences of the affections, and controls the affections by the iron grip of reason. Working in discord, they give us Paganism ; in harmony, they give us Christianity. "The case of Job is the old question: 'Why does God al- low the good to suffer?' The presence or absence of Satan in the case adds nothing to the problem and subtracts nothing from it. The great answer of the Scriptures and of Chris- tianity is found in the suffering Savior. If he would not ex- 192 The Lantern of Diogenes. empt liimself from pain, it is no impeachment of liis love that He exempts not his children. It is by suffering that men come into Divine fellowship, nor does it appear that they can come otherwise. If there was no way that the cup might pass from the Savior, in revealing His infinite love, may it not be equally true that this love can only be measured through the same kind of experience? Wherefore, St. Paul prays that he may ^enter into the fellowship of His sufferings,' and be made 'con- formable unto His death.' "If the suffering of the good be a mystery, even when we see the God incarnate, author of pain and peace, enter the list of sufferers, how much deeper is the darkness when the problem of pain is viewed from an unchristian or antichristian standpoint! How shall the deist who denies the revelation of a suffering Savior explain the great cataclysmic disasters which, at times, overwhelm men? But if the best — the only perfect — being who ever trod this planet was the Man of Sorrows, we may be sure pain is not evil, nor exemption from it the chief- est good. If the end of being is exemption from pain, the best means of attaining to it are, as Froude says, 'a hard heart and a good digestion.' " An Interlude. 193 CHAPTEE XXI. AN INTERLUDE. Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes When Monarch Reason sleeps. — Dryden. They had reached home and it was almost dark. They were tired and hungry, and after eating a frugal supper they soon went to bed. They slept well — both of them, but the school- master awoke about day, with the recollection of having had a most extraordinary dream. Had he been tinctured with the least bit of superstition he would have regarded this as a warn- ing, but his philosophy and his utter repudiation of the super- natural enabled him to look upon it as one of the vagaries of unconscious cerebration. So profoundly realistic was the im- pression made upon his mind by this dream that, immediately upon bidding his guest good morning, he said : ''I have some- thing to tell you. I am not a believer in dreams, in omens, nor in visions ; but when I woke up this morning a most real- istic picture was stamped upon my memory, and the impression was so vivid that, for several minutes, I felt as if it w^as a real substance, and not a hieroglyph of the drowsy god of sleep. "I was in an immense plain, a desert of wild, weary waste — of lifeless solitude. From the center of this plain radiated in all directions well-beaten roads, and I could see, from what appeared immeasurable distance, that all the roads converged toward a common center; and in this center, upon a slight elevation of the ground, stood an immense stiiicture or build- ing which glittered in the dazzling radiance of the plain. As- tonished at my situation, and wondering where I could be, I gazed around and saw the roads go into illimitable space from the central convergence. I knew not what to do, nor where to go. I could see that if I went tOAvard the center I would get to a resting place, but in the other direction I saw no end. To the center I directed my steps, and on the way I saw signboards on which was written : 'To the Temple of Wisdom.' On the other side of the road were signboards pointing in the 13 194 The Lantern of Diogenes. opposite direction : 'To the end of strife.' I couldn't under- stand wliat these backward directions meant, until I met a pilgrim who had been on a mission that thousands of others had preceded him in, and many thousands would yet follow in his footsteps. He had been up to the temple in search of wis- dom, and the contrary Avinds had blown out his lamp. He told me that Minerva was no longer there; that long ago she had abdicated her throne, and that from the highest pinnacle of the edifice floated the red flag of religious controversy; that philosophers, theologians, metaphysicians, scientists, and agnos- tics crowded in and around the temple, seeking their own cult, and gazing, with dazzled eyes and wistful care, at the flaunting banner of controversy ; that on the flag was written in all char- acters and all languages. Volition, Choice, Liberty, Scope, Lati- tude, Freedom, Discretion, Eate, Necessity, Foreordination, Election, Doom; and, that every one who visited the place be- came dissatisfied at the little consolation he received; for at every nook and every corner stood a sentinel and a guide, each blind in his own conceit, and carrying in his hand a little red flag with which he pointed to the flaming banner at the top of the temple. "The Methodist was there, and on his flag was painted in letters of gold. Choice, Liberty, Freedom. He waved it over my head, and told me that 'iN'ow is the accepted time.' "A little further on, and the Baptist held up his flag. On it was written, in subdued tints. Freedom, I^ecessity. He told me, almost in a whisper, that he had 'Compassed sea and land to make one pro' — when a little beyond him a rough- looking, plainly dressed man, Avith a charity-begins-at-home air, motioned me to look: and his little flag had printed in bold black letters, Election, Foreordination, Doom. As I passed by, he whispered in my ear, 'We are the chosen of the Lord.' This was a 'Hardshell.' "Then the Episcopalian held up his flag, and it was painted in particolors, and had for its motto, 'The Church.' "A few steps further, I struck up with a Jew and a Moham- medan. They were in a controversy over the 'scapegoat' and the Parcae. An Interlude. 195 "Leaving them to their wranglings, I turned a corner, and ahnost ran into the arms of an Old School Presbyterian. He was a dignified, calm-looking old gentleman, and when I made excuse for my precipitancy, instead of a benediction, he gave me a severe look, and held out his flag, upon which was writ- ten in most somber hues : " 'By the decree of God, for the manifestation of His glory, some men and angels are predestined unto everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting death. These angels and men, thus pre- destined and foreordained, are particularly and unchangeably de- signed, and their number is so certain and definite that it cannot be either increased or diminished.' "I bowed, said 'Yes, sir,' and went on. Passing through the center of the building, I came to a sort of anteroom or mez- zanine floor, in which was collected a most heterogeneous com- pany. Some of them were washing one another's feet, others anointing with oil, and two or three jumping up and down slapping their hands together and crying, 'Glory !' In one cor- ner of the room sat, bolt upright, stiff as statues, a half dozen others, with their hats on, saying nothing. One of them had a flag, and on it was written : 'Waiting for the Spirit.' "I let him wait, and went on. Following down a long cor- ridor, I came to a large hall where a lecture was going on. The speaker was a pale, cadaverous-looking young man, who was just graduated from a famous university, and his subject was 'Transcendental Empiricism.' I listened a while, and, fail- ing to catch the thread of his discourse, I went on my way, and presently stumbled into a hall of revelry. Here w^as a jollifica- tion — eating, drinking, and making merry. Toasts were be- ing called for, and ribald jests added to the cheer. Just as I entered the door, a sleek, red-faced, good-natured fellow, dressed in the height of fashion, held up a glass of sparkling wine and called out : " 'To the God of mirth, the only Deity in the universe deserving the homage of a rational mind.' "Cheer upon cheer followed this priggism, and I passed on to the end of the corridor. 196 The Lantern of Diogenes. ''On the outside, a few steps from the main court of the temple, in a little summer-house, surrounded by evergreens and overrun with trailing vines, I found a man who is worthy of a description. He was sitting in an easy chair, looking upward at the temple and its throng, the last rays of sunlight reflected from the gorgeous gold flowers of a splendidly embroidered costume. Patent-leather pumps, a red cassock, a short purple mantle, and a red hat with small crown and broad brim, with co.rds and tassels hanging from it, served to mark him a con- spicuous object. His face, lividly pale, but for the energy of his action and strength of his lungs, would mark him the victim of consumption. His eye is black as Erebus, and has the most mocking, lying-in-wait sort of expression conceivable. His mouth is alive with a kind of working and impatient nervous- ness, and when he has burst forth, as he does constantly, with a particularly successful cataract of expression, it assumes a curl of triumphant scorn that would be worthy of Mephisto- pheles. ''Our conversation naturally turned on the temple and its votaries. I might as w^ell attempt to gather up the foam of the sea as to convey an idea of the extraordinary language in which he clothed his description. He talked like a race horse approaching the winning post, every muscle in action. His egotism stands unrivaled. It is admirable in its sublimity. Be- fore it I took off my hat. The Protestant elect thinks he is chosen, the Jew believes, but this man Jcnoivs. His commis- sion is from Heaven, and the scorn with which he views the heresy of other sects is shown in the curl of his lip and the depth of his dark, burning eyes. With all this, he can be mild as the zephyr wind. Now and again he smiles that wondrous, contagious smile, showing his white teeth, and carrying with it the persuasion of the soul. "After this, he said: " 'My sou, thou art dishearteued. Thou hast done well to come to me. The light of the world is represented in our cult, and ou the broad bosom of our mother — the Church militant — you will tiud rest for your weary feet, and peace to your troubled mind. Take either road from this place; they all lead to the one goal, where Protestant errors are corrected and forgiven, infidel tendencies up- An Interlude. 197 rooted, and the soul is purified and made fit for its celestial habita- tion. Our mother surrounds this plain, and her hovering wings would brood the whole world. Go, and delay not : may the blessings of the Church descend upon you.' "I bade the good mau adieu, and I am on my way. Come, go with, me; you will get no help at the temple. The Oracle has ceased to give answers, and the pedantic horde swarming around the ancient shrine can give you no light. The truth is, that no powers of mind constitute a security against errors in belief. Touching God and His ways with man, the highest human faculties can discover little more than the meanest. In theology, the interval is small indeed between Aristotle and a child, between Archimedes and a naked savage. It is not strange, therefore, that wise men, weary of investigation, tor- mented by uncertainty, longing to believe something and yet seeing objections to everything, should submit themselves ab- solutely to teachers who, with fimi and undoubting faith, lay claim to a supernatural commission. It is better to submit ourselves to the guidance of those who claim help from on High, than to wrangle with the Jew and the Mohammedan, the Protestant and Schismatic, the Scientist and Agnostic. "Here, I woke up, and before I could get rid of this mental obfuscation, I came near calling out to the man — but he was gone, and I realized that it was only a dream. Our conversation yesterday evidently predisposed to this drowsy conceit, and as it points directly to our discussion of human volition, I will add, or rather reply to your seeming philosophical argiiment, by pointing out the hidden sophism which obscures the per- ception. "The last asylum of the hard-pressed advocate of the doctrine of uncaused volition is usually that, argue as you like, he has a profound and ineradicable consciousness of what he calls the freedom of his will. You avail yourself of this solecism in your illustration of crooking your finger, shaking your head, etc. We cannot surely mean that actions have so little connec- tion with motive, inclinations, and circumstances, that one does not follow with a certain degree of uniformity from the other, and that one affords no inference by which we can con- 198 The Lantern of Diogenes. elude the existence of the other, for these are plain and ac- knowledged matters of fact. By liberty, then, Ave can only mean a power of acting or not acting according to the deter- minations of the iviJi: that is, if we choose to remain at rest, we may; if we choose to move, we also may. Now, this hypo- thetical liberty is universally allowed to belong to every one who is not a prisoner and in chains. Here, then, is no dispute. Half the controversies about freedom of the Avill would have had no existence if this truthful observation had been well pondered by those who oppose the doctrine of necessity. For they rest upon the absurd presumption that the proposition, 'I can do as I like,' is contradictory to the doctrine of neces- sity. The ansAver is, nobody doubts that, at any rate within certain limits, you can do as you like. But what determines your likings and dislikings ? Did you make your oaa^u consti- tution ? Is it your contrivance that one thing is pleasant and an- other is painful? And even if it AA'ere, Avhy did you prefer to make it after one fashion rather than the other? The passion- ate assertion of the consciousness of their freedom, AA'hich is the faA'orite refuge of the opponents of the doctrine of necessity, is mere futility, for nobody denies it. What they really have to do, if they would upset the necessarian argimient, is to prove that they are free to associate any emotion whatever with any idea whatCA^er ; to like pain as much as pleasure ; A'ice as much as A'irtue ; in short, to prove that, whatcA^er may be the fixity of order of the universe of things, that of thought is given over to chance. If you AA^ould see the Avorkings of uncaused volition and perfect freedom of VAall, visit the wards of a lunatic asylum and converse with its inmates. Here, cause is giA-en over to chance, volition is without motive, and action represents con- fusion. The orderly sequence of cause and effect is inter- rupted and the result is chaos." The Teachings of Jesus. 199 CHAPTER XXII. THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS. Breakfast over, the two men continued their conversation. The schoolmaster had studied for many years the Xew Testa- ment, and studied it as he would any other book — to get the true sense of its teaching. Whenever he opened the Sacred Volume he did it reverently, without any thought to a dogma, a creed, or a church. He was willing for it to be the word of God, and he didn't care if it was simply the thoughts of men. He an- alyzed, sifted, dissected the book as he would any pet theoi-y of a secular philosopher. He didn't care what it taught, so he understood its teaching. Calling his friend's attention to the old family Bible, he said to him: ''That book is little read and less studied by a majority of those who make the greatest pretentions to a belief in its teachings. They seem to be afraid of it, and to discuss it is thought to be a sin. Like the un- profitable servant, they seem to think the best plan is to wrap their talent in a napkin and hide it. "Believing it our duty to find out the truth so far as we are able, I would call your attention, first, to the sermon on the Mount, which is claimed by the Christian world to be beyond all praise. Outside of the moral precepts it contains (and they belong to all religions), the most prominent features of the whole sermon are the inculcation of selfishness and a disregard of the duties of the present life. It foists egotism in the human heart, and would flatter man that he is on an equality with his Maker. It makes God haggle and barter with man, and offer him a bribe. In that short sermon, which can be delivered in ten minutes, there are eighteen premimns offered, and twelve threats made. "The 14th and 15th verses of the 6th chapter of Matthew are fair illustrations of the coax and drive style of the whole sermon. " 'For if you will forgive men their offenses, your heavenly Father will forgive you also your offenses. But if you will not forgive men, neither will your Father forgive you.' 200 The Lantern of Diogenes. "Here is a clear case of God's sovereignty being given over to iiis creature — man. If any act of God can be determined by any act of man, then God is not sovereign and man liolds the j)recedent. That Almighty God's will can be made subservient to a feeling engendered in the heart of sinful man is a travesty upon Omniscience. If you will forgive, God will forgive you; but if you will not forgive, God will not forgive you. Here the order of cause and effect is reversed, and God's will is made dependent upon a human sentiment. "A trade, a bargain, between God and man ! "I once heard a good preacher say that man was the only be- ing in the universe who would stand up before God, shake his fist in his face, and defy him. How could such a rabid passion ever enter into a man except upon the idea of equality, and where could that idea come from except from the Sacred Vol- ume? The Sermon on the Mount is an exalted egotism. It is a placing of the finite above the Infinite — making God subservient to man. It does more: it promises rewards for do- ing one's duty, and offers bribes for the impossible. " 'Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the chil- dren of God.' "Why not simply, 'Blessed are the peacemakers'? Why the reward? Is not the self-consciousness of having made peace between enemies sufficient ? "Rewards and punishments are the basic elements of the ISTew Testament teaching. " 'Love your enemies.' "This is a hard command, and there is much doubt as to the possibility of its uti possidetis, or appertainment. "A man may cease to hate, may forgive and let his enemies go their way; but to love them is beyond human nature. The Scriptures represent God, even, as continually working against his enemies, and devising means for their destruction. Jesus himself, who gave the command, never loved his, and never asked a blessing on them until he was helpless on the Cross. In his prime he hurled anathemas against them, and on one occasion said: " 'As for those my enemies, who would not have me reigu over them, bring hither, and kill them before me.' The Teachings of Jesus. 201 ''Should a lawmaker give a coiiiniaud to others which he will uot obey himself? Does God violate his own laws? Then, indeed, is he on a level with man. "Another objection to the teachings of Jesus is, his ignoring this world, and his utter repudiation of eveiything that is useful in this life. " 'But I say unto you, uot to resist evil.' "Suppose men were to even attempt to folloAV this injunction, could they live in this world? It is useless to make comment on the absurdity of such a proposition. Life is a conflict, an everlasting war with evil. When evil preponderates in any- thing, destruction follows. To resist evil is the very essence of life. If this w^orld, and life in this world, is unworthy of man's serious thought and attention, then God, in his creative acts, made a most lamentable blunder. "The whole tenor of the Sacred Volume, from the first plant- ing of the Garden of Eden doAvn to the crucifixion of Jesus, is a detailed account of an ignorant, repentant deity who, in order to maintain himself, and support his throne, is compelled to exercise that arbitrary power which none can take from him.' The banishing of the first family from the Garden ; the flood ; the destruction of the cities of the plain, and the sacrifice of his only begotten son, serve to show the makeshifts of an igno- rant god. The Jehovah of the Bible is only the blurred image from that materio-psychic organism ensconced within the cranial walls of one who had killed his man and yet had talked with God face to face. The God of the Jew is simply what Moses w^ould have been if he could. The great God of this universe is a different being from the Jehovah of the Old Testament. He manifests himself in every blade of grass, in every flower; in the birds of the air, and in the fishes of the sea. Emerson goes even further, and says : 'The true doctrine of omnipres- ence is that God reappears with all his parts in every moss and cobweb.' He it is whom Paul spoke of as the 'Unknown God.' Man will never know him. He is too great, there is too much of him ever to be inclosed in the skull of a man. That Jesus Christ was God is only the concept of men, Avho had become dis- satisfied with the God of Moses ; and whether they bettered it is to be seen in a further study of his teachings. 202 The Lantern of Diogenes. "Men are judged nowadays largely by tlie company they keep, and nothing can give stronger evidence of a man's taste than his daily associations. The sympathetic side of a good man's na- ture will naturally take him to the poor, the downcast, the ignorant, and the afflicted ; but when he deserts his best friends, and forsakes those who are in sympathy with him and would aid him in his work, to grovel Avith the canaille, the question naturally arises, 'Is this man the highest type of humanity?' ''The first account we have of the manhood of Jesus in the gospel of Matthew is when John the Baptist heralded him to the world in terms which, to a man of refined feelings, ought to have secured to John a fast friend to the last day of his life ; for John, in his enthusiasm, made public announcement of him in these words : "'I, indeed, baptize you witti water uuto repentance; but be tbat Cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear : he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire.' "And when Jesus went to John for baptism himself, John ]3rotested, and said: " 'I have need to be baptized by you.' "Was ever loyalty more directly submitted from one man to another? Can friendship extend further? Here was a holy man, the first organizer of a new religious rite, offering to stand aside, and to place another in his stead; to become secondary in his own work, to exalt another above himself. What is the plain duty of man to man in a case like this? What did John deserve at the hands of Jesus? What did he get ? Pitiful, sorrowful, ignominious to relate ! John fell under the ban of Herod, got into prison and was beheaded. Jesus Christ, your God-man, who censured others for not visit- ing those in prison, never went near him ; but what did he do ? Let the Scriptures tell : " 'Now, when Jesus had heard that John was cast into prison, he departed into Galilee; aud leaving Nazareth, he came and dwelt in Caperuanm, wliicli is upon the seacoast.' "Abandoned his friend to the hot walls of a tropic dungeon, and during his entire imprisonment, which was about a year, The Teachings of Jesus. 203 never sent a message of condolence, nor of inquiry as to bis healtli or comfort. But even in prison, John never forgot Jesus, for he sent two of his disciples after hearing of his works, to inquire if he was really the Christ, or whether he should look for another. This would seem like a strange message, coming from one who had testified to the Sonship of Jesus, and proclaimed him as the 'Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the Avorld'; but when we consider that prison walls have a language of their own, which we learn to interpret in the dark solitude of friendless proscription, we may not marvel that John — even John the Baptist, as 'a prophet ! yea, more than a prophet,' should translate the monotonous silence of his confine- ment into S}anbols of doubt. Yes, John doubted, and no won- der. He could not be sure ; he Avanted assurance from the lips of him he loved. The answer given to the messengers is char- acteristic : " 'Go and relate to Jolm what you have heard and seen : the blind see. the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear ; the dead rise again, the poor have the gospel preached to them. Blessed is he that shall not be offended in me.' "There is not an instance in the old Bible where Jehovah, the God of Moses, ever deserted a friend. Is the 'Son' a degen- erate, or has ingratitude become a vii*t,ue? We next hear of him as having a ridiculous bout with the devil, and 'From that time he began to preach.' Like all organizers of a new cult, Jesus felt the need of followers, and the first man 'called' is the most contemptible character in all the book. Peter! That name, in the far distant future, when lying and thieving shall have become obsolete in the affairs of men, will be a byword and a reproach— a scandalization of the rock upon which the Christian Church is built. No structure can stand forever upon a foundation of falsehood. The Omnipotent Be- ing who set this universe in motion will not permit it. Peter, O Peter! Thou colossus of mendacity! Thou renegade, thou father of false pretense! Of what inconceivable wick- edness have men been guilty that thou shouldst be set over them for a spiritual guide? Peter, the pretender, who followed his Master in prosperity, and deserted him in adversity ! Peter, 204 The Lantern of Diogenes. the rock upon which the Christian Church is built, who fol- lowed 'afar off' when the Master was taken, and sat by the fire doAvnstairs at the trial; who cursed and SAvore that he never knew the man ! Peter, whom the Savior upon one occa- sion rebuked — as Satan. Peter, who never went near, nor in- quired one word concerning his Master from the time of his trial to his resurrection; yes, Peter, the liar, who had the effrontery to rebuke Ananias, into whose hands the keys of heaven were given, and who told a lie upon poor old Judas long after he was dead! Peter, I say, is the poltroon of the Bible, the most contemptible character in the whole book. "Matthew says that Judas took the money back to those he got it from and, repenting, went off and hanged himself. Peter says he bought land with it, and falling headlong burst himself open. Which is the more likely story? So much for Peter. If he repented, I am glad of it; if he reformed and became a truthful man, I am gladder still. Many there are who fol- low after Peter to this day, imitate and admire him, love and cherish his memoiy, and expect to enter heaven by the same means Peter avoided arrest at the trial of the Master. These people will plan a terrible retribution for the author of this enthymeme, and consign his soul to perdition; but truth is mighty and will prevail, falsehood will go back into the pri- meval JN^othing, and sin and shame will pale in the radiant light of the God of truth. "A third objection to the teachings of Jesus is that he makes an impossible condition in the salvation of man. Instead of basing salvation upon an act, or actions, possible, at least, for every man to do, he bases it upon an emotion of the mind which it is not in the power of man to control : Faith in him and love to himself. Fidelity to his teachings, and that alone, is to give man a seat in the celestial choir. No matter if a man spends his whole life in doing good, never once having an evil thought, or committing an unlawful act; no matter how hard he may try to believe in the Triune Godhead, if he fails in the least bit to give absolute, unswerving assent to this dogma, he is consigned to eternal and everlasting torment. On the other hand, he may be a liar, a thief, a robber, a The Teachings of Jesus. 205 ravislier of women, a murderer ; he may be steeped in sin of every conceivable kind tliroughout a whole lifetime ; never hav- ing done a good deed in all the time allotted to man on this earth, never having had a single pure thought from the hour of his birth to a moment before death, — " 'An act of coutritiou flashing with the rapidity of lightning through the soul of a dying man, may utterly and entirely change the character of his soul and his relations to God, so that he who was before the enemy of God, a rebel, loathsome and deserving of hatred, becomes at the A'ery next instant, by a sort of magic trans- formation, the friend of God, his loyal subject, beautiful and worthy of His love. In such a case as this, good and not good, obedient and not obedient, meet for Heaven and not meet for Heaven, are true of the same object within two seconds of fleeting time."* "Stephen Girard, the millionaire philanthropist of the City of Brotherly Love, who, perhaps, made the only honest fortune ever accumulated in these United States ; who left a monument of charity-work behind him unequaled in this world — a school, a home, food and raiment — for the homeless and fatherless children of Philadelphia, has been preached into hell by min- isters of the Gospel, whom this man's charity, this anti-Chris- tian's love of orphan children, had taken up out of the gutters and alleys of a great city and raised — fed, clothed, and edu- cated. They are obliged to do it or give up the Gospel of Christ; Stephen Girard was an Infidel. "The fourth and last objection which I shall speak of in the teachings of Jesus is that he came for the purpose of saving only a few of the people of this world, leaving the others to take care of themselves as best they may. Missionaries may go into foreign lands and preach to the heathen. Christian ministers may insist that the Gospel of Christ includes every creature, and the Bible may be translated into every tongue that is spoken on this earth, but the words of Jesus himself are more in evidence than any theory of the Church, or Papal Bull issu- ing from the Vatican. "That the Gospel of Christ does not include all mankind is evidenced from the general tenor of its teaching, but is more ♦Catholic Philosophy (Logic), page 39 (Stonyhurst Series). 206 The Lantern of Diogenes. particularly marked in tlie directions given to the Apostles af- ter having received their commissions : " 'These twelve Jesus sent forth, and commauded them, saying : Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samari- tans enter ye not. But go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.' ''Here is a positive command from Jesus, right in the be- ginning of his ministry, when there could be no question of his real presence, with all his faculties in mecliis rebus, and not a doubt in the mind of any one of his apostles. How is this to be compared with that mythical command, after his resur- rection, when 'some doubted,' which says : " 'Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.' "In one particular instance Jesus himself shows with what contempt and indifference he looked upon outsiders. "On the coasts of Tyre and Sidon lived a poor woman of Canaan. She had a daughter who was 'grievously troubled by a devil.' Jesus passing along that way, this woman ap- j)roached him in the interest of her daughter, and humbly begged him for help. He not only ignored her request, but refused positively to speak to her. The Book says, 'He answered her not a word.' She, in her distress, became persistent and importunate, thereby annoying his disciples, w^ho, tiring of her entreaties, besought the Master to send her aw^ay. His answer to this request of his disciples shows that he did not consider this poor w^oman, at least, to be a subject of his mercy: " 'I was sent but to the sheep that are lost of the house of Israel.' "x\nd, in a prayer to the Father, he said : " 'I pray for them : I pray not for the world, but for them whom thou hast given me ; because they are thine.* "The fourth chapter of Mark teaches very plainly that he did not intend to instruct the multitude to whom he preached, but rather to confuse them, for he says : '"To you (his disciples) it is given to know the mystery of the Kingdom of God : but to them that are without, all things are done The Teachings of Jesus. 207 iu parables; that seeiui,', they may see and not perceive, and hearing, they may hear and not understand ; lest at any time they should be converted, and tlieir sins should be forgiven them.' ''But the Syroplioeuician woman was not to be deterred by the imkindness of the disciples, nor, as it appears, by the un- seemly speech of Jesus. She was in sore trouble over the afflic- tion of her daughter, and she was ready to sacrifice herself for the sake of her child. Then it was that she fell down at his feet and cried out, 'Lord, help me !' She actually worshiped him, and even after this homage, his answer to her was as coarse and churlish as the desertion of John in prison : '"It is not good to talce the bread of the children and cast it to the dogs.' "And only after this afflicted mother cowered and degraded herself to the level of dogs did he condescend to aid her. 'Yes, Lord,' she says, 'yet the dogs under the table eat of the chil- dren's crumbs.' This sharp retort, it seems, struck a vein of humor, scorn or pity, or whatever feeling you may call it; for he said to her : "'For this saying, go thy way; the devil is gone out of thy daughter.' "Pagan religions, in the estimation of Christians, have all been instituted, organized, and kept in operation by the devil, while theirs is the chant of angels and the voice of Almighty God echoing on forever by virtue of its lofty sentiments, its inherent beauty, and its imselfish love. Krishna, as you know, was the God incarnate of the Hindus, as Jesus was the in- carnate God of the Christians. They both taught men how to pray. "Jesus said: " 'Give us this day our daily bread.' "Krishna said : " 'Lord, I do not want wealth, nor children, nor learning.' "Jesus said : " "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.' 208 The Lantern of Diogenes. "Krishna said: " 'If it be thy will, I will go to a hundred hells, but grant me this, that I may love thee without the hope of reward — unselfishly love for love's sake.' "Jesus said : " 'Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.' "I know a good old man, a scholar, a gentleman, a preacher of the Gospel — who will not repeat that line in the Lord's prayer. He will not even talk about it. Can't you imagine why? "What does it imply? I leave it to your own reflection. "One of the disciples of Krishna, the then Emperor of In- dia, was driven from his throne by his enemies, and had to take shelter in a forest of the Himalayas with his queen, and there one day the queen was asking him how it was that he, the most virtuous of men, should suffer so much misery : "'Behold, my queen, the Himalayas, how beautiful they are; I love them. They do not give me anything, but my nature is to love the grand, the beautiful ; therefore, I love them. Similarly, I love the Lord. He is the source of all beauty, of all sublimity. He is the only object to be loved : My nature is to love him, and, there- fore, I love. I do not pray for anything ; I do not ask for anything. Let him place me where he likes. I love him for love's sake. I cannot trade in love.' "Is there a sentiment in the ISTew Testament as pure, as un- selfish, as exalted as this ? 'I cannot trade in love.' Is not the whole scheme of Christian salvation a trade between God and man? How dare the Christian missionary say to the Hindus, 'Thou art anathema in the sight of God'? But wherefore con- tend? I heard a good old Baptist brother, an educator of w^omen, the head of a great institution of learning in the proudest State of this Union, say : " 'If I knew the Christian religion was a Tie from beginning to end, I would not give it up.' "He was in love with Peter. The lantern of Diogenes will never shine in the face of sitch a man. Egotheism is the bed rock, the root and branch of Christianity." The Answer, 209 CHAPTER XXIII. THE ANSWER. The schoolmaster's friend had heen engaged in silent prayer. He had listened to this criticism, not in anger, nor witli im- patience or disgust, but in amazement at the recusancy of hu- man reason. He sat face to face with an old man — a con- scientious, honest, truthful old man — a man who had spent his whole lifetime in the acquisition of knowledge, and in impart- ing it to others. He had been a teacher the better half of a century, and never had he turned off a boy because he did not have the means to pay for instruction. He had picked up young men, working at common labor for a pittance, and taught them to read, write, and cipher ; taught them to be men, and he had seen many of them adorn the professions, and become highly influential citizens. He not only taught them books, but he gave daily lessons in morals and ethical culture. He was a friend to the poor, and especially to the young poor, who desired to go up rather than to stand still. Many a respectable teacher, competent lawyer, high-toned physician, and lovable minister of the Gospel owed their start and standing to the encourage- ment and aid of this old infidel schoolmaster. A few of the rigidly righteous frowaied upon him, and regarded him as a "corrupter of youth," but the general consent of the com- munity in which he was known gave the verdict of oddity, and not of vilipendency to his character. He had owned slaves at one time, but under his stewardship they might have been called dependent freedmen. He censured that law of the South which forbade the education of negroes. He was for upbuilding, elevating all mankind. He was, withal, a veiy religious man. He believed in the One, Only, Almighty God, and to this God of Knowledge and Power he rendered his homage. He was not a Christian, and this gave distress to his friend. The traveler, since he had been with the schoolmaster, had studied his character closely. He knew that a belief in the Divinity of Christ could never be attained solely through the 14 210 The Lantern of Diogenes. reasoning faculties. Men had to become as little children first. How was this octogenarian to be born again? If he had been a bad man, a drunkard, a roue, a scoffer even, he would have hope of touching the tender chord; but here was a clean char- acter — a true follower of the example and precepts of the One whom he denied; and this denial was a source of unutterable distress to the man who had learned to love him. How to get at this man's heart was the thing uppermost in the mind of the traveler. He would appeal to his reason, and try him with his own logic. If at all successful, he would, later on, try the emo- tional side of his nature. Rousing himself from his revery, and making a last silent invocation to the Source of all Light, he said to the school- master: ''From the standpoint of a deist, your criticism is rational, logical, and conclusive ; but an argmnent consisting of only two propositions, an antecedent and a consequent de- duced from it, is like a syllogism with one premise omitted — it ends in 'Paralogical doubt.' Enthjanematical reasoning is the harlequinade of sophistry. It plays the Merry-andrew, and befuddles the intellect with its clownish tricks. In your exaggeration of man's vanity and egotism, you lose sight again of your own argument of the functional activity of brain-sub- stance. The moment you get away from the material, and come in contact with the spiritual, you begin to doubt the power of God. Your own admission makes man the largest and clearest image of God in all his works ; and yet you call Christianity an Egotheism, because it claims that God came amongst us in the shape of a man. "Bend your faith a little more in the direction of your scien- tific theology, and you will have less trouble with the Man-God of the Christian world. If the brain of the average man has the power, as you admit, and argue that it has, to collect and for- mulate into an individual substance or entity that which we call the mind, and that entity really is a part and parcel of God himself, then, by analogy, comparing the coarsest with the finest of human brains, where is the limit to God's power of making brain-substance fine enough to collect all his attributes within the compass of one human brain ? The elephant and the humming-bird are made of the same material, yet the hum- The Answer. 211 ming-bird's heart beats twenty times faster than the elephant's. The muscles of the humming-bird's wings contract, perliaps, five hundred times while the elephant's leg muscle contracts once. This little bird's wings flap so rapidly that they give out a musical note. This is the difference between fineness and coarseness. Railroad bars and watch-springs are made of the same material. One railroad bar made into hair-springs of the finest watches would sell for enough to build the Union Pacific Road. It is only a matter of fineness. The Australian sav- age and Sir Isaac Newton had brain-substance very much alike, and of the same material. The difference in their minds is mainly a matter of fineness or coarseness of brain-substance. ISTow, if Sir Isaac's brain could collect so much more of tlie Divine attributes than that of the savage, where is the limit of God's power to refine brain-substance ? I take you on your own grounds — we will argue from the same standpoint, and let reason be the arbiter. "We have the account of a man who, it is believed, had within himself every attribute of Almighty God. Knowing what we do about matter in its different states, I see no reason why, from your own point of view, the brain of Jesus Christ should not be fine enough to take in every attribute of the Deity, and make him God also. The same reasoning would make every man a demigod, and your thrust at Christian Ego- theism and man's egotism loses its bitterness, and places man in his right relation with his Maker. If Henry Ward Beecher laid aside his reason when he accepted the Trinity, it was be- cause he had not studied the mutual relations of matter and spirit, the interdependence of one upon the other in the mani- festation of thought. You seem to be on the right track at times, but you stop short of the consequent of your own phi- losophy. If God can impart a portion of his attributes to man without detracting from Himself, why can He not impart all? Don't you see that your own philosophical deductions, carried to their ultimate conclusions, can make Christ God, and yet leave God intact, thereby making two Gods, and at the same time having only one? Take a familiar example from the mathematics as an illustration: No Divine Power can set aside the law that all the angles of a triangle are equal to two 212 The Lantern of Diogenes. right angles. This is a truth as eternal as God is eternal. It existed before the world was, and will exist to all eternity. It is absolutely impossible that in any portion of the universe, actual or possible, that this truth can be a falsehood. It is susceptible of demonstration to the satisfaction of all cultivated minds. No man ever did or ever will doubt this truth whose mind is sufficiently developed and cultivated to comprehend its proof. It was a truth before any human mind ever recog- nized it, and will remain a truth after every mind on this earth is possessed of it. It is one truth among thousands, and it is only one truth, but it exists in China as well as in America ; in Ethiopia as well as in England. It is everywhere ; still it is only one truth. You have it, but your neighbor has not. You give it to him, and then he has it, but that does not take it from you. You both have it; twenty, a hundred, a thousand men have it, still it is but one. "God is no more a Material Being than truth is a material entity; then, why not two, three Gods: a million demigods, and yet but one God ? Truth exists whether you know it or not ; so with God. If it be desirable to know truth, it is equally desirable to know God. We can know Him a little just as we know a little truth. The Trinity is not a supernatural, un- reasonable dogma, and is no more of a mystery than truth is a mystery. If we accept the one, why not accept the other? You must give up your theory of the functional activity of brain-substance, or else admit our Blessed Trinity. "Having arrived at the Godhood of Christ by a process of reasoning similar to your own, your criticism of his teachings loses its acrimony and falls limp at your feet. Think over it, my friend, and let your reason look on both sides of every mooted question. I don't propose to preach you a sermon now. Perhaps, later on, I may have something to say about the ignorance of man and the folly of intellectual pride." The schoolmaster's mind had gotten on a different line of thought. His materialism was becoming more thoroughly mixed with spiritualism. His Gargantuan mass of brain-substance was dwindling away into a Liliputian morsel. He was begin- ning to see that, in the realm of thought, quality had more weight than quantity. Sir Isaac's brain Avas but little larger The Answer. 213 than that of the Australian savage. An ounce of watch-spring was no bigger than an ounce of railroad bar. The humming- bird was much smaller than the elephant. Gross matter had bulk, fine matter had strength. The ant could carry a stone larger than its body, and the flea could hop a hundred times its own length. If the savage brain represented one unit, and Newton's brain represented a thousand units, what might not the brain of Christ represent? The thought was appalling. Doubter that he was, he began to doubt his doubt. To the God of his conception he granted infinite power over all possible things. In the brains of animals and men he saw a finite series of energies for the development of the Divine attributes ; why not an infinite series? If the brain of Jesus ended the series, and that series terminated nowhere, what right had he to criticise his work upon earth ? As well might he criticise God for the cyclone and the earthquake, the storm and the shipwreck. His explanation of the origin of evil, by a mal- adroit movement in forging the chain of cause and effect, pos- sibly, might have extended to the copying, the translating, and the interpretation of obscure passages in the Gospels, and left a misshapen link in his own mind which under a more careful manipulation of the reasoning powers might be straightened, polished, and set in harmony with the rest of the chain. This might be a possible condition, notwithstanding the inspiration of the writers, and the painstaking efforts of the copyists, the translators, and the interpreters. He admitted the gigantic power of error, and its exhaustless energy. His philosophy began to assume an ugly shape. These reflections wound themselves in and out of the old man's mind after the traveler had ceased to talk. He did not say a word. They both got up and walked off into the fields and the woods. They viewed nature and talked about nature — the birds, the trees, the growing crops; and when they got tired, returned to the house, both of them in a good humor. 214 The Lantern of Diogenes. CHAPTER XXiy. GOING TO CHURCH. The next day was Sunday, and the sclioolmaster asked his friend if he would like to go to the "preachment," as he some- times called it. The church building was but a short distance from the old man's residence, and the congregation, at that time, was presided over by an eminent divine who, in after years, became famous as the cure of the '^Church of the Stran- gers" in Xew York City. As an additional tribute to the memory of a real character, whose mode of thought is largely depicted in this book, I may quote from a popular Sunday magazine in which the writer said: "Some years ago, among the churclies to which the editor of this magazine ministered in North Carolina was one called 'Smith's Chapel.' It would seat about two hundred white and one hundred colored people, but in that climate a large part of the year a con- siderable portion of the congregation sat outside. The nearest house to this little chai)el was the dwelling of a gentleman who was one of the most famous school-teachers in his native State. He was the college mate of James K. Polk, and the first time we ever saw him was when he had just completed a walk of fifty miles to meet his old college friend at the university. "Mr. John G. Eliot got his middle initial from his resemblance to a ghost. He was usually known as 'Mr. Ghost Eliot.' Small, thin, washed out by multitudinous ablutions, built after the architectural design of an interrogation mark, with a disproportionately large head, the white hair on which was cropped to a length measured exactly by the thickness of the comb, he was a man whose appear- ance attracted attention everywhere. In some departments he was very learned, and his solid acquirements dominated his eccentricities and won for him the respect of a large class of citizens. He was what the colored people would call 'a powerful hearer of de Word.' Upon warm days he would walk into the meeting-house, throw his coat, if he had one, over the back of his seat, pull off his shoes to cool his understanding, and, propping his head against his left hand and supporting his left elbow with his right hand, he set himself to penetrate the speaker with augur eyes. The thing his soul most hated was nonsense. He had no kind of reverence. He would take up a slave or the Archbishop of Canterbury with e