Chapter 43

So it may be said that nothing is much more miraculous than the fact that intelligent men believe in miracles. If we read in the annals of China that several thousand years ago five thousand people were fed on one sandwich, and that several sandwiches were left over after the feast, there are few intelligent men--except, it may be, the editors of religious weeklies--who would credit the statement. But many intelligent people, reading a like story in the Hebrew, or in the Greek, or in a mistranslation from either of these languages, accept the story without a doubt.

So if we should find in the records of the Indians that a celebrated medicine-man of their tribe used to induce devils to leave crazy people and take up their abode in wild swine, very few people would believe the story.

I believe it is true that the priest of one religion has never had the slightest confidence in the priest of any other religion.

My own opinion is, that nature is just as wonderful one time as another; that that which occurs to-day is just as miraculous as anything that ever happened; that nothing is more wonderful than that we live--that we think--that we convey our thoughts by speech, by gestures, by pictures.

Nothing is more wonderful than the growth of grass--the production of seed--the bud, the blossom and the fruit. In other words, we are surrounded by the inexplicable.

All that happens in conformity with what we know, we call natural; and that which is said to have happened, not in conformity with what we know, we say is wonderful; and that which we believe to have happened contrary to what we know, we call the miraculous.

I think the truth is, that nothing ever happened except in a natural way; that behind every effect has been an efficient cause, and that this wondrous procession of causes and effects has never been, and never will be, broken. In other words, there is nothing superior to the universe--nothing that can interfere with this procession of causes and effects. I believe in no miracles in the theological sense. My opinion is that the universe is, forever has been, and forever will be, perfectly natural.

Whenever a religion has been founded among barbarians and ignorant people, the founder has appealed to miracle as a kind of credential --as an evidence that he is in partnership with some higher power. The credulity of savagery made this easy. But at last we have discovered that there is no necessary relation between the miraculous and the moral. Whenever a man's reason is developed to that point that he sees the reasonableness of a thing, he needs no miracle to convince him. It is only ignorance or cunning that appeals to the miraculous.

There is another thing, and that is this: Truth relies upon itself --that is to say, upon the perceived relation between itself and all other truths. If you tell the facts, you need not appeal to a miracle. It is only a mistake or a falsehood, that needs to be propped and buttressed by wonders and miracles.

_Question_. What is your explanation of the miracles referred to in the Old and New Testaments?

_Answer_. In the first place, a miracle cannot be explained. If it is a real miracle, there is no explanation. If it can be explained, then the miracle disappears, and the thing was done in accordance with the facts and forces of nature.

In a time when not one it may be in thousands could read or write, when language was rude, and when the signs by which thoughts were conveyed were few and inadequate, it was very easy to make mistakes, and nothing is more natural than for a mistake to grow into a miracle. In an ignorant age, history for the most part depended upon memory. It was handed down from the old in their dotage, to the young without judgment. The old always thought that the early days were wonderful--that the world was wearing out because they were. The past looked at through the haze of memory, became exaggerated, gigantic. Their fathers were stronger than they, and their grandfathers far superior to their fathers, and so on until they reached men who had the habit of living about a thousand years.

In my judgment, everything in the Old Testament contrary to the experience of the civilized world, is false. I do not say that those who told the stories knew that they were false, or that those who wrote them suspected that they were not true. Thousands and thousands of lies are told by honest stupidity and believed by innocent credulity. Then again, cunning takes advantage of ignorance, and so far as I know, though all the history of the world a good many people have endeavored to make a living without work.

I am perfectly convinced of the integrity of nature--that the elements are eternally the same--that the chemical affinities and hatreds know no shadow of turning--that just so many atoms of one kind combine with so many atoms of another, and that the relative numbers have never changed and never will change. I am satisfied that the attraction of gravitation is a permanent institution; that the laws of motion have been the same that they forever will be. There is no chance, there is no caprice. Behind every effect is a cause, and every effect must in its turn become a cause, and only that is produced which a cause of necessity produces.

_Question_. What do you think of Madame Blavatsky and her school of Theosophists? Do you believe Madame Blavatsky does or has done the wonderful things related of her? Have you seen or known of any Theosophical or esoteric marvels?

_Answer_. I think wonders are about the same in this country that they are in India, and nothing appears more likely to me simply because it is surrounded with the mist of antiquity. In my judgment, Madame Blavatsky has never done any wonderful things--that is to say, anything not in perfect accordance with the facts of nature.

I know nothing of esoteric marvels. In one sense, everything that exists is a marvel, and the probability is that if we knew the history of one grain of sand we would know the history of the universe. I regard the universe as a unit. Everything that happens is only a different aspect of that unit. There is no room for the marvelous--there is no space in which it can operate--there is no fulcrum for its lever. The universe is already occupied with the natural. The ground is all taken.

It may be that all these people are perfectly honest, and imagine that they have had wonderful experiences. I know but little of the Theosophists--but little of the Spiritualists. It has always seemed to me that the messages received by Spiritualists are remarkably unimportant--that they tell us but little about the other world, and just as little about this--that if all the messages supposed to have come from angelic lips, or spiritual lips, were destroyed, certainly the literature of the world would lose but little. Some of these people are exceedingly intelligent, and whenever they say any good thing, I imagine that it was produced in their brain, and that it came from no other world. I have no right to pass upon their honesty. Most of them may be sincere. It may be that all the founders of religions have really supposed themselves to be inspired--believed that they held conversations with angels and Gods. It seems to be easy for some people to get in such a frame of mind that their thoughts become realities, their dreams substances, and their very hopes palpable.

Personally, I have no sort of confidence in these messages from the other world. There may be mesmeric forces--there may be an odic force. It may be that some people can tell of what another is thinking. I have seen no such people--at least I am not acquainted with them--and my own opinion is that no such persons exist.

_Question_. Do you believe the spirits of the dead come back to earth?

_Answer_. I do not. I do not say that the spirits do not come back. I simply say that I know nothing on the subject. I do not believe in such spirits, simply for the reason that I have no evidence upon which to base such a belief. I do not say there are no such spirits, for the reason that my knowledge is limited, and I know of no way of demonstrating the non-existence of spirits.

It may be that man lives forever, and it may be that what we call life ends with what we call death. I have had no experience beyond the grave, and very little back of birth. Consequently, I cannot say that I have a belief on this subject. I can simply say that I have no knowledge on this subject, and know of no fact in nature that I would use as the corner-stone of a belief.

_Question_. Do you believe in the resurrection of the body?

_Answer_. My answer to that is about the same as to the other question. I do not believe in the resurrection of the body. It seems to me an exceedingly absurd belief--and yet I do not know. I am told, and I suppose I believe, that the atoms that are in me have been in many other people, and in many other forms of life, and I suppose at death the atoms forming my body go back to the earth and are used in countless forms. These facts, or what I suppose to be facts, render a belief in the resurrection of the body impossible to me.

We get atoms to support our body from what we eat. Now, if a cannibal should eat a missionary, and certain atoms belonging to the missionary should be used by the cannibal in his body, and the cannibal should then die while the atoms of the missionary formed part of his flesh, to whom would these atoms belong in the morning of the resurrection?

Then again, science teaches us that there is a kind of balance between animal and vegetable life, and that probably all men and all animals have been trees, and all trees have been animals; so that the probability is that the atoms that are now in us have been, as I said in the first place, in millions of other people. Now, if this be so, there cannot be atoms enough in the morning of the resurrection, because, if the atoms are given to the first men, that belonged to the first men when they died, there will certainly be no atoms for the last men.

Consequently, I am compelled to say that I do not believe in the resurrection of the body.*

[* From notes found among Colonel Ingersoll's papers.]

TOLSTOY AND LITERATURE.

_Question_. What is your opinion of Count Leo Tolstoy?

_Answer_. I have read Tolstoy. He is a curious mixture of simplicity and philosophy. He seems to have been carried away by his conception of religion. He is a non-resistant to such a degree that he asserts that he would not, if attacked, use violence to preserve his own life or the life of a child. Upon this question he is undoubtedly insane.

So he is trying to live the life of a peasant and doing without the comforts of life! This is not progress. Civilization should not endeavor to bring about equality by making the rich poor or the comfortable miserable. This will not add to the pleasures of the rich, neither will it feed the hungry, not clothe the naked.

The civilized wealthy should endeavor to help the needy, and help them in a sensible way, not through charity, but through industry; through giving them opportunities to take care of themselves. I do not believe in the equality that is to be reached by pulling the successful down, but I do believe in civilization that tends to raise the fallen and assists those in need.

Should we all follow Tolstoy's example and live according to his philosophy the world would go back to barbarism; art would be lost; that which elevates and refines would be destroyed; the voice of music would become silent, and man would be satisfied with a rag, a hut, a crust. We do not want the equality of savages.

No, in civilization there must be differences, because there is a constant movement forward. The human race cannot advance in line. There will be pioneers, there will be the great army, and there will be countless stragglers. It is not necessary for the whole army to go back to the stragglers, it is better that the army should march forward toward the pioneers.

It may be that the sale of Tolstoy's works is on the increase in America, but certainly the principles of Tolstoy are gaining no foothold here. We are not a nation of non-resistants. We believe in defending our homes. Nothing can exceed the insanity of non- resistance. This doctrine leaves virtue naked and clothes vice in armor; it gives every weapon to the wrong and takes every shield from the right. I believe that goodness has the right of self- defence. As a matter of fact, vice should be left naked and virtue should have all the weapons. The good should not be a flock of sheep at the mercy of every wolf. So, I do not accept Tolstoy's theory of equality as a sensible solution of the labor problem.

The hope of this world is that men will become civilized to that degree that they cannot be happy while they know that thousands of their fellow-men are miserable.

The time will come when the man who dwells in a palace will not be happy if Want sits upon the steps at his door. No matter how well he is clothed himself he will not enjoy his robes if he sees others in rags, and the time will come when the intellect of this world will be directed by the heart of this world, and when men of genius and power will do what they can for the benefit of their fellow- men. All this is to come through civilization, through experience.

Men, after a time, will find the worthlessness of great wealth; they will find it is not splendid to excite envy in others. So, too, they will find that the happiness of the human race is so interdependent and so interwoven, that finally the interest of humanity will be the interest of the individual.

I know that at present the lives of many millions are practically without value, but in my judgment, the world is growing a little better every day. On the average, men have more comforts, better clothes, better food, more books and more of the luxuries of life than ever before.

_Question_. It is said that properly to appreciate Rousseau, Voltaire, Hugo and other French classics, a thorough knowledge of the French language is necessary. What is your opinion?

_Answer_. No; to say that a knowledge of French is necessary in order to appreciate Voltaire or Hugo is nonsensical. For a student anxious to study the works of these masters, to set to work to learn the language of the writers would be like my building a flight of stairs to go down to supper. The stairs are already there. Some other person built them for me and others who choose to use them.

Men have spent their lives in the study of the French and English, and have given us Voltaire, Hugo and all other works of French classics, perfect in sentiment and construction as the originals are. Macaulay was a great linguist, but he wrote no better than Shakespeare, and Burns wrote perfect English, though virtually uneducated. Good writing is a matter of genius and heart; reading is application and judgment.

I am of the opinion that Wilbur's English translation of "Les Miserables" is better than Hugo's original, as a literary masterpiece.

What a grand novel it is! What characters, Jean Valjean and Javert!

_Question_. Which in your opinion is the greatest English novel?

_Answer_. I think the greatest novel ever written in English is "A Tale of Two Cities," by Dickens. It is full of philosophy; its incidents are dramatically grouped. Sidney Carton, the hero, is a marvelous creation and a marvelous character. Lucie Manette is as delicate as the perfume of wild violets, and cell 105, North Tower, and scenes enacted there, almost touch the region occupied by "Lear." There, too, Mme. Defarge is the impersonation of the French Revolution, and the nobleman of the chateau with his fine features changed to stone, and the messenger at Tellson's Bank gnawing the rust from his nails; all there are the creations of genius, and these children of fiction will live as long as Imagination spreads her many-colored wings in the mind of man.

_Question_. What do you think of Pope?

_Answer_. Pope! Alexander Pope, the word-carpenter, a mechanical poet, or stay--rather a "digital poet;" that fits him best--one of those fellows who counts his fingers to see that his verse is in perfect rhythm. His "Essay on Man" strikes me as being particularly defective. For instance:

"All discord, harmony not understood, All partial evil, universal good,"

from the first epistle of his "Essay on Man." Anything that is evil cannot by any means be good, and anything partial cannot be universal.

We see in libraries ponderous tomes labeled "Burke's Speeches." No person ever seems to read them, but he is now regarded as being in his day a great speaker, because now no one has pluck enough to read his speeches. Why, for thirty years Burke was known in Parliament as the "Dinner Bell"--whenever he rose to speak, everybody went to dinner.

--_The Evening Express_, Buffalo, New York, October 6, 1892.

WOMAN IN POLITICS.

_Question_. What do you think of the influence of women in politics?

_Answer_. I think the influence of women is always good in politics, as in everything else. I think it the duty of every woman to ascertain what she can in regard to her country, including its history, laws and customs. Woman above all others is a teacher. She, above all others, determines the character of children; that is to say, of men and women.

There is not the slightest danger of women becoming too intellectual or knowing too much. Neither is there any danger of men knowing too much. At least, I know of no men who are in immediate peril from that source. I am a firm believer in the equal rights of human beings, and no matter what I think as to what woman should or should not do, she has the same right to decide for herself that I have to decide for myself. If women wish to vote, if they wish to take part in political matters, if they wish to run for office, I shall do nothing to interfere with their rights. I most cheerfully admit that my political rights are only equal to theirs.

There was a time when physical force or brute strength gave pre- eminence. The savage chief occupied his position by virtue of his muscle, of his courage, on account of the facility with which he wielded a club. As long as nations depend simply upon brute force, the man, in time of war, is, of necessity, of more importance to the nation than woman, and as the dispute is to be settled by strength, by force, those who have the strength and force naturally settle it. As the world becomes civilized, intelligence slowly takes the place of force, conscience restrains muscle, reason enters the arena, and the gladiator retires.

A little while ago the literature of the world was produced by men, and men were not only the writers, but the readers. At that time the novels were coarse and vulgar. Now the readers of fiction are women, and they demand that which they can read, and the result is that women have become great writers. The women have changed our literature, and the change has been good.

In every field where woman has become a competitor of man she has either become, or given evidence that she is to become, his equal. My own opinion is that woman is naturally the equal of man and that in time, that is to say, when she has had the opportunity and the training, she will produce in the world of art as great pictures, as great statues, and in the world of literature as great books, dramas and poems as man has produced or will produce.

There is nothing very hard to understand in the politics of a country. The general principles are for the most part simple. It is only in the application that the complexity arises, and woman, I think, by nature, is as well fitted to understand these things as man. In short, I have no prejudice on this subject. At first, women will be more conservative than men; and this is natural. Women have, through many generations, acquired the habit of submission, of acquiescence. They have practiced what may be called the slave virtues--obedience, humility--so that some time will be required for them to become accustomed to the new order of things, to the exercise of greater freedom, acting in accordance with perceived obligation, independently of authority.

So I say equal rights, equal education, equal advantages. I hope that woman will not continue to be the serf of superstition; that she will not be the support of the church and priest; that she will not stand for the conservation of superstition, but that in the east of her mind the sun of progress will rise.

_Question_. In your lecture on Voltaire you made a remark about the government of ministers, and you stated that if the ministers of the city of New York had to power to make the laws most people would prefer to live in a well regulated penitentiary. What do you mean by this?

_Answer_. Well, as a rule, ministers are quite severe. They have little patience with human failures. They are taught, and they believe and they teach, that man is absolutely master of his own fate. Besides, they are believers in the inspiration of the Scriptures, and the laws of the Old Testament are exceedingly severe. Nearly every offence was punished by death. Every offence was regarded as treason against Jehovah.

In the Pentateuch there is no pity. If a man committed some offence justice was not satisfied with his punishment, but proceeded to destroy his wife and children. Jehovah seemed to think that crime was in the blood; that it was not sufficient to kill the criminal, but to prevent future crimes you should kill his wife and babes. The reading of the Old Testament is calculated to harden the heart, to drive the angel of pity from the breast, and to make man a religious savage. The clergy, as a rule, do not take a broad and liberal view of things. They judge every offence by what they consider would be the result if everybody committed the same offence. They do not understand that even vice creates obstructions for itself, and that there is something in the nature of crime the tendency of which is to defeat crime, and I might add in this place that the same seems to be true of excessive virtue. As a rule, the clergy clamor with great zeal for the execution of cruel laws.

Let me give an instance in point: In the time of George III., in England, there were two hundred and twenty-three offences punishable with death. From time to time this cruel code was changed by Act of Parliament, yet no bishop sitting in the House of Lords ever voted in favor of any one of these measures. The bishops always voted for death, for blood, against mercy and against the repeal of capital punishment. During all these years there were some twenty thousand or more of the established clergy, and yet, according to John Bright, no voice was ever raised in any English pulpit against the infamous criminal code.