Question. What have you to say in reply to the letter in to- day’s Times signed R. H. S.? ¶
Answer. I find that I am accused of “four flagrant wrongs,” and while I am not as yet suffering from the qualms of conscience, nor do I feel called upon to confess and be forgiven, yet I have something to say in self-defence. ¶
As to the first objection made by your correspondent, namely, that my doctrine deprives people of the hope that after this life is ended they will meet their fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers, long since passed away, in the land beyond the grave, and there enjoy their company forever, I have this to say: If Christianity is true we are not quite certain of meeting our relatives and friends where we can enjoy their company forever. If Christianity is true most of our friends will be in hell. The ones I love best and whose memory I cherish will certainly be among the lost. The trouble about Christianity is that it is infinitely selfish. Each man thinks that if he can save his own little, shriveled, microscopic soul, that is enough. No matter what becomes of the rest. Christianity has no consolation for a generous man. I do not wish to go to heaven if the ones who have given me joy are to be lost. I would much rather go with them. The only thing that makes life endurable in this world is human love, and yet, according to Christianity, that is the very thing we are not to have in the other world. We are to be so taken up with Jesus and the angels, that we shall care nothing about our brothers and sisters that have been damned. We shall be so carried away with the music of the harp that we shall not even hear the wail of father or mother. Such a religion is a disgrace to human nature. ¶
As to the second objection,—that society cannot be held together in peace and good order without hell and a belief in eternal torment, I would ask why an infinitely wise and good God should make people of so poor and mean a character that society cannot be held together without scaring them. Is it possible that God has so made the world that the threat of eternal punishment is necessary for the preservation of society? ¶
The writer of the letter also says that it is necessary to believe that if a man commits murder here he is destined to be punished in hell for the offence. This is Christianity. Yet nearly every murderer goes directly from the gallows to God. Nearly every murderer takes it upon himself to lecture the assembled multitude who have gathered to see him hanged, and invite them to meet him in heaven. When the rope is about his neck he feels the wings growing. That is the trouble with the Christian doctrine. Every murderer is told he may repent and go to heaven, and have the happiness of seeing his victim in hell. Should heaven at any time become dull, the vein of pleasure can be re-thrilled by the sight of his victim wriggling on the gridiron of God’s justice. Really, Christianity leads men to sin on credit. It sells rascality on time and tells all the devils they can have the benefit of the gospel bankrupt act. ¶
The next point in the letter is that I do not preach for the benefit of mankind, but for the money which is the price of blood. Of course it makes no difference whether I preach for money or not. That is to say, it makes no difference to the preached. The arguments I advance are either good or bad. If they are bad they can easily be answered by argument. If they are not they cannot be answered by personalities or by ascribing to me selfish motives. It is not a personal matter. It is a matter of logic, of sense— not a matter of slander, vituperation or hatred. The writer of the letter, R. H. S., may be an exceedingly good person, yet that will add no weight to his or her argument. He or she may be a very bad person, but that would not weaken the logic of the letter, if it had any logic to begin with. It is not for me to say what my motives are in what I do or say; it must be left to the judgment of mankind. I presume I am about as bad as most folks, and as good as some, but my goodness or badness has nothing to do with the question. I may have committed every crime in the world, yet that does not make the story of the flood reasonable, nor does it even tend to show that the three gentlemen in the furnace were not scorched. I may be the best man in the world, yet that does not go to prove that Jonah was swallowed by the whale. Let me say right here that if there is another world I believe that every soul who finds the way to that shore will have an everlasting opportunity to do right—of reforming. My objection to Christianity is that it is infinitely cruel, infinitely selfish, and I might add infinitely absurd. I deprive no one of any hope unless you call the expectation of eternal pain a hope. ¶
Question. Have you read the Rev. Father Lambert’s “Notes on Ingersoll,” and if so, what have you to say of them or in reply to them? ¶
Answer. I have read a few pages or paragraphs of that pamphlet, and do not feel called upon to say anything. Mr. Lambert has the same right to publish his ideas that I have, and the readers must judge. People who believe his way will probably think that he has succeeded in answering me. After all, he must leave the public to decide. I have no anxiety about the decision. Day by day the people are advancing, and in a little while the sacred superstitions of to-day will be cast aside with the foolish myths and fables of the pagan world. ¶
As a matter of fact there can be no argument in favor of the supernatural. Suppose you should ask if I had read the work of that gentleman who says that twice two are five. I should answer you that no gentleman can prove that twice two are five; and yet this is exactly as easy as to prove the existence of the supernatural. There are no arguments in favor of the supernatural. There are theories and fears and mistakes and prejudices and guesses, but no arguments—plenty of faith, but no facts; plenty of divine revelation, but no demonstration. The supernatural, in my judgment, is a mistake. I believe in the natural. ¶
—The Times, Buffalo, New York, May 19, 1884. ¶
BLASPHEMY.* ¶
[* “If Robert G. Ingersoll indulges in blasphemy to-night in his lecture, as he has in other places and in this city before, he will be arrested before he leaves the city.” So spoke Rev. Irwin H. Torrence, General Secretary of the Pennsylvania Bible Society, yesterday afternoon to a Press reporter. "We have consulted counsel; the law is with us, and Ingersoll has but to do what he has done before, to find himself in a cell. Here is the act of March 31, 1860: ¶
“‘If any person shall willfully, premeditatedly and despitefully blaspheme or speak loosely and profanely of Almighty God, Christ Jesus, the Holy Spirit, or the Scriptures of Truth, such person, on conviction thereof, shall be sentenced to pay a fine not exceeding one hundred dollars, and undergo an imprisonment not exceeding three months, or either, at the discretion of the court.’” ¶
Last evening Colonel Ingersoll sat in the dining room at Guy’s Hotel, just in from New York City. When told of the plans of Mr. Torrence and his friends, he laughed and said:] ¶
I did not suppose that anybody was idiotic enough to want me arrested for blasphemy. It seems to me that an infinite Being can take care of himself without the aid of any agent of a Bible society. Perhaps it is wrong for me to be here while the Methodist Conference is in session. Of course no one who differs from the Methodist ministers should ever visit Philadelphia while they are here. I most humbly hope to be forgiven. ¶
Question. What do you think of the law of 1860? ¶
Answer. It is exceedingly foolish. Surely, there is no need for the Legislature of Pennsylvania to protect an infinite God, and why should the Bible be protected by law? The most ignorant priest can hold Darwin up to orthodox scorn. This talk of the Rev. Mr. Torrence shows that my lectures are needed; that religious people do not know what real liberty is. I presume that the law of 1860 is an old one re-enacted. It is a survival of ancient ignorance and bigotry, and no one in the Legislature thought it worth while to fight it. It is the same as the law against swearing, both are dead letters and amount to nothing. They are not enforced and should not be. Public opinion will regulate such matters. If all who take the name of God in vain were imprisoned there would not be room in the jails to hold the ministers. They speak of God in the most flippant and snap-your-fingers way that can be conceived of. They speak to him as though he were an intimate chum, and metaphorically slap him on the back in the most familiar way possible. ¶
Question. Have you ever had any similar experiences before? ¶
Answer. Oh, yes—threats have been made, but I never was arrested. When Mr. Torrence gets cool he will see that he has made a mistake. People in Philadelphia have been in the habit of calling the citizens of Boston bigots—but there is more real freedom of thought and expression in Boston than in almost any other city of the world. I think that as I am to suffer in hell forever, Mr. Torrence ought to be satisfied and let me have a good time here. He can amuse himself through all eternity by seeing me in hell, and that ought to be enough to satisfy, not only an agent, but the whole Bible society. I never expected any trouble in this State, and most sincerely hope that Mr. Torrence will not trouble me and make the city a laughing stock. ¶
Philadelphia has no time to waste in such foolish things. Let the Bible take its chances with other books. Let everybody feel that he has the right freely to express his opinions, provided he is decent and kind about it. Certainly the Christians now ought to treat Infidels as well as Penn did Indians. ¶
Nothing could be more perfectly idiotic than in this day and generation to prosecute any man for giving his conclusions upon any religious subject. Mr. Torrence would have had Huxley and Haeckel and Tyndall arrested; would have had Humboldt and John Stuart Mill and Harriet Martineau and George Eliot locked up in the city jail. Mr. Torrence is a fossil from the old red sandstone of a mistake. Let him rest. To hear these people talk you would suppose that God is some petty king, some Liliputian prince, who was about to be dethroned, and who was nearly wild for recruits. ¶
Question. But what would you do if they should make an attempt to arrest you? ¶
Answer. Nothing, except to defend myself in court. ¶
—Philadelphia Press, May 24, 1884. ¶