500 MB Nyheder Direkte fra Internet 6/500 MB nyheder direkte fra internet CD 6.iso/start/progs/text/biog-14.txt

Text File | 1993-01-28 | 53KB | 1,041 lines

                16 page printout, page 177 to 192
             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

                           CHAPTER 14.

                   WAS HE 'A MERE ICONOCLAST'?
                           (concluded)

       Did He Endeavor To Destroy the Hope of Immortality?

     In dealing with the specific charges of iconoclasm that have
been so insistently pressed by the theological indicters of
Ingersoll, there yet remain to be considered his views of at least
one other subject, -- the immortality of the soul. Holding as they
do so prominent and so essential a place in his life-work, --
running like threads of gold through the very warp and woof of his
philosophy, -- their presentation is not merely desirable: it
constitutes a task which no conscientious reviewer could avoid.

     It is asserted by Ingersoll's critics, that his monistic and
agnostic teachings, in general, and his rejection of supernatural
purpose and design and the bodily resurrection and ascension of
Christ, in particular, utterly destroy the hope of immortality,
leaving mankind without the shadow of a consolation that the
unspeakable wrongs of this life will be righted in another.

     Now, clearly to understand Ingersoll's views concerning the
immortality of the soul, that is, concerning the mind after the
death of the body, it is first absolutely necessary to understand
his views concerning the mind before the death of the body. What
were they?

     Reiterating so much only of his philosophy as is essential to
a comprehensive presentation of the views in question, and avoiding
the "double words" of the metaphysician and the psychologist, I may
state that Ingersoll believed in what is called the natural; that
the universe is the uncreated and indestructible, the infinite and
eternal, all. Without pretending either to define or to distinguish
them, he believed that this all consists of what are called
substance and force. He did not believe that there is any power,
force, or essence behind the universe, because, even to think of
such power, force, or essence, he would have been necessitated to
think of some form or phase of substance or force, that is, of some
part or phase of the universe. In other words, he would have been
necessitated to think of something as existing behind itself. This
being impossible, the supernatural was excluded from his belief.
Incapable of conceiving of anything but the natural, he believed
that every phenomenon is a natural phenomenon. Though the original
development of organic life from inorganic substance and force was
to him an insoluble problem, he believed that, from the monera or
some even more simple protoplasmic mass, through countless ages,
had evolved by a series of purely natural, interrelated chemical,
physical, and psychological processes. He held that by no
conceivable possibility could the human organism have become
different from what it is. Confident that there was no more
trustworthy informant concerning that organism, he accepted the
conclusions of the representative biological and anthropological
scientists of his day. He believed, for example, that, without what
are termed the voluntary muscles, it would be absolutely impossible
for an individual voluntarily to exert force; that, were it not for


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               177

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

the heart and the rest of the circulatory mechanism, it would be
impossible either to supply with food the several tissues of the
body or to remove from them the various deleterious products of
waste; that, in the absence of certain nerve-tissues, there would
be no sensation. He was satisfied as to the inevitable and
invariable functional integrity of these structures. He believed,
that, between the highly specialized and widely differentiated
tissues or organs just mentioned, there is no vicarious action;
that voluntary motion is invariably effected through the muscles;
circulation, through the heart; sensation, through the nerves. He
was convinced that the quality and the degree of functional
activity in the organs concerned depend absolutely and inevitably
upon their own physiological condition, plus the conditions of
their environment. In short, he believed that the organs of motion,
circulation, and sensation naturally developed, under natural
conditions, and are natural organs, acting in a natural way.

     Did he believe to the contrary concerning any other organ --
concerning the brain? In my judgment, there is no better way of
initiating a reply to this question than by asking another -- than
by asking simply this: Could he?

     To him, the brain was either natural or supernatural: it could
not be both. It was either a purely natural organ, manifesting the
purely natural phenomena called mind, or it was a purely
supernatural organ, manifesting the purely supernatural phenomena
called mind. Which of these would he declare it to be? Holding, as
already indicated, that every other organ is purely natural, could
he declare that the brain, chemically the most complex, and
anatomically and physiologically the most wonderful, of all, is
purely supernatural, manifesting purely supernatural phenomena?

     He knew that the source and origin of thought had been removed
by modern science from the maze of metaphysics to the domain of the
physical, the natural. He knew, that, superseding the theories of
such dualistic thinkers as Plato and Descartes, according to the
last of whom the ego sat an inexorable autocrat on its throne in
the pineal gland, we have a physicochemical mechanism within whose
wondrous substance is an epitome of all the past and a hint of all
the future -- an organ constantly reacting to external stimuli,
like all other organs, and subject to the same immutable forces or
conditions -- an organ whose function is the production and
manifestation of thought. And he knew, that, were there no such
organ, there would be no thought, -- just as he knew, that, were
there no muscles, heart, nor nerves, there would be no motion,
circulation, nor sensation. He knew, that, if this were not the
case, -- if that marvelous organ called the brain were merely a
sort of play-ground for some "absolute" immaterial essence, --
mental vigor would not increase directly (pari passu) with
physiological vigor, as revealed by the scalpel and the microscope,
nor wane like a fading flower with the progress of disease. He saw,
that, if the brain be not the real and only source of mental
phenomena, there is no reason why, when a part or all of its
essential cells and fibers are destroyed by accident, experiment,
disease, or age, the individual concerned should not continue to
think with as much facility as he did before, -- to think with some
other organ, -- with the spleen, for example.


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               178

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

     Of course, Ingersoll was well aware that so-called scientists
had produced many volumes to show, that, although a certain more or
less definite connection between the mind and the brain must be
admitted, there is no absolutely necessary and inevitable relation
between the physicochemical constitution of that organ and either
the quality or the quantity of the phenomena it manifests. He was
perfectly familiar with such arguments, all of which amount to no
more than this, namely, that the relation between brain and mind
is, at best, only a parallel relation, that is, the relation
between the natural and the supernatural! So the assertions of the
dualist made upon him no impression, save that they were, for the
most part, untrue: --

     "Thought is a form of force. We walk with the same force with
which we think. Man is an organism, that changes several forms of
force into thought-force. Man is a machine into which we put what
we call food, and produce what we call thought. Think of that
wonderful chemistry by which bread was changed into the divine
tragedy of Hamlet!"

     It must not be inferred, however, that Ingersoll regarded mind
and consciousness as solved problems; -- that he was chargeable
with the crudity usually attributed to materialistic psychology.
For he was not a pure materialist. Nor was he a pure "energist":
rather was he what I venture to term an agnostic monist. He said:

     "I believe there is such a thing as matter. I believe there is
a something called force. The difference between force and matter
I do not know. So there is a something called consciousness.
Whether we call consciousness an entity or not makes no difference
as to what it really is. There is something that hears, sees and
feels, a something that takes cognizance of what happens in what we
call the outward world. No matter whether we call this something
matter or spirit, it is something that we do not know, to say least
of it, all about. We cannot understand what matter is. It defies
us, and defies definitions. So, with what we call spirit, we are in
utter ignorance of what it is. We have some little conception of
what we mean by it, and of what others mean, but as to what it
really is no one knows. It makes no difference whether we call
ourselves Materialists or Spiritualists, we believe in all there
is, no matter what you call it. If we call it all matter, then we
believe that matter can think and hope and dream. If we call it all
spirit, then we believe that spirit has force, that it offers a
resistance; in other words, that it is in one of its aspects, what
we call matter. I cannot believe that everything can be accounted
for by motion or by what we call force, because there is something
that recognizes force. There is something that compares, that
thinks, that remembers; there is something that suffers and enjoys;
there is something that each one calls himself or herself, that is
inexplicable to himself or herself, and it makes no difference
whether we call this something mind or soul, effect or entity, it
still eludes us, and all the world we have coined for the purpose
of expressing our knowledge of this something, after all, expresses
only our desire to know, and our efforts to ascertain."

     Believing, then, that mind, in some unknown way, is, like
physiological motion, circulation, and sensation, a function or
manifestation of the organ with which it is related, could

                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               179

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

Ingersoll logically accept the popular view, that it shares at
death a different fate than they? Since to reply in the negative
would be entirely gratuitous, let us pass, at once, to the
paramount question, Did he deny that it shares a different fate?
And let us have the answer in the Great Agnostic's own words: --

     "I have said a thousand times, and say again, that we do not
know, we cannot say, whether death is a wall or a door -- the
beginning, or the end, of a day -- the spreading of pinions to
soar, or the folding forever of wings -- the rise or set of a sin,
or an endless life, that brings rapture and love to every one."

     In a letter to Mr. David S. Geer, president of the Oakland
Literary Club, Chicago, the same conviction is reiterated, and its
foundation concisely stated. Mr. Geer had addressed to Dr. E. B.
Foote, Sr., of New York, a birthday greeting that contained, among
other things, a positive assurance of immortality: --

                                "117 East Twenty-first Street,
                                 "Gramercy Park, April 24, '99

"My Dear Mr. Geer:

     "What you said to Dr. Foote is beautiful and for all I know it
may be all true. Still, I have no evidence that human beings are
immortal. Neither have I any evidence that 'there is any wise and
beneficent power back of all creation.' In fact, I have no evidence
of creation. I believe that all matter and all force have existed
from, and will exist, to eternity. There is to me no evidence of
the existence of any power superior to Nature. In my opinion the
supernatural does not exist. Still, we can wish in spite of, or
against, evidence, and we can hope without it.

                                        "Yours always,

                                          "R.G. Ingersoll."

     And elsewhere: --

     "* * * it is no more wonderful that we should live again than
that we do live. Sometimes I have thought it not quite so wonderful
for the reason that we have a start. But upon that subject I have
not the slightest information. Whether man lives again or not I
cannot pretend to say. * * *

     "My opinion of immortality is this:

     "First. -- I live, and that of itself is infinitely wonderful.
Second. -- There was a time when I was not, and after I was not, I
was. Third. -- Now that I am, I may be again; and it is no more
wonderful that I may be again, if I have been, than that I am,
having once been nothing."

     "It is natural to shun death, natural to desire eternal life.
With all my heart I hope for everlasting life and joy * * * ."




                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               180

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

     As indicated in the beginning of this chapter. it has often
been asserted by his critics, that the destruction of the Bible and
the Christian religion, through the universal acceptance of
Ingersoll's teachings, would blot out of the human heart the hope
of immorality. Passing over the fact that, as has just been shown,
Ingersoll, far from denying the possibility of a future life,
himself ardently hoped for it, it must be noted that the assertion
in question (doubtless unwittingly, but nevertheless unavoidably)
implies, that, had it not been for that book and that religion,
there would now be no such hope. Ingersoll, as would be expected,
clearly perceived this unfortunate corollary of his adversaries;
and we accordingly find him dwelling with insistence upon the fact
that the hope of immortality existed, not only thousands of years
before Christ is supposed to have been born, but thousands of years
before the time of Moses; that, for many thousands of years, the
very cross itself has been a symbol of the life to come; that it
has been found carved in stone above the graves of a people who
lived and loved and hoped and dreamed beneath the same "sunny
skies" long before either the Romans or the Etruscans -- carved in
the walls of the ruined temples of Central America -- carved upon
Babylonian cylinders. He further declares, with undoubted
consternation to many, that, although the doctrine of a future life
was taught in Egypt, India, and China thousands of years before
either Christ or Moses is supposed to have been born, and is still
taught there, it is not taught in the Old Testament. He insists
that, as a matter of fact, while the Old Testament tells us how man
lost immortality through Jehovah's preventing Adam from eating of
the tree of life, there came from the top of Sinai no hope of a
hereafter; that no one in the Old Testament "stands by the dead and
says, 'We shall meet again.' "And, finally, he declares that,
notwithstanding the "one little passage in Job which commentators
have endeavored to twist into a hope of immortality," the Old
Testament does not contain, "from the first mistake in Genesis to
the last curse in Malachi," a burial service, nor even a single
word about another world. Indeed, he goes even further when he
asserts, that, "if we take the Old Testament for authority, man is
not immortal."

     To present just here, in what might seem to be natural and
logical sequence, Ingersoll's views as to whether the doctrine of
immortality is taught in the New Testament, and if so, the kind of
immortality there contemplated, would be premature, if not
altogether irrelevant. The fact, as pointed out by him, that the
hope of another life, although not recorded in the Old Testament,
was held among many nations of antiquity, thousands of years before
either Christ or Moses is supposed to have been born, and is now
held in heathen and other non-Christian countries, is a sufficient
refutation of the assertion, that, since in the absence of the
Bible and of Christianity there would have been, and would be, no
such hope, universal unbelief in them as divine institutions, in
accordance with his teachings, would destroy it. And this
refutation is at the same time a demonstration, -- a demonstration
of the fact, that, contrary to the apparent understanding of his
Christian critics, the hope of immortality is something with which
neither the Bible nor Christianity necessarily has anything
whatever to do. That hope is not dependent upon either. As a matter
of fact, the relation is precisely the other way. Take from the New


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               181

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

Testament and Christianity their teachings of immortality, and the
Bible and Christianity would perish; but destroy every copy of the
Bible, and erase from the tablet of memory the last trace of
Christian thought, and the hope of immortality would still 'spring
eternal in the human breast.' And what is true of the Bible and
Christianity in this regard is true of every other so-called sacred
book and supernatural religion.

     The weakness -- the falsity -- of the criticisms of
Ingersoll's views of immortality lies in their failure to
distinguish between terms. His critics confound hope with belief,
and regard belief as equivalent to realization, or as a force
capable of bringing about realization. It is therefore natural that
they should place the utmost importance in belief, which, by a
strangely erroneous consistency, they consider to be a mere puppet
of caprice, -- a result of the so called will. They seem to think
that even feigned belief is better than none; and so, ignoring the
natural operations of the mind, they say to the rationalist: "The
doctrines of Ingersoll may be good enough to live by, but they are
poor doctrines to die by. Whatever your doubts, if you desire
immortality you would better believe and be 'on the safe side.' "As
though a chemist should say to a navigator who occupied an agnostic
attitude toward the theories of chemistry: "If on your next voyage
you wish the hydrogen and the oxygen which form the sea-water to
remain united as such, not to spurn each other, and, returning to
dissociate gases, allow your ship to fall to the ground, you would
better believe in chemical affinity."

     To such reasoning, -- to the sophistical theological assertion
that belief can change the fact, -- the Great Agnostic, never
doubting the uniformity of nature, replied: --

     "If we are immortal it is a fact in nature, and we are not
indebted to priests for it, nor to bibles for it, and it cannot be
destroyed by unbelief."

     And again: --

     "Is man Immortal?

     "I do not know.

     "One thing I do know, and that is, that neither hope, nor
fear, belief, nor denial, can change the fact. It is as it is, and
it will be as it must be."

     A question of profound interest here presents itself. As
indicated in the preceding pages, it was apparent to Ingersoll,
although he was far from either affirming or denying, that mind,
like every other organic function, ceases at the death of the organ
in which it is manifest. He was not aware that any mind had
survived the death of the brain. Of one fact he was aware, however
-- that in the idea of immortality there is something fundamentally
human -- that, in every age, it had been almost universal to
mankind. How did he account for this? Did he conceive it to be a
gift from the supernatural? I have shown that he held it to be
impossible even to think of the supernatural. Did he believe that


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               182

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

the idea was an a priori one, as Kant believed some ideas to be? To
hold that an idea is a priori is merely one way of saying that it
is supernatural. Besides, Ingersoll specifically declared that all
of man's ideas are a posteriori; that they were born of experience
here in this world. How, then, did he account for the idea of
another life?

     Like all other individuals of genius, Ingersoll possessed a
profound knowledge of human nature. With him, despite his stern and
sometimes implacable logic, two factors entered into all mental
operations, -- heart and brain. He declared that whoever came to a
conclusion without consulting his heart would make a mistake. And
it was because he followed his own advice -- it was because "his
brain took counsel of his heart" -- that his conclusions were
almost never wrong. He knew that those who have suffered most have
thought most; that those who have lain in the lowest dungeons of
despair and gloom have soared to the loftiest, sunniest, most
ecstatic heights. In endeavoring, therefore, to account for that
loftiest of ideas, he consulted not only reason but feeling.
Finding that the brain could give no satisfactory explanation, he
looked in the heart; and he found that human affection, the
foundation of nearly everything else of value, is no less the
foundation here. He said: --

     "The idea of immortality, that like a sea ebbed and flowed in
the human heart, with its countless waves of hope and fear beating
against the shores and rocks of time and fate, was not born of any
book, nor of any creed, nor of any religion. It was born of human
affection, and it will continue to ebb and flow beneath the mists
and clouds of doubt and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of
death. It is the rainbow -- Hope, shinning upon the tears of
grief."

     Were it possible to doubt that this exquisite paragraph
contains the very kernel of the Great Agnostic's convictions on the
subject concerned; were it possible to doubt that it came
ingenuously, spontaneously, from his heart and brain together, --
not from his brain alone, as an artful attack upon theology, -- our
questioning would be instantly silenced by the last clause of the
following passage, which was delivered many years later at the bier
of a brother (as indicated in Chapter 5), and which, I may remark
in passing, has been frequently misrepresented and misunderstood.
I have italicized the particular clause: --

     "Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of
two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We
cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From
the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but
in the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear
the rustle of a wing."

     Thus did Ingersoll find in human love, wrung by vain and
impotent anguish, the secret of man's dearest wish. Thus did he, in
a moment of grief, with a phrase as subtly delicate as the first
tints of a summer dawn, -- as gentle as hope itself, --
unconsciously silence the loud pretensions of theology. As Newton,
savant of the physical realm, divined in the falling apple the


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               183

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

secret of the universe, so Ingersoll, savant of the mental realm,
saw in the falling tear the radiant image of that hope of hopes.
"Love," said he, taking even a deeper view, "Love is a flower that
grows on the edge of the grave." Well might he have added, "and the
hope of immortality is its fragrance."

     But there is another side to this hope; and it was on that
side that Ingersoll uttered the most Ingersollian of his anti-
theological views. What is the side to which I refer?

     Without entering into credal differences, it may be stated, as
a general truth, that, according to the teachings of Christianity,
those who believe and practice certain things will, either at death
or subsequently, be awarded everlasting joy, and that those who do
not so believe and practice will, at the same time, be consigned to
everlasting misery.

     A logical analysis of this doctrine, especially if we accept
the other alleged fundamental truths of Christianity, reveals the
following absolutely unavoidable implications: (1) That an
omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient being created, -- called into
consciousness from the unconscious elements, -- billions of human
beings, knowing that they were destined to everlasting misery; (2)
that individuals will be held everlastingly responsible for their
beliefs; (3) that finite acts will be awarded infinite punishment;
(4) that the time will come when an infinitely wise, just, and
merciful God will cease to be even just, -- will refuse to allow
his children to repent and be righteous; and (5) that human beings
will be infinitely happy in heaven, knowing that those who loved
them, and whom they loved, on earth are in everlasting misery.

     It was against this phase of Christian immortality, and
against this phase alone, that Ingersoll, with every fiber of his
being, with every unit of his moral and intellectual force, waged
war. This doctrine of everlasting punishment for the many and
everlasting bliss for the few was the real center round which his
lifelong battle raged. It made him an implacable enemy of the
Christian religion. It was the one dogma that stirred the utmost
depths of his being. Its bottomless pit became a receptacle for the
gall and wormwood of his indignation. But for this dogma, many
hundreds of pages of Ingersoll's discussions and controversies
would never have been produced; a large part of the lectures which
were delivered to hundreds of thousands, and which were read by
hundreds of thousands more, would never have left his lips; and
Voltaire would have remained the most aggressive and formidable
enemy of Christianity whom the world had ever known.

     If we reflect that hatred of the idea of everlasting pain is
necessarily born of human sympathy and the sense of justice, and
that these exist from birth, if at all, as a part of the
individual's temperament (as does poetic feeling, for example, in
the temperament of the poet) we may not be surprised to learn that
Ingersoll's opposition to that idea began during boyhood; but we
shall be at least interested in learning under precisely what
circumstances it did begin -- doubly interested, I trust, because
we shall, at the same time, be afforded a glimpse of the evolution
of a great mind: --


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               184

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

     "I heard hundreds of * * * evangelical sermons -- heard
hundreds of the most fearful and vivid descriptions of the tortures
inflicted in hell, of the horrible state of the lost. I supposed
that what I heard was true, and yet I did not believe it. I said:
'It is,' and then I thought: 'It cannot be.'

     "Those sermons made but faint impressions on my mind. I was
not convinced. * * *

     "But I heard one sermon that touched my heart, that left its
mark, like a scar, on my brain. [Ingersoll was then about ten years
old.]

     "One Sunday I went with my brother to hear a Free Will Baptist
preacher. He was a large man, dressed like a farmer, but he was an
orator. He could paint a picture with words.

     'He took for his text the parable of 'the rich man and
Lazarus.' He described daves, the rich man -- his manner of life,
the excesses in which he indulged, his extravagance, his riotous
nights, his purple and fins linen, his feasts, his wines and his
beautiful women.

     "Then he described Lazarus, his poverty, his rags and
wretchedness, his poor body eaten by disease, the crusts and crumbs
he devoured, the dogs that pitied him. He pictured his lonely life,
his friendless death.

     "Then changing his tone of pity to one of triumph -- leaping
from tears to the heights of exultation -- from defeat to victory
-- he described the glorious company of angels, who with white and
outspread wings carried the soul of the despised pauper to Paradise
-- to the bosom of Abraham.

     "Then, changing his voice to one of scorn and loathing, he
told of the rich man's death. He was in his palace, on his costly
couch, the air heavy with perfume, the room filled with servants
and physicians. His gold was worthless then. He could not buy
another breath. He died, and in hell he lifted up his eyes, being
in torment.

     "Then, assuming a dramatic attitude, putting his right hand to
his ear, he whispered, 'Hark! I hear the rich man's voice. What
does he say? Hark! '"Father Abraham! Father Abraham! Father
Abraham! I pray thee send lazarus that he may dip the tip of his
finger in water and cool my parched tongue, for I am tormented in
this flame."

     "'Oh, my hearers, he has been making that request for more
than eighteen hundred years. And millions of ages hence that wail
will cross the gulf that lies between the saved and lost and still
will be heard the cry: "Father Abraham! Father Abraham! I pray thee
send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and
cool my parched tongue, for I am tormented in this flame."'

     "For the first time I understood the dogma of eternal pain --
appreciated 'the glad tidings of great joy.' For the first time my


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               185

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

imagination grasped the height and depth of the Christian horror.
Then I said: 'It is a lie, and I hate your religion. If it is true,
I hate your God.'

     "From that day I have had no fear, no doubt. For me, on that
day, the flames of hell were quenched. From that day I have
passionately hated every orthodox creed. That Sermon did some
good."

     Fortunate hour, indeed, when infinite injustice sows the seeds
from which it is to reap annihilation! Wondrous circumstance, when
blind ignorance and heartlessness so touch the brain and heart of
a child as to bring forth a flood of light and tears to dissipate
the gloom and quench the fires of hell!

     Not to the day of his death did the impression which Robert
Ingersoll received on that Sunday ever leave him. Instead, it grew
deeper. It was a poisoned wound which, never healing, became more
and more sensitive to the environment of its possessor. As proof of
this, we find, that, while in his earliest lectures he freely
expressed his hatred of the dogma of everlasting punishment, it was
not until the high noon of his anti-theological career that he
publicly vowed never to deliver a lecture without attacking it, and
that it was not until the very ending of that career that he
declared that as long as he had life, as long as he drew breath, he
should hate with every drop of his blood, and would deny with all
his strength, that "infinite lie." Pursuant to this determination,
it is in his latest discourses that he dwells most insistently upon
the dogma of eternal pain, obviously not because earlier in his
career he had neglected to bestow upon it what the orthodox
regarded as adequate attention, nor yet because he entertained the
least fear of its gaining ground, but because it was his profound
conviction, that, just as long as a thing so terrible found
lodgment in a human brain, it was his duty to oppose it to the
utmost extent of his power.

     Those who cherish as sacred the memory of his friendship, --
who have basked in the illimitable sunshine of his nature, and felt
the genial warmth of his heart, -- and even those who only know him
through the cold medium of lead and ink, will be reluctant to
believe that Robert Ingersoll was capable of hate. And, indeed, if
we apply the latter word solely to the individual, we shall be
obliged to yield to their reluctance. That he was capable of hating
institutions and ideas, however, no one, we think, will deny; and
if there was any idea that he did hate, -- if, in the boundless
realm of thought, there was any idea that had dropped the plummet
into the depths of his detestation, -- it was the idea of
everlasting punishment.

     He declared it to be the one idea the infamy of which no mind
could conceive, no language express. refusing even to allow that it
was an original conception of the human brain, he declared that it
was born of infuriated revenge in the lowest of the animal world.
It was a certificate that our remote progenitors were the vilest of
beasts. Only from the leering eyes of enraged hyenas and jackals --
from the glittering eyes and throbbing fangs of arboreal serpents
awaiting in pendent coils their unsuspecting prey -- could such a


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               186

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

thought have sprung; and only through the slanting foreheads and
the cacophonous jargon of unclean baboons could it have reached the
age of man. The doctrine of everlasting punishment had blighted the
flower of pity in countless hearts, and put out the light of reason
in countless brains. It had mocked at hope, and, in the place of
honest doubt, it had thrust upon mankind the loaded dice of
predestination and free will. It had made of the grave a
bottomless, shoreless sea of flame, and for cradles it had put
rockers on coffins. It had shrieked in the ears of maternity: "Your
child will be the fuel of eternal fire!" Over the sweet countenance
of Mercy, it had spread the scowl of Typhon, and in her hand it had
placed the cross-hilted sword of persecution. It had invented the
auto de fe, the thumbscrew, and the rack. It had built dungeons,
forged chains, driven all the stakes -- cut, carried, and lighted
the fagots. It had robbed the peasant, robed the hypocrite, crowned
and sceptered the tyrant, and stained the fair face of Europe with
ashes, blood, and tears. It had driven Justice from her throne of
"eternal calm," and put behind the universe an infinite fiend.

     The doctrine that an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient being
called into consciousness from the unconscious elements billions of
human beings, knowing that they were destined to everlasting
misery, was to Ingersoll the infamy of infamies, the one
"unpardonable sin" against mankind. To the assertion that God has
the right to damn us, because he made us, Ingersoll replied: "That
is just the reason that he has not a right to damn us." Above,
below, nor beyond this reply, reason and justice cannot go. It
would not do to say that God made man "a free moral agent," -- gave
him a "free will." An all-knowing God gave man a free will, not
knowing how he would use it!

     That phase of the doctrine which asserts that individuals will
be held responsible for their beliefs -- that one will be
everlastingly punished for failing to believe a thing to be true,
when his reason, having heard the testimony both for and against,
tells him it is false, and that another will be rewarded with
everlasting bliss for believing the same thing to be true, when his
reason, having likewise heard the testimony both for and against,
tells him it is true -- received, as we should expect, the full
measure of Ingersoll' denunciation: --

     "This frightful declaration, 'He that believeth and is
baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be
damned,' has filled the world with agony and crime."

     That he regarded it as scarcely more pernicious than absurd
and unpsychological, however, is evident from the following: --

     "The truth is, that no one can justly be held responsible for
his thoughts. The brain thinks without asking our consent. We
believe, or we disbelieve, without an effort of the will. Belief is
a result. It is the effect of evidence upon the mind. The scales
turn in spite of him who watches. There is no opportunity of being
honest or dishonest in the formation of an opinion. The conclusion
is entirely independent of desire. We must believe, or we must
doubt, in spite of what we wish."



                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               187

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

     Still more objectionable was that feature of the "plan of
salvation" which arbitrarily attaches infinite consequences to
finite acts. Of course, no thinker of Ingersoll's subtlety and
profundity could fail to recognize, that, in the ethical realm, as
in the physical, all acts are related, if only remotely and
vaguely. Nevertheless, the idea that any act of this brief life --
this glint and shadow on the dial of eternity -- could merit
everlasting misery was to him "a proposition so monstrous" that he
was "astonished that it ever found lodgment in the brain of man."

     Equally "monstrous" was that feature of the "plan" which
implies that the fate of the soul is everlastingly fixed at death.
If, during this life, there is more rejoicing in heaven over one
soul that repents, than over ninety and nine not gone astray, why,
reasoned Ingersoll, should the chance of repentance be denied in
the next? Why should infinite goodness there stand between the
repentant soul and righteousness? How could infinite mercy have an
end? Why should the love that counts every falling sparrow and
numbers every hair turn to hate on the verge of the grave? Why
should the smile of infinite beneficence wrinkle to a frown on the
somber face of Death? --

     "Strange! that a world cursed by God, filled with temptation
and thick with fiends, should be the only place where hope exists,
the only place where man can repent, the only place where reform is
possible! Strange! that heaven, filled with angels and presided
over by God, is the only place where reformation is utterly
impossible! Yet these are the teachings of all the believers in the
eternity of punishment."

And again: --

     "All I insist is, if there is another life, the bassist soul
that finds its way to that dark or radiant shore will have the
everlasting chance of doing right. Nothing but the most cruel
ignorance, the most heartless superstition, the most ignorant
theology, ever imagined that the few days of human life spent here,
surrounded by mists and clouds of darkness, blown over life's sea
by storms and tempests of passion, fixed for all eternity the
condition of the human race. If this doctrine be true, this life is
but a net, in which Jehovah catches souls for hell."

     And even ignoring all of the points which we have shown to
have met with the Great Agnostic's opposition, there is one which
would alone have made him an aggressive opponent of the Christian
plan of salvation. It is the one which implies that human beings,
-- beings of perfect goodness, -- will be perfectly happy in
heaven, knowing that those who loved them, and whom they loved, on
earth are in everlasting misery. For if, to him, there was anything
intrinsic, -- anything that should endure and bind after all else
had evanesced, -- it was the golden chord of human affection.
"Heaven," he said, "is where those are we love, and those who love
us. And I wish to go to no world unless I can be accompanied by
those who love me here." He declared, that, although, according to
one of the alleged fundamental truths of Christianity, eternal
happiness was rendered possible by infinite love, there would,
under the Christian doctrine of immortality, be no love in heaven.
For, did not that doctrine compel the father to say: "I can be

                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               188

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

happy with my daughter in hell"? Did it not compel the son to say;"
I can be happy in heaven when my mother, -- the woman who would
have died for me, -- is in everlasting pain"? Did it not compel the
believing mother to say: "I can be supremely happy knowing that my
generous and brave but unbelieving boy is in hell"? To those who
would evade this extremity by assuming that the elect would be
oblivious of the fate of the lost, he replied: "Another life is
nought, unless we know and love again the ones who love us here."

  Thus did the Great Agnostic again take counsel of his heart. As
he had already found in human affection the secret, the origin, of
the hope of hopes, so now did he find the magic essence that keeps
it bright and pure. Thus did he find that the fairest flower is
soil and light and dew unto itself, and that by its own fragrance
it stills the very thorns that threaten its existence, -- the vines
that venomous clamber to destroy. --

     "And suppose after all that death does not end all. Next to
eternal joy, next to being forever with those we love and those who
have loved us, next to that, is to be wrapped in the dreamless
sleep. Upon the eternal peace. Next to eternal life is eternal
sleep. Upon the shadowy shore of death the sea of trouble casts no
wave. Eyes that have been curtained by the everlasting dark, will
never know again the burning touch of tears. Lips touched by
eternal silence will never speak again the broken words of grief.
Hearts of dust do not break. The dead do not weep. Within the tomb
no veiled and weeping sorrow sits, and in the rayless gloom is
crouched no shuddering fear.

     "I had rather think of those I have loved, and lost, as having
returned to earth, as having become a part of the elemental wealth
of the world -- I would rather think of them as unconscious dust,
I would rather dream of them as gurgling in the streams, floating
in the clouds, bursting in the foam of light upon the shores of
worlds, I would rather think of them as the lost visions of a
forgotten night, than to have even the faintest fear that their
naked souls have been clutched by an orthodox god. I will leave my
dead where nature leaves them. Whatever flower of hope springs up
in my heart I will cherish, I will give it breath of sighs and rain
of tears. But I can not believe that there is any being in this
universe who has created a human soul for eternal pain. I would
rather that every god would destroy himself; I would rather that we
all should go to eternal chaos, to black and starless night, than
that just one soul should suffer eternal agony.

     "I have made up my mind that if there is a god, he will be
merciful to the merciful.

     "Upon that rock I stand. --

     "That he will not torture the forgiving. --

     "Upon that rock I stand. --

     "That every man should be true to himself, and that there is
no world, no star, in which honesty is a crime.



                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               189

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

     "Upon that rock I stand.

     "The honest man, the good woman, the happy child, have nothing
to fear, either in this world or in the world to come.

     "Upon that rock I stand."

     That this was, indeed, the "rock" upon which he stood, and
that it and such other of his conclusions as have been presented in
this chapter were founded in the depths of moral and intellectual
conviction, are made doubly evident by the private letter which I
introduce with the following explanation.

     In the summer of 1885, a lady of San Francisco lost, by sudden
and unexpected death, her only child, a son. Her grief, in itself
overwhelming, was greatly intensified by the terrors of the
Calvinistic creed in which she had been reared, and according to
which she well knew that there was, for her unconverted son, no
hope. Such was her anguish that her reason, if not her life, was
almost despaired of. Among those who vainly tried to console her
was Mrs. Sarah B. Cooper, a lady very prominent in Bible-class and
other church work. One would naturally suppose that Mrs. Cooper,
under the circumstances, would have appealed to some member of the
clergy; but instead, she turned straightway to Ingersoll, begging
that he endeavor, by written word, to relieve the bereaved mother
of her terrible apprehension. His letter was given to a reporter
for publication, on condition that the name of the recipient be
withheld: --

"My Dear Madam:

     "Mrs. Cooper has told me the sad story of your almost infinite
sorrow. I am not foolish enough to suppose that I can say or do
anything to lessen your great grief, your anguish for his loss; but
may be I can say something to drive from your poor heart the fiend
of fear -- fear for him.

     "If there is a God, let us believe that he is good; and if he
is good, the good have nothing to fear. I have been told that your
son was kind and generous; that he was filled with charity and
sympathy. Now, we know that in this world like begets like,
kindness produces kindness, and all good bears the fruit of joy.
Belief is nothing -- deeds are everything; and if your son was kind
he will naturally find kindness wherever he may be. You would not
inflict endless pain upon your worst enemy. Is God worse than you?
You could not bear to see a viper suffer forever. Is it possible
that God will doom a kind and generous boy to everlasting pain?
Nothing can be more monstrously absurd and cruel.

     "The truth is, that no human being knows anything of what is
beyond the grave. If nothing is known, then it is not honest for
anyone to pretend that he does know. If nothing is known, then we
can hope only for the good. If there be a God your boy is no more
in his power now than he was before his death -- no more than you
are at the present moment. Why should we fear God more after death
than before? Does the feeling of God toward his children change the
moment they die? While we are alive they say God loves us; when


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               190

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

will he cease to love us? True love never changes. I beg of you to
throw away all fear. Take counsel of your own heart. If God exists,
your heart is the best revelation of him, and your heart could
never send your boy to endless pain. After all, no one knows. The
ministers know nothing. And all the churches in the world know no
more on this subject than the ants on the ant-hills. Creeds are
good for nothing except to break the hearts of the loving.

     "Let us have courage. Under the seven-hued arch of hope let
the dead sleep. I do not pretend to know, but I do know that others
do not know. Listen to your heart, believe what it says, and wait
with patience and without fear for what the future has for all. If
we can get no comfort from what people know, let us avoid being
driven to despair by what they do not know.

     "I wish I could say something that would put a star in your
night of grief -- a little flower in your lonely path -- and if an
unbeliever has such a wish, surely an infinitely good being never
made a soul to be the food of pain through countless years.

                                            "Sincerely yours,

                                             "R.G. Ingersoll."

     The reply: --

"Dear Colonel Ingersoll:

     "I found your letter inclosed with one from ______ [Mrs.
Cooper] at my door on the way to this hotel to see a friend. I
broke the seal here, and through blinding tears -- letting it fall
from my hands between each sentence to sob my heart out -- read it.
The first peace I have known, real peace, since the terrible blow,
has come to me now. While I will not doubt the existence of God, I
feel that I can rest my grief-stricken heart on his goodness and
mercy; and you have helped me do this. Why, you have helped me to
believe in an all-merciful and loving Creator, who has gathered (I
will try to believe) my poor little boy -- my kind, large-hearted
child -- into his tender and sheltering arms. There is genuine ring
in your words that lifts me up.

     "Your belief, so clear and logical, so filled with common-
sense, corresponding, so far back as I can remember, with my own
matter-of-fact ideas; and I was the child of good and praying
parents; and my great wondering eyes, questioning silently when
they talked to me, -- my strange ways, while I tried to be good, --
caused them often great anxiety and many a pang -- God forgive me!

     "I am writing, while people are talking about me, just a line
to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the comfort you have
given me to-day. You great good man; I see the traces of your tears
all over your letter, and I could clasp your hand and bless you for
this comfort you have given my poor heart."

     And so, at last, we find that Ingersoll did not seek to
destroy the hope of another life, but that he merely sought "to
prevent theologians from destroying this"; that he did not seek to


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               191

             INGERSOLL, A BIOGRAPHICAL APPRECIATION

disparage the idea of a heaven in which rewards should be based
upon the principles of eternal justice, but that he did seek "to
put out the ignorant and revengeful fires of hell." We find that he
did not affirm, that he did not deny, but that, because he lived,
the great bow of hope, springing from the depths of human
affection, arches with brighter radiance the darkness of honest
doubt.

     [NOTE: The Mrs. Cooper mentioned in the text and letters was
president of the Golden Gate Kindergarten Association and Free
Normal Training School. She was a second or third cousin of
Ingersoll. Eleven years after the occurrence of the incident above
related, -- that is, after eleven more years of experience in the
church, -- she wrote to Ingersoll, in part as follows: "Were I to
pass away before you, dear cousin Robert, I would rather have you
say a few words over my sleeping dust than any one in the world. I
believe in you. I believe less and less in theologians. Experience
has forced this upon me. There are some true, good men in the
ministry. There are many false-hearted men, who do not
deserve to be respected. Of this I am sure."]




                          ****     ****

    Reproducible Electronic Publishing can defeat censorship.

                          ****     ****











                          ****     ****

   The Bank of Wisdom Inc. is a collection of the most thoughtful,
scholarly and factual books. These computer books are reprints of
suppressed books and will cover American and world history; the
Biographies and writings of famous persons, and especially of our
nations Founding Fathers. They will include philosophy and
religion. all these subjects, and more, will be made available to
the public in electronic form, easily copied and distributed, so
that America can again become what its Founders intended --

                 The Free Market-Place of Ideas.

   The Bank of Wisdom is always looking for more of these old,
hidden, suppressed and forgotten books that contain needed facts
and information for today. If you have such books please contact
us, we need to give them back to America.


                         Bank of Wisdom
                  Box 926, Louisville, KY 40201
                               192