Howard Pyle - "Otto of the Silver Hand"

Henry Mackenzie - "The Man of Feeling"

Lafcadio Hearn - "Japan: An Attempt at Interpretation"

Margaret Sidney - "Five Little Peppers Abroad"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Lectures Of Col. R. G. Ingersoll, Vol. I

C >> Col. Robert Green Ingersoll >> Lectures Of Col. R. G. Ingersoll, Vol. I




For ages all nations supposed that the sick and insane were possessed by
evil spirits. For thousands of years the practice of medicine consisted
in frightening these spirits away. Usually the priests would make the
loudest and most discordant noises possible. They would blow horns,
beat upon rude drums, clash cymbals, and in the meantime utter the most
unearthly yells. If the noise-remedy failed, they would implore the aid
of some more powerful spirit.

To pacify these spirits was considered of infinite importance. The poor
barbarian, knowing that men could be softened by gifts, gave to these
spirits that which to him seemed of the most value. With bursting heart
he would offer the blood of his dearest child. It was impossible for him
to conceive of a god utterly unlike himself, and he naturally supposed
that these powers of the air would be affected a little at the sight of
so great and so deep a sorrow. It was with the barbarian then as with
the civilized now--one class lived upon and made merchandise of the
fears of another. Certain persons took it upon themselves to appease the
gods, and to instruct the people in their duties to these unseen powers.
This was the origin of the priesthood. The priest pretended to stand
between the wrath of the gods and the helplessness of man. He was man's
attorney at the court of heaven. He carried to the invisible world a
flag of truce, a protest and a request. He came back with a command,
with authority and with power. Man fell upon his knees before his own
servant, and the priest, taking advantage of the awe inspired by his
supposed influence with the gods, made of his fellow-man a cringing
hypocrite and slave. Even Christ, the supposed son of God, taught that
persons were possessed of evil spirits, and frequently, according to the
account, gave proof of his divine origin and mission by frightening
droves of devils out of his unfortunate countrymen. Casting out devils
was his principal employment, and the devils thus banished generally
took occasion to acknowledge him as the true Messiah; which was not
only very kind of them, but quite fortunate for him. The religious
people have always regarded the testimony of these devils as perfectly
conclusive, and the writers of the New Testament quote the words of
these imps of darkness with great satisfaction.

The fact that Christ could withstand the temptations of the devil was
considered as conclusive evidence that he was assisted by some god, or
at least by some being superior to man. St. Matthew gives an account of
an attempt made by the devil to tempt the supposed son of God; and it
has always excited the wonder of Christians that the temptation was so
nobly and heroically withstood. The account to which I refer is as
follows:

"Then was Jesus led up of the spirit into the wilderness to be tempted
of the devil. And when the tempter came to him, he said: 'If thou be
the son of God command that these stones be made bread.' But he
answered, and said 'It is written: man shall not live by bread alone,
but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.' Then the
devil taketh him up into the holy city and setteth him upon a pinnacle
of the temple and saith unto him: 'If thou be the son of God, cast
thyself down, for it is written. He shall give his angels charge
concerning thee, lest at any time thou shalt dash thy foot against a
stone.' Jesus said unto him 'It is written again, thou shalt not tempt
the Lord thy God.' Again the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high
mountain and showeth him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of
them, and saith unto him 'All these will I give thee if thou wilt fall
down and worship me.'"

The Christians now claim that Jesus was God. If he was God, of course
the devil knew that fact, and yet, according to this account, the devil
took the omnipotent God and placed him upon a pinnacle of the temple,
and endeavored to induce him to dash himself against the earth. Failing
in that, he took the creator, owner and governor of the universe up into
an exceeding high mountain, and offered him this world--this grain of
sand--if he, the God of all the worlds, would fall down and worship him,
a poor devil, without even a tax title to one foot of dirt! Is it
possible the devil was such an idiot? Should any great credit be given
to this deity for not being caught with such chaff? Think of it! The
devil--the prince of sharpers--the king of cunning--the master of
finesse, trying to bribe God with a grain of sand that belonged to God!

Is there in ail the religious literature of the world any thing more
grossly absurd than this?

These devils, according to the bible, were various kinds--some could
speak and hear, others were deaf and dumb. All could not be cast out in
the same way. The deaf and dumb spirits were quite difficult to deal
with. St. Mark tells of a gentleman who brought his son to Christ. The
boy, it seems, was possessed of a dumb spirit, over which the disciples
had no control. "Jesus said unto the spirit: 'Thou dumb and deaf
spirit. I charge thee come out of him, and enter no more into him.'"
Whereupon, the deaf spirit having heard what was said, cried out (being
dumb) and immediately vacated the premises. The ease with which Christ
controlled this deaf and dumb spirit excited the wonder of his
disciples, and they asked him privately why they could not cast that
spirit out. To whom he replied: "This kind can come forth by nothing
but prayer and fasting." Is there a Christian in the whole world who
would believe such a story if found in any other book? The trouble is,
these pious people shut up their reason, and then open their bible.

In the olden times the existence of devils was universally admitted. The
people had no doubt upon that subject, and from such belief it followed
as a matter of course, that a person, in order to vanquish these devils,
had either to be a god, or to be assisted by one. All founders of
religions have established their claims to divine origin by controlling
evil spirits--and suspending the laws of nature. Casting out devils was
a certificate of divinity. A prophet, unable to cope with the powers of
darkness, was regarded with contempt. The utterance of the highest and
noblest sentiments, the most blameless and holy life, commanded but
little respect, unless accompanied by power to work miracles and command
spirits.

This belief in good and evil powers had its origin in the fact that man
was surrounded by what he was pleased to call good and evil phenomena.
Phenomena affecting man pleasantly were ascribed to good spirits, while
those affecting him unpleasantly or injuriously, were ascribed to evil
spirits. It being admitted that all phenomena were produced by spirits,
the spirits were divided according to the phenomena, and the phenomena
were good or bad as they affected man. Good spirits were supposed to be
the authors of good phenomena, and evil spirits of the evil--so that the
idea of a devil has been as universal as the idea of a god.

Many writers maintain that an idea to become universal must be true;
that all universal ideas are innate, and that innate ideas cannot be
false. If the fact that an idea has been universal proves that it is
innate, and if the fact that an idea is innate proves that it is
correct, then the believer in innate ideas must admit that the evidence
of a god superior to nature, and of a devil superior to nature, is
exactly the same, and that the existence of such a devil must be as
self-evident as the existence of such a god. The truth is, a god was
inferred from good, and a devil from bad, phenomena. And it is just as
natural and logical to suppose that a devil would cause happiness as to
suppose that a god would produce misery. Consequently, if an
intelligence, infinite and supreme, is the immediate author of all
phenomena, it is difficult to determine whether such intelligence is the
friend or enemy of man. If phenomena were all good, we might say they
were all produced by a perfectly beneficent being. If they were all
bad, we, might say they were produced by a perfectly malevolent power;
but as phenomena are, as they affect man, both good and bad, they must
be produced by different and antagonistic spirits; by one who is
sometimes actuated by kindness, and sometimes by malice; or all must be
produced of necessity, and without reference to their consequences upon
man.

The foolish doctrine that all phenomena can be traced to the
interference of good and evil spirits, has been, and still is, almost
universal. That most people still believe in some spirit that can
change the natural order of events, is proven by the fact that nearly
all resort to prayer. Thousands, at this very moment, are probably
imploring some supposed power to interfere in their behalf. Some want
health restored; some ask that the loved and absent be watched over and
protected, some pray for riches, some for rain, some want diseases
stayed, some vainly ask for food, some ask for revivals, a few ask for
more wisdom, and now and then one tells the Lord to do as he thinks
best. Thousands ask to be protected from the devil; some, like David,
pray for revenge, and some implore, even God, not to lead them into
temptation. All these prayers rest upon, and are produced by the idea
that some power not only can, but probably will, change the order of the
universe. This belief has been among the great majority of tribes and
nations. All sacred books are filled with the accounts of such
interferences, and our own bible is no exception to this rule.

If we believe in a power superior to nature, it is perfectly natural to
suppose that such power can and will interfere in the affairs of this
world. If there is no interference, of what practical use can such
power be? The scriptures give us the most wonderful accounts of divine
interference: Animals talk like men; springs gurgle from dry bones;
the sun and moon stop in the heavens in order that General Joshua may
have more time to murder; the shadow on a dial goes back ten degrees to
convince a petty king of a barbarous people that he is not going to die
of a boil; fire refused to burn; water positively declined to seek its
level, but stands up like a wall; grains of sand become lice; common
walking-sticks, to gratify a mere freak, twist themselves into serpents,
and then swallow each other by way of exercise; murmuring streams,
laughing at the attraction of gravitation, run up hill for years,
following wandering tribes from a pure love of frolic; prophecy becomes
altogether easier than history; the sons of God become enamored of the
world's girls; women are changed into salt for the purpose of keeping a
great event fresh in the minds of man; an excellent article of
brimstone is imported from heaven free of duty; clothes refuse to wear
out for forty years, birds keep restaurants and feed wandering prophets
free of expense; bears tear children in pieces for laughing at old men
without wigs; muscular development depends upon the length of one's
hair; dead people come to life, simply to get a joke on their enemies
and heirs; witches and wizards converse freely with the souls of the
departed, and God himself becomes a stone-cutter and engraver, after
having been a tailor and dressmaker.

The veil between heaven and earth was always rent or lifted. The
shadows of this world, the radiance of heaven, and the glare of hell
mixed and mingled until man became uncertain as to which country he
really inhabited. Man dwelt in an unreal world. He mistook his ideas,
his dream, for real things. His fears became terrible and malicious
monsters. He lived in the midst of furies and fairies, nymphs and
naiads, goblins and ghosts, witches and wizards, sprites and spooks,
deities and devils. The obscure and gloomy depths were filled with claw
and wing--with beak and hoof--with leering look and sneering mouths--
with the malice of deformity--with the cunning of hatred, and with all
the slimy forms that fear can draw and paint upon the shadowy canvas of
the dark.

It is enough to make one almost insane with pity to think what man in
the long night has suffered: of the tortures he has endured,
surrounded, as he supposed, by malignant powers and clutched by the
fierce phantoms of the air. No wonder that he fell upon his trembling
knees--that he built altars and reddened them even with his own blood.
No wonder that he implored ignorant priests and impudent magicians for
aid. No wonder that he crawled groveling in the dust to the temple's
door, and there, in the insanity of despair, besought the deaf gods to
hear his bitter cry of agony and fear.

The savage as he emerges from a state of barbarism, gradually loses
faith in his idols of wood and stone, and in their place puts a
multitude of spirits. As he advances in knowledge, he generally
discards the petty spirits, and in their stead believes in one, whom he
supposes to be infinite and supreme. Supposing this great spirit to be
superior to nature, he offers worship or flattery in exchange for
assistance. At last, finding that he obtains no aid from this supposed
deity--finding that every search after the absolute must of necessity
end in failure--finding that man cannot by any possibility conceive of
the conditionless--he begins to investigate the facts by which he is
surrounded, and to depend upon himself.

The people are beginning to think, to reason and to investigate. Slowly,
painfully, but surely, the gods are being driven from the earth. Only
upon rare occasions are they, even by the most religious, supposed to
interfere in the affairs of men. In most matters we are at last
supposed to be free. Since the invention of steamships and railways, so
that the products of all countries can be easily interchanged, the gods
have quit the business of producing famine. Now and then they kill a
child because it is idolized by its parents. As a rule they have given
up causing accidents on railroads, exploding boilers, and bursting
kerosene lamps. Cholera, yellow fever, and smallpox are still
considered heavenly weapons; but measles, itch and ague are now
attributed to natural causes. As a general thing, the gods have stopped
drowning children, except as a punishment for violating the Sabbath.
They still pay some attention to the affairs of kings, men of genius and
persons of great wealth: but ordinary people are left to shirk for
themselves as best they may. In wars between great nations, the gods
still interfere; but in prize fights, the best man with an honest
referee, is almost sure to win.

The church cannot abandon the idea of special providence. To give up
that doctrine is to give up all. The church must insist that prayer is
answered--that some power superior to nature hears and grants the
request of the sincere and humble Christian, and that this same power in
some mysterious way provides for all.

A devout Clergyman sought every opportunity to impress upon the mind of
his son the fact, that God takes care of all his creatures; that the
falling sparrow attracts his attentions, and that his loving kindness is
over all his works. Happening, one day, to see a crane wading in quest
of food, the good man pointed out to his son the perfect adaptation of
the crane to get his living in that manner. "See," said he, "how his
legs are formed for wading! What a long slender bill he has! Observe
how nicely he folds his feet when putting them in or drawing them out of
the water! He does not cause the slightest ripple. He is thus enabled
to approach the fish without giving them any notice of his arrival."
"My son," said he, "it is impossible to look at that bird without
recognizing the design, as well as the goodness of God, in thus
providing the means of subsistence." "Yes" replied the boy, "I think I
see the goodness of God, at least so far as the crane is concerned: but
after all, father, don't you think the arrangement a little tough on the
fish?"

Even the advanced religionist, although disbelieving in any great amount
of interference by the gods in this age of the world, still thinks that
in the beginning some god made the laws governing the universe. He
believes that in consequence of these laws a man can lift a greater
weight with than without a lever; that this god so made matter, and so
established the order of things, that--two bodies cannot occupy the same
space at the same time; so that a body once put in motion will keep
moving until it is stopped; so that it is a greater distance around than
across a circle; so that a perfect square has four equal sides, instead
of five or seven. He insists that it took a direct interposition of
providence to make the whole greater than a part, and that had it not
been for this power superior to nature, twice one might have been more
than twice two, and sticks and strings might have had only one end
apiece. Like the old Scotch divine, he thanks God that Sunday comes at
the end instead of in the middle of the week, and that death comes at
the close instead of at the commencement of life, thereby giving us time
to prepare for that holy day and that most solemn event. These religious
people see nothing but design everywhere, and personal, intelligent
interference in everything. They insist that the universe has been
created, and that the adaptation of means to ends is perfectly apparent.
They point us to the sunshine, to the flowers, to the April rain, and to
all there is of beauty and of use in the world. Did it ever occur to
them that a cancer is as beautiful in its development as is the reddest
rose? That what they are pleased to call the adaptation of means to
ends, is as apparent in the cancer as in the April rain? How beautiful
the process of digestion! By what ingenious methods the blood is
poisoned so that the cancer shall have food! By what wonderful
contrivances the entire system of man is made to pay tribute to this
divine and charming cancer! See by what admirable instrumentalities it
feeds itself from the surrounding, quivering, dainty flesh! See how it
gradually but surely expands and grows! By what marvelous mechanism it
is supplied with long and slender roots that reach out to the most
secret nerves of pain for sustenance and life! What beautiful colors it
presents! Seen through the microscope it is a miracle of order and
beauty. All the ingenuity of man cannot stop its growth. Think of the
amount of thought it must have required to invent a way by which the
life of one man might be given to produce one cancer? Is it possible to
look upon it and doubt that there is design in the universe, and that
the inventor of this wonderful cancer must be infinitely powerful,
ingenious and good?

We are told that the universe was designed and created, and that it is
absurd to suppose that matter has existed from eternity, but that it is
perfectly self-evident that a god has.

If a god created the universe, then there must have been a time when he
commenced to create. Back of that time there must have been an
eternity, during which there had existed nothing--absolutely nothing--
except this supposed god. According to this theory, this god spent an
eternity, so to speak, in an infinite vacuum, and in perfect idleness.

Admitting that a god did create the universe, the question then arises,
of what did he create it? It certainly was not made of nothing.
Nothing, considered in the light of a raw material, is a most decided
failure. It follows, then, that a god must have made the universe out
of himself, he being the only existence. The universe is material, and
if it was made of god, the god must have been material. With this very
thought in his mind, Anaximander of Miletus said: "Creation is the
decomposition of the infinite."

It has been demonstrated that the earth would fall to the sun, only for
the fact that it is attracted by other worlds, and those worlds must be
attracted by other worlds still beyond them, and so on, without end.
This proves the material universe to be infinite. If an infinite
universe has been made out of an infinite god, how much of the god is
left?

The idea of a creative deity is gradually being abandoned, and nearly
all truly scientific minds admit that matter must have existed from
eternity. It is indestructible, and the indestructible cannot be
created. It is the crowning glory of our century to have demonstrated
the indestructibility and the eternal persistence of force. Neither
matter nor force can be increased nor diminished. Force cannot exist
apart from matter. Matter exists only in connection with force, and
consequently a force apart from matter, and superior to nature, is a
demonstrated impossibility.

Force, then, must have also existed from eternity, and could not have
been created. Matter in its countless forms, from dead earth to the
eyes of those we love, and force, in all its manifestations, from simple
motions to the grandest thought, deny creation and defy control.

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!

A god must not only be material, but he must be an organism, capable of
changing other forms of force into thought-force. This is what we call
eating. Therefore, if the god thinks he must eat, that is to say, he
must of necessity have some means of supplying the force with which to
think. It is impossible to conceive of a being who can eternally impart
force to matter, and yet have no means of supplying the force thus
imparted.

If neither matter nor force were created, what evidence have we, then,
of the existence of a power superior to nature? The theologian will
probably reply, "We have law and order, cause and effect, and beside
all this, matter could not have put itself in motion."

Suppose, for the sake of an argument, that there is no being superior to
nature, and that matter and force have existed from eternity. Now
suppose that two atoms should come together, would there be an effect?
Yes. Suppose they came in exactly opposite directions with equal force,
they would be stopped, to say the least. This would be an effect. If
this is so, then you have matter, force and effect without a being
superior to nature. Now suppose that two other atoms, just like the
first two, should come together under precisely the same circumstances,
would not the effect be exactly the same? Yes. Like causes, producing
like effects, is what we mean by law and order. Then we have matter,
force, effect, law and order without a being superior to nature. Now, we
know that every effect must also be a cause, and that every cause must
be an effect. The atoms coming together did produce an effect, and as
every effect must also be a cause, the effect produced by the collision
of the atoms, must, as to something else, have been a cause. Then we
have matter, force, law, order, cause and effect without a being
superior to nature. Nothing is left for the supernatural but empty
space. His throne is a void, and his boasted realm is without matter,
without force, without law, without cause, and without effect.

But what put all this matter in motion? If matter and force have
existed from eternity, then matter must have always been in motion.
There can be no force without motion. Force is forever active, and
there is, and there can be no cessation. If therefore, matter and force
have existed from eternity, so has motion. In the whole universe there
is not even one atom in a state of rest.

A deity outside of nature exists in nothing, and is nothing. Nature
embraces with infinite arms all matter and all force. That which is
beyond her grasp is destitute of both, and can hardly be worth the
worship and adoration even of a man.

There is but one way to demonstrate the existence of a power independent
of and superior to nature, and that is by breaking, if only for one
moment, the continuity of cause and effect. Pluck from the endless
chain of existence one little link; stop for one instant the grand
procession, and you have shown beyond all contradiction that nature has
a master. Change the fact, just for one second, that matter attracts
matter, and a god appears.

The rudest savage has always known this fact, and for that reason always
demanded the evidence of miracle. The founder of a religion must be
able to turn water into wine--cure with a word the blind and lame, and
raise with a simple touch the dead to life. It was necessary for him to
demonstrate to the satisfaction of his barbarian disciple, that he was
superior to nature. In times of ignorance this was easy to do. The
credulity of the savage was almost boundless. To him the marvelous was
the beautiful, the mysterious was the sublime. Consequently, every
religion has for its foundation a miracle--that is to say, a violation
of nature--that is to say, a falsehood.