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In another account of what is said to have been the same transaction--
which is the most sensible account of the two--the Supreme Brahma
concluded, as he had a little leisure, that he would make a world, and a
man and woman. He made the world, the man, and then the woman, and then
placed the pair on the Island of Ceylon. (Bear in mind, there were no
ribs used in this affair.) This island is said to be the most beautiful
that the mind of man can conceive of. Such birds you never saw, such
songs you never heard! and then such flowers, such verdure! The
branches of the trees were so arranged that when the winds swept
through, there floated out from every tree melodious strains of music
from a thousand! Aeolian harps! After Brahma put them there, he said:
"Let them have a period of courtship, for it is my desire and will that
true love should forever precede marriage." And with the nightingale
singing, and the stars twinkling, and the little brooklets murmuring,
and the flowers blooming, and the gentle breezes fanning their brows,
they courted, and loved! What a sweet courtship. Then Brahma married
the happy pair, and remarked: "Remain here; you can be happy on this
island, and it is my will that you never leave it." Well, after a
little while the man became uneasy, and said to the wife of his youth, "I
believe I'll look about a little." He determined to seek greener
pastures. He proceeded to the western extremity of the island, and
discovered a little narrow neck of land connecting the island with the
mainland, and the devil--they had a genuine devil in those days, too, it
seems, who is always "playing the devil" with us--produced a mirage, and
over on the mainland were such hills and vales, such dells and dales,
such lofty mountains crowned with perpetual snow, such cataracts clad in
bows of glory, that he rushed breathlessly back to his wife,
exclaiming:--"O, Heva! the country over there is a thousand times better
and lovelier than this; let us migrate." She, woman-like, said
"Adami, we must let well enough alone; we have all we want; let us
stay here." But he said: "No, we will go." She followed him, and when
they came to this narrow neck of land, he took her upon his back and
carried her across. But at the instant he put her down there was a
crash, and looking back they discovered that this narrow neck of land
had fallen into the sea. The mirage had disappeared, and there was
nothing but rocks and sand, and the Supreme Brahma cursed them to the
lowest hell. Then Adami spoke--and it showed him to be every inch a man
--"Curse me, but curse not her; it was not her fault, it was mine."
(Our Adam says, with a pusillanimous whine,--Curse her, for it is her
fault: she tempted me and I did eat!" The world, today, is teeming
with just such cowards!) Then said Brahma, "I will save her, but not
thee." And then spoke his wife, out of the fullness of the love of a
heart in which there was enough to make all her daughters rich in holy
affection, "If thou wilt not spare him, spare neither me; I do not wish
to live without him. I love him." Then magnanimously said the Supreme
Brahma, "I will spare you both, and watch over you and your children
forever!"

Now, tell me truly, which is the grander story? The book containing
this story is full of good things; and yet Christians style as heathens
those who have adopted this book as their guide, and spend thousands of
dollars annually in sending missionaries to convert them!

It has been too often conceded that because the new testament contains,
in many passages, a lofty and terse expression of love as the highest
duty of man, Christianity must have a tendency to ennoble his nature.
But Christianity is like sweetened whisky and water--it perverts and
destroys that which it should nourish and strengthen.

Christianity makes an often fatal attack on a man's morality--if he
happens to be blessed with any--by substituting for the sentiments of
love and duty to our neighbors, a sense of obligation of blind obedience
to an infinite, mysterious, revengeful, tyrannical God! The real
principle of Christian morality, is servile obedience to a dangerous
Power! Dispute the assertions of even your priest as to the
requirements, dislikes, desires and wishes of the Almighty, and you
might as well count yourself as lost, sulphurically lost! If you are
one of God's chosen, or in other words, have been saved, and are even so
fortunate as to attain to the glories and joys of the gold-paved streets
of heaven, you are expected, in looking over the banisters of heaven
down into the abyss of eternal torture, to view with complacency the
agonized features of your mother, sister, brother, or infant child--who
are writhing in hell--and laugh at their calamity! You are not allowed
to carry them a drop of water to cool their parched tongue! And if you
are a Christian, you at this moment believe you will enjoy the
situation!

If a man in a quarrel cuts down his neighbor in his sins, the poor,
miserable victim goes directly to hell! The murderer may reasonably
count on a lease of a few weeks of life, interviews his pastor,
confesses the crime, repents, accepts the grace of God, is forgiven, and
then smoothly and gently slides from the rudely-constructed scaffold
into a haven of joy and bliss, there to sing the praises of the Lamb of
God forever and forever! Poor, unfortunate victim! Happy murderer!

Ah, what a beautiful religion humanitarianism and charity * might
become!

[* The following incident, showing Col. Ingersoll's disposition to
practice what he preaches whenever the opportunity presents itself, we
have never before seen in print. One day, during the winter of 1863-4,
when the colonel had a law office in Peoria. Ill.--and before the close
of the late war of the rebellion--a thinly clad, middle-aged, lady-like
woman came into his office and asked assistance, "My good woman, why do
you ask it?" "Sir, my husband is a private in the --th Illinois
infantry, and stationed somewhere in Virginia, but I do not know where
as I have not heard from him for nearly six months, although previous to
that time I seldom failed to get a letter from him as often as once a
week, and whenever he received his pay the most of his money came to me.
To tell the truth, I do not know whether he is living or not. But one
thing I do know, I do not hear from him. I have seven children to
provide for, but no money in the house, not a particle of bread in the
pantry, nor a lump of coal in the shed, and the landlord threatening to
turn us out in the storm. This city pledged itself to give wives a
certain sum monthly, providing they consented to their husband's
responding to the call of the President for troops, but, disregarding
these pledges, we and our children are left to starve and freeze, and to
be turned out of our houses and homes by relentless landlords. Now, sir,
can you tell me what I am to do?

The Colonel drew his bandanna from his great coat pocket, lightly
touched his eyes with it, and rising to his feet, pointed to a chair--
"Sit down, madame, and remain till I return. I will be back in a few
minutes." He picked up a half-sheet of legal-cap and a pencil, and
departed for the law and other offices of the building--of which there
were several. Entering the first that appeared, "Good morning, Smith,
give me half-a-dollar." "Well, now, colonel, you are--" "Never mind
if I am--I must have it!" It came. He entered another. "Hello!
colonel, what's new?" "I want a half-dollar from you!" 'What for?"
"None of your business--I want the money." He got it. He entered a
third. "Hello, Bob! Anything new on eter--" "Never mind, I must have
fifty cents!" "But--" "But nothing, Jones, give me what I ask for."
Of course he got what he asked for. So on through fourteen offices,
from which he obtained $7. Returning to his office, he put his hand in
his own pocket and drew forth a $5 note, and handed the woman $12.
"Take this, my good woman, and make it go as far as you can. If you
obtain relief from no other source, call on me again and I will do the
best I can for you!" And still Col. Ingersoll is styled by hell-fire
advocates an infidel, atheist, dog!]

To do so sweet a thing as to love our neighbors as we love ourselves;
to strive to attain to as perfect a spirit as a Golden Rule would bring
us into; to make virtue lovely by living it, grandly and nobly and
patiently the outgrowth of a brotherhood not possible in this world
where men are living away from themselves, and trampling justice and
mercy and forgiveness under their feet!

Speaking of the different religions, of course they are represented by
the different churches; and the best hold of the churches, and the
surest way of giving totally depraved humanity a realizing sense of
their utterly lost condition, is to talk and preach hell with all its
horrible, terrible concomitants. True, the different priests advocate
the doctrine, only when they see that it is the only thing to rouse the
sinners from their lethargy; for where is the man who will not accept
the grace of Jesus Christ, if he becomes convinced that his state in the
hereafter is a terrible one! The ministers of the different churches
know full well which side of their bread is buttered. A priest is a
divinity among his people--a man around whom his parishioners throw a
glamour of sanctity, and one who can do no wrong; albeit, his chief and
growing characteristics are tyranny, arrogancy, self-conceit, deception,
bigotry and superstition! Tyrannical do I call them? Most assuredly!
Suppose, for example, the Methodist, or Presbyterian church had the
power to decide whether you, or I, or any other man, should be a
Methodist or Presbyterian, and we should decline to follow the path
pointed out to us, or either of us, what I solemnly and candidly ask
you, would be the result? Our fate would be more terrible than their
endless hell! The inquisition would rise again in all its horrid
blackness! Instruments of torture would darken our vision on every
hand! But, thank God--not that terrible being whom Christians would
have us believe is our Maker--this is a free land--free as the air we
breathe; and you and I can partake of the orthodox waters of life
freely, or we can let them alone! When I see a man perched upon a
pedestal called a "pulpit" a man who is one of nature's noblemen,
physically, and fully able to breast the storms of life and earn his
honest living--telling his hearers with perspiring brow and all his
might and main of the terrors of the seething cauldron of hell, and how
certain it is that they are to be unceremoniously dumped therein to be
boiled through all ages, yet never boiled done--unless they seek
salvation--when I look upon that man, honor bright, I pity him, for I
cannot help comparing him with the lower animals! Then there is a
reaction, and I feel an utter contempt for him, for he may know, when he
declares hell is a reality, that he is lying!

Now, of the deception of the preacher. At the close of a sermon in an
orthodox church, Rev. Mr. Solemnface steps to the side of Bro.
Everbright, who has been absent from the brimstone-mill for several
months:

"Ah, Bro. Everbright, how do you do? Long time since I have seen you;
how's your family? Quite well? Is it well with thee today? Rather
lukewarm, eh? Sorry, sorry. Well, brother, can you do something for us
financially, today? Our people think my pulpit is too common, and say a
couple hundred will put it in good shape, and make it desirable and
attractive. Can you contribute a few dollars to the fund?"

"Well, Bro. Solemnface, for four long months I have been ill; not a
day's work have I done, and not a cent of money have I that I can call
my own. Next year I trust I can do something for the cause of my
Maker."

"Ah-h-h-h-h-h!" and Bro. S.'s face assumes a terrible look of
disappointment, and he is gone in a moment. Out upon such a fraud! The
pulpits of the land are full of them. The world is cursed with them!
They possess all the elements of vagabonds, dead-beats, falsifiers,
beggars, vultures, hyenas and jackals!

In past ages the cross has been in partnership with the sword, and the
religion of Christ was established by murderers, tyrants and hypocrites.
I want you to know that the church carried the black flag, and I ask you
what must have been the civilizing influence of such a religion? Of all
the selfish things in this world, it is one man wanting to get to
heaven, caring nothing what becomes of the rest of mankind, saying: "If
I can only get my little soul in!" I have always noticed that the
people who have the smallest souls make the most fuss about getting them
saved. Here is what we are taught by the church of today. We are
taught by them that fathers and mothers can all be happy in heaven, no
matter who may be in hell; that the husband could be happy there, with
the wife that would have died for him at any moment of his life, in
hell. But they say, "Hell, we don't believe in fire. I don't think you
understand me. What we believe in now is remorse." What will you have
remorse for? For the mean things you have done when you are in hell?
Will you have any remorse for the mean things you have done when you are
in heaven? Or will you be so good then that you won't care how you used
to be? I tell you today, that no matter in what heaven you may be, no
matter in what star you are spending the summer; if you meet another man
whom you have wronged, you will drop a little behind in the tune. And,
no matter in what part of hell you are, you will meet some one who has
suffered, whose nakedness you have clothed, and the fire will cool up a
little. According to this Christian doctrine, you won't care how mean
you were once. Is it a compliment to an infinite God to say that every
being He ever made deserved to be damned the minute He had got him done,
and that He will damn everybody He has not had a chance to make over?
Is it possible that somebody else can be good for me, and that this
doctrine of the atonement is the only anchor for the human soul?

We sit by the fireside and see the flames and sparks fly up the chimney
--everybody happy, and the cold wind and sleet beating on the window, and
out on the doorstep a mother with a child on her breast freezing. How
happy it makes a fire, that beautiful contrast. And we say God is good,
and there we sit, and there she sits and moans, not one night, but
forever. Or we are sitting at the table with our wives and children,
everybody eating, happy and delighted, and Famine comes and pushes out
its shriveled palms, and, with hungry eyes, implores us for a crust; how
that would increase the appetite! And that is the Christian heaven.
Don't you see that these infamous doctrines petrify the human heart?
And I would have every one who hears me swear that he will never
contribute another dollar to build another church, in which is taught
such infamous lies. Let every man try to make every day a joy, and God
cannot afford to damn such a man. Consequently humanity is the only real
religion.

"Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless millions mourn."

Ingersoll's Lecture on the Review of His Reviewers

Ladies and Gentlemen: "What have I said?" "What has been my offense?
I have been spoken of as if I were a wolf endeavoring to devour the
entire fold of sheep in the absence of the shepherd." I believe in the
trinity of observation, reason and science; the trinity of man, woman
and child; the trinity of love, joy and hope; and thought that every
man has a right to think for himself, and no other man has the right to
debar him of this privilege by torture, by social ostracism, or any of
the numerous other expedients resorted to by the enemies of advancement.
I ask: "Does God wish the lip-worship of a slave? a sneak? of the man
that dares not reason? If I were the infinite God, I would rather have
the worship of one good man of brains than a world of such men. I am
told that I am in danger of everlasting fire, and that I shall burn
forever in hell: I tell you, my friends, if I were going to hell
tonight I would take an overcoat with me. Do not tell me that the
eternal future of a man may depend upon his belief, I deny it. That a
man should be punished for having come to an honest conclusion, the
honest production of his brain; that an honest conclusion should be
deemed a crime and so declared, it is an infamous, monstrous assertion,
and I would rather go to hell than to keep the company of a God who
would damn his child for an honest belief.

"Next, I 'preached' that a woman was the equal of man, entitled to
everything that he is entitled to, to be his partner, and to be
cherished and respected because she is the weaker, to be treated as a
splendid flower. I said that man should not be cross to her, but fill
the house that she is in with such joy that it would burst out at the
window. I have said that matrimony is the holiest of sacraments, and I
have said that the bible took woman up thousands of years ago and handed
her down to man as a slave, and I have said that the bible is a
barbarous book for teaching that she is a slave, and I repeat it, and
will prove later what I have said. I have pleaded for the right of man,
of wife, and of the little child; I have said we can govern children by
love and affection; I have asked for tender treatment for the child of
crime; I have asked mothers to cease beating their children and take
them to their hearts; and for this I am denounced by the religious
press and men in the pulpits as a demon and a monster of heresy, who
should be driven out from among you as an unclean thing.

"But I should not complain. Only a few years ago I should have been
compelled to look at my denouncers through flame and smoke; but they
dare not treat me so now or they would. One hundred years ago I should
have been burned for claiming the right of reason; fifty years ago I
should have been imprisoned and my wife and children would have been
torn away from me, and twenty-five years ago I could not have made a
living in the United States in my profession--the law. But I live now
and can see through it all, and all is light. I delivered another
lecture, on "Ghosts," in which I sought to show that man had been
controlled in the past by phantoms created by his own imagination; in
which the pencil of fear had drawn pictures for him on the canvass of
superstition, and that men had groveled in they dirt before their own
superstitious creations. I endeavored to show that man had received
nothing from these ghosts but hatred, blood, ignorance and unhappiness,
and that they had filled our world with woe and tears. This is what I
endeavored to show--no more. Now, every one has as much right to differ
with me as I with them, but it does not make the slightest difference
for the purpose of argument whether I am a good man or a bad, whether I
am ugly or handsome--although I would not object to resting my case on
that issue; the only thing to be considered and discussed is, is what I
have said true, or is it untrue?

"Now, I said that the bible came from the ghosts, and that they gave us
the doctrine of immortality of the soul, which I deny. Now, the
immortality of the soul, if there is such a thing, is a fact, and
therefore no book could make it. If I am immortal, I am; if not, no
book can make me so. The doctrine of immortality is based in the hope
of the human heart, and is not derived from any book or creed. It has
its origin in the ebb and flow of the human affections, and will
continue as long as affection, and is the rainbow in the sky of hope.
It does not depend on a book, on ghosts, superstition of any kind; it
is a flower of the human heart. I did say that these ghosts, or the
book, taught that human slavery was right, that most monstrous of all
crimes, that makes miserable the victim and debases the master, for a
slave can have all the virtues while the master can not. I did say that
it riveted the chains upon the oppressed, and that it counseled the
robbing of that most precious of all boons--Liberty. I add that the
book upheld all this, that it sustained and sanctified the institution
of human slavery. I did also assert that this same book, which my
critics claim was inspired by God, inculcated the doctrine of
witchcraft, for which people, through its teaching were hanged and
burned for bringing disease upon the regal persons of kings, and for
souring beer. I did say that this book upheld that most of all
infamies, polygamy, and that it did not teach political liberty or
religious toleration, but political slavery and the most wretched
intolerance. I did try to prove that these ghosts knew less than
nothing about medicine, politics, legislation, astronomy, geology and
astrology, but I am also aware that in saving these things I have done
what my censors think I ought not to have done. But the victor ought
not to feel malice, and I shall have none. As soon as I had said all
these things, some gentlemen felt called upon to answer them, which they
had a right to do. Now, I like fairness, am enamored with it, probably
because I get so little of it. I can say a great many mean things, for
I have read all the religious papers, and I ought to be able to account
for every motive in a mean manner after.

"The first gentleman whom I shall call your attention to is the Rev. Dr.
Woodbridge. It seems that when I delivered my lectures the conclusion
had come to "that man does not believe in anything but matter and force
--that man does not believe in spirit." Why not? If by spirit you mean
that which thinks, I am one of them myself. If you mean by spirit that
which hopes and reasons and loves and aspires, why, then, I am a
believer in spirits; but whatever spirit there is in this universe I
will take my oath is a natural product and not superimposed upon this
world. All I will say is that whatever is, is natural, and there is as
much goodness in my judgment, as much spirit here in this world as in
any other, and you are just as near the heart of the universe here as
you ever can be.

But, they say, "there is matter and force, and there is force and there
is spirit." Well, what of it? There is no matter without force. What
would keep it together unless there was force? Can you imagine matter
without force? Honor bright, can you conceive of force without
matter? And what is spirit? They say spirit is the first thing that
ever was. It seems to me sometimes as though spirit was the blossom and
fruit of all, and not the commencement. But they say spirit was first.
What would that spirit do? No force--no matter--a spirit living in an
infinite vacuum without side, edge or bottom. This spirit created the
world; and if this spirit did, there must have been a time when it
commenced to create, and back of that an eternity spent in absolute
idleness. Can a spirit exist without matter or without force? I
honestly say I do not know what matter is, what force is, what spirit
is; but if you mean by matter anything that I can touch, or by force
anything that we can overcome then I believe in them. If you mean by
spirit anything that can think and love, I believe in spirits.

"The next critic who assailed me was the Rev. Mr. Kalloch. I am not
going to show you what I can withstand. I am not going to say a word
about the reputation of this man, although he took some liberties with
mine. This gentleman says negation is a poor thing to die by. I would
just as lief die by that as the opposite. He spoke of the last hours of
Paine and Voltaire and the terrors of their death-beds; but the
question arises, is there a word of truth in all he said? I have
observed that the murderer dies with courage and firmness in many
instances, but that does not make me think that it sanctified his crime;
in fact, it makes no impression upon me one way or the other. When a man
through old age or infirmity approaches death the intellectual faculties
are dimmed, his senses become less and less, and as he loses these he
goes back to his old superstition. Old age brings back the memories of
childhood. And the great bard gave in the corrupt and besotted
Falstaff--who prattled of babbling brooks and green fields--an instance
of the retracing steps taken by the memory at the last gasp. It has
been said that the bible was sanctified by our mothers. Every
superstition in the world, from the beginning of all time, has had such
a sanctification. The Turk dying on the Russian battlefield, pressing
the Koran to his bosom, breathes his last thinking of the loving
adjuration of his mother to guard it. Every superstition has been
rendered sacred by the love of a mother. I know what it has cost the
noble and the brave to throw to the winds these superstitions. Since
the death of Voltaire, who was innocent of all else than a desire to
shake off the superstitions of the past, the curse of Rome has pursued
him, and ignorant protestants have echoed that curse. I like Voltaire.
Whenever I think of him it is as a plumed knight coming from the fray
with victory shining upon his brow. He was once in the Bastille, and
while there he changed his name from Francis Marie Aloysius to Voltaire;
and when the Bastille was torn down "Voltaire" was the battle cry of
those who did it. He did more to bring about religious toleration than
any man in the galaxy of those who strove for the privilege of free
thought. He was always on the side of justice. He was full of faults
and had many virtues. His doctrines have never brought unhappiness to
any country. He died as serenely as anyone could. Speaking to his
servant, he said, "Farewell my faithful friend." Could he have done a
more noble act than to recognize him who had served him faithfully as a
man? What more could he wished? And now let me say here, I will give a
$1,000 in gold to any clergyman who can substantiate that the death of
Voltaire was not as peaceful as the dawn. And of Thomas Paine, whom
they assert died in fear and agony, frightened by the clanking chains of
devils, in fact, frightened to death by God--I will give $1,000 likewise
to anyone who can substantiate this absurd story--a story without a word
of truth in it. And let me ask, who dies in the most fear, the man who,
like the saint, exclaims: "My God, my God! why hast thou forsaken me?"
or Voltaire, who peacefully and quietly bade his servant farewell? The
question is not who died right, but who lived right. I look upon death
as the most unimportant moment of life, and believe that not half the
responsibility is attached to dying that is to living properly. This
Rev. Mr. Kalloch is a baptist. He has a right to be a baptist. The
first baptist, though was a heretic; but it is among the wonders that
when a heretic gets fifteen or twenty to join him he suddenly begins to
be orthodox. Roger Williams was a baptist, but how he, or anyone not
destitute of good sense, could be one, passes my comprehension. Let me
illustrate:

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