Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 10.pdf/146



Christianity and Civilization. — Mr. Robert Ingersoll, the apostle of agnosticism, asks : —

"Has it (the church) ever taught man to cultivate the earth? to build homes? to weave cloth? to cure or prevent disease? to build ships to navigate the seas? to conquer pain or to lengthen life."

A foolish man can ask more questions in a minute than a wise man can answer in an hour. There are some questions so silly that it is difficult to answer them. Even a child can pose its elders with unanswerable questions. But it seems to us that substituting "Christianity" for "the church," which is what Mr. Ingersoll really means, he has selected exactly the questions that may unhesitatingly be answered in the affirmative. These are the very things practised and accomplished in Christian times and countries, and not in others. "To build homes," — Christianity has done everything for the establishment and conservation of the family, the basis of society and civilization. "To cure or prevent disease," — "to conquer pain or to lengthen life," — the achievements of medical science are all the outgrowth of Christian civilization. If the eloquent but disbelieving Robert should find it necessary to submit to a surgical operation, we have no doubt he would not despise an anaesthetic. "To build ships to navigate the seas," — one would suppose Columbus and the mariner's compass would occur to him. Mr. Ingersoll would find some difficulty in going over sea every summer if the old notions of astronomy and navigation prevailed.

Unless Mr. Ingersoll is uttering empty breath, we must suppose he is in favor of substituting agnosticism for Christianity. Whereupon we might turn around and ask him these very questions about his doctrine. What has agnosticism or Mr. Ingersoll done, or what can they do, to better mankind? Has this eloquent orator brought any comfort by his words to a single human being, elevated him in the social, intellectual, or moral scale, or made a better citizen of him? Of what use is he in the world, anyway? Certainly of none whatever on the agnostic lecture-platform. He simply runs about the country, exploiting his views, by no means novel, to men who principally agree with him beforehand, for a handsome remuneration. We should have just as much respect for him if he avowed the ante-Copernican system of astronomy, or that the livers of toads were sovereign for consumption, or set up a curiously carved log for his deity. The trouble with the eloquent Robert is that although he fancies that he is an advanced thinker, in reality he is not "up to date." His ideas and objections are all a century old, or older, and have been answered to the satisfaction of the greatest intellects. His god, Shakespeare, apparently believed in God. If he would bring to bear on the ideas of Christianity the same saving common sense that he exhibits in regard to the Bacon-Shakespeare controversy, his logical position would be more respectable. All this must be accompanied by the admission that Christianity is one thing and the church is another, and that the latter has not always been in harmony with the former, and indeed has often stood in its way and opposed its precepts. Theology is a different thing from religion, and where it is inconsistent with it, we are just as deeply hostile to it as Mr. Ingersoll, if not so violent.

. — Spite of the prejudice of the common law against eavesdroppers, some of the best things that come to the knowledge of mankind arrive overheard. Many men would get more enjoyment out of life if they used their ears more and their tongues less, and probably would confer more. Many a bit of wisdom or humor or sympathy has come to the Chairman through the portals of his ears while he has been passing his vacation daily in the barber's chair or on the street-car. The other day a conver sation fell on his ears in a street-car which illustrated the fact that tender sympathy and fine feelings are not the exclusive possession of the so-called upper classes, but that they exist in large measure in very humble persons. By the Chairman's side sat a rather stolid-looking man, who was presently joined by a newcomer of a similar type. They saluted one another as acquaintances who had not met in a long time, and then the following dialogue ensued: "Had you heard of the death of my little Charlie?" "Why, no; you don't tell me!" "Yes, sir; poor little chap died last Thanksgiving day. You know he is 125