Lectures of Col. R. G. Ingersoll, Volume I: Including His Answers to the Clergy, His Oration at His Brother's Grave, Etc., Etc.Ingersoll, Robert Green
Religion
Lectures of Col. R. G. Ingersoll, Volume I: Including His Answers to the Clergy, His Oration at His Brother's Grave, Etc., Etc.
Ingersoll, Robert Green
Free thought
Every orthodox writer necessarily said to himself, "If I write that, my
wife and children may want for bread, I will be covered with shame and
branded with infamy, but if I write this, I will gain position, power
and honor. My church rewards defenders and burns reformers." Under
these conditions, all your Scotts, Henrys and McKnights have written;
and weighed in these scales what are their commentaries worth? They
are not the ideas and decisions of honest judges, but the sophisms of
the paid attorneys of superstition. Who can tell what the world has
lost by this infamous system of suppression? How many grand thinkers
died with the mailed hand of superstition on their lips? How many
splendid ideas have perished in the cradle of the brain, strangled in
the poisonous coils of that python, the church!
For thousands of years a thinker was hunted down like an escaped
convict. To him, who had braved the church, every door was shut, every
knife was open. To shelter him from the wild storm, to give him a
crust of bread when dying, to put a cup of water to his cracked and
bleeding lips; these were all crimes, not one of which the church ever
did forgive; and with the justice taught of God his helpless children
were exterminated as scorpions and vipers.
Who at the present day can imagine the courage, the devotion to
principle, the intellectual and moral grandeur it once required to be
an infidel, to brave the church, her racks, her fagots, her dungeons,
her tongues of fire--to defy and scorn her heaven and her devil and her
God? They were the noblest sons of earth. They were the real saviors
of our race, the destroyers of superstition and the creators of
science. They were the real Titans who bared their grand foreheads to
all the thunderbolts of all the gods. The church has been, and still
is, the great robber. She has rifled not only the pockets but the
brains of the world. She is the stone at the sepulcher of liberty; the
upas tree in whose shade the intellect of man has withered; the gorgon
beneath whose gaze the human heart has turned to stone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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