Q. What does Religion mean to you?
A. It means nothing; and it seems, so far as I can observe, useless to others. I am sixty-seven years
of age and have resided in X. fifty years, and have been in business forty-five, consequently I have
some little experience of life and men, and some women too, and I find that the most religious and
pious people are as a rule those most lacking in uprightness and morality. The men who do not go
to church or have any religious convictions are the best. Praying, singing of hymns, and
sermonizing are pernicious — they teach us to rely on some supernatural power, when we ought to
rely on ourselves. I teetotally disbelieve in a God. The God-idea was begotten in ignorance, fear,
and a general lack of any knowledge of Nature. If I were to die now, being in a healthy condition
for my age, both mentally and physically, I would just as lief, yes, rather, die with a hearty
enjoyment of music, sport, or any other rational pastime. As a timepiece stops, we die — there
being no immortality in either case.
Q. What comes before your mind corresponding to the words God, Heaven, Angels, etc.?
A. Nothing whatever. I am a man without a religion. These words mean so much mythic bosh.
Q. Have you had any experience which appeared providential?
A. None whatever. There is no agency of the superintending kind. A little judicious observation as
well as knowledge of scientific law will convince any one of this fact.
Q. What things work most strongly on your emotions?
A. Lively songs and music; Pinafore instead of an Oratorio. I like Scott, Burns, Byron,
Longfellow, especially Shakespeare, etc., etc. Of songs, the Star-spangled Banner, America,
Marseillaise, and all moral and soul-stirring songs, but wishy-washy hymns are my detestation. I
greatly enjoy nature, especially fine weather, and until within a few years used to walk Sundays
into the country, twelve miles often, with no fatigue, and bicycle forty or fifty. I have dropped the
bicycle. I never go to church, but attend lectures when there are any good ones. All of my thoughts
and cogitations have been of a healthy and cheerful kind, for instead of doubts and fears I see
things as they are, for I endeavor to adjust myself to my environment. This I regard as the deepest
law. Mankind is a progressive animal. I am satisfied he will have made a great advance over his
present status a thousand years hence.
Q. What is your notion of sin?
A. It seems to me that sin is a condition, a disease, incidental to man’s development not being yet
advanced enough. Morbidness over it increases the disease. We should think that a million of years
hence equity, justice, and mental and physical good order will be so fixed and organized that no one
will have any idea of evil or sin.
Q. What is your temperament?
A. Nervous, active, wide-awake, mentally and physically. Sorry that Nature compels us to sleep at
all.
If we are in search of a broken and a contrite heart, clearly we need not look to this
brother. His contentment with the finite incases him like a lobster-shell and shields him
from all morbid repining at his distance from the Infinite. We have in him an excellent
example of the optimism which may be encouraged by popular science.