THE DEVIL'S GOSPEL FOR THE DAY

But they are all burning in this hell, —publicans and prophets, sinners and seers. We have just received a pictured advertisement of a ‘Book for the hour,’ ‘Might is right,’ by an LL.D. It is commended to us thus;—

Taking up the thread of Darwinism where Spencer (in fear and trembling), laid it down, it points out that the highest type of organism is the warrior, and that battle is the process ordained by Nature for dividing the born subordinates and cowards from born nobles and proprietors,—also that man who is really free, is under no obligation to obey any commands, human or divine.

Then war for life and land and love,

For women, power and gold;

‘This earth, and all its treasure vast,

Is booty for the bold.

From the same infernal camp we have received a ‘Poem for the times.’ Here are some verses of it ;—

The strong must ever rule the weak, is grim Primordial law—

On earth’s broad racial threshing floor, the meek are beaten straw —

Then ride to power o’er foemen’s necks, let nothing bar your way;

If you are FIT you'll rule and reign is the logic of to-day.

You must prove your Right by deeds of Might, of splendour and renown—

If need be, march through flames of hell to dash opponents down.

Cain’s knotted club is sceptre still—the ‘Rights of Man’ is fraud;

Christ’s ethics are for creeping things—true manhood smiles at ‘God.’

For Might is Right when empires sink in storms of steel and flame;

And it is RIGHT when weakling breeds are hunted down like game.

One would naturally think that this is an indignant description and denunciation of a wrong; but no; it is the zealous declaration of an infernal gospel. In the same publication we find such prose poetry as this;—

There is no ‘Law’ in heaven or earth, that man must needs obey!

Grasp what you can, and ALL you can; and grasp it while you—may.

Let not the Jew-born Christ ideal unnerve you in the fight.

You have no ‘rights’ except alone the rights you win by might.

There is no Justice, Right nor Wrong; no Truth, no Good, no Evil.

There is no ‘Man’s Immortal Soul,’ no fiery fearsome—Devil.

There is no ‘ Heaven of Glory:’ No!—no ‘Hell where sinners roast.’

There is no ‘God the Father,’ No!—no Son, no ‘Holy Ghost.’

The world is no Nirvana, where joy for ever flows.

It is a gruesome butcher’s shop, where dead ‘lambs’ hang in rows.

Death endeth all for every man —for every ‘son of thunder;’ then be a lion (not a ‘ lamb’), and don’t be trampled under.

Elsewhere this gospel says;—

An Evil Spirit hath inoculated our race with the hideous gospel of submissiveness, of degeneracy;—

‘Resist not evil,’ it whines, and ‘If a man smite thee on one cheek, turn to him the other also.’

But I say unto you;—‘If a man smite you on one cheek, smash HIM on the other.’

And again;—

Hate for hate and ruth for ruth,

Eye for eye and tooth for tooth;

Scorn for scorn and smile for smile,

Love for love and guile for guile;

War for war and woe for woe,

Blood for blood and blow for blow.

All this may seem a wild exaggeration. But, to us, it is only a frank confession of the essential aims of such men as Cecil Rhodes and his abettors; and it only gives full expression to the dominant temper of the hour.