Love, Life Work | Page 2

is right and wrong. But
with the assurance that their advice is backed up by Deity, followed
with an offer of reward if we believe it, and a threat of dire punishment
if we do not, the Self-appointed Superior Class has driven men
wheresoever it willed. The evolution of formal religions is not a

complex process, and the fact that they embody these two unmixable
things, dogma and morality, is a very plain and simple truth, easily seen,
undisputed by all reasonable men. And be it said that the morality of
most religions is good. Love, truth, charity, justice and gentleness are
taught in them all. But, like a rule in Greek grammar, there are many
exceptions. And so in the morality of religions there are exceptional
instances that constantly arise where love, truth, charity, gentleness and
justice are waived on suggestion of the Superior Class, that good may
follow. Were it not for these exceptions there would be no wars
between Christian nations.
The question of how to express your life will probably never down, for
the reason that men vary in temperament and inclination. Some men
have no capacity for certain sins of the flesh; others there be, who,
having lost their inclination for sensuality through too much indulgence,
turn ascetics. Yet all sermons have but one theme: how shall life be
expressed? Between asceticism and indulgence men and races swing.
Asceticism in our day finds an interesting manifestation in the
Trappists, who live on a mountain top, nearly inaccessible, and deprive
themselves of almost every vestige of bodily comfort, going without
food for days, wearing uncomfortable garments, suffering severe cold;
and should one of this community look upon the face of a woman he
would think he was in instant danger of damnation. So here we find the
extreme instance of men repressing the faculties of the body in order
that the spirit may find ample time and opportunity for exercise.
Somewhere between this extreme repression of the monk and the
license of the sensualist lies the truth. But just where is the great
question; and the desire of one person, who thinks he has discovered
the norm, to compel all other men to stop there, has led to war and
strife untold. All law centers around this point--what shall men be
allowed to do? And so we find statutes to punish "strolling play actors,"
"players on fiddles," "disturbers of the public conscience," "persons
who dance wantonly," "blasphemers," and in England there were, in the
year 1800, thirty-seven offenses that were legally punishable by death.
What expression is right and what is not, is simply a matter of opinion.
One religious denomination that now exists does not allow singing;
instrumental music has been to some a rock of offense, exciting the
spirit through the sense of hearing, to improper thoughts--"through the

lascivious pleasing of the lute"; others think dancing wicked, while a
few allow pipe-organ music, but draw the line at the violin; while still
others use a whole orchestra in their religious service. Some there be
who regard pictures as implements of idolatry; while the Hook-and-Eye
Baptists look upon buttons as immoral.
Strange evolutions are often witnessed within the life of one individual.
For instance, Leo Tolstoy, a great and good man, at one time a
sensualist, has now turned ascetic; a common evolution in the lives of
the saints. But excellent as this man is, there is yet a grave imperfection
in his cosmos which to a degree vitiates the truth he desires to teach: he
leaves the element of beauty out of his formula. Not caring for harmony
as set forth in color, form and sweet sounds, he is quite willing to deny
all others these things which minister to their well-being. There is in
most souls a hunger for beauty, just as there is physical hunger. Beauty
speaks to their spirits through the senses; but Tolstoy would have your
house barren to the verge of hardship. My veneration for Count Tolstoy
is profound, yet I mention him here to show the grave danger that lies
in allowing any man, even one of the wisest of men, to dictate to us
what is best. We ourselves are the better judges. Most of the frightful
cruelties inflicted on men during the past have arisen simply out of a
difference of opinion that arose through a difference in temperament.
The question is as alive to-day as it was two thousand years ago--what
expression is best? That is, what shall we do to be saved? And concrete
absurdity consists in saying that we must all do the same thing.
Whether the race will ever grow to a point where men will be willing to
leave the matter of life-expression to the individual is a question; but
the millennium will