The Old Bottle
W
.
CHAT
is religion ?
In
its
primitive
form
,
meta
tarsals
;
in
its
ultimate
,
.
ancestors
would
walk
through
the
lightning
and
thunder
of
the
uncivilized
day
,
with
a
string
of
charmed
knuckle
-
bones
slung
round
their
throats
;
whilst
we
in
our turn
walk
through
the drizzle and
fog
of
the present decivilized
night
,
with
a
rosary
of
ideals twined
round
our
minds
:
one
worshipped
a
bogey
,
the other
a
bogus
.
O!
sancta simplicitas
:
homo
indeed
is
sapiens
!
Have
we
progressed
?
Not
one
whit
.
Worship
is
at
all
times and everywhere
one
and the same
,
an insult
to
the offerer and the receiver
alike
;
sacrifice
,
the
egotism
of
usurers
;
prayer
,
the
misdirected energy
of
idiots
;
ceremony but
an
excuse
for
vice
;
and
dogma
but
a
legitimized
imposition
.
Such
is
religion
!
Why
,
then
,
has man ever sought
this
Moloch
of
his nights
,
shedding o'er
it
his own blood
,
and drench
ing
it
with that
of
others
,
if
it
prove but
an
incubus
of
sorrow
and despair
?
Firstly
,
because
most
men
are
fools
;
secondly
,
because
those who
are
not
are
knaves
.
I
take
no
heed
of
trickery played
By cunning mad Elijah's skill
,
When the great test
of
strength was made
On Carmel's melancholy hill
,
And on the altar stone
the liar
Cried
“
Water
,"
and poured forth Greek fire
!'
1
Ahab
,
vol
.
ii,
p
.
123
.