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Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Scottish poet considered the major poetic voice of his nation
All religions are auld wives' fables, but an honest man has nothing to fear, either in this world or the world to come.
-- Robert Burns, quoted by Robert Green Ingersoll in "Why I Am an Agnostic"
On Earth, Discord! A gloomy Heaven above, opening her jealous gates to the nineteen thousandth part of the tithe of mankind! And below, an inescapable & inexorable Hell, expanding its leviathan jaws for the vast residue of Mortals !!!
-- Robert Burns, letter to Alexander Cunningham, 10th September 1792 (see context in larger segment below)
But of all Nonsense, Religious Nonsense is the most nonsensical; so enough, & more than enough of it -- Only, by the bye, will you, or can you tell me, my dear Cunningham, why a religioso turn of mind has always a tendency to narrow and illiberalise the heart?
-- Robert Burns, letter to Alexander Cunningham, 10th September 1792 (see context in larger segment below)
Their sighin', cantin', grace-proud faces,
Their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.
-- Robert Burns, to the Rev John M'Math
The social, friendly, honest man,
Whate'er he be,
'Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan,
And none but he!
-- Robert Burns, Epistle to John Lapraik, no. 2
'But what shall I write to you? "The Voice said, Cry: & I said, What shall I cry?" O thou Spirit! Whatever thou art, or wherever thou makest thyself visible. Be thou a Bogle by the eerie side of an auld thorn, in the dreary glen through which the herd-callan maun bicker in his gloamin route frae the fauld! Be thou a Brownie set, at dead of night, to thy task by the blazing ingle, or in the solitary barn, where the repercussions of they iron flail half affright thyself, as thou performest the work of twenty of the sons of men ere the cockcrowing summon thee to thy ample cog of substantial brose! Be thou a Kelpie, haunting the ford or ferry in the starless night, mixing thy laughing yell with the howling of the storm & the roaring of the flood, as thou viewest the perils & miseries of Man on the foundering horse, or in the tumbling boat! Or, lastly, be thou a Ghost, paying thy nocturnal visits to the hoary ruins of decayed Grandeur; or performing thy mystic rites in the shadow of the time worn Church, while the Moon looks, without a cloud, on the silent, ghastly dwellings of the dead around thee; or, taking thy stand by the bed side of the Villain, or the Murderer, pourtraying on his dreaming fancy, pictures, dreadful as the horrors of unveiled Hell, & terrible as the wrath of incensed Deity!!! Come, thou Spirit, but not in these horrid forms; come with the milder gentle, easy inspirations which thou breathest round the wig of a prating Advocate, or the tete of a tea-bibing Gossip, while their tongues run at the light-horse gallop of clishmaclaiver for ever & ever -- come, & assist a poor devil who is quite jaded in the attempt to share half an idea among half a hundred words; to fill up four quarto pages, while he has not got one single sentence of recollection, information, or remark, worth putting pen to paper for.
'I feel, I feel the presence of Supernatural assistance! Circled in the embrace of my elbow chair, my breast labors like the bloated Sybil on her three-footed stool, & like her too, labors with Nonsense. Nonsense, auspicious name!!! Tutor, Friend & Finger-post in the mystic mazes of Law; the cadaverous paths of Physic; & particularly in the sightless soarings of School Divinity, who, leaving Common Sense confounded at his strength of pinion, Reason delirious with eyeing his giddy flight & Truth creeping back into the bottom of her well, cursing the hour that ever she offered her scorned alliance to the wizard Power of Theologic Vision -- raves abroad on all the winds, "On Earth, Discord! A gloomy Heaven above, opening her jealous gates to the nineteen thousandth part of the tithe of mankind! And below, an inescapable & inexorable Hell, expanding its leviathan jaws for the vast residue of Mortals !!!" O doctrine comfortable & healing to the weary wounded soul of man! Ye sons & daughters of affliction, ye pauvers Miserables, to whom day brings no pleasure & night yields no rest, be comforted! "'Tis but one to nineteen hundred thousand, that your situation will mend in this world; so alas the Experience of the Poor & the Needy too truly affirms; & 'tis nineteen hundred thousand to one by the dogmas of Theology, that you will be damned eternally in the World to come!"
'But of all Nonsense, Religious Nonsense is the most nonsensical; so enough, & more than enough of it -- Only, by the bye, will you, or can you tell me, my dear Cunningham, why a religioso turn of mind has always a tendency to narrow and illiberalise the heart? They are orderly; they may be just; nay, I have known them merciful: but still your children of Sanctity move among their fellow creatures with a nostril snuffing putrescence, & a foot spurning filth, in short, with that conceited dignity which your titled Douglasses, Hamiltons, Gordons or any other of your Scots Lordlings of seven centuries standing, display when they accidentally mix among the many-aproned Sons of Mechanical life. I remember in my Plough-boy days, I could conceive it possible that a noble lord could be a Fool, or that a Godly man could be a Knave. How ignorant are Plough-boys! Nay, I have since discovered that a godly woman may be a -- ! But hold -- here's t'ye again -- this Rum is damn'd generous Antigua, so a very unfit menstruum for scandal.'
-- Robert Burns, letter to Alexander Cunningham, 10th September 1792

Ingersoll: Frail, but Intensely Human
"Burns had his faults, his frailties. He was intensely human. Still, I would rather appear at the "Judgment Seat" drunk, and be able to say that I was the author of "A man's a man for 'a that," than to be perfectly sober and admit that I had lived and died a Scotch Presbyterian."
-- Robert Green Ingersoll, in "Why I Am an Agnostic" |