Chapter XVII: Ydgrun and the Ydgrunites
In spite of all the to-do they make about their idols, and the
temples they
build, and the priests and priestesses whom they
support, I could never think that their professed religion was more
than skin-deep; but they had another which they carried with them
into all their actions; and although no one from the outside of
things would suspect it to have any existence at all, it was in
reality their great guide, the mariner's
compass of their lives; so
that there were very few things which they ever either did, or
refrained from doing, without reference to its precepts.
Now I suspected that their professed faith had no great hold upon
them--firstly, because I often heard the priests complain of the
prevailing indifference, and they would hardly have done so without
reason; secondly, because of the show which was made, for there was
none of this about the worship of the goddess Ydgrun, in whom they
really did believe; thirdly, because though the priests were
constantly abusing Ydgrun as being the great enemy of the gods, it
was well known that she had no more devoted worshippers in the
whole country than these very persons, who were often priests of
Ydgrun rather than of their own deities. Neither am I by any means
sure that these were not the best of the priests.
Ydgrun certainly occupied a very anomalous position; she was held
to be both omnipresent and omnipotent, but she was not an elevated
conception, and was sometimes both cruel and absurd. Even her most
devoted worshippers were a little ashamed of her, and served her
more with heart and in deed than with their tongues. Theirs was no
lip service; on the contrary, even when worshipping her most
devoutly, they would often deny her. Take her all in all, however,
she was a beneficent and useful deity, who did not care how much
she was denied so long as she was obeyed and feared, and who kept
hundreds of thousands in those paths which make life tolerably
happy, who would never have been kept there otherwise, and over
whom a higher and more spiritual ideal would have had no power.
I greatly doubt whether the Erewhonians are yet prepared for any
better religion, and though (considering my gradually strengthened
conviction that they were the representatives of the lost tribes of
Israel) I would have set about converting them at all hazards had I
seen the remotest prospect of success, I could hardly contemplate
the displacement of Ydgrun as the great central object of their
regard without admitting that it would be attended with frightful
consequences; in fact were I a mere philosopher, I should say that
the gradual raising of the popular conception of Ydgrun would be
the greatest spiritual boon which could be conferred upon them, and
that nothing could effect this except example. I generally found
that those who complained most loudly that Ydgrun was not high
enough for them had hardly as yet come up to the Ydgrun standard,
and I often met with a class of men whom I called to myself "high
Ydgrunites" (the rest being Ydgrunites, and low Ydgrunites), who,
in the matter of human conduct and the affairs of life, appeared to
me to have got about as far as it is in the right nature of man to
go.
They were gentlemen in the full sense of the word; and what has one
not said in saying this? They seldom spoke of Ydgrun, or even
alluded to her, but would never run counter to her dictates without
ample reason for doing so: in such cases they would override her
with due self-reliance, and the goddess seldom punished them; for
they are brave, and Ydgrun is not. They had most of them a
smattering of the hypothetical language, and some few more than
this, but only a few. I do not think that this language has had
much hand in making them what they are; but rather that the fact of
their being generally possessed of its rudiments was one great
reason for the reverence paid to the hypothetical language itself.
Being inured from youth to exercises and athletics of all sorts,
and living fearlessly under the eye of their peers, among whom
there exists a high standard of courage, generosity, honour, and
every good and manly quality--what wonder that they should have
become, so to speak, a law unto themselves; and, while taking an
elevated view of the goddess Ydgrun, they should have gradually
lost all faith in the recognised deities of the country? These
they do not openly disregard, for conformity until absolutely
intolerable is a law of Ydgrun, yet they have no real belief in the
objective existence of beings which so readily explain themselves
as abstractions, and whose personality demands a quasi-materialism
which it baffles the imagination to realise. They keep their
opinions, however, greatly to themselves, inasmuch as most of their
countrymen feel strongly about the gods, and they hold it wrong to
give pain, unless for some greater good than seems likely to arise
from their plain speaking.
On the other hand, surely those whose own minds are clear about any
given matter (even though it be only that there is little
certainty) should go so far towards imparting that clearness to
others, as to say openly what they think and why they think it,
whenever they can properly do so; for they may be sure that they
owe their own clearness almost entirely to the fact that others
have done this by them: after all, they may be mistaken, and if
so, it is for their own and the general well-being that they should
let their error be seen as distinctly as possible, so that it may
be more easily refuted. I own, therefore, that on this one point I
disapproved of the practice even of the highest Ydgrunites, and
objected to it all the more because I knew that I should find my
own future task more easy if the high Ydgrunites had already
undermined the belief which is supposed to prevail at present.
In other respects they were more like the best class of Englishmen
than any whom I have seen in other countries. I should have liked
to have persuaded half-a-dozen of them to come over to England and
go upon the stage, for they had most of them a keen sense of humour
and a taste for acting: they would be of great use to us. The
example of a real gentleman is, if I may say so without profanity,
the best of all gospels; such a man upon the stage becomes a potent
humanising influence, an Ideal which all may look upon for a
shilling.
I always liked and admired these men, and although I could not help
deeply regretting their certain ultimate perdition (for they had no
sense of a hereafter, and their only religion was that of self-
respect and consideration for other people), I never dared to take
so great a liberty with them as to attempt to put them in
possession of my own religious convictions, in spite of my knowing
that they were the only ones which could make them really good and
happy, either here or hereafter. I did try sometimes, being
impelled to do so by a strong sense of duty, and by my deep regret
that so much that was admirable should be doomed to ages if not
eternity of torture; but the words stuck in my throat as soon as I
began.
Whether a professional missionary might have a better chance I know
not; such persons must doubtless know more about the science of
conversion: for myself, I could only be thankful that I was in the
right path, and was obliged to let others take their chance as yet.
If the plan fails by which I propose to convert them myself, I
would gladly contribute my mite towards the sending two or three
trained missionaries, who have been known as successful converters
of Jews and Mahometans; but such have seldom much to glory in the
flesh, and when I think of the high Ydgrunites, and of the figure
which a missionary would probably cut among them, I cannot feel
sanguine that much good would be arrived at. Still the attempt is
worth making, and the worst danger to the missionaries themselves
would be that of being sent to the hospital where Chowbok would
have been sent had he come with me into Erewhon.
Taking then their religious opinions as a whole, I must own that
the Erewhonians are superstitious, on account of the views which
they hold of their professed gods, and their entirely anomalous and
inexplicable worship of Ydgrun, a worship at once the most
powerful, yet most devoid of formalism, that I ever met with; but
in practice things worked better than might have been expected, and
the conflicting claims of Ydgrun and the gods were arranged by
unwritten compromises (for the most part in Ydgrun's favour), which
in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred were very well understood.
I could not conceive why they should not openly acknowledge high
Ydgrunism, and discard the objective personality of hope, justice,
&c.; but whenever I so much as hinted at this, I found that I was
on dangerous ground. They would never have it; returning
constantly to the assertion that ages ago the divinities were
frequently seen, and that the moment their personality was
disbelieved in, men would leave off practising even those ordinary
virtues which the common experience of mankind has agreed on as
being the greatest secret of happiness. "Who ever heard," they
asked, indignantly, "of such things as kindly training, a good
example, and an enlightened regard to one's own welfare, being able
to keep men straight?" In my hurry, forgetting things which I
ought to have remembered, I answered that if a person could not be
kept straight by these things, there was nothing that could
straighten him, and that if he were not ruled by the love and fear
of men whom he had seen, neither would he be so by that of the gods
whom he had not seen.
At one time indeed I came upon a small but growing sect who
believed, after a fashion, in the immortality of the soul and the
resurrection from the dead; they taught that those who had been
born with feeble and diseased bodies and had passed their lives in
ailing, would be tortured eternally hereafter; but that those who
had been born strong and healthy and handsome would be rewarded for
ever and ever. Of moral qualities or conduct they made no mention.
Bad as this was, it was a step in advance, inasmuch as they did
hold out a future state of some sort, and I was shocked to find
that for the most part they met with opposition, on the score that
their doctrine was based upon no sort of foundation, also that it
was immoral in its tendency, and not to be desired by any
reasonable beings.
When I asked how it could be immoral, I was answered, that if
firmly held, it would lead people to cheapen this present life,
making it appear to be an affair of only secondary importance; that
it would thus distract men's minds from the perfecting of this
world's economy, and was an impatient cutting, so to speak, of the
Gordian knot of life's problems, whereby some people might gain
present satisfaction to themselves at the cost of infinite damage
to others; that the doctrine tended to encourage the poor in their
improvidence, and in a debasing acquiescence in ills which they
might well remedy; that the rewards were illusory and the result,
after all, of luck, whose empire should be bounded by the grave;
that its terrors were enervating and unjust; and that even the most
blessed rising would be but the disturbing of a still more blessed
slumber.
To all which I could only say that the thing had been actually
known to happen, and that there were several well-authenticated
instances of people having died and come to life again--instances
which no man in his senses could doubt.
"If this be so," said my opponent, "we must bear it as best we
may."
I then translated for him, as well as I could, the noble speech of
Hamlet in which he says that it is the fear lest worse evils may
befall us after death which alone prevents us from rushing into
death's arms.
"Nonsense," he answered, "no man was ever yet stopped from cutting
his throat by any such fears as your poet ascribes to him--and your
poet probably knew this perfectly well. If a man cuts his throat
he is at bay, and thinks of nothing but escape, no matter whither,
provided he can shuffle off his present. No. Men are kept at
their posts, not by the fear that if they quit them they may quit a
frying-pan for a fire, but by the hope that if they hold on, the
fire may burn less fiercely. 'The respect,' to quote your poet,
'that makes calamity of so long a life,' is the consideration that
though calamity may live long, the sufferer may live longer still."
On this, seeing that there was little probability of our coming to
an agreement, I let the argument drop, and my opponent presently
left me with as much disapprobation as he could show without being
overtly rude.
Erewhon : Chapter XVIII - Birth Formulae
Erewhon