Sunday, 15 June 2014


(To the Editor at the Queensland Times)
SIR.-A surpliced Yankee has been treating us to his personal, religious, and questionable inconsequence. Old Romans gave their greatness—thanks to impossible gods and their decay—curse to Christianity. Comets were likewisely charged with battles and plagues, and the moon, in the name of lunacy, with much of human madness. A fellow-traveller of mine traced the Irish potato blights to railway engine smoke; and now a priest, changing the ignorance of his ways, while scooping in our golden opinions, issues on us samples, causeative and deductive, of deformed logic and withering sentiments. Such brawls of evangelists enabled the priests of wealth to keep defamed, disorganised, and disfranchised the sons of toil. They stopped, like furious exterminating Josuahs, the sun of fair play in its course. For human ruins are the work of darkness captained by social and sectarian shams.
 His reverence has the folly to recommend Protestantism by the gilty splendours of its mammonism. Per Dalyism, Turkism was godism, for its crescent eclipsed the Cross. This argument proves Protestant swagger to be schooled by positive ignorance, comparative stupidity, and superlative conceit. I once nearly lost my imperturbable good humour by the violent assurance of two austere Scotch friends that Italy was overflowing with Protestants. Why, all England's might couldn't stuff her own Ireland with them. The mammon argument is religiously and literally unhappy. If Spain, Italy, and Portugal are going to the dogs, where are the English peerage and other persons in high places going to? Misrule by pashas, dons, and land-swells, like that in Turkey, Ireland, and Australia now, could desolate Paradise. Hence, Heaven won't admit swell coves, and this because it distinguishes between the godlike creator of human support and the stealers of it. A Nemesis is on your brogue's trail, Father O Daly.
 Your yarns about self, a convert, and a bishop, if true, tell common-sense people that none of you had common sense—a not impossible probability. His reverence slowly awoke from Catholic delusions into confusions worse confounded. Petty ideas make worshipful impressions on dwarfed intellects, made such too often from babyhood, like Chinese ladies' feet. Some such little Protestant astonishments have been wondering why his reverence hadn't captivated me into Protestant admirations. To such I say: The ex-Father knows little of Catholic theology, moral or dogmatic, and was therefore apparently a priestly failure, or else, which is worse, he seems to my mind to distort his knowledge in matters of doubt, Heaven, and the Bible. From the altar and the States, he ought to have something really fresh, smart, ennobling, or Yankee-tall to tell us. I compliment him on his total abstinence from the usual filth pots. There is, therefore, a substratam of truth and honour supporting him, and hence with an heroic pang we past him as a gift to the cannons of opposing forts.
In his doles of toluances he seems a stranger to the up and down doings of all persuasions, and not to have heard of test oaths, the dates of emancipations, nor to forecast the revisings of the National Anthem, should the Queen turn Baptist or Borthist, We now enjoy a pretty profound religious truce, thanks, however, and only to the many drawn battles of religious intollerances which gave freethought time and opportunity to become policemen of our social peace. Secularism henceforth, and not fogy Orangeism, will do the storm scatter to the dreaded Irish Armada.
 In evermore we want no religious rabies, ascendancies or damning, nor their social counterparts, Christ summed up His whole law and the prophets in the love of God and the neighbour. In this sum total he gave to our everlasting disesteem the dainty sacred priest and levite who passed their suffering brother by, and gave to our everlasting admiration and like doing the wrong-religioned Samaritan who acted the friend in need. He put poor Lazares on Heaven's sofa, and sank millionaire Dives in sheol. If Churches pass by the unemployed, under-paid, over-worked, and harassed human masses, and leave it to the so called agitator to say the kind have inspiring word to outraged labour, then the Churches are not made for man, nor of God, and must divorce from our reverence. While socially and similarly, the shrewd Jacobs that seize upon labours weaknesses to fleece it, whose huge grabbing cut off from so many the means of decent living, and luxuriate while the masses writhe in want, they are no better than the Churches that sweat at closing Heaven and opening hell to fellow Christians. Now, then, Messrs. Daly and Co., drop the Orange alarm twang and, by presence and persuasion, paternise us. Mark me, ye sacred and secular sirs : Despots begat us State Churches, these libertinism and the stake, these Reformation and French Revolution, these free-thought and social questions, these popular education and influence, and these now rock the rights of every man to a fair share of labour, leisure, education, and suffrage. Your text be the people—not my pulpit, or any pilfered privileges.
Yours, &c,

Queensland Times 29 October 1891, 

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