Cambria Will Not Yield

Friday, December 26, 2008

The White Cross

Woe to the clansman who shall view
This symbol of sepulchral yew,
Forgetful that its branches grew
Where weep the heavens their holiest dew
On Alpine’s dwelling low.
The hope and expectation that the end of the historical process will have a happy ending is a uniquely Christian concept. It is in complete contrast to the cyclic world view of classical paganism. The post-Christian rationalist (PCR) who has jettisoned his belief in Jesus Christ as true God and true Man still holds to a view of history that could only come from a Christian culture. However, the post-Christian rationalist’s faith in progress and the future is very different from the hope and expectation of a European Christian. The Christian hopes for the second coming of Christ in which individual persons will be saved or damned. The PCR white hopes for the perfection of mankind on this earth and the earthly damnation of all those who would impede mankind’s progress toward a secular utopia.

The PCR white man has looked at the Christian faith and declared it null and void. And the Christian concedes that the Christian faith is beyond the purely rational. But is the liberal’s faith in the perfection of mankind on this earth a rational belief? No, it is not. The consistent rationalist is Dostoyevsky’s Stavrogin, who hangs himself, fully rational to the end. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on what you think of liberals, most PCR whites do not follow their rationalist faith to its logical conclusion. They settle for a rationalist, fantasy faith in the progress of mankind, always moving onward. Toward what? “Toward the perfection of mankind,” the liberals tell us.

When Christian eschatology becomes divorced from faith in Christ, the original inspiration for Christian eschatology, there is no limit to the evils that can spring from such a secularized process. It’s not just communism that owes its inspiration to a secularized, historical schema. The democracy-worshipping, one-world, one-race liberals of the Western world also are inspired by the eschatology of a faith they have abandoned.

And it is important that European Christians see that the worship of the black man is part of the new Christ-less eschatology of the modern post-Christians. If mankind is to progress in the aggregate, everything that is personal and individual must be eradicated. In the liberal utopia, mankind has a soul but individuals do not. And what is more personal, more individual, than a man’s ties to his own kith and kin? The destruction of the racial ties that bind human beings together is an essential part of the depersonalizing process of PCR whites. They must depersonalize every aspect of the white man’s existence in order to form an impersonal, homogenized, multiracial utopia.

The worship of the soulless barbarian races is an essential part of the PCR’s faith, because the barbarians are the shock troops for the new religion. Obama was not elected President because liberals were drawn to his personality, he was elected because of what he represented: the soulless, depersonalized face of the new world order.

In Shakespeare’s play Henry IV Part II, the character Morton informs the Lord Northumberland that a second rebellion against the King has a better chance of success than the first because it has the support of a Bishop, who “turns insurrection to religion.” This is what we should never forget about the PCR whites. They have turned insurrection against Christ into a religion, using the same eschatology and symbols of Christianity but for a wholly different and evil purpose.

The new Christ-less Christianity has been around long enough to have become the unspoken, instinctive faith of the liberal. Young liberals, who don’t even know the meaning of the word eschatology, act according to the Christ-less eschatology of their satanic progenitors, such as Comte, Hegel, and Marx. Comte more than Marx or Hegel has been the model for the modern liberal. Comte thought the Catholic Church’s organization and hopeful message of a happy ending to the historical process was something that was worthy of emulation. (He didn’t like the Protestant version of Christianity because of its “evangelical anarchy.”) But what he liked about Catholicism was its “system,” not its “Christianity.” Comte’s new faith is the faith of the modern liberal. The liberal believes in an organized social and political structure that promises present comfort and future earthly bliss for those who purge themselves of the unruly Christian aspects of Christianity. Although there are elements of the new faith that some churchmen are not fond of, they have never sought to be the dust in the gears of the new, mechanized church of Christ-without-Christ. They have accepted the basic secular premise of liberalism (“There is no God”) while remaining uneasy about some of its manifestations such as legalized abortion and legalized sodomy. But ultimately the churchmen are moving with the liberals to a secular Zion.

There is only one force on earth capable of defeating liberal zealots fueled with the enthusiasm of the ancient crusaders, without the faith of the ancient crusaders. That force is the man of Europe, the Christ-centered man. The pre-Christian Viking hero of the new age right-wingers is not the man to “set things right.” The pagan’s sword is sheathed when the pagan’s appetite for rapine and plunder is sated. The Christian hero’s sword is never sheathed until he has “built Jerusalem, In England’s green and pleasant land.”

My own views on the Scottish Jacobites are the same as Sir Walter Scott’s views. I admire their courage and their loyalty to their Chieftain, but ultimately it would not have been good for Britain to have had another Stuart monarch. The Stuarts did not have a gift for governing. But the Scottish cavaliers did leave the European with something of lasting value; they are a sterling example of fidelity. And now that the ranks of faithful Europeans have dwindled to numbers resembling a clan rather than a nation, we should support our clan with the same ferocious loyalty and courage with which the Scottish cavaliers supported their clan.

The Southern cavaliers of America took the Scottish Highlanders’ rallying symbol of the burning cross and made it their symbol. But it became more than just a rallying sign for one group of Scottish clansmen, it became a call for all faithful white men to stand and fight for the faith and the race. It was the Frenchmen in Haiti that first felt the brunt of the white rationalist and barbarian hatred of the white. They perished to the last man, woman, and child. Then the Southern men faced the hatred of the same satanic coalition of PCR whites and black barbarians. They prevailed against that coalition because they rallied to the cross of fire.

It is striking that no matter what European nation you look at, the problems are the same. White-hating white rationalists are uniting with the barbarians to destroy white European civilization. (Although it is probably more accurate to say the PCR whites and the barbarians are uniting to destroy the remaining Europeans. They have already destroyed European civilization.) Which indicates to me that no matter how far flung he is, by land or sea, the white European who still adheres to the faith of old Europe is a member of a clan. And if he is faithful to that clan, he will prevail over the forces of ruin and death. But he will not prevail if he leaves the European clan to become a Viking warrior, like the new age right-wingers, or to become a halfway-house Christian, like the Bob Jones University men. It must be all or nothing. The European must respond to the fiery cross if Europeans and Europe’s faith are to survive. The great Swedish playwright August Strindberg, who went through his own personal battle with the demon of rationalism, shows us the way. He had the words, “O Cross, Be Greeted, Our Only Hope” inscribed on his tombstone. The White man’s cross is his racial heritage. The PCR white, having abandoned that cross, insists that every white man do likewise. And our answer to that demand is, “Never.”

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Friday, December 19, 2008

One Man’s Sentiments

“A great many of those who ‘debunk’ traditional or (as they would say) ‘sentimental’ values have in the background values of their own which they believe to be immune from the debunking process.” – C. S. Lewis in The Abolition of Man

I majored in literature when in college because I liked literature. That of course was a very foolish thing to do. If you enjoy literature, the worst thing you can do is to make it your course of study at a university. The academics hate the antique authors of Europe and will do everything in their power to persuade the young student to give up reading such childish, sentimental authors as Walter Scott and Thomas Hughes and start reading the really ‘serious’ authors like Flaubert, Joyce, and Proust.

But what one very quickly notices about the liberals is that while they are making fun of Ivanhoe’s chivalry and Rowena’s purity, they are having wine and cheese parties for avant- garde poets who write page after page of drivel about their existential angst and their bathroom habits. The point being that the liberals who deride my sentiments about old Europe get all sentimental and gooey about some contemporary, anti-white white poet or a Third World savage.

The liberals are currently getting bedecked and begowned for the coronation ceremony of a black Mau Mau. They will weep great tears of joy and recommend that all those who do not share in the joy of Obama’s coronation be cast into outer darkness. But it is they who have cast themselves into outer darkness. I’ll stay with the God of Tiny Tim, the God who made the blind see and the lame walk.

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Obama’s Black Night

It was the night before the coronation
And throughout every liberal house,
Every white-hating white was excited and waiting,
Lest he be called a racist louse.
The Obama posters were hung by the widescreen TV with care,
In the hopes that the Obama
Would soon appear there.

Two quality, white, liberal children rested in their beds,
While visions of the black messiah
Whirled in their heads:
Two freeze-dried hippies called ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’
Took long drags on the weed,
And felt quite glad;
It seemed like they had only dozed for the length of a slight faint,
When there came upon the widescreen TV a brown man,
With a face like a saint.
Away to the window Mom and Dad flew like the wind,
“He is here!” they both yelled,
(Both were quite stoned), “Now our lives can begin,”
And being stoned can make one feel gloom,
But the sight of Obama’s smile
Cheered up the whole room.

As his coronation speech ended,
Obama said with a jeer,
“The white God is dead,
It is Satan’s New Year.
This election has shown me you prefer me in His stead,
So settle yourselves to a long, hellish night.”
The liberals all shouted with glee,
As Obama faded from sight,
“The Light was a fraud,
We prefer Obama’s black night!”

Then those words appeared on the screen,
Nobody knew where they came from,
No human agency could be seen:



Sunday, December 14, 2008

The City of David is the City of Europe

It is certainly helpful, if one is a Christian and therefore an historian, to have some kind of dating system or chronology to distinguish one period from another. One can say to a fellow Christian, “I dislike the 18th century rationalists,” and the fellow Christian will know what you are talking about. He will know that you are talking about a certain group of thinkers that spewed out nonsense between 1700 and 1800.

But historical dates can be misleading rather than helpful when they become magic symbols with a quasi-mystical significance, as the year 2000 became for many infidels and pseudo-Christians. In a normal reading of history, the event determines the significance of the date, not the reverse; that is, the date does not determine the meaning of the event.

I think it is significant that the leaders of the Christian world chose to end the century in which wizardry replaced Christianity, with a celebration of wizardry rather than Christianity. The churchmen paid homage to an age. I wish they had hurled their defiant ‘no’ to the century, but I was not asked for an opinion. Why do I say the churchmen have ceded Christianity’s place on the royal throne to wizardry? I say this because the Christian churches have caved into the scientistic view of the world. And the scientistic view of the world is akin to the wizard’s view of the world. The wizard and the churchmen seek to harness God’s power through a technique rather than by loving God and seeking Him through the quest. In the traditional way to God, the way of the West, the hero prevails because he has “that within which passeth show.” He helps the blind beggar; he kills the ogre that is persecuting the villagers; he responds to God’s grace in an integral way, the human way, the way of the Cross.

Contrast the old hero’s methods with those of the modern churchmen. In their view we can skip the quest. If we tap into the power of the universe by accepting a view of evolving mankind and the Church, we can become co-equals with God – we can be “masters of the universe” with greater strength and power than even a WWF wrestler. But haven’t we, if we accept the vision of the new churchmen, already said in our hearts, “There is no God”? Yes, we have. When one seeks God in the evolutionary process, one has left the Christian God behind. And outside of Christ there is no God. God is a personal God, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection, or He is not God at all. The promise of harnessing the power of blind, dumb nature may excite modern man, but it should send cold chills down the spine of any Christian with even a remnant of faith left in his soul.

And please, let us not pretend the modern emperors of the Christian half-way houses are clothed. They still use traditional phrases, but their meaning when using them is something quite different from that of the saints of old. On every substantive issue, the modern clergy have departed form Christianity. And they justify each departure with the explanation, “We have evolved more.” Capital punishment is no longer necessary because we now have evolved beyond that point; Christian states are no longer necessary because we have evolved beyond the need to look on the Christian faith as the one true Faith that must be protected; borders in the Church and in nations are no longer necessary because the concept of white folk is racist; and feminism must be supported because it is better that millions of babies be aborted than one feminist should think the modern churches are not evolving institution that deplore patriarchy.

I recently, while shopping at a local grocery store, saw an all too familiar sign of the times. In front of me was a grotesquely fat white girl with four black and white children. She paid her bill with food stamps and labored her way out to her vehicle, a very expensive, new model van.

Now my white pagan neighbor, who regularly worships black athletes on T.V. and proudly declares his lack of any racist tendencies, would condemn the fat, white girl. He would condemn her for being on food stamps and driving an expensive van, which is clearly in violation of the food stamp program. And he would be mad at the government that allowed her to get away with it. But he would not be bothered about the mixed blood offspring.

My anger was directly related to the mixed blood concubinage. If I had seen a married white couple with four white children using food stamps, I would have been pleased to see that my government was actually doing something worthwhile, supporting white nuclear families, with our tax dollars. But of course, that is just a fantasy. Neither our local, state, or federal governments will ever again do anything to support white families.

When faith in Jesus Christ dies, the charitable impulses that went with that faith become demonic urges. Genuinely Christian welfare programs used to link the life sustaining necessities of food and shelter with moral regeneration. Our souls inhabit bodies so the body must be served, but it is ultimately the soul that we must claim for Christ; this was the motto of those old Salvation Army type churches.

‘Tis not so today. Since there is no sin, except the sin of white racism, there is no need for redemption in Christ. You can buy redemption on the cheap by simply renouncing, if you happen to be white, your whiteness. (If you are not white, then you are already a god and you have no need to renounce anything.) And having once renounced whiteness, you can become part of Satan’s kingdom -- after all, the U. S. Government is a very important limb of Satan – and start receiving the benefits of membership.

The Christmas season is a very depressing time of year for me. And that is not because of the “blatant materialism” of the stores such as Wal-Mart. Outright paganism of the Wal-Mart variety is not that depressing. It is the Christian clergy who have replaced faith in Christ with faith in social progress, which always translates to the worship of the black savage, that depress me. Christmas is a family and church affair. The family part I still have, but as regards the church, I cannot celebrate the birth of the God-man with a group of individuals who spend the other 364 days of the year asking – no, demanding – that I renounce my faith in a flesh-and-blood Messiah born in the city of David to the virgin Mary, in favor of a faith in a god of shadows and uncertain origin who appears only to condemn racism and then disappears again in the liberal mists.

Fitzhugh was right. The problems of existence are too complicated to solve with our minds. The peasant’s heart responds to the simple words of the apostle whom Christ loved: “And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God: and this is that spirit of antichrist, whereof ye have heard...”

The story of Bethlehem was the guiding light of Europe for 1500 years. Why should I or any other white European forsake that light for the darkness of Satan’s black hell?

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I have always hated the poem, “Casey at the Bat.” I see, in the sneering mocking of the hero in that poem, the decadence of the liberal: “There are no heroes, only puffed up false ones.”

Well, Casey, like “Rake” Windermere, comes back. In two poems, one by Grantland Rice, and one by Clarence P. McDonald, Casey shows himself to be the hero that I, and other children and childlike men, always knew him to be.

In Rice’s poem, Casey has fallen into despondency after his famous failure.

He soon began to sulk and loaf, his batting eye went lame
No home runs on the score card now were chalked against his name
And the fans without exception gave the manager no peace,
As one and all kept clamoring for Casey’s quick release.
Then the pitcher “who had fanned him in the pinches” comes to town. No one expects anything from Casey when he steps to the plate, once again, with the game on the line.

The pitcher smiled and cut one loose- across the plate it sped;
Another hiss, another groan. "Strike one!" the umpire said.
Zip! Like a shot the second curve broke just below the knee.
"Strike two!" the umpire roared aloud; but Casey made no plea.

No roasting for the umpire now -- his was an easy lot;
But here the pitcher whirled again -- was that a rifle shot?
A whack, a crack, and out through the space the leather pellet flew,
A blot against the distant sky, a speck against the blue.

Above the fence in center field in rapid whirling flight
The sphere sailed on- the blot grew dim and then was lost to sight.
Ten thousand hats were thrown in air, ten thousand threw a fit,
But no one ever found the ball that mighty Casey hit.

O, somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun,
And somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun!
And somewhere over blighted lives there hangs a heavy pall,
But Mudville hearts are happy now, for Casey hit the ball.


There is no sequel to this plot, except in Mudville’s square
The bronze bust of a patriot -- arms crossed -- is planted there.
His cap is cocked above one eye -- and from his rugged face
The sneer still curls above the crowd -- across the marketplace.

And underneath, in solid bronze, these words are graved in flame --
"Here is a man who rose and fell -- and rose again to fame --
He blew a big one in the pinch -- but facing jeering throngs
He came through Hell to scramble back -- and prove a champ belongs."

My favorite Casey poem, however, is McDonald’s, called “Casey, Twenty Years Later.” In this poem, twenty years have passed. Casey’s former team is playing, and losing, to a rival team. Due to injuries during the course of the game, Casey’s old team finds itself short a player. They call for a volunteer from the stands. I love the last line of the poem:

"Is there within the grandstand here"- his voice rang loud and clear
"A man who has the sporting blood to be a volunteer?"

Again that awful silence settled o'er the multitude.
Was there a man among them with such recklessness imbued?
The captain stood with cap in hand, while hopeless was his glance,
And then a tall and stocky man cried out, "I'll take a chance!"

Into the field he bounded with a step both firm and light;
"Give me the mask and mitt," he said; "let's finish up the fight.
The game is now beyond recall; I'll last at least a round;
Although I'm ancient, you will find me muscular and sound."

His hair was sprinkled here and there with little streaks of gray;
Around his eyes and on his brow a bunch of wrinkles lay.
The captain smiled despairingly and slowly turned away.
"Why, he's all right!" one rooter yelled. Another, "Let him play!"

"All right, go on," the captain sighed. The stranger turned around,
Took off his coat and collar, too, and threw them on the ground.
The humor of the situation seemed to hit them all,
And as he donned the mask and mitt, the umpire called, "Play ball!"

Three balls the pitcher at him heaved, three balls of lightning speed.
The stranger caught them all with ease and did not seem to heed.
Each ball had been pronounced a strike, the side had been put out,
And as he walked in towards the bench, he heard the rooters shout.

One Mudville boy went out on strikes, and one was killed at first;
The captain saw them fail to hit, and gnashed his teeth and cursed.
The third man smashed a double and the fourth man swatted clear,
Then, in a thunder of applause, up came the volunteer.

His feet were planted in the earth, he swung a warlike club;
The captain saw his awkward pose and softly whispered, "Dub!"
The pitcher looked at him and grinned, then heaved a mighty ball;
The echo of that fearful swat still lingers with us all.

High, fast and far the spheroid flew; it sailed and sailed away;
It ne'er was found, so it's supposed it still floats on today.
Three runs came in, the pennant would be Mudville's for a year;
The fans and players gathered round to cheer the volunteer.

"What is your name?" the captain asked. "Tell us you name," cried all,
As down his cheeks great tears of joy were seen to run and fall.
For one brief moment he was still, then murmured soft and low:
"I'm the mighty Casey who struck out just twenty years ago."


Saturday, December 06, 2008

An Unreasonable Proposal

Yea, ape and angel, strife and old debate --
The harps of heaven and the dreary gongs of hell;
Science the feud can only aggravate --
No umpire she betwixt the chimes and knell:
The running battle of the star and clod
Shall run for ever -- if there be no God.
Then keep thy heart, though yet but ill-resigned --
Clarel, thy heart, the issues there but mind;
That like the crocus budding through the snow --
That like a swimmer rising from the deep --
That like a burning secret which doth go
Even from the bosom that would hoard and keep;
Emerge thou mayst from the last whelming sea,
And prove that death but routs life into victory.

--Herman Melville

I spoke with a conservative relative recently who told me an all-too-familiar story. He had sent his daughters to college and they became mad-dog radicals. Of course, I sympathized with my cousin, but I was rather surprised at his surprise. If you give someone an injection of the typhoid virus, aren’t they going to come down with the disease?

When the AIDs epidemic hit, conservatives and right-wingers were quite properly outraged when the governments of the West refused to close down the gay theaters and bathhouses. “Isn’t it just common sense,” the conservatives argued, “to minimize the spread of a disease by destroying the breeding grounds for the disease?” But the powers that were, and are, could not bring themselves to discriminate against sodomites.

And yet the same conservative, who can look at life realistically enough to advocate the closing of the AIDs breeding grounds, would look on someone who advocated shutting down the whole educational establishment from grade school through college, including the surrogates for the academy, our churches, as mad.

I am such a madman. Originally our colleges were the churches, in that they were founded by different Christian sects to further their versions of the faith. The Lutherans had their colleges, the Baptists theirs, the Catholics theirs, and so on. But gradually, every single college founded by a Christian denomination became the ardent advocate for the religion of that guy with the horns and the tail. And the colleges extended their influence to their parent churches. So why should a parent be surprised when his children come back from college or church with academic AIDs? In most cases, the disease is fatal, although there have been some miracle cures.

For the past thirty years, I have heard the ‘Don’t give up! Keep writing those letters and voting’ conservatives say, “The hour is late, but we will win over the American electorate.” And yet they never talk about eliminating the breeding grounds of Negro-worship and radicalism. Does anyone seriously believe that white Christian Europeans can have any influence on society when the schools and churches preach a theology totally opposed to white Europeans? The English women of The English Magazine were right: nothing will change unless hearts and minds are changed. So we must eliminate the institutions that are destroying the hearts and minds of our young, and old, for that matter. (Everyone must go to church or college; don’t forget those night courses for Grandma.)

Of course you cannot, with a wave of a magic wand, disestablish the schools and churches of our land. But the beginning of their disestablishment begins with the conviction that they need to be dismantled. In the past, Europeans have done wonders when they saw what had to be done. I have every faith that if even a small minority of Europeans asked for Gods’ aid and then made a heart and soul commitment to destroy Satan’s schools and churches, they could do it. However, if there is no movement by the Europeans to destroy the schools and churches, nothing good will happen in the war against Satan and his liberal brethren.

It seems that the European has forgotten the wisdom of his race. When he believed in the story of Adam and Eve, he knew that man’s desire to attain equality with God through knowledge was the primary temptation of mankind. As his belief in original sin and his desire for a redeemer diminished, he replaced the love of God with the abstracted study of God. Then that study of God turned into the study of the natural world in which man was the superior of the fairy tale God of the Bible and a co-equal with the god called Nature.

The essential conflict between God and the devil has taken place over the Hebraic and the Greek concept of God. God wants us to look on Him as the hero of a fairy tale. Through great sacrifice and heroism, He saved us from the devil. In contrast, the devil wants us to look on God as the Greek philosophers looked on God – as an impersonal, remote force that reveals itself through nature and can be known by the study of the natural world. And throughout his history, the European has been close or distant from the Christian God to the extent that he was able to resist the Greek temptation. It all comes down to a very basic question: Do you believe in God’s fairy tale or in man’s science?

St. Augustine tells us in his Confessions that one of the biggest obstacles he had to surmount before converting to Christianity was his uneasy feeling that Christ’s Gospel was intellectually inferior to the philosophy of the Greeks and the theology of the Manicheans. This has always been the conflict inside of the European soul. The first Europeans who embraced Christ wrested Him from the clutches of those who thought they could make Christ into a rationalist. But the temptation to rationalize the living God and make Him part of the natural world, and therefore subordinate to the reasoning man who could master nature, has always lurked in the rationalist element of the European people.

Since the rationalist can see no other world but the natural world, his god must be of this world only. Which is why the French Jacobins chose a Parisian prostitute as their goddess, and the European people of today have chosen the collective black race as their god.

It seems as if the advocates of a natural, “rational” religion have won the day. And I certainly don’t expect to see the Europeans return to eternal Europe during my lifetime. But there is one factor that we shouldn’t overlook. There has been no real opposition to the rationalist, black-worshipping moderns. The only resistance to the rationalists has come from other rationalists. The ‘Write letters and vote’ conservatives have never seen existence in the Hebraic or fairy tale mode. “What rationalism has destroyed, rationalism can restore,” has been their mantra. The type of miracle that brings the dead to life does not occur in a rationalist universe. We don’t know what kind of wonders we might see if we break through the rationalist prison wall and step into the fairy land of our European forefathers.

Chesterton called Charles Dickens the last of the great men. What he meant by that was that Dickens still believed in an integral universe, where God was still God, and the ugly brothers, nihilism and rationalism, could only be seen cozying up with low lifes on the fringes of civilization.

I disagree with Chesterton. Dickens was certainly a great man, but he was not great in the sense Chesterton meant. Dickens’ faith, like Dostoyevsky’s, had to pass through the rationalist furnace of doubt before it could come out into the light of day. And like Dostoyevsky, Dickens always retained an element of the rationalist in his soul. But such is the taint of every European of the 20th century. There is no shame in it. But if we are to successfully defeat the new satanic, multiracial forces arrayed against the European, we must leave every last trace of nihilistic rationalism behind.

The term, ‘the last great man,’ could be more appropriately applied to Sir Walter Scott. He lived and wrote when the twin devils of nihilism and rationalism had infected much of the intelligentsia. But he took his case to a Christian people, who still rejected rationalism and clung to the Christ of faith. Scott provided the type of leadership a Christian people needs. He didn’t espouse a particular party platform but urged them, through his stories, to live life in the heroic vein. He single-handedly revived chivalry in the English-speaking world. And it was not a chivalry confined to one class or one profession. It was a profounder, cleaner chivalry of the heart. Jeanie Deans practiced it when she walked from Scotland to London to beg pardon for her sister, and Quentin Durward practiced it when he gave up military glory to aid a helpless matron.

That we are not called upon to study God in the abstract but to love Him by taking up our cross and following Him, is something every Scott hero and heroine has enshrined in their hearts. And the glorious cross all true Europeans carry is the cross of spirit and blood. All heathendom can live in blood orgies without the life sustaining spirit with which He infused all of Europe. And the rationalists of Christendom can live without the blood ties that make God a reality instead of an airy nothing without a local habitation and a name. But the European must and will have a civilization consecrated to Him, spirit and blood. Throw away all the charts and diagrams and polls that say the European must fade away and hand the world over to the multitudinous hordes of the devil. There is one thing missing in the charts, diagrams, and polls. No one can measure or quantify the effect of one human heart joining with the Divine Heart. That special synergy has, in the past, produced miracles that confounded the rationalist predictions of gloom and death. The men and women with the faithful hearts are the last Europeans. So long as there is one faithful heart left, Europe lives.

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