For Whom Should We Weep

“What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her?”

-Hamlet

I recently saw a news special in which a group of conservationists were lamenting the fate of the African black rhino. Apparently the black rhino has become extinct because the Asians believe the black rhino’s horn has magical healing powers. That superstitious belief, of the oh-so intelligent Asians, made the extermination of the African black rhino very profitable. And the African authorities, who could care less about the extinction of the black rhino, were quite willing to look the other way while poachers made enormous profits selling “magical” black rhino horns to Asians.

Oddly enough the liberals in the special did not blame the Asians for the extinction of the black rhino. Nor did they blame the Africans. Guess who they blamed? No, I’m not going to tell you; I want you to guess. What’s that you say? You’re right! They blamed the white man. Why was it the white man’s fault? The conservationists didn’t say; I suppose it was another one of those self-evident truths apparent to everyone who can see the Emperor’s new clothes and not apparent to those of us who only see a fat, naked emperor.

Two points need to be made about the liberals and their concern for the extinction of the black rhino. The first and lesser point to be made is that the people of color whom the liberals worship do not support the liberals on most issues, such as the preservation of endangered animals, in which the liberals happen to be in the right because they retain a remnant of Christianity in their souls. The colored tribes only support the liberals when it comes to the one central issue, the hatred of the white man. It’s a contradiction the liberals are unwilling to face: their colored gods do not value what they value. Other than their shared hatred for the white man, the liberals and the colored tribes have nothing in common. Is a shared hatred something to build upon? Only in the short term; in the long term the liberals and their colored gods are going to come into conflict. What a shame.

The second more important point is this: an infallible way to learn what an individual or a people value is to look at whom they have compassion for. Because I am a white man I regret the extermination of the black rhino. It was not a good thing. However, my sympathy for the black rhino is nothing compared to my sympathy for the white race, which is also being exterminated. But do the liberals who weep for the black rhino share my sympathy for the white race? No, they don’t. They are worse than indifferent to the sufferings of white people; they rejoice in everything that hurts the white man and moves the liberals and the colored people further along the road to Babylon. When white people are tortured, murdered, and raped by black people, the liberals go on the attack against anyone who tries to hold blacks accountable for their crimes. And yet when there is even a suggestion that a black has suffered at the hands of whites, as in the bogus rape allegations against the Duke lacrosse team, the whole liberal world is roused to a fevered pitch of righteous fury.

Such sympathy for black Hecubas is truly revealing. Why do the liberals have such sympathy for the blacks and no sympathy for their own people? Because the generic suffering black is the liberals’ substitute for the Suffering Servant of the Christian faith. They have created the black suffering servant to worship and adore, so even a hint of an attack on their god elicits their sympathy. It has always been thus and it always shall be. Liberalism is from the devil; therefore, the liberals will always reserve their sympathy for their devilish gods and those who further the cause of their devilish gods.

In Burke’s third letter against a peace with the regicide French, he comments on the English liberals’ hatred of their own Christian countrymen and their love and concern for French atheistic rebels.

Men are rarely without some sympathy in the sufferings of others; but in the immense and diversified mass of human misery, which may be pitied, but cannot be relieved, in the gross, the mind must make a choice. Our sympathy is always more forcibly attracted towards the misfortunes of certain persons, and in certain descriptions: and this sympathetic attraction discovers, beyond a possibility of mistake, our mental affinities, and elective affections. It is a much surer proof, than the strongest declaration, of a real connexion and of an over-ruling bias in the mind. I am told that the active sympathies of this party have been chiefly, if not wholly attracted to the sufferings of the patriarchal rebels, who were amongst the promulgators of the maxims of the French Revolution, and who have suffered, from their apt and forward scholars, some part of the evils, which they had themselves so liberally distributed to all the other parts of the community. Some of these men, flying from the knives which they had sharpened against their country and its laws, rebelling against the very powers they had set over themselves by their rebellion against their Sovereign, given up by those very armies to whose faithful attachment they trusted for their safety and support, after they had compleately debauched all military fidelity in its source.

The man who sympathizes with the demonic ‘other’, whether the demonic other is a French Regicide or a colored barbarian, is a man with a disordered soul who will always champion the cause of Satan over Christ. I agree with Burke; once we see where a man’s sympathies lie we know the man. My sympathies lie with the white victims of colored atrocities, and I hate those who have made gods of their murderers. I don’t think a white man can feel any other way and still be a human being, because once a man severs his natural ties to kith and kin, he is open to every unnatural tie that comes his way, compliments of Satan. And the satanic, unnatural ties – feminism, homosexuality, and negro worship – are all presented to the European as progressions toward a multi-racial, multi-sexual utopia. Only prejudice can stop the building of utopia, so prejudice must be, according to the liberals’ bible, eradicated.

Mainstream conservatives in church and state spend most of their adult lives trying to prove they are not prejudiced. But we are all prejudiced; we could not live, as Richard Weaver so eloquently told us, without prejudice. Our prejudices stem from our heartfelt sentiments about the nature of existence. The liberals who deride “prejudice” have deep-seated prejudices of their own. When they accuse their enemies of “prejudice” they are merely using a diversionary tactic. It is not prejudice that bothers the liberal, it is prejudice that does not coincide with his prejudice that he is against. It is not then a question of eliminating prejudices, it is a question of whose prejudices are correct. Is the negro really a demi-god devoid of original sin? Is the Christian faith of the antique Europeans based on a lie? The liberals’ deep-seated prejudices compel them to answer yes to both questions, just as my deep-seated prejudices compel me to answer No! to both questions.

Just because all God’s children have prejudices does not mean all prejudices should be tolerated. A man’s prejudices must stand the test of reality. If they are false and vicious, they should be challenged, and the people who hold such prejudices should be fought. Because the liberals have a prejudice against white Europeans, they have no sympathy for the torture and murder of white Europeans. Because the liberal is prejudiced against Christ, he makes a substitute Christ out of the black savage. Liberal prejudices are not based on reality. They are the prejudices of men and women who have severed the ties that bind them to humanity, in favor of abstract theories of life which promise them unlimited pleasure in a paradisiacal world devoid of the pain and suffering, caused by white people and their God.

In a Christian European society liberals would either be incarcerated or be in hiding in some cellar writing hate-spewing pamphlets against their own people. But we do not live in a Christian society. We live in Liberaldom, which has institutionalized the satanic love of the demonic stranger and the hatred of one’s own kith and kin, so Christian Europeans have been relegated to jails and cellars.

Liberals frequently say of other liberals, when one of their utopian schemes goes awry, that their hearts were in the right place. But the exact opposite is the case. The liberals’ hearts are not in the right place! Their hearts should be with their own people and with their peoples’ God. Rousseau’s heart was not in the right place when he fantasized about the Nobel Savage. Pope John XXIII’s heart was not in the right place when he forgave the unrepentant black savages who tortured and murdered his people. Nor is any liberal’s heart in the right place when he longs for the destruction of everything European. A utopian mind stems from a sick soul. One’s own race is always the hated race in the mind of an utopian liberal. Maybe his mother beat him, or his father abandoned him, or he does not feel that his own people truly appreciate his great genius. So the demented liberal creates, in his mind’s eye, a kinder, gentler race of people who truly love and appreciate him. And in doing so the liberal steps away from humanity and walks into the arms of Satan. God gave us one people to love over all others so that we could be connected to Him through that love. The liberal who rejects the personal and particular love of his own people for the love of an abstracted image of the demonic stranger is a man without a soul.

The soullessness that Scott’s Last Minstrel speaks of – “Breathes there a man with soul so dead…” – is the modern European. Just as Christian chivalry was bred in the bone of the antique Europeans, so is a condition of soullessness bred into the very bone of the modern European. He says that his world has been expanded so that his potentialities to love and be loved have expanded. But that is a bitter, loathsome theory very far from the truth. Love stems from a depth of feeling that can only come from a close attachment to our own kith and kin. The modern existentialists such as Camus, Becket, and Sartre wrote that any contact with one’s fellow human beings was hell. Their prejudices against humanity stemmed from their loss of faith in the humane God. Human contact of any kind without faith in Christ is indeed unbearable. Who can stand such an existence? Certainly not the liberal, so he seeks oblivion in Babylon where the colored, demonic ‘other’ dwells. “Blessed stranger, lead me into the darkness of oblivion and away from the unbearable burden of my race,” is the prayer of the modern liberal European.

Whenever (which consists of the bulk of my waking hours) I place myself back in the Europe of my ancestors by way of book, movie, or vision, I am struck by the tremendous gulf separating them from the modern Europeans. And if I was asked to explain that deep gulf, I would say that it was the result of the antique Europeans’ fairy-tale comprehension of life, which is in direct contrast to the modern European’s material view of existence. Like the ancient Hebrew the antique European was aware that there were laws of nature: a man had to eat; a spear, an arrow, or bullet could kill him, and so on. But the world of nature was not the antique European’s world anymore than it was the ancient Hebrew’s world. The antique European viewed the natural world as a mere backdrop for the greater world of the spirit. The soulless modern European needs to find that ancient world again. And it falls upon the remnant band, the last Europeans, to place the threads of the European past into the soulless Europeans’ hands and bid them make their way back to the land of the fairy tale, the land of love, the land of honor and of faith. The evil wizards and witches of Liberaldom will try to prevent the return of the Europeans to their homeland, but the liberals are not infallible or invincible. “We are in God’s hands, brother, not theirs.” +

In Remembrance

“Why, it’s old Fezziwig! Bless his heart; it’s Fezziwig alive again!” – from A Christmas Carol

I’ve now become old enough (how did it happen?) to bore my children with “when I was young” or “when I was your age” stories. So let me proceed with a “when I was young” story.

When I was young there was a television show called Tombstone Territory. The Theme song (most Westerns had to have a theme song) went something like this:

Whistle me back a memory
Whistle me back where I wanna be,
Whistle a tune that will carry me
To Tombstone Territory.

When your past has gone afoul of the law
It’s a handy place to be
Because your future’s just as good as your draw
In Tombstone Territory.

It’s been 45 years since the show aired, so I might be a bit sketchy about the words, but I think I’ve captured the sentiment. As the theme song indicated, Tombstone Territory was not yet part of the United States; bad men went there to escape from their crimes. The show featured a different good guy every week that would go into Tombstone in order to put “paid” to the account of a bad guy, who found out, too late, that he couldn’t escape from the knights without armor who dealt out justice without regard to legalistic technicalities.

After that mini-introduction you would be entitled to anticipate an article about Westerns. Well, even though I’m due for another article on Westerns, this article is not going to be about Westerns. It’s going to be about whistling back a memory, a memory of Dickens’ London.

Do you recall old Fezziwig, who employed Ebenezer Scrooge when he was a young man? If you do then you will know that Fezziwig was a wonderful employer and a man who kept Christmas as it should be kept. But there is another aspect of the Fezziwig story that should be told.

__________________

A young orphan boy, about the same age as Oliver Twist when he roamed the streets of London, found himself alone and homeless and desperately trying to avoid the Fagins of the world who prey on the innocent. When hope seemed nearly gone the young orphan was rescued from the streets by the self-same Fezziwig of the Christmas Carol. Fezziwig, who was about 35 at the time, took the young orphan into his family home and he and his wife raised him as their own. He taught Johnathan, for so he was named, that God was love, and he made Johnathan feel loved by God by loving him in the name of God. And when the time came for Jonathan to enter the world, Fezziwig started him in a business of his own. Such men are rare indeed.

A few years after Fezziwig’s Christmas party, depicted in A Christmas Carol, Fezziwig was put on trial for fraud, embezzlement, counterfeiting, and numerous other charges including that of sorcery. In point of fact all the charges were false. They were put forward by a cabal of sophisters, economists, and calculators who sought to ruin Fezziwig. Some sought his ruin because they hoped to profit financially by his demise, and others sought his ruin because they hated any man who refused to descend to their level of inhumanity. The fiendish cabal succeeded! Fezziwig was ruined and sent to prison, where he died in the first month of a 20-year sentence.

During the trial only Johnathan Fezziwig spoke in defense of Fezziwig. But he had no hard evidence of Fezziwig’s innocence to speak of. All he could speak of was Fezziwig’s kindness to a poor orphan boy, and of his kindness to the poor and to his employees.

Johnathan also told the court that Fezziwig’s voice always trembled with emotion when he read certain passages from the Bible, especially those passages which described Christ’s miracles of charity, such as the raising of Jairus’s daughter and the raising of Lazarus from the dead.

“Objection. Such anecdotes are hardly relevant,” the prosecuting attorney asserted.

“Objection sustained,” the judge replied. “You will confine your remarks to hard evidence.”

But Johnathan had no “hard evidence,” only a deep and abiding love for a man he knew, with a certainty deeper and more profound than mathematical certainty, to be the finest, noblest man that ever lived.

The trial and the subsequent death of Fezziwig did not change Johnathan’s desire to restore Fezziwig’s reputation and to reclaim Fezziwig’s business from the sophisters, economists, and calculators. Johnathan wanted to restore Fezziwig’s reputation because he loved him, and regarding the business: Johnathan didn’t want to reclaim it because he needed money; he wanted to reclaim Fezziwig’s business because he knew the new owners (the sophisters, economists, and calculators) had not charity. Under their reign, the beast in man would rule instead of the divinity in man.

What happened to all of Fezziwig’s friends? Johnathan went to them after Fezziwig’s death and asked them to help him restore Fezziwig’s reputation and reclaim his business. Joseph Gage, an Alderman, told him, “I liked old Fezziwig; I never thought the serious charges against him were true. But he was a man who had 'a taste'. At some of those Christmas parties he gave I’m sure he was intoxicated. Yes, he had his faults, old Fezziwig did, and you’d best forget about trying to restore his reputation and reclaim his business. Things will get along nicely without him.”

William Taylor, city clerk: “Fezziwig seemed to be a good man, but obviously he wasn’t since the courts found him guilty of so many terrible crimes. It just goes to show you that you really can’t know a man properly until he goes to court or dies. That way you have access to all his secret papers.”

Richard Allen, neighbor: “Nothing surprises me about that man. He was enamored of works. He thought all of the charity work he did would be pleasing to God. But our works are rags; we are saved by grace. I’m sorry for you, Johnathan, but you should not have made a whited sepulcher of Fezziwig.”

Johnathan: “He never sought to buy his way into heaven, Mr. Allen. He gave because he felt sorry for people; it was that simple.”

Allen (with an insufferable, more-pious-than-thou look on his face): “I think you see Fezziwig with rose-tinted glasses. I see him for what he was: a sinner who thought he could get to heaven through works alone.”

And so it went. Johnathan soon gave up trying to enlist the support of Fezziwig’s “friends.” He had one last hope; he sought out the man who had been Fezziwig’s pastor for the last thirty years of his life, the Rev. George Grey.

Johnathan: “Do you believe the charges against him?”

Rev. Grey: “I don’t know what to believe. I didn’t attend the trial, and they wouldn’t let me see him in prison.”

Johnathan: “But you worked with him on so many charitable projects. You were a guest at his house. Surely you must have known the man?”

Grey: “He seemed to be a good man, but what am I to think about all the testimony against him?”

Johnathan: “But Reverend, look at the men who testified against him. They are the scum of the earth not fit to tie his shoelaces, let alone supplant him in his business. What will happen to all your charitable enterprises without Fezziwig? He was the heart and soul of the charitable outreach in this church for the past 45 years.”

Grey: “I see no reason why Fezziwig’s successors can’t carry on the same charitable activities that Fezziwig maintained. In fact their business should do better because they have brought in Chinese and African labor.”

Johnathan: “Are they maintaining the charities?”

Grey: “Well, no, not at present, but I have every hope that they will in the future.”

Johnathan: “It’s always in the future, isn’t it, Reverend?”

Grey: “I think we all must look to the future, Johnathan. And I must say, at the risk of giving offence, that you have an overly romanticized view of Fezziwig. He is in the past; you should look to the future.”

Johnathan: “I don’t think I’ll take your advice, Reverend. I’ll stay with Fezziwig and Fezziwig’s God."

Grey: “You’re taking a very narrow view of things.”

Johnathan: “Yes, I am. Didn’t someone once say something about a narrow gate?”

Grey: “I fear…”

Johnathan: “That I’m going to wrong those honorable men? I’m not going to wrong them. I’m going to see justice done. You won’t see me at church anymore, but when you read about the untimely deaths of a few sophisters, economists, and calculators, you’ll know that a narrow-minded, overly romantical, Fezziwig-partisan is still in the vicinity.”

__________________

There is a moral gulf between the pre-20^th century European and the modern European that makes one believe the pre-modern European is a different species from the modern European. An even wider moral gulf exists between the colored peoples and the pre-modern European. The contrast seems to be the greatest between the pre-modern white and the black, but the moral gulf is an infinity of cubits wide between the pre-modern European and all the colored races, Asians, brown, etc.

The reason for the moral gulf is Jesus Christ. The pre-modern Europeans took Him into their hearts and hearths and became the Christ-bearers to the heathen nations. In contrast the modern Europeans of the 20^th and 21^st centuries rejected Christ and became the vanguard of Satan, destroying everything European and Christian in order to create a kingdom of Satan on earth.

In the satanic phase of his history the European sought out the colored tribes, not to convert them as he attempted to do during the Christian stage of his history, but to mix his blood with theirs in order to eradicate the European from the face of the earth. Modern anti-Christian Christians who mix their blood with the colored in order to “Christianize” them must answer the question, “Why, when Christianity was the faith of the European people, didn’t the Europeans mix their blood with that of the colored people?” It seemed clear to the antique Europeans that in order to convert the heathen it was necessary to stay European. A mixed colored and European race soon becomes a thoroughly colored monster race. The New Age Christian, who wants Christianity and race-mixing, is always forced by the logic of his new Christ-less faith to deny the European Christianity of his ancestors and replace it with a propositional faith that can be all things to all people. In the new Babylonian Christianity, Christ is part Buddha, part witch doctor, and part guru, but he is not the Son of God whom the Europeans of old worshipped in spirit and in truth.

That the antique European’s vision of Christ is the true vision we should not question for one moment. There will always be the Twains, the Shaws, and the Voltaires who want to treat the European miracle as a debatable hypothesis or even as an outright falsehood. Such creatures are not seeking the truth. They, like Satan, their mentor, cannot stand to look upon a God who loves according to what is in the heart, not the head. Nor can they abide a people who prefer to be ruled by the Man of Sorrows rather than by satanic theories from the pygmy brains of the anti-European intellectuals. It is the task of the remnant Europeans – there will always be a remnant – to stay bound in spirit and blood to their ancestors and their God so that the prodigals can return to the fold and the heathen can see The Light of the nations.

In England radical “educators” are trying to ban the use of white paper in the schools because they feel the use of white paper gives black children the idea that white is good and black is bad. There is a demonic wisdom in the educators’ new gambit. They have comprehended there is a mystical element to race, but because they are satanic liberals they have inverted the racial hierarchy. In reality, the white represents the extreme good and the black the extreme evil with the other races in between. Farfetched? No, it is not. Good and evil exist in every race, but the potentialities for evil and good are not the same in every race. We are more appalled at the evil white men do because of what we know they can be, and we are less appalled – or should we say less surprised – at the evil colored people do because we don’t expect as much from them as we do from the white man. Such sentiments stem from prejudice, a prejudice derived from looking through the eye at the differences between modern Europeans, the colored peoples, and the antique Europeans. The liberals have an opposing view; they see a black race of people who should be worshipped above all other people by a supporting cast of Asians, Indians, and liberals. It falls to us, the remnant Europeans, to defend Europe against the modern Babylonians, not to debate with them, for if we debate with the liberals we concede that the absolute necessity of the survival of the Christ-bearing race is a debatable point. Such a concession is blasphemy. Better to be against the world than against our God. +

The European Vision: Sources of Hostility

“It is sufficient,” said the Disinherited Knight. “Half the sum my present necessities compel me to accept; of the remaining half, distribute one moiety among yourselves, sir squires, and divide the other half betwixt the heralds and the pursuivants, and minstrels, and attendants.”

The squires, with cap in hand, and low reverences, expressed their deep sense of a courtesy and generosity not often practiced, at least upon a scale so extensive. The Disinherited Knight then addressed his discourse to Baldwin, the squire of Brian de Bois-Gilbert. “From your master,” said he, “I will accept neither arms nor ransom. Say to him in my name, that with lances, as well on foot as on horseback. To this mortal quarrel he has himself defied me, and I shall not forget the challenge. Meantime, let him be assured that I hold him not as one of his companions, with whom I can with pleasure exchange courtesies; but rather as one with whom I stand upon terms of mortal defiance.”

-Ivanhoe by Walter Scott

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- Of cabbages--and kings-- And why the sea is boiling hot-- And whether pigs have wings." A friend whose advice I respect recently advised me to open up my column to comments. By doing so, my friend argued, I could have a greater influence and I could deal with all my detractors. “Do you know what they are saying about you?” With all due respect I don’t intend to follow my friend’s advice. On the question of influencing more people: if you haven’t been able to “influence” a person with a heartfelt, carefully written article, why should you be able to influence them with a shorter, less carefully written letter? Comments written by way of email tend to be sloppy and snippy, and being full of original sin I’m sure my replies would tend to be sloppy and snippy. So right away I would be involved in a sloppy and snippy quarrel. Hardly in keeping with the code of my exemplars, such as Walter Scott.

And what about those detractors? For the brief space of time that I received comments the detractors outnumbered the supporters by ten to one. Who has the time or energy to deal with that many detractors? Despite being time and energy-consuming, I still might debate my detractors if I genuinely believed that I could convince one living soul among them that I was right and they were wrong by the use of rational, dialectical argument. But I’ve lived long enough to see the futility of such arguments. Human beings form their opinions based on passions. They use their reason to defend their passions. No rational argument can change a man’s passions. He has to come to a belief that his passions are misplaced by an internal process that defies rational exposition. For instance, I converted to Christianity in my mid-twenties thanks to the good offices of the European poets. Their vision of Christianity was my vision. After converting to Christianity I was determined to find a church that shared my vision of Christ. My passion to worship led me to the Roman Catholic Church. At the time of my entry into the Roman Catholic Church there was no argument on the face of the earth that could have convinced me that the Roman Catholic Church was not the one and only Christian church just as Edmund Gwen in Miracle on 34^th Street was the one and only Santa Claus. After a short purgatory in the Novus Ordo Church and a longer stay with the traditionalists, I came to the conclusion that my vision of Christ and the Roman Catholic Church’s vision were incompatible. I had to choose between two passions, my vision of Christ or my desire to belong to a church. I chose to stay with the vision. At that point I was open to all the rational arguments against the Roman Catholic Church’s claim to be the one true church, because an internal non-rational process had made me receptive to reason. You can only reach people who are going through an internal process much like your own. When they see their inmost passion embodied in words they respond, and a rare thing happens: two kindred souls meet.

“Do you know what they are saying about you?” Of course I know. I’ve lived in Liberaldom my entire life. I don’t have to listen to every single liberal rant in order to know the enemy. Their rants are not that original. And what could I do to stop the rants if I did listen to them all?

No might nor greatness in mortality
Can censure scape; back-wounding calumny
The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?

If even a king cannot stop back-wounding calumny, how can we lesser mortals stop it?

The antique Europeans did not put forward any theories of race. They had a prejudice that whites should stay with their own and coloreds should stay with their own. Conquistadores, pirates, and mountain men often violated the white man’s code, but it was a definite code that existed in the heart of the Christian European Everyman of the Catholic and Protestant persuasions up till the latter half of the 20^th century. (1) Then it seemed that almost overnight all the old prejudices were thrown away and a new Christianity was posited. In the name of the universal brotherhood of man race-mixing was not only permitted, it was encouraged as the Christian thing to do. What caused this colossal change?

The liberal will tell us that a new enlightened philosophy caused the change. The cobwebs of superstition and prejudice were washed away and light and progress came into the old, dilapidated European house. But when we see the bitter fruits of the new enlightened Christianity we must reject the liberals’ assessment.

One spring I took a walk around a nearby lake on two successive days. On the first day the lake was covered with ice. On the second day the ice was entirely gone. It appeared that the ice had melted overnight. But of course this was not the case. The melting process had taken place over a longer period of time. The final deicing only appeared as a sudden overnight phenomenon.

Such is the case with the new Christian universalism. It took centuries for Christianity to become a propositional philosophy in which the nature and the personal attributes of God could only be known by studying things outside of man, such as nature and abstract philosophy. Nothing inside man was of any consequence; He, the rational, godded men told us, was to be found in the vaporous mists of their cogitations. All the humanity was extracted from the Christian faith, leaving a hollow shell of a church, dedicated to abstractions such as ‘humanity’ and ‘brotherhood’, and opposed to actual flesh and blood human beings, who held to very basic notions of fidelity to kith and kin. If we replace the God of the hearth fire, the God whom we know through the human things, with a propositional God who can be known only through the intersession of experts on the subject of God, we will become slaves to the new fusionist faith of the Christ-less Christian churches.

The hostility toward the antique, European Christianity that does not equate Christianity with propositional, philosophical liberalism comes from four sources: the liberals, the Roman Catholics, the Protestants, and the neo-pagans. The Roman Catholic is wedded to the doctrine of papal infallibility even though no two Catholics agree on the definition of it; some Catholics invoke it for almost every Papal encyclical, and other Catholics in the traditionalist ranks, for the obvious reason that they want the leeway to disregard what the Vatican II popes say, claim there was only ever one or two infallible Papal statements. Not all traditionalist priests are as cynical as Father ____, who when asked what Papal encyclicals were infallible, said, “Whatever one I agree with is infallible.” Actually such cynicism is preferable to the papolatry of the conservatives. I was once given the boot from my parish when I asked my priest, who taught that John Paul II’s strictures against capital punishment were infallible, “How can Peter contradict Peter? The popes prior to Vatican II supported capital punishment.”

“Those popes didn’t speak infallibly, but John Paul II is speaking infallibly,” was the rather confusing answer.

It was inevitable that papal infallibility would become part of the modern church, because the new doctrine makes the layman completely dependent on the religious expert to tell him what the Christian faith is. If the experts tell him that to love God means to hate one’s own and love the colored races, the poor Catholic layman feels he must do as the experts say. The reason the Catholic grazer can watch his daughter walk down the aisle and marry a black man is because outside of his church he has no faith to cling to. It is to no avail to tell the Roman Catholic layman that there is another Catholic church besides the modern Roman Catholic Church and there is another faith: the heartfelt faith of the people of old Europe. Their secret was discovered by George Fitzhugh, the Southern cavalier and man of letters:

The prevalent philosophy of the day takes cognizance of but half of human nature – and that the worst half. Our happiness is so involved in the happiness and well-being of everything around us that a mere selfish philosophy, like political economy, is a very unsafe and delusive guide.

We employ the term Benevolence to express our outward affections, sympathies, tastes, and feelings, but it is inadequate to express our meaning; it is not the opposite of selfishness, and unselfishness would be too negative for our purpose. Philosophy has been so busy with the worst feature of human nature that it has not even found a name for this, its better feature. We must fall back on Christianity, which embraces man’s whole nature, and though not a code of philosophy, is something better; for its proposes to lead us through the trials and intricacies of life, not by the mere cool calculations of the head, but by the unerring instincts of a pure and regenerate heart. The problem of the Moral World is too vast and complex for the human mind to comprehend; yet the pure heart will, safely and quietly, feel its way through the mazes that confound the head.

Why belabor the point by going through the mini-Romes of the Protestant churches? They have their own denominational popes and their inflexible belief in the propositional faith of the experts, who condemn the blood faith of the antique Europeans in the name of the universal faith of Babylonian Christianity. You will never convince such Christians, Roman Catholic or Protestant, that they are wrong, and the antique, racist Europeans are a more certain touchstone of reality than their “infallible” experts. Such “Christians” produce sadness more than anger. No matter how beautiful, in my eyes, the culture of old Europe seems to be, in comparison to the filth of modern Babylon, the condemnations still come. “We must support the Pope and love our black brothers.” “You seem to be suggesting that Europeans did something special when it was nothing but the grace of God; you are a free-willer.” Modern anti-Christian Christian theology is designed to support the outward forms of the faith to the detriment of the substance of the faith, which is a belief in Christ crucified, Christ risen. What is wrong with modern man? Dostoyevsky told us, “He has lost Jesus Christ.” He still lives though in the European past, which is past, present, and future.

The liberal is a product of the propositional faiths of the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches. If human reason has the final say about the nature of God, what stands in the way of human reason becoming God? Liberals have created a Humpty Dumpty world: “When I use a word, it means anything I want it to mean,” in which they invent abstractions, such as the Noble Savage, and then worship the abstraction. Burke, the supreme anti-liberal of Europe, cut right to the heart of the liberals’ madness when he wrote, “I hate abstractions.” Like their mentors, Voltaire, Rousseau, and Satan, the liberals will mock on. Our task is to hold to the vision that is not dependent on the research of the rationalists.

“It is useless to tell us that we know nothing of these things, that we can know nothing until their critical examination is over; we can only say, ‘Examine away; but we do know something of this matter, whatever you may assent to the contrary, and mean to live on that knowledge.’” We cannot find God in nature or in the abstractions of the rationalists; He is incarnate. We live in Him and through Him; at least that is what the ancient Europeans bore witness to. They wept and believed.

The final chapter in this tragic history is the neo-pagan revolt. Neo-pagans are in rebellion against Christ because, they claim, He has killed the white race with His talk of love and universal brotherhood. To believe such an enormous lie the neo-pagan must join with the liberals and the Christian rationalists in proclaiming the new Christianity of the abstract Christ to be the true Christianity. The Europeans who walked in the garden of Gethsemane with Christ knew differently. And so would the neo-pagans if they truly loved their people.

The collective voice of the antique Europeans says, “We know that Man, and you do not know Him; that is the sum and substance of your tragedy.” Is there one voice that can speak for all those voices? Yes, there is. Writing towards the end of the Christian era of Europe, John Watson (pen name Ian Maclaren) wrote two novels which stand together as one work, titled Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush and The Days of Auld Lang Syne. He speaks for the European people in those works. Such a people, with such a vision of God, must be our guide through this vale of tears. (2)

“Ye’re right, Saunders, and a bonnie stack it makes;” and then Charlie Grant went in with Drumsheugh to the warmth and the kindly light, while the darkness fell upon the empty harvest field, from which the last sheaf had been safely garnered. +

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(1) Inclusiveness is all the rage in the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches. Yet there is no room for Europeans who believe, as Langland the Catholic, Bunyan the Puritan, and every European Christian prior to the 20^th century believed – that a man should cling to his own people and love them over all.

(2) The psalmist reminds us that we walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. The saints and poets of incarnational Europe show us that He walks with us through that Valley to the Mountains beyond it. If the Scottish dialect in Watson’s books is too much for you then let Sheridan LeFanu have the last European word:

It is not easy to recall in calm and happy hours the sensations of an acute sorrow that is past. Nothing, by the merciful ordinance of God, is more difficult to remember than pain. One or two great agonies of that time I do remember, and they remain to testify of the rest, and convince me, though I can see it no more, how terrible all that period was.

Next day was the funeral, that appalling necessity; smuggled away in whispers, by black familiars, unresisting, the beloved one leaves home, without a farewell, to darken those doors no more; henceforward to lie outside, far away, and forsaken, through the drowsy heats of summer, through days of snow and nights of tempest, without light or warmth, without a voice near. Oh, Death, king of terrors! The body quakes and the spirit faints before thee. It is vain, with hands clasped over our eyes, to scream our reclamation; the horrible image will not be excluded. We have just the word spoken eighteen hundred years ago, and our trembling faith. And through the broken vault the gleam of the Star of Bethlehem.

Europe Regained

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.

-King Lear

About ten years ago, when my mother was still alive, she sent me the obituary of the man who had been my Little League manager. He was the type of man who would make a good subject for the old Reader’s Digest feature called “My Most Unforgettable Character.” Mr. Gulf was the only manager who didn’t have children on a team. His kids were all grown, but he stayed on as a volunteer umpire and a manager. When he died at 88, he had only been retired from Little League baseball for six years. Mr. Gulf was a tall, barrel-chested man with a gravel voice, but he was very patient with his charges and seemed to have grasped the fact, unlike some of the other adults involved with the Little League, that Little League baseball was supposed to help boys become men, in the ‘Battle of Waterloo and the playing fields of Eton’ sense. The Little League was not designed, in Mr. Gulf’s eyes, to help grown men become little boys again. To many of the parents and other managers Mr. Gulf was a figure of ridicule because he regularly sat on the edge of the dugout and spouted sport clichés. But he wasn’t comical to us, because Mr. Gulf actually believed in the clichés and his belief made us believe.

One of Mr. Gulf’s favorite axioms, which he delivered to every boy before he stepped up to the plate, was, “Son, you’ve got to believe that you can hit that ball. If you don’t believe in yourself, you’ll never get a hit.” A cliché? Not to Mr. Gulf and not to us. More often than not, we did hit the ball because Mr. Gulf made us believe we could hit. And it seems to me that the problem with the modern European man is that he no longer believes in himself. I don’t mean this in the blasphemous sense, in that a man should believe only in himself and in nothing outside himself; I mean it as an extension of Mr. Gulf’s ‘Battle of Waterloo and the playing fields of Eton’ metaphysic. The European used to believe that his culture was superior to every other culture, and that superiority, which came to him by the grace of God, entailed certain responsibilities, chiefly the responsibility of defending his race and his people against the onslaught of lesser breeds who were outside the law and did not know or respect the God of charity and mercy. Strength, vigilance, and unflinching loyalty to white culture was thought to be necessary because the European considered his race as the Christ-bearing race.

The modern European, to the extent that he has any strength, vigilance, or loyalty, expends it all in attacking the white race and the religion that was championed by the white race. There is no escaping that fact. Halfway house Christians will claim that they are just removing the bad European cultural baggage from Christianity and restoring the Christian faith to its original purity, but it is not difficult to see the disingenuousness of their claim. Every single “improvement” on the European-centered Christianity is in line with liberalism; not the gospel of Jesus Christ, the God of the antique Europeans. The new spirit of inclusion is not an improvement; it is a dethronement of Christ. The new cult of Negro worship is not an advance; it is a blasphemous capitulation to the lowest form of paganism. And where in Scripture did Christ say that it was permissible to make Him subordinate to the democratic process?

The new Christianity is not Christianity. Those who equate Christianity with an organized, philosophical system or a social club will follow the new anti-Christian Christianity to its logical conclusion, which is hell. But the Europeans who yearn for a God of charity and mercy above the nature gods will still seek the Son of God. The problem facing the drug-soaked, sex-crazed, nihilistic European, who still feels a void in his soul, is that the Christ he sees before his eyes is a liberal Christ. He needs to seek out the same hovel that Lear took refuge in. And there, in the hovel of spiritual desolation, he will see the Christ, not the Christ of the liberals, but The Christ, The Son of the Living God.

In one post I wrote, titled “The Gingerbread House,” I mentioned that the United States and the western European countries used the seductive form of the egalitarian heresy. They covered the books about the European past with monkey-vomit and told the lost souls of modernity that they were welcome to read that filth if they could stand the stench. By and large the confused modern turned from a past covered with monkey vomit. But some pilgrims were so desperate or possibly so cynical that they had to see the monkey vomit books for themselves. I was such an individual. And in those books whose covers were sprayed with the liberal monkey vomit of scorn, derision, and accusations of racism and infantilism, there was a compelling image of a God whom the European people used to worship. He was not the God of the modern, organized churches; He was not the God of the philosophers or the Negro-worshippers; He was Jesus of Nazareth, the Man of Sorrows, who took flesh and dwelt among us. This the antique European believed.

The antique European also believed in his eternal moment. He believed that what he did on this earth made a difference, because his blood was connected to a loving Savior who had forged a connection to His people more mystical and mysterious than the most devout devotee of the ancient mystery religions could conceive, and more intrinsically humane than any philosopher or moral theologian could possibly imagine. The liberal has convinced the European that he has no eternal moment, that there is no link between mortal man and a loving God. We are all, we Europeans of the old stock, in Hamlet’s position. We are born to set it right. We will not be played upon by liberals who are determined to pluck out our mystery by denying our blood connection to the living God:

Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?

Guil. My lord, I cannot.

Ham. I pray you.

Guil. Believe me, I cannot.

Ham. I do beseech you.

Guil. I know no touch of it, my lord.

Ham. ‘Tis as easy as lying. Govern these ventages with your finger and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most excellent music. Look you, these are the stops.

Guil. But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony. I have not the skill.

Ham. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. ‘Sblood, do you think that I am easier to be play’d on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.

There is a world in those words, “Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.”

Just as Claudius sought to impose his world, based on adultery and fratricide, on Hamlet, so do the liberals seek to impose their world of Negro worship, infanticide, and Christ-less Christianity on the European. The grazers have accepted the legitimacy of the liberals’ world, but we few, we Europeans, will not accept their world. In our blood, which we have not forsaken, we have seen another and better world than Liberaldom.

The majority of the French people at the time of the French Revolution did not support the radicals who murdered the King, but the majority of French people had become grazers. They were indifferent to the ancient ideal of “I serve the King and the King serves Christ.” And no doubt the indifference of Louis XIV and Louis XV, not Louis XVI, to that ideal did much to breed the indifference. A small minority with conviction will always triumph over a majority of indolent grazers. This is why the polls constantly fool the conservatives. They take a poll among the grazers and find out that a majority favor older traditional values. “Behold!” the conservative exclaims, “We are turning the corner.” But the grazer is indifferent traditional. He would prefer his neighbor to be white, but he isn’t going to get upset if he is a Somalian; he doesn’t like the idea of homosexual marriage, but he isn’t going to lose any sleep over it so long as the network keeps showing football games. And on and on it goes. Has the white man really become such a creature of indolence that he can be played upon so easily by the liberals? Yes, he has become such a creature.

Virtually all white Europeans are liberals by what they acquiesce to. But liberalism still has only a minority of adherents who have given their hearts and souls to liberalism. If a European Hamlet emerges, he who has that within which passeth show, who is willing to attack liberalism, he will find that the walls of Liberaldom are not as impregnable as the liberals want us to believe. They are vulnerable to a passion for His Europe that is greater than their passion for Satan’s mind-forged walls of Liberaldom.

One of the many admirable aspects of Hamlet’s counter revolution was his complete unconcern as to whether the people, the grazers, were for or against him. He knew what his duty was and he did what his high calling demanded of him. We don’t know if any of the grazers will follow in our train if we attack Liberaldom, but by the same token we will never know if we don’t attack Liberaldom without any expectation of help from the grazers. There might be genuine heroes among the ranks of the grazers who are just in need of a heroic example. If the last Europeans do not act as Europeans they will truly be the last Europeans.

Last week I took my youngest children to an amusement park to enjoy the last rose of summer. While they were enjoying themselves on the rides, I ordered our hamburgers at the food stand. Ordering food at the same time were some liberal ‘care providers’ (liberals can always be identified) for a large group of retarded young adults and older adults. As the retarded people sat waiting for their food, they started yelling the f-word at each other. The care providers didn’t ask them to stop; in fact they seemed quite amused. I went up to the care providers and told them I wanted them to tell their charges to stop screaming the f-word as my children would soon be coming to eat their lunch at a nearby table. The care providers told me what was obvious, that their charges were retarded. Then they went on to explain that we all had to understand that retarded people had to be treated differently than other people; “we must make allowances” etc. But who teaches retarded people to yell the f-word across a crowded room? The liberal care providers do, by their smiling acquiescence. It is just as uncompassionate to allow retarded adults to wallow in moral filth as it is to allow them to sit in soiled diapers. I never remember retarded people screaming obscenities when I was growing up. They take their cue from their leaders.

The white grazers that I see every day remind me of those retarded people. They take their cue from the liberals and say and do horrendous things. But what if some Europeans would emerge and present a different example for the grazers to follow? Would miracles occur? We don’t know. But we do know that truth needs to be embodied in a person. He taught us that. The hero, not the solecism or the platitude, is the European bridge to His Kingdom come. +