Cambria Will Not Yield

Friday, November 25, 2011

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-20th 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 20th and 21st 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. +

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Friday, November 18, 2011

Yet Death Cannot Our Hearts Divide

And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of men builded. And the LORD said, Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do. – Genesis 11: 5-6

I once read, with growing horror as I progressed in my reading, an article by a Jansenist priest who professed to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Martin Luther was in hell. Anyone with even a modicum of Christianity in their soul (which would exclude Dante) knows that we are permitted – nay we are enjoined – to make judgments here on earth about the nature of good and evil. But the final judgment of souls, Christians believe, is left to God.

I include that rather basic Christian tenet as a preface to this post in order to make it clear that when I use words such as ‘condemn’ and ‘judge’ it is in the traditional Christian sense; I am condemning actions and individuals whom I believe to be evil, but the final disposition of their souls rests with God. I wish that I could say that I had never, even for a moment, wished one of my enemies in hell. I can’t say that though, because there have been such moments, but when the darkness lifts I realize such ultimate judgments belong to Him alone. Having issued that disclaimer, let me proceed to the subject of these wars.

By what right do the liberals or the halfway house Christians condemn the football coach recently accused of sodomizing young children? As an antique European I can condemn him, because his actions are considered sinful when judged by antique European standards (1). But how can the liberals and their New Age Christian allies condemn a child molester? There is no such thing as a sex crime in Babylon. For a liberal to draw back from that obvious tenet of Babylon is a monumental act of hypocrisy. What did Jerry Sandusky do that was not in keeping with the ethos of Babylon? Is sodomy a sin in Babylon? No, it is not. Is sex with children a sin in Babylon? No it is not; the liberals start sex education classes in kindergarten. Is Sandusky being condemned because the sex was not consensual? It appears that it was. And please, Mr. Liberal, don’t tell me that a child can’t decide those things for himself when you hand out contraceptives to children like candy and you provide abortions for them without obtaining their parents’ consent. And if it wasn’t consensual? So what? Wasn’t Sandusky simply ‘breaking another taboo’? And isn’t that always a good thing? How can we progress toward paradise on earth if courageous men like Jerry Sandusky do not break down antiquated moral barriers put in place by older Europeans who did not worship the idols of Babylon? Liberals are forever condemning their own children because they do not act according to the liberals’ preferred vision of Babylon. Just as they condemned Hitler for preferring his Aryan version of Babylon to their wine-and-cheese-party Babylon, they have condemned Sandusky for not adhering to their homosexual ideal, where a man has one significant other for a time and then moves on to another significant other, just like the heterosexual liberals. But Sandusky didn’t conform to the liberals’ ideal. He preferred young boys to adult males. Who in Liberaldom dares to condemn him? They all do, but they have no right to do so.

The liberals even have the audacity to talk about the loss of innocence! Every liberal program for “children” is designed to destroy their innocence. Our public schools and the mainstream private schools are cesspools of debauchery. No child comes out of such bastions of Liberaldom with a shred of innocence. The liberals will now insist that what the sports charities need is more state supervision. But how can degenerate, inhuman monsters be the moral arbiters of what is good for children? They have already told us what they consider good for children: children must be brought up to take their place in Babylon. In order to do that they must learn to hate white people, because white people once oppressed the human race, and to adore the new multi-colored (minus the white) Babylonian world in which there is no sin but racism and sexism. When the liberal condemns the Jerry Sanduskys of Babylon he is exhibiting a remnant strain of Christianity. In time, if no Europeans stand against Babylon, even the man-boy activities of such degenerates as Jerry Sandusky will be sanctioned. Just give the Babylonians time and much worse crimes than Jerry Sandusky’s will become part of the fabric of everyday life in Babylon. Actually I should cancel the future tense; much worse crimes than Jerry Sandusky’s are already part of the fabric of modern Babylon.

It is my belief that the Christian churches joined with organized Jewry to usher in the age of Babylon. The Jews, after being marginalized by the people who embraced the Messiah they rejected, became a people whose central tenet of faith was the hatred of the white European. In keeping with their central tenet they encouraged race-mixing among the Europeans in order to fuse Christianity with paganism, which always leads to the death of Christianity. When the Europeans became part of organized Jewry and began to hate their European ancestors they fused their faith and their race with the colored tribes. It is truly remarkable, considering the transfigured Christ came down to earth to condemn the building of the tower of Babel, that professed Christians should condemn sodomy on the one hand (which God also came down to earth to condemn) and on the other hand accept the first step toward institutionalized sodomy, which is race-mixing, for once we defy God’s order in one instance we will defy Him in other instances as well.

In the civil rights movements in this country during the 1950’s and 1960’s we frequently heard Christian pastors push race-mixing as the Christian thing to do. But are such pastors really Christians? I don’t think so, for a number of reasons.

1) The so-called Christian pastors do not take the Biblical injunctions against race-mixing seriously. They interpret the Bible mythically and feel free to ignore it as true history.

2) Their new Christianity is based on hate. While they are preaching love for the “oppressed” colored races they spew out hatred for the white race. This is in stark contrast to the Christian segregationists such as Thomas Nelson Page. If we read his commentaries on the Negro for instance, we do not find hatred for the negro in his writings. We do find, in the new age Christians’ commentaries about white people, vehement hatred of the white on every page. Now the “Christian” pastors would tell us that is because the white is evil and the colored races are good. But that is the point. Is it Christian to ascribe all evil to one race?

3) The anti-Christian Christian pastors have no concern for truth. Can there be faith without truth? Our Lord did not think so. The civil rights pastors (and we know that civil rights means race-mixing) don’t care to look at the results of racial equality in Haiti or race-mixing in Mexico. In Haiti racial equality turned into black domination and the extermination of the whites. In Mexico race-mixing allowed the Aztecs to reconquer Mexico. When the colored pagan mixes with the white Christian, a Christian society is not the result. Instead we see a gradual transformation from a Christian society to a pagan society. And please don’t repeat the hackneyed argument that the pure and noble coloreds will regenerate the decadent white race. Most Europeans are post-Christian pagans, but their regeneration will not come, if it comes at all, by mixing with the colored races. Then there will be no white race from which to launch a counter-attack. If everyone is a mixed-race Babylonian, there will be no light, no vision of the European Christ to look to for our salvation. And truth be told, which is the solemn duty of the Christian, there is a remnant band of Europeans who have not bent their knees to Baal. Their vision needs to be followed, not obliterated or watered down by the colored races.

4) Where there is no humanity there is no God. I worked one summer, during my college days, at an inner city camp for boys. Since most of the campers were going to be black, a white social worker was sent from the local university to tell the counselors, who were predominantly white, how to be nice to black children. (2) The hard-eyed social worker told us that it was very important not to force the black children to abandon their neighborhood pals or their brothers in the name of some group activity. “These bonds of neighborhood and family are very important to a black child’s self-esteem,” the Ph.D. intoned. I was hardly a white separatist at the time, but I did ask the obvious question: “Should we encourage the same solidarity amongst the white boys who come to camp?” The answer was quite illuminating. “I don’t care about white boys.” But shouldn’t someone care about white boys? I do, because they are my people, and I don’t want to be wiser than my ancestors and become part of a Babylonian world where there are no close ties between kith and kin because nobody has any recognizable kith or kin.

To date there has only been one fully human race. The other races have yet to become fully human. Yes, they care about their own, but they do not love their own as the Europeans once loved their own. God’s spies, the European poets, who are the true chroniclers of European history, have shown us that to be fully human a man needs the depth of feeling that comes only from an attachment to a particular people and a personal God who sustains those people. How did Scott put it?

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!

What kind of world will it be when whites mix their blood with the colored races? It will be a world of dead souls.

The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

What kind of man condemns his children to a life without a connection to a particular people where they can learn, through their attachment to kith and kin, how to love the living God? A man without honor, a man who hates his own people so much that he wants to kill his kith and kin by eradicating every trace of their blood lines in the cesspools of Babylon.

Once, in a conversation with a traditionalist priest, I expressed, or tried to express, my love for the older European culture. The priest took particular pleasure in informing me that the Europe I loved didn’t exist anymore. I thought that was a rather odd comment coming from a man who was supposed to believe in Christ’s resurrection from the dead. Of course I knew that the modern European people had turned their back on Europe. I wasn’t living in a cave for thirty years, reading only books by Walter Scott. The Christian reveres that which leads him to Christ. A man who knows the heart of old Europe will know the heart of Christ. Nothing eternal dies. If I unite my heart and soul to the ancient Europeans who rest in the arms of the Lord, then Christian Europe still lives on this earth. And one faithful soul will breathe life into another faithful soul, and so it will go on till Christ returns. There is never a good reason to cease the fight for antique Europe.

We know that the struggle availeth because the devil still attacks the European. Even though there does not seem to be the slightest possibility of a European revival, the devil is afraid that the Europeans might once again call on His name and rise and ride. Why else would he order his minions to intensify their assault on white people?

Over the years I’ve seen so many friends and acquaintances who I thought were strong in their faith and committed to old Europe heart and soul succumb to the lure of Babylon. And when I look back on those “friends” – now enemies – I can see their tragic flaw. They had an intellectual commitment to certain philosophical and theological principles, but they didn’t love the people of antique Europe and the civilization they built. They saw the European past with only their minds, not their hearts. Without a heartfelt love for Europe to sustain them, they succumbed to the siren call of Babylon.

Ultimately I cannot understand the Europeans who betray their blood. I know they exist in legions, but there is nothing inside of me that I can draw on to understand them. Do they have hearts of stone? Does not the beauty, the spiritual beauty of antique Europe, move them in the very depths of their souls? Don’t they have children they want to grow up loving the culture in which He resides? It’s the mystery of iniquity. The devil saw Christ with, not through, the eye, and consequently he saw only an archrival. We few, we Europeans, who see through the eye shall go, not once more unto the breach, but unto the breach again and again, until His Kingdom come. +


(1) I don’t know whether Sandusky is a child rapist or child molester, but in either case the immoral monsters of Liberaldom have no right to condemn him. He is their child.

(2) Most of the black counselors were fired because they beat the children.

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Friday, November 11, 2011

The Homing Instinct

I am dreaming of the mountains of my home,
Of the mountains where in childhood I would roam.
I have dwelt ‘neath summer skies,
Where the summer never dies,
But my heart is in the mountains of my home.

I can see the little homestead on the hill;
I can hear the magic music of the rill;
There is nothing to compare,
With the love that once was there,
In that lonely little homestead on the hill.

I can see the quiet churchyard down below,
Where the mountain breezes wander to and fro,
And when God my soul will keep,
It is there I want to sleep,
With those dear old folks that loved me long ago.

-- W S Gwynne Williams


As a confused undergraduate, desperately concerned about the existence or nonexistence of God, I sought out a Roman Catholic priest who taught courses at the university. I went to him because I had read one of his books in which he indicated he believed in the Christian God in a non-modern sense as defined in the Apostle’s Creed. During a lengthy conversation we touched on many aspects of this thing called faith. He shared his thoughts with me, and I told him of my perplexities. I still, after forty years, remember his response when I asked him what he found to be the biggest obstacle to faith. With a look of intense pain on his face he said, “There are so few signs.” The New Testament passage about an evil and adulterous generation which seeketh a sign did not occur to me then, and if it had I would not have applied it to that man, because he was kind to me.

After that first lengthy meeting I only saw my priestly friend in passing. After I graduated I didn’t see him again for ten years. He was still teaching at the university, and I was on campus to participate in a kind of religious roundtable discussion in which my friend was also a participant. He greeted me warmly, and I told him what I had been doing, placing particular emphasis on my conversion to Christianity and my membership in his church. He said he was delighted and that he too had taken a spiritual journey in the last ten years. I didn’t quite know what he meant and before I could ask for clarification the roundtable discussion began.

I knew before the discussion started that I would be facing a sneering group of former clerics and intellectual something-or-others who would be united in their sneering ridicule of the simple faith that set Europe ablaze in times past. But I knew I would have one ally, the friend of 10 years ago. I pictured us fighting back to back, like Will Starrett and Shane, against an army of sneering academics. It didn’t turn out as I expected. My believing friend had become a member of the sneering intelligentsia. I had to shift scenarios; instead of Shane and Will Starrett fighting against difficult odds I was the disinherited knight fighting against impossible odds. I didn’t acquit myself very well, frequently losing my train of thought and stumbling with my responses to the panel of sneering atheists.

Much to my surprise, my “good friend” came up to me afterwards and acted like we were ever the best of friends. It was all just a fun, scintillating discussion to him. Not so with me. I come from Welsh coal miners and German farmers who believed that a man who insults your faith is not your friend. I did not hit the man as my ancestors would have, but I did walk out without shaking hands or pretending we were all educated men who could forget our differences over something as silly as the Resurrection of Christ and still get along just swimmingly.

I’ve had many years to think about the old priest’s apostasy and I’ve formed some definite opinions on the subject. I think the old priest’s statement, “There are so few signs,” was an indication of a man teetering on the brink. Man is a social animal. He tends to conform to the values of his peers. The old priest had spent most of his life in academic circles, which is probably why he yearned for a sign; he needed something to buttress up a faith that was beginning to erode. I spent three hours with the academics he saw every day, and my faith was reeling after contact with such people. I needed to go home and reconnect with Walter Scott’s Europe before I felt cleansed of the academic disease. Little wonder then that the once firm-in-his-faith priest succumbed to sneering liberalism.

“Thy honourable metal may be wrought
From that it is dispos’d; therefore it is meet
That noble minds keep ever with their likes:
For who so firm that cannot be seduc’d?”

Who so firm? No one is. Over the years I’ve seen such a falling off of friends. There was the Southern segregationist who, once removed from his native land, ended up marrying a black girl. A fire-brand of a fundamentalist who went to California and became a free love advocate. Then there was the “good” Italian Catholic girl who left her husband, my friend, for another woman. In my mind’s eye I can still see them all, and it’s not a pretty sight.

The liberals and the halfway house Christians are fond of telling people like me, who write about the moral gulf between old Europe and modern Europe, that every sin known to man existed in old Europe just as it does now. And that is true; but we must make two distinctions. First, the antique Europeans did not deny that they were sinners. When they committed adultery they called it sin; when a woman killed her child, she was called a murderess. And the second distinction is like unto the first. When a man or woman sinned they were not supported by their peers; they were shunned. For instance, in antique Europe if a man was addicted to sodomy he had no support system. He knew if he couldn’t control his sinful desires then he must confine them to secret places where the outcast men dwelt. And repentance was possible, because if a man persisted in his sin he knew he lost the fellowship of his fellow men, just as Scrooge cast himself into greed-forged isolation by his illicit love of money. The sinner could be reclaimed, because there was a world beckoning to him in which people believed there was a such a thing as sin. Not so today. I remember a congressman in the not-too-distant past who was, in addition to being a congressman, a columnist for a conservative Catholic magazine. He got caught in a homosexual tryst. Not something unusual, such things happened in Old Europe as well. But what followed was completely modern. The congressmen, after first expressing contrition, ended up becoming a member of a Catholic homosexual organization (I believe it was called Dignity) which claimed homosexual acts were sanctioned by God. And therein is the great difference between our current Western society and antique Europe. Miscegenation, infanticide, sodomy, and academic atheism all existed in old Europe, but such things were not sanctioned by society. Virtue was encouraged and sin was discouraged in old Europe by labeling sin as sin and by socially ostracizing the unrepentant sinner and the advocates of sin. Today a sinner is lauded and told he is virtuous. He has a support system for his sin. Miscegenation becomes “striking a blow against prejudice,” infanticide becomes “a woman’s choice,” sexual promiscuity becomes “free love,” and institutionalized blasphemy becomes “liberalism.” Who is so firm that cannot be seduced in such a society? Only the prejudiced, intransigent Europeans will survive, those who cling to an older segregated Europe with the ferocity of Ratty in The Wind in the Willows:

The River,” corrected the Rat.

“And you really live by the river? What a jolly life!”

“By it and with it and on it and in it,” said the Rat. “It’s brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It’s my world, and I don’t want any other. What it hasn’t got is not worth having, and what it doesn’t know is not worth knowing.”

And even he was almost seduced away from his European river by the siren call of exotic foreign climes.

"Why, where are you off to, Ratty?” asked the Mole in great surprise, grasping him by the arm.

“Going South, with the rest of them,” murmured the Rat in a dreamy monotone, never looking at him.

“Seawards first and then on shipboard, and so to the shores that are calling me!”
He pressed resolutely forward, still without haste, but with dogged fixity of purpose; but the Mole, now thoroughly alarmed, placed himself in front of him, and looking into his eyes saw that they were glazed and set and turned a streaked and sifting grey—not his friend’s eyes, but the eyes of some other animal! Grappling with him strongly he dragged him inside, threw him down, and held him.

The Rat struggled desperately for a few moments, and then his strength seemed suddenly to leave him, and he lay still and exhausted, with closed eyes, trembling. Presently the Mole assisted him to rise and placed him in a chair, where he sat collapsed and shrunken into himself, his body shaken by a violent shivering, passing in time into an hysterical fit of dry sobbing. Mole made the door fast, threw the satchel into a drawer and locked it, and sat down quietly on the table by his friend, waiting for the strange seizure to pass. Gradually the Rat sank into a troubled doze, broken by starts and confused murmurings of things strange and wild and foreign to the unenlightened Mole; and from that he passed into a deep slumber.

He was brought back to his senses, to his instinctual love of his home and his people by the “unenlightened” Mole. And he in turn, along with the Badger and the Mole, brought the Toad back to an appreciation of his ancestral home. So long as something of the homing instinct is alive in a white man, he can be reclaimed by the fidelity of other whites. If he can’t be reclaimed it’s because propositional Christianity and the lure of the exotic peoples and exotic lands have killed his homing instincts. A friend once told me about a white nationalist rally he attended. A white male sat up front and held hands with a black girl while the main speaker talked about the necessity of segregation and the preservation of the white race. As it became obvious that the interracial couple were there to make a statement, the speaker stopped his talk and addressed them. He asked them if they thought there was anything wrong with race-mixing. Of course the couple replied that there wasn’t anything wrong with it. It was sanctioned by love, and what could be wrong with love? Now the speaker could have responded as Princess Flavia responded to Rudolf Rassendyll in Prisoner of Zenda:

“Is love the only thing?” she asked, in low, sweet tones that seemed to bring a calm even to my wrung heart. “If love were the only thing I could follow you—in rags, if need be—to the world’s end; for you hold my heart in the hollow of your hand! But is love the only thing?”

I made her no answer. It gives me shame now to think that I would not help her.

She came near me and laid her hand on my shoulder. I put my hand up and held hers.

“I know people write and talk as if it were. Perhaps, for some, Fate lets it be. Ah, if I were one of them! But if love had been the only thing you would have let the king die in his cell.”

I kissed her hand.

“Honor binds a woman, too, Rudolf. My honor lies in being true to my country and my House.”

But that would have given a European dignity to the couple that they did not deserve. What the speaker did say was that there was nothing to be said to the young couple. They had no instinctive horror about what they were doing, so there was nothing that any white man could say to convince the degenerate couple nothing good stems from a betrayal of kith and kin.

Race-mixing is an abortion of the white race. Liberals have decided that the white race deserves to perish because it was sexist, racist, and Christian. No matter how far the modern white moves away from his ancestors, the liberal still wants him destroyed because of his past history. The white grazer might be spared for a time if he complies with the dictates of the liberals, but in the end the grazer will be killed with the last Europeans. Or so the liberals purpose. Their triumph is not mathematically certain, because the grace of God exists. European civilization was the result of a marriage between the European people and Christ. Liberaldom was built when the Europeans divorced Christ and married Satan. The second marriage can be annulled, and if it is annulled it will be because the European’s homing instinct became stronger than the siren call of Babylon. But there must be a home for the prodigal European to return home to. It is the task of the hero to stay wedded to the European hearth fire and never yield his place or waver in his devotion until His God calls him home.

How can the remnant band of Europeans remain faithful unto death when they have no support system? How can they avoid the fate of that apostate priest who made a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde transformation from a Christian to a sneering academic? They can remain faithful by staying close to their kith and kin who have left this world but live in His eternal Europe. The death-in-life existence of the modern Europeans is not life. Their life, the ancient Europeans of Christian Europe, is the genuine life; it is life eternal. The communion of the saints is not mumbo-jumbo. Where two or three are gathered together in His name… There is a legion of Europeans gathered in His name who are willing to sustain us in our day of battle against the liberals and their colored gods. If God and His legions of saints are for us who can be against us? I don’t want to minimize the feeling of God-forsakenness that envelops a man when he tries to adhere to the code of the ancient Europeans without the support of his peers. But at the same time I must emphasize that the bond of love and affection that can exist, if a man stays connected to the antique Europeans and their God, is something that can sustain a man as he walks through the valley of the shadow of Babylon.

Le Fanu is right. The devil approaches the citadel of a man’s heart by stealth, “with many zigzags and parallels.” Satan did not, at first, ask the European to give up his faith. He walked right in the church door preaching a new, a purer Christianity, devoid of racism and superstition. And once the initial betrayal is made, the betrayal of kith and kin, a man is primed for the next betrayal and the next, until a man becomes, as my old friend the apostate priest became, a sneering academic, one of Satan’s own.

We live amongst an evil and adulterous generation of men who laugh in derision at the old faith, asking us, “Why, if your God is the true God is there no sign? Why does He not come down off the cross and punish us and save you?” But we have been given a sign, the sign of the cross.

In a black Mass, I am told, the satanic devotees worship an inverted cross. Isn’t that the essence of liberalism? Christianity is still preached, but it is an inverted Christianity. Pope John XXIII forgives non-repentant, black, torture-murderers for the sins they committed, not against him, but against others. The liberals offer up other whites as an atonement, not for the sins of liberals, but for the sins of the racist, white people of the past. And the definition of sin itself has been inverted. Only one race and one sex within that race has the taint of original sin. Is such a faith the Christian faith? To be young again is not permitted in the natural world, but in the realm of the spirit we can become young again. We can rescind the first betrayal and return to our ancestral European home and clean out the stoats and the weasels that have overrun it.

“God of our fathers, be the God
Of their succeeding race!” +

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