Ydgrun and the Ydgrunites

In spite of all the to-do they make about their idols, and the temples they build, and the priests and priestesses whom they support, I could never think that their professed religion was more than skin-deep; but they had another which they carried with them into all their actions; and although no one from the outside of things would suspect it to have any existence at all, it was in reality their great guide, the mariner’s compass of their lives; so that there were very few things which they ever either did, or refrained from doing, without reference to its precepts.

Despite all the fuss they made about their idols, the temples they built, and the priests and priestesses they supported, I could never believe their professed religion was more than skin-deep. But they had another religion that guided everything they did. Although an outsider would never suspect it existed, it was their true guide, the compass of their lives. So there were very few things they did or refrained from doing without regard to its teachings.

Now I suspected that their professed faith had no great hold upon them—firstly, because I often heard the priests complain of the prevailing indifference, and they would hardly have done so without reason; secondly, because of the show which was made, for there was none of this about the worship of the goddess Ydgrun, in whom they really did believe; thirdly, because though the priests were constantly abusing Ydgrun as being the great enemy of the gods, it was well known that she had no more devoted worshippers in the whole country than these very persons, who were often priests of Ydgrun rather than of their own deities. Neither am I by any means sure that these were not the best of the priests.

I suspected that their professed faith did not mean much to them. First, I often heard the priests complain about the widespread indifference, and they would hardly have done so without reason. Second, there was all the show they made of their faith. There was none of this in the worship of the goddess Ydgrun, in whom they really did believe. Third, the priests constantly denounced Ydgrun as the great enemy of the gods. Yet it was well known that no one in the whole country worshipped her more devotedly than these very priests. They were often priests of Ydgrun rather than of their own gods. And I am by no means sure that these were not the best of the priests.

Ydgrun certainly occupied a very anomalous position; she was held to be both omnipresent and omnipotent, but she was not an elevated conception, and was sometimes both cruel and absurd. Even her most devoted worshippers were a little ashamed of her, and served her more with heart and in deed than with their tongues. Theirs was no lip service; on the contrary, even when worshipping her most devoutly, they would often deny her. Take her all in all, however, she was a beneficent and useful deity, who did not care how much she was denied so long as she was obeyed and feared, and who kept hundreds of thousands in those paths which make life tolerably happy, who would never have been kept there otherwise, and over whom a higher and more spiritual ideal would have had no power.

Ydgrun certainly held a very unusual position. She was believed to be everywhere and all-powerful, but she was not a lofty ideal. She was sometimes cruel and absurd. Even her most devoted worshippers were a little ashamed of her. They served her more in their hearts and actions than in their words. Theirs was no empty praise. On the contrary, even when worshipping her most devoutly, they would often deny her. All in all, however, she was a kind and useful goddess. She did not care how much people denied her, as long as they obeyed and feared her. She kept hundreds of thousands on paths that make life reasonably happy. They would never have stayed on those paths otherwise, and a higher, more spiritual ideal would have had no power over them.

I greatly doubt whether the Erewhonians are yet prepared for any better religion, and though (considering my gradually strengthened conviction that they were the representatives of the lost tribes of Israel) I would have set about converting them at all hazards had I seen the remotest prospect of success, I could hardly contemplate the displacement of Ydgrun as the great central object of their regard without admitting that it would be attended with frightful consequences; in fact were I a mere philosopher, I should say that the gradual raising of the popular conception of Ydgrun would be the greatest spiritual boon which could be conferred upon them, and that nothing could effect this except example. I generally found that those who complained most loudly that Ydgrun was not high enough for them had hardly as yet come up to the Ydgrun standard, and I often met with a class of men whom I called to myself “high Ydgrunites” (the rest being Ydgrunites, and low Ydgrunites), who, in the matter of human conduct and the affairs of life, appeared to me to have got about as far as it is in the right nature of man to go.

I greatly doubt that the Erewhonians are ready for any better religion. I had become increasingly convinced that they were the descendants of the lost tribes of Israel. So, if I had seen the slightest chance of success, I would have tried to convert them, whatever the risks. Yet I could hardly imagine replacing Ydgrun as the central object of their regard without admitting the terrible consequences. In fact, if I were merely a philosopher, I would say that gradually improving the popular idea of Ydgrun would be the greatest spiritual gift they could receive. And I would say that only example could bring this about. I generally found that those who complained most loudly that Ydgrun was not good enough for them had themselves hardly reached his standard. I also often met men whom I privately called “high Ydgrunites” (the others being Ydgrunites and low Ydgrunites). In their conduct and dealings with life, they seemed to me to have come about as far as human nature rightly can.

They were gentlemen in the full sense of the word; and what has one not said in saying this? They seldom spoke of Ydgrun, or even alluded to her, but would never run counter to her dictates without ample reason for doing so: in such cases they would override her with due self-reliance, and the goddess seldom punished them; for they are brave, and Ydgrun is not. They had most of them a smattering of the hypothetical language, and some few more than this, but only a few. I do not think that this language has had much hand in making them what they are; but rather that the fact of their being generally possessed of its rudiments was one great reason for the reverence paid to the hypothetical language itself.

They were gentlemen in the fullest sense of the word. What more can one say? They rarely spoke of Ydgrun or even mentioned her. But they would never defy her rules without good reason. When they had good reason, they confidently overrode her, and the goddess rarely punished them. For they are brave, and Ydgrun is not. Most knew a little of the hypothetical language, and a few knew more than that, but only a few. I do not think the language did much to make them what they are. Rather, most of them knew its basics, and this was a major reason why the hypothetical language itself was revered.

Being inured from youth to exercises and athletics of all sorts, and living fearlessly under the eye of their peers, among whom there exists a high standard of courage, generosity, honour, and every good and manly quality—what wonder that they should have become, so to speak, a law unto themselves; and, while taking an elevated view of the goddess Ydgrun, they should have gradually lost all faith in the recognised deities of the country? These they do not openly disregard, for conformity until absolutely intolerable is a law of Ydgrun, yet they have no real belief in the objective existence of beings which so readily explain themselves as abstractions, and whose personality demands a quasi-materialism which it baffles the imagination to realise. They keep their opinions, however, greatly to themselves, inasmuch as most of their countrymen feel strongly about the gods, and they hold it wrong to give pain, unless for some greater good than seems likely to arise from their plain speaking.

They have been accustomed to all kinds of exercise and athletics since youth. They live fearlessly under the watchful eyes of their peers, who hold courage, generosity, honor, and every good and manly quality in high regard. Is it any wonder that they have become, so to speak, a law unto themselves? They hold the goddess Ydgrun in high regard, yet they have gradually lost all faith in the country's recognized gods. They do not openly disregard those gods, for Ydgrun requires conformity until it becomes absolutely intolerable. Yet they do not really believe that these beings exist independently of human thought. The gods can so readily be explained as abstractions. And to imagine them as persons, one must give them a kind of material existence that the imagination cannot grasp. They keep their opinions largely to themselves, however, because most of their countrymen feel strongly about the gods. They believe it is wrong to cause pain unless doing so serves a greater good. And they see no such good likely to come from speaking plainly.

On the other hand, surely those whose own minds are clear about any given matter (even though it be only that there is little certainty) should go so far towards imparting that clearness to others, as to say openly what they think and why they think it, whenever they can properly do so; for they may be sure that they owe their own clearness almost entirely to the fact that others have done this by them: after all, they may be mistaken, and if so, it is for their own and the general well-being that they should let their error be seen as distinctly as possible, so that it may be more easily refuted. I own, therefore, that on this one point I disapproved of the practice even of the highest Ydgrunites, and objected to it all the more because I knew that I should find my own future task more easy if the high Ydgrunites had already undermined the belief which is supposed to prevail at present.

On the other hand, surely those who are clear in their own minds about a matter should help others see it clearly too. This applies even if they are clear only that there is little certainty. Whenever they can properly do so, they should say openly what they think and why. They can be sure that they owe their own clarity almost entirely to others who have done the same for them. After all, they may be mistaken. If so, it is best for them and everyone else to make their error as clear as possible, so that it can be more easily refuted. I admit, then, that on this one point I disapproved of the practice even of the highest Ydgrunites. I objected to it all the more because I knew my own future task would be easier if the high Ydgrunites had already undermined the belief that is supposed to prevail at present.

In other respects they were more like the best class of Englishmen than any whom I have seen in other countries. I should have liked to have persuaded half-a-dozen of them to come over to England and go upon the stage, for they had most of them a keen sense of humour and a taste for acting: they would be of great use to us. The example of a real gentleman is, if I may say so without profanity, the best of all gospels; such a man upon the stage becomes a potent humanising influence, an Ideal which all may look upon for a shilling.

In other ways, they were more like the best Englishmen than anyone I had seen in other countries. I would have liked to persuade half a dozen of them to come to England and act on the stage. Most had a sharp sense of humour and a taste for acting, so they would be very useful to us. If I may say so without being profane, the example of a true gentleman is the best of all gospels. On stage, such a man becomes a powerful influence for humanity, an ideal everyone can see for a shilling.

I always liked and admired these men, and although I could not help deeply regretting their certain ultimate perdition (for they had no sense of a hereafter, and their only religion was that of self-respect and consideration for other people), I never dared to take so great a liberty with them as to attempt to put them in possession of my own religious convictions, in spite of my knowing that they were the only ones which could make them really good and happy, either here or hereafter. I did try sometimes, being impelled to do so by a strong sense of duty, and by my deep regret that so much that was admirable should be doomed to ages if not eternity of torture; but the words stuck in my throat as soon as I began.

I always liked and admired these men, though I could not help deeply regretting their certain final damnation. They had no belief in an afterlife. Their only religion was self-respect and consideration for others. I knew that only my own religious beliefs could make them truly good and happy, either in this life or the next. Even so, I never dared to take the great liberty of trying to share those beliefs with them. I did try sometimes, driven by a strong sense of duty. I also deeply regretted that men with so much to admire were doomed to ages of torture, if not an eternity. But as soon as I began, the words stuck in my throat.

Whether a professional missionary might have a better chance I know not; such persons must doubtless know more about the science of conversion: for myself, I could only be thankful that I was in the right path, and was obliged to let others take their chance as yet. If the plan fails by which I propose to convert them myself, I would gladly contribute my mite towards the sending two or three trained missionaries, who have been known as successful converters of Jews and Mahometans; but such have seldom much to glory in the flesh, and when I think of the high Ydgrunites, and of the figure which a missionary would probably cut among them, I cannot feel sanguine that much good would be arrived at. Still the attempt is worth making, and the worst danger to the missionaries themselves would be that of being sent to the hospital where Chowbok would have been sent had he come with me into Erewhon.

I do not know whether a professional missionary would have a better chance. Such people must surely know more about the science of conversion. As for me, I could only be thankful that I was on the right path. For the time being, I had to let others take their chances. If my plan to convert them myself fails, I would gladly contribute my small share toward sending two or three trained missionaries. They should be missionaries known for successfully converting Jews and Mahometans. But such missionaries seldom have much to boast of in their physical appearance. I think of the high Ydgrunites and how a missionary would probably look among them. When I do, I cannot feel hopeful that much good would come of it. Still, the attempt is worth making. The worst danger to the missionaries themselves would be being sent to the hospital. That is where Chowbok would have been sent if he had come with me into Erewhon.

Taking then their religious opinions as a whole, I must own that the Erewhonians are superstitious, on account of the views which they hold of their professed gods, and their entirely anomalous and inexplicable worship of Ydgrun, a worship at once the most powerful, yet most devoid of formalism, that I ever met with; but in practice things worked better than might have been expected, and the conflicting claims of Ydgrun and the gods were arranged by unwritten compromises (for the most part in Ydgrun’s favour), which in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred were very well understood.

Taking their religious beliefs as a whole, I must admit that the Erewhonians are superstitious. This is because of their views about the gods they profess to worship, and their entirely strange and inexplicable worship of Ydgrun. I had never encountered a form of worship so powerful, yet so free of formal rituals. But in practice, things worked better than one might have expected. The conflicting claims of Ydgrun and the gods were settled by unwritten compromises, mostly in Ydgrun’s favor. These compromises were well understood in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred.

I could not conceive why they should not openly acknowledge high Ydgrunism, and discard the objective personality of hope, justice, &c.; but whenever I so much as hinted at this, I found that I was on dangerous ground. They would never have it; returning constantly to the assertion that ages ago the divinities were frequently seen, and that the moment their personality was disbelieved in, men would leave off practising even those ordinary virtues which the common experience of mankind has agreed on as being the greatest secret of happiness. “Who ever heard,” they asked, indignantly, “of such things as kindly training, a good example, and an enlightened regard to one’s own welfare, being able to keep men straight?” In my hurry, forgetting things which I ought to have remembered, I answered that if a person could not be kept straight by these things, there was nothing that could straighten him, and that if he were not ruled by the love and fear of men whom he had seen, neither would he be so by that of the gods whom he had not seen.

I could not understand why they would not openly acknowledge high Ydgrunism and give up the belief that hope, justice, and so on were real beings. But whenever I even hinted at this, I found myself on dangerous ground. They would not hear of it. They kept insisting that the divinities had often been seen long ago. They also insisted that, once people stopped believing the divinities were real beings, they would stop practicing even ordinary virtues. Common human experience had agreed that these virtues were the greatest secret of happiness. “Who ever heard,” they asked indignantly, “of kind upbringing, a good example, and an enlightened concern for one’s own welfare being able to keep people on the right path?” In my haste, I forgot things I should have remembered. I answered that if these things could not keep a person on the right path, nothing could. And if he was not governed by love and fear of people he had seen, neither would he be governed by love and fear of gods he had not seen.

At one time indeed I came upon a small but growing sect who believed, after a fashion, in the immortality of the soul and the resurrection from the dead; they taught that those who had been born with feeble and diseased bodies and had passed their lives in ailing, would be tortured eternally hereafter; but that those who had been born strong and healthy and handsome would be rewarded for ever and ever. Of moral qualities or conduct they made no mention.

Once I came across a small but growing sect. Its members believed, in a fashion, in the immortality of the soul and resurrection from the dead. They taught that people born weak and sickly, who had spent their lives in poor health, would be tortured forever after death. But those born strong, healthy, and handsome would be rewarded forever and ever. They said nothing about moral qualities or conduct.

Bad as this was, it was a step in advance, inasmuch as they did hold out a future state of some sort, and I was shocked to find that for the most part they met with opposition, on the score that their doctrine was based upon no sort of foundation, also that it was immoral in its tendency, and not to be desired by any reasonable beings.

Bad as this was, it was a step forward, because they did offer some kind of life after death. I was shocked to find that they mostly faced opposition. People argued that their doctrine had no foundation, that it encouraged immoral behavior, and that no reasonable beings would want it.

When I asked how it could be immoral, I was answered, that if firmly held, it would lead people to cheapen this present life, making it appear to be an affair of only secondary importance; that it would thus distract men’s minds from the perfecting of this world’s economy, and was an impatient cutting, so to speak, of the Gordian knot of life’s problems, whereby some people might gain present satisfaction to themselves at the cost of infinite damage to others; that the doctrine tended to encourage the poor in their improvidence, and in a debasing acquiescence in ills which they might well remedy; that the rewards were illusory and the result, after all, of luck, whose empire should be bounded by the grave; that its terrors were enervating and unjust; and that even the most blessed rising would be but the disturbing of a still more blessed slumber.

When I asked how it could be immoral, I was told that a firm belief in it would make people value this life less. It would make this life seem only a secondary concern. It would distract people from improving how this world is run. It was, so to speak, an impatient cutting of the Gordian knot of life’s problems. Some people might gain satisfaction now at the cost of infinite harm to others. The doctrine also tended to encourage the poor to be reckless and to accept hardships they could well remedy. Such acceptance was degrading. Its rewards were illusions and depended, after all, on luck, whose rule should end at the grave. Its terrors were weakening and unjust. Even the most blessed rising would merely disturb an even more blessed sleep.

To all which I could only say that the thing had been actually known to happen, and that there were several well-authenticated instances of people having died and come to life again—instances which no man in his senses could doubt.

To all this, I could only say that it had actually happened. There were several well-documented cases of people who had died and come back to life. No one in their right mind could doubt those cases.

“If this be so,” said my opponent, “we must bear it as best we may.”

“If that is so,” said my opponent, “we must endure it as best we can.”

I then translated for him, as well as I could, the noble speech of Hamlet in which he says that it is the fear lest worse evils may befall us after death which alone prevents us from rushing into death’s arms.

I then translated Hamlet’s noble speech for him as best I could. In it, Hamlet says that only fear of worse evils after death keeps us from rushing into death’s arms.

“Nonsense,” he answered, “no man was ever yet stopped from cutting his throat by any such fears as your poet ascribes to him—and your poet probably knew this perfectly well. If a man cuts his throat he is at bay, and thinks of nothing but escape, no matter whither, provided he can shuffle off his present. No. Men are kept at their posts, not by the fear that if they quit them they may quit a frying-pan for a fire, but by the hope that if they hold on, the fire may burn less fiercely. ‘The respect,’ to quote your poet, ‘that makes calamity of so long a life,’ is the consideration that though calamity may live long, the sufferer may live longer still.”

“Nonsense,” he answered, “no man has ever been stopped from cutting his throat by the fears your poet attributes to him. Your poet probably knew that perfectly well. If a man cuts his throat, he is cornered and thinks only of escape. He does not care where he escapes to, as long as he can leave his present life behind. No. Men stay at their posts not because they fear jumping from the frying pan into the fire if they leave. They stay because they hope that, if they hold on, the fire may burn less fiercely. To quote your poet, ‘the thought that makes calamity last so long’ is this: though calamity may live long, the sufferer may live even longer.”

On this, seeing that there was little probability of our coming to an agreement, I let the argument drop, and my opponent presently left me with as much disapprobation as he could show without being overtly rude.

Seeing that we were unlikely to agree, I dropped the argument. My opponent soon left me, showing as much disapproval as he could without being openly rude.