A long and very carefully written letter from an unknown gentleman who signs himself “Retired Professor” has recently reached me. ¶ The Great Obscure favor me quite often with anonymous epistles, but life being short and the wastebasket wide, I seldom reply. Yet now an exception must be made, and I answer “Retired Professor” for the sole and simple reason that he has “retired,” and in retiring has made the world his debtor. Probably no one act of this man’s entire life has been so potent for good as this. He has set all Professors without humor a most precious precedent. ¶ In gratitude, hoping that his example will bear fruit, I reply. ¶ Did space permit I should be glad to print my correspondent’s letter entire, but the gist of his scholarly argument is that the Society of the Philistines is endeavoring to make free-thought universal and paganism popular. He stoutly avers that the ancient Philistines were the enemies of Jehovah, that they worshiped strange gods, and that they were the sworn foes of the Chosen People. ¶ Now this is the sad part: he proves his case. The gentleman explains that he would not have seen The Philistine Magazine had not his daughter, “an unmarried lady of thirty-two,” purchased several copies; but from this on, with his permission, no more numbers of this “infidelic infernal machine” shall enter his house ❦ My heart goes out to all unmarried ladies of thirty-two. Especially so when they have fathers who are irascible; only one worse fate can befall a woman of thirty-two than to have an irascible father, and that is to have a lover who is irate. Still I doubt me not that the daughter of “Retired Professor” will find a way to read The Philistine, for booklets laugh at locksmiths! ¶ Yet, ignorance prevails, for is not “Retired Professor” living proof? And so I will say: There lived in the Far East about three thousand years ago a tribe of people known as Philistines ❦ It is a hotly mooted question among the theologians whether they were so called because they lived in Philistia or whether Philistia took its name on account of being peopled by Philistines. I will not take sides on this issue, but hedge closely and simply stand firm on the fact that a tribe called the Philistines existed ❦ Near them lived the Hivites, the Moabites, the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Jebusites, the Perizzites, the Ammonites and the Gothamites ❦ Now, among these tribes none was so strong, none so intelligent, none so handsome, none so virtuous as the Philistines. And it came to pass that the superior quality of moral fiber in the Philistines caused the entire country to be known as Philistia; it was the general name given to the whole valley of the Jordan. And the name endures even unto this day. ¶ Palestine means the land of the Philistines. And it seems that among them there was a rude sense of right and wrong. For if a man owned a piece of ground and planted a vine on it, and then watered and tended the vine, the grapes that grew on this vine were his, and all of the people agreed to this, and the man and his neighbors knew all this without a Dispensation ❦ These people planted vineyards, and had gardens, and fields of wheat and barley. They had barns with threshing-floors; and they had carts, plows and other implements. They builded houses and owned their homes; and the men loved their wives and their children; and the women were the comrades of the men—all taking part in the sports as well as in the work, for they were a merry, happy people ❦ Now, about thirteen centuries before the Christian Era, while they were living in peace and prosperity, there swooped down upon them a horde of escaped slaves, called Israelites ❦ These slaves had broken away from their masters in Egypt. The country to which they traveled was only about three hundred miles from Egypt; but as their average speed was less than a mile a week, it took them forty years to make the journey. ¶ The man who led these slaves in their flight was one Moses, who in a righteous cause had killed a man in Egypt and fled. After many years of exile, during which time he had been in Philistia and liked it, he returned and led the exodus. When the Israelites left, they took all the gold and silver ornaments and utensils they could “borrow,” and melted them up. And they were not ashamed of this act, for they have written it down in the third chapter of a book called Exodus. ¶ The ancient Israelites never had any clear ideas as to the rights of property. When they found grapes growing on a vine, they helped themselves and swore that the fruit was theirs by Divine right. In order to impress this ignorant, barbaric horde with the sense of authority, Moses, who was diplomatic as well as good, told the people that God directed him and that Deity told him what to do and say. Moses used to go up on a mountain, clear above the clouds, beyond where the mists hover, and when he came down the people asked him what he had been up there for, and he told them he went up there to see God. ¶ In no other way could Moses control this restless mob except by saying, God says so and so. And the fact that their leader was on such good terms with Elohim or Yahveh inflated these people so that they always spoke of themselves as “the Chosen People of God.” In fact, they took it all in and were so vain and boastful that Moses was often ashamed of them ❦ The Jebusites, the Hittites and the Moabites never referred to the Israelites as the Chosen People of God. No one called them the Chosen People of God—only they themselves. And I wish to say right here that the individual who does a great and magnificent work is on close and friendly terms with God. He is the Son of God, and it is necessary that he should feel this kinship in order to do his work. From Moses, the called of God, on up to Socrates, who listened to the Demon, to George Fox, who harkened to the Voice, to the prophets of our own time, all lie low in the Lord’s hand and listen closely ere they act. A man is strong only when he feels that he is backed by a Power, not his own, that makes for Righteousness. So Moses was not guilty of falsehood; but the people who took him literally put him in a wrong light. ¶ When I think of those brave souls, the Saviors of the World, who have sought to lead men out of the captivity of evil—feeling and knowing that they were the Sons of God—I stand uncovered ❦ But a mass of people—a crowd, a mob—that claims to be a “Chosen People” is a sight to make angels weep. “You can not indict a class,” said Macaulay; corporations have no souls, and a horde that claims to be inspired is only a howling, cowardly Thing ❦ Great men are ever lonely and live apart, but birds of a feather flock together because they are afraid to flock alone. They want warmth and protection—they are afraid. A mob is the quintessence of cowardice—a dirty, mad, hydra-headed monster, that one good valiant Saint George can thrust to the heart. When a mob speaks I say, Vox populi, vox devil! ¶ At the time the Israelites tumbled pellmell upon the Philistines, Moses had long been dead. The mob was without a leader, and quarrel was rife amid its broken ranks. In a mad rush they stampeded the herds of the Philistines, scattered their flocks, destroyed their gardens, and as excuse they shouted, We are the Chosen People of God! And one of their Poets sang a song, which runs thus: “Moab is my washpot; over Philistia will I cast my shoe.” This only made the Philistines laugh, and although the Israelites outnumbered them, they went at it and scattered them. Finally, after long years of warfare, the fight was called a draw, and the Jews settled down and following the good example of the Philistines made themselves homes. ¶ Of course, as sane men and women, we of today do not suppose that the great Universal Intelligence that holds the world in the hollow of His hand had much interest in the fight. If this intelligence were a Being, I can imagine Him looking over the battlement of Heaven and turning with a weary smile to Gabriel, saying: “Let ’em fight—what boots it! They will all be dead tomorrow, anyway.” ¶ It is a noteworthy fact that in the first chapter of the Gospel of Saint Matthew the Inspired Writer traces the genealogy of Jesus direct to the Philistines. In the sixth verse we find “David begat Solomon of her who had been the wife of Uriah.” Back of this is Ruth the Moabitess, who was the grandmother of David. There is no such thing as tracing a pure Jewish lineage back to the time of Moses ❦ The Jews went a-courting as soon as they arrived on the borders of Canaan; and the heathen quite fancied the Israelitish women from the first. ¶ In the Book of Ruth, first chapter and fourth verse, I see, “And they took them wives out of the country of Moab.” The houses of Capulet and Montague have ever intermarried—it seems a quiet way Nature has of playing a little joke. And after a painstaking study of the matter I am fully convinced that the many sterling qualities in the Jew are derived from his Philistine ancestry. No one doubts that Solomon was the wisest man that ever lived. His mother was a Philistine. Now, no man is ever greater than his mother, and it is very plain that the great wisdom of Solomon was derived from this pagan woman whose body and spirit nourished him, in whose loving arms he was cradled, and whose intellect first fired his aspiration. ¶ This is all made plainer yet when we remember that David had many sons by Jewish women, and that all of these sons were positively no good—and some of them very, very bad ❦ The facts are found in the Second Book of Samuel—a book, by the way, which no respectable girl should allow her mother to read. But if any captious critic arises and denies the Law of Heredity, for argument’s sake I’ll waive this matter of maternal transmission of excellence and rest my case as to Solomon’s wisdom on the fact that he married over four hundred Philistine women ❦ And, as stated by Sir Walter Besant in a recent story, “a newly married woman always tells her husband everything she knows,” I feel safe in saying that Solomon’s transcendent wisdom was derived from Philistinic sources. ¶ Only one incident in the history of this people do I wish to set straight before the world at this writing—that is the story of Goliath ❦ According to recently discovered cuneiform inscriptions, it is found that the giant lived long enough to attend the funeral of David, so it is hardly likely that David slew him. That David threw pebbles at the warrior is doubtless true, but the giant of course paid no attention to the boys that followed him—going along about his business just as any other dignified giant would have done ❦ But David went home and told that he had killed the man—and the Israelites wishing to leave a proud record wrote the tale down as history ❦ We have reason to believe that this story was interpolated into the Bible during the first of the Third Century. In David’s case, summer and autumn quite fulfilled the promise of spring ❦ That eleventh chapter of Second Samuel, showing how he stole Bathsheba and then killed Uriah, her husband, reveals the quality of the man. But it was left for his dying act to crown a craven career ❦ With his last lingering breath—with the rattle of death in his throat—he gasped to his son, referring to a man who had never wronged him, “Let not his hoar head go down to Sheol in peace!” With the utterance of these frightful words his soul passed out into the Unknown ❦ In all that David wrote, not a word can I find that hints at his belief in a future life—he simply never thought of it—and dying as a dog dies, he gnashed at Shimei, whose offense was that thirty-five years before he had told David a little wholesome truth ❦ Shimei was a brave fellow and David dare not fight him, so he made a truce with him and swore an oath that he would never molest him, but dying he charged Solomon to search him out with a sword ❦ This is recorded by the Inspired Writer in the ninth verse of the second chapter of First Kings. With forty-one distinct crimes to David’s charge, the killing of nine hundred thousand men and two hundred thousand women and children, the houghing of thousands of horses, all of which is set down in infallible Holy Writ, his record is very bluggy. In fact, his whole life’s pathway is streaked with infamy ❦ David being a literary man of acknowledged merit, I have given him more attention than I would a plain, every-day king. And I now brand him as an all-round rogue. I do this calmly, holding myself personally responsible, and fully prepared to plead justification and prove my case should the heirs or next-of-kin consider my language libelous. ¶ And while I do not know anything about it for certain, it is my opinion that at the Last Great Day the folks who stayed around home and pruned their vines and tended their flocks and loved their wives and babies will fare a deal better than those other men who made war on an innocent people and tried to render them homeless ❦ Of course, I may be wrong about this, but I can not help having an opinion. Altogether, my sympathies are with the Philistines—who were so strong in personality that they gave their name to the Holy Land—Pelishton, Pelesheth, Philistia, Palestina, Palestine. ¶ Long years ago Professor Jowett called attention to the fact that the word Philistia literally meant Land of Friendship; the term having the same root as the Greek word Philos—Love. Max Muller has said, “The dwellers in the Valley of the Jordan, in the fifteenth century before Christ, recognizing the idea of Oneness or Fraternity, gave a name that signified Love-Land to their country: thus embodying the modern thought of the Brotherhood of Man.” ❦ In view of these things it was rather a strange move—a man so scholarly as Matthew Arnold applying the word “Philistine” as a term of reproach toward those who did not think as he did! I can see, though, that he shaped his language to fit the ears of his clientele. He sought to make clever copy—and he did. The opinion being abroad that the Philistines were the enemies of Light—how very funny to throw the word like a mud ball at any and all who chanced to smile at his theories! Having small wit of their own, the scribbling rabble took it up. ¶ On reading certain books by a Late Critic, who now wears prison garb and is doing the first honest work that ever his hands found to do, I see that he is very fond of calling people who are outside of his particular cult, “Philistines.” But look you! Brave Taurus at the bullfight is a deal more worthy of respect than the picadores who for a price harrow him without ruth to his death ❦ And as his virtue surpasses that of any in the silken, belaced and perfumed throng, who sit safe and with lily fingers applaud, so do we accept your banderilla, recognizing from whence it comes, and wear it jauntily as a badge of honor. ¶ As the Cross for eighteen hundred years has been a sacred emblem, and the gallows since John Brown glorious; and as the word Quaker, flung in impudent and impotent wrath, now stands for gentleness, peace and truth, so has the word Philistine become a synonym for manly independence. ¶ In Literature he is a Philistine who seeks to express his personality in his own way ❦ A true Philistine is one who brooks no let or hindrance from the tipstaffs of letters, who are only intent on crystallizing a life and language that are as yet very imperfect ❦ These men strive hard to reduce all life to a geometrical theorem and its manifestations to an algebraic formula. But Fate is greater than a college professor, and so far its mysteries, having given the slip to all the creeds, are still at large. My individual hazard at truth is as legitimate as yours. The self-appointed beadles of letters demand that we shall neither smile nor sleep while their Presiding Elders drone, but we plead in the World’s Assize for the privilege of doing both. So in Art we ask for the widest, freest and fullest liberty for Individuality—that’s all! ❦
Oral Righteousness
In days agone, if things tasted good we called them “toothsome.” We did not work the subject out according to the Herbert Spencer Law of Synthesis, but we dimly felt that teeth and taste were closely akin. And therein were we quite correct ❦ The widow who declined to marry the man, and on being discreetly pressed for a reason, abruptly declared with a Marie Corelli defiance that it was because he did not have the Dental-Floss Habit, was right in her instincts. She would rid her of the reek before she took it on as a life lease. For it is just such little things that make or mar, when we have sworn to love, honor and humor, and face the party over the coffee-urn every morning for ninety-nine years. The gentleman was not personally pleasant, and although he may have had a college degree, social position and spondulex, yet a breath that would stop a watch put him to the bad, and rightly so. ¶ To such a one she could never murmur soft and low the word “Mizpah!” Nor could he salvo his kismet magnum and get it back again according to the Aristotelian laws of action and reaction. For gentlemen who are not toothsome are never socially gladsome. If my years were not as those of the pterodactyl, and I wanted to win the love of a woman, I would look well to my molars. ¶ Brain, brawn, and the graceful two-step are as naught when toothsomeness is actively absent. Shakespeare had these two things in mind when he referred to a “barber’s breath,” and “the breath of an unfee’d attorney,” which items do not come to us as the breath of Spring. Abjure the weed and rice-paper, eliminate the elevated spheroid, and look you to your teeth, Cecil, to your teeth, I say. And the rest follows. We all have our opinions in matters of medicine, but no one knocks on the dentist. Is love then a matter of toothsomeness? ❦ I do not speak by the card, for my knowledge along this line is merely academic, yet a woman I know says, “Yes.” ¶ But seemingly, decayed teeth would give Cupid a pain in his wee tummy small. Decayed politics are bad; decayed literature is worse; and to love a person with decayed molars would be like loving a mummy with tainted morals. The increase in divorce, and the much marital woe of which we hear, are doubtless due to lack of toothsomeness ❦ The parties grin and bear it as long as they can—some declining to grin—and then strike for freedom, fresh air and the open road. ¶ Aside from the esthetics of bad teeth, there is the esoterics, and worse than that, is the hypersthenia which leads to language non-ethical, offensive, irrelevant and uncalled for. ¶ A very slight irritation in the teeth throws the soul on the horn of the saddle. To be sane and serene you have to be sound and salient. We do business on a mighty small spiritual bank-balance. To carry no reserve is like firing a boiler in which the gauges show no water. In fact, it means a very great danger of an explosion—and the grave necessity of being sent to the hospital and having the stub-end of your self-respect removed. An aching tooth or a tooth of which you are conscious draws mightily on your mental reserve. Morphine, or a dab of cotton soaked in chloroform, will help you forget it, but these things are drafts on the bank of futurity and the loan must be met with usurious interest. ¶ I once knew a playwright who started in to write a great historical drama; but he got a toothache, and decided to make it a farce-comedy; but all he produced was a fizzle ❦ Seldom does a man with the toothache make good; and to have cavities in your teeth and not know it is worse than to have the toothache, since pain is Nature’s beneficent warning ❦ So, to have decayed teeth and never have a toothache would mean lack of sensibility, which is lack of life. Such a one hasn’t enough nerves to make him irritable, much less to give him artistic grouch ❦ And grouch is unused or misused energy—and have I not said that all energy is divine? You write your poem, your essay, your play—just as you paint your picture, carve your statue, or give your oration—out of your surplus, and never out of your capital ❦ Should you begin to draw on your capital you get nerv. pros. or fatty degeneration of the cerebrum, and are a candidate for Billy Muldoon’s. ¶ Is oratory a matter of toothsomeness? Most certainly, yes ❦ The greatest orator that New York ever produced was thrown from his artistic hobbyhorse once and forever, when his store-teeth, in an impassioned moment, shot over the footlights and fell with a sickening thud into the orchestra. “Say, mister, are these your teeth?” asked a man in a front seat, as he solemnly arose and handed up the grinders. And that broke up the meeting ❦ I once saw a man, singing the part of Tannhauser, do a similar stunt. And we all declared that he could go down to Venusburg and stay there, for all of us—he ceased to be interesting. ¶ Get this down as an axiom: To speak well, or sing well, you must have good teeth ❦ The teeth are organs of speech—auxiliary organs at least. When your voice whistles through your teeth, and the tones come wheezy and with a sort of sad surprise, there are soon bubbles in your think-tank, and you travel home on your rim. It is then time to sing Tosti’s Good-by, and retire from the stage, thereafter warbling only to the gallery of your psychic self ❦