“Take your time,” said the Irishman. “When a fellow falls back on old Donnybrook, I know he’s hard pressed for an argument.”
“I could prove to you in five minutes that tyrannicide is not murder, any more than tiger-hunting; and”—warned by a twinkle in the blue Irish eye,—“far more righteous than ordinary capital punishment. But, passing that over for the time, I should like to know what means you would employ to build a social republic, supposing you wanted one?”
“Do you suppose I should not hail the advent of true Socialism as the dawn of new light and life for the world?”
“Eh? a new convert! But stop! there was a qualifying word. True Socialism; that is, with all its distinctive features omitted.”
“Not at all. Socialism with all its vital organs strengthened and purified; in short—Christianity.”
“I thought so! Christianity! Why, Christianity has had her fling for eighteen centuries, and what has she done?”
“The first thing she did was to establish a commune,” replied the Irishman. “You can read a full account of it in the Book of Acts, including the history of some weak disciples, who, having perhaps been trained in tiger-hunting, were not fully equal to the occasion during a reign of peace. As the first recorded experiment in Socialism, it ought to interest you.”
“But the experiment failed.”
“Failed? In the reign of Tiberius, with Nero and Caligula and all those fellows to come after? Well, rather! The world wasn’t quite ready for it, not by some eighteen centuries, so Christianity fell back on her intrenchments, as you might say, and, while she reserved the spirit of Socialism, let go the letter.”
“She did, did she? why, Christians.”