I don't know, do you?

by Marilla M. Ricker

He, the aforesaid Henry, said I collaborated with Elbert Hubbard. I am proud of that, whether it is true or not.

I consider Hubbard the most brilliant writer in this country.

Henry also said I feared neither God, man nor the Devil, because I did not believe particularly in any of them. If he would add an "o" to God and make it good, take the "d" from devil and make it evil, then I would have something tangible to write about besides man, in whom I believe.

Henry also said that I was engaged in a "labor of folly," fighting the doctrine of the immortality of the soul.

I simply expressed my opinion on the subject. My friend Henry wrote me not long ago that there was no earthly need of a Freethought paper; that thought was as free as air always and everywhere. I take issue with him there, and I call his attention to the Little Journey to the home of Copernicus—of January, Nineteen Hundred Five—by Elbert Hubbard. Copernicus was the founder of modern astronomy.

If Henry will read his life he can see what freethought meant at that time. I also call his attention to Giordano Bruno. He can see what happened to him and how free thought was at that time. Henry said I could write what I pleased, and get it printed where I could.

That was well added, for I could not in the year Nineteen Hundred Nine, in the city of Dover, New Hampshire, get my article on Immortality printed in the only paper in the city; so you see how freethought is up to date.

I certainly "take issue" with Henry, "That the hope or consciousness of life beyond the grave, or immortality of the soul, inspires mankind to all that is noble and heroic in the great struggle for progress and development here."

Robert Ingersoll did not believe in immortality, but he was a great, tender-hearted man, full of kindness, full of generous impulses. No man ever loved the true, the good and the beautiful more than he. He would take the case of a poor man into court without pay; he would give a young reporter an interview when he could sell every word he spoke for a dollar; he would present the proceeds of a lecture to some worthy object as though he were throwing a nickel to an organ-grinder; and when there was persecution he was on the side of the persecuted.

I do not believe in individual immortality, but I do the best I can, pay one hundred cents on the dollar, and I am not afraid to die. I know thousands who believe as I do.