ause it was a very ignorant
age--suppose they had said: "That tomtom is the most miraculous
instrument of music that any man can conceive of; that is the kind of
music they have in heaven. An angel, sitting upon the golden edge of a
fleecy cloud, playing upon that tomtom became so enraptured, so
entranced with her own music, that she dropped it, and that is how we
got it--and any man that says that it can be improved by putting a back
and front to it, and four strings and a bridge on it, and getting some
horsehair and resin, is no better than one of the weak and
unregenerate."

I ask you what effect would that have had upon music? I ask you, honor
bright, if that course had been pursued, would the human ears ever have
been enriched with the divine symphonies of Beethoven? That is the
question. And suppose the king, if there was one, and the priest had
said: "That crooked stick is the best plow we can ever have invented.
The pattern of that plow was given to a pious farmer in a holy dream,
and that twisted straw is the ne plus ultra of all twisted things; and
any man who says he can make an improvement, we will twist him." Honor
bright, what, in your judgment, would have been the effect upon the
agricultural world?

Now, you see, the people said, "We want better weapons with which to
kill our enemies;" so the people said, "we want better plows;" the
people said, "we want better music;" the people said, "we want better
paintings;" and they said, "whoever will give us better plows, and
better arms, and better paintings, and better music, we will give him
honor; we will crown him with glory; we will robe him in the garments
of wealth;" and every incentive has been held out to every human being
to improve something in every direction. And that is the reason the
club is a cannon; that the reason the dugout is a steamship; that the
reason the daub is a painting, and that is the reason that that piece
of stone has finally become a glorified statue.

Now, then, this fellow in the dug-out had a religion. That fellow was
orthodox. He had no doubt; he was settled in his mind. He did not
wish to be insulted. He wanted the bark of his soul to lie at the
wharf of orthodoxy, and rot in the sun. He wanted to hear the sails of
old opinions flap against the mast of old creeds. He wanted to see the
joints in the sides open and gape, as though thirsty for water, and he
said: "Now don't disturb my opinions; you'll get my