WHOLLY ABJURED RELIGIOUS DOGMAS, AND LEFT

X.--ORIGIN OF ALL RELIGION.

Ignorance and fear are the two pivots of all religion. The uncertainty
attending man's relation to his God is precisely the motive which
attaches him to his religion. Man is afraid when in darkness--physical or
moral. His fear is habitual to him and becomes a necessity; he would
believe that he lacked something if he had nothing to fear.

XI.--IN THE NAME OF RELIGION CHARLATANS TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE WEAKNESS
OF MEN.

He who from his childhood has had a habit of trembling every time he
heard certain words, needs these words, and needs to tremble. In this
way he is more disposed to listen to the one who encourages his fears
than to the one who would dispel his fears. The superstitious man wants
to be afraid; his imagination demands it. It seems that he fears nothing
more than having no object to fear. Men are imaginary patients, whom
interested charlatans take care to encourage in their weakness, in order
to have a market for their remedies. Physicians who order a great number
of remedies are more listened to than those who recommend a good
regimen, and who leave nature to act.

Criticism justified

It is no part of my purpose to indulge in criticism of composers, but
something of the kind is made unavoidable by the position assigned to
Liszt in our pianoforte recitals. He is relied upon to provide a
scintillant close. The pianists, then, even those who are his
professed admirers, are responsible if he is set down in our scheme as
the exemplar of the technical cult. Technique having its unquestioned
value, we are bound to admire the marvellous gifts which enabled Liszt
practically to sum up all the possibilities of pianoforte mechanism in
its present stage of construction, but we need not look with unalloyed
gratitude upon his influence as a composer. There were, I fear, two
sides to Liszt's artistic character as well as his moral. I believe he
had in him a touch of charlatanism as well as a magnificent amount of
artistic sincerity--just as he blended a laxity of moral ideas with a
profound religious mysticism. It would have been strange indeed,
growing up as he did in the whited sepulchre of Parisian salon life,
if he had not accustomed himself to sacrifice a little of the soul of
art for the sake of vainglory, and a little of its poetry and feeling
to make display of those dazzling digital feats which he invented.
But, be it said to his honor, he never played mountebank tricks in the
presence of the masters whom he revered. It was when he approached the
music of Beethoven that he sank all thought of self and rose to a
peerless height as an interpreting artist.