Healthy animalism is the foundation of all virtues whatsoever. Diseased bodies produce diseased minds. Hence the noxious degeneracy of the average ‘genius.’ Hence also the shrieking madness of the blinded multitude. Average ‘civilized’ men are more or less abortions anyhow — pre-natal megalomaniacs. Sane men could never be induced to worship an Idol (made out of a mendicant Jew) nor would they consciously erect in the name of Progress, State sausage mills for chewing up their own flesh, and sucking their children’s marrow bones. (Deranged minds while being very susceptible to suggestion, possess — no initiative.)
It is the gibbering “geniuses” that are luring mankind down to eternal damnation. If these monstrous mattoids had been smothered the day they were born — the earth and the air would have been purer, to that extent. Have they not inoculated the human race with every malady; while proclaiming nostrums and “infallible remedies” — for each incurable disease?
From pulpit, platform and library, they ray out their maniacal babblement; and rabbles, madder than march-hares, suck it all in, with open-mouthed wonderment?
Hark! do you hear consumptive fiendlings coughing out their literary pestilence in the High places of the World? They would cure “the sufferings of the submerged,” would they?
Vain is the medicament that expels no contagion! Vain also is the rhetoric that cures no human woe!
Women take supreme delight in the roll of warlike drums — in the marching of the military, in reading the poems and romances of ‘battle, murder and sudden death.’ (Police Gazettes are mostly supported by women, because of the sensational homicide reports.)
French women (even against their deep patriotic sentimentalism) admired the fine physique and marital bearing of the German troops, that poured through Paris in ’71. The contrast between the tall, clean-skinned German Conquerors and the dwarfishness of the French National Guards was then most strikingly displayed. In France all ‘brutal’ sports are prohibited. Clericalism there has had full sway for centuries and now majority-box socialism (also cynical squalid sensualism) is all the rage.
Wherever soldiers conquer in war, they also conquer in love — after the first paroxysm of revengeful patriotism is over. Women of vanquished races are usually very prone to wed with the men who have slaughtered their kindred in battle.
Rudyard Kipling, in one of his popular ballads touches upon this ethnic peculiarity with a masterly hand: — “By the old Moulmein Pagoda looking eastward to the sea, there’s a Burma girl a settin’ an I know she thinks o’ me; for the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple bells, they say: — ‘Come you back O British Soldier, come you back to Mandalay.”
After the battle of Senlac, Norman adventurers were the ‘prey’ of fair-haired Saxon maidens. To this hour, wherever soldiers or men-o-wars go, amorous dusky daughters of conquered Islands, absolutely leap into their arms. New Zealand Maori women married British officers, soldiers and sailors in thousands and when the regiments were sent home many men remained rather than break up their families. At Gibraltar, Spanish senoritas literally storm that rock-ribbed fortress to get at the “widow’s-sons.” The loves of Red Indian maidens for Pale Face warriors may some day find a Homer, to clothe them with immortality. Already many have become world-famous; notably the epic of Pocahontas and that erratic filibuster John Smith. Since the marriage of Strongbow to Eva the admixture of Celt and Sassanach blood has proceeded continuously from the same root cause. In garrison towns it is a matter of perpetual witticism the preference which females of all strata display for soldier lovers.
What modern Gaul requires to reinvigorate her ethnic stamina is wholesale and limitless conquest by some Northern Race. The conquerors by seizing all the land and movable property would become immediately a ruling caste, attracting to themselves all the best feminines of France. This infusion of new blood would not strengthen the inherited physique of the invaders but it would certainly invigorate the structural physique of the defeated tribe.
No hand should be stretched forth to shield a self-poisoned breed of humans from utter subordination, for an undue preponderance of weakly organisms is not desirable. It is good that they should be swept away and it is better that they should be swept away by war than by pestilence — as in China and India. Enslavement or annihilation is the just reward of wholesale physical debilitation. The Blackfeet’s ruthless warfare against the Digger Indians was in strict accord with the Cosmic Plan.
The story of the past literally bristles with illustrations of ethnic displacement, carried out (unconsciously perhaps) as herein set forth. But to resume the personal factor. Breseis, after her “dearly beloved” had been slain by Achilles, consoled herself with the self-delightful fact that the slayer would take her, as spoil, to his own bed. The Valkyries (Norse battle-maidens), married only with their conquerors. After the storming of Troy, there was very little ceremony over the union of Ajax and Cassandra, in the temple of Minerva. All through the Illiad epic, women are at once the property, the conqueror’s prize, and the inspiration of all the Homeric Warriors.
It is notorious that when Roman and Greek matrons discovered no parental virility in their debauched consorts; they deliberately made advances to the blonde-bearded barbarians; who had been imported from the frontiers (prisoners of war) to wrestle in the amphitheatre. Many a dark-eyed patrician ‘maiden of Italia’ throbbed with secret joy, at the duel-victory of her favorite fighter; and many another has wept her eyes out, as the greedy remorseless sand, drank up the hearts blood of her ‘dying gladiator.’ American women’s passion for marrying foreigners, arises more or less, from similar instincts. American born men evince an alarming tendency towards impotency. (Vide census returns). An immense number of them are ‘old before they are young’ and a very large proportion (more especially in the cities) are lean lantern jawed profligates, or leering bald-headed wrecks.
The noblest born maids and matrons of Rome vied with each other for Cæsar’s smile — when he (after killing one million men, and enslaving two million, became Imperator. Queens were proud to be his concubines; and one of his own natural sons (without knowing the fact) helped to assassinate him. The love scandals of David, Solomon, Aaron Burr, Sigurd the Volsung, Hercules, Jupiter, Apollo, Jehovah, Isis, Sir Galahad, Charles II, Henry VIII, Bonaparte, Alexander, Raleigh, and that dashing triumvir Marc Antony, have affected, for better or for worse, the whole world.
‘Better the mistress of a king, than the wife of a subject,’ was a saying once popular amongst European women, in the ages when kings were really kings of men — when they were mail-clad sword-swingers — mighty men-of-valor. Modern “kings” are simulacra — dilettante, scarecrows, — robed in purple, and paid liberal salaries to impersonate regalism for the delectation of the vulgar. Marionettes are they! — fitted only to lay foundation-stones — utter vicarious homilies — read off type-written deceptions; or now and then dress up in swashbuckler accoutrements, to review Messrs Rothschild, Ikelheimer, Bleichroder & Co’s prætorian guards, marching by in serried column — with nodding plumes and bannered panoply of war.