a metaphor from Carlyle's "Frederick," I likened Superstition to the
boa, which defies all ponderous assaults, and will not yield to the
pounding of sledge-hammers, but sinks dead when some expert thrusts
in a needle's point and punctures the spinal column.

I had a further incentive. Mr. Bradlaugh's infamous treatment by the
bigots had revolutionised my ideas of Freethought policy. Although
never timid, I was until then practically ignorant of the horrible
spirit of persecution; and with the generous enthusiasm of youth
I fondly imagined that the period of combat was ended, that the
liberty of platform and press was finally won, that Supernaturalism
was hopelessly scotched although obviously not slain, and that
Freethinkers should now devote themselves to cultivating the fields
they had won instead of raiding into the enemy's territory. Alas for
the illusions of hope! They were rudely dispelled by a few "scenes"
in the House of Commons, and barred from all chance of re-gathering
by the wild display of intolerance outside. I saw, in quite another
sense than Garth Wilkinson's, the profound truth of his saying that--

"The Duke of Wellington's advice, Do not make a little war, is
applicable to internal conflicts against evil in society. For
little wars have no background of resources, they do not know
the strength of the enemy, and the peace that follows them for
the most part leaves the evil in dispute nearly its whole territory;
perhaps is purchased by guaranteeing the evil by treaty; and
leaves the case of offence more difficult of attack by reason
of concession to wrong premises."
("Human Science and Divine Revelation," Preface, p. vi.)

Yes, the war with Superstition must be fought _a outrance_. We must