That's the title of a famous talk given by Bertrand Russell, which I hereby designate my online essay of the week. You don't have to agree with him to enjoy his remarks, but if you read it, you might find yourself agreeing with more than you would expect. Russell is unhappy with Christian theology and orthodoxy, and more generally with Christendom and its early-20th-century politics. But Mormons aren't always happy with Christian orthodoxy or institutions either. Take for example the definition of a Christian.
Here's how Russell defines a Christian:
I think, however, that there are two different items which are quite essential to anyone calling himself a Christian. The first is one of a dogmatic nature — namely, that you must believe in God and immortality. If you do not believe in those two things, I do not think that you can properly call yourself a Christian. Then, further than that, as the name implies, you must have some kind of belief about Christ. The Mohammedans, for instance, also believe in God and immortality, and yet they would not call themselves Christians. I think you must have at the very lowest the belief that Christ was, if not divine, at least the best and wisest of men. If you are not going to believe that much about Christ, I do not think that you have any right to call yourself a Christian.
Mormons believe in God and immortality, and affirm that Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ and the Son of God. So thank you, Mr. Russell. You may not be a Christian, but it's nice you think Mormons are.
Mormons don't employ the proofs of God that Russell critiques (although some Mormons do have a weakness for the argument from design). Russell was much troubled by the doctrine of hell, but Mormons have done away with hell (apart from six or seven truly devilish folks who will go to outer darkness) and with purgatory (spirit prison might hold regrets for some, but not physical torments). He gets a little carried away in his historical remarks, attributing every social fault (but no moral improvement) of the last two millennia to Christianity, but then Russell is was a philosopher and mathematician, not a historian.
Surprisingly, the plea in his closing paragraph is not too far from the down-to-earth approach that appeals to many Mormons:
We want to stand upon our own feet and look fair and square at the world — its good facts, its bad facts, its beauties, and its ugliness; see the world as it is and be not afraid of it. Conquer the world by intelligence and not merely by being slavishly subdued by the terror that comes from it. ... It is a conception quite unworthy of free men. When you hear people in church debasing themselves and saying that they are miserable sinners, and all the rest of it, it seems contemptible and not worthy of self-respecting human beings. We ought to stand up and look the world frankly in the face. We ought to make the best we can of the world, and if it is not so good as we wish, after all it will still be better than what these others have made of it in all these ages. A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men. It needs a fearless outlook and a free intelligence. It needs hope for the future, not looking back all the time toward a past that is dead, which we trust will be far surpassed by the future that our intelligence can create.
Amen, Mr. Russell.