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.. meta::
   :PG.Id: 39266
   :PG.Title: Theological Essays
   :PG.Released: 2012-03-25
   :PG.Rights: Public Domain
   :PG.Producer: David Widger
   :DC.Creator: Charles Bradlaugh
   :DC.Title: Theological Essays
   :DC.Language: en
   :DC.Created: 1895



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==================
THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS
==================

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   | :xlarge-bold:`THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS`
   |
   |
   | `By`
   |
   | :xlarge-bold:`Charles Bradlaugh`
   |
   |
   | :smallit:`London`
   |
   | :small-caps:`1895`




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.. contents:: CONTENTS
   :depth: 1
   :backlinks: entry



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HERESY: ITS UTILITY AND MORALITY
================================


Chapter I. Introductory
=======================

.. dropcap:: W WHAT


WHAT is heresy that it should be so heavily punished? Why is it that
society will condone many offences, pardon many vicious practices, and
yet have such scant mercy for the open heretic, who is treated as though
he were some horrid monster to be feared, hated, and, if possible,
exterminated? Most religionists, instead of endeavoring with kindly
thought to provide some solution for the difficulties propounded by
their heretical brethren, indiscriminately confound all inquirers in one
common category of censure; their views are dismissed with ridicule as
sophistical and fallacious, abused as infinitely dangerous, themselves
denounced as heretics and infidels, and libelled as scoffers and
Atheists. With some religionists all heretics are Atheists. With the
Pope of Rome, Garibaldi and Mazzini were Atheists. With the Religious
Tract Society, Voltaire and Paine were Atheists. Yet in none of the
above-named cases is the allegation true. Voltaire and Paine were
heretics, but both were Theists. Garibaldi and Mazzini were heretics,
but neither of them was an Atheist, though the latter had given color to
the description by accepting the presidency of an Atheistical society.
With few exceptions, the heretics of one generation become the revered
saints of a period less than twenty generations later. Lord Bacon,
in his own age, was charged with Atheism, Sir Isaac Newton with
Socinianism, the famous Tillotson was actually charged with Atheism, and
Dr. Burnet wrote vigorously against the commonly received traditions
of the fall and deluge. There are but few men of the past of whom the
church boasts to-day, who have not at some time been pointed at as
heretics by orthodox antagonists excited by party rancor. Heresy is in
itself neither Atheism nor Theism, neither the rejection of the Church
of Rome, nor of Canterbury, nor of Constantinople; heresy is not
necessarily of any-ist or-ism. The heretic is one who has selected his
own opinions, or whose opinions are the result of some mental effort;
and he differs from others who are orthodox in this:--they hold
opinions which are often only the bequest of an earlier generation
unquestioningly accepted; he has escaped from the customary grooves
of conventional acquiescence, and sought truth outside the channels
sanctified by habit.

Men and women who are orthodox are generally so for the same reason that
they are English or French--they were born in England or France, and
cannot help the good or ill fortune of their birthplace. Their orthodoxy
is no higher virtue than their nationality. Men are good and true of
every nation and of every faith; but there are more good and true men in
nations where civilisation has made progress, and amongst faiths which
have been modified by high humanising influences. Men are good not
because of their orthodoxy, but in spite of it; their goodness is the
outgrowth of their humanity, not of their orthodoxy. Heresy is necessary
to progress; heresy in religion always precedes endeavor for political
freedom. You cannot have effectual political progress without
wide-spread heretical thought. Every grand political change in which
the people have played an important part has been preceded by the
popularisation of heresy in the immediately earlier generations.

Fortunately, ignorant men cannot be real heretics, so that education
must be hand-maiden to heresy. Ignorance and superstition are twin
sisters. Belief too often means nothing more than prostration of the
intellect on the threshold of the unknown. Heresy is the pioneer, erect
and manly, striding over the forbidden line in his search for truth.
Heterodoxy develops the intellect, orthodoxy smothers it. Heresy is the
star twinkle in the night, orthodoxy the cloud which hides this faint
gleam of light from the weary travellers on life’s encumbered pathway.
Orthodoxy was well exemplified in the dark middle ages, when the mass of
men and women believed much and knew little, when miracles were common
and schools were rare, and when the monasteries on the hill tops held
the literature of Europe. Heresy speaks for itself in this nineteenth
century, with the gas and electric light, with cheap newspapers, with
a thousand lecture rooms, with innumerable libraries, and at least a
majority of the people able to read the thoughts the dead have left, as
well as to listen to the words the living utter.

The word heretic ought to be a term of honor; for honest, clearly
uttered heresy is always virtuous, and this whether truth or error;
yet it is not difficult to understand how the charge of heresy has
been generally used as a means of exciting bad feeling. The Greek word
[--Greek--] which is in fact our word heresy, signifies simply selection
or choice. The heretic philosopher was the one who had searched and
found, who, not content with the beaten paths, had selected a new road,
chosen a new fashion of travelling in the march for that happiness all
human-kind are seeking.

Heretics are usually called “infidels,” but no word could be more
unfairly applied, if by it is meant anything more than that the heretic
does not conform to the State faith. If it meant those who do not
profess the faith, then there would be no objection, but it is more
often used of those who are unfaithful, and then it is generally a
libel. Mahomedans and Christians both call Jews infidels, and Mahomedans
and Christians call each other infidels. Each religionist is thus an
infidel to all sects but his own; there is but one degree of heresy
between him and the heretic who rejects all churches. Each ordinary
orthodox man is a heretic to every religion in the world except one,
but he is heretic from the accident of birth without the virtue of true
heresy.

In our own country heresy is not confined to the extreme platform
adopted as a standing-point by such a man as myself. It is rife even
in the state-sustained Church of England, and to show this one does
not need to be content with such illustrations as are afforded by the
Essayists and Reviewers, who discover the sources of the world’s
education rather in Greece and Italy than in Judea; who reject the
alleged prophecies as evidence of the Messianic character of Jesus;
who admit that in nature and from nature, by science and by reason, we
neither have, nor can possibly have, any evidence of a deity working
miracles; but declare that for that we must go out of nature and beyond
science, and in effect avow that Gospel miracles are always *objects,*
not *evidences*, of faith; who deny the necessity of faith in Jesus as
savior to peoples who could never have such faith; and who reject the
notion that all mankind are individually involved in the curse and
perdition of Adam’s sin; or even by the Rev. Charles Voysey, who
declines to preach “the God of the Bible,” and who will not teach
that every word of the Old and New Testament is the word of God; or by
the Rev, Dunbar Heath, who in defiance of the Bible doctrine, that man
has only existed on the earth about 6,000 years, teaches that unnumbered
chiliads have passed away since the human family can be traced as
nations on our earth; or by Bishop Colenso, who in his impeachment of
the Pentateuch, his denial of the literal truth of the narratives of
the creation, fall, and deluge, actually impugns the whole scheme of
Christianity (if the foundation be false, the superstructure cannot be
true); or by the Rev. Baden Powell, who declared “that the whole tenor
of geology is in entire contradiction to the cosmogony delivered from
Mount Sinai,” and who denied a “local heaven above and a local hell
beneath the earth;” or by the Rev. Dr. Giles, who, not content with
preceding Dr. Colenso in his assaults on the text of the Pentateuch,
also wrote as vigorously against the text of the New Testament; or
by the Rev. Dr. Wall, who, unsatisfied with arguments against the
admittedly incorrect authorised translation of the Bible, actually wrote
to prove that a new and corrected Hebrew text was necessary, the Hebrew
itself being corrupt; or by the Rev. Dr. Irons, who teaches that not
only are the Gospel writers unknown, but that the very language in which
Jesus taught is yet to be discovered, who declares that prior to the
Ezraic period the literal history of the Old Testament is lost, who
does not find the Trinity taught in Scripture, and who declares that
the Gospel does not teach the doctrine of the Atonement; or by the
late Archbishop Whately, to whom is attributed a Latin pamphlet raising
strong objections against the truth of the alleged confusion of tongues
at Babel.

We may fairly allege, that amongst thinking clergymen of the Church of
England, heresy is the rule and not the exception. So soon as a
minister begins to preach sermons which he does not buy ready
lithographed-sermons which are the work of his brain—so soon heresy
more or less buds out, now in the rejection of some church doctrine or
article of minor importance, now in some bold declaration at variance
with major and more essential tenets. Even Bishop Watson, so famous for
his Bible Apology, declared that the church articles and creeds were not
binding on any man. “They may be true, they may be false,” he wrote.
To-day scores of Church of England clergymen openly protest against,
or groan in silence under the enforced subscription of Thirty-nine
unbelievable Articles. Sir William Hamilton declares that the heads
of Colleges at Oxford well knew that the man preparing for the Church
“will subscribe Thirty-nine Articles which he cannot believe, and
swears to do and to have done a hundred articles which he cannot or does
not perform.”

In scientific circles the heresy of the most efficient members is
startlingly apparent. Against the late Anthropological Society charges
of Atheism were freely levelled; and although such a charge does not
seem to be justified by any reports of their meetings, or by their
printed publications, it is clear that not only out of doors, but even
amongst their own circle, it was felt that their researches conflicted
seriously with the Hebrew writ. The Society was preached against and
prayed against until it collapsed; and yet it was simply a society
for discovering everything possible about man, prehistoric as well
as modern. It had, however, an unpardonable vice in the eyes of the
orthodox—it encouraged the utterance of facts without regard to their
effect on faiths.

The Ethnological Society is kindred to the last-named in many of its
objects, and hence some of its most active members have been direct
assailants of the Hebrew Chronology, which limits man’s existence to
the short space of 6,000 years; they have been deniers of the origin of
the human race from one pair, of the confusion of tongues at Babel, and
of the reduction of the human race to one family by the Noachian deluge.

Geological science has a crowd of heretics amongst its professors, men
who deny the sudden origin of fauna and flora; who trace the gradual
development of the vegetable and animal kingdoms through vast periods of
time; and who find no resting place in a beginning of existence, but
are obliged to halt in face of a measureless past, inconceivable in its
grandeur. Geology, to quote the words of Dr. Kalisch, declares “the
utter impossibility of a creation of even the earth alone in six
days.” Mr. Goodwin says in the “Essays and Reviews:” “The
school-books of the present day, while they teach the child that the
earth moves, yet assure him that it is a little less than six thousand
years old, and that it was made in six days. On the other hand,
geologists of all religious creeds are agreed that the earth has existed
for an immense series of years—to be counted by millions rather than
by thousands; and that indubitably more than six days elapsed from its
first creation to the appearance of man upon its surface.”

Mr. Richard Proctor says: “It has been shown that had past geological
changes in the earth taken place at the same rate as those which are now
in progress, one hundred millions of years at the very least would
have been required to produce those effects which have actually been
produced, we find, since the earth’s surface was fit to be the
abode of life. But recently it has been pointed out, correctly in all
probability, that under the greater tide-raising power of the moon
in past ages, these changes would have taken place more rapidly. As,
however, certainly ten millions of years, and probably a much longer
time, must have elapsed since the moon was at that favorable distance
for raising tides, we are by no means enabled, as some well-meaning but
mistaken persons have imagined, to reduce the life-bearing stage of
the earth from a duration of a hundred millions of years to a minute
fraction of such a period. The short life, but exceedingly lively one,
which they desire to see established by geological or astronomical
reasoning, never can be demonstrated. At the very least we must assign
ten millions of years to the life-bearing stage of the earth’s
existence.”

Astronomy has in the ranks of its professors many of its most able minds
who do not believe in the sun and moon as two great lights, who cannot
accept the myriad stars as fixed in the firmament solely to give light
upon the earth, who refuse to believe in the heaven as a fixed firmament
to divide the waters above from the waters beneath, who cannot by their
telescopes discover the local heaven above or the local hell beneath,
although their science marks each faint nebulosity crossing, or
crossed, by the range of the watcher’s vision. To quote again from Mr.
Goodwin:—“On the revival of science in the sixteenth century, some
of the earliest conclusions at which philosophers arrived, were found to
be at variance with popular and long established belief. The Ptolemaic
system of astronomy, which had then full possession of the minds of men,
contemplated the whole visible universe from the earth as the immovable
centre of things. Copernicus changed the point of view, and placing
the beholder in the sun, at once reduced the earth to an inconspicuous
globule, a merely subordinate member of a family of planets, which the
terrestrials had, until then, fondly imagined to be but pendants and
ornaments of their own habitation. The Church, naturally, took a lively
interest in the disputes which arose between the philosophers of the
new school, and those who adhered to the old doctrines, inasmuch as the
Hebrew records, the basis of religious faith, manifestly countenanced
the opinion of the earth’s immobility, and certain other views of the
universe, very incompatible with those propounded by Copernicus. Hence
arose the official proceedings against Galileo, in consequence of which
he submitted to sign his celebrated recantation, acknowledging that
‘the proposition that the sun is the centre of the world and
immovable from its place, is absurd, philosophically false, and formally
heretical, because it is expressly contrary to the Scripture;’ and
that ‘the proposition that the earth is not the centre of the world,
nor immovable, but that it moves, and also with a diurnal motion, is
absurd, philosophically false, and at least erroneous in faith.’”

Why is it that society is so severe on heresy? Three hundred years ago
it burned heretics, till thirty years ago it sent them to jail; even in
England and America to-day it is content to harass, annoy, and slander
them. In the United States a candidate for the Governorship of a State,
although otherwise admittedly eligible, was assailed bitterly for his
suspected Socinianism. Sir Sidney Waterlow, standing for a Scotch seat,
was sharply catechised as to when he had last been inside a Unitarian
Chapel, and only saved his seat by not too boldly avowing his opinions.
Lord Amberley, who was “unwise” enough to be honest in some of his
answers, did not obtain his seat for South Devon in consequence of the
suspicion of heresy excited against him. It was chiefly to the
*odium theologicum* that John Stuart Mill attributed his rejection at
Westminster.

During the past few years we have had an attempt to revive the old
persecuting spirit. Atheism has been held sufficient ground for
depriving Mrs. Besant of the custody of her infant daughter. Heretical
views were enough to cancel the appointment made by Lord Amberley for
the guardianship of his children. The Blasphemy Laws have been once more
put in force in different parts of England, and the Conservative party
boast that they have been united in their effort to prevent an Atheist
from exercising his political rights.

Sir William Drummond says: “Early associations are generally the
strongest in the human mind, and what we have been taught to credit as
children we are seldom disposed to question as men. Called away from
speculative inquiries by the common business of life, men in general
possess neither the inclination, nor the leisure to examine *what* they
believe or *why* they believe. A powerful prejudice remains in the mind;
insures conviction without the trouble of thinking; and repels doubt
without the aid or authority of reason. The multitude then is not very
likely to applaud an author, who calls upon it to consider what it had
hitherto neglected, and to stop where it had been accustomed to pass on.
It may also happen that there is a learned and formidable body, which,
having given its general sanction to the literal interpretation of the
Holy Scriptures, may be offended at the presumption of an unhallowed
layman, who ventures to hold that the language of those Scriptures is
often symbolical and allegorical, even in passages which both the Church
and the Synagogue consider as nothing else than a plain statement of
fact. A writer who had sufficient boldness to encounter such obstacles,
and to make an appeal to the public, would only expose himself to
the invectives of offended bigotry, and to the misrepresentations of
interested malice. The press would be made to ring with declamations
against him, and neither learning, nor argument, nor reason,
nor moderation on his side, would protect him from the literary
assassination which awaited him. In vain would he put on the
heaven-tempered panoply of truth. The weapons which could neither pierce
his buckler nor break his casque, might be made to pass with envenomed
points through the joints of his armor. Every trivial error which
he might commit would be magnified into a flagrant fault; and every
insignificant mistake into which he might fall would be represented by
the bigoted, or by the hireling critics of the day as an ignorant, or as
a perverse deviation from the truth.”

Both by the Statute Law and Common Law, heresy is punishable, and many
are punished for it even in the second half of the nineteenth century.
Besides open persecution, there is the constant, unceasing, paltry,
petty persecuting spirit which refuses to trade with the heretic;
which declines to eat with him; which will not employ him; which feels
justified in slandering him; which seeks to set his wife’s mind
against him, and to take away the affection of his children from him.


.. clearpage::

Chapter II. The Sixteenth Century
=================================

.. dropcap:: I IT


IT requires a more practised pen than mine to even faintly sketch the
progress of heresy during the past three centuries, but I trust to give
the reader an idea of its rapid growth and wide extension during the
period in which, aided by the printing press, heresy has made the
majority of its converts amongst the mass of the people. In earlier
times heretics were not only few, but they talked to the few, and wrote
to the few, in the language of the few. It is only during the last
hundred years that the greatest men have sought to make heresy
“vulgar;” that is, to make it common. One of our leading scientific
men, about fifteen years ago, admitted that he had been reproved by some
of his more orthodox friends, for not confining to the Latin language
such of his geological opinions as were supposed to be most dangerous to
the Hebrew records. The starting-point of the real era of popular heresy
may be placed at the early part of the sixteenth century, when the
memories of Huss and Ziska (who had really inoculated the mass with
some spirit of heretical resistance a century before) aided Luther in
resisting Rome.

Martin Luther, born at Eisleben in Saxony, in 1483, was one of the
heretics who sought popular endorsement for his heresy, and who
following the example of the Ulrich [Zwingli], of Zurich, preached to
the people in rough plain words. While others were limited to Latin, he
rang out in plain German his opposition to Tetzel and his protectors.
Martin Luther is spoken of by orthodox Protestants as if he were a saint
without blemish in his faith. Yet in justification of my ranking him
amongst the heretics of the sixteenth century, it will be sufficient
to mention that he regarded “the books of the Kings as more worthy
of credit than the books of the Chronicles,” that he wrote as
follows:—”The book of Esdras I toss into the Elbe.” “I am so an
enemy to the book of Esther I would it did not exist.” “Job spake
not therefore as it stands written in his book.” “It, is a sheer
*argumentum fabulæ*.” “The book of the Proverbs of Solomon has been
pieced together by others.” Of Ecclesiastes “there is too much of
broken matter in it; it has neither boots nor spurs, but rides only
in socks.” “Isaiah hath borrowed his whole art and knowledge from
David.” “The history of Jonah is so monstrous that it is absolutely
incredible.” “The Epistle to the Hebrews is not by St. Paul, nor
indeed by any Apostle.” “The Epistle of James I account the writing
of no Apostle,” and it “is truly an Epistle of straw.” The
Epistle of Jude “allegeth sayings or stories which have no place
in Scripture.” “Of Revelation I can discover no trace that it is
established by the Holy Spirit.” If Martin Luther were alive to-day,
the Established Church of England, which pretends to revere him, would
prosecute him in the English Ecclesiastical Courts if he ventured to
repeat the foregoing phrases from her pulpits. What would Christian
writers now say of the following passage, which occurs with reference
to Melancthon, whom Luther boasts that he raised miraculously from the
dead? “Melancthon,” says Sir William Hamilton, to whose essay I am
indebted for the extracts here given, “had fallen ill at Weimar
from contrition and fear for the part he had been led to take in the
Landgrave’s polygamy: his life was even in danger.” “Then and
there,” said Luther, “I made our Lord God to smart for it. For I
threw down the sack before the door, and rubbed his ears with all his
promises of hearing prayer, which I knew how to recapitulate from Holy
Writ, so that he could not but hearken to me, should I ever again place
any reliance on his promises.” Martin Luther, with his absolute denial
of free-will, and with his double code of morality for princes and
peasants—easy for one and harsh for the other—may be fairly left now
with those who desire to vaunt his orthodoxy; here his name is used to
illustrate the popular impetus given to nonconformity by his quarrel
with the papal authorities. Luther protested against the Romish Church,
but established by the very fact the right for some more advanced
man than Doctor Martin Luther to protest in turn against the Lutheran
Church. The only consistent church in Christendom is the Romish Church,
for it claims the right to think for all its followers. The whole of the
Protestant Churches are inconsistent, for they claim the right to think
and judge against Rome, but deny extremer Nonconformists the right to
think and judge against themselves. Goethe, says Froude, declares that
Luther threw back the intellectual progress of mankind by using the
passions of the multitude to decide subjects which should have been left
to the learned. But at least some of the multitude once having their
ears fairly opened, listened to more than the appeal to their passions,
and examined for themselves propositions which otherwise they would have
accepted or rejected from habit and without inquiry. Martin Luther’s
public discussions with pen and tongue, in Wittemberg, Augsburg, and
Lichtenburg, and the protest he encouraged against Rome, were the
commencement of a vigorous controversy, in which the public (who heard
for the first time sharp controversial sermons preached publicly in
the various pulpits by Lutheran preachers on free-will and necessity,
election and predestination, etc.) began to take real part and interest
which is still going on, and will in fact never end until the unholy
alliance of Church and State is everywhere annulled, and each religion
is left to sustain itself by its own truth, or to fall from its own
weakness, no man being molested under the law on account of his opinions
on religious matters. While Luther undoubtedly gave an impetus to the
growth of Rationalism by his own appeal to reason and his reliance on
reason for himself, it is not true that he contended for the right
of general freedom of inquiry, nor would he have left unlimited the
privileges of individual judgment for others. He could be furious in his
denunciations of reason when a freer thinker than himself dared to use
it against his superstitions. It is somewhat remarkable that while on
the one hand one man, Luther, was detaching from the Church of Rome
a large number of minds, another man, Loyola, was about the same time
engaged in founding that powerful society (the Society of Jesuits),
which has done so much to check free inquiry and maintain the priestly
domination over the human intellect. That which Luther commenced in
Germany roughly, inefficiently, and perhaps more from personal feeling
for the privileges of the special order to which he belonged than
from desire for popular progress, was aided in its permanent effect in
England by Bacon, in France by Montaigne and Descartes, and in Italy by
Bruno.

Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, was born on the 22nd January, 1561, and
died 1626. His mother, Anne, daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke, was a woman
of high education, and certainly with some inclinations favorable to
Freethought, for she had herself translated into English some of the
sermons on fate and free-will of Bernard Ochino, or Bernardin Ochinus,
an Italian Reforming Heretic, alike repudiated by the powers at Rome,
Geneva, Wittenberg, and Zurich. Ochino, in his famous disquisition
“touching the freedom or bondage of the human will, and the
foreknowledge, predestination, and liberty of God,” after discussing,
with great acuteness, and from different points of view, these important
topics, comes to the conclusion that there is no outlet to the mazes of
thought in which the honest speculator plunges in the endeavor to
solve these problems. Although, like other writers of that and earlier
periods, many of Bacon’s works were published in Latin, he wrote and
published also in English, and if I am right in numbering him as one of
the heretics of the sixteenth century, he must be also counted a vulgar
heretic—i.e., one who wrote in the vulgar tongue, who preached his
heresy in the language which the mass understood. Lewes says: “Bacon
and Descartes are generally recognised as the Fathers of Modern
Philosophy, although they themselves were carried along by the
rapidly-swelling current of their age, then decisively setting in the
direction of science. It is their glory to have seen visions of the
coming greatness, to have expressed in terms of splendid power the
thoughts which were dimly stirring the age, and to have sanctioned the
new movement by their authoritative genius.” Bacon was the populariser
of that method of reasoning known as the inductive, that method which
seeks to trace back from the phenomena of the moment to the eternal
noumenon or noumena—from the conditioned to the absolute. Nearly two
thousand years before, the same method had been taught by Aristotle in
opposition to Plato, and probably long thousands of years before the
grand Greek, pre-historic schoolmen had used the method; it is natural
to the human mind. The Stagirite was the founder of a school, Bacon the
teacher and populariser for a nation. Aristotle’s Greek was known to
few, Bacon’s eloquent English opened out the subject to the many whom
he impregnated with his own confidence in the grand progressiveness
of human thought. Lewes says: “The spirit of his philosophy was
antagonistic to theology, for it was a spirit of doubt and search; and
its search was for visible and tangible results.” Bacon himself, in
his essay on Superstition, says: “Atheism leaves a man to sense, to
philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to reputation, all which may
be guides to an outward moral virtue, though religion were not; but
superstition dismounts all these, and erecteth an absolute monarchy in
the minds of men: therefore Atheism did never perturb states; for it
makes men wary of themselves, as looking no further; and we see the
times inclined to Atheism, as the time of Augustus Caesar, were civil
times; but superstition hath been the confusion of many states, and
bringeth in a new *primum mobile* (the first motive cause), that
ravisheth all the spheres of government.” It is true that he also
wrote against Atheism, and this in strong language, but his philosophy
was not used for the purpose of proving theological propositions. He
said: “True philosophy is that which is the faithful echo of the
voice of the world, which is written in some sort under the dictation
of things, which adds nothing of itself, which is only the rebound, the
reflexion of reality.” It has been well said that the words “Utility
and Progress” give the keynotes of Bacon’s teachings. With one other
extract we leave his writings. “Crafty men,” he says, “contemn
studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use them; for they teach
not their own use; but that is a wisdom without them, and above them,
won by observation. Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe
and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and
consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some
few to be chewed and digested. Reading maketh a full man; conference
a ready man; and writing an exact man; and therefore, if a man write
little, he need have a great memory; if he confer little, he need have
a present wit; and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to
seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets witty; the
mathematicis subtle; natural philosophy deep; moral, grave; logic
and rhetoric, able to contend.” He was the father of experimental
philosophy. In one of his suggestions as to the force of attraction of
gravitation may be found the first aid to Sir Isaac Newton’s later
demonstrations on this head; another of his suggestions, worked out by
Torricelli, ended in demonstrating the weight of the atmosphere. But to
the method he so popularised may be attributed the grandest discoveries
of modern times. It is to be deplored that the memory of his moral
weakness should remain to spoil the praise of his grand intellect.

Lord Macaulay, in the *Edinburgh Review*, after contrasting at some
length the philosophy of Plato with that of Bacon, said:—“To sum up
the whole: we should say that the aim of the Platonic philosophy was to
exalt man into a god. The aim of the Baconian philosophy was to provide
man with what he requires while he continues to be man. The aim of the
Platonic philosophy was to raise us far above vulgar wants. The aim of
the Baconian philosophy was to supply our vulgar wants. The former aim
was noble; but the latter was attainable. Plato drew a good bow; but,
like Acestes in Virgil, he aimed at the stars; and therefore, though
there was no want of strength or skill, the shot was thrown away.

His arrow was indeed followed by a track of dazzling radiance, but it
struck nothing. Bacon fixed his eye on a mark which was placed on the
earth and within bowshot, and hit it in the white. The philosophy of
Plato began in words and ended in words—noble words indeed—words
such as were to be expected from the finest of human intellects
exercising boundless dominion over the finest of human languages. The
philosophy of Bacon began in observations and ended in arts.

In France the political heresy of Jean Bodin—who challenged the
divine right of rulers; who proclaimed the right of resistance
against oppressive decrees of monarchs; who had words of laudation for
tyranicide, and yet had no conception that the multitude were entitled
to use political power, but on the contrary wrote against them—was
very imperfect, the conception of individual right was confounded in the
habit of obedience to monarchical authority. Bodin is classed by Mosheim
amongst the writers who sowed the seeds of scepticism in France; but
although he was far from an orthodox man, it is doubtful if Bodin ever
intended his views to be shared beyond the class to which he belonged.
To the partial glimpse of individual right in the works of Bodin add
the doctrine of political fraternity taught by La Boetie, and then this
political heresy becomes dangerous in becoming popular.

The most decided heretic and doubter of the sixteenth century was
one Santhez, by birth a Portuguese, and practising as a physician
at Toulouse; but the impetus which ultimately led to the spread and
popularity of sceptical opinions in relation to politics and theology,
is chiefly due to the satirical romances of Rabelais and the essays of
Montaigne. “What Rabelais was to the supporters of theology,” says
Buckle, “that was Montaigne to the theology itself. The writings of
Rabelais were only directed against the clergy, but the writings of
Montaigne were directed against the system of which the clergy were the
offspring.”

Montaigne was born at Bordeaux 1533, died 1592. Louis Blanc says of his
words: “Et ce ne sont pas simples discours d’un philosophe à des
philosophes. Montaigne s’adresse à tous.” Montaigne’s words were
not those of a philosopher talking only to his own order, he addressed
himself to mankind at large, and he wrote in language the majority could
easily comprehend. Voltaire points out that Montaigne as a philosopher
was the exception in France to his class; he having succeeded in
escaping that persecution which fell so heavily on others. Montaigne’s
thoughts were like sharp instruments scattered broadcast, and intended
for the destruction of many of the old social and conventional bonds; he
was the advocate of individualism, and placed each man as above society,
rather than society as more important than each man. Montaigne mocked
the reasoners who contradicted each other, and derided that fallibility
of mind which regarded the opinion of the moment as infallibly true,
and which was yet always temporarily changed by an attack of fever or
a draught of strong drink, and often permanently modified by some new
discovery. Less fortunate than Montaigne, Godfrey a Valle was burned for
heresy in Paris in 1572, his chief offence having been that of issuing a
work entitled “De Arte Nihil Credenti.”

Heresy thus championed in France, Germany, and England, had in Italy its
sixteenth century soldiers in Pomponatius of Mantua, Giordano Bruno, and
Telesio, both of Naples, and in Campa-nella of Calabria, a gallant band,
who were nearly all met with the cry of “Atheist,” and were either
answered with exile, the prison, or the faggot.

Pomponatius, who was born 1486 and died 1525, wrote a treatise on the
Soul, which was so much deemed an attack on the doctrine of immortality
despite a profession of reverence for the dogmas of the Church, that
the work was publicly burned at Venice, a special bull of Leo X being
directed against the doctrine.

Bernard Telesio was born at Naples in 1508, and founded there a school
in which mathematics and philosophy were given the first place. During
his lifetime he had the good fortune to escape persecution, but after
his death his works were proscribed by the Church. Telesio was chiefly
useful in educating the minds of some of the Neapolitans for more
advanced thinking than his own.

This was well illustrated in the case of Thomas Campanella, born 1568,
who, attracted by the teachings of Telesio, wrote vigorously against the
old schoolmen and in favor of the new philosophy. Despite an affected
reverence for the Church of Rome, Campanella spent twenty-seven years
of his life in prison. Campa-nella has been, as is usually the case with
eminent writers, charged with Atheism, but there seems to be no fair
foundation for the charge. He was a true heretic, for he not only
opposed Aristotle, but even his own teacher Telesio. None of these
men, however, yet strove to reach the people, they wrote to and of one
another, not to or of the masses. It is said that Campanella was fifty
times arrested and seven times tortured for his heresy.

One Andrew de Bena, a profound scholar and eminent preacher of the
Church of Rome, carried away by the spirit of the time, came out into
the reformed party; but his mind once set free from the old trammels,
found no rest in Luther’s narrow church, and a poetic Pantheism was
the result.

Jerome Cardan, a mathematician of considerable ability, born at Pavia
1501, has been fiercely accused of Atheism. His chief offence seems
to have been rather in an opposite direction; astrology was with him
a favorite subject. While the strange views put forward in some of his
works served good purpose by provoking inquiry, we can hardly class
Cardan otherwise than as a man whose undoubted genius and erudition were
more than counterbalanced by his excessively superstitious folly.

Giordano Bruno was born near Naples about 1550. He was burned at Rome
for heresy on the 17th February, 1600. Bruno was burned for alleged
Atheism, but appears rather to have been a Pantheist. His most prominent
avowal of heresy was the disbelief in eternal torment and rejection of
the common orthodox ideas of the devil. He wrote chiefly in Italian, his
vulgar tongue, and thus effectively aided the grand march of heresy
by familiarising the eyes of the people with newer and truer forms of
thought. Bruno used the tongue as fluently as the pen. He spoke in Italy
until he had roused an opposition rendering flight the only possible
escape from death. At Geneva he found no resting-place, the fierce
spirit of [Zwingli] and Calvin was there too mighty; at Paris he might
have found favor with the King, and at the Sorbonne, but he refused to
attend mass, and delivered a series of popular lectures, which won many
admirers; from Paris he went to England, where we find him publicly
debating at Oxford and lecturing on theology, until he excited an
antagonism which induced his return to Paris, where he actually publicly
discussed for three days some of the grand problems of existence. Paris
orthodoxy could not permit his onslaughts on established opinions, and
this time it was to Germany Bruno turned for hospitality; where, after
visiting many of the different states, lecturing freely and with
general success, he drew upon himself a sentence of excommunication at
Helmstadt. At last he returned to Italy and spoke at Padua, but had
at once to fly thence from the Inquisition; at Venice he found a
resting-place in prison, whence after six years of dungeon, and after
the tender mercy of the rack, he was led out to receive the final
refutation of the faggot. There is a grand heroism in the manner in
which he received his sentence and bore his fiery punishment. No cry
of despair, no prayer for escape, no flinching at the moment of death.
Bruno’s martyrdom may favorably contrast with the highest example
Christianity gives us.

It was in the latter half of the sixteenth century, that Unitarianism
or Socinianism assumed a front rank position in Europe, having its chief
strength in Poland, with considerable force in Holland and England.
In 1524, one Lewis Hetzer had been publicly burned at Constance, for
denying the divinity of Jesus; but Hetzer was more connected with the
Anabaptists than with the Unitarians. About the same time a man named
Claudius openly argued amongst the Swiss people, against the doctrine
of the Trinity, and one John Campanus contended at Wittenberg, and other
places, against the usually inculcated doctrines of the Church, as to
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

In 1566, Valentine Gentilis, a Neapolitan, was put to death at Berne,
for teaching the superiority of God the Father, over the Son and the
Holy Ghost. Modern Unitarianism appears to have had as its founders or
chief promoters, Lælius Socinus, and his nephew Faustus Socinus; the
first having the better brain and higher genius, but marred by a timid
and irresolute character; the second having a more active nature and
bolder temperament. From Cracow and Racow, during the latter half of
this century, the Unitarians (who drew into their ranks many men of
advanced minds) issued a large number of books and pamphlets, which
were circulated amongst the people with considerable zeal and industry.
Unitarianism was carried from Poland into Transylvania by a physician,
George Blandrata, and a preacher Francis David or Davides, who obtained
the support and countenance of the then ruler of the country. Davides
unfortunately for himself, became too unitarian for the Unitarians;
he adopted the extreme views of one Simon Budnæus, who, in Lithuania,
entirely repudiated any sort of religious worship in reference to Jesus.
Budnæus was excommunicated by the Unitarians themselves, and Davides
was imprisoned for the rest of his life. As the Unitarians were
persecuted by the old Romish and New Lutheran Churches, so they in
turn persecuted seceders from and opposers of their own movement. Each
man’s history involved the widening out of public thought; each act of
persecution illustrated a vain endeavor to check the progress of
heresy; each new sect marked a step towards the destruction of the old
obstructive faiths.

About the close of the sixteenth century, Ernestius Sonerus, of
Nuremberg, wrote against the doctrine of eternal torment, and also
against the divinity of Jesus, but his works were never very widely
circulated. Amongst the distinguished Europeans of the sixteenth century
whom Dr. J.P. Smith mentions as either Atheists or favoring Atheism,
were Paul Jovius, Peter Aretin, and Muretus. Rumor has even enrolled
Louis X himself in the Atheistical ranks. How far some of these men had
warranted the charge other than by being promoters of literature
and lovers of philosophy, it is now difficult to say. A determined
resistance was offered to the spread of heretical opinions in the South
of Europe by the Roman Church, and it is alleged that some thousands of
persons were burned or otherwise punished in Spain, Portugal, and Naples
during the sixteenth century. The Inquisition or Holy Office was
in Spain and Portugal the most prominent and active persecutor, but
persecution was carried on vigorously in other parts of Europe by the
seceders from Rome. [Zwingli], Luther, and Calvin, were as harsh as the
Pope towards those with whom they differed.

Michael Servetus, or Servede, was a native of Arragon, by profession a
physician; he wrote against the orthodox doctrines of the Trinity, but
was far from ordinary Unitarianism. He was burned at Geneva, at
the instance of Calvin. Calvin was rather fond of burning heretical
opponents; to the name of Servetus might be added that of Gruet, who
also was burned at the instance of Calvin, for denying the divinity of
the Christian religion, and for arguing against the immortality of the
soul.

It is worth notice that while heresy in this sixteenth century began
to branch out openly, and to strike its roots down firmly amongst the
people, ecclesiastical historians are compelled to record improvement in
the condition of society. Mosheim says: “In this century the arts and
sciences were carried to a pitch unknown to preceding ages, and from
this happy renovation of learning, the European churches derived the
most signal and inestimable advantages.” “The benign influence of
true science, and its tendency to improve both the form of religion
and the institutions of civil policy, were perceived by many of
the states.” The love of literature is the most remarkable and
characteristic form of advancing civilisation. Instead of being the
absorbing passion of the learned few, it becomes gradually the delight
and occupation of increasing numbers. This cultivation of literary
pursuits by the masses is only possible when enough of heresy has
been obtained to render their scope of study wide enough to be useful.
Rotterdam gave life to the polished Erasmus, Valentia to Ludovico Vivez,
Picardy to Le Fevre, and France to Rabelais.

In the latter half of this century, giants in literature grew out,
giants who wrote for the people. William Shakspere wrote even for those
who could not read, but who might learn while looking and listening. His
comedies and tragedies are at the same time pictures for the people of
diverse phases of English life and character, with a thereunto added
universality of portrayal and breadth in philosophy, which it is hardly
too much to say, that no other dramatist has ever equaled. Italy boasts
its 'Torquato Tasso, whose “Jerusalem Delivered,” the grand work of
a great poet, marks, like a mighty monument, the age capable of finding
even in a priest-ridden country, an audience amongst the lowest as well
as the highest, ready to read and sing, and finally permeated with the
poet’s outpourings. In astronomy, the name of Tycho Brahe stands out
in the sixteenth century like one of the first magnitude stars whose
existence he catalogued.


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Chapter III. The Seventeenth Century
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THE seeds of inquiry sown in the sixteenth century resulted in a
fruitful display of advanced opinions during the next age. In the page
of seventeenth-century history, more names of men, either avowedly
heretics, or charged by the orthodox with heresy, or whose labors can be
shown to have tended to the growth of heresy, may probably be recorded
than can be found during the whole of the previously long period during
which the Christian Church assumed to dominate and control European
thought. The seventeenth-century muster-roll of heresy is indeed a grand
one, and gloriously filled. One of its early martyrs was Julius Caesar
Vanini, who was burned at Toulouse, in the year 1619, aged 34, as “an
impious and obstinate Atheist.” Was he Atheist, or was he not? This is
a question, in answering which the few remains of his works give little
ground for sharing the opinion of his persecutors. Yet many writers
agree in writing as if his Atheism were of indisputable notoriety.
He was a poor Neapolitan priest, he preached a sort of Pantheism;
unfortunately for himself, he believed in the utility of public
discussion on theological questions, and thus brought upon his head the
charge of seeking to convert the world to Atheism.

In 1611, two men, named Legat and Whitman, were burned in England for
heresy. “But,” says Buckle, “this was the last gasp of expiring
bigotry; and since that memorable day the soil of England has never
been stained by the blood of a man who has suffered for his religious
creed.”

Peter Charron, of Paris, ought perhaps to have been included in the
sixteenth-century list, for he died in 1603, but his only known work,
“La Sagesse,” belongs to the seventeenth century, in which it
circulated and obtained reputation. He urged that religion is the
accidental result of birth and education, and that therefore variety of
creed should not be cause of quarrel between men, as such variety is
the result of circumstances over which the men themselves have had no
control; and he urges that as each sect claims to be the only true one,
we ought to rise superior to all sects, and without being terrified
by the fear of future punishment, or allured by the hope of future
happiness, “be content with such practical religion as consists in
performing the duties of life.” Buckle, who speaks in high terms of
Charron, says: “The Sorbonne went so far as to condemn Charron’s
great work, but could not succeed in having it prohibited.”

René Descartes Duperron, a few years later than Bacon (he was born in
1596, at La Haye, in Touraine, died 1650, at Stockholm) established the
foundations of the deductive method of reasoning, and applied it in a
manner which Bacon had apparently carefully avoided. Both Descartes
and Bacon addressed themselves to the task of substituting for the old
systems, a more comprehensive and useful spirit of philosophy; but while
Bacon sought to accomplish this by persuading men to experiment and
observation, Descartes commenced with the search for a first and
self-evident ground of all knowledge. This, to him, is found in
consciousness. The existence of Deity was a point which Bacon left
untouched by reason, yet with Descartes it was the first proposition
he sought to prove. He says: “I have always thought that the two
questions of the existence of God and the nature of the soul, were the
chief of those which ought to be demonstrated rather by philosophy than
by theology, for although it is sufficient for us, the faithful, to
believe in God, and that the soul does not perish with the body, it does
not seem possible ever to persuade the infidels to any religion unless
we first prove to them those two things by natural reason.” To prove
this existence of God and the immortality of the soul, Descartes needed
a firm starting point, one which no doubt could touch, one which
no argument could shake. He found this point in the fact of his own
existence. He could doubt everything else, but he could not doubt that
he, the thinking doubter, existed. His own existence was the primal
fact, the indubitable certainty, which served as the base for all other
reasonings, hence his famous “Cogito ergo sum:”—I think, therefore
I am. And although it has been fairly objected that Descartes did not
exist because he thought, but existed and thought; it is nevertheless
clear that it is only in the thinking that Descartes had the
consciousness of his existence. The fact of Descartes’ existence was,
to him, one above and beyond all logic. Evidence could not add to the
certitude, no scepticism could impeach it. Whether or not we agree with
the Cartesian philosophy, or the reasonings used to sustain it, we must
admire the following four rules which he has given us, and which, with
the view of consciousness in which we do not entirely concur, are
the essential features of the basis of a considerable portion of
Descartes’ system:—

“1. Never to accept anything as true but what is evidently so; to
admit nothing but what so clearly and distinctly presents itself as
true, that there can be no reason to doubt it.

“2. To divide every question into as many separate parts as possible,
that each part being more easily conceived, the whole may be more
intelligible.

“3. To conduct the examination with order, beginning by that of
objects the most simple, and therefore the easiest to be known, and
ascending little by little up to knowledge of the most complex.

“4. To make such exact calculations, and such circumspections as to be
confident that nothing essential has been omitted.”

“Consciousness being the basis of all certitude, everything, of which
you are clearly and distinctly conscious must be true; everything
which you clearly and distinctly conceive, exists, if the idea involve
existence.”

It should be remarked that consciousness being a state or condition of
the mind, is by no means an infallible guide. Men may fancy they have
clear ideas, when their consciousness, if carefully examined, would
prove to have been treacherous. Descartes argued for three classes of
ideas—acquired, compounded, and innate. It is in his assumption of
innate ideas that you have one of the radical weaknesses of his system.
Sir William Hamilton points out that the use of the word idea by
Descartes, to express the object of memory, imagination, and sense,
was quite a new usage, only one other writer, David Buchanan, having
previously used the word idea with this signification.

Descartes did not write for the mass, and his philosophy would have
been limited to a much narrower circle had its spread rested on his own
efforts. But the age was one for new thought, and the contemporaries and
successors of Descartes carried the Cartesian logic to extremes he had
perhaps avoided, and they taught the new philosophy to the world in a
fearless spirit, with a boldness for which Descartes could have given
them no example. Descartes, who in early life had travelled much more
than was then the custom, had probably made the personal acquaintance
of most of the leading thinkers of Europe then living; it would be
otherwise difficult to account for the very ready reception given by
them to his first work. Fortunately for Descartes, he was born with a
fair fortune, and escaped such difficulties as poorer philosophers must
needs submit to. There is perhaps a per contra side. It is more than
possible that if the needs of life had compelled him, Descartes’
scientific predilections might have resulted in more immediate advantage
to society. His philosophy is often pedantic to weariness, and his
scientific theories are often sterile. The fear of poverty might have
quickened some of his speculations [into] a more practical utterance.
Buckle reminds us that Descartes “was the first who successfully
applied algebra to geometry; that he pointed out the important law of
the sines; that in an age in which optical instruments were extremely
imperfect, he discovered the changes to which light is subjected in
the eye by the crystalline lens; that he directed attention to the
consequences resulting from the weight of the atmosphere, and that he
detected the causes of the rainbow.” “Descartes,” says Saintes,
“throwing off the swaddling clothes of scholasticism, resolved to
owe to himself alone the acquisition of the truth which he so earnestly
desired to possess. For what else is the methodical doubt which he
established as the starting point in his philosophy, than an energetic
protest of the human mind against all external authority? Having thus
placed all science on a philosophical basis, no matter what, he freed
philosophy herself from her long servitude, and proclaimed her queen of
the intellect. Hence everyone who has wished to account to himself for
his existence, everyone who has desired to know himself, to know nature,
and to rise to its author; in a word, all who have wished to make a
wise use of their intellectual faculties, to apply them, not to hollow
speculations which border on nonentity, but to sensible and practical
inquiries, have taken and followed some direction from Descartes.” It
is almost amusing when philosophers criticise their predecessors. Mons.
Henri Ritter denies to Descartes any originality of method or even
of illustration, while Hegel describes him as the founder of modern
philosophy, whose influence upon his own age and on modern times it
is impossible to exaggerate. To attempt to deal fully and truly with
Descartes in the few lines which can be spared here, is impossible;
all that is sought is to as it were catalogue his name in the
seventeenth-century list. Whether originator or imitator, whether
founder or disciple, it is certain that Descartes gave a sharp spur to
European thought, and mightily hastened the progress of heresy. It is
not the object or duty of the present writer to examine or refute any
of the extraordinary views entertained by Descartes as to vortices.
Descartes himself is reported to have said, “my theory of vortices
is a philosophical romance.” Science in the last three centuries has
travelled even more rapidly than philosophy; and most of the physical
speculations of Descartes are relegated to the region of grandly curious
blunderings. There is one point of error held by Descartes sufficiently
entertained even to-day—although most often without a distinct
appreciation of the position—to justify a few words upon it. Descartes
denied mental faculties to all the animal kingdom except mankind. All
the brute kingdom he re-garded as machines without intelligence. In this
he was logical, even in error, for he accorded a soul to man which he
denied to the brute. Soul and mind with him are identified, and thought
is the fundamental attribute of mind. To admit that a dog, horse, or
elephant can think, that it can remember what happened yesterday, that
it can reason ever so incompletely, would be to admit that that dog,
horse, or elephant, has some kind of soul; to avoid this he reduces all
animals outside the human family to the position of machines. To-day
science admits in animals, more or less according to their organisation,
perception, memory, judgment, and even some sort of reason. Yet
orthodoxy still claims a soul for man even if he be a madman from his
birth, and denies it to the sagacious elephant, the intelligent horse,
the faithful dog, and the cunning monkey. His proof of the existence of
Deity is thus stated by Lewes:—“Interrogating his consciousness,
he found that he had the idea of God, understanding by God, a substance
infinite, eternal, immutable, independent, omniscient, omnipotent. This,
to him, was as certain a truth as the truth of his own existence. I
exist: not only do I exist, but exist as a miserably imperfect finite
being, subject to change, greatly ignorant and incapable of creating
anything. In this, my consciousness, I find by my finitude that I am not
the All; by my imperfection, that I am not perfect. Yet an infinite and
perfect being must exist, because infinity and perfection are implied
as correlatives in my ideas of imperfection and finitude. God therefore
exists: his existence is clearly proclaimed in my consciousness, and
can no more be a matter of doubt, when fairly considered, than my
own existence. The conception of an infinite being proves his real
existence; for if there is not really such a being, I must have made
the conception; but if I could make it, I can also unmake it, which
evidently is not true; therefore there must be, externally to myself, an
archetype from which the conception was derived. All that we clearly and
distinctly conceive as contained in anything, is true of that thing.
Now we conceive, clearly and distinctly, that the existence of God is
contained in the idea we have of him—Ergo, God exists.”

It may not be out of place to note at this point, that the Jesuit
writer, Father Hardouin, in his “Atheists Unmasked,” as a recompense
for this demonstration of the existence of Deity, places Descartes and
his disciples, le Grand and Regis, in the first rank of atheistical
teachers. Voltaire, commenting on this, remarks: “The man who
had devoted all the acuteness of his extraordinary intellect to the
discovery of new proofs of the existence of a God, was most absurdly
charged with denying him altogether.” Speaking of the proof of the
existence of Deity: “Demonstrations of this kind,” says Froude,
“were the characteristics of the period.” Descartes had set the example
of constructing them, and was followed by Cud-worth, Clarke, Berkeley,
and many others besides Spinoza. The inconclusiveness of the method may
perhaps be observed most readily in the strangely opposite conceptions
formed by all these writers of the nature of that Being whose existence
they nevertheless agreed, by the same process, to gather each out of
their ideas. It is important, however, to examine it carefully, for it
is the very keystone of the Pantheistic system. As stated by Descartes,
the argument stands something as follows:—God is an allperfect Being,
perfection is the idea which we form of Him, existence is a mode of
perfection, and therefore God exists. The sophism, we are told, is only
apparent, existence is part of the idea—as much involved in it as the
equality of all lines drawn from the centre to the circumference of a
circle is involved in the idea of a circle. A non-existent all-perfect
Being is as inconceivable as a quadrilateral triangle. It is sometimes
answered that in this way we may prove the existence of anything,
Titans, Chimeras, or the Olympian gods; we have but to define them as
existing, and the proof is complete. But this objection is summarily set
aside; none of these beings are by hypothesis absolutely perfect, and,
therefore, of their existence we can conclude nothing. With greater
justice, however, we may say, that of such terms as perfection
and existence we know too little to speculate. Existence may be an
imperfection for all we can tell, we know nothing about the matter.

Such arguments are but endless *petitiones principii*—like the
self-devouring serpent, resolving themselves into nothing. We wander
round and round them in the hope of finding some tangible point at which
we can seize their meaning; but we are presented everywhere with
the same impracticable surface, from which our grasp glides off
ineffectual.

Thomas Hobbes, of Malmesbury, is one of those men more often freely
abused than carefully read; he was born April 5th, 1588, died 1679. He
was “the subtlest dialectician of his time,” and one of the earliest
English advocates of the materialistic limitation of mind; he denies the
possibility of any knowledge other than as resulting from sensation; his
doctrine is in direct negation of Descartes’ theory of innate
ideas, and would be fatal to the orthodox dogma of mind as spiritual.
“Whatever we imagine,” he says “is finite. Therefore there is no
idea, no conception of anything we call infinite.” In a brief pamphlet
on his own views, published in 1680, in reply to attacks upon him, he
writes: “Besides the creation of the world there is no argument to
prove a Deity,” “and that it cannot be decided by any argument that
the world had a beginning; but he professes to admit the authority of
the Magistrate and the Scriptures to override argument. He says that he
does not believe that the safety of the state depends upon the safety of
the church.” Some of Hobbes’ pieces were only in Latin, others were
issued in English. In one of those on Heresy, he mentions that by the
statute of Edward VI, cap. 12, there is no provision for the repeal of
all former acts of parliament “made to punish any matter of doctrine
concerning religion.”

In the following extracts the reader will find the prominent features of
that sensationalism which to-day has so many adherents:—“Concerning
the thoughts of man, I will consider them first singly, and afterwards
in a train or dependence upon one another. Singly they are every one a
representation or appearance of some quality or other accident of a body
without us, which is commonly called an object. Which object worketh on
the eyes, ears, and other parts of a man’s body, and by diversity of
working produceth diversity of appearances. The original of them all is
that which we call sense, for there is no conception in a man’s mind
which hath not at first totally or by parts been begotten upon the
organs of sense. The rest are derived from that original.” The effect
of this is to deny any possible knowledge other than as results from the
activity of the sensitive faculties, and is also fatal to the doctrine
of a soul. “According,” says Hobbes, “to the two principal parts
of man, I divide his faculties into two sorts—faculties of the body,
and faculties of the mind. Since the minute and distinct anatomy of the
powers of the body is nothing necessary to the present purpose, I
will only sum them up in these three heads—power nutritive, power
generative, and power motive. Of the powers of the mind there be two
sorts—cognitive, imaginative, or conceptive, and motive. For the
understanding of what I mean by the power cognitive, we must remember
and acknowledge that there be in our minds continually certain images or
conceptions of the things without us. This imagery and representation
of the qualities of the things without, is that which we call our
conception, imagination, ideas, notice, or knowledge of them; and the
faculty, or power by which we are capable of such knowledge, is that
I here call cognitive power, or conceptive, the power of knowing or
conceiving.” “All the qualities called sensible are, in the object
that causeth them, but so many several motions of the matter by which
it presseth on our organs diversely. Neither in us that are pressed are
they anything else but divers motions; for motion produceth nothing but
motion. Because the image in vision, consisting of color and shape, is
the knowledge we have of the qualities of the objects of that sense;
it is no hard matter for a man to fall into this opinion that the same
color and shape are the very qualities themselves, and for the same
cause that sound and noise are the qualities of the bell or of the air.
And this opinion hath been so long received that the contrary must needs
appear a great paradox, and yet the introduction of species visible and
intelligible (which is necessary for the maintenance of that opinion)
passing to and fro from the object is worse than any paradox, as being
a plain impossibility. I shall therefore endeavor to make plain these
points. That the subject wherein color and image are inherent, is not
the object or thing seen. That there is nothing without us (really)
which we call an image or color. That the said image or color is but
an apparition unto us of the motion, agitation, or alteration which the
object worketh in the brain, or spirits, or some internal substance of
the head. That as in visions, so also in conceptions that arise from the
other senses, the subject of their inference is not the object but the
sentient.” Strange to say, Hobbes was protected from his clerical
antagonists by the favor of Charles II, who had the portrait of the
philosopher of Malmesbury hung on the walls of his private room at
Whitehall.

Lord Herbert, of Cherbury (one of the friends of Hobbes) born 1581,
died 1648, is remarkable for having written a book “De Veritate,”
in favor of natural—and against any necessity for revealed—religion;
and yet at the same time pleading a sort of special sign or revelation
to himself in favor of its publication.

Peter Gassendi, a native of Provence, born 1592, died 1655, was one of
the opponents of Descartes and of Lord Herbert, and was an admirer
of Hobbes; he advocated the old philosophy of Epicurus, professing to
reject “from it everything contrary to Christianity.” “But,”
asks Cousin, “how could he succeed in this? Principles, processes,
results, everything in Epicurus is sensualism, materialism, Atheism.”
Gassendi’s works were characterised by great learning and ability, but
being confined to the Latin tongue, and written avowedly with the intent
of avoiding any conflict with the church, they gave but little immediate
impetus to the great heretical movement. Arnauld charges Gassendi
with overturning the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, in his
discussion with Descartes, and Leibnitz charges Gassendi with corrupting
and injuring the whole system of natural religion by the wavering nature
of his opinions. Buckle says: “The rapid increase of heresy in the
middle of the seventeenth century is very remarkable, and it greatly
aided civilisation in England by encouraging habits of independent
thought.” In February 1646, Boyle writes from London: “There are
few days pass here, that may not justly be accused of the brewing or
broaching of some new opinion. If any man have lost his religion, let
him repair to London, and I’ll warrant him he shall find it: I had
almost said too, and if any man has a religion, let him but come hither
now and he shall go near to lose it.”

About 1655, one Isaac La Peyrere wrote two small treatises to prove that
the world was peopled before Adam, but being arrested at Brussels, and
threatened with the stake, he, to escape the fiery refutation, made
a full recantation of his views, and restored to the world its
dearly-prized stain of natural depravity, and to Adam his position as
the first man. La Peyrere’s forced recantation is almost forgotten,
the opinions he recanted are now amongst common truths.

Baruch D’Espinoza or Benedict Spinoza, was born Nov. 24, 1632,
in Amsterdam; an apt scholar, he, at the early age of fourteen, had
mastered the ordinary tasks set him by his teacher, the Rabbi Moteira,
and at fifteen puzzled and affrighted the grave heads of the synagogue,
by attempting the solution of problems which they themselves were
well content to pass by. As he grew older his reason took more daring
flights, and after attempts had been made to bribe him into submissive
silence, when threats had failed to check or modify him, and when even
the knife had no effect, then the fury of disappointed fanaticism found
vent in the bitter curse of excommunication, and when about twenty-four
years of age, Spinoza found himself outcast and anathematised. Having
no private means or rich patrons, and differing in this from nearly
everyone whose name we have yet given, our hero subsisted as a polisher
of glasses, microscopes, etc., devoting his leisure to the study of
languages and philosophy. There are few men as to whom modern writers
have so widely differed in the description of their views, few who have
been so thoroughly misrepresented. Bayle speaks of him as a systematic
Atheist. Saintes says that he laid the foundations of a Pantheism
as destructive to scholastic philosophy as to all revealed religion.
Voltaire repeatedly writes of Spinoza as an Atheist and teacher of
Atheism. Samuel Taylor Coleridge speaks of Spinoza as an Atheist, and
prefaces this opinion with the following passage, which we commend to
more orthodox and less acute writers:—“Little do these men know what
Atheism is. Not one man in a thousand has either strength of mind,
or goodness of heart to be an Atheist. I repeat it—Not one man in a
thousand has either goodness of heart, or strength of mind, to be an
Atheist.” “And yet,” says Froude, “both in friend and enemy
alike, there has been a reluctance to see Spinoza as he really was.
The Herder and Schleiermacher school have claimed him as a Christian,
a position which no little disguise was necessary to make tenable; the
orthodox Protestants and Catholics have called him an Atheist, which is
still more extravagant; and even a man like Novalis, who, it might
have been expected, would have said something reasonable, could find no
better name for him than a ‘Gott trunkener mann,’ a God intoxicated
man: an expression which has been quoted by every-body who has since
written on the subject, and which is about as inapplicable as those
laboriously pregnant sayings usually are. With due allowance for
exaggeration, such a name would describe tolerably the transcendental
mystics, a Toler, a Boehmen, or a Swedenborg; but with what justice
can it be applied to the cautious, methodical Spinoza, who carried his
thoughts about with him for twenty years, deliberately shaping them, and
who gave them at last to the world in a form more severe than with such
subjects had ever been so much as attempted before? With him, as with
all great men, there was no effort after sublime emotions. He was a
plain, practical person; his object in philosophy was only to find a
rule by which to govern his own actions and his own judgment; and his
treatises contain no more than the conclusions at which he arrived
in this purely personal search, with the grounds on which he rested
them.”

Spinoza, who was wise enough to know that it was utterly useless to
expect an unfettered examination of philosophical problems by men who
are bound to accept as an infallible arbiter any particular book, and
who knew that reasonings must be of a very limited character which took
the alleged Hebrew Revelation as the centre and starting point for
all inquiry, and also as the circling limitation line for all
investigation—devoted himself to the task of examining how far the
ordinary orthodox doctrines as to the infallibility of the Old
Testament were fairly maintainable. It was for this reason he penned his
“Tractatus Theologico-Politicus,” wherein he says: “We see that
they who are most under the influence of superstitious feelings, and who
covet uncertainties without stint or measure, more especially when they
fall into difficulty or danger, cannot help themselves, are the persons,
who, with vows and prayers and womanly tears, implore the Divine
assistance; who call reason blind, and human wisdom vain; and all,
forsooth, because they cannot find an assured way to the vanities they
desire.” “The mainspring of superstition is fear; by fear too is
superstition sustained and nourished.” “Men are chiefly assailed by
superstition when suffering from fear, and all they then do in the name
of a vain religion is, in fact, but the vaporous product of a sorrowful
spirit, the delirium of a mind overpowered by terror.” He proceeds:
“I have often wondered that men who boast of the great advantage
they enjoy under the Christian dispensation—the peace, the joy
they experience, the brotherly love they feel towards all in its
exercise—should nevertheless contend with so much acrimony, and show
such intolerance and unappeasable hatred towards one another. If faith
had to be inferred from action rather than profession, it would indeed
be impossible to say to what sect or creed the majority of mankind
belong.” He laid down that “No one is bound by natural law to live
according to the pleasure of another, but that every one is by natural
title the rightful asserter of his own independence,” and that “he
or they govern best who concede to every one the privilege of thinking
as he pleases, and of saying what he thinks.” Criticising the Hebrew
prophets, he points out that “God used no particular style in making
his communications; but in the same measure as the prophet possessed
learning and ability, his communications were either concise and
clear, or on the contrary, they were rude, prolix, and obscure.” The
representations of Zechariah, as we learn from the accounts themselves,
were so obscure that without an explanation they could not be understood
by himself; and those of Daniel were so dark, that even when explained,
they were still unintelligible, not to others only, but also to the
prophet himself. He argues entirely against miracles, as either
contrary to nature or above nature, declaring any such to be “a sheer
absurdity,” “merum esse absurdum.” Of the Scriptures themselves
he points out that the ancient Hebrew is entirely lost. “Of the
authors, or, if you please, writers, of many books, we either know
almost nothing, or we entertain grave doubts as to the correctness with
which the several books are ascribed to the parties whose names they
bear.” “Then we neither know on what occasion, nor at what time
those books were indited, the writers of which are unknown to us.
Further, we know nothing of the hands into which the books fell; nor
of the codices which have furnished such a variety of readings, nor
whether, perchance, there were not many other variations in other
copies.” Voltaire says of Spinoza: “Not only in the character of a
Jew he attacks the New Testament, but in the character of a scholar he
ruins the Old.”

The logic of Spinoza was directed to the demonstration of one substance
with infinite attributes, for which one substance with infinite
attributes he had as equivalent the name “God.” Some who have since
followed Spinoza, have agreed in his one substance, but have denied the
possibility of infinite attributes. Attributes or qualities, they
urge, are attributes of the finite or conditioned, and you cannot have
attributes of substance except as attributes of its modes. You have
in this distinction the division line between Spinozism and Atheism.
Spinoza recognises infinite intelligence, but Atheism cannot conceive
intelligence except in relation as quality of the conditioned, and not
as the essence of the absolute. Spinoza denied the doctrine of freewill,
as with him all phenomena are of God, so he rejects the ordinary notions
of good and evil. The popular views of Spinoza in the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries were chiefly derived from the volumes of his
antagonists; men learned his name because priests abused him, few
had perused his works for themselves. To-day we may fairly say that
Spinoza’s logic and his biblical criticisms gave a vigor and force to
the heresy of the latter half of the seventeenth and beginning of the
eighteenth century, a directness and effectiveness therebefore wanting.
As for the Bible, there was no longer an affected reverence for every
yod or comma, church traditions were ignored wherever inconsistent with
reason, and the law itself was boldly challenged when its letter was
against the spirit of human progress.

One of the greatest promoters of heresy in England was Ralph Cudworth,
born 1617, died 1688. He wrote to combat the Atheistical tenets
which were then commencing to obtain popularity in England, and was a
controversialist so fair and candid in the statement of the opinions of
his antagonists, that he was actually charged with heresy himself, and
the epithets of Arian, Socinian, Deist, and even Atheist were freely
leveled against him. “He has raised,” says Dryden, “such strong
objections against the being of a God and Providence, that many think
he has not answered them.” The clamor of bigotry seems to have
discouraged Cudworth, and he left many of his works unprinted. Cousin
describes him as “a Platonist, of a firm and profound mind, who bends
somewhat under the weight of his erudition.”

Thomas Burnett, born 1635, died 1715, a clergyman of the Church
of England, though in high favor with King William and the famous
Archbishop Tillotson, is said to have been shut out of preferment in the
church chiefly, if not entirely, on account of his many heterodox views.
He did not accept the orthodox notions on the Mosaic account of the
creation, fall, and deluge. Regarding the account of the fall as
allegorical, he argued for the ultimate salvation of everyone, and of
course denied the doctrine of eternal torment. In a curious passage
relating to the equivocations of a large number of the clergy in openly
taking the oath of allegiance to William III, while secretly supporting
James as King, Burnet says: “The prevarication of too many in so
sacred a matter contributed not a little to fortify the growing Atheism
of the time.”

As Descartes and Spinoza had been foremost on the continent, so was
Locke in England, and no sketch of the progress of heresy during the
seventeenth century would be deserving serious regard which did not
accord a prominent place to John Locke, whom G.H. Lewes calls “one
of the Wisest of Englishmen,” and of whom Buckle speaks as “an
innovator in his philosophy, and a Unitarian in his creed.” He was
born in 1632, and died in 1704. Locke, according to his own fashion, was
a sincere and earnest Christian; but this has not saved him from being
furiously assailed for the materialistic character of his philosophy,
and many have been ready to assert that Locke’s principles “lead to
Atheism.” In politics Locke laid down, that unjust and unlawful force
on the part of the Government might and ought to be resisted by force on
the part of the citizens. He urged that on questions of theology there
ought to be no penalties consequent upon the reception or rejection of
any particular religious opinion. How far those were right who regarded
Locke’s metaphysical reasoning as dangerous to orthodoxy may be judged
by the following extract on the origin of ideas:—

“Follow a child from its birth and observe the alterations that time
makes, and you shall find, as the mind by the senses comes more and more
to be furnished with ideas, it comes to be more and more awake; thinks
more, the more it has matter to think on. After some time, it begins to
know the objects, which being most familiar with it, have made lasting
impressions. Thus it comes, by degrees, to know the persons it daily
converses with, and distinguishes them from strangers; which are
instances and effects of its coming to retain and distinguish the ideas
the senses convey to it; and so we may observe, how the mind by degrees
improves in these, and advances to the exercise of those other faculties
of enlarging, compounding, and abstracting its ideas, and of reasoning
about them, and reflecting upon all these.

“If it shall be demanded then, when a man begins to have any ideas?
I think the true answer is, when he first has any sensation. For since
there appear not to be any ideas in the mind before the senses have
conveyed any in, I conceive that ideas in the understanding are coeval
with sensation; which is such an impression or emotion, made in some
part of the body, as produces some perception in the understanding. It
is about these impressions made on our senses by outward objects, that
the mind seems first to employ itself in such operations as we call
perception, remembering, consideration, reasoning, etc.

“In time, the mind comes to reflect on its own operations, about the
ideas got by sensation, and thereby stores itself with a new set of
ideas, which I call ideas of reflexion. These are the impressions that
are made on our senses by outward objects, that are extrinsical to the
mind; and its own operation, proceeding from powers intrinsical and
proper to itself, which, when reflected on by itself, becoming also
objects of its contemplation, are, as I have said, the original of all
knowledge. Thus the first capacity of human intellect is, that the mind
is fitted to receive the impressions made on it, either through the
senses, by outward objects, or by its own operations, when it reflects
on them. This is the first step a man makes towards the discovery of
anything, and the ground-work whereon to build all those notions which
ever he shall have naturally in this world. All those sublime thoughts
which tower above the clouds, and reach as high as heaven itself, take
their rise and footing here: in all that good extent wherein the mind
wanders, in those remote speculations, it may seem to be elevated with,
it stirs not one jot beyond those ideas which sense or reflexion have
offered for its contemplation.

“In this part the understanding is merely passive; and whether or no
it will have these beginnings, and, as it were, materials of knowledge,
is not in its own power. For the objects of our senses do, many of them,
obtrude their particular ideas upon our minds, whether we will or no;
and the operations of our minds will not let us be without, at least,
some obscure notions of them. No man can be wholly ignorant of what he
does when he thinks. These simple ideas, when offered to the mind,
the understanding can no more refuse to have, nor alter, when they are
imprinted, nor blot them out and make new ones itself, than a mirror can
refuse, alter, or obliterate the images or ideas which the objects
set before it do therein produce. As the bodies that surround us
do diversely affect our organs, the mind is forced to receive the
impressions, and cannot avoid the perception of those ideas that are
annexed to them.”

The distinction pointed out by Lewes between Locke and Hobbes and
Gassendi, is that the two latter taught that all our ideas were derived
from sensations, while Locke said there were two sources, not one
source, and these two were sensation and reflexion. Locke was in style
a more popular writer than Hobbes, and the heretical effect of the
doctrines on the mind not being so immediately perceived in consequence
of Locke’s repeated declarations in favor of Christianity, his
metaphysical productions were more widely read than those of Hobbes; but
Locke really teaches the same doctrine as that laid down by Robert Owen
in his views on the formation of character; and his views on sensation,
as the primary source of ideas, are fatal to all notions of innate ideas
and of freewill. Voltaire, speaking of Locke, says:—“‘We shall,
perhaps, never be capable of knowing whether a being purely material
thinks or not.’ This judicious and guarded observation was considered
by more than one divine, as neither more nor less than a scandalous and
impious declaration, that the soul is material and mortal. Some English
devotees, after their usual manner, sounded the alarm. The superstitious
are in society what poltroons are in an army—they both feel and
excite causeless terror. The cry was, that Mr. Locke wished to overturn
religion; the subject, however, had nothing to do with religion at all;
it was purely a philosophical question, and perfectly independent of
faith and revelation.” One clergyman, the Rev. William Carrol, wrote,
charging Atheism as the result of Locke’s teaching. The famous Sir
Isaac Newton even grew so alarmed with the materialistic tendency
of Locke’s philosophy, that when John Locke was reported sick and
unlikely to live, it is credibly stated that Newton went so far as
to say that it would be well if the author of the essay on the
Understanding were already dead.

In 1689, one Cassimer Leszynski, a Polish knight, was burned at Warsaw
for denying the being and providence of a God; but there are no easy
means of learning whether the charge arose from prejudice on the part
of his accusers, or whether this unfortunate gentleman really held
Atheistic views.

Peter Bayle, born at Carlat, in Foix, 1647, died in Holland, 1706, was a
writer of great power and brilliancy and wide learning. Without standing
avowedly on the side of scepticism, he did much to promote sceptical
views amongst the rapidly growing class of men of letters. He declared
that it was better to be an Atheist, than to have a false or unworthy
idea of God; that a man can be at the same time an Atheist and an honest
man, and that a people without a religion is capable of good order.
Bayle’s writings grew more heretical towards the latter part of his
career, and he suffered considerable persecution at the hands of the
Church, for having spoken too plainly of the character of David. He said
that “if David was the man after God’s own heart, it must have been
by his penitence, not by his crimes.” Bayle might have added, that the
record of David’s penitence is not easily discoverable in any part of
the narrative of his life.

Matthew Tindal, born 1656, died 1733, was, though the son of a clergyman
of the Established Church, one of the first amongst the school of
Deistical writers who became so prominent in the beginning of the
eighteenth century. Dr. Pye Smith catalogues him as “an Atheist,”
but we know no ground for this. He was a zealous controversialist, and
commencing by attacking priests, he continued his attack against
the revelation they preached. He was a frequent writer, but his
“Christianity as old as the Creation” is his chief work, and the one
which has provoked the greatest amount of discussion. It was published
nearly at the close of his life, and after he had seen others of his
writings burned by the common hangman. Dr. Matthew Tindal helped much to
shake belief in the Bible, those who wrote against him did much more; if
no one had replied to Tindal, his attacks on revelation would have been
read by few, but in answering the heretic, Bishop Waterland and his
*confrères* gave wider circulation to Tindal’s heresy.

John Toland was born Nov. 30, 1670, at Londonderry, but was educated in
Scotland. He died 1722. His publications were all about the close of
the seventeenth and commencement of the eighteenth centuries, and the
ability of his contributions to popular instruction may be judged by
the abusive epithets heaped upon him by his opponents. While severely
attacking the bulk of the clergy as misleaders of the people, and while
also assailing some of the chief orthodox notions, he yet, either in
order to escape the law, or from the effect of his religious education,
professed a respect for what he was pleased to call true Christianity,
but which we should be inclined to consider, at the least, somewhat
advanced Unitarianism. At last, however, his works were ordered to be
burned by the common hangman, and to escape arrest and prosecution he
had to flee to the Continent. Dr. J. Pye Smith describes Toland as a
Pantheist, and calls his Pantheisticon “an Atheistic Liturgy.” In
one of Toland’s essays he laments “how hard it is to come to a
truth yourself, and how dangerous a thing to publish to others.” The
publications of Toland were none of them very bulky although numerous,
and as most of them were fiercely assailed by the orthodox clergy, they
helped to excite popular interest in England in the critical examination
of the Scriptures and the doctrines therein taught.

Besides the few authors to whom attention is here drawn, there were
numerous men who—each for a little while, and often coming out from
the lower ranks of the people themselves—stirred the hitherto
almost stagnant pool of popular thought with some daring utterance or
extravagant statement. Fanatics some, mystics some, alchemists some,
materialists some, but all crude and imperfect in their grasp of the
subject they advocated, they nevertheless all helped to agitate the
human mind, to render it more restless and inquiring, and thus they
all promoted the march of heresy. One feature of the history of the
seventeenth century shows how much philosophy had gained ground, and how
deep its roots were striking throughout the European world—viz., that
nearly all the writers wrote in the vulgar tongue of their country, or
there were published editions of their works in that tongue. A century
earlier, and but few escaped from the narrow bonds of learned Latin:
two centuries before, and none got outside the Latin folios; but in this
century theology, metaphysics, philosophy, and politics are discussed
in French, German, English, and Italian. The commonest reader may peruse
the most learned author, for the writing is in a language which he
cannot help knowing.

There were in this century a large number of writers in England and
throughout Europe, who, taking the Bible as a starting-point and
limitation for their philosophy, broached wonderful theories as to
creation, etc., in which reason and revelation were sought to be made
harmonious. Enfield, a most orthodox writer, in his “History of
Philosophy,” says: “Who does not perceive, from the particulars
which have been related concerning these Scriptural philosophers, that
their labors, however well intended, have been of little benefit to
philosophy? Their fundamental error has consisted in supposing that the
sacred Scriptures were intended, not only to instruct men in all things
necessary to their salvation, but to teach the true principles of
physical and metaphysical science.” How pregnant the admission that
revelation and science cannot be expected to accord—an admission which
in truth declares that in all philosophical research it its necessary
to go beyond the Bible, if not to go against it—an admission which
involves the declaration, that so long as men are bound by the letter of
the Bible, so long all philosophical progress is impossible.

In this century the English Church lost much of the political power it
had hitherto wielded. It was in 1625, that William, Bishop of Lincoln,
was dismissed from the office of Lord Keeper, and since his day no
ecclesiastic has held the great seal of England, and to-day who even
in the Church itself would dream of trying to make a bishop Lord
Chancellor? The church lost ground in the conflict with Charles; this
it might perhaps have recovered, but it suffered irretrievable loss of
prestige in its struggle with William.


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Chapter IV. The Eighteenth Century
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.. dropcap:: T THE


THE eighteenth century deserves that the penman who touches its records
shall have some virility; for these records contain, not only the
narrative of the rapid growth of the new philosophy in France, England,
and Germany, where its roots had been firmly struck in the previous
century, but they also give the history of a glorious endeavor on the
part of a down-trodden and long-suffering people, weakened and degraded
by generations of starvation and oppression, to break the yoke of
tyranny and superstition. Eighteenth century historians can write how
the men of France, after having been cursed by a long race of kings, who
never dreamed of identifying their interests with those of the people;
after enduring centuries of tyranny from priests, whose only gods were
power, pleasure, and mammon, and at the hands of nobles, who denied
civil rights to their serfs; at last, could endure no longer, but
electrified into life by eighteenth-century heresy, “spurned under
foot the idols of tyranny and superstition,” and sought “by the
influence of reason to erect on the ruins of arbitrary power the
glorious edifice of civil and religious liberty.” Why Frenchmen then
failed in giving permanent success to their heroic endeavor, is not
difficult to explain, when we consider that every tyranny in Europe
united against that young republic to which the monarchy had bequeathed
a legacy of a wretched pauper people, a people whose minds had been
hitherto wholly in the hands of the priests, whose passions had revolted
against wrong, but whose brains were yet too weak for the permanent
enjoyment of the freedom temporarily resulting from physical effort.
Eighteenth-century heresy is especially noticeable for its immediate
connexion with political change. For the first time in European history,
the great mass commenced to yearn for the assertion in government of
democratic principles. The French Republican Revolution, which overthrew
Louis XVI and the Bastille, was only possible because the heretical
teachers who preceded it had weakened the divine right of kingcraft; and
it was ultimately unsuccessful, only because an overwhelming majority
of the people were as yet not sufficiently released from the thraldom of
the church, and therefore fell before the allied despotisms of Europe,
who were aided by the Catholic priests, who naturally plotted against
the spirit which seemed likely to make men too independent to be pious.

In Germany the liberation of the masses from the dominion of the Church
of Rome was effected with the, at first, active believing concurrence
of the nation; in England this was not so. Protestantism here was the
result rather of the influence and interests of the King and Court, and
of the indifference of the great body of the people. The Reformed Church
of England, sustained by the crown and aristocracy, has generally
left the people to find their own way to heaven or hell, and has only
required abstinence from avowed denial of, or active opposition to, its
tenets. Its ministers have usually preached with the same force to a few
worshippers scattered over their grand cathedrals and numerous churches
as to a thronging crowd, but in each case there has been a lack of
vitality in the sermon. It is only when the material interests of the
church have been apparently threatened that vigor has been shown on the
part of its teachers.

It is a curious fact, and one for comment hereafter, that while in the
modern struggle for the progress of heresy its sixteenth-century
pages present many most prominent Italian names, when we come to the
eighteenth century there are but few such names worthy special notice;
it is no longer from the extreme South, but from France, Germany, and
England, that you have the great array of Freethinking warriors. Those
whom Italy boasts, too, are now nearly all in the Idealistic ranks.

We commenced the list by a brief reference to Bernard Man-deville, a
Dutch physician, born at Dordrecht in 1670, and who died in 1733; a
writer with great power as a satirist, whose fable of the “Bees, or
Private Vices made Public Benefits,” not only served as source for
much of Helvetius, but had the double honor of an indictment at the
Middlesex session, and an answer from the pen of Bishop Berkeley.

One of the early, and perhaps one of the most important promoters of
heresy in the United Kingdom, was George Berkeley, an Irishman by birth.
He was born on the 12th of March, 1684, at Kilcrin, and died at Oxford
in 1753. It was this writer to whom Pope assigned “every virtue under
heaven,” and of whom Byron wrote::

          “When Bishop Berkeley said ‘there was no matter,’
          And proved it—’twas no matter what he said:
          They say his system ’tis in vain to batter,
          Too subtle for the airiest human head;
          And yet who can believe it?”

A writer in the “Encyclopædia Metropolitana” describes him as “the
one, perhaps, whose heart was most free from scepticism, and whose
understanding was most prone to it.” Berkeley is here dealt with as
one specially contributing to the growth of sceptical thought, and not
as an Idealist only. Arthur Collier published, about the same time as
Berkeley, several works in which absolute Idealism is advocated.
Collier and Berkeley were mouthpieces for the expression of an effort
at resistance against the growing Spinozistic school. They wrote
against substance assumed as the “noumenon lying underneath all
phenomena—the substratum supporting all qualities—the something
in which all accidents inhere.” Collier and his writings are almost
unknown; Berkeley’s name has become famous, and his arguments have
served to excite far wider scepticism than have those of any other
Englishman of his age. Most religious men who read him misunderstand
him, and nearly all misrepresent his theory. Hume, speaking of Berkeley,
says: “Most of the writings of that very ingenious philosopher form
the best lessons of scepticism which are to be found, either among
the ancient or modern philosophers, Bayle not excepted. He professes,
however, in his title page (and undoubtedly with great truth) to have
composed his book against the sceptics, as well as against the Atheists
and Freethinkers. But that all his arguments, though otherwise intended,
are in reality merely sceptical, appears from this, that they admit of
no answer, and produce no conviction.”

Berkeley wrote for those who “want a demonstration of the existence
and immateriality of God, or the natural immortality of the soul,” and
his philosophy was intended to check materialism. The key-note of his
works may be found in his declaration: “The only thing whose
existence I deny, is that which philosophers call Matter or corporeal
substance.” The definition given by Berkeley of matter is one which
no materialist will be ready to accept, i.e., “an inert, senseless
substance in which extension, figure, and motion do actually
exist.” The “Principles of Human Knowledge” is the work in which
Berkeley’s Idealism is chiefly set forth, and many have been the
volumes and pamphlets written in reply. Whatever might have been
Berkeley’s intention as to refuting scepticism, the result of his
labors was to increase it in no ordinary degree. Dr. Pye Smith thus
summarises Berkeley’s views:—“He denied the existence of matter
as a cause of our perceptions, but firmly maintained the existence
of created and dependent spirits, of which every man is one; that to
suppose the existence of sensible qualities and of a material world,
is an erroneous deduction from the fact of our perceptions; that those
perceptions are nothing but ideas and thoughts in our minds; that these
are produced in perfect uniformity, order, and consistency in all minds,
so that their occurrence is according to fixed rules, which may be
called the laws of nature; that the Deity is either the immediate or
the mediate cause of these perceptions, by his universal operation on
created minds; and that the created mind has a power of managing these
perceptions, so that volitions arise, and all the phenomena of moral
action and responsibility. The great reply to this is, that it is a
hypothesis which cannot be proved, which is highly improbable, and
which seems to put upon the Deity the inflicting on man a perpetual
delusion.”

The weakness of Berkeley’s system as a mere question of logic is, that
while he requires the most rigorous demonstration of the existence of
what he defines as matter, he assumes an eternal spirit with various
attributes, and also creates spirits of various sorts. He creates the
states of mind resulting from the sensation of surrounding phenomena
into ideas, existing independent of the ego, when in truth, man’s
ideas are not in addition to man’s mind; but the aggregate of
sensative ability, and the result of its exercise is the mind, just as
the aggregate of functional ability and activity is life. The foundation
of Berkeley’s faith in the invisible “eternal spirit,” in angels
as “created spirits,” is difficult to discover, when you accept his
argument for the rejection of visible phenomena. He in truth should
have rejected everything save his own mind, for the mental processes
are clearly not always reliable. In dreams, in delirium, in insanity, in
temporary disease of particular nerves of sensation, in some phases of
magnetic influence, the ideas which Berkeley sustains so forcibly are
admittedly delusions.

As in George Berkeley, so we have in Bishop Butler, an illustration of
the endeavor to check the rapidly enlarging scepticism of this century.
Joseph Butler was born in 1692, died 1752, and will be long known by his
famous work on the “Analogy of Religion to the course of Nature.” In
this place it is not our duty to do more than point out a few features
of the argument, observing that this elaborate piece of special
pleading for natural and revealed religion, is evidence that danger was
apprehended by the clergy, from the spread of Freethought views amongst
the masses. A popular reply was written to provide against the growing
popular objection. Bishop Butler argues that “we know that we are
endued with certain capacities of action, of happiness and misery; for
we are conscious of acting, of enjoying pleasure, and of suffering
pain. Now that we have these powers and capacities before death, is a
presumption that we shall retain them through and after death; indeed,
a probability of it abundantly sufficient to act upon, unless there be
some positive reason to think that death is the destruction of those
living powers.” It may be fairly submitted, in reply, that here the
argument from analogy is as utterly faulty, as if in the spring season a
traveller should say of a wayside pool, it is here before the summer sun
shines upon it, and will be here during and after the summer drought,
when ordinary experience would teach him that as the pool is only
gathered during the rainy season in the hollow ground, so in the dry hot
summer days, it will be gradually evaporated under the blazing rays of
the July sun. As to the human capacities, experience teaches us that
they have changed with the condition of the body; emotional feelings and
animal passions, the gratification of which ensured temporary pleasure
or pain, have varied, have been newly felt, and have died out in
different periods and conditions of our lives, and the presumption is
against the complete endurance of all these “capacities for action,”
etc., even during the whole life, and much more strongly, therefore,
against their endurance after death. Besides which—continuing the
argument from analogy—my “capacities” having only been manifested
since my body has existed, and in proportion to my physical ability, the
presumption is rather that the manifestation which commenced with the
body will finish as the body finishes. Further, it is fair to presume
that “death is the destruction of those living powers,” for death is
the cessation of organic functional activity; a cessation consequent
on some change or destruction of organisation. Of course, the word
“destruction” is not here used in any sense of annihilation
of substance, but as meaning such a change of condition that vital
phenomena are no longer manifested. But, says Butler, “we know not at
all what death is in itself, but only some of its effects, such as the
dissolution of flesh, skin, and bones, and these effects do in nowise
appear to imply the destruction of a living agent.” Here, perhaps,
there is an unjustifiable assumption in the words “living agent,”
for if by living agent is only meant the animal which dies, then the
destruction of flesh, skin, and bones does fairly imply the destruction
of the living agent, but if by living agent is intended more than this,
then the argument is speciously and unfairly worded. But beyond this, if
Bishop Butler’s argument has any value, it proves too much. He says:
“Nor can we find anything throughout the whole analogy of nature, to
afford us even the slightest presumption that animals ever lose their
living powers... by death.” That is, Bishop Butler, applies his
argument for a future state of existence, not only to man, but to the
whole animal kingdom; and it may be fairly conceded that there is as
much ground to presume that man will live again, as there is that the
worm will live again, which, being impaled upon a hook, is eaten by the
gudgeon, or that the gudgeon will live again which, threadled as a bait,
is torn and mangled to death by a ravenous pike, or that the pike will
live again after it has been kept out of water till rigid, then gutted,
scaled, stuffed with savory condiments, broiled, and ultimately eaten
by Piscator and his family. Bishop Butler’s argument that because
pleasure or pain is uniformly found to follow the acting or not acting
in some particular manner, there is presumptive analogy in favor of
future rewards and punishments by Deity, appears weak in the extreme.
According to Butler, God is the author of nature. Nature’s laws are
such, that punishment, immediate or remote, follows nonobservance, and
reward, more or less immediate, is the result of observance; and because
God is, by Butler’s argument, assumed as the author of nature, and has
therefore already punished or rewarded once, we are following Butler,
to presume that he will after death punish or reward again for an action
upon which he has already adjudicated. In his chapter on the Moral
Government of God, Butler says: “As the manifold appearances of design
and of final causes in the constitution of the world prove it to be the
work of an intelligent mind, so the particular final causes of pleasure
and pain distributed amongst his creatures prove that they are under
his government—what may be called his natural government of creatures
endowed with sense and reason.” But taking Bishop Butler’s own
position, what sort of government is demonstrated by this argument from
analogy? God, according to Bishop Butler’s reasoning, designed the
whale to swallow the Clio Borealis, which latter he designed to be so
swallowed, but which he nevertheless invested with some 360,000 suckers,
to enable it in its turn to seize the minute animalculæ on which it
lives. God designed Brutus to kill Cesar, Orsini to be beheaded by Louis
Napoleon. These, according to Butler, would be all under the special
control of God’s government. Bishop Butler’s theory that our present
life is a state of trial and probation is met by the difficulty, that
while he assumes the justice and benevolence of God as moral governor,
he has the fact that many exist with organisations and capacities so
originally different, that it is manifestly most unfair to put one and
the same reward, or one and the same punishment for all. The Esquimaux
or Negro is not on a level at the outset of life with the Caucasian
races. How from analogy can anyone argue in favor of the doctrine that
an impartial judge who had started them in the race of life unfairly
matched, would put the same prize before all, none of the starters being
handicapped? Bishop Butler’s argument on the doctrine of necessity, is
that which one might expect to find from a hired *nisi prius* advocate,
but which is read with regret coming from the pen of a gentleman who
ought to be striving to convince his erring brethren by the words of
truth alone. He says, suppose a child to be educated from his earliest
youth in the principles of “fatalism,” what then? The reply is, that
a necessitarian knowing that a certain education of the human mind
was most conducive to human happiness, would strive to impart to his
children education of that character. That a worse “fatalism”
is inculcated in the doctrine of a foreordaining and ever-directing
providence, planning and controlling every one of the child’s actions,
than ever was taught in necessitarian essays. That the child would be
taught the laws of existence, and would be shown how certain conduct
resulted in pleasure, and certain other conduct was during life attended
with pain, and that the result of such teaching would be far more
efficacious in its moral results, than the inculcation of a present
responsibility, and an ultimate heaven and hell, in which latter
doctrine, nearly all Christians profess to believe, but nearly all act
as if it were not of the slightest consequence whether any such paradise
or infernal region exists.

Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke, born October 1, 1672, died November
15, 1751, may be taken as one of the school of polished deistical
writers, who, though comparatively few, fairly enough represents the
religious opinions of the large majority of the journalists of the
present day. In the course of Bolingbroke’s “Letters on the Study of
History” a strong sceptical spirit is manifested, and he speaks in
one of “the share which the divines of all religions have taken in the
corruption of history.” In another he thus deals with the question
of the Bible:—“It has been said by Abbadie, and others, ‘that the
accidents which have happened to alter the texts of the Bible, and to
disfigure, if I may say so, the scriptures in many respects, could not
have been prevented without a perpetual standing miracle, and that a
perpetual standing miracle is not in the order of providence.’ Now I
can by no means subscribe to this opinion. It seems evident to my reason
that the very contrary must be true; if we suppose that God acts towards
men according to the moral fitness of things; and if we suppose that he
acts arbitrarily, we can form no opinion at all. I think these accidents
would not have happened, or that the scriptures would have been
preserved entirely in their genuine purity notwithstanding these
accidents, if they had been entirely dictated by the Holy Ghost: and the
proof of this probable proposition, according to our clearest and most
distinct ideas of wisdom and moral fitness, is obvious and easy. But
these scriptures are not so come down to us: they are come down broken
and confused, full of additions, interpolations, and transpositions,
made we neither know when, nor by whom; and such, in short, as never
appeared on the face of any other book, on whose authority men have
agreed to rely. This being so, my lord, what hypothesis shall we follow?
Shall we adhere to some such distinction as I have mentioned? Shall we
say, for instance, that the scriptures were originally written by the
authors to whom they are vulgarly ascribed, but that these authors
writ nothing by inspiration, except the legal, the doctrinal, and the
prophetical parts, and that in every other respect their authority
is purely human, and therefore fallible? Or shall we say that these
histories are nothing more than compilations of old traditions, and
abridgements of old records, made in later times, as they appear to
every one who reads them without prepossession and with attention?”

It has been alleged that Pope’s verse is but another rendering of
Bolingbroke’s views without his “aristocratic nonchalance,” and
that some passages of Pope regarded as hostile to revealed religion,
were specially due to the influence of Bolingbroke; and more than one
critic has professed to trace identities of thought and expression in
order to show that Pope was largely indebted to the published works of
St. John.

David Hume was born at Edinburgh, 26th April, 1711, and died 1776. He
created a new school of Freethinkers, and is to-day one of the most
esteemed amongst sceptical authors. He was a profound thinker, and
an easy, elegant writer, who did much to give a force and solidity to
extreme heretical reasonings, which they had hitherto been regarded as
lacking. His heretical essays have had a far wider circulation since his
death than they enjoyed during his life. Many volumes have been issued
in the fruitless endeavor to refute him, and all these have contributed
to widen the circle of his readers. He adopted and advocated the
utilitarian and necessitarian theory of morals, and wrote of ordinary
theism and religion as arising from personification of unknown causes
for general or special phenomena. He held and advanced the idea, which
Buckle so fully states, and endeavors to prove in his “History of
Civilisation”—viz., that general laws operate amongst peoples, and
influence and determine their so-called moral conduct, much as other
laws do the orbits of planets, the occurrences of eclipses, etc. His
arguments against miracles, as evidences for revealed religion, remain
unrefuted, although they have been made the subject of many attacks.
He contends, in effect, that in each account of a miraculous occurrence
there is always more *prima facie* probability of error, or bad faith
on the part of the narrator, than of interference with those invariable
sequences known as natural laws, and there was really no reply in the
conclusion of Dr. Campbell, to the effect that we have equally to
trust human testimony for an account of the laws of nature and for the
narratives of miracles, for in truth you never have the same character
of human testimony for the latter as for the former. And, further, while
in the case of human testimony as to natural events, it is evidence
which you may test and compare with your own experience. This is not so
as to miracles, declared at once to be out of the range of all ordinary
experience. “Men,” he says, “are carried by a natural instinct
or prepossession to repose faith in their senses. When they follow this
blind and powerful instinct of nature, they always suppose the very
images presented to the senses to be the external objects, and never
entertain any suspicion that the one are nothing but representatives
of the other. But this universal and primary opinion of all men is soon
destroyed by the slightest philosophy, which teaches us that nothing can
ever be present to the mind but an image or perception. So far, then,
we are necessitated by reasoning to contradict the primary instincts of
nature, and to embrace a new system with regard to the evidence of our
senses. But here philosophy finds herself extremely embarrassed, when
she would obviate the cavils and objections of the sceptics. She can
no longer plead the infallible and irresistible instinct of nature, for
that led us to quite a different system, which is acknowledged fallible,
and even erroneous, and to justify this pretended philosophical system
by a chain of clear and convincing argument, or even any appearance of
argument, exceeds the power of all human capacity. Do you follow the
instinct and propensities of nature in assenting to the veracity of
the senses? But these lead you to believe that the very perception or
sensible image is the external object—(Idealism.) Do you disclaim
this principle in order to embrace a more rational opinion, that the
perceptions are only representations of something external? You here
depart from your natural propensities, and more obvious sentiments;
and yet are not able to satisfy your reason, which can never find any
convincing argument from experience to prove that the perceptions are
connected with external objects—(Scepticism.)”

Charles de Secondat Baron de Montesquieu, born in 1689 near Bordeaux,
died at Paris 1755, who earned considerable fame by his “Lettres
Persanes,” is more famous for his oft-referred to work “L’Esprit
des Lois.” Victor Cousin describes him as “the man of our country
who has best comprehended history, and who first gave an example of
true historic method.” In the publication of certain of his ideas
on history, Montesquieu was the layer of the foundation-stone for an
edifice which Buckle would probably have gloriously crowned had his life
been longer. Voltaire, who sharply criticises Montesquieu, declares that
he has earned the eternal gratitude of Europe by his grand views and
his bold attacks on tyranny, superstition, and grinding taxation.
Montesquieu urged that virtue is the true essence of republicanism, but
misled by the mistaken notions of honor held by his predecessors and
contemporaries, he declared honor to be the principle of monarchical
institutions. Voltaire reminds him that “it is in courts that men,
devoid of honor, often attain to the highest dignities; and it is in
republics that a known dishonorable citizen is seldom trusted by
the people with public concerns.” Montesquieu wrote in favor of a
constitutional monarchy such as then existed in England, and his work
shadowed forth a future for the middle class in France.

Francois Marie Arouet Voltaire, born 20th February, 1694, at Chatenay,
died 30th May, 1778, may be fairly written of as the man, to whose
fertile brain and active pen, to whose great genius, fierce irony,
and thorough humanity, we owe much more of the rapid change of popular
thought in Europe during the last century, than to any other man. His
wit, like the electric flash, spared nothing; his love for his kind
would have made him the protector of everything weak, his desire to
protect himself from the consequences of his truest utterances often
dims the hero-halo with which his name is surrounded. Born and trained
amongst a corrupt and selfish class, it is not wonderful that we find
some of their pernicious habits clinging to parts of his career. On the
contrary, it is more wonderful to find that he has shaken off so much of
the consequences of his education. Neither in politics nor in theology
was he so very extreme in his utterances as many deemed him, for while
he occasionally severely handled individual monarchs, we do not find
him the preacher of republicanism. On the contrary, he is often severe
against some of the advanced political views of Jean Jacques Rousseau.
He nevertheless suggests that it might have been “the art of working
metals which originally made kings, and the art of casting cannons which
now maintains them,” and as a commentary on kingly conduct in the
matter of taxation, declares that “a shepherd ought to shear his
sheep and not to flay them.” In theological controversy he wrote as a
Theist, and declares “Atheism and Fanaticism” to be “two monsters
which may tear Society in pieces, but the Atheist preserves his reason,
which checks his propensity to mischief, while the fanatic is under
the influence of a madness constantly urging him on.” For the ancient
Jews, and for the Hebrew records, Voltaire entertained so thorough a
feeling of contemptuous detestation, that in his “Défense de mon
Oncle,” and his articles and letters on the Jews, we find utter
disbelief in them as a chosen people, and the strongest abhorrence of
their brutal habits, heightened in expression by the scathing satire of
his phrases. To the more modern descendants of Abraham he said: “We
have repeatedly driven you away through avarice; we have recalled you
through avarice and stupidity; we still, in more towns than one, make
you pay for liberty to breathe the air; we have, in more kingdoms than
one, sacrificed you to God; we have burned you as holocausts—for I
will not follow your example, and dissemble that we have offered up
sacrifices of human blood; all the difference is, that our priests,
content with applying your money to their own use, have had you burned
by laymen; while your priests always immolated their human victims with
their own sacred hands. You were monsters of cruelty and fanaticism in
Palestine; we have been so in Europe.”

Writing on miracles, Voltaire asks: “For what purpose would God
perform a miracle? To accomplish some particular design upon living
beings? He would then, in reality, be supposed to say—I have not been
able to effect by my construction of the universe, by my divine decrees,
by my eternal laws, a particular object; I am now going to change my
eternal ideas and immutable laws, to endeavor to accomplish what I have
not been able to do by means of them. This would be an avowal of
his weakness, not of his power; it would appear in such a being an
inconceivable contradiction. Accordingly, therefore, to dare to ascribe
miracles to God is, if man can in reality insult God, actually offering
him that insult. It is saying to him—You are a weak and inconsistent
being. It is therefore absurd to believe in miracles; it is, in fact,
dishonoring the divinity.”

Those who are inclined to attack the character of Voltaire should read
the account of his endeavors for the Calas family. How, when old Calas
had been broken alive on the wheel at Toulouse, and his family were
ruined, Voltaire took up their case, aided them with means, spared no
effort of his pen or brain, and ultimately achieved the great victory
of reversing the unjust sentence, and obtaining compensation for the
family. If, then, these Voltaire-haters have not learned to love this
great heretic, let them study the narrative of his even more successful
endeavors on behalf of the Sirvens; more successful, because in this
case he took up the fight before an unjust judgment could be delivered,
and thus prevented the repetition of such an iniquitous execution as had
taken place in the Calas case. The cowardly slanders as to his conduct
when dying are not worth notice; those spit on the grave of the dead who
would not have dared to look in the face of the living.

Claude Adrian Helvetius was born at Paris 1715, and died December, 1771.
His best known works are “De l’Esprit,” published 1758: “Essai
sur l’Origine des Connaissances Humaines,” 1746; “Traite des
Systemes,” 1749; “Traite des Sensations,” 1758. Rousseau wrote in
reply to Helvetius, but when the Parliament of Paris condemned the work
“De l’Esprit,” and it was in consequence burned by the common
hangman, Rousseau withdrew his refutatory volume. Helvetius argues that
any religion, of which the chiefs are intolerant, and the conduct of
which is expensive to the state, “cannot long be the religion of an
enlightened and well governed nation. The people that submit to it will
labor only to maintain the ease and luxury of the priesthood; each of
its inhabitants will be nothing more than a slave to the sacerdotal
power. A religion to be good should be tolerant and little expensive.
Its clergy should have no authority over the people. A dread of the
priest debases the mind and the soul, makes the one brutish and the
other slavish. Must the ministers of the altar always be armed with the
sword of the State? Can the barbarities committed by their intolerance
ever be forgotten? The earth is yet drenched with the blood they have
spilled. Civil tolerance alone is not sufficient to secure the peace
of nations. Every dogma is a seed of discord and injustice sown amongst
mankind.”

“Why do you make the Supreme Being resemble an eastern tyrant? Why
make him punish slight faults with eternal torment? Why thus put the
name of the Divinity at the bottom of the portrait of the devil? Why
oppress the soul with a load of fear, break its springs, and of
a worshipper of Jesus make a vile, pusillanimous slave? It is the
malignant who paint a malignant God. What is their devotion? A veil for
their crimes.”

“Let not the rewards of heaven be made the price of trifling religious
operations, which convey a diminutive idea of the Eternal and a false
conception of virtue; its rewards should never be assigned to fasting,
haircloth, a blind submission, and self-castigation. The men who
place these operations among the virtues, might as well place those of
leaping, dancing, and tumbling on the rope.” “Humility may be held
in veneration by the dwellers in a monastery or a convent, it favors
the meanness and idleness of a monastic life. But ought humility to
be regarded as the virtue of the people? No.” Speaking of the Pagan
systems, Helvetius says: “All the fables of mythology were mere
emblems of certain principles of nature.”

Baron d’Holbach, a native of the Palatinate, born January 1723, died
21st January, 1789, deserves special notice, as being the man whose
house was the gathering place of the knot of writers and thinkers who
struck light and life into the dark and deadened brain of France. He is
generally reputed to have been the author of that well-known work, the
“System of Nature,” which was issued as if by Mirabaud. This work,
although it was fiercely assailed at the time by the pen of Voltaire,
and by the *plaidorie* of the prosecuting Avocat-General, and has
since been attacked by hundreds who had never read it, yet remains a
wonderfully popular exposition of the power-gathering heresy of the
century, and, as far as we are aware, has never received efficient
reply. Probably next to Paine’s works, it had in England during
the second quarter of this century the widest circulation of any
anti-theological book, this circulation extending through the
manufacturing ranks. In the eighteenth century Mirabaud could, in
England, only be found in the hands of the few, but fifty years had
wondrously multiplied the number of readers.

Joseph Priestley was born near Leeds, 13th March, 1733, and being
towards the latter part of his life driven out of England, by the
persecuting spirit evinced towards him, and which had been specially
excited by his republican tendencies, he died at Northumberland,
Pennsylvania, on the 6th February, 1804. Originally a Church of England
clergyman, his first notable inclination towards heterodoxy manifested
itself in hesitation as to the doctrine of the atonement. He ultimately
rejected the immortality and immateriality of the soul, argued for
necessitarianism, and earned considerable unpopularity by the boldness
of some of his sentiments on political as well as theological matters.
Priestley was one of the rapidly multiplying instances of heresy alike
in religion and politics, but he provoked the most bitter antagonism.
His works were burned by the common hangman, his house, library, and
scientific instruments were destroyed by an infuriate and pious mob.
Despite all this, his heresy, according to his own view of it, was not
of a very outrageous character, for he believed in Deity, in revealed
religion, and in Christianity, rather putting the blame on misconduct
of alleged Christians. He said: “The wretched forms under which
Christianity has long been generally exhibited, and its degrading
alliance with, or rather its subjection to, a power wholly heterogeneous
to it, and which has employed it for the most unworthy purposes, has
made it contemptible and odious in the eyes of all sensible men, who are
now everywhere casting off the very profession and every badge of it.
Enlightened Christians must themselves, in some measure, join with
unbelievers in exposing whatever will not bear examination in or about
religion.” His writings on scientific topics were most voluminous; his
most heretical volumes are those on “Matter and Spirit.”

Edward Gibbon was born at Putney, the 27th April, 1737, and died 16th
January, 1794. He was a polished and painstaking writer, aristocratic
in his tendencies and associations, who had educated himself into a
disbelief in the principal dogmas of Christianity, but who loved the
peace and quietude of an easy life too much to enter the lists as an
active antagonist of the Church. His works, especially the fifteenth and
sixteenth chapters of “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,”
have been regarded as infidel in their tendency, rather from what has
been left unsaid than from the direct statements against Christianity.
The sneer at the evidence of prophecy, or the doubt of the reality of
miraculous evidences, is guardedly expressed. It is only when Gibbon can
couch his lance against some reckless and impudent forger of Christian
evidences, such as Eusebius, that you have anything like a bold
condemnation. A prophecy or a miracle is treated tenderly, and if
killed, it is rather with over-affectionate courtesy than by rough
handling. In some parts of his vindications of the attacked passages,
Gibbon’s scepticism finds vent in the collection and quotation
of unpleasantly heretical views of others, but he carefully avoids
committing himself to very distinct personal declarations of disbelief;
he claims to be the unbiased historian recording fact, and leaving
others to form their own conclusions. It would perhaps be most
appropriate to express his convictions as to the religions of the world,
in nearly the same words as those which he used to characterise the
various modes of worship at Rome: “All considered by the people as
equally true, by the philosopher as equally false, and by the magistrate
as equally useful.”

Pierre John George Cabanis, born at Conac, near Breves 5th June, 1757,
died 6th May, 1808, following Condillac in many respects, was one of
those whose physiological investigations have opened out wide fields of
knowledge in psychology, and who did much to promote the establishment
in France, America, and England, of a new school of Freethinkers.
“Subject to the action of external bodies,” he says, “man finds in
the impressions these bodies make on his organs, at once his knowledge
and the causes of his continued existence, for to live is to feel; and
in that admirable chain of phenomena which constitute his existence,
every want depends on the development of some faculty; every faculty
by its very development satisfies some want, and the faculties grow by
exercise, as the wants extend with the facility of satisfying them. By
the continual action of external bodies on the senses of man, results
the most remarkable part of his existence. But is it true that the
nervous centres only receive and combine the impressions which reach
them from the bodies? Is it true that no image or idea is formed in the
brain, and that no determination of the sensative organ takes place,
other than by virtue of these same impressions on the senses strictly
so-called? The faculty of feeling and of spontaneous movement forms
the character of animal nature. The faculty of feeling consists in
the property possessed by the nervous system of being warned by
the impressions produced on its different parts, and notably on its
extremities. These impressions are internal or external. External
impressions, when perception is distinct, are called sensations.
Internal impressions are very often vague and confused, and the animal
is then only warned by their effects, and does not clearly distinguish
their connexion with the causes. The former result from the application
of external objects to the organs of sense, and on them ideas depend.
The latter result from the development of the regular functions, or from
the maladies to which each organ is subject; and from these issue those
determinations which bear the name of instincts. Feeling and movement
are linked together. Every movement is determined by an impression,
and the nerves, as the organs of feeling, animate and direct the motor
organs. In feeling, the nervous organ reacts on itself. In movement it
reacts on other parts, to which it communicates the contractile faculty,
the simple and fecund principle of all animal movement. Finally, the
vital functions can exercise themselves by the influence of some nervous
ramifications, isolated from the system—the instinctive faculties can
develop themselves, even when the brain is almost wholly destroyed, and
when it seems wholly inactive. But for the formation of thoughts, it is
necessary that the brain should exist, and be in a healthy condition; it
is the special organ of thought.”

Thomas Paine, the most famous Deist of modern times, was born at
Thetford, on the 29th January, 1737, and died 8th June, 1809. It will
hardly be untrue to say that the famous “rebellious needleman”
has been the most popular writer in Great Britain and America against
revealed religion, and that his works, from their plain clear language,
have in those countries had, and still have, a far wider circulation
than those of any other modern sceptical author. His anti-theology was
allied to his republicanism; he warred alike against church and throne,
and his impeachment of each was couched in the plainest Anglo-Saxon. His
name became at the same time a word of terror to the aristocracy and to
the clergy. In England numerous prosecutions were commenced against
the vendors of his political and theological works, and against persons
suspected of giving currency to his views. The peace-officers searched
poor men’s houses to discover his dreaded works. Lancashire and
Yorkshire artisans read him by stealth, and assembled in corners of
fields that they might discuss the “Age of Reason,” and yet be safe
from surprise by the authorities. Heavy sentences were passed upon men
convicted of promulgating his opinions; but all without effect, the
forbidden fruit found eager gatherers. Paine appears to have been tinged
with scepticism from his early boyhood, but it was as a democratic
writer that he first achieved literary fame. His “Age of Reason”
was the culminating blow which the dying eighteenth century aimed at
the Hebrew and Christian records. Theretofore scholarly philosophers,
metaphysicians, and critics had written for their fellows, and whether
or not any of the mass read and understood, the authors cared but
little. Now the people were addressed by one of themselves in
language startling in its plainness. Paine was not a deep examiner of
metaphysical problems, but he was terribly in earnest in his rejection
of an impossible creed.

Charles Francois Dupuis was born near Chaumont, in France, the 16th
Oct, 1742, died 29th Sept, 1809. He played a prominent part in the great
revolutionary movement, and was Secretary to the National Convention.
His famous work, “L’Origine de tous les Cultes,” is one of the
grand heresy marks of the eighteenth century. Himself a Pantheist, he
searched through the mythic traditions of the Greeks, the Egyptians, the
Hindus, and the Hebrews, and as a result, sought to demonstrate a
common origin for all religions. Dr. John Pye Smith classes Dupuis as an
Atheist, but this is most certainly an incorrect classification. He did
not believe in creation, nor could he go outside the universe to search
for its cause, but he regarded God as *“la force universelle et
eternellement active,* ” which permeated and animated everything.
Dupuis was an example of a new and rapidly increasing class of
Freethinking writers—i.e., those who, not content with doubting the
divine origin of the religions they attacked, sought to explain the
source and progress of the various systems. He urges that all religions
find their base in the attempts at personification of some one or
other, or of the whole of the forces of the universe, and shows what an
important part the sun and moon have been made to play in the Egyptian,
Greek, and Hindu mythologies. He argues that the fabulous biographies of
Hercules, Bacchus, Osiris, Mithra, and Jesus, find their common origin
in the sun-worship, thus cloaked and hidden from the vulgar in each
country. He does not attack the Hebrew Records as simply inaccurate,
but endeavors to show clear Sabaistic foundation for many of the most
important narratives. The works of Dupuis and Dulaure should be read
together; they contain the most complete amongst the many attempts to
trace out the common origins of the various mythologies of the world.
In the ninth chapter of Dupuis’ great work, he deals with the “fable
made upon the sun adored under the name of Christ,” “*un dieu qui
ait mangé autrefois sur la terre, et qu’on y mange aujourd’hui*”
and unquestionably urges strange points of coincidence. It is only
astrologically that the 25th of December can be fixed, he argues, as the
birthday of Mithra and of Jesus, then born of the celestial Virgin. Our
Easter festivities for the resurrection of Jesus are but another form
of the more ancient rejoicing at that season for Adonis, the sun-God,
restored to the world after his descent into the lower regions. He
recalls that the ancient Druidic worship recognised the Virgin suckling
the child, and gathers together many illustrations favorable to his
theory. Here we do no more than point out that while reason was rapidly
releasing itself from priestly thraldom, heretics were not content to
deny the divine origin of Christianity, but sought to trace its mundane
or celestial source, and strip it of its fabulous plumage.

Constantine Francis Chasseboeuf Count Volney, born at Craon in Anjou,
February 3rd, 1757, died 1820. He was a Deist. In his two great works,
“The Ruins of Empires,” and “New Researches on Ancient History,”
he advances many of the views brought forward by Dupuis, from whom he
quotes, but his volumes are much more readable than those of the author
of the “Origin of all Religions.” Volney appears to have been one
of the first to popularise many of Spinoza’s Biblical criticisms. He
denied the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch. He wrote most vigorously
against kingcraft as well as priestcraft, regarding all systems of
monarchy and religion as founded on the ignorance and servility, the
superstition and weakness of the people. He puts the following into
the mouth of Mahommedan priests replying to Christian preachers: “We
maintain that your gospel morality is by no means characterised by the
perfection you ascribe to it. It is not true that it has introduced into
the world new and unknown virtues; for example, the equality of mankind
in the eyes of God, and the fraternity and benevolence which are the
consequence of this equality, were tenets formerly professed by the
sect of Hermetics and Samaneans, from whom you have your descent. As to
forgiveness of injuries, it had been taught by the Pagans themselves;
but in the latitude you give to it, it ceases to be a virtue, and
becomes an immorality and a crime. Your boasted precept, to him that
strikes thee on thy right cheek turn the other also, is not only
contrary to the feelings of man, but a flagrant violation of every
principle of justice; it emboldens the wicked by impunity, degrades the
virtuous by the servility to which it subjects them; delivers up the
world to disorder and tyranny, and dissolves the bands of society—such
is the true spirit of your doctrine. The precepts and parables of your
Gospel also never represent God other than as a despot, acting by
no rule of equity; than as a partial father treating a debauched and
prodigal son with greater favor than his obedient and virtuous children;
than as a capricious master giving the same wages to him who has wrought
but one hour, as to those who have borne the burden and heat of the day,
and preferring the last comers to the first. In short, your morality
throughout is unfriendly to human intercourse; a code of misanthropy
calculated to give men a disgust for life and society, and attach them
to solitude and celibacy. With respect to the manner in which you have
practised your boasted doctrine, we in our turn appeal to the testimony
of fact, and ask, was it your evangelical meekness and forbearance
which excited those endless wars among your sectaries, those atrocious
persecutions of what you call heretics, those crusades against the
Arians, the Manichæans, and the Protestants, not to mention those which
you have committed against us, nor the sacrilegious associations
still subsisting among you, formed of men who have sworn to perpetuate
them? [1]_ Was it the charity of your Gospel that led you to exterminate
whole nations in America, and to destroy the empires of Mexico and Peru;
that makes you still desolate Africa, the inhabitants of which you sell
like cattle, notwithstanding the abolition of slavery that you pretend
your religion has effected; that makes you ravage India whose domain you
usurp; in short, is it charity that has prompted you for three centuries
past to disturb the peaceful inhabitants of three continents, the most
prudent of whom, those of Japan and China, have been constrained to
banish you from their country, that they might escape your chains and
recover their domestic tranquillity?”

.. [1] The oath taken by the Knights of the Order of Malta is to kill, or make the Mahometans prisoners, for the glory of God.

During the early part of the eighteenth century, magazines and other
periodicals began to grow apace, and pamphlets multiplied exceedingly in
this country. Addison, Steele, Defoe, and Dean Swift all helped in the
work of popular education, and often in a manner probably unanticipated
by themselves. Dean Swift’s satire against scepticism was fiercely
powerful; but his onslaughts against Roman Catholics and Presbyterians
made far more sceptics than his other writings had made churchmen.

During the latter portion of the eighteenth century, a new phase of
popular progress was exhibited in the comparatively lively interest
taken in political questions by the great body of the people inhabiting
large towns. In America, France, and England, this was strongly marked;
it is, however, in this country that we find special evidences of the
connexion between heresy and progress, as contradistinguished from
orthodoxy and obstructiveness, manifested in the struggle for the
liberty of the press and platform; a struggle in which some of the
boldest efforts were made by poor and heretical self-taught men. The
dying eighteenth century witnessed, in England, repeated instances of
State prosecutions, in which the charge of entertaining or advocating
the views of the Republican heretic, Paine, formed a prominent feature,
and there is little doubt that the efforts of the London Corresponding
Society (which the Government of the day made strenuous endeavors to
repress) to give circulation to some of Paine’s political opinions in
Yorkshire, Lancashire, and the North, had for result the familiarising
many men with views they would have otherwise feared to investigate. The
step from the “Rights of Man” to the “Age of Reason” was but
a short stride for an advancing inquirer. In France the end of the
eighteenth century was marked by a frightful convulsion, but in the case
of France, the revolution was too sudden to be immediately beneficial
or enduring, the people were as a mass too poor, and therefore too
ignorant, to wield the power so rapidly wrested from the class who had
so long monopolised it. It is far better to grow out of a creed by the
sure and gradual consciousness of the truths of existence, than to dash
off a religious garb simply from abhorrence of the shameful practices
of its professors, or sudden conviction of the falsity of many of the
testimonies in its favor. So it is a more permanent and more complete
revolution which is effectuated by educating men to a sense of the
majesty and worth of true manhood, than is any mere sudden overturning a
rotten or cruel usurpation. Monarchies are most thoroughly and entirely
destroyed—not by pulling down the throne, or by decapitating the king,
but by educating and building up with a knowledge of political duty,
each individual citizen amongst the people.

It is here that heresy has its great advantage. Christianity says:
“The powers that be are ordained of God, he that resisteth the power
resisteth the ordinance of God.” Heresy challenges the divine right
of the governor, and declares that government should be the best
contrivance of national wisdom to promote the national weal, to
provide against national want, and alleviate national suffering—that
government which is only a costly machinery for conserving class
privileges, and preventing popular freedom, is a tyrannical usurpation
of power, which it is the duty of true men to destroy.

I have briefly and imperfectly alluded to a few of the men who stand
out as the sign-posts of heretical progress during the sixteenth,
seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries; in some future publication of
wider scope fairer tribute may be paid to the memories of some of these
mighty warriors in the Freethought army. My object is to show that the
civilisation of the masses is in proportion to the spread of heresy
amongst them, that its effect is seen in an exhibition of manly
dignity and self-reliant effort which is utterly unattainable amongst a
superstitious people. Look at the lazzaroni of the Neapolitan States,
or the peasant of the Campagna, and you have at once the fearful
illustration of demoralisation by faith in the beggar, brigand, and
believer.

It is sometimes pretended that such advantages of education and position
as the people may boast in England, their civil rights and social
advancement, are owing to their Christianity, but in point of fact the
reverse is the case. For centuries Christianity had done little but
fetter tightly the masses to Church and Crown, to Priest and Baron; the
enfranchisement is comparatively modern. Even in this very day, in the
districts where the people are entirely in the hands of the clergy of
the Established Church, there they are as a mass the most depraved. Take
the agricultural counties and the agricultural laborers: there are no
heretical books or papers to be seen in their cottages, no heretical
speakers come amongst them to disturb their contentment; the
deputy-lieutenant, the squire, and the rector wield supreme
authority—the parish church has no rival. But what are the people as
a mass? They are not men, they are not women; they lack men’s and
women’s thoughts and aspirations; they are diggers and weeders,
hedgers and ditchers, ploughmen and carters; they are taught to be
content with the state of life in which it has pleased God to place
them.

My plea is, that modern heresy, from Spinoza to Mill, has given
brain-strength and dignity to every one it has permeated—that the
popular propagandists of this heresy, from Bruno to Carlile, have been
the true redeemers and saviors, the true educators of the people. The
redemption is yet only at its commencement, the education only lately
begun, but the change is traceable already; as witness the power to
speak and write, and the ability to listen and read, which have grown
amongst the masses during the last hundred years. And if to-day we write
with higher hope, it is because the right to speak and the right
to print has been partly freed from the fetters forged through long
generations of intellectual prostration, and almost entirely freed from
the statutory limitations which, under pretence of checking blasphemy
and sedition, have really gagged honest speech against Pope and Emperor,
against Church and Throne.


.. clearpage::

HUMANITY’S GAIN FROM UNBELIEF
=============================

.. dropcap:: A AS


AS an unbeliever, I ask leave to plead that humanity has been real
gainer from scepticism, and that the gradual and growing rejection of
Christianity—like the rejection of the faiths which preceded it—has
in fact added, and will add, to man’s happiness and well being. I
maintain that in physics science is the outcome of scepticism, and
that general progress is impossible without scepticism on matters of
religion. I mean by religion every form of belief which accepts
or asserts the supernatural. I write as a Monist, and use the word
“nature” as meaning all phenomena, every phenomenon, all that is
necessary for the happening of any and every phenomenon. Every religion
is constantly changing, and at any given time is the measure of the
civilisation attained by what Guizot described as the *juste milieu* of
those who profess it. Each religion is slowly but certainly modified in
its dogma and practice by the gradual development of the peoples amongst
whom it is professed. Each discovery destroys in whole or part some
theretofore cherished belief. No religion is suddenly rejected by any
people; it is rather gradually out-grown. None see a religion die; dead
religions are like dead languages and obsolete customs; the decay is
long and—like the glacier march—is only perceptible to the careful
watcher by comparisons extending over long periods. A superseded
religion may often be traced in the festivals, ceremonies, and dogmas
of the religion which has replaced it. Traces of obsolete religions
may often be found in popular customs, in old wives’ stories, and in
children’s tales.

It is necessary, in order that my plea should be understood, that I
should explain what I mean by Christianity; and in the very attempt at
this explanation there will, I think, be found strong illustration of
the value of unbelief. Christianity in practice may be gathered from
its more ancient forms, represented by the Roman Catholic and the Greek
Churches, or from the various churches which have grown up in the last
few centuries. Each of these churches calls itself Christian. Some
of them deny the right of the others to use the word Christian. Some
Christian churches treat, or have treated, other Christian churches
as heretics or unbelievers. The Roman Catholics and the Protestants in
Great Britain and Ireland have in turn been terribly cruel one to
the other; and the ferocious laws of the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries, enacted by the English Protestants against English and Irish
Papists, are a disgrace to civilisation. These penal laws, enduring
longest in Ireland, still bear fruit in much of the political mischief
and agrarian crime of to-day. It is only the tolerant indifference of
scepticism that, one after the other, has repealed most of the laws
directed by the Established Christian Church against Papists and
Dissenters, and also against Jews and heretics. Church of England
clergymen have in the past gone to great lengths in denouncing
nonconformity; and even in the present day an effective sample of
such denunciatory bigotry may be found in a sort of orthodox catechism
written by the Rev. F.A. Gace, of Great Barling, Essex, the popularity
of which is vouched by the fact that it has gone through ten editions.
This catechism for little children teaches that “Dissent is a great
sin,” and that Dissenters “worship God according to their own evil
and corrupt imaginations, and not according to his revealed will, and
therefore their worship is idolatrous.” Church of England Christians
and Dissenting Christians, when fraternising amongst themselves, often
publicly draw the line at Unitarians, and positively deny that these
have any sort of right to call themselves Christians.

In the first half of the seventeenth century Quakers were flogged and
imprisoned in England as blasphemers; and the early Christian settlers
in New England, escaping from the persecution of Old World Christians,
showed scant mercy to the followers of Fox and Penn. It is customary, in
controversy, for those advocating the claims of Christianity, to include
all good done by men in nominally Christian countries as if such good
were the result of Christianity, while they contend that the evil which
exists prevails in spite of Christianity. I shall try to make out that
the ameliorating march of the last few centuries has been initiated by
the heretics of each age, though I quite concede that the men and women
denounced and persecuted as infidels by the pious of one century, are
frequently claimed as saints by the pious of a later generation.

What then is Christianity? As a system or scheme of doctrine,
Christianity may, I submit, not unfairly be gathered from the Old and
New Testaments. It is true that some Christians to-day desire to escape
from submission to portions, at any rate, of the Old Testament; but this
very tendency seems to me to be part of the result of the beneficial
heresy for which I am pleading. Man’s humanity has revolted against
Old Testament barbarism; and therefore he has attempted to disassociate
the Old Testament from Christianity. Unless Old and New Testaments are
accepted as God’s revelation to man, Christianity has no higher claim
than any other of the world’s many religions, if no such claim can be
made out for it apart from the Bible. And though it is quite true that
some who deem themselves Christians put the Old Testament completely in
the background, this is, I allege, because they are out-growing their
Christianity. Without the doctrine of the atoning sacrifice of Jesus,
Christianity, as a religion, is naught; but unless the story of Adam’s
fall is accepted, the redemption from the consequences of that fall
cannot be believed. Both in Great Britain and in the United States the
Old and New Testaments are forced on the people as part of Christianity;
for it is blasphemy at common law to deny the scriptures of the Old and
New Testaments to be of divine authority; and such denial is punishable
with fine and imprisonment, or even worse. The rejection of Christianity
intended throughout this paper, is therefore the rejection of the Old
and New Testaments as being of divine revelation. It is the rejection
alike of the authorised teachings of the Church of Rome and of the
Church of England, as these may be found in the Bible, the creeds, the
encyclicals, the prayer book, the canons and homilies of either or both
of these churches. It is the rejection of the Christianity of Luther, of
Calvin, and of Wesley.

A ground frequently taken by Christian theologians is that the
progress and civilisation of the world are due to Christianity; and
the discussion is complicated by the fact that many eminent servants of
humanity have been nominal Christians, of one or other of the sects. My
allegation will be that the special services rendered to human progress
by these exceptional men, have not been in consequence of their adhesion
to Christianity, but in spite of it; and that the specific points of
advantage to human kind have been in ratio of their direct opposition to
precise Biblical enactments.

A.S. Farrar says [2]_ that Christianity “asserts authority over
religious belief in virtue of being a supernatural communication
from God, and claims the right to control human thought in virtue of
possessing sacred books, which are at once the record and the instrument
of the communication, written by men endowed with supernatural
inspiration.” Unbelievers refuse to submit to the asserted authority,
and deny this claim of control over human thought: they allege that
every effort at freethinking must provoke sturdier thought.

.. [2] Farrar’s “Critical History of Freethought”.

Take one clear gain to humanity consequent on unbelief, i.e., in the
abolition of slavery in some countries, in the abolition of the slave
trade in most civilised countries, and in the tendency to its total
abolition. I am unaware of any religion in the world which in the past
forbade slavery. The professors of Christianity for ages supported it;
the Old Testament repeatedly sanctioned it by special laws; the New
Testament has no repealing declaration. Though we are at the close of
the nineteenth century of the Christian era, it is only during the
past three-quarters of a century that the battle for freedom has been
gradually won. It is scarcely a quarter of a century since the famous
emancipation amendment was carried to the United States Constitution.
And it is impossible for any well-informed Christian to deny that the
abolition movement in North America was most steadily and bitterly
opposed by the religious bodies in the various States. Henry Wilson, in
his “Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America;” Samuel J. May, in
his “Recollections of the Anti-Slavery Conflict;” and J. Greenleaf
Whittier, in his poems, alike are witnesses that the Bible and pulpit,
the Church and its great influence, were used against abolition and
in favor of the slave-owner. I know that Christians in the present day
often declare that Christianity had a large share in bringing about the
abolition of slavery, and this because men professing Christianity were
abolitionists. I plead that these so-called Christian abolitionists were
men and women whose humanity, recognising freedom for all, was in this
in direct conflict with Christianity. It is not yet fifty years since
the European Christian powers jointly agreed to abolish the slave trade.
What of the effect of Christianity on these powers in the centuries
which had preceded? The heretic Condorcet pleaded powerfully for freedom
whilst Christian France was still slave-holding. For many centuries
Christian Spain and Christian Portugal held slaves. Porto Rico freedom
is not of long date; and Cuban emancipation is even yet newer. It was
a Christian King, Charles 5th, and a Christian friar, who founded in
Spanish America the slave trade between the Old World and the New. For
some 1800 years, almost, Christians kept slaves, bought slaves, sold
slaves, bred slaves, stole slaves. Pious Bristol and godly Liverpool
less than 100 years ago openly grew rich on the traffic. During the
ninth century Greek Christians sold slaves to the Saracens. In the
eleventh century prostitutes were publicly sold as slaves in Rome, and
the profit went to the Church.

It is said that William Wilberforce, the abolitionist, was a Christian.
But at any rate his Christianity was strongly diluted with unbelief.
As an abolitionist he did not believe Leviticus xxv, 44-6; he must
have rejected Exodus xxi, 2-6; he could not have accepted the many
permissions and injunctions by the Bible deity to his chosen people to
capture and hold slaves. In the House of Commons on 18th February, 1796,
Wilberforce reminded that Christian assembly that infidel and anarchic
France had given liberty to the Africans, whilst Christian and
monarchic England was “obstinately continuing a system of cruelty and
injustice.”

Wilberforce, whilst advocating the abolition of slavery, found the whole
influence of the English Court, and the great weight of the Episcopal
Bench, against him. George III, a most Christian king, regarded
abolition theories with abhorrence, and the Christian House of Lords
was utterly opposed to granting freedom to the slave. When Christian
missionaries some sixty-two years ago preached to Demerara negroes under
the rule of Christian England, they were treated by Christian judges,
holding commission from Christian England, as criminals for so
preaching. A Christian commissioned officer, member of the Established
Church of England, signed the auction notices for the sale of slaves as
late as the year 1824. In the evidence before a Christian court-martial,
a missionary is charged with having tended to make the negroes
dissatisfied with their condition as slaves, and with having promoted
discontent and dissatisfaction amongst the slaves against their
lawful masters. For this the Christian judges sentenced the Demerara
abolitionist missionary to be hanged by the neck till he was dead.
The judges belonged to the Established Church; the missionary was a
Methodist. In this the Church of England Christians in Demerara were
no worse than Christians of other sects: their Roman Catholic Christian
brethren in St. Domingo fiercely attacked the Jesuits as criminals
because they treated negroes as though they were men and women, in
encouraging “two slaves to separate their interest and safety
from that of the gang,” whilst orthodox Christians let them couple
promiscuously and breed for the benefit of their owners like any other
of their plantation cattle. In 1823 the *Royal Gazette* (Christian) of
Demerara said:

“We shall not suffer you to enlighten our slaves, who are by law our
property, till you can demonstrate that when they are made religious and
knowing they will continue to be our slaves.”

When William Lloyd Garrison, the pure-minded and most earnest
abolitionist, delivered his first anti-slavery address in Boston,
Massachusetts, the only building he could obtain, in which to speak, was
the infidel hall owned by Abner Kneeland, the “infidel” editor of
the *Boston Investigator*, who had been sent to gaol for blasphemy.
Every Christian sect had in turn refused Mr. Lloyd Garrison the use of
the buildings they severally controlled. Lloyd Garrison told me himself
how honored deacons of a Christian Church joined in an actual attempt to
hang him.

When abolition was advocated in the United States in 1790, the
representative from South Carolina was able to plead that the Southern
clergy “did not condemn either slavery or the slave trade;” and Mr.
Jackson, the representative from Georgia, pleaded that “from Genesis
to Revelation” the current was favorable to slavery. Elias Hicks, the
brave Abolitionist Quaker, was denounced as an Atheist, and less than
twenty years ago a Hicksite Quaker was expelled from one of the Southern
American Legislatures, because of the reputed irreligion of these
abolitionist “Friends.”

When the Fugitive Slave Law was under discussion in North America, large
numbers of clergymen of nearly every denomination were found ready to
defend this infamous law. Samuel James May, the famous abolitionist, was
driven from the pulpit as irreligious, solely because of his attacks on
slaveholding. [3]_ Northern clergymen tried to induce “silver tongued”
Wendell Philips to abandon his advocacy of abolition. Southern pulpits
rang with praises for the murderous attack on Charles Sumner. The
slayers of Elijah Lovejoy were highly reputed Christian men.

.. [3] “Capital and Wages,” p. 19.


Guizot, notwithstanding that he tries to claim that the Church exerted
its influence to restrain slavery, says (“European Civilisation,”
vol. i, p. 110):

“It has often been repeated that the abolition of slavery among modern
people is entirely due to Christians. That, I think, is saying too much.
Slavery existed for a long period in the heart of Christian society,
without its being particularly astonished or irritated. A multitude
of causes, and a great development in other ideas and principles of
civilisation, were necessary for the abolition of this iniquity of all
iniquities.”

And my contention is that this “development in other ideas and
principles of civilisation” was long retarded by Governments in which
the Christian Church was dominant. The men who advocated liberty were
imprisoned, racked, and burned, so long as the Church was strong enough
to be merciless.

The Rev. Francis Minton, Rector of Middlewich, in his recent earnest
volume on the struggles of labor, admits that “a few centuries ago
slavery was acknowledged throughout Christendom to have the divine
sanction.... Neither the exact cause, nor the precise time of the
decline of the belief in the righteousness of slavery can be defined.
It was doubtless due to a combination of causes, one probably being as
indirect as the recognition of the greater economy of free labor. With
the decline of the belief the abolition of slavery took place.”

The institution of slavery was actually existent in Christian Scotland
in the 17th century, where the white coal workers and salt workers of
East Lothian were chattels, as were their negro brethren in the Southern
States thirty years since; they “went to those who succeeded to
the property of the works, and they could be sold, bartered, or
pawned.” [4]_ “There is,” says J.M. Robertson, “no trace that the
Protestant clergy of Scotland ever raised a voice against the slavery
which grew up before their eyes. And it was not until 1799, after
republican and irreligious France had set the example, that it was
legally abolished.”

.. [4] “Perversion of Scotland,” p. 197.

Take further the gain to humanity consequent on the unbelief, or rather
disbelief, in witchcraft and wizardry. Apart from the brutality by
Christians towards those suspected of witchcraft, the hindrance to
scientific initiative or experiment was incalculably great so long as
belief in magic obtained. The inventions of the past two centuries, and
especially those of the 18th century, might have benefitted mankind much
earlier and much more largely, but for the foolish belief in witchcraft
and the shocking ferocity exhibited against those suspected of
necromancy. After quoting a large number of cases of trial and
punishment for witchcraft from official records in Scotland, J.M.
Robertson says: “The people seem to have passed from cruelty to
cruelty precisely as they became more and more fanatical, more and more
devoted to their Church, till after many generations the slow spread
of human science began to counteract the ravages of superstition, the
clergy resisting reason and humanity to the last.”

The Rev. Mr. Minton [5]_ concedes that it is “the advance of knowledge
which has rendered the idea of Satanic agency through the medium of
witchcraft grotesquely ridiculous.” He admits that “for more than
1500 years the belief in witchcraft was universal in Christendom,” and
that “the public mind was saturated with the idea of Satanic agency
in the economy of nature.” He adds: “If we ask why the world now
rejects what was once so unquestioningly believed, we can only reply
that advancing knowledge has gradually undermined the belief.”

.. [5] “Capital and Wages,” pp. 15, 16.

In a letter recently sent to the *Pall Mall Gazette* against modern
Spiritualism, Professor Huxley declares, “that the older form of
the same fundamental delusion—the belief in possession and in
witchcraft—gave rise in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth
centuries to persecutions by Christians of innocent men, women, and
children, more extensive, more cruel, and more murderous than any to
which the Christians of the first three centuries were subjected by the
authorities of pagan Rome.”

And Professor Huxley adds: “No one deserves much blame for being
deceived in these matters. We are all intellectually handicapped in
youth by the incessant repetition of the stories about possession and
witchcraft in both the Old and the New Testaments. The majority of
us are taught nothing which will help us to observe accurately and to
interpret observations with due caution.”

The English Statute Book under Elizabeth and under James was disfigured
by enactments against witchcraft passed under pressure from the
Christian churches, which Acts have only been repealed in consequence of
the disbelief in the Christian precept, “thou shalt not suffer a witch
to live.” The statute 1 James I, c. 12, condemned to death “all
persons invoking any evil spirits, or consulting, covenanting with,
entertaining, employing, feeding, or rewarding any evil spirit” or
generally practising any “infernal arts.” This was not repealed
until the eighteenth century was far advanced. Edison’s phonograph
would 280 years ago have insured martyrdom for its inventor; the
utilisation of electric force to transmit messages around the world
would have been clearly the practice of an infernal art. At least we may
plead that unbelief has healed the bleeding feet of science, and made
the road free for her upward march.

Is it not also fair to urge the gain to humanity which has been apparent
in the wiser treatment of the insane, consequent on the unbelief in
the Christian doctrine that these unfortunates were examples either of
demoniacal possession or of special visitation of deity? For centuries
under Christianity mental disease was most ignorantly treated. Exorcism,
shackles, and the whip were the penalties rather than the curatives for
mental maladies. From the heretical departure of Pinel at the close
of the last century to the position of Maudsley to-day, every step
illustrates the march of unbelief. Take the gain to humanity in the
unbelief not yet complete, but now largely preponderant, in the dogma
that sickness, pestilence, and famine were manifestations of divine
anger, the results of which could neither be avoided nor prevented.
The Christian Churches have done little or nothing to dispel this
superstition. The official and authorised prayers of the principal
denominations, even to-day, reaffirm it. Modern study of the laws of
health, experiments in sanitary improvements, more careful applications
of medical knowledge, have proved more efficacious in preventing or
diminishing plagues and pestilence than have the intervention of the
priest or the practice of prayer. Those in England who hold the old
faith that prayer will suffice to cure disease are to-day termed
“peculiar people” and are occasionally indicted for manslaughter
when their sick children die, because the parents have trusted to God
instead of appealing to the resources of science.

It is certainly a clear gain to astronomical science that the Church
which tried to compel Galileo to unsay the truth has been overborne by
the growing unbelief of the age, even though our little children are
yet taught that Joshua made the sun and moon stand still, and that for
Hezekiah the sun-dial reversed its record. As Buckle, arguing for the
morality of scepticism, says: [6]_

.. [6] “History of Civilisation,” vol. i, p. 345.

“As long as men refer the movements of the comets to the immediate
finger of God, and as long as they believe that an eclipse is one of the
modes by which the deity expresses his anger, they will never be
guilty of the blasphemous presumption of attempting to predict such
supernatural appearances. Before they could dare to investigate the
causes of these mysterious phenomena, it is necessary that they should
believe, or at all events that they should suspect, that the phenomena
themselves were capable of being explained by the human mind.”

As in astronomy so in geology, the gain of knowledge to humanity has
been almost solely in measure of the rejection of the Christian theory.
A century since it was almost universally held that the world was
created 6,000 years ago, or at any rate, that by the sin of the first
man, Adam, death commenced about that period. Ethnology and Anthropology
have only been possible in so far as, adopting the regretful words of
Sir W. Jones, “intelligent and virtuous persons are inclined to doubt
the authenticity of the accounts delivered by Moses concerning the
primitive world.”

Surely it is clear gain to humanity that unbelief has sprung up against
the divine right of kings, that men no longer believe that the monarch
is “God’s anointed” or that “the powers that be are ordained of
God.” In the struggles for political freedom the weight of the Church
was mostly thrown on the side of the tyrant. The homilies of the Church
of England declare that “even the wicked rulers have their power and
authority from God,” and that “such subjects as are disobedient
or rebellious against their princes disobey God and procure their own
damnation.” It can scarcely be necessary to argue to the citizens of
the United States of America that the origin of their liberties was in
the rejection of faith in the divine right of George III.

Will any one, save the most bigoted, contend that it is not certain gain
to humanity to spread unbelief in the terrible doctrine that eternal
torment is the probable fate of the great majority of the human family?
Is it not gain to have diminished the faith that it was the duty of
the wretched and the miserable to be content with the lot in life which
providence had awarded them?

If it stood alone it would be almost sufficient to plead as
justification for heresy the approach towards equality and liberty for
the utterance of all opinions achieved because of growing unbelief.
At one period in Christendom each Government acted as though only one
religious faith could be true, and as though the holding, or at any
rate the making known, any other opinion was a criminal act deserving
punishment. Under the one word “infidel,” even as late as Lord Coke,
were classed together all who were not Christians, even though they were
Mahommedans, Brahmins, or Jews. All who did not accept the Christian
faith were sweepingly denounced as infidels and therefore *hors de la
loi*. One hundred and forty-five years since, the Attorney-General,
pleading in our highest court, said: [7]_ “What is the definition of an
infidel? Why, one who does not believe in the Christian religion. Then a
Jew is an infidel.” And English history for several centuries prior
to the Commonwealth shows how habitually and most atrociously Christian
kings, Christian courts, and Christian churches, persecuted and harassed
these infidel Jews. There was a time in England when Jews were such
infidels that they were not even allowed to be sworn as witnesses. In
1740 a legacy left for establishing an assembly for the reading of
the Jewish scriptures was held to be void [8]_ because it was “for
the propagation of the Jewish law in contradiction to the Christian
religion.” It is only in very modern times that municipal rights have
been accorded in England to Jews. It is barely thirty years since they
have been allowed to sit in Parliament. In 1851, the late Mr. Newdegate
in debate [9]_ objected “that they should have sitting in that House
an individual who regarded our Redeemer as an impostor.” Lord Chief
Justice Raymond has shown [10]_ how it was that Christian intolerance was
gradually broken down. “A Jew may sue at this day, but heretofore he
could not; for then they were looked upon as enemies, but now commerce
has taught the world more humanity.”


.. [7] Omychund v. Barker, 1 Atkyns 29.


.. [8] D’Costa v. D’Pays, Amb. 228.


.. [9] 3 Hansard cxvi, 381.


.. [10] Lord Raymond’s reports 282, Wells v. Williams.


Lord Coke treated the infidel as one who in law had no right of any
kind, with whom no contract need be kept, to whom no debt was payable.
The plea of alien infidel as answer to a claim was actually pleaded in
court as late as 1737. [11]_ In a solemn judgment, Lord Coke says: [12]_

.. [11] Ramkissenseat v Barker, 1 Atkyns 51.

.. [12] Coke’s reports, Calvin’s case.


“All infidels are in law *perpetui inimici*; for between them, as with
the devils whose subjects they be, and the Christian, there is perpetual
hostility.” Twenty years ago the law of England required the writer of
any periodical publication or pamphlet under sixpence in price to give
sureties for £800 against the publication of blasphemy. I was the last
person prosecuted in 1868 for non-compliance with that law, which was
repealed by Mr. Gladstone in 1869. Up till the 23rd December, 1888, an
infidel in Scotland was only allowed to enforce any legal claim in court
on condition that, if challenged, he denied his infidelity. If he lied
and said he was a Christian, he was accepted, despite his lying. If he
told the truth and said he was an unbeliever, then he was practically
an outlaw, incompetent to give evidence for himself or for any other.
Fortunately all this was changed by the Royal assent to the Oaths Act on
24th December. Has not humanity clearly gained a little in this struggle
through unbelief?

For more than a century and a half the Roman Catholic had in practice
harsher measure dealt out to him by the English Protestant Christian,
than was even during that period the fate of the Jew or the unbeliever.
If the Roman Catholic would not take the oath of abnegation, which to
a sincere Romanist was impossible, he was in effect an outlaw, and the
“jury packing” so much complained of to-day in Ireland is one of the
habit survivals of the old bad time when Roman Catholics were thus by
law excluded from the jury box.

*The Scotsman* of January 5th, 1889, notes that in 1860 the Rev. Dr.
Robert Lee, of Greyfriars, gave a course of Sunday evening lectures on
Biblical Criticism, in which he showed the absurdity and untenableness
of regarding every word in the Bible as inspired; and it adds:

“We well remember the awful indignation such opinions inspired, and it
is refreshing to contrast them with the calmness with which they are
now received. Not only from the pulpits of the city, but from the press
(misnamed religious) were his doctrines denounced. And one eminent
U.P. minister went the length of publicly praying for him, and for the
students under his care. It speaks volumes for the progress made since
then, when we think in all probability Dr. Charteris, Dr. Lee’s
successor in the chair, differs in his teaching from the Confession of
Faith much more widely than Dr. Lee ever did, and yet he is considered
supremely orthodox, whereas the stigma of heresy was attached to the
other all his life.”

And this change and gain to humanity is due to the gradual progress of
unbelief, alike inside and outside the Churches. Take from differing
Churches two recent illustrations: The late Principal Dr. Lindsay
Alexander, a strict Calvinist, in his important work on “Biblical
Theology” claims that “all the statements of Scripture are alike to
be deferred to as presenting to us the mind of God.”

Yet the Rev. Dr. of Divinity also says:

“We find in their writings [i.e., in the writings of the sacred
authors] statements which no ingenuity can reconcile with what modern
research has shown to be the scientific truth—i.e., we find in them
statements which modern science proves to be erroneous.”

At the last Southwell Diocesan Church of England Conference at Derby,
the Bishop of the Diocese presiding, the Rev. J.G. Richardson said of
the Old Testament that “it was no longer honest or even safe to
deny that this noble literature, rich in all the elements of moral or
spiritual grandeur, given—so the Church had always taught, and would
always teach—under the inspiration of Almighty God, was sometimes
mistaken in its science, was sometimes inaccurate in its history, and
sometimes only relative and accommodatory in its morality. It assumed
theories of the physical world which science had abandoned and could
never resume; it contained passages of narrative which devout and
temperate men pronounced discredited, both by external and internal
evidence; it praised, or justified, or approved, or condoned, or
tolerated, conduct which the teaching of Christ and the conscience of
the Christian alike condemned.”

Or, as I should urge, the gain to humanity by unbelief is that “the
teaching of Christ” has been modified, enlarged, widened, and
humanised, and that “the conscience of the Christian” is in quantity
and quality made fitter for human progress by the ever increasing
additions of knowledge of these later and more heretical days.


.. clearpage::

SUPERNATURAL AND RATIONAL MORALITY
==================================

.. dropcap:: T THE


THE essential of all religion is supernaturalism, and every religious
system therefore involves at least dualism; as creator and created,
ruler and ruled. This definition would, of course, exclude Pantheism
from consideration as a religion. Supernaturalism is for a rationalist
a word of self-contradiction. Nature to him means all phenomena, and all
that is necessary to the happening of every phenomenon; that is, nature
is the equivalent of everything. To the rationalist there can be nothing
supernatural. He is a Monist. There is, he affirms, one existence; he
knows only its phenomena. These phenomena he distinguishes in thought by
their varying characteristics. To the rationalist the word “create”
in the sense of absolute origin of substance is a word without meaning.
He cannot think totality of existence increased or non-existent.
“Substance,” “existence,” “matter,” is to him the totality:
known, and, as far as he can yet think, knowable only in its phenomena.

It has been assumed so generally by religious advocates that some
theologic dogma is necessary to every system of morality that the
assumption needs direct traverse. It is put to-day by many of those who
are attacking secular education for the young that without religious
teaching there is no morality possible. This inaccuracy of speech is
the result of centuries of supernaturalistic bias. Buckle considers
Charron’s “Treatise on Wisdom” as the first “attempt made in
a modern language to construct a system of morals without the aid of
theology.” Charron says (Book II, chap. 5, sec. 4) that moral duties
“are purely the result of a reasonable and thinking mind.”

It will be contended here that every system of “supernatural”
morality is necessarily uncertain, arbitrary, and confusing. That
moral progress is only made in the ratio in which supernaturalism is
diminished.


THE RATIONALIST VIEW

To the rationalist that act is moral which tends to the greatest
happiness of the greatest number of the human family with the least
injury to any. That is, the test of the morality of any act is its
utility. The experience of all ages, collated and classified by the most
careful and accurate amongst investigators and profound thinkers,
and checked and verified by each day’s new discoveries and newer
speculations, furnishes each individual with a sufficient but not
infallible moral guide. Morality is social; that is, all acts are moral
which tend to promote, build up, and ensure the permanent well being
of society. Tendencies to moral conduct are transmitted partly by the
training of the young by those already with recognised habit of life,
and partly by the influence of heredity. In England Jeremy Bentham
and John Stuart Mill have been chiefly identified with the modern
affirmation of this utilitarian theory, and R. Hildreth, the translator
of Dumont’s “Bentham,” says: “Whatever may be thought of the
principle of utility, when considered as the foundation of morals, no
one now-a-days will undertake to deny that it is the only safe rule of
legislation.” Theologians object to the rationalist presentment of
morality: (a) That, according to the rationalist, morality varies,
or, (b) that at any rate the conceptions of morality vary. That with
different persons, therefore, there may be different views of what is
moral, and there being no reliable, unchangeable, and definite standard,
the rationalist position is chaotic. (c) The theologian asks, who is to
judge on each act, whether or not it is moral? and (d) the theologian
alleges that the measure of rational morality is the equivalent of mere
individual selfishness, i.e. that the rationalist only seeks his own
happiness, that is, only seeks to gratify his own desires.

The rationalist answers (a) that the test of rational morality never
varies; that the ability to apply the test does vary with the higher
education of the masses. (b) That the standard, though not infallible,
is sufficiently reliable for everyday life, and that rationalists
seek each day to improve the efficiency of the standard by enforcing
generally more accurate knowledge of life-conditions, thus developing a
sound healthy public opinion. (c) Each individual must judge for herself
or himself, and therefore should be well taught, or at least should have
fair opportunity of being well taught, and should be encouraged to be
well taught. It follows from this that morality develops with education.
Immorality and ignorance are inseparable. (d) That if it be selfish
to desire personal happiness, knowing that to permanently secure
such happiness it is necessary to always promote the happiness of the
majority, avoiding injury to any, then the rational moralist must be
content to be called selfish. He suggests that if there is anything in
the objection, it equally, if not with greater force, applies to the
Christian supernaturalist who desires to be eternally happy though he
knows that “few are chosen,” and that “many shall strive to enter
in and shall not be able.”


THE SUPERNATURAL VIEW

That act is moral which is in obedience to or in accord with the
commands of deity. That these commands are known (a) by direct
revelation from God; or (b) through the human conscience, which it is
alleged is implanted by God in each individual, and which infallibly
decides for each person what acts are right and what are wrong.

“For those who believe in the God of Christian morality,” says the
Rev. J. Llewellyn Davies, in the preface to his discourses on social
questions, “the ultimate sources and rule of morality can be no other
than His will;” and Mr. Davies contends that rationalists “can find
no scientific basis for duty, no adequate explanation of conscience.”

The rationalist objects (a) that the commands of deity must be expressed
either (1) to individuals or (2) to the whole race. In the first case
the rationalist asks, How is it to be determined when any individual is
reliable who professes to be the recipient and interpreter of God’s
commands? In the second case he asks, Is it conceivable that any such
command should have been given to the whole human race without its most
complete recognition on the part of the recipients? When an individual
claims to be the medium of transmission of divine communication, how is
his claim to be tested? How is it clear that the communication was made?
that the individual understood it? and that he has correctly interpreted
it? If by the quality of the communication he makes, then by what
standard is the quality to be judged? The Mahdi claimed to be God-sent;
Joseph Smith declared himself charged with a special revelation; so
did Mahomet; so did Jesus. How, in either case, is it to be determined
whether the prophet is sane and truthful? Is it to be decided by the
numbers who accepted or rejected the prophet? and if yes, at what date
or within what limits does the numerical strength become material? There
are more Mormons now than there were Christians within a like period.
Mahomedanism in some countries would poll an overwhelming majority.
Buddhism counts to-day far more heads than can be claimed for
Christianity. And what is called Christianity is subdivisible into many
sects as hostile to each other, though Christian, as the Christian is to
the Mahomedan.

There is most certainly no one revelation to the whole race universally
admitted to be the revealed command of God. It is asserted by some that
the Bible is such a revelation, but the large majority of the world’s
inhabitants do not now accept it: the largest proportion of the human
family have never accepted it. And even of the minority who nominally
accept the Bible as God’s revelation, there are many, calling
themselves Christians, who declare that the Old Testament is now very
imperfect as a moral guide, and that it was only given to the Jews on
account of the hardness of their hearts; whilst the Jews on the other
hand entirely reject the New Testament. Christians are divided into
Roman Catholics and Protestants. The latter say, or at any rate in
majority say, that the Bible is an infallible moral guide. Roman
Catholics deny that the Bible is a rule of faith except under the
interpretation of the Church. Protestants are divided as to the value of
various versions and translations, and as to the extent to which the Old
Testament is to be regarded as superseded by the New. Even in the Church
of England there is an authorised version and a revised improvement as
yet unauthorised.

(b) The rationalist further objects that what is described by the
supernaturalist as the human conscience is not a special faculty,
unvarying and identical in all, but that it is in each individual
a variable result of heredity, organisation, education, and general
life-surroundings, enabling judgment by the individual on the
consequence of events; that it affords no reliable clue to what is
moral, for the general judgments of public conscience as embodied in
public opinion, or in statute law, have varied in the same country in
different ages to the extent sometimes of absolute and irreconcileable
contradiction. That the individual conscience, so-called, varies in the
same individual at different periods of his life and under different
conditions of health. That at the present moment the judgments of
conscience are on most material points in direct conflict in different
parts of the world. Two hundred and fifty years ago it was moral in
England to believe in witches, and it was a moral act to kill a witch.
To-day it is held immoral to believe in witchcraft; to kill a witch
would now be at law a criminal act. Witchcraft is so admittedly false
that palmistry, conjuring, and fortune-telling are treated as punishable
frauds. Yet from the supernatural point of view the reality of
witchcraft is unquestionable, and the praiseworthiness of witchkilling
is indisputable (*vide* Exodus xxii, 18; Leviticus xix, 26-31, xx, 27;
Deut. xviii, 10, 11; 1 Sam. xxviii). And in some of the districts of
England where school boards are yet without influence and where godless
education has been prevented, the pious ignorant folk still believe in
charms, wise women, and white and black magic.

One hundred years ago it was moral to trade in slaves, to own slaves,
and to breed slaves. Even twenty-five years ago it was moral to own
and breed slaves in the United States of America. Pious Bristol
slave-traders in the 18th century endowed churches from the profits of
their commerce. To-day slave-holding is not only punishable by law, but
the theory of slavery is indignantly repudiated by all decent English
folk. And yet supernaturalism maintained and legalised slavery
(Leviticus xxv, 44-46). Wilberforce, the English abolitionist, himself
a professing Christian, noting that infidel France had set its negroes
free, asked in the House of Commons, on February 11th, 1796: “What
would some future historian say in describing two great nations, the one
accused of promoting anarchy and confusion and every human misery,
yet giving liberty to the African; the other country contending for
religion, morality, and justice, yet obstinately continuing a system
of cruelty and injustice?” In the American Congress, in 1790, the
representative of South Carolina affirmed that the clergy did not
condemn either slavery or the slave-trade, and Mr. Jackson, of Georgia,
maintained that religion was not against slavery. On the 4th September,
1835, the Courier, Charleston, South Carolina, reports that at the
celebrated pro-slavery meeting held there, “the clergy of all
denominations attended in a body, lending their sanction to the
proceedings, and adding by their presence to the impressive character of
the scene.” The rationalist asks, What was it that the consciences of
these Christian men said on the subject of slavery only fifty years ago?
Even in Boston, Massachusetts, William Lloyd Garrison, the abolitionist,
though an earnest Christian, was shut out of Christian society; and the
only building in that city of many churches in which he was at first
allowed to publicly plead for the abolition of slavery was a hall owned
by Abner Kneeland, an infidel who had been convicted and sent to gaol
as a blasphemer. Why for centuries did Christians trade in slaves,
if supernatural morality is dependent on the immutable judgments of a
God-ordained conscience? Why, if slavery was defensible by supernatural
moralists only twenty-five years ago, has it now become utterly
indefensible?

In England it is immoral to marry the sister of your deceased wife, and
the immorality is so clear and flagrant that any children born of such a
marriage are bastardized, and in the event of an intestacy are excluded
from sharing the property of either of the parents. In Canada it is
moral to marry your deceased wife’s sister, and the children are
respected as legitimate. A few years ago a great supernaturalist, a
leader in the religious body to which he belonged, an eloquent preacher,
an otherwise good man, desired to marry his deceased wife’s sister.
It being immoral in this country he went abroad to another country where
the act was moral, and there he married. The rationalist asks, How is
this explicable from the supernatural standpoint?

In any part of Great Britain or Ireland it is immoral to have more
than one wife, and the law will punish the parties to the union and put
disabilities on the issue. In India, under British law, it is moral to
have more than one wife, and the Christian law-courts sitting in London
will recognise the children of that union. Christian supernaturalists
will admit: That good men like Abraham had more than one wife; that
specially-rewarded men like David practised polygamy; but they say that
this is an old practice, which, though once good, is no longer to be
followed.

In England it is clearly immoral for one man to prepare and use
dynamite or other explosives so as to destroy the life and property
of Englishmen. But in England it is as clearly moral for men in the
Woolwich government laboratory to prepare and use similar explosives to
blow to pieces people in Egypt, the Soudan, or elsewhere. The morality
is vouched by the fact that an archbishop issues a special prayer to be
offered in all the churches for the success of the expedition carrying
the explosives.

Belief is moral from the supernatural standpoint; unbelief immoral and
punishable. The rationalist says that the varying beliefs of the world
are the natural result of organisation of transmitted traditions and
present life-surroundings; that beliefs are not criminal even when they
are erroneous, and that wrong beliefs should be met by refutation, not
by punishment.

The rationalist affirms that there are only two logical standpoints;
one, that of submission of opinion to arbitrary authority. This, in
Christianity, is the position of the church of Rome. The other, that of
the assertion of the right and duty of private judgment.

The Christian supernaturalist has, in England, considerably modified, in
recent times, his action on the immorality of unbelief. In the time of
Lord Coke a Turk was an infidel with whom no agreement was binding.
From the reign of William III, until late in the reign of George III,
Unitarianism was a crime by act of Parliament.

Until late in the reign of George IV Roman Catholicism was a crime
punishable by law. Until 1859 a Jew was considered sufficiently wicked
to be deprived of many civil rights. Two hundred and thirty years ago
Quakers were immoral men, and as such were publicly whipped.

The supernaturalist recommends right conduct that you may be rewarded
when you are dead. The rationalist recommends right conduct because in
increasing the present total of human happiness you increase your own
happiness now, and render future happiness more easily attainable by
others.

These are only a few of many like-charactered illustrations which
entitle the rationalist to return on the supernaturalist the weight of
the Rev. J. Llewellyn Davies’ above-quoted contention.


.. clearpage::

HAS MAN A SOUL?
===============

.. dropcap:: T THE


THE first step in this inquiry is to define what is meant; by the word
“soul,” and the initial difficulty is that it is much easier to
agree with theologians upon what is not meant than upon what is meant.
Sometimes orthodox talkers seem to confuse “soul” with “life”
and “mind,” and they use “soul” or “spirit” as if expressing
contrast with “matter.” To at least prevent, as much as possible,
misapprehension of our own meaning, we shall try to define each word.

Limiting here the use of the word “life” to the animal kingdom, it
is defined to mean the total organic functional activity of each animal.
Accepting this definition, “life” will express a variable result not
only in each individual, but in the same individual in childhood, prime,
or old age. Life is not an entity, it is the state of an organised body
in which the organs perform their individual and collective functions.
When all the organs do this efficiently, we call this state health; when
some of the organs fail, or do too much, we call this disease; when all
the organs permanently cease to perform their functions, we call this
death. Life, then, is a state of the body; health and disease are phases
of life; death is the termination of life. Life is the word by which we
describe the result of a certain collocation; but this does not
imply that life can be predicated of any or all the components taken
separately. By the life of an animal is meant the existence of that
animal; when dead, the animal no longer exists; the substance of what
was the animal thenceforth exists in other modes, but the organism has
ceased. The life of each animal is as distinct from that of each other
animal as is the weight or size of each animal distinct from the weight
and size of any other animal; and the life of the animal no more exists
after the animal has ceased than does the weight or the size of the
animal exist, after its body is destroyed. The word “life” used of
an oyster, a lobster, a sheep, a horse, or of a human being, expresses
in each case a state distinguishable in significance. Life is the
special activity of each organised being; the sum of the phenomena
proper to organised bodies. George Henry Lewes says: “Life is the
functional activity of an organism in relation to its medium. Every part
of a living organism is vital as pertaining to life: but no part has
this life when isolated; for life is the synthesis of all the parts.”
Theologians sometimes seek to make contrasts between living animals and
what they are pleased to term dead matter. Life is not a contrast to
non-living substance, but a different condition of it.

By the word “matter,” or “substance,” or “nature,” is
intended the sum of all phenomena, actual, past, possible, and of all
that is necessary for the happening of any and every phenomenon.

The word “force” includes every phase of activity. Force does not
express an entity, but is the word by which we account for, or rather
the word by the use of which we avoid explaining, the activity of
matter, or, as G.H. Lewes would write it, the activity of the felt. He
says: “All we know is feeling and changes of feeling. We class the
felt apart from the changes, the one as matter, the other as force. The
qualities of matter are our feelings; the properties of matter are its
qualities, viewed in reference to the effects of one body on another,
rather than their effects on us. Both qualities and properties are
forces, when considered as affecting changes.” By the “mind”
of any animal is meant the sum of the remembered perceptions of that
animal, and its, his, or her, thinkings on such perceptions. Says Max
Müller: “All consciousness begins with sensuous perception, with what
we feel, and hear, and see.” “Out of this we construct what may be
called conceptual knowledge.” “Thinking consists simply in addition
and subtraction of precepts and concepts.”

Those who maintain the doctrine of what is called the immortality of
the soul, contend for the existence of a living, thinking spirit, which,
they say, is not the body, and which, they urge, will continue when the
body has ceased. The burden of proving this “soul” rests on those
who maintain and assert it. It is clear that there is no identity
between life and “soul;” life commences, varies, and ceases, in
accordance with the growth, decay, and dissolution of the body. The
orthodox contention for soul must be that its existence is independent
of the body, and this shows that soul is not life. Nor is there any
identity between mind and soul. All perception is dependent on the
(bodily) perceptive ability and its exercise. All thought has some
action of the bodily organism for its immediate antecedent and
accompaniment. As the soul is not life, is not mind, and cannot be body,
what is it? To call it spirit, and to leave the word spirit undefined
is to do nothing. Religionists talk to me of my “soul;” that is,
an individual soul continuing to exist, they say, with a continuing
consciousness of personal identity after “I” am dead. But if a baby
two months old dies, what consciousness of personal identity continues
in such a case? Or, if an idiot from birth dies at the age of eighteen:
or if a person, sane until twenty, becomes insane, lives insane until
forty, and then dies: in either of these two cases what is it that is
supposed to be the personal identity which continues after death? And
what is meant by my “soul” living after “I” am dead? The word
“I” to me represents the bodily organism, its vital and mental
activities. To tell me that my body dies and that yet my life continues
is a contradiction in terms. To declare that my life has ended, but that
I continue to think is to affirm a like contradiction. Religionists
seem to think that they avoid the difficulty, or turn it upon us, by
propounding riddles. They analyse the body, and, giving a list of what
they call elementary substances, they say: Can oxygen think? can carbon
think? can nitrogen think? and when they have triumphantly gone through
the list, they add, that as none of these by itself can think, thought
is not a result of matter, but is a quality of soul. This reasoning at
best only amounts to declaring, “We know what body is, but we know
nothing of soul; as we cannot understand how body, which we do know, can
think, we therefore declare that it is soul, which we do not know,
that does think.” There is a still greater fault in this theological
reasoning in favor of the soul, for it assumes, contrary to experience,
that no quality or result can be found in a given combination which
is not also discoverable in each or any of the modes, parts, atoms, or
elements combined. Yet this is monstrously absurd. Sugar tastes sweet,
but neither carbon, nor oxygen, nor hydrogen, separately tasted,
exhibits sweetness; yet sugar is the word by which you describe a
certain combination of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen. I contend that
the word “soul,” in relation to human, vital, and mental phenomena,
occupies an analagous position to that which used to be occupied by such
words as “demon,” “genii,” “gnome,” “fairy,” “gods,”
in relation to general physical phenomena.

The ability to think is never found except as an ability of animal
organisation, and the ability is always found higher or lower as the
organisation is higher or lower: the exercise of this ability varies
in childhood, youth, prime, and old age, and is promoted or hindered by
climate, food, and mode of life; yet the orthodox maintainers of soul
require us to believe that the ability to think might be found without
animal organisation, and might, nay will, exist independent of all vital
conditions. They contend that what they call the soul will live when the
human being has ceased to live; but they do not explain whether it did
live before the human being began to live. The orthodox contend that
as what they call the elementary substances, taken separately, do not
think, therefore man without a soul cannot think, and that as man does
think he must have a soul. This argument, if valid at all, goes much too
far; a trout thinks, a carp thinks, a rat thinks, a dog thinks, a horse
thinks, and, by parity of reasoning, all these animals should have
immortal souls.

It is sometimes urged that to deny the immortality of the soul is to
reduce man to the level of the beast, but it is forgotten that mankind
are not quite on a level. Take the savage, with lower jaw projecting far
in advance, and compare him with Dante, Shakspere,

Milton, or Voltaire. Take the Papuan and Plato; the Esquimaux and
Confucius; and then ask whether it is possible to contend that all human
beings have equal souls?

The orthodox man declares that my soul is spirit, that my body is
matter; that my soul has nothing in common with my body; that it exists
entirely independently of my body; that my soul lives after my body has
ceased to live; that, after my body has decayed, is disintegrated,
and become absorbed in and commingled with the elements, my soul still
continues uncorrupted and unaffected. But not a shadow of proof or even
of reasonable explanation is offered in support of any clause in this
declaration. The word “spirit” is left utterly undefined. No sort
of explanation is given of the nexus between the two alleged distinct
existences, “body” and “soul.” Not a trace is suggested
of “soul,” otherwise than through what are admittedly material
conditions.

Those who allege that there is a distinct “soul” which is to
live for ever should also explain whether or not this soul has always
existed—i.e. whether my soul existed prior to the commencement and
clearly traceable growth of my body? And where? And for how long? If
it did exist prior to my commencement in the womb, how was it then
identifiable as my soul? If prior to my body it was not so identifiable,
how will it be identifiable after my body has ceased? If the soul
existed prior to my body, had it always existed? If yes, do you mean
that each soul is eternal? That no soul has ever begun to be?

If you argue for the eternity of the soul, you deny God as universal
creator; if you contend that soul commenced or was commenced, you should
also admit that it may finish or be finished. If the soul existed prior
to my body, had it been waiting inactive, but ready to occupy my body?
And if yes, when did the occupation commence? And was the soul always
existing perfect and unimprovable? If after vitalisation the unborn
child dies, what becomes of the soul? and what is it in such a case that
evidences that the particular soul had ever existed? If after birth the
baby dies before it thinks, though after it has breathed, where in this
case is the trace of the soul? If it should be conceded that my soul
only began with my body, why is it to be maintained that it will
not cease with my body? If, as is pretended, my “soul” is
not identifiable with my body, how is it that all intellectual
manifestations are affected by my bodily condition, growth, health,
decay? If the soul is immortal and immaterial, how is it that temporary
pressure on the brain may paralyse and prevent all mental manifestation,
and that fracture by a poker or by a bullet may annihilate the
possibility of any further mental activity? Henri Taine and Charles
Darwin have very carefully noted for us the evidence of gradual growth
of sensitive ability and of mind in children. Those who tell us of
soul—which is, they say, not body, nor quality of body, nor result of
body, nor influenced by body—should at least explain to us how it is
that all manifestations which they say are peculiar to soul keep pace
with, and are limited by, the development of body.

What the orthodox claim under the word soul is really the totality of
mental ability—founded in perception—and its exercise; dependent,
first, on the perceptive ability of the perceiver, and, secondly, on the
range of the activity of such ability. Even two individuals of similar
perceptive ability may have a varied store of perceptions, and
later perceptions in each case, even of identical phenomena, may in
consequence have different values. The memory of perception, comparison
of and distinguishment between perceptions, thoughts upon and concepts
as to perceptions, memory, comparison and distinguishment of all or any
of these, the various mental processes included in doubting, believing,
reasoning, willing, etc., all these—which I contend are the
consequences of vital organisation, commence with it, are strengthened
and weakened, and, which I maintain, cease with it—are included by the
orthodox under the word “soul.” None of the orthodox, and few of the
spiritualists, contend that the “memory” of the rat, the cow, or the
horse is to survive the decease of rat, cow, and horse. Scarcely
anyone is hardy enough to maintain that the ghost of the thinking sheep
persists with active thought after the slaughterhouse and dinner
of roast mutton. Yet if one range of animal mental ability is to be
classified as immortal, why not all? Why claim immortality for the
“soul” of the idiot, and deny it to the thought, memory, reason,
faith, doubt, and will of the retriever? None claim immortality for the
brightness of the steel when oxidation has so disfigured the surface
that rust has superseded all brilliance; none claim immortality for the
sweet odor of the rose when the vegetable mass emits only unpleasant
smells and exhibits unsightly rottenness; none claim immortality for the
color of the beautiful lily decayed and withered away. Those who claim
immortality for what they call the “soul” should first clearly
define it, and then at least try to prove that the attributes they claim
for soul are not the attributes of what we know as living body.

The word “mind” describes all the possible states of consciousness
of each animal; but as after its death there is no longer in that case
any continuing animal, so neither is there any possibly continuing mind.
But it is only in connexion with the mental and vital processes that
there is any shadow of attempt by theologians to in any fashion
identify soul, and therefore when life has ceased and consciousness is
consequently no longer, there is not even the faintest trace of aught
remaining to which the word “soul” can with any reasonableness be
applied from the theological standpoint. Dr. John Drysdale says: “The
mind, looked at in its complete state, in its unity, personality,
obedience to laws of its own, apparent spontaneity of action and
controlling power over the body, and in the total dissimilarity of
all its phenomena from all known bodily and material effects, has been
almost universally ascribed to the working of an immaterial substance
added to organised matter. But such a substance is quite as hypothetical
as the potentiality of mind lying in matter, and hence it explains
nothing; whereas, if we grant the possibility of consciousness as a
concomitant of certain material changes, the peculiarities of mind as an
action or function require no further explanation than the conditions of
those changes;” and, he adds, “it may be held proved in physiology
that for every feeling, every thought, and every volition, a correlative
change takes place in the nerve-matter, and, given this special change
in every respect identical, a similar state of circumstances will always
arise; that this process occupies time, that it requires a due supply
of oxygenated blood, that it is interrupted or destroyed by whatever
impairs the integrity of the nerve-matter, and, lastly, it is exhausted
by its own activity and requires rest.”

“If,” says the same writer, “the mind is merely a function of the
material organism, it must necessarily perish with it. If mind and life
are a compound of matter and some diffused ethereal spiritual substance,
then at death a personal continuance is equally impossible. If mind is
a spirit at all, it must be a definite, indivisible piece of spiritual
substance; and if naturally indestructible and immortal as the personal
human individual, it must be equally so in all individuals which display
mind. Now, it is too late in the day to require a single sentence in
proof of the existence of mind in animals; therefore, if the possession
of mind naturally involves the immortality of the soul, the latter
must be shared equally with the animals who certainly also possess the
conscious Ego;” and Dr. J. Drysdale maintains that mind is essentially
of the same nature in animals and in man, although of higher and
wider scope in the latter, and that in all cases mind is a function of
organised matter and necessarily perishes when that organisation ceases.

In all animals the living brain is essential to all phases of thought.
The thought-ability of any animal is always in precise proportion to the
perfection and activity of the brain. The power of developing thought
grows, diminishes, and ceases, the cessation always being complete when
the brain ceases to perform its vital functions. If the brain is injured
the thought-ability is impaired, the thinking deranged. Yet who to-day
would think it wise or necessary, with evidence of aberration of
thought resulting from local injury, to treat it as a case of demoniacal
possession?

One other difficulty in the discussion of this question is that new
discoveries are not taken into account by our spiritual antagonists in
estimating the value of old formulas. Two thousand three hundred years
ago demonology had not yet passed into the region of fable. Socrates
spoke of the soul as if it had been specially infused into the body by
the Gods, and declared “that the soul which resides in thy body can
govern it at pleasure;” but such discoveries have since been made in
physiology and psychology that were Socrates alive to-day Aristodemus
might now well make answers to the old Greek sage which were then
impossible. Plato, too, contended for the immortality of the human soul,
but under cover of this line of reasoning he also offered proof that
the world was an animal and had a like soul. Plato’s orthodox admirers
today carefully avoid Plato’s presentation of the earth as an animal
with an immortal soul. David Masson attributes to Auguste Comte the
first open and clear adoption of a position on the soul question which
rendered evasion difficult. “Previous physiological psychologists,
including phrenologists, had generally shrunk from the extreme to which
their opponents had said they were committed. They had kept up the
time-honored distinction between mind and body; they had used language
implying a recognition of some unknown anima, or vital principle,
concealed behind the animal organism; some of them had even been anxious
to vindicate their belief in the immateriality or transcendental nature
of this principle. But Comte ended all that shilly-shallying. Mind, he
said, is the name for the functions of brain and nerve; mind is brain
and nerve. This destroyed, that ceases.”

In his “Enigmas of Life” William Rathbone Greg concedes that
“visible and ascertainable phenomena give no countenance to the theory
of a future or spiritual life.” He urges that a sense of identity,
a conscious continuity of the Ego, is an essential element of the
doctrine, and Mr. Greg speaks of this as accounting for “the
astonishing doctrine of the resurrection of the body which has so
strangely and thoughtlessly found its way into the popular creed. The
primitive parents or congealers of that creed—whoever they may have
been—innocent of all science, and oddly muddled in their metaphysics,
but resolute in their conviction that the same persons who died
here should be, in very deed, the same who should rise
hereafter—systematised their anticipations into the notion that
the grave should give up its actual inmates for their ordained
transformation and their allotted fate. The current notion of the
approaching end of the world, no doubt helped to blind them to the
vulnerability, and indeed the fatal self-contradictions, of the form in
which they had embodied their faith. Of course, if they had taken
time to think, or if the Fathers of the Church had been more given to
thinking in the rigid meaning of the word, they would have discovered
that this special form rendered that faith absurd, indefensible, and
virtually impossible. They did not know, or they never considered, that
the buried body soon dissolves into its elements, which, in the course
of generations and centuries, pass into other combinations, form part of
other living creatures, feed and constitute countless organisations one
after another; so that when the graves are summoned ‘to give up the
dead that are in them,’ and the sea ‘the dead that are in it,’
they will be called on to surrender what they no longer possess, and
what no supernatural power can give back to them. It never occurred to
those creed makers, who thus took upon themselves to carnalise an idea
into a fact, that for every atom that once went to make up the body they
committed to the earth, there would be scores of claimants before
the Great Day of Account; and that even Omnipotence could scarcely be
expected to make the same component part be in two or ten places at
once. The original human frames, therefore, *could not be had when*, as
supposed, they would be wanted.” And in his “Creed of Christendom”
he writes: “Appearances all testify to the reality and permanence of
death; a fearful onus of proof lies upon those who contend that these
appearances are deceptive. When we interrogate the vast universe of
organisation, we see not simply life and death, but gradually growing
life and gradually approaching death. After death, all that we have ever
*known* of man is gone; all we have ever seen of him is dissolved into
its component elements; it does not *disappear* so as to leave us at
liberty to imagine that it may have gone to exist elsewhere, but is
actually used up as materials for other purposes.” There is one
alleged “indication of immortality” which Mr. Greg twice repeats,
and to which we will offer a word of reply. His statement is as follows:

“I refer to that *spontaneous*, irresistible, and, perhaps, nearly
universal, feeling we all experience on watching, just after death,
the body of someone we have intimately known; the conviction, I mean a
sense, a consciousness, an impression *which you have to fight against
if you wish to disbelieve or shake it off* that the form lying there
is not the Ego you have loved. It does not produce the effect of that
person’s personality. You miss the Ego though you have the frame.
The visible Presence only makes more vivid the sense of actual Absence.
Every feature, every substance, every phenomenon is there, and is
unchanged. You have seen the eyes as firmly closed, the limbs as
motionless, the breath almost as imperceptible, the face as fixed and
expressionless before, in sleep or in trance, without the same peculiar
sensation. The impression made is indefinable, and is not the result of
any conscious process of thought—that that body, quite unchanged to
the eye, is not, and never was your friend—the Ego you were conversant
with; and that his or her individuality was not the garment before you
*plus* a galvanic current; that, in fact, the Ego you knew once and
seek still, *was not that—is not there*. And if not there, it must
be *elsewhere or nowhere*, and ‘nowhere,’ I believe, modern science
will not suffer us to predicate of either force or substance that once
has been.”

Undoubtedly the dead body is not the living human being you loved. It
has ceased to live. Every phenomenon is not there unchanged, the whole
of the vital phenomena are wanting; there is a complete change so far
as organic functional activity is concerned. Even the body itself is not
quite unchanged to the eye. There is in most cases, and especially to
skilled vision, an easily detectible difference between a living man
and a corpse. To say that the Ego is not there, and if not there must be
elsewhere, is to use an absurd phrase. Take an ordinary drinking-glass
and crush it into powder, or shatter it into fragments, the
drinking-glass is not there, nor is it elsewhere; the combination which
made up drinking-glass no longer exists. Ego does not denote body only,
it denotes living body with personal characteristics. Take a bright
steel blade, let the surface be oxidised, and the brightness is no
longer there, nor is it elsewhere; it is only that the conditions which
were resultant in brightness no longer exist.

It used to be the fashion to argue at one time as if the majority of, if
not the whole of, the human race accepted, without doubt, the dogma of
the immortality of the soul; but such a contention is to-day utterly
impossible. Strauss, Büchner, Haeckel, Clifford, and a host of others,
take ground as representatives of thousands of heterodox Europeans,
and even in the pulpit itself orthodoxy is suspect. The Reverend Edward
White declares the “natural eternity of souls as a positive dogma to
be destitute of all evidence from nature or revelation;” and he refers
to “scientific biologists of the first rank, who, after careful study
of the phenomena of brain-production and mind-evolution throughout
living nature, and of the phenomena of waste and destruction in
unfinished organisms, declare it to be the height of absurdity to
maintain” this immortality doctrine; and Mr. White reminds us that
480 millions of Buddhists on the continent of Asia all believe in the
“extinction of individual being.” It is only fair, however, to add
here that scholars still dispute as to whether or not “nirvana”
should be read as meaning annihilation.

A quotation from Dr. Henry Maudsley may fitly terminate this brief
essay: “To those who cannot conceive that any organisation of matter,
however complete, should be capable of such exalted functions as
those which are called mental, is it really more conceivable that any
organisation of matter can be the mechanical instrument of the complex
manifestations of an immaterial mind? It is strangely overlooked by many
who write on this matter that the brain is not a dead instrument, but
a living organ, with functions of a higher kind than those of any other
bodily organ, insomuch as its organic nature and structure far surpass
those of any other organs. What, then, are those functions if they are
not mental? No one thinks it necessary to assume an immaterial liver
behind the hepatic structure, in order to account for its functions. But
so far as the nature of nerve and the complex structure of the cerebral
convolutions exceed in dignity the hepatic elements and structure, so
far must the material functions of the brain exceed those of the liver.
Men are not sufficiently careful to ponder the wonderful operations of
which matter is capable, or to reflect on the changes effected by
it which are continually before their eyes. Are the properties of a
chemical compound less mysterious essentially because of the familiarity
with which we handle them? Consider the seed dropped into the ground; it
swells with germinating energy, bursts its integuments, sends upwards a
delicate shoot, which grows into a stem, putting forth in due season
its leaves and flowers. And yet all these processes are operations
of matter, for it is not thought necessary to assume an immaterial or
spiritual plant which effects its purposes through the agency of the
material structure which we observe. Surely there are here exhibited
properties of matter wonderful enough to satisfy anyone of the powers
that may be inherent in it. Are we, then, to believe that the highest
and most complex development of organic structure is not capable of even
more wonderful operations? Would you have the human body, which is a
microcosm containing all the forms and powers of matter, organised in
the most delicate and complex manner, to possess lower powers than
those forms of matter exhibit separately in nature? Trace the gradual
development of the nervous system through the animal series, from its
first germ to its most complex evolution, and let it be declared at what
point it suddenly loses all its inherent properties as living structure,
and becomes the mere mechanical instrument of a spiritual entity. In
what animal, or in what class of animals, does the immaterial principle
abruptly intervene, and supersede the agency of matter, becoming the
entirely distinct cause of a similar, though more exalted, order
of phenomena? The burden of proving that the *deus ex machina* of a
spiritual entity intervenes somewhere, and where it intervenes, clearly
lies upon those who make the assertion, or who need the hypothesis.
They are not justified in arbitrarily fabricating a hypothesis entirely
inconsistent with experience of the orderly development of nature, which
even postulates a domain of nature that human senses cannot take
any cognisance of, and in then calling upon those who reject their
assumption to disprove it.”


.. clearpage::

IS THERE A GOD
==============

.. dropcap:: T THE


THE initial difficulty is in defining the word “God.” It is equally
impossible to intelligently affirm or deny any proposition unless there
is at least an understanding, on the part of the affirmer or denier,
of the meaning of every word used in the proposition. To me the word
“God” standing alone is a word without meaning. I find the word
repeatedly used even by men of education and refinement, and who have
won reputation in special directions of research, rather to illustrate
their ignorance than to explain their knowledge. Various sects of
Theists do affix arbitrary meanings to the word “God,” but often
these meanings are in their terms selfcontradictory, and usually the
definition maintained by one sect of Theists more or less contradicts
the definition put forward by some other sect. With the Unitarian
Jew, the Trinitarian Christian, the old Polytheistic Greek, the modern
Universalist, or the Calvinist, the word “God” will in each case be
intended to express a proposition absolutely irreconcilable with those
of the other sects. In this brief essay, which can by no means be taken
as a complete answer to the question which forms its title, I will for
the sake of argument take the explanation of the word “God” as given
with great carefulness by Dr. Robert Flint, Professor of Divinity in the
University of Edinburgh, in two works directed by him against Atheism.
He defines God (“Antitheistic Theories,” p. 1,) as “a supreme,
self-existent, omnipotent, omniscient, righteous and benevolent
being who is distinct from and independent of what he has created;”
(“Theism,” p. 1,) as “a self-existent, eternal being, infinite
in power and wisdom, and perfect in holiness and goodness, the maker
of heaven and earth;” and (p. 18,) “the creator and preserver
of nature, the governor of nations, the heavenly father and judge
of man;” (p. 18,) “one infinite personal;” (p. 42,) “the
one infinite” being” who “is a person—is a free and loving
intelligence;” (p. 59,) “the creator, preserver, and ruler of all
finite beings;” (p. 65,) “not only the ultimate cause, but the
supreme intelligence;” and (p. 74,) “the supreme moral intelligence
is an unchangeable being.” That is, in the above statements “God”
is defined by Professor Flint to be: *A supreme, self-existent, the one
infinite, eternal, omnipotent, omniscient, unchangeable, righteous, and
benevolent, personal being, creator and preserver of nature, maker of
heaven and earth; who is distinct from and independent of what he
has created, who is a free, loving, supreme, moral intelligence, the
governor of nations, the heavenly father and judge of man.*

The two volumes, published by William Blackwood and Son,
from which this definition has been collected, form the Baird
Lectures in favor of Theism for the years 1876 and 1877. Professor
Flint has a well-deserved reputation as a clear thinker and writer of
excellent ability as a Theistic advocate. I trust, therefore, I am not
acting unfairly in criticising his definition. My first objection is,
that to me the definition is on the face of it so self-contradictory
that a negative answer must be given to the question, Is there such
a God? The association of the word “supreme” with the word
“infinite” as descriptive of a “personal being” is utterly
confusing. “Supreme” can only be used as expressing comparison
between the being to whom it is applied, and some other being with
whom that “supreme” being is assumed to have possible points of
comparison and is then compared. But “the one infinite being”
cannot be compared with any other infinite being, for the wording of
the definition excludes the possibility of any other infinite being, nor
could the infinite being—for the word “one” may be dispensed with,
as two infinite beings are unthinkable—be compared with any finite
being. “Supreme” is an adjective of relation and is totally
inapplicable to “the infinite.” It can only be applied to one of two
or more finites. “Supreme” with “omnipotent” is pleonastic.
If it is said that the word “supreme” is now properly used to
distinguish between the Creator and the created, the governor and that
which is governed, then it is clear that the word “supreme” would
have been an inapplicable word of description to “the one infinite
being” prior to creation, and this would involve the declaration that
the exact description of the unchangeable has been properly changed,
which is an absurdity. The definition affirms “creation,” that is,
affirms “God” existing prior to such creation—i.e., then the sole
existence; but the word “supreme” could not then apply. An
existence cannot be described as “highest” when there is none
other; therefore, none less high. The word “supreme” as a word of
description is absolutely contradictory of Monism. Yet Professor Flint
himself says (“Anti-Theistic Theories,” p. 132), “that reason,
when in quest of an ultimate explanation of things, imperatively demands
unity, and that only a Monistic theory of the universe can deserve the
name of a philosophy.” Professor Flint has given no explanation of the
meaning he attaches to the word “self-existent.” Nor, indeed, has
he given any explanation of any of his words of description. By
self-existent I mean that to which you cannot conceive antecedent. By
“infinite” I mean immeasurable, illimitable, indefinable; i.e., that
of which I cannot predicate extension, or limitation of extension. By
“eternal” I mean illimitable, indefinable, i.e., that of which I
cannot predicate limitation of duration or progression of duration.

“Nature” is with me the same as “universe,” the same as
“existence;” i.e., I mean by it: The totality of all phenomena, and
of all that has been, is, or may be necessary for the happening of
each and every phenomenon. It is from the very terms of the definition,
self-existent, eternal, infinite. I cannot think of nature commencement,
discontinuity, or creation. I am unable to think backward to the
possibility of existence not having been. I cannot think forward to the
possibility of existence ceasing to be. I have no meaning for the
word “create” except to denote change of condition. Origin of
“universe” is to me absolutely unthinkable. Sir William Hamilton
(“Lectures and Discussions,” p. 610) affirms: that when aware of
a new appearance we are utterly unable to conceive that there has
originated any new existence; that we are utterly unable to think
that the complement of existence has ever been either increased or
diminished; that we can neither conceive nothing becoming something,
or something becoming nothing. Professor Flint’s definition affirms
“God” as existing “distinct from, and independent of, what he
has created.” But what can such words mean when used of the
“infinite?” Does “distinct from” mean separate from? Does the
“universe” existing distinct from God mean in addition to? and in
other place than? or, have the words no meaning?

Of all words in Professor Flint’s definition, which would be
appropriate if used of human beings, I mean the same as I should mean if
I used the same words in the highest possible degree of any human
being. Here I maintain the position taken by John Stuart Mill in his
examination of Sir W. Hamilton (p. 122). Righteousness and benevolence
are two of the words of description included in the definition of this
creator and governor of nations. But is it righteous and benevolent to
create men and govern nations so that the men act criminally and the
nations seek to destroy one another in war? Professor Flint does not
deny (“Theism,” p. 256) “that God could have originated a sinless
moral system,” and he adds: “I have no doubt that God has actually
made many moral beings who are certain never to oppose their own wills
to his, or that he might, if he had so pleased, have created only such
angels as were sure to keep their first estate.” But it is inaccurate
to describe a “God” as righteous or benevolent who, having the
complete power to originate a sinless moral system, is admitted to have
originated a system in which sinfulness and immorality were not only
left possible, but have actually, in consequence of God’s rule
and government, become abundant. It cannot be righteous for the
“omnipotent” to be making human beings contrived and designed by his
omniscience so as to be fitted for the commission of sin. It cannot be
benevolent in “God” to contrive and create a hell in which he is
to torment the human beings who have sinned because made by him in sin.
“God,” if omnipotent and omniscient, could just as easily, and
much more benevolently, have contrived that there should never be any
sinners, and, therefore, never any need for hell or torment.

The Rev. R.A. Armstrong, with whom I debated this question, says:—

“‘Either,’ argues Mr. Bradlaugh, in effect, ‘God could make a
world without suffering, or he could not. If he could and did not, he is
not all-good. If he could not, he is not all-powerful.’ The reply is,
What do you mean by all-powerful? If you mean having power to reconcile
things in themselves contradictory, we do not hold that God is
all-powerful. But a humanity, from the first enjoying immunity
from suffering, and yet possessed of nobility of character, is a
self-contradictory conception.”

That is, Mr. Armstrong thinks that a “sinless moral system from the
first is a self-contradictory conception.”

It is difficult to think a loving governor of nations arranging one
set of cannibals to eat, and another set of human beings to be eaten
by their fellow-men. It is impossible to think a loving creator
and governor contriving a human being to be born into the world the
pre-natal victim of transmitted disease. It is repugnant to reason to
affirm this “free loving supreme moral intelligence” planning
and contriving the enduring through centuries of criminal classes,
plague-spots on civilisation.

The word “unchangeable” contradicts the word “creator.” Any
theory of creation must imply some period when the being was not yet the
creator, that is, when yet the creation was not performed, and the
act of creation must in such case, at any rate, involve temporary or
permanent change in the mode of existence of the being creating.
So, too, the words of description “governor of nations” are
irreconcileable with the description “unchangeable,” applied to
a being alleged to have existed prior to the creation of the
“nations,” and therefore, of course, long before any act of
government could be exercised.

To speak of an infinite personal being seems to me pure contradiction
of terms. All attempts to think “person” involve thoughts of the
limited, finite, conditioned. To describe this infinite personal being
as distinct from some thing which is postulated as “what he has
created” is only to emphasise the contradiction, rendered perhaps
still more marked when the infinite personal being is described as
“intelligent.”

The Rev. R.A. Armstrong, in a prefatory note to the report of his debate
with myself on the question “Is it reasonable to worship God?” says:
“I have ventured upon alleging an intelligent cause of the phenomena
of the universe, in spite of the fact that in several of his writings
Mr. Bradlaugh has described intelligence as implying limitations. But
though intelligence, as known to us in man, is always hedged within
limits, there is no difficulty in conceiving each and every limit as
removed. In that case the essential conception of intelligence remains
the same precisely, although the change of conditions revolutionises
its mode of working.” This, it seems to me, is not accurate. The word
intelligence can only be accurately used of man, as in each case
meaning the totality of mental ability, its activity and result. If you
eliminate in each case all possibilities of mental ability there is no
“conception of intelligence” left, either essential or otherwise.
If you attempt to remove the limits, that is the organisation, the
intelligence ceases to be thinkable. It is unjustifiable to talk of
“change of conditions” when you remove the word intelligence as a
word of application to man or other thinking animal, and seek to apply
the word to the unconditional.

As an Atheist I affirm one existence, and deny the possibility of more
than one existence; by existence meaning, as I have already stated,
“the totality of all phenomena, and of all that has been, is, or may
be necessary for the happening of any and every phenomenon.” This
existence I know in its modes, each mode being distinguished in thought
by its qualities. By “mode” I mean each cognised condition; that
is, each phenomenon or aggregation of phenomena. By “quality” I mean
each characteristic by which in the act of thinking I distinguish.

The distinction between the Agnostic and the Atheist is that either the
Agnostic postulates an unknowable, or makes a blank avowal of general
ignorance. The Atheist does not do either; there is of course to him
much that is yet unknown, every effort of inquiry brings some of
this within reach of knowing. With “the unknowable” conceded, all
scientific teaching would be illusive. Every real scientist teaches
without reference to “God” or “the unknowable.” If the words
come in as part of the yesterday habit still clinging to-day, the
scientist conducts his experiments as though the words were not. Every
operation of life, of commerce, of war, of statesmanship, is dealt with
as though God were nonexistent. The general who asks God to give him
victory, and who thanks God for the conquest, would be regarded as a
lunatic by his Theistic brethren, if he placed the smallest reliance on
God’s omnipotence as a factor in winning the fight. Cannon, gunpowder,
shot, shell, dynamite, provision, men, horses, means of transport, the
value of these all estimated, then the help of “God” is added to
what is enough without God to secure the triumph. The surgeon who
in performing some delicate operation relied on God instead of his
instruments—the physician who counted on the unknowable in his
prescription—these would have poor clientele even amongst the
orthodox; save the peculiar people the most pious would avoid
their surgical or medical aid. The “God” of the Theist, the
“unknowable” of the Agnostic, are equally opposed to the Atheistic
affirmation. The Atheist enquires as to the unknown, affirms the true,
denies the untrue. The Agnostic knows not of any proposition whether it
be true or false.

Pantheists affirm one existence, but Pantheists declare that at any
rate some qualities are infinite, e.g. that existence is infinitely
intelligent. I, as an Atheist, can only think qualities of phenomena. I
know each phenomenon by its qualities. I know no qualities except as the
qualities of some phenomenon.

So long as the word “God” is undefined I do not deny “God.” To
the question, Is there such a God as defined by Professor Flint, I am
compelled to give a negative reply. If the word “God” is intended to
affirm Dualism, then as a Monist I negate “God.”

The attempts to prove the existence of God may be divided into three
classes:—1. Those which attempt to prove the objective existence of
God from the subjective notion of necessary existence in the human mind,
or from the assumed objectivity of space and time, interpreted as the
attributes of a necessary substance. 2. Those which “essay to prove
the existence of a supreme self-existent cause, from the mere fact
of the existence of the world by the application of the principle
of causality, starting with the postulate of any single existence
whatsoever, the world, or anything in the world, and proceeding to argue
backwards or upwards, the existence of one supreme cause is held to be
regressive inference from the existence of these effects.” But it is
enough to answer to these attempts, that if a supreme existence were so
demonstrable, that bare entity would not be identifiable with “God.”
“A demonstration of a primitive source of existence is of no formal
theological value. It is an absolute zero.”

3. The argument from design, or adaptation, in nature, the fitness of
means to an end, implying, it is said, an architect or designer. Or,
from the order in the universe, indicating, it is said, an orderer or
lawgiver, whose intelligence we thus discern.

But this argument is a failure, because from finite instances differing
in character it assumes an infinite cause absolutely the same for all.
Divine unity, divine personality, are here utterly unproved. “Why
should we rest in our inductive inference of one designer from the
alleged phenomena of design, when these are claimed to be so varied and
so complex?”

If the inference from design is to avail at all, it must avail to show
that all the phenomena leading to misery and mischief, must have been
designed and intended by a being finding pleasure in the production and
maintenance of this misery and mischief. If the alleged constructor of
the universe is supposed to have designed one beneficent result, must
he not equally be supposed to have designed all results? And if the
inference of benevolence and goodness be valid for some instances, must
not the inference of malevolence and wickedness be equally valid from
others? If, too, any inference is to be drawn from the illustration
of organs in animals supposed to be specially contrived for certain
results, what is the inference to be drawn from the many abortive and
incomplete organs, muscles, nerves, etc., now known to be traceable in
man and other animals? What inference is to be drawn from each instance
of deformity or malformation? But the argument from design, if it proved
anything, would at the most only prove an arranger of pre-existing
material; it in no sense leads to the conception of an originator of
substance.

There is no sort of analogy between a finite artificer arranging
a finite mechanism and an alleged divine creator originating all
existence. From an alleged product you are only at liberty to infer a
producer after having seen a similar product actually produced.


.. clearpage::

A PLEA FOR ATHEISM
==================

.. dropcap:: T THIS


THIS essay is issued in the hope that it may succeed in removing some
of the many prejudices prevalent, not only against the actual holders
of Atheistic opinions, but also against those wrongfully suspected of
Atheism. Men who have been famous for depth of thought, for excellent
wit, or great genius, have been recklessly assailed as Atheists by
those who lack the high qualifications against which the malice of the
calumniators was directed. Thus, not only have Voltaire and Paine
been, without ground, accused of Atheism, but Bacon, Locke, and Bishop
Berkeley himself, have, amongst others, been denounced by thoughtless
or unscrupulous pietists as inclining to Atheism, the ground for the
accusation being that they manifested an inclination to push human
thought a little in advance of the age in which they lived.

It is too often the fashion with persons of pious reputation to speak in
unmeasured language of Atheism as favoring immorality, and of Atheists
as men whose conduct is necessarily vicious, and who have adopted
Atheistic views as a desperate defiance against a Deity justly offended
by the badness of their lives. Such persons urge that amongst the
proximate causes of Atheism are vicious training, immoral and profligate
companions, licentious living and the like. Dr. John Pye Smith, in his
“Instructions on Christian Theology,” goes so far as to declare
that “nearly all the Atheists upon record have been men of extremely
debauched and vile conduct.” Such language from the Christian advocate
is not surprising, but there are others who, while professing great
desire for the spread of Freethought and having pretensions to rank
amongst acute and liberal thinkers, declare Atheism impracticable, and
its teachings cold, barren, and negative. Excepting to each of the
above allegations, I maintain that thoughtful Atheism affords greater
possibility for human happiness than any system yet based on, or
possible to be founded on, Theism, and that the lives of true Atheists
must be more virtuous—because more human—than those of the believers
in Deity, the humanity of the devout believer often finding itself
neutralised by a faith with which that humanity is necessarily in
constant collision. The devotee piling the faggots at the *auto da fé*
of a heretic, and that heretic his son, might notwithstanding be a good
father in every other respect (see Deuteronomy xiii, 6-10). Heresy,
in the eyes of the believer, is highest criminality, and outweighs all
claims of family or affection.

Atheism, properly understood, is no mere disbelief: is in no wise
a cold, barren negative; it is, on the contrary, a hearty, fruitful
affirmation of all truth, and involves the positive assertion of action
of highest humanity.

Let Atheism be fairly examined, and neither condemned—its defence
unheard—on the *ex parte* slanders of some of the professional
preachers of fashionable orthodoxy, whose courage is bold enough while
the pulpit protects the sermon, but whose valor becomes tempered with
discretion when a free platform is afforded and discussion claimed;
nor misjudged because it has been the custom to regard Atheism as so
unpopular as to render its advocacy impolitic. The best policy against
all prejudice is to firmly advocate the truth. The Atheist does not say
“There is no God” but he says: “I know not what you mean by God; I
am without idea of God; the word ‘God’ is to me a sound conveying no
clear or distinct affirmation. I do not deny God, because I cannot deny
that of which I have no conception, and the conception of which, by
its affirmer, is so imperfect that he is unable to define it to me.
If, however, ‘God’ is defined to mean an existence other than the
existence of which I am a mode, then I deny ‘God,’ and affirm that
it is impossible such ‘God’ can be. That is, I affirm one existence,
and deny that there can be more than one.” The Pantheist also affirms
one existence, and denies that there can be more than one; but the
distinction between the Pantheist and the Atheist is, that the Pantheist
affirms infinite attributes for existence, while the Atheist maintains
that attributes are the characteristics of mode—i.e., the diversities
enabling the conditioning in thought.

When the Theist affirms that his God is an existence other than, and
separate from, the so-called material universe, and when he invests
this separate, hypothetical existence with the several attributes of
personality, omniscience, omnipresence, omnipotence, eternity, infinity,
immutability, and perfect goodness, then the Atheist in reply says: “I
deny the existence of such a being;” and he is entitled to say this
because this Theistic definition is selfcontradictory, as well as
contradictory of every-day experience.

If you speak to the Atheist of God as creator, he answers that the
conception of creation is impossible. We are utterly unable to construe
it in thought as possible that the complement of existence has been
either increased or diminished, much less can we conceive an absolute
origination of substance. We cannot conceive either, on the one hand,
nothing becoming something, or on the other, something becoming nothing.
The words “creation” and “destruction” have no value except as
applied to phenomena. You may destroy a gold coin, but you have
only destroyed the condition, you have not affected the substance.
“Creation” and “destruction” denote change of phenomena, they
do not denote origin or cessation of substance. The Theist who speaks of
God creating the universe, must either suppose that Deity evolved it out
of himself, or that he produced it from nothing. But the Theist cannot
regard the universe as evolution of Deity, because this would identify
Universe and Deity, and be Pantheism rather than Theism. There would be
no distinction of substance—no creation. Nor can the Theist regard the
universe as created out of nothing, because Deity is, according to him,
necessarily eternal and infinite. God’s existence being eternal and
infinite, precludes the possibility of the conception of vacuum to be
filled by the universe if created. No one can even think of any point in
extent or duration and say: Here is the point of separation between the
creator and the created. It is not possible for the Theist to imagine
a beginning to the universe. It is not possible to conceive either an
absolute commencement, or an absolute termination of existence; that is,
it is impossible to conceive beginning, before which you have a period
when the universe has yet to be; or to conceive an end, after which the
universe, having been, no longer exists. The Atheist affirms that he
cognises to-day effects; that these are, at the same time, causes and
effects—causes to the effects they precede, effects to the causes they
follow. Cause is simply everything without which the effect would not
result, and with which it must result. Cause is the means to an end,
consummating itself in that end. Cause is the word we use to include all
that determines change. The Theist who argues for creation must assert
a point of time—that is, of duration, when the created did not yet
exist. At this point of time either something existed or nothing;
but something must have existed, for out of nothing nothing can come.
Something must have existed, because the point fixed upon is that of the
duration of something. This something must have been either finite or
infinite; if finite it could not have been God, and if the something
were infinite, then creation was impossible: it is impossible to add to
infinite existence.

If you leave the question of creation and deal with the government of
the universe, the difficulties of Theism are by no means lessened. The
existence of evil is then a terrible stumbling block to the Theist.
Pain, misery, crime, poverty, confront the advocate of eternal goodness,
and challenge with unanswerable potency his declaration of Deity as
all-good, all-wise, and all-powerful. A recent writer in the *Spectator*
admits that there is what it regards “as the most painful,
as it is often the most incurable, form of Atheism—the
Atheism arising from a sort of horror of the idea of an Omnipotent
Being permitting such a proportion of misery among the majority of his
creatures.” Evil is either caused by God, or exists independently; but
it cannot be caused by God, as in that case he would not be
all-good; nor can it exist hostilely, as in that case he would not
be all-powerful. If all-good he would desire to annihilate evil, and
continued evil contradicts either God’s desire, or God’s ability, to
prevent it. Evil must either have had a beginning or it must have been
eternal; but, according to the Theist, it cannot be eternal, because God
alone is eternal. Nor can it have had a beginning, for if it had it must
either have originated in God, or outside God; but, according to the
Theist, it cannot have originated in God for he is all-good, and out of
all-goodness evil cannot originate; nor can evil have originated outside
God, for, according to the Theist, God is infinite, and it is impossible
to go outside of or beyond infinity.

To the Atheist this question of evil assumes an entirely different
aspect. He declares that each evil is a result, but not a result from
God nor Devil. He affirms that conduct founded on knowledge of the
laws of existence may ameliorate each present form of evil, and, as our
knowledge increases, prevent its future recurrence.

Some declare that the belief in God is necessary as a check to crime.
They allege that the Atheist may commit murder, lie, or steal without
fear of any consequences. To try the actual value of this argument, it
is not unfair to ask: Do Theists ever steal? If yes, then in each such
theft the belief in God and his power to punish has been insufficient
as a preventive of the crime. Do Theists ever lie or murder? If yes,
the same remark has again force—Theism failing against the lesser as
against the greater crime. Those who use such an argument overlook that
all men seek happiness, though in very diverse fashions. Ignorant and
miseducated men often mistake the true path to happiness, and commit
crime in the endeavor to obtain it. Atheists hold that by teaching
mankind the real road to human happiness it is possible to keep them
from the bye-ways of criminality and error. Atheists would teach men to
be moral now, not because God offers as an inducement reward by-and-bye,
but because in the virtuous act itself immediate good is insured to the
doer and the circle surrounding him. Atheism would preserve man from
lying, stealing, murdering, not from fear of an eternal agony after
death, but because these crimes make this life itself a course of
misery.

While Theism, asserting God as the creator and governor of the universe,
hinders and checks man’s efforts by declaring God’s will to be the
sole directing and controlling power, Atheism, by declaring all events
to be in accordance with natural laws—that is, happening in certain
ascertainable sequences—stimulates man to discover the best conditions
of life, and offers him the most powerful inducements to morality. While
the Theist provides future happiness for a scoundrel repentant on his
death-bed, Atheism affirms present and certain happiness for the man who
does his best to live here so well as to have little cause for repenting
hereafter.

Theism declares that God dispenses health and inflicts disease, and
sickness and illness are regarded by the Theists as visitations from an
angered Deity, to be borne with meekness and content. Atheism declares
that physiological knowledge may preserve us from disease by preventing
us from infringing the law of health, and that sickness results not as
the ordinance of offended Deity, but from ill-ventilated dwellings and
workshops, bad and insufficient food, excessive toil, mental suffering,
exposure to inclement weather, and the like—all these finding root in
poverty, the chief source of crime and disease; that prayers and piety
afford no protection against fever, and that if the human being be kept
without food he will starve as quickly whether he be Theist or Atheist,
theology being no substitute for bread.

It is very important, in order that injustice may not be done to the
Theistic argument, that we should have—in lieu of a clear definition,
which it seems useless to ask for—the best possible clue to the
meaning intended to be conveyed by the word “God.” If it were
not that the word is an arbitrary term, maintained for the purpose of
influencing the ignorant, and the notions suggested by which are vague
and entirely contingent upon individual fancies, such a clue could
probably be most easily and satisfactorily obtained by tracing back the
word “God,” and ascertaining the sense in which it was used by the
uneducated worshippers who have gone before us, and collating this with
the more modern Theism, qualified as it is by the superior knowledge
of to-day. Dupuis says: “Le mot *Dieu* parait destiné à exprimer
l’idee de la force universelle et éternellement active qui imprime
le mouvement à tout dans la Nature, suivant les lois d’une harmonie
constante et admirable, qui se développe dans les diverses formes que
prend la matière organisée, qui se mèle à tout, anime tout, et
qui semble être une dans ses modifications infiniment variées, et
n’appartenir qu’à elle-même.” “The word God appears intended
to express the universal and eternally active force which endows all
nature with motion according to the laws of a constant and admirable
harmony; which develops itself in the diverse forms of organised matter,
which mingles with all, gives life to all; which seems to be one through
all its infinitely varied modifications, and inheres in itself alone.”

In the “Bon Sens” of Curé Meslier, it is asked: “Qu’est-ce
que Dieu?” and the answer is: “C’est un mot abstrait fait
pour désigner la force cachée de la nature; ou c’est un point
mathématique qui n’a ni longueur, ni largeur, ni pro-fondeur.”
“It is an abstract word coined to designate the hidden force of
nature; or is it a mathematical point having neither length, breadth,
nor depth.”

The orthodox fringe of the Theism of to-day is Hebraistic in its
origin—that is, it finds its root in the superstition and ignorance
of a petty and barbarous people nearly destitute of literature, poor in
language, and almost entirely wanting in high conceptions of humanity.
It might, as Judaism is the foundation of Christianity, be fairly
expected that the ancient Jewish records would aid us in our search
after the meaning to be attached to the word “God.” The most
prominent words in Hebrew rendered God or Lord in English, *Ieue*,
and *Aleim*. The first word Ieue, called by our orthodox Jehovah, is
equivalent to “that which exists,” and indeed embodies in itself the
only possible trinity in unity—i.e., past, present, and future. There
is nothing in this Hebrew word to help us to any such definition as is
required for the sustenance of modern Theism. The most we can make of it
by any stretch of imagination is equivalent to the declaration “I am,
I have been, I shall be.” The word *Ieue* is hardly ever spoken by the
religious Jews, who actually in reading substitute for it, Adonai, an
entirely different word. Dr. Wall notices the close resemblance in
sound between the word *Iehowa* or *Ieue*, or Jehovah and Jove. In fact
Jupiter and Ieue-pater (God the father) present still closer resemblance
in sound. Jove is also [--Greek--] whence the word Deus and our Deity.
The Greek mythology, far more ancient than that of the Hebrews, has
probably found for Christianity many other and more important features
of coincidence than that of a similarly sounding name. The word
[--Greek--] traced back, affords us no help beyond that it identifies
Deity with the universe. Plato says that the early Greeks thought that
the only Gods [--Greek--] were the sun, moon, earth, stars, and heaven.
The word Aleim, assists us still less in defining the word God, for
Parkhurst translates it as a plural noun signifying “the curser,”
deriving it from the verb *to curse*. Dr. Colenso has collected for us
a store of traditional meanings for the IAO of the Greek, and the
*Ieue* of the Hebrew, but though these are interesting to the student of
mythology, they give no help to the Theistic demonstrator. Finding that
philology aids us but little, we must endeavor to arrive at the meaning
of the word “God” by another rule. It is utterly impossible to fix
the period of the rise of Theism amongst any particular people; but
it is, notwithstanding, comparatively easy, if not to trace out the
development of Theistic ideas, at any rate to point to their probable
course of growth amongst all peoples.

Keightley, in his “Origin of Mythology,” says: “Supposing, for
the sake of hypothesis, a race of men in a state of total or partial
ignorance of Deity, their belief in many Gods may have thus commenced:
They saw around them various changes brought about by human agency, and
hence they knew the power of intelligence to produce effects. When they
beheld other and greater effects, they ascribed them to some unseen
being, similar but superior to man.” They associated particular events
with special unknown beings (Gods), to each of whom they ascribed either
a peculiarity of power, or a sphere of action not common to other Gods.
Thus, one was God of the sea, another God of war, another God of love,
another ruled the thunder and lightning; and thus through the various
then known elements of the universe, and the passions of humankind.

This mythology became modified with the commencement of human knowledge.
The ability to think has proved itself oppugnant to, and destructive
of, the reckless desire to worship, characteristic of semi-barbarism.
Science has razed altar after altar heretofore erected to the unknown
Gods, and has pulled down Deity after Deity from the pedestals on
which ignorance and superstition had erected them. The priest, who had
formerly spoken as the oracle of God, lost his sway just in proportion
as the scientific teacher succeeded in impressing mankind with a
knowledge of the facts around them. The ignorant, who had hitherto
listened unquestioning during centuries of abject submission to their
spiritual preceptors, at last commenced to search and examine for
themselves, and were guided by experience rather than by church
doctrine. To-day advancing intellect challenges the reserve guard of the
old armies of superstition, and compels a conflict in which humankind
must in the end have great gain by the forced enunciation of the truth.

From the word “God” the Theist derives no argument in his favor;
it teaches nothing, defines nothing, demonstrates nothing, explains
nothing. The Theist answers that this is no sufficient objection; that
there are many words which are in common use to which the same objection
applies. Even if this were true, it does not answer the Atheist’s
objection. Alleging a difficulty on the one side is not a removal of the
obstacle already pointed out on the other.

The Theist declares his God to be not only immutable, but also
infinitely intelligent, and says: “Matter is either essentially
intelligent or essentially non-intelligent; if matter were essentially
intelligent, no matter could be without intelligence; but matter cannot
be essentially intelligent, because some matter is not intelligent,
therefore matter is essentially non-intelligent; but there is
intelligence, therefore there must be a cause for the intelligence,
independent of matter—this must be an intelligent being—i.e.,
God.” The Atheist answers: I do not know what is meant, in the
mouth of the Theist, by “matter.” “Matter,” “nature,”
“substance,” “existence,” are words having the same
signification in the Atheist’s vocabulary. Lewes used “matter”
as the “symbol of all the known properties, statical and dynamical,
passive and active; i.e., subjectively, as feeling and change of
feeling, or objectively, as agent and action;” and Mill defined
“nature” as “the sum of all phenomena, together with the causes
which produce them, including not only all that happens, but all that is
capable of happening.” It is not certain that the Theist expresses
any very clear idea to himself when he uses the words “matter”
and “intelligence;” it is quite certain that he has not yet shown
himself capable of communicating this idea, and that any effort he
makes is couched in terms which are self-contradictory. Reason and
understanding are sometimes treated as separate faculties, yet it is not
unfair to presume that the Theist would include them both under the
word intelligence. Perception is the foundation of the intellect. The
perceptive ability differs in each animal; yet, in speaking of matter,
the Theist uses the word “intelligence” as though the same meaning
were to be understood in every case. The recollection of the perceptions
is the exercise of a different ability from the perceptive ability, and
occasionally varies disproportionately; thus, an individual may have
great perceptive abilities, and very little memory, or the reverse; yet
memory, as well as perception, is included in intelligence. So also
the comparing between two or more perceptions; the judging and the
reflecting; all these are subject to the same remarks, and all these
and other phases of the mind are included in the word intelligence. We
answer, then, that “God” (whatever that word may mean) cannot be
intelligent. He can never perceive; the act of perception results in
the obtaining a new idea, but if God be omniscient, his ideas have
been eternally the same. He has either been always, and always will be,
perceiving, or he has never perceived at all. But God cannot have
been always perceiving, because, if he had, he would always have been
obtaining fresh knowledge, in which case he must at some time have had
less knowledge than now: that is, he would have been less perfect: that
is, he would not have been God. He can never recollect nor forget;
he can never compare, reflect, nor judge. There cannot be perfect
intelligence without understanding; but following Coleridge,
“understanding is the faculty of judging according to sense.” The
faculty of whom? Of some person, judging according to that person’s
senses. But has “God” senses? Is there anything beyond “God” for
God to sensate? There cannot be perfect intelligence without reason. By
reason we mean that phase of the mind which avails itself of past and
present experience to predicate more or less accurately of possible
experience in the future. To God there can be neither past nor
future, therefore to him reason is impossible. There cannot be perfect
intelligence without will; but has God will? If God wills, the will of
the all-powerful must be irresistible; the will of the infinite must
exclude all other wills.

God can never perceive. Perception and sensation are identical. Every
sensation is pleasurable or painful. But God, if immutable, can neither
be pleased nor pained. Every fresh sensation involves a change in mental
and perhaps in physical condition. God, if immutable, cannot change.
Sensation is the source of all ideas, but it is only objects external
to the mind which can be sensated. If God be infinite there can be
no objects external to him, and therefore sensation must be to him
impossible. Yet without perception where is intelligence?

God cannot have memory nor reason—memory is of the past, reason for
the future, but to God immutable there can be no past, no future. The
words past, present, and future imply change: they assert progression of
duration. If God be immutable, to him change is impossible. Can you have
intelligence destitute of perception, memory, and reason? God cannot
have the faculty of judgment—judgment implies in the act of judging
a conjoining or disjoining of two or more thoughts, but this involves
change of mental condition. To God the immutable, change is impossible.
Can you have intelligence, yet no perception, no memory, no reason, no
judgment? God cannot think. The law of the thinkable is, that the thing
thought must be separated from the thing which is not thought. To think
otherwise would be to think of nothing—to have an impression with no
distinguishing mark, would be to have no impression. Yet this separation
implies change, and to God, immutable, change is impossible. In memory,
the thing remembered is distinguished from the thing temporarily or
permanently forgotten. Can God forget? Can you have intelligence
without thought? If the Theist replies to this, that he does not mean
by infinite intelligence as an attribute of Deity, an infinity of the
intelligence found in a finite degree in humankind, then he is bound to
explain, clearly and distinctly, what other “intelligence” he means;
and until this be done the foregoing statements require answer.

The Atheist does not regard “substance” as either essentially
intelligent or the reverse. Intelligence is the result of certain
conditions of existence. Burnished steel is bright—that is, brightness
is the characteristic of a certain condition of existence. Alter the
condition, and the characteristic of the condition no longer exists.
The only essential of substance is existence. Alter the wording of
the Theist’s objection:—Matter is either essentially bright, or
essentially non-bright. If matter were essentially bright, brightness
should be the essence of all matter; but matter cannot be essentially
bright, because some matter is not bright, therefore matter is
essentially non-bright; but there is brightness; therefore there must be
a cause for this brightness independent of matter—that is, there must
be an essentially bright being—i.e. God.

Another Theistic proposition is thus stated: “Every effect must have a
cause; the first cause universal must be eternal: ergo, the first cause
universal must be God.” This is equivalent to saying that “God” is
“first cause.” But what is to be understood by cause? Defined in the
absolute, the word has no real value. “Cause,” therefore, cannot
be eternal. What can be understood by “first cause?” To us the two
words convey no meaning greater than would be conveyed by the phrase
“round triangle.” Cause and effect are correlative terms—each
cause is the effect of some precedent; each effect the cause of its
consequent. It is impossible to conceive existence terminated by a
primal or initial cause. The “beginning,” as it is phrased, of the
universe is not thought out by the Theist, but conceded without thought.
To adopt the language of Montaigne; “Men make themselves believe that
they believe.” The so-called belief in Creation is nothing more than
the prostration of the intellect on the threshold of the unknown. We
can only cognise the ever-succeeding phenomena of existence as a line in
continuous and eternal evolution. This line has to us no beginning; we
trace it back into the misty regions of the past but a little way, and
however far we may be able to journey there is still the great beyond.
Then what is meant by “universal cause?” Spinoza gives the following
definition of cause, as used in its absolute signification: “By cause
of itself I understand that, the essence of which involves existence,
or that, the nature of which can only be considered as existent.” That
is, Spinoza treats “cause” absolute and “existence” as two words
having the same meaning. If this mode of defining the word be contested,
then it has no meaning other than its relative signification of a means
to an end. “Every effect must have a cause.” Every effect implies
the plurality of effects, and necessarily that each effect must be
finite; but how is it possible from finite effect to logically deduce a
universal—i.e., infinite cause?

There are two modes of argument presented by Theists, and by which,
separately or combined, they seek to demonstrate the being of a
God. These are familiarly known as the arguments *à priori and à
posteriori.*

The *à posteriori* argument has been popularised in England by Paley,
who has ably endeavored to hide the weakness of his demonstration under
an abundance of irrelevant illustrations. The reasoning of Paley is very
deficient in the essential points where it most needed strength. It is
utterly impossible to prove by it the eternity or infinity of Deity. As
an argument founded on analogy, the design argument, as the best, could
only entitle its propounder to infer the existence of a finite cause,
or rather of a multitude of finite causes. It ought not to be forgotten
that the illustrations of the eye, the watch, and the man, even if
admitted as instances of design, or rather of adaptation, are instances
of eyes, watches, and men, designed or adapted out of pre-existing
substance, by a being of the same kind of substance, and afford,
therefore, no demonstration in favor of a designer alleged to have
actually created substance out of nothing, and also alleged to have
created a substance entirely different from himself.

The illustrations of alleged adaptation or design in animal life in its
embryonic stages are thus dealt with by the late George Henry Lewes:
“What rational interpretation can be given to the succession of phases
each embryo is forced to pass through? None of these phases have any
adaptation to the future state of the animal, but are in positive
contradiction to it, or are simply purposeless; many of them have no
adaptation, even in its embryonic state. What does the fact imply? There
is not a single known organism which is not developed out of simpler
forms. Before it can attain the complex structure which distinguishes
it, there must be an evolution of forms which distinguish the structures
of organisms lower in the series. On the hypothesis of a plan which
pre-arranged the organic world, nothing could be more unworthy of a
supreme intelligence than this inability to construct an organism at
once, without making several tentative efforts, undoing to-day what
was so carefully done yesterday, and repeating for centuries the same
tentatives and the same corrections in the same succession. Do not let
us blink this consideration. There is a traditional phrase which is in
vogue amongst Anthropomorphists—a phrase which has become a sort of
argument—the ‘Great Architect.’ But if we are to admit the human
point of view, a glance at the facts of embryology must produce very
uncomfortable reflexions. For what shall we say to an architect who was
unable—or, being able, was obstinately unwilling—to erect a palace,
except by first using his materials in the shape of a hut, then pulling
them down and rebuilding them as a cottage, then adding storey to
storey, and room to room, not with any reference to the ultimate
purposes of a palace, but wholly with reference to the way in which
houses were constructed in ancient times? Would there be a chorus of
applause from the Institute of Architects, and favorable notices in
newspapers of this profound wisdom? Yet this is the sort of succession
on which organisms are constructed. The fact has long been familiar; how
has it been reconciled with infinite wisdom?”

The *à posteriori* argument can never demonstrate infinity for Deity.
Arguing from an effect finite in extent, the most it could afford would
be a cause sufficient for that effect, such cause being possibly finite
in extent and duration. Professor Flint in his late work in advocacy
of Theism concedes that “we cannot deduce the infinite from the
finite.” And as the argument does not demonstrate God’s infinity,
neither can it, for the same reason, make out his omniscience, as it is
clearly impossible to logically claim infinite wisdom for a God possibly
only finite. God’s omnipotence remains unproved for the same reason,
and because it is clearly absurd to argue that God exercises power
where he may not be. Nor can the *à posteriori* argument show God’s
absolute freedom, for as it does nothing more than seek to prove a
finite God, it is quite consistent with the argument that God’s
existence is limited and controlled in a thousand ways. Nor does this
argument show that God always existed; at the best, the proof is only
that some cause, enough for the effect, existed before it, but there
is no evidence that this cause differs from any other causes, which are
often as transient as the effect itself. And as it does not demonstrate
that God has always existed, neither does it demonstrate that he will
always exist, or even that he now exists. It is perfectly in accordance
with the argument, and with the analogy of cause and effect, that the
effect may remain after the cause had ceased to exist. Nor does the
argument from design demonstrate one God. It is quite consistent with
this argument that a separate cause existed for each effect, or mark of
design discovered, or that several causes contributed to some or one
of such effects. So that if the argument be true, it might result in a
multitude of petty Deities, limited in knowledge, extent, duration, and
power; and still worse, each one of this multitude of Gods may have had
a cause which would also be finite in extent and duration, and would
require another, and so on, until the design argument loses the reasoner
amongst an innumerable crowd of Deities, none of whom can have the
attributes claimed for God.

The design argument is defective as an argument from analogy, because it
seeks to prove a Creator God who designed, but does not explain whether
this God has been eternally designing, which would be absurd; or, if he
at some time commenced to design, what then induced him so to
commence? It is illogical, for it seeks to prove an immutable Deity, by
demonstrating a mutation on the part of Deity.

It is unnecessary to deal specially with each of the many writers
who have used from different stand-points the *à posteriori* form
of argument in order to prove the existence of Deity. The objections
already stated apply to the whole class; and, although probably each
illustration used by the Theistic advocate is capable of an elucidation
entirely at variance with his argument, the main features of objection
are the same. The argument *à posteriori* is a method of proof in which
the premises are composed of some position of existing facts, and the
conclusion asserts a position antecedent to those facts. The argument
is from given effects to their causes. It is one form of this argument
which asserts that a man has a moral nature, and from this seeks to
deduce the existence of a moral governor. This form has the disadvantage
that its premises are illusory. In alleging a moral nature for man, the
Theist overlooks the fact that the moral nature of man differs somewhat
in each individual, differs considerably in each nation, and differs
entirely in some peoples. It is dependent on organisation and education;
these are influenced by climate, food, and mode of life. If the argument
from man’s nature could demonstrate anything, it would prove a
murdering God for the murderer, a lascivious God for the licentious
man, a dishonest God for the thief, and so through the various phases
of human inclination. The *à priori* arguments are methods of proof
in which the matter of the premises exists in the order of conception
antecedently to that of the conclusion. The argument is from cause to
effect. Amongst the prominent Theistic advocates relying upon the
*a priori* argument in England are Dr. Samuel Clarke, the Rev. Moses
Lowman, and William Gillespie.

An important contribution to Theistic literature has been the
publication of the Baird lectures on Theism. The lectures are by
Professor Flint, who asks: “Have we sufficient evidence for thinking
that there is a self-existent, eternal being, infinite in power and
wisdom, and perfect in holiness and goodness, the Maker of heaven and
earth?”

“Theism,” he affirms, “is the doctrine that the universe owes its
existence, and continuance in existence, to the reason and will of a
self-existent Being, who is infinitely powerful, wise, and good. It
is the doctrine that nature has a Creator and Preserver, the nations
a Governor, men a heavenly Father and Judge.” But he concedes that
“Theism is very far from co-extensive with religion. Religion is
spread over the whole earth; Theism only over a comparatively small
portion of it. There are but three Theistic religions—the Mosaic, the
Christian, and the Muhammadan. They are connected historically in the
closest manner—the idea of God having been transmitted to the two
latter, and not independently originated by them. All other religions
are Polytheistic or Pantheistic, or both together. Among those who have
been educated in any of these heathen religions, only a few minds of
rare penetration and power have been able to rise by their own exertions
to a consistent Theistic belief. The God of all those among us who
believe in God, even of those who reject Christianity, who reject all
revelation, is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. From these ancient
Jewish fathers the knowledge of him has historically descended through
an unbroken succession of generations to us. We have inherited it from
them. If it had not thus come down to us, if we had not been born into
a society pervaded by it, there is no reason to suppose that we should
have found it out for ourselves, and still less that we should merely
have required to open our eyes in order to see it.”

If “Theism is the doctrine that the universe owes its existence to
the reason and will of a self-existing being who is infinitely
powerful, wise, and good,” then it is a doctrine which involves many
difficulties and absurdities. It assumes that the universe has not
always existed. The new existence added when the universe was originated
was either an improvement or a deterioration on what had always existed;
or it was in all respects precisely identical with what had therefore
always existed. In the first, if the new universe was an improvement,
then the previously self-existent being could not have been infinitely
good. If the universe was a deterioration, then the creator could have
scarcely been all-wise, or he could not have been all-powerful. If the
universe was in all respects precisely identical with the self-existent
being, then it must have been infinitely powerful, wise and good, and
must have been self-existent.

Any of the alternatives is fatal to Theism. Again, if the universe owes
its existence to God’s reason and will, God must, prior to creation,
have thought upon the matter until he ultimately determined to create;
but, if the creation were wise and good, it would never have been
delayed while the infinitely wise and good reasoned about it, and, if
the creation were not wise and good, the infinitely wise and good would
never have commenced it. Either God willed without motive, or he
was influenced; if he reasoned, there was—prior to the definite
willing—a period of doubt or suspended judgment, all of which is
inconsistent with the attributes claimed for deity by Professor Flint.
It is hard to understand how whole nations can have been left by their
infinitely powerful, wise, and good governor—how many men can have
been left by their infinitely powerful, wise, and good father—without
any knowledge of himself. Yet this must be so if, as Professor Flint
conceives, Theism is only spread over a comparatively small portion of
the earth. The moral effect of Christian and Muhammadan Theism on the
nations influenced, was well shown in the recent Russo-Turkish War.

Every Theist must admit that if a God exists, he could have so convinced
all men of the fact of his existence that doubt, disagreement, or
disbelief would be impossible. If he could not do this, he would not
be omnipotent, or he would not be omniscient—that is, he would not be
God. Every Theist must also agree that if a God exists, he would
wish all men to have such a clear consciousness of his existence and
attributes, that doubt, disagreement, or disbelief on this subject would
be impossible. And this, if for no other reason, because that out of
doubts and disagreements on religion have too often resulted centuries
of persecution, strife, and misery, which a good God would desire to
prevent. If God would not desire this, then he is not all-good, that
is, he is not God. But as many men have doubts, as a large majority
of mankind have disagreements, and as some men have disbeliefs as to
God’s existence and attributes, it must follow that God does not
exist, or that he is not all-wise, or that he is not all-powerful, or
that he is not all-good.

Many Theists rely on the intuitional argument. It is, perhaps, best to
allow the Baird Lecturer to reply to these:—“Man, say some, knows
God by immediate intuition, he needs no argument for his existence,
because he perceives Him directly—face to face—without any medium.
It is easy to assert this but obviously the assertion is the merest
dogmatism. Not one man in a thousand who understands what he is
affirming will dare to claim to have an immediate vision of God, and
nothing can be more likely than that the man who makes such a claim is
self-deluded.” And Professor Flint urges that: “What seem intuitions
are often really inferences, and not unfrequently erroneous inferences;
what seem the immediate dictates of pure reason, or the direct and
unclouded perceptions of a special spiritual faculty, may be the
conceits of fancy, or the products of habits and association, or the
reflexions of strong feeling. A man must prove to himself, and he must
prove to others, that what he takes to be an intuition, is an intuition.
Is that proof in this case likely to be easier or more conclusive than
the proof of the Divine existence? The so-called immediate perception
of God must be shown to be a perception and to be immediate; it must be
vindicated and verified; and how this is to be done, especially if there
be no other reasons for believing in God than itself, it is difficult
to conceive. The history of religion, which is what ought to yield
the clearest confirmation of the alleged intuition, appears to be from
beginning to end a conspicuous contradiction of it. If all men have the
spiritual power of directly beholding their Creator—have an immediate
vision of God—how happens it that whole nations believe in the most
absurd and monstrous Gods? That millions of men are ignorant whether
there be one God or thousands?” And still more strongly he adds:
“The opinion that man has an intuition or immediate perception of God
is untenable; the opinion that he has an immediate feeling of God is
absurd.”

Every child is born into the world an Atheist, and if he grows into a
Theist, his Deity differs with the country in which the believer may
happen to be born, or the people amongst whom he may happen to be
educated. The belief is the result of education or organisation. This is
practically conceded by Professor Flint, where he speaks of the God-idea
as transmitted from the Jews, and says: “We have inherited it from
them. If it had not come down to us, if we had not been born into a
society pervaded by it, there is no reason to suppose that we should
have found it out for ourselves.” And further, he maintains that a
child is born “into blank ignorance, and, if left entirely to itself,
would, probably, never find out as much religious truth as the most
ignorant of parents can teach it.” Religious belief is powerful
in proportion to the want of scientific knowledge on the part of the
believer. The more ignorant the more credulous. In the mind of the
Theist “God” is equivalent to the sphere of the unknown; by the use
of the word he answers, without thought, problems which might otherwise
obtain scientific solution. The more ignorant the Theist, the more
numerous his Gods. Belief in God is not a faith founded on reason.
Theism is worse than illogical; its teachings are not only without
utility, but of itself it has nothing to teach. Separated from
Christianity with its almost innumerable sects, from Muhammadanism with
its numerous divisions, and separated also from every other preached
system, Theism is a will-o’-the-wisp, without reality. Apart from
orthodoxy, Theism is the veriest dreamform, without substance or
coherence.

What does Christian Theism teach? That the first man, made perfect by
the all-powerful, all-wise, all-good God, was nevertheless imperfect,
and by his imperfection brought misery into the world, where the
all-good God must have intended misery should never come; that this God
made men to share this misery—men whose fault was their being what
he made them; that this God begets a son, who is nevertheless his
unbegotten self, and that by belief in the birth of God’s eternal
son, and in the death of the undying who died as sacrifice to God’s
vengeance, men may escape the consequences of the first man’s error.
Christian Theism declares that belief alone can save man, and yet
recognises the fact that man’s belief results from teaching, by
establishing missionary societies to spread the faith. Christian Theism
teaches that God, though no respecter of persons, selected as his
favorite one nation in preference to all others; that man can do no
good of himself or without God’s aid, but yet that each man has a
free will; that God is all-powerful, but that few go to heaven, and the
majority to hell; that all are to love God, who has predestined from
eternity that by far the largest number of human beings are to be
burning in hell for ever. Yet the advocates for Theism venture to
upbraid those who argue against such a faith.

Either Theism is true or false. If true, discussion must help to spread
its influence; if false, the sooner it ceases to influence human conduct
the better for human kind. This Plea for Atheism is put forth as a
challenge to Theists to do battle for their cause, and in the hope that,
the strugglers being sincere, truth may give laurels to the victor and
the vanquished: laurels to the victor, in that he has upheld the truth;
laurels which should be even more welcome to the vanquished, whose
defeat crowns him with a truth he knew not of before.


APPENDIX

A few years ago a Nonconformist minister invited me to debate the
question, “Is Atheism the True Doctrine of the Universe?” and the
following was in substance my opening statement of the argument, which
for some reason, although many letters passed, was never replied to by
my reverend opponent.

“By Atheism I mean the affirmation of one existence, of which
existence I know only mode; each mode being distinguished in thought
by its qualities. This affirmation is a positive, not a negative,
affirmation, and is properly describable as Atheism because it does
not include in it any possibility of *Theos*. It is, being without
God, distinctly an Atheistic affirmation. This Atheism affirms that
the Atheist only knows qualities, and only knows these qualities as
the characteristics of modes. By ‘existence’ I mean the totality
of phenomena and all that has been, is, or may be necessary for the
happening of any and every phenomenon. By ‘mode’ I mean each
cognised condition (phenomenon or aggregation of phenomena).
By ‘quality’ I mean that characteristic, or each of those
characteristics, by which in thought I distinguish that which I think.
The word ‘universe’ is with me an equivalent for ‘existence.’

“Either Atheism or Theism must be the true doctrine of the Universe.
I assume here that no other theory is thinkable. Theism is either
Pantheism, Polytheism, or Monotheism. There is, I submit, no other
conceivable category. Pantheism affirms one existence, but declares that
some qualities are infinite, e.g. that existence is intelligent. Atheism
only affirms qualities for phenomena. We know each phenomenon by its
qualities; we know no qualities except as qualities of some phenomenon.
By infinite I mean illimitable. Phenomena are, of course, finite. By
intelligent I mean able to think. Polytheism affirms several Theistic
existences—this affirmation being nearly self-contradictory—and also
usually affirms at least one non-theistic existence. Monotheism affirms
at least two existences: that is, the Theos and that which the Theos
has created and rules. Atheism denies alike the reasonableness of
Polytheism, Pantheism, and Monotheism. Any affirmation of more than
one existence is on the face of the affirmation an absolute
self-contradiction, if infinity be pretended for either of the
existences affirmed. The word ‘Theos’ or ‘God’ has for me no
meaning. I am obliged, therefore, to try to collect its meaning as
expressed by Theists, who, however, do not seem to me to be either clear
or agreed as to the words by which their Theism may be best expressed.
For the purpose of this argument I take Monotheism to be the doctrine
‘that the universe owes its existence and continuance in existence
to the wisdom and will of a supreme, self-existent, eternal, infinite,
omnipotent, omniscient, righteous, and benevolent personal being, who is
distinct from and independent of what he has created.’ By wisdom and
will I mean that which I should mean using the same words of any animal
able to perceive, remember, reflect, judge, and determine, and active
in that ability or those abilities. By supreme I mean highest in any
relation of comparison. By self-existent I mean that the conception
of which, if it be conceivable, does not involve the conception of
antecedent or consequent. By eternal and infinite I mean illimitable in
duration and extent. By ‘omnipotent’ I mean supreme in power over
everything. By omniscient, knowing everything. By ‘righteous and
benevolent’ I mean that which the best educated opinion would mean
when applying those words to human beings. This doctrine of Monotheism
appears to me to be flatly contradicted by the phenomena we know. It
is inconsistent with that observed uniformity of happening usually
described as law of nature. By law of nature I mean observed order of
event. The word ‘nature’ is another equivalent for the word universe
or existence. By uniformity of happening I mean that, given certain
conditions, certain results always ensue—vary the conditions, the
results vary. I do not attack specially either the Polytheistic,
Pantheistic, or Monotheistic presentments of Theism. To me any pretence
of Theism seems impossible if Monism be conceded, and, therefore, at
present, I rest content in affirming one existence. If Monism be true,
and Atheism be Monism, then Atheism is necessarily the true theory of
the universe. I submit that ‘there cannot be more than one ultimate
explanation’ of the universe. That any ‘tracing back to two or
more’ existences is illogical, and that as it is only by ‘reaching
unity’ that we can have a reasonable conclusion, it is necessary
‘that every form of Dualism should be rejected as a theory of the
universe.’ If every form of Dualism be rejected, Monism, i.e. Atheism,
alone remains, and is therefore the true and only doctrine of the
universe.”

Speaking of the prevalence of what he describes as “a form of
agnosticism,” the editor of the *Spectator* writes: “We think we see
signs of a disposition to declare that the great problem is insoluble,
that whatever rules, be it a mind or only a force, he or it does not
intend the truth to be known, if there is a truth, and to go on, both in
action and speculation, as if the problem had no existence. That is
the condition of mind, we know, of many of the cultivated who are not
sceptics, nor doubters, nor inquirers, but who think they are as certain
of their point as they are that the circle will not be squared. They
are, they think, in presence of a recurring decimal, and they are not
going to spend life in the effort to resolve it. If no God exists, they
will save their time; and if he does exist, he must have set up the
impenetrable wall. A distinct belief of that kind, not a vague, pulpy
impression, but a formulated belief, exists, we know, in the
most unsuspected places, its holders not unfrequently professing
Christianity, as at all events the best of the illusions; and it has
sunk very far down in the ladder of society. We find it catch classes
which have suddenly become aware that there is a serious doubt afloat,
and have caught something of its extent and force, till they fancy they
have in the doubt a revelation as certainly true as they once thought
the old certainty.” Surely an active, honest Atheism is to be
preferred to the state of mind described in the latter part of the
passage we have just quoted.


.. clearpage::

A FEW WORDS ABOUT THE DEVIL
===========================

.. dropcap:: D DEALING


DEALING with the Devil has been a perilous experiment. In 1790, an
unfortunate named André Dubuisson, was confined in the Bastille,
charged with raising the Devil. In the reign of Charles I, Thomas
Browne, yeoman, was indicted at Middlesex Sessions, for that he did
“wickedly, diabolically, and feloniously make an agreement with an
evil and impious spirit, that he, the same Thomas Browne, would within
ten days after his death, give his soul to the same impious and evil
spirit,” for the purpose of having a clear income of £2,000 a year.
Thomas was found not guilty. In 1682, three persons were hanged at
Exeter, and in 1712, five others were hanged at Northampton, for
witchcraft and trafficking with the Devil, who has been represented as a
black-visaged, sulphurous-constitutioned individual, horned like an old
goat, with satyr-like legs, a tail of unpleasant length, and a reckless
disposition to buy people presumably his without purchase. I intend to
treat the subject entirely from a Biblical point of view; the Christian
Devil being a Bible institution. I say the Christian Devil, because
other religions also have their Devils, and it is well to prevent
confusion. I frankly admit that none of these religions have a Devil so
devilish as that of the Christian.

I am unable to say certainly whether I am writing about a singular
Devil or a plurality of Devils. In many texts “Devils” are mentioned
(Leviticus xvii, 7; Mark i, 34, &c.) recognising a plurality; in others
“the Devil” (Luke iv, 2), as if there was but one. Seven Devils went
out of Mary called Magdalene (Luke viii, 2). The Rev. P. Hains, a Wigan
church clergyman, tells me that where “Devils” are to be found in
the Gospels it is mistranslated and should be “Demons”—these being
apparently an inferior sort of Devils. Hershon (Talmudical Commentary
on Genesis, p. 299), quotes from Rabbi Yochanan, “There were three
hundred different species of male demons in Sichin, but what the female
demon is like I know not;” and from Rava, “If anyone wishes to see
the demons themselves let him burn and reduce to ashes the offspring of
a first-born black cat; let him put a little of it in his eyes and he
will see them.” Assuming that either there is one Devil, more than
one, or less than one, and having thus cleared away mere numerical
difficulties, we will proceed to give the Devil his due. The word
Satan occurs 1 Samuel xxix, 4, and is there translated “adversary,”
(Cahen) “obstacle,” see also I Kings xi, 14. Satan appears either to
have been a child of God or a most intimate acquaintance of the family,
for, on “a day when the children of God came to present themselves
before the Lord, Satan came also amongst them,” (Job I, 6) and no
surprise or disapprobation is manifested at his presence. Some trace in
this the Persian demonology where the good spirits surround Ormuzd and
where Ahriman is the spirit of evil. The conversation in the Book of Job
between God and the Devil has a value proportioned to the rarity of the
scene and to the high characters of the personages concerned, despite
the infidel criticism of Martin Luther, who condemns the Book of Job as
“a sheer *argumentum fabula*.” A Christian ought to be surprised
to find “God omniscient” putting to Satan the query: Whence comest
thou? for he cannot suppose God, the all-wise, ignorant upon the
subject. Satan’s reply: “From going to and fro in the earth, and
from going up and down it,” increases our surprise and augments our
astonishment. The true believer should be astonished to find from his
Bible that Satan could have gone to and fro in the earth, and walked
up and down it, and yet not have met God, if omnipresent, at least
occasionally, during his journeying. It is not easy to conceive
omnipresence absent, even temporarily, from every spot where the Devil
promenaded. The Lord makes no comment on Satan’s reply, but says:
“Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him
in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God and
escheweth evil?” It seems extraordinary that God should wish to
have the Devil’s judgment on the only good man then living: the more
extraordinary, as God, the all-wise, knew Satan’s opinion without
asking it, and God, the immutable, would not be influenced by the
expression of the Devil’s views. Satan’s answer is: “Doth Job fear
God for naught? Hast thou not made an hedge about him, and about all
that he hath on every side? Thou hast blest the work of his hand, and
his substance is increased in the land; but put forth thine hand now and
touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face.” God’s
reply to this audacious declaration is: “Behold, all that he hath is
in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand.” And this
was Job’s reward for being a perfect and upright man, one that feared
God and eschewed evil. He was not actually sent to the Devil, but to
the Devil was given power over all that he had. Job lost all without
repining, sons, daughters, oxen, asses, camels, and sheep, all
destroyed, and yet “Job sinned not.” Divines urge that this is
a beautiful picture of patience and contentment under wrong and
misfortune. But it is neither good to submit patiently to wrong, nor to
rest contented under misfortune. It is better to resist wrong; wiser to
carefully investigate the causes of wrong and misfortune, with a view to
their removal. Contentment under wrong is a crime; voluntary submission
under oppression is no virtue.

“Again, there was a day when the sons of God came to present
themselves before the Lord [as if God’s children could ever be absent
from him], and Satan came also among them to present himself before the
Lord. And the Lord [again] said unto Satan, From whence comest thou? And
Satan answered the Lord and said, From going to and fro in the earth,
and from walking up and down in it. And the Lord said unto Satan, Hast
thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the
earth? a perfect and upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth
evil? and still he holdeth fast his integrity, ALTHOUGH THOU MOVEDST ME
AGAINST HIM TO DESTROY HIM WITHOUT CAUSE.” Can God be moved against a
man to destroy him without a cause? If so, God is neither immutable nor
all-wise. Yet the Bible puts into God’s mouth the terrible admission
that the Devil had moved God against Job to destroy him without cause.
If true, it destroys alike God’s goodness and his wisdom.

But Satan answered the Lord and said: “Skin for skin, yea, all that a
man hath will he give for his life; put forth thine hand now and touch
his bone and his flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face.”

Does the Lord now drive the Devil from his presence? Is there any
expression of wrath or indignation against this tempter? “The Lord
said unto Satan: Behold, he is in thine hand, but save his life.”
And Job, being better than everybody else, finds himself smitten in
consequence with sore boils from the sole of his foot unto his crown.
The ways of the Lord are not as our ways, or this would seem the reverse
of an encouragement to virtue.

In the account of the numbering by David, in one place “God,” and
in another “Satan,” occurs (1 Chron. xxi,1; 2 Sam. xxiv, 1), and to
each the same act of “moving” or “provoking” David to number his
people is attributed. There may be in this more harmony than ordinary
men recognise, for one erudite Bible commentator tells us, speaking
of the Hebrew word Azazel: “This terrible and venerable name of God,
through the pens of Biblical glossers, has been *a devil, a mountain,
a wilderness, and a he-goat.*” [13]_ Well may incomprehensibility be an
attribute of deity when, even to holy and reverend fathers, God has been
sometimes undistinguishable from a he-goat or a Devil. Moncure D. Conway
writes: “There can be little question that the Hebrews, from whom the
Calvinist inherited his deity, had no Devil in their mythology, because
the jealous and vindictive Jehovah was quite equal to any work of that
kind—as the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, bringing plagues upon
the land, or deceiving a prophet and then destroying him for his false
prophecies.” [14]_

.. [13] G.R. Gliddon’s extract from Land’s “Sacra Scritura,” chap, iii, sec. 1. “Demonology and Devil-lore,” vol. i, p. 11.

.. [14] “Christian Records,” by the Rev. Dr. Giles, p. 144.


God is a spirit. Jesus is God. Jesus was led up of the Spirit to be
tempted of the Devil. All these propositions are equally credible.

On the temptation of Jesus by the Devil, the Rev. Dr. Giles writes:
“That the Devil should appear personally *to the Son of God is
certainly not more wonderful* than that he should, in a more remote age,
have appeared *among* the Sons of God, in the presence of God himself,
to tempt and torment the righteous Job. But that Satan should carry
Jesus, bodily and literally, through the air—first to the top of
a high mountain, and then to the topmost pinnacle of the temple—is
wholly inadmissible; it is an insult to our understanding.” [15]_ It is
pleasant to find clergymen zealously repudiating their own creeds.

.. [15] “Pilgrim’s Progress from Methodism to Christianity.”

I am not prepared to speak strongly as to the color of the Devil. White
men paint him black; black men paint him white. He can scarcely be
colorless, as otherwise the Evangelists would have labored under
considerable difficulties in witnessing the casting out of the Devil
from the man in the synagogue (Luke iv, 35, 36).This Devil is described
as an unclean Devil. The Devils were subject to the 70 disciples whom
Jesus appointed to preach (Luke x, 17), and they are not unbelievers:
one text tells us that they believe and tremble (James ii, 19). It is
a fact of some poor Devils that the more they believe the more they
tremble. According to another text the Devil goeth about like a roaring
lion, seeking whom he may devour (1 Peter v, 8), though the Devil’s
“doctrines” presumably include vegetarianism (1 Timothy iv, 1, 3).
I am not sure what drinks devils incline to, though it is distinguished
from the wine of the communion (1 Corinthians x, 21). Devils should be a
sort of eternal salamanders, for there is everlasting fire prepared
for the Devil and his angels (Matt. xxv, 41); and there is a lake of
brimstone and fire, into which the Devil was cast (Rev. xx, 10). The
Devil has, at least upon one occasion, figured as a controversialist.
For we learn that he disputed with the arch-angel Michael, contending
about the body of Moses (Jude 9); in these degenerate days of
personality in debate, it is pleasant to know that the religious
champion was very civil towards his Satanic opponent. The Devil was
imprisoned for 1,000 years in a bottomless pit (Rev. xx, 2). If a pit
had no bottom, it seems but little confinement to shut the top. But,
with faith and prayer even a good foundation may be obtained for a
bottomless pit. The writer of Revelation, adopting the view of some
Hebrew writers, speaks of “the dragon, that old serpent which is the
devil and Satan” and following this, it is urged that the Devil was
the serpent of Genesis—that is, that it was really Satan who, in this
guise, tempted Eve. There is this difficulty in the matter—the Devil
is a liar (John viii, 44); but in the interview with Eve the serpent
seems to have confined himself to the strict truth (Gen. iii, 4, 5, 22).
There is, in fact, no point of resemblance—no horns, no hoof, nothing
except a tail.

Kalisch notes that “the Egyptians represented the eternal spirit
Kneph, the author of all good, under the mythic form” of the serpent,
but they employed the same symbol “for Typhon, the author of all moral
and physical evil, and in the Egyptian symbolical alphabet, the serpent
represents subtlety and cunning, lust, and sensual pleasure.”

The Old Testament speaks a little of the Devils, sometimes of Satan, but
never of “The Devil;” yet Matthew ushers him in, in the temptation
scene, without introduction, and as if he were an old acquaintance. I
do not remember reading in the Old Testament, anything about the lake
of brimstone and fire. Although Malachi iv, 1, speaks of the day “that
shall burn as an oven when the wicked shall be burned up.” This
feature of faith was reserved for the warmth of Christian love to
develop from some of the Talmudical writers. The Rev. C. Boutell in his
Bible dictionary says, that, “it is at the least unfortunate that
the word ‘hell’ should have been used as if the translation of the
Hebrew ‘sheol.’” Zechariah, in a vision, saw “Joshua, the High
Priest, standing before the angel of the Lord, and Satan standing at his
right hand to resist him” (Zach-ariah iii, 1). Why the Devil wanted to
resist Joshua is not clear; but, as Joshua’s garments were in a very
filthy state, it may be that he was preaching to the priest the virtues
of cleanliness. Jesus said that one of the twelve disciples was a Devil
(John vi, 70). You are told to resist the devil and he will flee from
you (James iv, 7). If this be true, he is a cowardly Devil, and thus
does not agree quite with Milton’s picture of his grand defiance,
almost heroism. But then Milton was a poet, and true religion has but
little poetry in it.

Jeroboam, one of the Jewish monarchs, ordained priests for the devils (2
Chron. ix, 15). In the time of Jesus, Satan must, when not in the
body of some mad, deaf, dumb, blind, or paralytic person, have been
occasionally in heaven; for Jesus, on one occasion, told his disciples
that he saw Satan, as lightning, fall from heaven (Luke x, 18). Jesus
told Simon Peter that Satan desired to have him, that he might sift him
as wheat (Luke xxii, 31); perhaps Jesus was chafing his disciple. Paul,
the apostle, seems to have looked on the Devil much as some bigots look
on the police, for Paul delivered Hymeneus and Alexander unto Satan,
that they might learn not to blaspheme (1 Timothy i, 20).

Revivalists are much indebted for their evanescent successes to hell
and the Devil. Thomas English, a fair specimen of those very noisy
and active preachers who do so much in promoting revivals, spoke of
“dwelling with devouring fire, bearing everlasting burning, roasting
on the Devil’s spit, broiling on his gridiron, being pitched about
with his fork, drinking the liquid fire, breathing the brimstone fumes,
drowning in a red-hot sea, lying on fiery beds.” [16]_ The vulgar
tirades of Reginald Radcliffe, Richard Weaver, and C. H. Spurgeon,
will serve to evidence that the above quotation is no exaggeration. In
London, before crowded audiences, Mr. Weaver, without originality, and
with only the merit of copied coarseness, has called upon the Lord to
“shake the ungodly for five minutes over the mouth of hell.” Mr.
Spurgeon has drawn pictures of hell which, if true and revealed to him
by God, would be most disgustingly frightful, and which being but the
creation of his own morbid fancies, induce a feeling of contempt as
well as disgust for the teacher, who uses such horrible descriptions to
affright his weaker hearers.

.. [16] Sharpe’s “History of Egypt,” p. 196.

Calmet says that “By collecting all the passages where Satan (or the
Devil) is mentioned, it may be observed, that he fell from Heaven, with
all his company; that God cast him down from thence for the punishment
of his pride; and by his envy and malice, death, and all other evils
came into the world; that by the permission of God he exercises a sort
of government in the world over his subordinates, over apostate angels
like himself; that God makes use of him to prove good men, and to
chastise bad ones; that he is a lying spirit in the mouth of false
prophets, seducers, and heretics; that it is he, or some of his, that
torment, obsess, or possess men, that inspire them with evil designs,
as did *David*, when he suggested to him to number his people, and to
*Judas* to betray *Jesus Christ*, and to Ananias and Sapphira to conceal
the price of their field. That he roves about full of rage, like a
roaring lion, to tempt, to betray, to destroy, and to involve us in
guilt and wickedness.

“That his power and malice are restricted within certain limits,
and controlled by the will of God; that he sometimes appears to men to
seduce them; that he can transform himself into an angel of light;
that he sometimes assumes the form of a spectre, as he appeared to the
Egyptians while they were involved in darkness in the days of Moses;
that he creates several diseases to men; that he chiefly presides over
death, and bears aways the souls of the wicked to hell; that at present
he is confined to Hell, as in a prison, but that he will be unbound and
set at liberty in the year of *Anti-Christ*; that hell-fire is prepared
for him and his; that he is to be judged at the last day. But I cannot
perceive very clearly from scripture, that he torments the souls of the
wicked in hell, as we generally believe.”

In his interesting volume on Elizabethan demonology Mr. Spalding urges
that “the empire of the supernatural must obviously be most extended
where civilization is the least advanced,” and he gives three reasons
for the belief in devils—1. “The apparent incapacity of the majority
of mankind to accept a purely monotheistic creed.” 2. “The division
of spirits into hostile camps, good and evil.” 3. “The tendency of
all theological systems to absorb into themselves the deities extraneous
to themselves, not as gods, but as inferior or even evil spirits.”

Even if I were a theist I should refuse to see in God a being omniscient
and omnipotent, who puts us into this world without our volition, leaves
us to struggle through it unequally pitted against an almost omnipotent
and super-subtle Devil; and who, if we fail, finally drops us out of
this world into Hell-fire, where a legion of inferior devils finds
constant and never-ending employment in inventing fresh tortures for us;
our crime being, that we have not succeeded where success was rendered
impossible. No high thinkings are developed by the doctrine of Devils
and damnation. If a potent faith, it degrades to imbecility alike the
teacher and the taught, by its abhorrent mercilessness; and if mere form
instead of a faith, then is the Devil doctrine a misleading sham.


.. clearpage::

WERE ADAM AND EVE OUR FIRST PARENTS?
====================================

.. dropcap:: T THIS


THIS question, Were Adam and Eve our first parents? is indeed one of
vital importance. A negative answer is a denial of the whole Christian
scheme. The Christian theory is that Adam, the common father of the
whole human race, sinned, and by his sin dragged down all his posterity
to a state from which redemption was needed, and that Jesus is, and
was, the Redeemer, by whom all mankind are, and were, saved from the
consequences of the fall of Adam. If Adam therefore be not the first
man, if it is not to Adam the various races of mankind are indebted for
their origin, then the whole hypothesis of fall and redemption fails.

It is impossible in the space of this pamphlet to give any statement and
analysis of the various hypotheses as to the origin of the human
race; that I have done at some length in my volume on “Genesis:
its Authorship and Authenticity.” Personally I incline to favor the
doctrine of a plurality of sources for the various types of the human
race. That wherever the conditions for life have been, there also has
been the degree of life resultant on those conditions. My purpose here
is not to demonstrate the correctness of my own thinking, but rather to
illustrate the incorrectness of the Genesaical teaching. Were Adam and
Eve our first parents? On the one hand, an affirmative answer can be
obtained from the Bible, which, though in Genesis v, 2, using Adam as
a race-name, specifically asserts (ii, 22) Adam and Eve to be the first
man and woman made by God, and in the authorised version fixes the date
of their making about 6,000 years, little more or less, from the present
time. On the other hand, science emphatically declares man to have
existed on the earth for a far more extended period, affirms that as
far as we can trace man historically, we find him in isolated groups,
diverse in type, till we lose him in the ante-historic period; and with
nearly equal distinctness denies that the various existing races find
their common parentage in one pair. It is only on the first point that
I attack the Bible chronology of man’s existence. I am aware that
calculations based upon the authorised version of the Old Testament
Scriptures are open to objection, and that while from the Hebrew
1,656 years represent the period from Adam to the Deluge generally
acknowledged, the Samaritan Pentateuch only yields for the same period
1,307 years, while the Septuagint version furnishes 2,242 years; but a
most erudite Egyptologist, states a fatal objection to the Septuagint
chronology—i.e., that it makes Methuselah outlive the Flood. [17]_ The
Deluge occurred, according to the Septuagint, in the year of the world
2,242, and by adding up the generations previous to his (Methuselah’s)
birth—Adam, 230; Seth, 205; Enos, 190; Cainan, 170; Mahaleel,
165; Jared, 162; Enoch, 165; = 1,287—Methuselah was born in the year
of the world 1287. He lived 969 years, and therefore died in 2256. But
this is fourteen years after the Deluge.

.. [17] “Harmony of the Four Evangelists, and Harmony of the Old Testament.”

The Rev. Dr. Lightfoot, who wrote about 1644, fixes the month of
creation at September, 5,572 years preceding the date of his book,
and says that Adam was expelled from Eden on the day on which he was
created. [18]_ In my volume on Genesis (pp. 29-36) the reader will find
the chronology of Genesis carefully examined. For our immediate purpose
we will take the ordinary English Bible, which gives the following
result: From Adam to Abraham (Genesis v and xi), 2,008; Abraham to Isaac
(Genesis xxi, 5), 100; Isaac to Jacob (Genesis xxv, 26), 60; Jacob going
into Egypt (Genesis xlvii, 9), 130; Sojourn in Egypt (Exodus xii, 41),
430; Duration of Moses’ leadership (Exodus vii, 7; xxxi, 2), 40;
thence to David, about 400; from David to Captivity, 14 generations
(27), about 22 reigns, 473; Captivity to Jesus, 14 generations, about
5,934 = 234; less disputed 230 years of sojourn in Egypt, 230 = 4,004.

.. [18] Munks’ “Palestine,” p.231

These dates follow the Bible statement, and there is no portion of the
orthodox text, except the period of the Judges, which will admit any
considerable extension of the ordinary Oxford chronology.

The Book of Judges is not a book of history. Everything in it is
recounted without chronological order. It will suffice to say that the
cyphers which we find in the Book of Judges and in the First Book of
Samuel yield us, from the death of Joshua to the commencement of the
reign of Saul, the sum-total of 500 years, which would make, since the
exodus from Egypt, 565 years; whereas the First Book of Kings counts
but 480 years, from the going out of Egypt down to the foundation of the
temple under Solomon. According to this we must suppose that several of
the judges governed simultaneously.(19)

Alfred Maury, in his profound essay on the classification of tongues,
traces back some of the ancient Greek mythologies to a Sanscrit source.
He has the following remark, worthy of earnest attention: “The God of
heaven, or the sky, is called by the Greek *Zeus Pater*; and let us
have notice that the pronunciation of Z resembles very much that of D,
inasmuch as the word Zeus becomes in the genitive (Dios). The Latins
termed the same God, *Dies-piter*, or Jupiter. Now in the Veda, the God
of heaven is called Dyashpitai.” What is this but the original of our
own Christian God the father, the *Jeue* pater of the Old Testament? The
Hebrew Records, whether or not God-inspired, are certainly not the
most antique. Neither is it true that the Hebrew mythology is the most
ancient, nor the Hebrew language the most primitive; on the contrary,
the mythology is clearly derived, and the language in a secondary or
tertiary state.

The word Adam is first written as a proper name in Genesis ii, 19, but
the word written Adam is and this is found in Genesis i, 26, and in
several other verses. In i, 27, the word is used as if it meant not
one man only, but “male and female;” indeed v. 2, says, “male and
female created he them and blessed them and called their name Adam.”
Genesis ii, 18, treats the man as alone, and 19 his name as Adam.

What is the value of this Book of Genesis, the sole authority for the
hypothesis that Adam and Eve, about 6,000 years ago, were the sole
founders of the peoples now living on the face of the earth? Written we
know not by whom, we know not when, and we know not in what language.
Eusebius, Chrysostom, and Clemens Alexandrinus alike agree that the name
of Moses should not stand at the head of Genesis as the author of the
book. Origen did not hesitate to declare the contents of the first and
second chapters of Genesis to be purely figurative. Our translation of
it has been severely criticised by the learned and pious Bellamy, and
by the more learned and less pious Sir William Drummond. It has been
amended and revised in our own day. Errors almost innumerable have been
pointed out, the correctness of the Hebrew text itself questioned,
and yet this book is claimed as an unerring guide to the students of
ethnology. They may do anything, everything, except stray out of the
beaten track. We have, on the one hand, an anonymous book, which, for
the development of the diversities of the human family, does not even
take us back so much as 6,000 years. At least 1,600 years must be
deducted for the alleged Noachian deluge, when the world’s inhabitants
were again reduced to one family, one race, one type. On the other hand,
we have now existing Esquimaux men, of the Arctic realm—Chinamen, of
the Asiatic realm—Englishmen, of the European realm—Sahara negroes,
of the African realm—Fuegians, of the American realm—New Zealanders,
of the Polynesian realm—the Malay, representative of the realm which
bears his name—the Tasmanian, of the Australian realm—with other
families of each realm, too numerous for mention here; dark and fair;
black-skinned and 'white-skinned; woolly-haired and straight-haired; low
forehead, high forehead; Hottentot limb, Negro limb, Caucasian limb.
Do all these different and differing structures and colors trace their
origin to one pair? To Adam and Eve, or rather to Noah and his family?
Or are they (the various races) indigenous to their native soils, and
climates? And are these various types naturally resultant, with all
their differences, from the differing conditions for life persistent to
and consistent with them?

The question is really this—Have the different races of man all found
their common parent in Noah, about 4,300 years ago? Assuming the
unity of the races or species of men now existing, there are but three
suppositions on which the diversity now seen can be accounted for:—

“1st. A miracle or direct act of the Almighty, in changing one type
into another.

“2nd. The gradual action of physical causes, such as climate, food,
mode of life, etc.

“3rd. Congenital or accidental varieties.” [20]_

.. [20] “Types of Mankind,” Dr. Nott, p. 57.

We may fairly dismiss entirely the question of miracle. Such a miracle
is nowhere recorded in the Bible, and it lies upon anyone hardy enough
to assert that the present diversity has a miraculous origin, to show
some kind of reasons for his faith, some kind of evidence to warrant
our conviction. Until this is done we need not dwell on the first
hypothesis.

Of the durability of type under its own life conditions we have
overwhelming proof in the statue of an ancient Egyptian scribe, taken
from a tomb of the fifth dynasty, 5,000 years old, and precisely
corresponding to the Fellah of the present day. [21]_ The sand had
preserved the color of the statuette, which, from its portraitlike
beauty, marks a long era of art-progress preceding its production. It
antedates the orthodox era of the Flood, carries us back to a time when,
if the Bible were true, Adam was yet alive, and still we find before it
kings reigning and ruling in mighty Egypt. Can the reader wonder that
these facts are held to impeach the orthodox faith?

.. [21] M. Pulzsky on Iconography—“Indigenous Races,” p. 111.

On the second point Dr. Nott writes: “It is a commonly received error
that the influence of a hot climate is gradually exerted on successive
generations, until one species of mankind is completely changed into
another This idea is proven to be false.... A sunburnt cheek is never
handed down to succeeding generations. The exposed parts of the body are
alone tanned by the sun, and the children of the white-skinned Europeans
in New Orleans, Mobile, and the West Indies are born as fair as their
ancestors, and would remain so if carried back to a colder climate. [22]_
Pure negroes and negresses, transported from Central Africa to England,
and marrying among themselves, would never acquire the characteristics
of the Caucasian races; nor would pure Englishmen and Englishwomen,
emigrating to Central Africa, and in like manner intermarrying, ever
become negroes or negresses. The fact is, that while you don’t bleach
the color out of the darkskinned African by placing him in London, you
bleach the life out of him; and vice versa with the Englishman. [23]_
For a long time there has been ascribed to man the faculty of adapting
himself to every climate. The following facts will show the ascription a
most erroneous one, though human adaptability is very great: “In Egypt
the austral negroes are, and the Caucasian Memlooks were, unable to
raise up even a third generation; in Corsica French families vanish
beneath Italian summers. Where are the descendants of the Romans, the
Vandals, or the Greeks in Africa? In Modern Arabia, after Mahomed Ali
had got clear of the Morea War, 18,000 Arnaots (Albanians) were soon
reduced to some 400 men. At Gibraltar, in 1817, a negro regiment was
almost annihilated by consumption. In 1814, during the three weeks on
the Niger, 130 Europeans out of 145 caught African fever, and 40 died;
out of 158 negro sailors only eleven were affected, and not one died.
In 1809 the British expedition to Welchereen failed in the Netherlands
through marsh fever. About the same time, in St. Domingo, about 15,000
French soldiers died from malaria. Of 30,000 Frenchmen, only 8,000
survived exposure to that Antillian island; while the Dominicanised
African negro, Toussaint l’Overture, retransported to Europe, was
perishing from the chill of his prison in France.”

.. [22] “Types of Mankind,” p. 58.

.. [23] “Indigenous Races of the Earth,” p. 458. The alleged discovery of whiteskinned negroes in Western Africa does not affect this question; it is not only to the color of the skin but also to the general negro characteristics that the above remarks apply.

On the third point, again quoting Dr. Nott:—

“The only argument left, then, is that of congenital varieties or
peculiarities, which are said to spring up and be transmitted from
parent to child, so as to form new races. Let us pause for a moment to
illustrate this fanciful idea. The negroes of Africa, for example,
are admitted not to be offsets from some other race which have been
gradually blackened and changed in a moral and physical type by the
action of climate; but it is asserted that ‘once, in the flight of
ages’ some genuine little negro, or rather many such, were born of
Caucasian, Mongol, or other light-skinned parents, and then have turned
about and changed the type of the inhabitants of a whole continent. So
in America, the countless aborigines found on this continent, who we
have reason to believe were building mounds before the time of Abraham,
are the offspring of a race changed by accidental or congenital
varieties. Thus, too, old China, India, Australia, Oceana, etc., all
owe their types, physical and mental, to congenital and accidental
varieties, and are descended from Adam and Eve! Can human credulity go
farther, or human ingenuity invent any argument more absurd?” [24]_

.. [24] Nott and Gliddon, “Indigenous Races,” p. 587.

But even supposing these objections to the second and third suppositions
set aside, there are two other propositions which, if affirmed, as I
believe they may be, entirely overthrow the orthodox assertion: “That
Adam and Eve, six thousand years ago, were the first pair; and that all
diversities now existing must find their common source in Noah—less
than four thousand three hundred years from the present time.” These
two are as follows:

1. That man may be traced back on the earth long prior to the alleged
Adamic era.

2. That there are diversities traceable as existing amongst the human
race four thousand five hundred years ago, as marked as in the present
day.

To illustrate the position that man may be traced back to a period long
prior to the Adamic era, we refer our readers to the chronology of the
late Baron Bunsen, who, while allowing about

22,000 years for man’s existence on earth, fixes the following dates
after a patient examination of the Nilotic antiquities::

    Egyptians under a republican form................. 10,000 B.C.

    Ascension of Bytis, the Theban, 1st Priest King.... 9,085

    Elective Kings in Egypt............................ 7,230

    Hereditary Kings in Upper and Lower Egypt,
    a double empire form............................... 5,143


The assertion of such an antiquity for Egypt is no modern hypothesis.
Plato puts language into the mouth of an Egyptian, first claiming in
that day an antecedent of 10,000 years for painting and sculpture in
Egypt. This has long been regarded as fabulous, because it was contrary
to the Hebrew chronology.

There are few who now pretend that the whole *creation* (?) took place
6,000 years ago, although, if it be true that God made all in six days,
and man on the sixth, then the universe would only be more ancient than
Adam by some five days. To state the age of the earth at 6,000 years
is simply preposterous when it is estimated that it would require about
4,000,000 of years for the formation of the fossiliferous rocks alone,
and 15,000,000 of years have been stated as a moderate estimate for
the antiquity of our globe. The deltas of the great rivers of Hindustan
afford corroboration as to man’s antiquity. In Egypt the delta of the
Nile, formed by immense quantities of sedimentary matter, which in
like manner is still carried down and deposited, has not perceptibly
increased during the last 3,000 years. “In the days of the earliest
Pharaohs, the delta, as it now exists, was covered with ancient cities
and filled with a dense population, whose civilisation must have
required a period going back far beyond any date that has yet been
assigned to the deluge of Noah, or even to the creation of the
world.” [25]_

.. [25] Gliddon’s “Types of Mankind,” p. 335.

From borings which have been made at New Orleans to the depth of 600
feet, from excavations for public works, and from examinations in parts
of Louisiana, where the range between high and low water is much greater
than it is at New Orleans, no less than ten distinct cypress forests,
divided from each other by eras of aquatic plants, etc., have been
traced, arranged vertically above each other, and from these and other
data it is estimated by Dr. Benet Dowler that the age of the delta is
at least about 158,000 years, and in the excavations above referred to,
human remains, have been found below the further forest level, making it
appear that the human race existed in the delta of the Mississippi more
than 57,000 years ago. [26]_

.. [26] “Types,” p. 336 to 369.

It is further urged by the same competent writer that human bones
discovered on the coast of Brazil, near Santas, and on the borders of
a lake called Lagoa Santa, by Captain Elliott and Dr. Lund, thoroughly
incorporated with a very hard breccia, every one in a fossil state,
demonstrate that aboriginal man in America antedates the Mississippi
alluvia, and that he can even boast a geological antiquity, because
numerous species of animals have become extinct since American
humanity’s first appearance. [27]_

.. [27] “Types,” pages 350 and 357.

With reference to the possibility of tracing back the diversities of the
human race to an antediluvian date, it is amply sufficient to point on
the one side to the remains of the American Indian disentombed from the
Mississippi forests, and on the other to the Egyptian monuments, tombs,
pyramids, and stuccoes, revealing to us Caucasian men and Negro men,
their diversities as marked as in the present day. Sir William Jones in
his day, claimed for Sanscrit literature a vast antiquity, and asserted
the existence of the religions of Egypt, Greece, India, and Italy,
prior to the Mosaic Era. So far as Egypt is concerned the researches of
Lepsius, Bunsen, Champollion, Lenormant, Gliddon, and others have fully
verified the position of the learned president of the Asiatic Society.
In “Genesis: its Authorship and Authenticity,” pp. 88-21, I have
collected other testimony on this point.

We have Egyptian statues of the third dynasty, going back far beyond the
4,300 years which would give the orthodox era of the deluge, and taking
us over the 4,500 years fixed by our second proposition. The fourth
dynasty is rich in pyramids, tombs, and statues; and according to
Lepsius, this dynasty commenced 3,426 B.C., or about 5,287 years from
the present date.

Works on the orthodox side constantly assume that the long chronologists
must be in error, because their views do not coincide with orthodox
teachings. Orthodox authors treat their heterodox brethren as unworthy
of credit, because of their heterodoxy. One writer asserts, [28]_ that the
earliest reference to Negro tribes is in the era of the 12th dynasty.
Supposing for a moment this to be correct, what even then will be the
state of the argument? The 12th dynasty, according to Lepsius ends about
4,000 years ago. The orthodox chronology fixes the deluge about 300
years earlier. Will any sane man argue that there was sufficient lapse
of time in three centuries for the development of Caucasian and Negro
man from one family?

.. [28] “Archaia,” p. 406.

We trace back the various types of man now known, not to one centre, not
to one country, not to one family, not to one pair, but we trace them to
different centres, to distinct countries, to separate families, probably
to many pairs. Wherever the conditions for life are found, there are
living beings also. The conditions of climate, soil, etc., of Central
Africa differ from those of Europe. The indigenous races of Central
Africa differ from those of Europe. Geology has helped us very little
as to the prehistoric types of man, but its aid has nevertheless been
sufficient to far outdate the one man Adam of 6,000 years ago.

I challenge the ordinary orthodox assertion of Adamic unity of origin
accompanied as it is by threats of pains and penalties if rejected; I
am yet ready to examine it, if it can be presented to me associated
with facts, and divested of those future hell-fire torments and
present societarian persecutions which now form its chief, if not sole,
supports.

The rejection of the Bible account of the peopling of the world involves
also the rejection of the entire scheme of Christianity. According to
the orthodox rendering of both New and Old Testament teaching, all
men are involved in the curse which followed Adam’s sin. But if
the account of the Fall be mythical, not historical; if Adam and
Eve—supposing them to have ever existed—were preceded on the earth
by many nations and empires, what becomes of the doctrine that Jesus
came to redeem mankind from a sin committed by one who was not the
common father of all humanity?

Reject Adam, and you cannot accept Jesus. Refuse to believe Genesis, and
you cannot give credence to Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Paul. The Old
and New Testaments are so connected together, that to dissolve the union
is to destroy the system. The account of the Creation and Fall of Man is
the foundation-stone of the Christian Church—if this stone be rotten,
the superstructure cannot be stable.


.. clearpage::

NEW LIFE OF ABRAHAM
===================

.. dropcap:: M MOST


MOST undoubtedly father Abraham is a personage whose history should
command attention, if only because he figures as the founder of the
Jewish race—a race which, having been promised protection and favor by
Deity, appear in the large majority of cases to have experienced little
else besides the sufferance of misfortune and misery themselves, or its
infliction upon others. Men are taught to believe that God, following
out a solemn covenant made with Abraham, suspended the course of nature
to aggrandise the Jews; that he promised always to bless and favor them
if they adhered to his worship and obeyed the priests. The promised
blessings were usually: political authority, individual happiness and
sexual power, long life, and great wealth; the threatened curses for
idolatry or disobedience: disease, loss of property and children,
mutilation, death. Amongst the blessings: the right to kill, plunder,
and ravish their enemies, with protection, whilst pious, against any
subjection to retaliatory measures. And all this because they were
Abraham’s children!

Abraham is especially an important personage to the orthodox
Church-going Christian. Without Abraham, no Jesus, no Christianity,
no Church of England, no bishops, no tithes, no church-rates. But for
Abraham, England would have lost all these blessings. Abraham was the
great-grandfather of Judah, the head of the tribe to which God’s
mother’s husband, Joseph, belonged.

In gathering materials for a short biographical sketch, we are at once
comforted and dismayed by the fact that the only reliable account
of Abraham’s career is that furnished by the book of Genesis,
supplemented by a few brief references in other parts of the Bible, and
that, outside “God’s perfect and infallible revelation to man,”
there is no reliable account of Abraham’s existence at all. We
are comforted by the thought that, despite the new edition of the
“Encyclopædia Britannica,” Genesis is unquestioned by the faithful,
and is at present protected by Church and State against heretic
assaults; but we are dismayed when we think that, if Infidelity,
encouraged by Colenso, Kalisch, Professor Robertson Smith, and Professor
Wellhausen, upsets Genesis, Abraham will have little historical support.
The Talmudical notices of Abraham are too wonderful for irreverent
criticism. Some philologists have asserted that Brama and Abraham are
alike corruptions of Abba Rama, or Abrama, and that Sarah is identical
with Sarasvati. Abram, is a Chaldean compound, meaning father of the
elevated, or exalted father. [--Hebrew--] is a compound of Chaldee
and Arabic, signifying father of a multitude. In part v. of his work,
Colenso mentions that Adonis was formerly identified with Abram, “high
father,” Adonis being the personified sun.

Leaving incomprehensible problems in philology for the ordinary
authorised version of our Bibles, we find that Abraham was the son of
Terah. The Talmud [29]_ says that Abraham’s mother was Amathlai, the
daughter of Karnebo (Bava Bathra, fol. 1, col. 1.) The text does not
expressly state where Abraham was born, and I cannot therefore describe
his birth-place with that accuracy of detail which a true believer might
desire, but he “dwelt in old time on the other side of the flood”
(Joshua xxiv, 2 and 3). Abraham was born when Terah, his father, was
seventy years of age; and, according to Genesis, Terah and his family
came forth out of Ur of the Chaldees, and went to Haran and dwelt there.
We turn to the map to look for Ur of the Chaldees, anxious to discover
it as possibly Abraham’s place of nativity, but find that the
translators of God’s inspired word have taken a slight liberty with
the text by substituting “Ur of the Chaldees” for “Aur Kasdim,”
the latter being, in plain English, *the light of the magi, or
conjurors, or astrologers* is stated by Kalisch to have been made the
basis for many extraordinary legends, as to Abraham’s rescue from the
flames. In the Talmud P’sachim, fol. 118, col. 1, it is written that
“At the time when Nimrod the wicked had cast our Father Abraham into
the fiery furnace, Gabriel stood forth in the presence of the Holy
one—blessed be He!—and said, ‘Lord of the universe, let me, I pray
thee, go down and cool the furnace, and deliver that righteous one from
it.’”

.. [29] The quotations are taken from Hershon’s Talmudical Miscellany.

Abraham, being born—according to Hebrew chronology, 2,083 years after
the creation, and according to the Septuagint 3,549 years after that
event—when his father was seventy, grew so slowly that when his father
reached the good old age of 205 years, Abraham had only arrived at 75
years, having, apparently, lost no less than 60 years’ growth during
his father’s fife-time. St. Augustine and St. Jerome gave this up as
a difficulty inexplicable. Calmet endeavors to explain it, and makes it
worse. It is surely impossible Abraham could have lived 135 years, and
yet be only 75 years of age?

“The Lord” spoke to Abraham, and promised to make of him a great
nation, to bless those who blessed Abraham, and to curse those who
cursed him. I do not know precisely which Lord it was that spake unto
Abraham, the Hebrew says it was Jeue, or, as our translators call it,
Jehovah, but as God said (Exodus vi, 2) that by the name “Jehovah was
I not known” to either Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob, either the omniscient
Deity had forgotten the matter, or a counterfeit Lord had assumed the
name. The word Jehovah, which the book of Exodus says Abraham did not
know, is nearly always the name by which Abraham addresses, or speaks
of, the Jewish Deity.

Abraham having been promised protection by the God of Truth, initiated
his public career with a diplomacy of statement worthy Talleyrand.
He represented his wife Sarah as his sister, which, if true, is a sad
reproach to the marriage. The Talmud, when Abram came into Egypt, asks:
“Where was Sarah? He confined her in a chest, into which he locked
her, lest anyone should gaze on her beauty. When he came to the receipt
of custom, he was summoned to open the chest, but declined, and offered
payment of the duty. The officers said: ‘Thou carryest garments;’
and he offered duty for garments. ‘Nay, it is gold thou carriest;’
and he offered the impost laid on gold. Then they said: ‘It is costly
silks, belike pearls, thou concealest;’ and he offered the custom on
such articles. At length the Egyptian officers insisted, and he opened
the box. And when he did so, all the land of Egypt was illumined by her
beauty” (Bereshith Rabba, chap. 40). The ruling Pharaoh, hearing the
beauty of Sarah commended, took her into his house, she being at
that time a fair Jewish dame, between 60 and 70 years of age, and he
entreated Abraham well for her sake, and he had sheep and oxen, asses
and servants, and camels. We do not read that Abraham objected in any
way to the loss of his wife. The Lord, who is all-just, finding out that
Pharaoh had done wrong, not only punished the king, but also punished
the king’s household, who could hardly have interfered with his
misdoings. Abraham got his wife back, and went away much richer by the
transaction. Whether the conduct of father Abraham in pocketing quietly
the price of the insult—or honor—offered to his wife, is worthy
modern imitation, is a question only within the competence of episcopal
authority. After this Abraham was very rich in “silver and gold.” So
was the Duke of Marlborough after the Duke of York had taken his sister
in similar manner into his house. In Gen. xii, 19, there is a curious
mistranslation in our version. The text is: “It is for that I had
taken her for my wife;” our version has: “I *might have taken*
her.” The Douay so translates as to take a middle phrase, leaving it
doubtful whether or not Pharaoh actually took Sarah as his wife. In any
case, the Egyptian king acted far the better of the twain. Abraham plays
the part of a timorous, contemptible hypocrite. Strong enough to have
fought for his wife, he sold her. Yet Abraham is blessed, and his
conduct is our pattern!

Despite his timorousness in the matter of his wife, Abraham was a man
of wonderful courage and warlike ability. To rescue his relative,
Lot—with whom he could not live on the same land without quarrelling,
both being religious—he armed 318 servants, and fought with four
powerful kings, defeating them and recovering the spoil. Abraham’s
victory was so decisive, that the King of Sodom, who fled and fell (xiv,
10) in a previous encounter, now met Abraham alive (see verse 17), to
congratulate him on his victory. Abraham was also offered bread and wine
by Melchisedek, King of Salem, priest of the Most High God. Where was
Salem? Some identify it with Jerusalem, which it cannot be, as Jebus was
not so named until after the time of the Judges (Judges xix, 10). How
does this King of this unknown Salem, never heard of before or
after, come to be priest of the Most High God? These are queries for
divines—orthodox disciples believe without inquiring. Melchisedek was
most unique as far as genealogy is concerned. He had no father. He was
without mother also; he had no beginning of days or end of life, and
must be therefore at the present time an extremely old gentleman, who
would be an invaluable acquisition to any antiquarian Bible Evidence
Association fortunate enough to cultivate his acquaintance. God having
promised. Abraham a numerous family, and the promise not having been in
any part fulfilled, the patriarch grew uneasy, and remonstrated with the
Lord, who explained the matter thoroughly to Abraham when the latter was
in a deep sleep, and a dense darkness prevailed. Religious explanations
come with greater force under these or similar conditions. Natural
or artificial light and clear-sightedness are always detrimental to
spiritual manifestations.

Abraham’s wife had a maid named Hagar, and she bore to Abraham a child
named Ishmael; at the time Ishmael was born, Abraham was 86 years of
age. Just before Ishmael’s birth Hagar was so badly treated that she
ran away. As she was only a slave, God persuaded Hagar to return and
humble herself to her mistress. Thirteen years afterwards God appeared
to Abraham, and instituted the rite of circumcision—which rite had
been practised long before by other nations—and again renewed the
promise. The rite of circumcision was not only practised by nations long
anterior to that of the Jews, but appears in many cases not even to have
been pretended as a religious rite (See Kalisch, Genesis, p. 386; Cahen,
Genese, p. 43). After God had “left off talking with him, God went up
from Abraham.” As God is infinite, he did not, of course, go up; but
still the Bible says God went up, and it is the duty of the people to
believe that he did so, especially as the infinite Deity then and now
resides habitually in “heaven” wherever that may be. Again the Lord
appeared to Abraham, either as three men or angels or as one of the
three, and Abraham, hospitably inclined, invited the three to wash their
feet and to rest under the tree, and gave butter and milk and dressed
calf, tender and good, to them, and they did eat; and after the
enquiry as to where Sarah then was, the promise of a son is
repeated. Sarah—then by her own admission an old woman, stricken in
years—laughed when she heard this, and the Lord said: “Wherefore did
Sarah laugh?” and Sarah denied it; but the Lord said: “Nay, but thou
didst laugh.” The three men then went toward Sodom, and Abraham with
them as a guide; and the Lord explained to Abraham that some sad reports
had reached him about Sodom and Gomorrah, and that he was then going to
find out whether the report was reliable. God is omnipresent, and
was always therefore at Sodom and Gomorrah, but had apparently been
temporarily absent; he is omniscient, and therefore knew everything
which was happening at Sodom and Gomorrah, but he did not know whether
or not the people were as wicked they had been represented to him. God,
Job tells us, “put no trust in his servants, and his angels he charged
with folly.” Between the rogues and the fools, therefore, the allwise
and all-powerful God seems to be liable to be misled by the reports made
to him. Two of the three men or angels went on to Sodom, and left the
Lord with Abraham, who began to remonstrate with Deity on the wholesale
destruction contemplated, and asked him to spare the city if fifty
righteous should be found within it. God said: “If I find fifty
righteous within the city, then will I spare the place for their
sakes.” God, being all-wise, knew there were not fifty in Sodom, and
was deceiving Abraham. By dint of hard bargaining in thorough Hebrew
fashion Abraham, whose faith seemed to be tempered by distrust, got the
stipulated number reduced to ten, and then “the Lord went his way.”

Jacob Ben Chajim, in his introduction to the Rabbinical Bible (p. 28),
tells us that the Hebrew text used to read in verse 22: “And Jehovah
still stood before Abraham;” but the scribes altered it, and made
Abraham stand before the Lord, thinking the original text offensive to
Deity.

Genesis xviii has given plenty of work to the divines. Augustine
contended that God can take food, though he does not require it. Justin
compared “the eating of God with the devouring power of the fire.”
Kalisch sorrows over the holy fathers “who have taxed all their
ingenuity to make the act of eating compatible with the attributes of
Deity.”

In the Epistle to the Romans Abraham’s faith is greatly praised. We
are told (iv, 19 and 20) that: “Being not weak in faith, he considered
not his own body now dead, when he was about an hundred years old,
neither yet the deadness of Sarah’s womb. He staggered not at the
promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory
to God.” Yet, so far from Abraham giving God glory, Genesis xvii, 17,
says that: “Abraham fell upon his face and laughed, and said in his
heart, Shall a child be born unto him that is an hundred years old? and
shall Sarah, that is ninety years old, bear?” The Rev. Mr. Boutell
says that “the declaration which caused Sarah to ‘laugh’ shows
the wonderful familiarity which was then permitted to Abraham in his
communications with God.”

After the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Abraham journeyed south
and sojourned in Gerar, and, either untaught or too well taught by
his previous experience, again represented his wife as his sister,
and Abimelech, king of Gerar, sent and took Sarah. As before, we find
neither remonstrance nor resistance recorded on the part of Abraham.
This time God punished the women in Abimelech’s house for an offence
they did not commit, and Sarah was again restored to her husband, with
sheep, oxen, men-servants, women-servants, and money. Infidels object
that the Bible says Sarah “was old and well stricken in age;” that
“it had ceased to be with her after the manner of women;” that she
was more than 90 years of age; and that it is not likely King Abimelech
would fall in love with an ugly old woman; but if Genesis be true, it
is clear that Sarah had not ceased to be attractive, as God resorted to
especial means to protect her from Abimelech. At length Isaac was born,
and his mother Sarah urged Abraham to expel Hagar and her son, “and
the thing was very grievous in Abraham’s sight because of his son;”
the mother being only a bondwoman does not seem to have troubled him.
God, however, approving Sarah’s notion, Hagar was expelled, “and she
departed and wandered in the wilderness, and the water was spent in
the bottle, and she cast the child under one of the shrubs.” She had
apparently carried the child, who—being at least more than 14, and
according to some calculations as much as 17 years of age—must have
been a heavy child to carry in a warm climate.

The Talmud says: “On the day when Isaac was weaned Abraham made a
great feast, to which he invited all the people of the land. Not all of
those who came to enjoy the feast believed in the alleged occasion of
its celebration, for some said contemptuously, ‘This old couple have
adopted a foundling, and provided a feast to persuade us to believe that
the child is their own offspring.’ What did Abraham do? He invited
all the great men of the day, and Sarah invited their wives, who brought
their infants, but not their nurses, along with them. On this occasion
Sarah’s breasts became like two fountains, for she supplied, of her
own body, nourishment to all the children. Still some were unconvinced,
and said, ‘Shall a child be born to one that is a hundred years old,
and shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear?’ (Gen. xvii, 17).
Whereupon, to silence this objection, Isaac’s face was changed,
so that it became the very picture of Abraham’s; then one and all
exclaimed, ‘Abraham begat Isaac’” (Bara Metzia, fol. 87, col. 1).

God never did tempt any man at any time, but he “did tempt Abraham”
to kill Isaac by offering him as a burnt offering. The doctrine of human
sacrifice is one of the holy mysteries of Christianity, as taught in the
Old and New Testament. Of course, judged from a religious or Biblical
stand-point, it cannot be wrong, as, if it were, God would not have
permitted Jephtha to sacrifice his daughter by offering her as a burnt
offering, nor have tempted Abraham to sacrifice his son, nor have said
in Leviticus, “None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be
redeemed; but shall surely be put to death” (xxvii, 29), nor have in the
New Testament worked out the monstrous sacrifice of his only son Jesus,
at the same time son and begetting father.

Abraham did not seem to be entirely satisfied with his own conduct when
about to kill Isaac, for he not only concealed from his servants his
intent, but positively stated that which was not true, saying, “I
and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you.” If he
meant that he and Isaac would come again to them, then he knew that the
sacrifice would not take place. Nay, Abraham even deceived his own son,
who asked him where was the lamb for the burnt offering? But we learn
from the New Testament that Abraham acted in this and other matters
“by faith,” so his falsehoods and evasions, being results and
aids of faith, must be dealt with in an entirely different manner from
transactions of every day life. Just as Abraham stretched forth his hand
to slay his son, the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven, and
prevented the murder, saying, “Now I know that thou fearest God,
seeing thou hast not withheld thy son.” This conveys the impression
that up to that moment the angel of the Lord was not quite certain upon
the subject.

In Genesis xiii God says to Abraham, “Lift up now thine eyes, and look
from the place where thou art northward, and southward, and eastward,
and westward. For all the land which thou seest, to thee will I give it,
and to thy seed for ever. Arise, walk through the land, in the length of
it, and in the breadth of it, for I will give it unto thee.” Yet, as
is admitted by the Rev. Charles Boutell, in his “Bible Dictionary,”
“The only portion of territory in that land of promise, of which
Abraham became possessed,” was a graveyard, which he had bought and
paid for. Although Abraham was too old to have children before the birth
of Isaac, he had many children after Isaac [was] born. He lived to “a
good old age” and died “full of years,” but was yet younger than
any of those who preceded him, and whose ages are given in the Bible
history, except Nahor.

According to the Talmud, as Abraham was very pious so were his very
camels, for they would not enter into a place where there were idols
(Avoth d’ Rabbi Nathan, chap. 8).

Abraham gave “all that he had to Isaac,” but appears to have
distributed the rest of the property amongst his other children, who
were sent to enjoy it somewhere down East.

According to the New Testament, Abraham is now in Paradise, but Abraham
in heaven is scarcely an improvement upon Abraham on earth. When he
was entreated by an unfortunate in hell for a drop of water to cool his
tongue, father Abraham replied: “Son, remember that in thy lifetime
thou receivedst thy good things, and now thou art tormented,” as
if the reminiscence of past good would alleviate present and future
continuity of evil.

Rabbi Levi says that Abraham sits at the gate of hell and does not
permit any circumcised Israelite to enter (Yalkut Shimoni, fol. 33, col.
2, sec. 18).

The Talmud declares that “Abraham was a giant of giants; his height
was as that of *seventy-four* men put together. His food, his drink,
and his strength were in the proportion of seventy-four men’s to one
man’s. He built an iron city for the abode of his seventeen children
by Keturah, the walls of which were so lofty that the sun never
penetrated them; he gave them a bowl full of precious stones, the
brilliancy of which supplied them with light in the absence of the sun.”
(Sophrim, chap. 21).


.. clearpage::

NEW LIFE OF JACOB
=================

.. dropcap:: I IT


IT ought to be pleasant work to present sketches of God’s chosen
people. More especially should it be an agreeable task to recapitulate
the interesting events occurring during the life of a man whom God has
loved. Jacob was the son of Isaac; the grandson of Abraham. These three
men were so free from fault, their lives so unobjectionable, that the
God of the Bible delighted to be called the “God of Abraham, the God
of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” It is true that Abraham owned slaves,
was not always exact to the truth, and, on one occasion, turned his wife
and child out to the mercies of a sandy desert; that Isaac in some sort
followed his father’s example and disingenuous practices; and that
Jacob was without manly feeling, a sordid, selfish, unfraternal cozener,
a cowardly trickster, a cunning knave; but they must nevertheless have
been good men, for God was “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac,
and the God of Jacob.” The name Jacob is not inappropriate. Kalisch
says—“This appellation, if taken in its obvious etymological
meaning, implies a deep ignominy: for the root from which it is derived
signifies *to deceive, to defraud*, and in such a despicable meaning the
same form of the word is indeed used elsewhere” (Jeremiah ix, 3.). Jacob
would, therefore, be nothing else but the crafty *impostor*; in this
sense Esau, in the heat of his animosity, in fact clearly explains the
word, “justly is his name called Jacob (cheat) because he has cheated
me twice.” (Genesis xxvii, 36.) Pious Jews in the formula for blessing
the new moon are taught in the Kabbalah “to meditate on the initials
of the four divine epithets which form Jacob.” According to the
ordinary orthodox Bible chronology, Jacob was born about 1836 or 1837
B.C., that is, about 2168 years from “in the beginning,” his father
Isaac being then sixty years of age. There is a difficulty connected
with Holy Scripture chronology which would be insuperable were it not
that we have the advantage of spiritual aids in elucidation of the text.
This difficulty arises from the fact that the chronology of the Bible,
in this respect, like the major portion of Bible history, is utterly
unreliable. But we do not look to the Old or New Testament for
mere common-place, every-day facts—if we do, severe will be the
disappointment of the truth-seeker—we look there for mysteries,
miracles, paradoxes, and perplexities, and have no difficulty in
[finding] the objects of our search. Jacob was born, together with his
twin brother, Esau, in consequence of special entreaty addressed by
Isaac to the Lord on behalf of Re-bekah, to whom he had been married
about nineteen years, and who was yet childless. Infidel physiologists
(and it is a not unaccountable fact, that all who are physiologists are
also in so far infidel) assert that prayer would do little to repair the
consequence of such disease, or such abnormal organic structure, as had
compelled sterility. But our able clergy are agreed that the Bible was
not intended to teach us science; or, at any rate, we have learned that
its attempts in that direction are most miserable failures. Its
mission is to teach the unteachable: to enable us to comprehend the
incomprehensible. Before Jacob was born God decreed that he and his
descendants should obtain the mastery over Esau and his descendants:
“the elder shall serve the younger.” (Gen. xxv, 23) The God of
the Bible is a just God, but it is hard for weak flesh to discover the
justice of this proemial decree, which so sentenced to servitude the
children of Esau before their father’s birth. Jacob came into the
world holding by his brother’s heel, like some cowardly knave in
the battle of life, who, not daring to break a gap in the hedge of
conventional prejudice, which bars his path, is yet ready enough to
follow some bolder warrior, and to gather the fruits of his courage.
“And the boys grew: and Esau was a cunning hunter, a man of the field:
and Jacob was a plain man, dwelling in tents.” One day, Esau returned
from his hunting, faint and wearied to the very point of death. He was
hungry, and came to Jacob, his twin and only brother, saying, “Feed
me, I pray thee” (Ibid., xxv, 30) “for I am exceedingly faint.”
(Douay Version) In a like case would not any man so entreated
immediately offer to the other the best at his command, the more
especially when that other is his only brother, born at the same time,
from the same womb, suckled at the same breast, fed under the same roof?
But Jacob was not merely a man and a brother, he was one of God’s
chosen people, and one who had been honored by God’s prenatal
selection. “If a man come unto me and hate not his brother, he cannot
be my disciple.” So taught Jesus the Jew, in after time, and in this
earlier age Jacob the Jew, in practice, anticipated the later doctrine.
It is one of the misfortunes of theology, if not its crime, that
profession of love to God is often accompanied with bitter and active
hate of man. Jacob was one of the founders of the Jewish race, and even
in this their prehistoric age, the instinct for driving a hard bargain
seems strongly developed. “Jacob said” to Esau, “Sell me this
day thy birthright.” The famished man vainly expostulated, and the
birthright was sold for a mess of pottage. If to-day one man should so
meanly and cruelly take advantage of his brother’s necessities to
rob him of his birthright, all good and honest men would shun him as an
un-brotherly scoundrel, and most contemptible knave; yet, less than

4,000 years ago, a very different standard of morality must have
prevailed. Indeed, if God is unchangeable, divine notions of honor and
honesty must to-day be widely different from those of our highest men.
God approved and endorsed Jacob’s conduct. His approval is shown
by his love, afterwards expressed for Jacob; his endorsement by his
subsequent attention to Jacob’s welfare. We may learn from this tale,
so pregnant with instruction, that any deed which to the worldly and
sensible man appears like knavery while understood literally becomes
to the devout and prayerful man an act of piety when understood
spiritually. Pious preachers and clever commentators declare that
Esau despised his birthright. I do not deny that they might back their
declaration by scripture quotations, but I do deny that the narrative
ought to convey any such impression. Esau’s words were, “Behold I am
at the point to die: and what profit shall this birthright be to me?”

Bereshith Rabba, cap. 95, says that “wherever Jacob resided, he
studied the law as his fathers did,” and it adds, “How is this,
seeing that the law had not yet been given?” There is no record
that Esau also studied the law, and there is no mention of any legal
proceedings to set aside this very questionable birthright transfer.

Isaac growing old, and fearing from his physical infirmities the
near approach of death, was anxious to bless Esau before he died, and
directed him to take quiver and bow and go out in the field to hunt some
venison for a savory meat, such as old Isaac loved. Esau departed, but
when he had left his father’s presence in order to fulfil his request,
Jacob appeared on the scene. Instigated by his mother, he, by an abject
stratagem, passed himself off as Esau. With a savory meat prepared by
Rebekah, he came into his father’s presence, and Isaac said, “Who
art thou, my son?” Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord. The Lord
loved Jacob, yet Jacob lied to his old blind father, saying, “I am
Esau thy firstborn.” Isaac had some doubts: these are manifested by
his inquiring how it was that the game was killed so quickly. Jacob,
whom God loved, in a spirit of shameless blasphemy replied, “Because
the Lord thy God brought it to me.” Isaac still hesitated, fancying
that he recognised the voice to be the voice of Jacob, and again
questioned him, saying, “Art thou my very son Esau?” God is the God
of truth and loved Jacob, yet Jacob said, “I am.” Then Isaac blessed
Jacob, believing that he was blessing Esau and God permitted the fraud
to be successful, and himself also blessed Jacob. In that extraordinary
composition known as the Epistle to the Hebrews, we are told that by
faith Isaac blessed Jacob. But what faith had Isaac? Faith that Jacob
was Esau? His belief was produced by deceptive appearances. His faith
resulted from false representations. And there are very many men in the
world who have no better foundation for their religious faith than had
Isaac when he blessed Jacob, believing him to be Esau. In the Douay
Bible I find the following note on this remarkable narrative: “St.
Augustine (*L. contra mendacium*, c. 10), treating at large upon
this place, excuseth Jacob from a lie, because this whole passage was
mysterious, as relating to the preference which was afterwards to be
given to the Gentiles before the carnal Jews, which Jacob, by prophetic
light, might understand. So far it is certain that the first birthright,
both by divine election and by Esau’s free cession, belonged to Jacob;
so that if there were any lie in the case, it would be no more than an
officious and venial one.” How glorious to be a patriarch, and to have
a real saint laboring years after your death to twist your lies
into truth by aid of prophetic light! Lying is at all times most
disreputable, but at the deathbed the crime is rendered more heinous.
The death hour would have awed many men into speaking the truth, but it
had little effect on Jacob. Although Isaac was about to die, this greedy
knave cared not, so that he got from the dying man the sought-for prize.
God is said to love righteousness and hate iniquity, yet he loved the
iniquitous Jacob, and hated the honest Esau. All knaves are tinged more
or less with cowardice. Jacob was no exception to the rule. His brother,
enraged at the deception practised upon Isaac, threatened to kill Jacob.
Jacob was warned by his mother and fled. Induced by Rebekah, Isaac
charged Jacob to marry one of Laban’s daughters. On the way to Haran,
where Laban dwelt, Jacob rested and slept. While sleeping he dreamed;
ordinarily, dreams have little significance, but in the Bible they are
more important. Some of the most weighty and vital facts of the
Bible are communicated in dreams; and rightly so; if the men had been
wideawake they would have probably rejected the revelation as absurd. So
much does that prince of darkness, the devil, influence mankind against
the Bible in the day time, that it is when all is dark, and our eyes are
closed, and the senses dormant, that God’s mysteries are most clearly
seen and understood. Jacob “saw in his sleep a ladder standing upon
the earth, and the top thereof touching heaven; the angels also, of God
ascending and descending by it, and the Lord leaning upon the ladder
(Gen. xxviii, 12 and 13, Douay Version). In the ancient temples of
India, and in the mysteries of Mithra, the seven-stepped ladder by
which the spirits ascended to heaven is a prominent feature, and one
of probably far higher antiquity than the age of Jacob. Did paganism
furnish the groundwork for the patriarch’s dream? “No man hath seen
God at anytime.” God is “invisible.” Yet Jacob saw the invisible
God, whom no man hath seen or can see, either standing above a ladder or
leaning upon it. True, it was all a dream. Yet God spoke to Jacob, but
perhaps that was a delusion too. We find by scripture that God threatens
to send to some “strong delusions that they might believe a lie and be
damned.” Poor Jacob was much frightened; as any one might be, to
dream of God leaning on so long a ladder. What if it had broken, and the
dreamer underneath it? Jacob’s fears were not so powerful but that
his shrewdness and avarice had full scope in a sort of half-vow,
halfcontract, made in the morning. Jacob said, “If God will be with me
and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat,
and raiment to put on, so that I shall come again to my father’s house
in peace, then shall the Lord be my God.” The inference deducible from
this conditional statement is, that if God failed to complete the items
enumerated by Jacob, then the latter would have nothing to do with him.
Jacob was a shrewd Jew, who would have laughed to scorn the preaching
“Take no thought, saying, what shall we eat? or, what shall we drink?
or, wherewithal shall we be clothed?”

After this contract Jacob went on his journey, and reached the house of
his mother’s brother, Laban, into whose service he entered. “Diamond
cut diamond” would be an appropriate heading to the tale which gives
the transactions between Jacob the Jew and Laban the son of Nahor.
Laban had two daughters. Rachel, the youngest, was “beautiful and
well-favored;” Leah, the elder, was “blear-eyed.” Jacob served
for the pretty one; but on the wedding day Laban made a feast, and when
evening came gave Jacob the ugly Leah instead of the pretty Rachel.
Jacob being (according to Josephus) both in drink and in the dark, it
was morning ere he discovered his error. After this Jacob served
for Rachel also, and then the remainder of the chapter of Jacob’s
servitude to Laban is but the recital of a series of frauds
and trickeries. Jacob embezzled Laban’s property, and Laban
misappropriated and changed Jacob’s wages. In fact, if Jacob had not
possessed the advantage of divine aid, he would probably have failed in
the endeavor to cheat his master, but God, who says “thou shalt not
covet thy neighbor’s house, nor anything that is thy neighbor’s,”
encouraged Jacob in his career of covetous criminalty. At last Jacob,
having amassed a large quantity of property, determined to abscond
from his employment, and taking advantage of his uncle’s absence at
sheepshearing “he stole away unawares,” taking with him his wives,
his children, flocks, herds, and goods. To crown the whole, Rachel,
worthy wife of a husband so fraudulent, stole her father’s gods.

But in those days God’s ways were not as our ways. God came to Laban
in a dream and compounded the felony, saying, “Take heed thou speak
not anything harshly against Jacob.” [30]_ This would probably prevent
Laban giving evidence in a police court against Jacob, and thus save
him from transportation or penal servitude. After a reconciliation and
treaty had been effected between Jacob and Laban, the former went on
his way “and the angels of God met him.” Balaam’s ass, at a later
period, shared the good fortune which was the lot of Jacob, for that
animal also had a meeting with an angel. Jacob was the grandson of
the faithful Abraham to whom angels also appeared. It is somewhat
extraordinary that Jacob should have manifested no surprise at meeting
a host of angels. Still more worthy of note is it that our good
translators elevate the same words into “angels” in verse 1, which
they degrade into “messengers” in verse 3. John Bellamy, in his
translation, says the “angels” were not immortal angels, and it is
very probable John Bellamy was right. Jacob sent messengers before him
to Esau, and heard that the latter was coming to meet him followed by
400 men. Jacob, a timorous knave at best, became terribly afraid.
He, doubtless, remembered the wrongs inflicted upon Esau, the cruel
extortion of the birthright, and the fraudulent obtainment of the dying
Isaac’s blessing. He, therefore, sent forward to his brother Esau a
large present as a peace offering. He also divided the remainder of his
flocks, herds, and goods, into two divisions, that if one were smitten,
the other might escape; sending these on, he was left alone. While alone
he wrestled with either a man, or an angel, or God. The text says “a
man,” the heading to the chapter says “an angel” and Jacob himself
says that he has “seen God face to face.” Whether God, angel, or
man, it was not a fair wrestle, and were the present editor of Bell’s
Life referee, he would, unquestionably, declare it to be most unfair
to touch “the hollow of Jacob’s thigh” so as to put it “out
of joint,” and consequently, award the result of the match to
Jacob. Jacob, notwithstanding the injury, still kept his grip, and the
apocryphal wrestler, finding himself no match at fair struggling, and
that foul play was unavailing, now tried entreaty, and said, “Let me
go, for the day breaketh.” Spirits never appear in the day time, when
if they did appear, they could be seen and examined; they are often more
visible in the twilight, in the darkness, and in dreams. Jacob would not
let go: his life’s instinct for bargaining prevailed, and probably,
because he could get nothing else, he insisted on his opponent’s
blessing, before he let him go. In the Roman Catholic version of the
Bible there is the following note:—“Chap. xxxii, v. 24. *A man,
etc*.This was an angel in human shape, as we learn from *Osee* (c. xii,
v. 4). He is called God (xv, 28 and 30), because he represented the son
of God. This wrestling, in which Jacob, assisted by God, was a match for
an angel, was so ordered (v. 28) that he might learn by this experiment
of the divine assistance, that neither Esau, nor any other man, should
have power to hurt him.” How elevating it must be to the true believer
to conceive God helping Jacob to wrestle with his own representative. On
the morrow Jacob met Esau.

.. [30] Genesis, xxxi, v. 24, Douay version.

“And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and
kissed [31]_ him; and they wept.”

.. [31] The Talmud says: “Read not ‘and he kissed him,’ but read ‘and he bit him’” (Pirke d’Rab Eliezer, chap. 36); and Rabbi Yanai says: “Esau did not come to kiss him, but to bite him; only the neck of Jacob our father became as hard as marble, and this blunted the teeth of the wicked one. And what is taught by the expression ‘And they wept?’ ‘The one wept for his neck, and the other for his teeth” (“Midrash Rabbah,” c. 68). Aben Ezra says that this exposition is only fit for children.

“And he said, What meanest thou by all this drove which I met? And he
said, These are to find grace in the sight of my lord.” “And Esau
said, I have enough, my brother; keep that thou hast unto thyself.”

“The last portion of the history of Jacob and Esau”, writes G. J.
Holyoake, “is very instructive. The coward fear of Jacob to meet his
brother is well delineated. He is subdued by a sense of his treacherous
guilt. The noble forgiveness of Esau invests his memory with more
respect than all the wealth Jacob won, and all the blessings of the Lord
he received. Could I change my name from Jacob to Esau, I would do it
in honor of him. The whole incident has a dramatic interest. There is
nothing in the Old or New Testament equal to it. The simple magnanimity
of Esau is scarcely surpassed by anything in Plutarch. In the conduct
of Esau, we see the triumph of time, of filial affection, and generosity
over a deep sense of execrable treachery, unprovoked and irrevocable
injury.” Was not Esau a merciful, noble, generous man? Yet God hated
him, and shut him out of all share in the promised land. Was not Jacob
a mean, prevaricating knave: a crafty, abject cheat? Yet God loved and
rewarded him. How great are the mysteries in this Bible representation
of an all-good and all-loving God, thus hating good, and loving evil!
At the time of the wrestling a promise was made, which is afterwards
repeated by God to Jacob, that the latter should not be any more
called Jacob, but Israel. This promise was not strictly kept; the name
“Jacob” being used repeatedly, mingled with that of Israel in the
after part of Jacob’s history. Jacob had a large family; his sons are
reputedly the heads of the twelve Jewish tribes. Joseph, who was
much loved by his father, was sold by his brethren into slavery. This
transaction does not seem to have called for any special reproval from
God. Joseph, who from early life was skilled in dreams, succeeded by
interpreting the visions of Pharaoh in obtaining a sort of premiership
in Egypt; while filling which office he, like more modern Prime
Ministers, “placed his father and his brethren, and gave them a
possession in the land of Egypt, in the best of the land.” Joseph not
only gave his own family the best place in the land, but he also, by a
trick of statecraft, obtained the land for the king, made slaves of the
people, and made it a law over the land of Egypt that the king should be
entitled to one-fifth of the produce, always, of course, excepting and
saving the rights of the priest. Judah, another brother, sought to have
burned a woman by whom he had a child. A third, named Reuben, was guilty
of the grossest vice, equalled only by that of Absalom the son of
David; of Simeon and Levi, two more of Jacob’s sons, it is said that
“instruments of cruelty were in their habitations;” their conduct,
as detailed in the 34th chapter of Genesis, alike shocks by its
treachery and its mercilessness. After Jacob had heard that his son
Joseph was governor in Egypt, but before he had journeyed farther than
Beersheba, God spake unto him in the visions of the night, and probably
forgetting that he had given him a new name, or being more accustomed to
the old one, said, “Jacob, Jacob,” and then told him to go down into
Egypt; where Jacob died after a residence of about seventeen years, when
147 years of age. [32]_ Before Jacob died he blessed first the sons
of Joseph, and then his own children, and at the termination of his
blessing to Ephraim and Manasseh, we find the following speech addressed
to Joseph, “Moreover I have given to thee one portion above thy
brethren, which I took out of the hand of the Amorite with my sword
and with my bow.” This speech implies warlike pursuits on the part of
Jacob, of which the Bible gives no record, and which seem incompatible
with his recorded life. The sword of craft and the bow of cunning are
the only weapons in the use of which he was skilled. When his sons
murdered and robbed the Hivites, fear seems to have been Jacob’s most
prominent characteristic.

.. [32] Bava Bathra, fol. 17, col. 1, says: “Over six the angel of death had no dominion and these were: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Moses, Aaron, and Miriam,” and it also says that these and Benjamin, the son of Jacob, “are seven who are not consumed by the worm in the grave.”

The Talmud says: “The sons of Esau, of Ishmael, and of Keturah, went
on purpose to dispute the burial (of Jacob); but when they saw that
Joseph had placed his crown upon the coffin, they did the same with
theirs.” There were *thirty-six* crowns in all, tradition says. “And
they mourned with a great and very sore lamentation.” Even the very
horses and asses joined in it, we are told. On arriving at the cave of
Machpelah, Esau once more protested, and said, “Adam and Eve, Abraham
and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, are all buried here. Jacob disposed of his
share when he buried Leah in it, and the remaining one belongs to me.”
“But thou didst sell thy share with thy birthright,” remonstrated
the sons of Jacob. “Nay,” rejoined Esau, “that did not include my
share in the burial place.” “Indeed it did,” they argued, “for
our father, just before he died, said (Gen. i, 5), ‘In my grave
which I have bought for myself.’” “Where are the title-deeds?”
demanded Esau. “In Egypt,” was the answer. And immediately the
swiftfooted Naphthali started for the records (“So light of foot was
he,” says the Book of Jasher, “that he could go upon the ears of
corn without crushing them”). Hushim, the son of Dan, being deaf,
asked what was the cause of the commotion. On being told what it was, he
snatched up a club and smote Esau so hard that his eyes dropped out and
fell upon the feet of Jacob, at which Jacob opened his eyes and grimly
smiled (Soteh, fol. 13, col. 1).


.. clearpage::

NEW LIFE OF MOSES
=================

.. dropcap:: T THE


THE “Life of Abraham” was presented to our readers, because, as the
nominal founder of the Jewish race, his position entitled him to that
honour. The “Life of David,” because, as one of the worst men and
worst kings ever known, his history might afford matter for reflection
to admirers of monarchical institutions and matter for comment to the
advocates of a republican form of government. The “Life of Jacob”
served to show how basely mean and contemptibly deceitful a man might
become, and yet enjoy God’s love. Having given thus a brief outline
of the career of the patriarch, the king, and the knave, the life of a
priest naturally presents itself as the most fitting to complement the
present quadrifid series.

Moses, the great grandson of Levi, was born in Egypt, not far distant
from the banks of the Nile, a river world-famous for its inundations,
made familiar to ordinary readers by the travellers who have journeyed
to discover its source, and held in bad repute by strangers, especially
on account of the carnivorous Saurians who infest its waters. The mother
and father of our hero were both of the tribe of Levi, and were named
Jochebed and Amram. The infant Moses was, at the age of three months,
placed in an ark of bulrushes by the river’s brink. This was done in
order to avoid the decree of extermination propounded by the reigning
Pharaoh against the male Jewish children. The daughter of Pharaoh,
coming down to the river to bathe, found the child and took compassion
upon him, adopting him as her son. Of the early life of Moses we have
but scanty record. We are told in the New Testament that he was learned
in the wisdom of the Egyptians (Acts vii, 21), and that “when he was
come to years he refused” by faith (Hebrews, xi, 24) “to be called
the son of Pharaoh’s daughter.” Perhaps the record from which the
New Testament writers quoted has been lost; it is certain that the
present version of the Old Testament does not contain those statements.
The record which is lost may have been God’s original revelation to
man, and of which our Bible may be an incomplete version. I am little
grieved by the supposition that a revelation may have been lost, being,
for my own part, more inclined to think that no revelation has ever been
made. Josephus says that, when quite a baby, Moses trod contemptuously
on the crown of Egypt. The Egyptian monuments and Exodus are both silent
on this point. Josephus also tells us that Moses led the Egyptians in
war against the Ethiopians, and married Tharbis, the daughter of the
Ethiopian monarch. This also is omitted both in Egyptian history and in
the sacred record. When Moses was grown, according to the Old Testament,
or when he was 40 years of age according to the New, “it came into his
heart to visit his brethren the children of Israel,” “And he spied
an Egyptian smiting an Hebrew;” “And he looked this way and that
way, and when he saw that there was no man, he slew the Egyptian, and
hid him in the sand.” The New Testament says that he did it, “for he
supposed that his brethren would understand how that God, by his hand,
would deliver them.” (Acts vii, 25) But this is open to the following
objections:—The Old Testament says nothing of the kind;—there was
no man to see the homicide, and as Moses hid the body, it is hard to
conceive how he could expect the Israelites to understand a matter of
which they not only had no knowledge whatever, but which he himself did
not think was known to them;—if there were really no man present,
the story of the after accusation against Moses needs explanation;—it
might be further objected that it does not appear that Moses at that
time did even himself conceive that he had any mission from God to
deliver his people. Moses fled from the wrath of Pharaoh, and dwelt in
Midian, where he married the daughter of one Reuel or Raguel, or Jethro.
This name is not of much importance, but it is strange that if Moses
wrote the books of the Pentateuch he was not more exact in designating
so near a relation. While acting as shepherd to his father-in-law, “he
led the flock to the back side of the desert,” and “the angel of
the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire:” that is, the angel was
either a flame, or was the object which was burning, for this angel
appeared in the midst of a bush which burned with fire, but was not
consumed. This flame appears to have been a luminous one, for it was a
“great sight,” and attracted Moses, who turned aside to see it.
But the luminosity would depend on substance ignited and rendered
incandescent. Is the angel of the Lord a substance susceptible of
ignition and incandesence? Who knoweth? If so, will the fallen angels
ignite and burn in hell? God called unto Moses out of the midst of the
bush. It is hard to conceive an infinite God in the middle of a bush,
yet as the law of England says that we must not “deny the Holy
Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be of divine authority,” in
order not to break the law, I advise all to believe that, in addition
to being in the middle of a bush, the infinite and all-powerful God
also sat on the top of a box, dwelt sometimes in a tent, afterwards in
a temple; although invisible, appeared occasionally; and, being a spirit
without body or parts, was hypostatically incarnate as a man. Moses,
when spoken to by God, “hid his face, for he was afraid to look upon
God.” If Moses had known that God was *invisible*, he would have
escaped this fear. God told Moses that the cry of the children of Israel
had reached him, and that he had *come down* to deliver them, and that
Moses was to lead them out of Egypt. Moses does not seem to have placed
entire confidence in the phlegomic divine communication, and asked,
when the Jews should question him on the name of the Deity, what answer
should he make? It does not appear from this that the Jews, if they
had so completely forgotten God’s name, had much preserved the
recollection of the promise comparatively so recently made to Abraham,
to Isaac, and to Jacob. The answer given according to our version is,
“I am that I am;” according to the Douay, “I am who am.” God, in
addition, told Moses that the Jews should spoil the Egyptians of their
wealth; but even this promise of plunder, so congenial to the nature of
a bill-discounting Jew of the Bible type, did not avail to overcome
the scruples of Moses. God therefore taught him to throw his rod on the
ground, and thus transform it into a serpent, from which pseudo-serpent
Moses at first fled in fear, but on his taking it by the tail it resumed
its original shape. Moses, with even other wonders at command, still
hesitated; he had an impediment in his speech. God cured this by the
appointment of Aaron, who was eloquent, to aid his brother. God directed
Moses to return to Egypt, but his parting words must somewhat have
damped the future legislator’s hope of any speedy or successful ending
to his mission. God said, “I will harden Pharaoh’s heart that he
shall not let the people go.” On the journey back to Egypt God met
Moses “by the way in the inn, and sought to kill him.” I am ignorant
as to the causes which prevented the omnipotent Deity from carrying
out his intention; the text does not explain the matter, and I am not
a bishop or a D.D., and I do not therefore feel justified in putting
my assumptions in place of God’s revelation. Moses and Aaron went to
Pharaoh, and asked that the Jews might be permitted to go three days’
journey in the wilderness; but the King of Egypt not only refused their
request, but gave them additional tasks, and in consequence Moses and
Aaron went again to the Lord, who told them, “I appeared unto Abraham,
unto Isaac, and unto Jacob by the name of God Almighty; but by my name
Jehovah was I not known unto them.” Whether God had forgotten that
the name Jehovah was known to Abraham, or whether he was here deceiving
Moses and Aaron, are points the solution of which I leave to the
faithful referring them to the fact that Abraham called a place (Genesis
xxii, 14) Jehovah-Jireh. After this Moses and Aaron again went to
Pharaoh and worked wonderfully in his presence. Thaumaturgy is coming
into fashion again, but the exploits of Moses far exceeded any of those
performed by Mr. Home or the Davenport Brothers. Aaron flung down his
rod, and it became a serpent; the Egyptian magicians flung down their
rods, which became serpents also; but the rod of Aaron, as though it had
been a Jew money-lender or a tithe collecting parson, swallowed up these
miraculous competitors, and the Jewish leaders could afford to laugh
at their defeated rival conjurors. Moses and Aaron carried on the
miracle-working for some time. All the water of the land of Egypt
was turned by them into blood, but the magicians did so with their
enchantments, and it had no effect on Pharaoh. Then showers of frogs, at
the instance of Aaron, covered the land of Egypt; but the Egyptians did
so with their enchantments, and frogs abounded still more plentifully.
The Jews next tried their hands at the production of lice, and here—to
the glory of God be it said—the infidel Egyptians failed to imitate
them. It is written that “cleanliness is next to godliness,” but we
cannot help thinking that godliness must have been far from cleanliness
when the former so soon resulted in lice. The magicians were now
entirely discomfited. The preceding wonders seem to have affected all
the land of Egypt; but in the next miracle the swarms of flies sent were
confined to Egyptians only, and were not extended to Goshen, in which
the Israelites dwelt.

The next plague in connection with the ministration of Moses and Aaron
was that “all the cattle of Egypt died.” After “all the cattle”
were dead, a boil was sent, breaking forth with blains upon man and
beast. This failing in effect, Moses afterwards stretched forth his hand
and smote “both man and beast” with hail, then covered the land with
locusts, and followed this with a thick darkness throughout the land—a
darkness which *might* have been felt. Whether it was felt is a matter
on which I am unable to pass an opinion. After this, the Egyptians being
terrified by the destruction of their first-born children, the Jews,
at the instance of Moses, borrowed of the Egyptians jewels of silver,
jewels of gold, and raiment; and they spoiled the Egyptians. The fact
is, that the Egyptians were in the same position as the payers of
church rates, tithes, vicars’ rates, and Easter dues: they lent to
the Lord’s people, who are good borrowers, but slow when repayment is
required. They prefer promising you a crown of glory to paying you at
once five shillings in silver. Moses led the Jews through the Red Sea,
which proved a ready means of escape, as may be easily read in Exodus,
which says that the Lord “made the sea dry land” for the Israelites,
and afterwards not only overwhelmed in it the Egyptians who sought to
follow them, but, as Josephus tells us, the current of the sea actually
carried to the camp of the Hebrews the arms of the Egyptians, so that
the wandering Jews might not be destitute of weapons. After this the
Israelites were led by Moses into Shur, where they were without water
for three days, and the water they afterwards found was too bitter to
drink until a tree had been cast into the well. The Israelites were then
fed with manna, which, when gathered on Friday, kept for the Sabbath,
but rotted if kept from one week day to another. The people grew tired
of eating manna, and complained, and God sent fire amongst them and
burned them up in the uttermost parts of the camp; and after this the
people wept and said, “Who shall give us flesh to eat? We remember the
fish we did eat in Egypt freely; the cucumbers and the melons and the
leeks and the onions and the garlic; but now there is nothing at all
beside this manna before our eyes.” This angered the Lord, and he gave
them a feast of quails, and while the flesh was yet between their teeth,
ere it was chewed, the anger of the Lord was kindled, and he smote the
Jewish people with a very great plague (Numbers, ix). The people again
in Rephidim were without water, and Moses therefore smote the Rock of
Horeb with his rod, and water came out of the rock. At Rephidim the
Amalekites and the Jews fought together, and while they fought Moses,
like a prudent general, went to the top of a hill, accompanied by Aaron
and Hur, and it came to pass that when Moses held up his hands Israel
prevailed, and when he let down his hands Amalek prevailed. But Moses’
hands were heavy, and they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat
thereon, and Aaron and Hur stayed up his hands, the one on the one side
and the other on the other side, and his hands were steady until the
going down of the sun, and Joshua discomfited Amalek, and his people
with the edge of the sword. How the true believer ought to rejoice
that the stone was so convenient, as otherwise the Jews might have been
slaughtered, and there might have been no royal line of David, no Jesus,
no Christianity. That stone should be more valued than the precious
black stone of the Moslem; it is the corner-stone of the system, the
stone which supported the Mosaic rule. God is everywhere, but Moses went
up unto him, and the Lord called to him out of a mountain and came
to him in a thick cloud, and descended on Mount Sinai in a fire, in
consequence of which the mountain smoked, and the Lord came down upon
the top of the mountain and called Moses up to him; and then the Lord
gave Moses the Ten Commandments, and also those precepts which follow,
in which Jews are permitted to buy their fellow-countrymen for six
years, and in which it is provided that, if the slave-master shall give
his six-year slave a wife, and she bear him sons or daughters, that
the wife and the children shall be the property of her master. In these
precepts it is also permitted that a man may sell his own daughter for
the most base purposes. Also that a master may beat his slave, so that
if he do not die until a few days after the ill-treatment, the master
shall escape justice because the slave is his money. Also that Jews may
buy strangers and keep them as slaves for ever. While Moses was up in
the mount the people clamoured for Aaron to make them gods. Moses had
stopped away so long that the people gave him up for lost. Aaron, whose
duty it was to have pacified and restrained them, and to have kept them
in the right faith, did nothing of the kind. He induced them to bring
all their gold, and then made it into a calf, before which he built an
altar, and then proclaimed a feast. Manners and customs change. In those
days the Jews did see the God that Aaron took their gold for, but now
the priests take the people’s gold, and the poor contributors do not
even see a calf for their pains, unless indeed they are near a mirror
at the time when they are making their voluntary contributions. And the
Lord told Moses what happened, and said, “I have seen this people, and
behold it is a stiffnecked people. Now, therefore, let me alone that my
wrath may wax hot against them, and that I may consume them.”
Moses would not comply with God’s request, but remonstrated, and
expostulated, and begged him not to afford the Egyptians an opportunity
of speaking against him. Moses succeeded in changing the unchangeable,
and the Lord repented of the evil which he thought to do unto his
people.

Although Moses would not let God’s “wrath wax hot” his own
“anger waxed hot,” and he broke, in his rage, the two tables of
stone which God had given him, and on which the Lord had graven and
written with his own finger. We have now no means of knowing in what
language God wrote, or whether Moses afterwards took any pains to rivet
together the broken pieces. It is almost to be wondered at that the
Christian Evidence Societies have not sent missionaries to search for
these pieces of the tables, which may even yet remain beneath the mount.
Moses took the calf which they had made and burned it with fire and
ground it to powder, and strewed it upon water and made the children of
Israel drink of it. After this Moses armed the priests and killed 3,000
Jews, “and the Lord plagued the people because they had made the calf
which Aaron had made.” (Exodus xxxii, 35) Moses afterwards pitched
the tabernacle without the camp; and the cloudy pillar in which the Lord
went, descended and stood at the door of the tabernacle; and the Lord
talked to Moses “face to face, as a man would to his friend.”
(Exodus xxxiii, 11) And the Lord then told Moses, “Thou canst not see
my face, for there shall no man see me and live.” (Exodus xxxiii,
20) Before this Moses and Aaron and Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of
the elders of Israel, “saw the God of Israel, and there was under his
feet, as it were, a paved work of sapphire stone,.. and upon the nobles
of the children of Israel he laid not his hand; also they saw God, and
did eat and drink.” (Exodus xxix, 9)

Aaron, the brother of Moses, died under very strange circumstances. The
Lord said unto Moses, “Strip Aaron of his garments and put them upon
Eleazar, his son, and Aaron shall be gathered unto his people and shall
die there.” And Moses did as the Lord commanded, and Aaron died there
on the top of the mount, where Moses had taken him. There does not
appear to have been any coroner’s inquest in the time of Aaron, and
the suspicious circumstances of the death of the brother of Moses have
been passed over by the faithful.

When Moses was leading the Israelites near Moab, Balak the King of the
Moabites sent to Balaam in order to get Balaam to curse the Jews. When
Balak’s messengers were with Balaam, God came to Balaam also, and
asked what men they were. Of course God knew, but he inquired for his
own wise purposes, and Balaam told him truthfully. God ordered Balaam
not to curse the Jews, and therefore the latter refused, and sent the
Moabitish messengers away. Then Balak sent again high and mighty princes
under whose influence Balaam went mounted on an ass, and God’s anger
was kindled against Balaam, and he sent an angel to stop him by the way;
but the angel did not understand his business well, and the ass first
ran into a field, and then close against the wall, and it was not until
the angel removed to a narrower place that he succeeded in stopping the
donkey; and when the ass saw the angel she fell down. Balaam did not
see the angel at first; and, indeed, we may take it as a fact of history
that asses have always been the most ready to perceive angels.

Moses may have been a great author, but we have little means of
ascertaining what he wrote in the present day. Divines talk of Genesis
to Deuteronomy as the five books of Moses, but Eusebius, in the fourth
century, attributed them to Ezra, and Saint Chrysostom says that the
name of Moses has been affixed to the books without authority, by
persons living long after him. It is quite certain that if Moses lived
3,300 years ago, he did not write in square letter Hebrew, and this
because the character has not existed so long. It is indeed doubtful if
it can be carried back 2,000 years. The ancient Hebrew character,
though probably older than this, yet is comparatively modern amongst the
ancient languages of the earth.

It is urged by orthodox chronologists that Moses was born about 1450
B.C., and that the Exodus took place about 1491 B.C. Unfortunately
“there are no recorded dates in the Jewish Scriptures that are
trustworthy.” Moses, or the Hebrews, not being mentioned upon Egyptian
monuments from the twelfth to the seventeenth century B.C. inclusive,
and never being alluded to by any extant writer who lived prior to the
Septuagint translation at Alexandria (commencing in the third century
B.C.), there are no extraneous aids, from sources alien to the Jewish
Books, through which any information, worthy of historical acceptance,
can be gathered elsewhere about him or them. [33]_

.. [33] G.R. Gliddon’s Types of Mankind: Mankind’s Chronology, p 711

Moses died in the land of Moab when he was 120 years of age. The Lord
buried Moses in a valley of Moab, over against Bethpeor, but no man
knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day. Josephus says that “a cloud
came over him on the sudden and he disappeared in a certain valley.”
The devil disputed about the body of Moses, contending with the
Archangel Michael (Jude, 9); but whether the devil or the angel had the
best of the discussion, the Bible does not tell us.

De Beauvoir Priaulx, [34]_ looking at Moses as a counsellor, leader, and
legislator, says:—“Invested with this high authority, he announced
to the Jews their future religion, and announced it to them as a state
religion, and as framed for a particular state, and that state only.
He gave this religion, moreover, a creed so narrow and negative—he
limited it to objects so purely temporal, he crowded it with observances
so entirely ceremonial or national—that we find it difficult to
determine whether Moses merely established this religion in order
that by a community of worship he might induce in the tribe-divided
Israelites that community of sentiment which would constitute them a
nation; or, whether he only roused them to a sense of their national
dignity, in the hope that they might then more faithfully perform the
duties of priests and servants of Jehovah. In other words, we hesitate
to decide whether in the mind of Moses the state was subservient to the
purposes of religion, or religion to the purposes of state.”

.. [34] Questiones Mosaicæ, p. 438.

The same writer observes [35]_ that, according to the Jewish writings,
Moses “is the friend and favourite of the Deity. He is one whose
prayers and wishes, the Deity hastens to fulfil, one to whom the Deity
makes known his designs. The relations between God and the prophet are
most intimate. God does not disdain to answer the questions of Moses, to
remove his doubts, and even occasionally to receive his suggestions,
and to act upon them even in opposition to his own pre-determined
decrees.”

.. [35] p. 418.




.. clearpage::

NEW LIFE OF DAVID
=================

.. dropcap:: I IN


IN compiling a biographical account of any ancient personage,
impediments often arise from the uncertainty, party bias, and prejudiced
coloring of the various traditions out of which, the biography is
collected. Here no such obstacle is met with, no such bias can be
imagined, for, in giving the life of David, we extract it from an
all-wise God’s perfect and infallible revelation to man, and thus are
enabled to present it to our readers free from any doubt, uncertainty,
or difficulty. There is perhaps the fear that the manner of this brief
sketch may be adjudged to be within the operation of such common law as
wisely protects the career of the saints from mere sinful common-sense
criticism; but as the matter is derived from the authorised version for
which England is indebted to James, of royal and pious memory, this
new life of David may be safely left to the impartial judgment of Mr.
Justice North, aided by the charitable and pious counsel of Sir Hardinge
Giffard. The latter, who has had more than one criminal client for whom
he has most ably pleaded, might be relied on to make out a strong, if
not a good, case for punishing any one who is unfair to the man after
God’s own heart. Mr. Justice Stephen has furnished me with some slight
guide in his notice of Voltaire’s play called “David:”—

“It constitutes, perhaps, the bitterest attack on David’s character
ever devised by the wit of man, but the effect is produced almost
exclusively by the juxtaposition, with hardly any alteration, of a
number of texts from different parts of David’s history. It would be a
practical impossibility to charge a jury in such a case, so as to embody
Lord Coleridge’s view of the law. The judge would have to say: ‘It
is lawful to say that David was a murderer, an adulterer, a
treacherous tyrant who passed his last moments in giving directions for
assassinations; but you must observe the decencies of controversy.
You must not arrange your facts in such a way as to mix ridicule with
indignation, or to convey too striking a contrast between the solemn
character of the documents from which the extracts are made, and the
nature of the extracts themselves, and of the facts to which they
relate.’”

It is in the spirit of this paragraph that I have penned the present
life.

The father of David was Jesse, an Ephrathite of Bethlehem Judah, who had
either eight sons, (1 Samuel xvi, 10-11, and xvii, 12), or only seven
(1 Chronicles, ii, 13-15), and David was either the eighth son or the
seventh. Some may think this a difficulty, but such persons will only
be those who rely on their own intellectual faculties, or who have been
misled by arithmetic. If you are in any doubt, consult some qualified
divine, and he will explain to you that there is really no difference
between eight and seven when rightly understood with prayer and faith,
by the help of the spirit. Arithmetic is an utterly infidel acquirement,
and one which all true believers should eschew. The proposition that
three times one are one is a fundamental article of the Christian faith.
When young, David tended his father’s sheep, and apparently while
so doing he gained a character for being cunning in playing a mighty
valiant man, a man of war and prudent in matters. He obtained his
reputation as a soldier early and wonderfully, for he was “but a
youth;” and God’s most holy word asserts that when going to fight
with Goliath, he tried to walk in armor and could not, because he was
not accustomed to it (1 Samuel xvii, 39 *c.f.* Douay version). Samuel
shortly prior to this anointed David, who, while yet a lad, had been
selected by the Lord to be King of the Jews in place and stead of Saul,
who had wickedly disobeyed the commands of the Lord, who in his infinite
love and mercy had said (1 Sam. xv, 3): “Now go and smite Amalek, and
utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not; but slay both
man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass.”
Saul, however, behaved unrighteously, for he “spared Agag, and the
best of the sheep, and of the oxen, and of the fatlings, and the lambs,
and all that was good, and would not utterly destroy them.” This not
unnaturally irritated and annoyed the Lord. “Then came the word of the
Lord unto Samuel, saying, It repenteth me that I have set up Saul to be
King: for he is turned back from following me, and hath not performed my
commandments,” and the Lord bid Samuel fill a “horn with oil,”
and sent Samuel, who anointed David the son of Jesse in the midst of
his brethren, and the spirit of the Lord came upon David from that day
forward. If a man takes to spirits his life will probably be one of
vice, misery, and misfortune; and if spirits take to him, the result in
the end is nearly the same. Every evil deed which the Bible records as
having been done by David was after the spirit of the Lord had so
come upon him. Saul being King of Israel, an evil spirit from the Lord
troubled him. The devil has, it is said, no love for music, and Saul was
recommended to have David to play on a harp, in order that harmony might
drive this evil spirit back to the Lord who sent it. The Jew’s harp
was played successfully, and Saul was often relieved from the evil
spirit by David’s ministrations. There is nothing miraculous in this;
at the People’s Concerts many a working man has been relieved from
the “blue devils” by a stirring chorus, a merry song, or patriotic
anthem; and on the contrary many evil spirits have been aroused by the
most unmusical performances of the followers of General Booth. David was
appointed armor-bearer to the King; but curiously enough, this office
does not appear to have interfered with his duties as a shepherd;
indeed, the care of his father’s sheep took precedence over the care
of the king’s armor, and in the time of war he “went and returned
to feed his father’s sheep.” Perhaps his “prudence in matters”
induced him thus to take care of himself.

A Philistine, one Goliath of Gath (whose height was six cubits and a
span, or about nine feet six inches, at a low computation) had defied
the armies of Israel. This Goliath was (to use the vocabulary of a
reverend sporting correspondent to a certain religious newspaper) a
veritable champion of the heavy weights. He carried in all about two
cwt. of offensive and defensive armor upon his person, and his challenge
had great weight. None dared accept it amongst the soldiers of Saul
until the arrival of David, who brought some food for his brethren.
David volunteered to fight the giant, but Elias, David’s brother,
having mocked the presumption of the offer, and Saul objecting that
the venturesome lad was not competent to take part in a conflict so
dangerous, David related how he pursued a lion and a bear, how he caught
him by his beard and slew him. Which animal it was that David thus
bearded the text does not say. The Douay says it was “a lion or a
bear.” To those who have chased the king of the forests or studied the
habits of bears, the whole story looks, on an attentive reading, “very
like a whale.” David was permitted to fight the giant; his equipment
was simple, a sling and stones, and with these, from a distance, he slew
the giant. Some suggest that the weapon Goliath fell under was the long
bow. This suggestion is rendered probable by the book itself. One verse
says that David slew the Philistine with a stone, another verse says
that he slew him with the giant’s own sword, while in 2 Samuel xxi,
19, we are told that Goliath the Gittite was slain by Elhanan. Our
translators, who have great regard for our faith and more for their
pulpits, have kindly inserted the words “the brother of” before
Goliath. This emendation saves the true believer from the difficulty of
understanding how Goliath of Gath could have been killed by different
men at different times. David was previously well known to Saul, and
was much loved and favored by that monarch. He was also seen by the king
before he went forth to do battle with the gigantic Philistine. Yet
(as if to verify the proverb that kings have short memories for their
friends) Saul had forgotten his own armor-bearer and muchloved harpist,
and was obliged to ask Abner who David was. Abner, captain of the
king’s host, familiar with the person of the armor-bearer to the king,
of course knew David well; he therefore answered: “As thy soul liveth,
O king, I cannot tell.” David, having made known his parentage, was
appointed to high command by Saul; but the Jewish women over-praised
David, and thus displeased the king. One day the evil spirit from the
Lord came upon Saul and he prophesied. Men often talk great nonsense
under the influence of spirits, which they sometimes regret when sober.
It is, however, an interesting fact in ancient spiritualism to know that
Saul prophesied with a devil in him. Under the joint influence of the
devil and prophecy, Saul tried to kill David with a javelin, and this
was repeated, even after David had married the king’s daughter (whose
wedding he had secured by the slaughter of two hundred men). Saul then
asked his son and servants to kill David; but Jonathan, Saul’s son,
loved David, “And Saul hearkened unto the voice of Jonathan: and Saul
sware, As the Lord liveth, he shall not be slain.” It is interesting
as showing the utility of oaths that after having thus sworn Saul was
more determined than ever to kill David. To save his own life David fled
to Naioth, and Saul sent there messengers to arrest David; but three
sets of the king’s messengers having in turn all become prophets,
Saul went himself, and the spirit of the Lord came upon him also, and he
stripped off his clothes and prophesied as hard as the rest, “laying
down naked all that day and all that night.”

David lived in exile for some time in godly company, having collected
round him every one that was in distress, and every one that was in
debt, and every one that was discontented. Saul made several fruitless
attempts to effect his capture, with no better result than that he twice
placed himself in the power of David, who twice showed the mercy to
a cruel king which he never conceded to an unoffending people. David
having obtruded himself upon Achish, King of Gath, doubtful of his
safety, feigned madness to cover his retreat. He then lived a precarious
life, sometimes levying a species of black mail upon defenceless
farmers. Having applied to one farmer to make him some compensation
for permitting the farm to go unrobbed, and his demand not having been
complied with, David, who is a man after the heart of God of mercy,
immediately determined to murder the farmer and all his household for
their wicked reluctance in submitting to his extortions. The wife of
farmer Nabal compromised the matter. David “*accepted her person*”
and ten days after Nabal was found dead in his bed. David afterwards
went with 600 men and lived under the protection of Achish, King of
Gath, and while thus residing (being the anointed one of God who says,
“Thou shalt not steal”) he robbed the inhabitants of the surrounding
places. Being also obedient to the statute, “Thou shalt do no
murder,” he slaughtered, and left neither man nor woman alive to
report his robberies to King Achish; and as he “always walked in the
ways” of a God to whom “lying lips are an abomination,” he made
false reports to Achish in relation to his actions. Of course this
was all for the glory of God, whose ways are not as our ways. Soon
the Philistines were engaged in another of the constantly recurring
conflicts with the Israelites. Who offered them the help of himself
and hand? Who offered to make war on his own countrymen? David, the man
after God’s own heart, who obeyed God’s statutes and who walked
in his ways, to do only that which was right in the sight of God. The
Philistines rejected the traitor’s aid, and prevented the consummation
of this baseness. While David was making this unpatriotic proffer of his
services to the Philistines, his own city of Ziglag was captured by the
Amalekites, who were doubtless endeavoring to avenge some of the
most unjustifiable robberies and murders perpetrated by David and his
followers in their country. David’s own friends evidently thought that
this misfortune was a retribution for David’s crimes, for they spoke
of stoning him. The Amalekites had captured and carried off everything,
but they do not seem to have maltreated or killed any of their enemies.
David was less merciful. He pursued them, recaptured the spoil, and
spared not a man of them, save 400 who escaped on camels. In consequence
of the death of Saul, David was elevated to the throne of Judah, while
Ishbosheth, a son of Saul, was made king of Israel. But Ishbosheth
having been assassinated, David slew the assassins, when they, hoping
for reward, brought him the news, and he reigned ultimately over Israel
also.

As religious readers are doubtless aware, the Lord God of Israel, after
the time of Moses, usually dwelt on the top of an ark or box, between
two figures of gold; and on one occasion David made a journey with his
followers to Baal, to bring thence the ark of God. They placed it on
a new cart drawn by oxen. On the journey the oxen stumbled, and
consequently shook the cart. One of the drivers, whose name was Uzzah,
possibly fearing that God might be tumbled to the ground, took hold
of the ark, apparently in order to steady it, and prevent it from
overturning. God, who is a God of love, was much displeased that any one
should presume to do any such act of kindness, and killed Uzzah on the
spot as a punishment for his sin. This shows that if a man sees the
Church of God tumbling down, he should never try to prop it up; if it
be not strong enough to save itself, the sooner it falls the better
for humankind—that is, if they keep away from it while it is falling.
David was much displeased that the Lord had killed Uzzah; in fact, David
seems to have wished for a monopoly of slaughter, and always manifested
displeasure when any killing was done unauthorised by himself. Being
displeased, David would not take the ark to Jerusalem, but left it in
the house of Obed Edom; then, as the Lord proved more kind to Obed Edom
than he had done to Uzzah, David determined to bring the ark away, and
did so, dancing before the ark in a state of semi-nudity, for which he
was reproached by Michal. Lord Campbell’s Act is intended to hinder
the publication of indecencies, but the pages of the Book which the law
affirms to be God’s most holy word do not come within the scope of
the Act, and lovers of obscene language may therefore have legal
gratification so long as the Bible shall exist. The God of Israel, who
had been leading a wandering life for many years, and who had “walked
in a tent and in a tabernacle,” and “from tent to tent,” and
“from one tabernacle to another,” and “who had not dwelt in any
house” since the time that he brought the Israelites out of Egypt, was
offered “an house for him to dwell in,” but he declined to accept it
during the lifetime of David, although he promised to permit the son of
David to erect him such an abode. David being now a powerful monarch,
and having many wives and concubines, saw one day the beautiful wife of
one of his soldiers. To see with this licentious monarch was to crave
for the gratification of his lust. The husband Uriah was fighting for
the king, yet David was base enough to steal his wife’s virtue during
Uriah’s absence in the field of battle. “Thou shalt not commit
adultery” was one of the commandments, yet we are told by God of this
David, that he was one “who kept my commandments, and who followed me
with all his heart to do only that which was right in mine eyes” (1
Kings, xiv, 8). David having seduced the wife, sent for her husband,
wishing to make him condone his wife’s dishonor. In modern England
under a Stuart or a Brunswick, Uriah might have become a Marquis or
a Baron. Some hold that virtue in rags is less worth than vice when
coro-neted. Uriah would not be thus tricked, and David, the pious David,
coolly planned, and without mercy caused to be executed, the treacherous
murder of Uriah. God is all-just; and David having committed adultery
and murder, God punished and killed an innocent child, which had no part
or share in David’s crime, and never chose that it should be born from
the womb of Bathsheba. After this king David was even more cruel and
merciless than before. Previously he had systematically slaughtered
the inhabitants of Moab, now he sawed people with saws, cut them with
harrows and axes, and made them pass through brick-kilns. Yet of this
man, God said he “did that which was right in mine eyes.” So bad
a king, so treacherous a man, a lover so inconstant, a husband so
adulterous, was of course a bad father, having bad children. We are
little surprised, therefore, to read that his son Amnon robbed of her
virtue his own sister, David’s daughter Tamar, and that Am-non was
afterwards slain by his own brother, David’s son Absalom, and we are
scarcely astonished that Absalom himself, on the house-top, in the sight
of all Israel, should complete his father’s shame by an act worthy a
child of God’s select people. Yet these are God’s chosen race, and
this is the family of the man “who walked in God’s ways all the days
of his life.”

God, who is all-wise and all-just, and who is not a man that he should
repent, repented that he had made Saul king because Saul spared one man.
In the reign of David the same good God sent a famine for three years
on the descendants of Abraham, and upon being asked his reason for thus
starving his chosen ones, the reply of the Deity was that he sent
the famine on the subjects of David because Saul slew the Gibeonites.
Satisfactory reason!—because Oliver Cromwell slew the Royalists,
God will punish the subjects of Charles the Second. One reason is, to
profane eyes, equivalent to the other, but a bishop or even a rural dean
would soon show how remarkably God’s justice was manifested. David was
not behindhand in justice. He had sworn to Saul that he would not cut
off his seed—i.e., that he would not destroy Saul’s family. He
therefore took two of Saul’s sons, and five of Saul’s grandsons, and
gave them up to the Gibeonites, who hung them. Strangely wonderful
are the ways of the Lord! Saul slew the Gibeonites, therefore years
afterwards God starves Judah. The Gibeonites hang men who have nothing
to do with the crime of Saul, except that they are his descendants, and
then we are told “the Lord was intreated for the land.” The anger
of the Lord being kindled against Israel, he, wanting some excuse for
punishing the descendants of Jacob, moved David to number his people.
The Chronicles say that the tempter was Satan, and pious people may thus
learn what there is of distinction between God and Devil. Philosophers
would urge that both personifications are founded in the ignorance
of the masses, and the continuance of the myth will cease with the
credulousness of the people. David caused a census to be taken of the
tribes of Israel and Judah. There is a trival disagreement of about
270,000 soldiers between Samuel and Chronicles, but readers must not
allow so slight an inaccuracy as this to stand between them and heaven.
What are 270,000 men when looked at prayerfully? That any doubt should
arise is to a devout mind at the same time profane and preposterous.
Statisticians suggest that 1,570,000 soldiers form a larger army than
the Jews are likely to have possessed; but if God is omnipotent, there
is no reason to limit his power of miraculously increasing or decreasing
the armament of the Jewish nation. David, it seems, did wrong in
numbering his people, but we are never told that he did wrong in robbing
or murdering their neighbors, or in pillaging peaceful agriculturists.
David said: “I have sinned,” and for this an all-merciful God
brought a pestilence on the people, and murdered 70,000 Israelites, for
an offence which their ruler had committed. The angel who was engaged
in this terrible slaughter stood somewhere between heaven and earth, and
stretched forth his hand with a drawn sword to destroy Jerusalem itself;
but even the bloodthirsty Deity of the Bible “repented him of the
evil,” and said to the angel: “It is enough.” Many volumes might
be written to answer the enquiries—where did the angel stand, and on
what? Of what metal was the sword, and where was it made? As it was a
drawn one, where was the scabbard? and did the angel wear a sword-belt?
Examined in a pious frame of mind, much holy instruction may be derived
from the attempt to solve these solemn problems.

David now grows old and weak, and at last his death-hour comes. Oh! for
the dying words of the Psalmist! What pious instruction shall we derive
from the death-bed scene of the man after God’s own heart! Listen to
the last words of Judah’s expiring monarch. You who have been content
with the pious frauds and forgeries perpetrated with reference to
the death-beds and dying words of the great, the generous, the witty
Voltaire; the manly, the self-denying, the incorruptible Thomas Paine;
the humane, simple, child-like man, yet mighty poet, Shelley—you who
have turned away from these with unwarranted horror—come with me to
the death-couch of the special favorite of God. Bathsheba’s child
stands by his side. Does any thought of the murdered Uriah rack old
David’s brain, or has a tardy repentance effaced the bloody stain from
the pages of his memory? What does the dying David say? Does he talk of
cherubs, angels and heavenly choirs? Nay, none of these things passes
his lips. Does he make a confession of his crime-stained life, and beg
his son to be a better king, a truer man, a more honest citizen, a
wiser father? Nay, not so—no word of sorrow, no sign of regret, no
expression of remorse or repentance escapes his lips. What does
the dying David say? This foul monster whom God has made king; this
redhanded robber, whose life has been guarded by “our Father which art
in Heaven;” this perjured king, whose lying lips have found favor
in the sight of God, and who, when he dies, is safe for Heaven. It is
written: “There shall be more joy in heaven before God over one sinner
that repenteth than over ninety and nine righteous men.” Does David
repent? Nay, like the ravenous wolf, which, tasting blood, is made more
eager for the prey, he too yearns for blood; and with his dying breath
begs his son to bring the grey hairs of two old men down to the grave
with blood. And this is God’s anointed king, the chief one of God’s
chosen people.

The learned and pious Puffendorf explains that David having only sworn
not himself to kill Shimei (1 Kings, ii, 8) there was no perjury on the
part of David in persuading Solomon to contrive the killing from which
David had sworn to personally abstain.

David is alleged to have written several Psalms, but of this there is
little evidence beyond pious assertion. In one of these the psalmist
addresses God in pugilistic phraseology, praising Deity that he had
smitten all his enemies on the cheek-bone, and broken the teeth of the
ungodly. In these days when “muscular Christianity” is not without
advocates, the metaphor which presents God as a sort of magnificent
Benicia Boy may find many admirers. In the eighteenth Psalm, David
describes God as with “smoke coming out of his nostrils and fire out
of his mouth,” by which “coals were kindled.” He represents God
as coming down from heaven, and says: “he rode upon a cherub.”
The learned Parkhurst gives a likeness of a one-legged, four-winged,
four-faced animal, part lion, part bull, part eagle, part man, and if
a cloven foot be any criterion, part devil also. This description, if
correct, will give some idea to the faithful of the wonderful character
of the equestrian feats of Deity. In addition to a cherub, God has other
means of conveyance at his disposal, if David be not in error when he
says that the chariots of the Lord are 20,000.

In Psalm xxvi the writer adds hypocrisy in addition to his other vices.
He has the impudence to tell God that he has been a man of integrity
and truth, and that he has avoided evil-doers, although, if we are to
believe Psalm xxxviii, the hypocrite must have already been subject to
a loathsome disease—a penalty consequent on his licentiousness and
criminality. In another Psalm, David the liar tells God that “he that
telleth lies shall not tarry in my sight.” To understand David’s
pious nature we must study his prayer to God against an enemy (Psalm
cix, 6-14): “Set thou a wicked man over him; and let Satan stand at
his right hand. When he shall be judged, let him be condemned: and let
his prayer become sin. Let his days be few: and let another take his
office. Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow. Let his
children be continually vagabonds, and beg: let them seek their bread
also out of their desolate places. Let the extortioner catch all that he
hath; and let the strangers spoil his labor. Let there be none to
extend mercy unto him: neither let there be any to favor his fatherless
children. Let his posterity be cut off; and in the generation following
let their name be blotted out. Let the iniquity of his fathers be
remembered with the Lord; and let not the sin of his mother be blotted
out.”

A full consideration of the life of David must give great help to the
orthodox in promoting and sustaining faith. While spoken of by Deity
as obeying all the statutes and keeping all the commandments, we are
astonished to find that murder, theft, lying, adultery, licentiousness,
and treachery are amongst the crimes which may be laid to his charge.
David was a liar, God is a God of truth; David was merciless, God is
merciful, and of long suffering; David was a thief, God says: “Thou
shalt not steal;” David was a murderer, God says: “Thou shalt do no
murder; “David took the wife of Uriah, and “accepted” the wife of
Nabal, God says: “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.” Yet,
notwithstanding all these things, David was the man after God’s own
heart!

Had this Jewish monarch any redeeming traits in his character? Was he
a good citizen? If so, the Bible has carefully concealed every action
which would entitle him to such an appellation. Was he a kind and
constant husband? To whom? To which of his many wives and mistresses?
Was he grateful to those who aided him in his hour of need? Rather, like
the serpent which, half-frozen by the wayside, is warmed into new life
in the traveller’s breast, and then treacherously stings his succorer
with his poisoned fangs, so David robbed and murdered the friends and
allies of the King of Gath, who afforded him protection against the
pursuit of Saul. Does his patriotism outshine his many vices? Does his
love of country efface his many misdoings? Not even this. David was a
heartless traitor who volunteered to serve against his own countrymen,
and would have done so had not the Philistines rejected his treacherous
help. Was he a good king? So say the priesthood now; but where is the
evidence of his virtue? His crimes brought plague and pestilence on his
subjects, and his reign is a continued succession of wars, revolts, and
assassinations, plottings and counterplots.

The life of David is a dark blot on the page of human history, fit in
companionship for the biographies of Constantine the Great and Henry
VIII; but it is through David that the genealogies of Jesus are traced,
and without David there would be no Christian faith.


.. clearpage::

A NEW LIFE OF JONAH
===================

.. dropcap:: J JONAH


JONAH was the son of Amittai of Gath-hepher, which place divines
identify with Gittah-hepher of the Children of Zebulun. Dr. Inman says
that Gath-hepher means “the village of the Cow’s tail,” but he
also says it means “the Heifer’s trough.” Gesenius translates
it “the wine-press of the well.” Bible Dictionaries say that
Gath-hepher is the same as el-Meshhad, and affirm that the tomb of Jonah
was “long shown on a rocky hill near the town.” The blood of Saint
Januarius is shown in Naples to this day. Nothing is known of the sex
or life of Amittai, except that Jonah was his or her son, and that
Gath-hepher was her or his place of residence; but to a true believer
these two facts, even though standing utterly alone, will be pregnant
with instruction. To the sceptic and railer, Amittai is as an unknown
quantity in an algebraic problem. Jonah was not a very common proper
name, [--Hebrew--] means a dove, and some derive it from the Arabic
root—to be weak, gentle:—so that one meaning of Jonah, according
to Gesenius, would be feeble, gentle bird. The Prophet Jonah was by no
means a feeble, gentle bird; he was rather a bird of pray. Certainly it
was his intention to become a bird of passage. The date of the birth of
Jonah is not given; the margin of my Bible dates the book of Jonah B.C.
cir. 862, and my Bible Dictionary fixes the date of the matter to which
the book relates at “about B.C. 830.” If from any reason either
of these dates should be disagreeable to the reader, he can choose any
other date without fear of anachronism. Jonah was a prophet; so is Dr.
Cumming, so is Brigham Young; there is no evidence that Jonah followed
any other profession. Jonah’s profit probably hardly equalled that
realised by the Archbishop of Canterbury, but he had money enough to
pay his fare “from the presence of the Lord” to Tarshish. The exact
distance of this voyage may be easily calculated by remembering that the
Lord is omnipresent, and then measuring from his boundary to Tarshish.
The fare may be worked out by the differential calculus after evening
prayer.

The word of the Lord came to Jonah; when or how the word came the text
does not record, and to any devout mind it is enough to know that it
came. The first time in the world’s history that the word of the Lord
ever came to anybody, may be taken to be when Adam and Eve “heard the
voice of the Lord” “walking in the Garden” of Eden “in the cool
of the day.” Between the time of Adam and Jonah a long period had
elapsed; but human nature, having had many prophets, was very wicked.
The Lord wanted Jonah to go with a message to Nineveh. Nineveh was
apparently a city of three days’ journey in size. Allowing twenty
miles for each day, this would make the city about 60 miles across, or
about 180 miles in circumference. Some faint idea may be formed of this
vast city, by adding together London, Paris, and New York, and then
throwing in Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Marseilles,
Naples, and Spurgeon’s Tabernacle. Jonah knowing that the Lord did not
always carry out his threats or perform his promises, did not wish to go
to Nineveh, and “rose up to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the
Lord.” The Tarshish for which Jonah intended his flight was either in
Spain or India or elsewhere. I am inclined, after deep reflection and
examination of the best authorities, to give the preference to the
third-named locality. When Cain went “out of the presence of the
Lord,” he went into the Land of Nod, but whether Tarshish is in that
or some other country there is no evidence to determine. To get to
Tarshish, Jonah—instead of going to the port of Tyre, which was the
nearest to his reputed dwelling, and by far the most commodious—went
to the more distant and less convenient port of Joppa, where he found
a ship going to Tarshish; “so he paid the fare thereof, and went
down into it, to go with them into Tarshish, from the presence of the
Lord.” Jonah was, however, very shortsighted. Just as in the old Greek
mythology, winds and waves are made warriors for the gods, so the God
of the Hebrews “sent out a great wind into the sea, and there was a
mighty tempest in the sea, so that the ship was like to be broken.”
Luckily she was not an old leaky vessel, overladen and heavily insured;
one which the sanctimonious owners desired to see at the bottom, and
which the captain did not care to save. Christianity and civilisation
were yet to bring forth that glorious resultant, a pious English
shipowner, with a newly-painted, but, under the paint, a worn and
rusty iron vessel, long abandoned as unfit, but now fresh-named, and
so insured that Davy Jones’s locker becomes the most welcome haven of
refuge. “The mariners were afraid... and cast forth the wares” into
the sea to lighten the ship. But where was Jonah during this noise? Men
trampling on deck, hoarse and harsh words of command, and the fury of
the storm troubled not our prophet. Sea-sickness, which spares not the
most pious, had no effect upon him. “Jonah was gone down into the
sides of the ship, and he lay and was fast asleep.” The battering
of the waves against the sides disturbed not his devout slumbers; the
creaking of the vessel’s timbers spoiled not his repose. Despite the
pitching and rolling of the vessel Jonah “was fast asleep.” Had he
been in the comfortable berth of a Cunarder, it would not have been
easy to sleep through such a storm. Had he been in the hold of a smaller
vessel on the Bay of Biscay, finding himself now with his head lower
than his heels, and now with his body playing hide and seek amongst
loose articles of cargo, it would have required great absence of mind to
prevent waking. Had he only been on an Irish steamer carrying cattle on
deck, between Bristol and Cork, with a portion of the bulwarks washed
away, and a squad of recruits “who cried every man to his God,”
he would have found the calmness of undisturbed slumber difficult.
But Jonah was on board the Joppa and Tarshish boat, and he “was fast
asleep.” As the crew understood the theory of storms, they of course
knew that when there is a tempest at sea it is sent by God, because he
is offended by some one on board the vessel. Modern scientists scout
this notion, and pretend to track storm waves across the world, and to
affix storm signals in order to warn mariners. They actually profess to
predict atmospheric changes, and to explain how such changes take place.
Church clergymen know how futile science is, and how potent prayers are,
for vessels at sea. The men on the Joppa vessel said, “every one to
his fellow, Come, and lets us cast lots, that we may know for whose
cause this evil is upon us. So they cast lots, and the lot fell upon
Jonah.” It is always a grave question in sacred metaphysics as to
whether God directed Jonah’s lot, and, if yes, whether the casting of
lots is analogous to playing with loaded dice. The Bishop of Lincoln,
who understands how far cremation may render resurrection awkward,
is the only divine capable of thoroughly resolving this problem. For
ordinary Christians it is enough to know that the lot fell upon Jonah.

Before the crew commenced casting lots to find out Jonah, they had cast
lots of their wares overboard, so that when the lot fell on Jonah it was
much lighter than it would have been had the lot fallen upon him during
his sleep. Still, if not stunned by the lot which fell upon him, he
stood convicted as the cause of the tempest:—and the crew “Then said
they unto him, Tell us, we pray thee, for whose cause this evil is
upon us; What is thine occupation? and whence comest thou? what is thy
country? and of what people art thou? And he said unto them, I am an
Hebrew; and I fear the Lord, the God of heaven, which hath made the sea
and the dry land. Then were the men exceedingly afraid, and said unto
him, Why hast thou done this? For the men knew that he fled from the
presence of the Lord, because he had told them. Then said they unto him,
What shall we do unto thee, that the sea may be calm unto us? for the
sea wrought, and was tempestuous. And he said unto them, Take me up,
and cast me forth into the sea; so shall the sea be calm unto you; for
I know that for my sake this great tempest is upon you. Nevertheless the
men rowed hard to bring it to the land; but they could not; for the sea
wrought, and was tempestuous against them. Wherefore they cried unto
the Lord, and said, We beseech thee, O Lord, we beseech thee, let us not
perish for this man’s life, and lay not upon us innocent blood: for
thou, O Lord, hast done as it pleased thee. So they took up Jonah, and
cast him forth into the sea: and the sea ceased from her raging.” No
pen can improve this story; it is so simple, so natural, so child-like.
Every one has heard of casting oil on troubled waters. It stands to
reason that a fat prophet would produce the same effect. What a striking
illustration of the power of faith it will be when bishops leave their
own sees in order to be in readiness to calm an ocean storm. Or if not
a bishop, at least a curate; and even a lean curate; for with sea air,
a ravenous appetite, and a White Star Line cabin bill of fare of
breakfast, lunch, dinner, tea, and supper, fatness would soon be arrived
at. In the interests of science I should like to see an episcopal
prophet occasionally thrown overboard during a storm. The experiment
must in any case be advantageous to humanity; should the tempest be
stilled, then the ocean would be indeed the broad way, not leading to
destruction; should the storm not be conquered, there would even then be
promotion in the Church, and happiness to many at the mere cost of
one bishop. “Now the Lord had prepared a great fish to swallow up
Jonah.” Jesus says the fish was a whale. A whale would have needed
preparation, and the statement has an air of vraisemblance. The fish
did swallow Jonah. “Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days
and three nights.” Poor Jonah! and poor fish! Poor Jonah, for it
can scarcely be pleasant, even if you escape suffocation, to be in a
fish’s belly with too much to drink, and no room to swallow, and
your solids either raw or too much done. Poor fish! for even after
preparation it must be disagreeable to have one’s poor stomach turned
into a sort of prayer meeting. Jonah was taken in; but the fish found
that taking in a parson was a feat neither easy nor healthy. After Jonah
had uttered guttural sounds from inside the fish’s belly for three
days and three nights, the Lord spake unto the fish, and the fish was
sick of Jonah, “and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry land.” Some
sceptics urged that a whale could not have swallowed Jonah; but once,
at Tod-morden, a Church of England clergyman, who had been curate to the
Reverend Charles Kingsley, got rid of this as an objection by assuring
us that he should have equally believed the story had it stated that
Jonah had swallowed the whale. And then the word of the Lord came to
Jonah once more, and this time Jonah obeyed. He was to take God’s
message to the citizens of Nineveh. “And Jonah began to enter into
the city a day’s journey, and he cried, and said, Yet forty days,
and Nineveh shall be overthrown.” Should Jonah come to London in the
present day with a similar message, he would meet scant courtesy from
our clergy. A foreigner, and using a strange tongue, he would probably
find himself in Colney Hatch or Hanwell. To come to England in the name
of Mahomet or Buddha, or Osiris or Jupiter, would have little effect.
But the Ninevites do not seem even to have raised the question that the
God of the Hebrews was not their God. They listened to Jonah, and
“the people of Nineveh believed God, and proclaimed a fast, and put on
sackcloth, from the greatest of them even to the least of them. For word
came unto the king of Nineveh, and he arose from his throne, and he laid
his robe from him, and covered him with sackcloth, and sat in ashes.
And he caused it to be proclaimed and published through Nineveh by the
decree of the king and his nobles, saying, Let neither man nor beast,
herd nor flock, taste any thing: let them not feed, nor drink water: but
let man and beast be covered with sackcloth, and cry mightily unto God:
yea, let them turn every one from his evil way, and from the violence
that is in their hands.” The consumption of sackcloth for covering
every man and beast must have been rather large, and the Nineveh
sackcloth manufacturers must have had enormous stocks on hand to supply
the sudden demand. The city article of the *Nineveh Times*, if such a
paper existed, would probably have described “sackcloth firm, with
a tendency to rise.” Man and beast, all dressed in or covered with
sackcloth! It would be sometimes difficult to distinguish a Ninevite
man from a Ninevite beast, the dress being similar for all. This is a
difficulty, however, other nations have shared with the Ninevites. Men
and women may sometimes be seen in London dressed in broadcloth and
satins, and, though their clothing is distinguishable enough, their
conduct is sometimes so beastly that the naked beasts are the more
respectable.

Nineveh was frightened, and Nineveh moaned, and Nineveh determined to do
wrong no more. “And God saw their works, that they turned from their
evil way; and God repented of the evil that he had said that he would
do unto them; and he did it not.” God, the unchangeable, changed
his purpose, and spared the city, which in his infinite wisdom he
had doomed. “But it displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was very
angry.” It was enough to [vex] a saint to be sent to prophesy the
destruction of the city in six weeks, and then nothing at all to happen.
“And he prayed unto the Lord, and said, I pray thee, O Lord, was not
this my saying, when I was yet in my country? Therefore I fled before
unto Tarshish.” Jonah did not like to be a discredited prophet, and
cried, “Therefore now, O Lord, take, I beseech thee, my life from me;
for it is better for me to die than to live. Then said the Lord, Doest
thou well to be angry?” Jonah, knowing the Lord, was still curious and
uncertain as well as angry. He was a prophet and a sceptic. “So Jonah
went out of the city, and sat on the east side of the city, and there
made him a boot[h], and sat under it in the shadow, till he might see
what would become of the city. And the Lord God prepared a gourd, and
made it to come up over Jonah, that it might be a shadow over his head,
to deliver him from his grief. So Jonah was exceeding glad of the gourd.
But God prepared a worm when the morning rose the next day, and it smote
the gourd that it withered. And it came to pass, when the sun did arise,
that God prepared a vehement east wind; and the sun beat upon the head
of Jonah, that he fainted, and wished in himself to die, and said, It
is better for me to die than to live. And God said to Jonah, Doest thou
well to be angry for the gourd? And he said, I do well to be angry, even
unto death. Then said the Lord, Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the
which thou hast not laboured, neither madest it grow; which came up in
a night, and perished in a night: And should not I spare Nineveh, that
great city, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot
discern between their right hand and their left hand; and also much
cattle?” The Lord seems to have overlooked that Jonah had more pity on
himself than the gourd, whose only value to him was as a shade from the
sun. Jonah, too, might have reminded the Lord that there were more than
120,000 persons similarly situated at the deluge and at the slaughter
of the Midianites, and that the “much cattle” had never theretofore
been reckoned in the divine decrees of mercy.

Here ends the new life of Jonah. Of the prophet’s childhood we know
nothing; of his middle age no more than we have here related; of his old
age and death we have nothing to say. It is enough for good Christians
to know that “Jonah was three days and three nights in the whale’s
belly; so shall the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the
heart of the earth.” According to Jesus the story of Jonah is as true
as Gospel.


.. clearpage::

WHO WAS JESUS CHRIST?
=====================

.. dropcap:: M MANY


MANY persons will consider the question one to which the Gospels give a
sufficient answer, and that no further inquiry is necessary. But while
the general Christian body affirm that Jesus was God incarnate on earth,
the Unitarian Christians, less in numerical strength, but numbering a
large proportion of the more intelligent and humane, absolutely deny
his divinity; the Jews, of whom he is alleged to have been one, do not
believe in him at all; and the enormous majority of the inhabitants of
the earth have never accepted the Gospels. Even in the earliest ages of
the Christian Church heretics were found, amongst Christians themselves,
who denied that Jesus had ever existed in the flesh. Under these
circumstances the most pious should concede that it is well to prosecute
the inquiry to the uttermost, that their faith may rest on sure
foundations. The history of Jesus Christ is contained in four books or
gospels; outside these it cannot be pretended that there is any reliable
narrative of his life. We know not with any certainty, and have now no
means of knowing, when, where, or by whom these gospels were written.
The name at the head of each gospel affords no clue to the real writer.
Before A.D. 160, no author mentions any Gospels by Matthew, Mark, Luke,
or John, and there is no sufficient evidence to identify the Gospels we
have with even the writings to which Irenæus refers towards the close
of the second century. The Church has provided us with an author for
each Gospel, and some early Fathers have argued that there ought to be
four Gospels, because there are four seasons, four principal points to
the compass, and four corners to the earth. Bolder speculators affirm
twelve apostles because there are twelve signs of the Zodiac. With
regard to the Gospel first in order, divines disagree as to the language
in which it was written. Some allege that the original was in Hebrew,
others deny that our Greek version has any of the characters of a
translation.

We neither know the hour, nor day, nor month, nor year, of Jesus’s
birth; divines generally agree that he was not born on Christmas Day,
and yet on that day the anniversary of his birth is observed. The Oxford
Chronology places the matter in no clearer light, and more than thirty
learned authorities give a period of over seven years’ difference in
their reckoning. The place of his birth is also uncertain. The Jews, in
the presence of Jesus, reproached him that he ought to have been born at
Bethlehem, and he never replied, “I was born there.” (John vii, 41,
42, 52.)

Jesus was the son of David, the son of Abraham (Matthew i), from whom
his descent is traced through Isaac—born of Sarai (whom the writer
of the epistle to Galatians [iv, 24], says was a covenant and not a
woman)—and ultimately through Joseph, who was not only not his father,
but is not shown to have had any kind of relationship to him, and
through whom therefore the genealogy should not be traced. There are
two genealogies in the Gospels which contradict each other, and these
in part may be collated with the Old Testament genealogy, which differs
from both. The genealogy of Matthew is self-contradictory, counts
thirteen names as fourteen, and omits the names of three kings. Matthew
says Abiud was the son of Zorobabel (i, 13). Luke says Zorobabel’s
son Was Rhesa (iii, 27). The Old Testament contradicts both, and gives
Meshullam and Hananiah and Shelomith, their sister (1 Chron. iii, 19),
as the names of Zorobabel’s children. The reputed father of Jesus,
Joseph, had two fathers, one named Jacob, the other Heli. The divines
suggest that Heli was the father of Mary, by reading the word “Mary”
in Luke iii, 23, in lieu of “Joseph,” and the word “daughter”
in lieu of “son,” thus correcting the evident blunder made by
inspiration. The birth of Jesus was miraculously announced to Mary
and to Joseph by visits of an angel, but they so little regarded the
miraculous annunciation that they marvelled soon after at much less
wonderful things spoken by Simeon. Jesus was the son of God, or God
manifest in the flesh, and his birth was first discovered by some wise
men or astrologers, a class described in the Bible as an abomination in
God’s sight. These men saw his star in the East, but it did not tell
them much, for they were apparently obliged to ask information from
Herod the King. Herod in turn inquired of the chief priests and scribes;
and it is evident Jeremiah was right if he said, “The prophets
prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means,” for these
chief priests either misread the prophets, or misquoted the scripture
which is claimed to be a revelation from God, and invented a false
prophecy (Matthew ii, 5, 6, c.f. (Micah v, 2), by omitting a few words
from, and adding a few words to, a text until it suited their purpose.
The star—after the wise men knew where to go, and no longer required
its aid—led and went before them, until it came and stood over where
the young child was. This story will be better understood if the reader
will walk out some clear night, notice a star, and then try to fix
the one house it will be exactly over. The writer of the Third Gospel,
silent on the star story, speaks of an angel who tells some shepherds of
the miraculous; but this does not appear to have happened in the reign
of Herod. After the wise men had left Jesus, an angel warned Joseph to
flee with Jesus and Mary into Egypt; and Joseph did fly, and remained
there with the young child and his mother until the death of Herod; and
this it is alleged was done to fulfil a prophecy. The words (Hosea xi,
1) are not prophetic and have no reference whatever to Jesus. The Jesus
of the Third Gospel never went into Egypt at all in his childhood. When
Jesus began to be about thirty years of age, he was baptised by John
in the River Jordan. John, who knew him, according to the First Gospel,
forbade him directly he saw him; but, according to the Fourth Gospel, he
knew him not, and had, therefore, no occasion to forbid him. God is an
“invisible spirit,” whom no man hath seen (John i, 18), or can see
(Exodus xxxiii, 20); but the man John saw the spirit of God descending
like a dove. God is everywhere, but at that time was in heaven, from
whence he said, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
Although John heard this from God’s own mouth, he did not always act
as if he believed it, but some time after sent two of his disciples
to Jesus to inquire if he were really the Christ (Matthew xi, 2, 3).
Immediately after the baptism, Jesus was led up of the spirit into the
wilderness to be tempted of the Devil. Jesus fasted forty days and forty
nights, and in those days he did eat nothing. Moses twice fasted that
period. Such fasts are nearly miraculous. The modern fasting men, and
the Hindoo fasters, only show that under very abnormal conditions,
long abstinence from food is possible. Absolutely miraculous events
are events which never happened in the past, do not take place in the
present, and never will occur in the future. Jesus, it is said, was God,
and by his power as God fasted. On the hypothesis of his divinity, it
is difficult to understand how he became hungry. When hungry the Devil
tempted Jesus by offering him stones, and asking him to make them bread.
Stones offered to a hungry man for bread-making hardly afford a probable
temptation. Which temptation came next is a matter of doubt. Matthew and
Luke relate the story in different order. According to one, the Devil
next taketh Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple and tempts him to throw
himself to the bottom, by quoting Scripture that angels should bear him
in their arms. Jesus either disbelieved this Scripture, or remembered
that the Devil, like other pillars of the Church, grossly misquoted to
suit his purpose, and the temptation failed. The Devil then took Jesus
to an exceeding high mountain, from whence he showeth him all the
kingdoms of the world and the glory thereof, in a moment of time. It
is urged that this did not include a view of the antipodes, but only
referred to the kingdoms then known; even then it must have been a long
look from Judea to China. The mountain must have been very high—much
higher than the diameter of the earth. Origen, a learned and pious holy
father, suggests that no man in his senses will believe this to have
really happened. If Origen had to defend his language before a modern
judge of the type of Mr. Justice North, the Christian father would have
sore risk of Holloway Gaol. The Devil offered Jesus—who it is declared
was one with God, and therefore omnipotent—all the kingdoms of the
world, if he, Jesus the omnipotent God, would fall down and worship
his own creature the Devil. Some object that if God is the creator and
omnipotent ruler of the world, then the Devil would have no control over
the kingdoms of the world, and that the offer could be no temptation,
as it was made to Jesus, who was God omnipotent and all-wise. Such
objectors rely on natural reason.

After the temptation Jesus worked many miracles, casting out devils and
otherwise doing marvels amongst the inhabitants of Judea, who seem as a
body to have been very unbelieving. If a second Jesus of Nazareth were
in this heretical age to boast that he possessed the power of casting
out devils, he would stand a fair chance of expiating his offence by a
three months’ imprisonment with hard labor. It is true that the 72nd
Canon of the Church of England recognises that ministers can cast
out devils, but forbids them to do this unless licensed by the Bishop
“under pain of the imputation of imposture or cozenage.” Now, if
sick men have a little wisdom, the physician is resorted to that he may
cure the disease. If men have much wisdom, they study physiology while
they have health, in order to prevent sickness. In the time of the early
Christians prayer and faith (James v, 14, 15) occupied the position
since usurped by medicine and experience. Men who had lost their senses
in the time of Christ were regarded as attacked not by disease but by
the Devil. In the days of Jesus one spirit would make a man blind, or
deaf, or dumb: occasionally a number of devils would get into a man and
drive him mad. On one occasion Jesus met either one man (Mark v, 2) or
two men (Matt. viii, 28), possessed with devils. The devils knew Jesus,
and addressed him by name. Jesus, not so familiar with the imp or imps,
inquired the name of the particular devil he was addressing. The answer,
given in Latin, would induce a belief, possibly corroborated by the
writings of the monks, that devils communicated in that tongue. Jesus
wanted to cast out the devils from the man; this they did not contest,
but they expressed a decided objection to being cast out of the country.
A compromise was agreed to, and at their own request the devils were
transferred to a herd of swine. The swine ran into the sea and were
drowned. There is no record of any compensation to the owner.

Jesus fed large multitudes of people under circumstances of a most
ultra-thaumaturgic character. To the first book of Euclid is prefixed
an axiom “that the whole is greater than its part.” John Wesley was
wise if it be true that he eschewed mathematics lest it should lead him
to infidelity. If any man be irreligious enough to accept Euclid’s
axiom, he will be compelled to reject the miraculous feeding of 5,000
people with five loaves and two small fishes. The original difficulty
of the miracle, though not increased, is made hard to the common mind by
the assertion that after the multitude had been fed, twelve basketsfull
of fragments remained.

Jesus is related to have walked on the sea when it was very stormy, and
when “the sea arose by reason of a great wind that blew.” Walking
on the water is a great feat even if the sea be calm, but when the waves
run high it is still more wonderful.

The miracle of turning water into wine at Cana, in Galilee, is worthy
attention, when considering the question, Who was Jesus Christ? Jesus
and his disciples had been called to a marriage feast, and when there
the company fell short of wine. The mother of Jesus, to whom the
Catholics offer worship, and to whom they pay great adoration, informed
Jesus of the deficiency, and was answered, “Woman, what have I to
do with thee? mine hour is not yet come.” His mother seemed to have
expected a miracle, yet in the Fourth Gospel the Cana wonder was the
beginning of miracle working by Jesus; the apocryphal gospels assert
that Jesus practised miracle working as a child. Jesus having obtained
six waterpots full of water, turned them into wine. Teetotallers who
cannot believe God would specially provide means of drunkenness, urge
that this wine was not of intoxicating quality, though there is nothing
in the text to justify their hypothesis. The curious connexion between
the phrase “well drunk,” and the time at which the miracle was
performed, would rather warrant the supposition that the guests were
already in such a state as to render it difficult for them to critically
appreciate the new vintage. The moral effects of this miracle are not
easily appreciable.

Shortly after this Jesus went to the temple with a scourge of small
cords, and drove thereout the cattle dealers and money changers who had
assembled there in the ordinary course of their business. The writer
of the Fourth Gospel places this event very early in the public life of
Jesus. The writer of the Third Gospel fixes the occurrence much later.

Jesus being hungry went to a fig-tree, to gather figs, though the season
of figs was not yet come. Of course there were no figs upon the tree,
and Jesus then caused the tree to wither away. This is specially
interesting as a problem for a true orthodox trinitarian who will
believe—first, that Jesus was God, who made the tree, and prevented it
from bearing figs; second, that God the all-wise, who is not subject
to human passions, being hungry, went to the fig-tree, on which he knew
there could be no figs, expecting to find some there; third, that God
the all-just then punished the tree, because it did not bear figs in
opposition to God’s eternal ordination.

Jesus had a disciple named Peter, who, having much Christian faith, was
a great coward and denied his leader in his hour of need. Jesus though
previously aware that Peter would be a traitor, yet gave him the keys
of the kingdom of Heaven, and told him that whatsoever he bound on earth
should be bound in Heaven. Peter was to have denied Jests three times
before the cock should crow (Matt. xxvi, 34). The cock crowed before
Peter’s second denial (Mark xiv, 68). Commentators urge that the
words used do not refer to the crowing of any particular cock, but to a
special hour of the morning called “cock-crow.” But if the Gospel
be true, the explanation is false. Peter’s denial becomes the more
extraordinary when we remember that he had seen Moses, Jesus, and Elias
talking together, and had heard a voice from a cloud say, “This is
my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” As Peter could thus deny
Jesus after having heard God vouch his divinity, and Peter not only
escapes punishment, but gets the office of gatekeeper to Heaven, how
much more should those escape punishment and obtain reward, who only
deny because they cannot help it, and who have been left without any
corroborative evidence of sight or hearing?

The Jesus of the First Gospel promised that, as Jonas was three days and
three nights in the whale’s belly, so he (Jesus) would be three days
and three nights in the heart of the earth. Yet he was buried on Friday
evening, and was out of the grave before Saturday night was over. Some
say that the Jews reckoned part of a day as a whole one.

The translators have made Jesus perform a curious equestrian feat on his
entry into Jerusalem. The text (Matt. xxi, 7) says they “brought the
ass and the colt and put on them their clothes and set him thereon.”
This does not mean that he rode on both at one time; it only says so. On
the cross the Jesus of the Four Gospels, who was God, cried out, “My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” God cannot forsake himself.
Jesus was God himself. Yet God forsook Jesus, and the latter cried out
to know why he was forsaken. Any able divine will explain that of
course he knew, and that he was not forsaken. The explanation renders it
difficult to believe the dying cry, and the passage becomes one of the
mysteries of the holy Christian religion, which, unless a man rightly
believe, “without doubt he shall perish everlastingly.” At the
crucifixion of Jesus wonderful miracles took place “The graves were
opened, and many bodies of the saints which slept arose and came out of
the grave after his resurrection and appeared unto many.” Which
saints were these? They “appeared unto many,” but there is not the
slightest evidence outside the Bible that anyone ever saw them. Their
“bodies” came out of the graves. Do not the bodies of the saints
decompose like those of ordinary human beings?

Jesus must have much changed in the grave, for his disciples did not
know him when he stood on the shore (John xxi, 4), and Mary, most
attached to him, knew him not, but supposed that he was the gardener.
According to the First Gospel, Jesus appeared to two women after his
resurrection, and afterwards met eleven of his disciples by appointment
on a mountain in Galilee. When was this appointment made? The text on
which divines rely is Matt. xxvi, 32; this makes no such appointment.
According to the Second Gospel, he appeared first to one woman, and
when she told the disciples they did not believe it. Yet, on pain of
indictment now and damnation hereafter, we are bound to unhesitatingly
accept that which the disciples of Jesus rejected. By the Second Gospel
we learn that instead of the eleven going to Galilee after Jesus, he
came to them as they sat at meat. In the Third Gospel he first appeared
to two of his disciples at Emmaus, and they did not know him until
they had been a long time in his company—it was evening before they
recognised him. Unfortunately, directly they knew him they did not see
him, for as soon as they knew him he vanished out of their sight. He
immediately afterwards appeared to the eleven at Jerusalem, and not at
Galilee, as stated in the First Gospel. Jesus asked for some meat, and
the disciples gave him a portion of a broiled fish and of a honeycomb,
and he did eat. Jesus was afterwards taken up into Heaven, a cloud
received him, and he was missed. God is everywhere, and Heaven no more
above than below, but it is necessary we should believe that Jesus has
ascended into Heaven to sit on the right hand of God, who is infinite
and has no right hand. Was Jesus Christ a man? If limited for our answer
to the mere Gospel Jesus—surely not. His whole career is, on any
literal reading, simply a series of improbabilities or contradictions.
Who was Christ? born of a virgin, and of divine parentage? So too were
many of the mythic Sungods and so was Krishna, whose story, similar
in many respects with that of Jesus, was current long prior to the
Christian era.

Was Jesus Christ man or myth? His story being fable, is the hero a
reality? That a man named Jesus really lived and performed some special
actions attracting popular attention, and thus became the centre for a
hundred myths may well be true, but beyond this what is there of solid
fact?


.. clearpage::

WHAT DID JESUS TEACH?
=====================

.. dropcap:: T THE


THE language in which Jesus taught, has not been preserved to us. Who
recorded his actual words, or if any real record ever existed, is all
matter of guess. Who translated the words of Jesus into the Greek no one
knows. In the compass of four pamphlets, attributed to four persons,
of whose connexion with the Gospels, as we have them, little or nothing
whatever can be ascertained, we have what are, by the orthodox, supposed
to be the words in which Jesus actually taught. What did he teach?
Manly, self-reliant resistance of wrong, and practice of right? No; the
key-stone of his whole teaching may be found in the text: “Blessed are
the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew v,
3) Is poverty of spirit the chief amongst virtues, that Jesus gives it
prime place in his teachings? Is it even a virtue at all? Surely not.
Manliness of spirit, honesty of spirit, fulness of rightful purpose,
these are virtues; poverty of spirit is a crime. When men are poor in
spirit, then the proud and haughty in spirit oppress them. When men are
true in spirit and determined (as true men should be) to resist, and as
far as possible, prevent wrong, then is there greater opportunity for
present happiness, and, as even Christians ought to admit, no lesser
fitness for the enjoyment of further happiness, in some may-be heaven.
Are you poor in spirit, and are you smitten; in such case what did Jesus
teach?—“Unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the
other.” (Luke, vi, 29) Surely better to teach that “he who courts
oppression shares the crime;” and, if smitten once to take careful
measure to prevent a future smiting. Jesus teaches actual invitation of
injury. Shelley breathed higher humanity::

     “Stand ye calm and resolute,
     Like a forest close and mute,
     With folded arms and looks, which are
     Weapons of an unvanquished war.”

There is a wide distinction between passive resistance to wrong, and
courting further injury at the hands of the wrongdoer.

In the teaching of Jesus, poverty of spirit is enforced to the fullest
conceivable extent: “Him that taketh away thy cloak, forbid not to
take thy coat also. Give to every man that asketh of thee, and of him
that taketh away thy goods, ask them not again.” (Luke vi, 29, 30)
Poverty of person, is the only possible sequence to this extraordinary
manifestation of poverty of spirit. Poverty of person is attended with
many unpleasantnesses; and Jesus, who knew that poverty would result
from his teaching, says, as if he wished to keep the poor content
through their lives with poverty, “Blessed be ye poor, for yours is
the kingdom of God.” (Luke vi, 20) “But woe unto you that are rich,
for ye have received your consolation.” (Luke vi, 24) He pictures
one in hell, whose only related vice is that in life he was rich; and
another in heaven, whose only related virtue is that in life he was poor
(Luke xvi, 19-31). He affirms it is more difficult for a rich man to get
into heaven, than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle (Luke
xvii, 25). The only intent of such teaching could be to induce the
poor to remain content in this life, with the want and misery of their
wretched state in the hope of higher recompense in some future life. Is
it good to be content with poverty? Is it not far better to investigate
the causes of poverty, with a view to its cure and prevention? The
doctrine is most horrid which declares that the poor shall not cease
from the face of the earth. Poor in spirit and poor in pocket, with no
courage to work for food, or money to purchase it, we might well expect
to find the man with empty stomach also who held these doctrines; and
what does Jesus teach? “Blessed are ye that hunger now, for ye shall
be filled.” (Luke vi, 21) He does not say when the filling shall take
place. The date is evidently postponed until men will have no stomachs
to replenish? It is not in this life that the hunger is to be sated.
“Woe unto you that are full, for ye shall hunger.” (Luke vi, 25) It
would but little advantage the hungry man to bless him by filling him,
if a curse awaited the completion of his repast. Craven in spirit,
with an empty purse and hungry mouth—what next? The man who has not
manliness enough to prevent wrong, will probably bemoan his hard fate,
and cry bitterly that sore are the misfortunes he endures. And what does
Jesus teach? “Blessed are ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh.”
(Luke vi, 21) Is this true, and, if true, when shall the laughter come?
“Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” (Matthew
v, 4) Aye, but when? Not while they mourn and weep. Weeping for the past
is vain: a deluge of tears will not wash away its history. Weeping for
the present is worse than vain—it obstructs your sight. In each minute
of your life the aforetime future is present born, and you need dry and
keen eyes to give it and yourself a safe and happy deliverance. When
shall they that mourn be comforted? Are slaves that weep salt tear-drops
on their chains comforted in their weeping. Each pearly overflowing as
it falls rusts mind, as well as fetter. Ye who are slaves and weep, will
never be comforted until you dry your eyes, and nerve your arms, and, in
the plenitude of manliness::

     “Shake your chains to earth like dew,
     Which in sleep hath fallen on you.”

Jesus teaches that the poor, the hungry, and the wretched shall be
blessed? But blessing only comes when they cease to be poor, hungry, and
wretched. Contentment under poverty, hunger, and misery is high treason,
not to yourself alone, but to your fellows. Slavery spreads quickly
wherever humanity is stagnant and content with wrong.

What did Jesus teach? “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”
(Matthew xix, 19) But how if thy neighbor will not hear thy doctrine
when thou preachest the “glad tidings of great joy” to him? Then
forgetting all your love, and with the bitter hatred that a theological
disputant alone can manifest, you “shall shake off the dust from your
feet,” and by so doing make it more tolerable in the day of judgment
for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah, than for your unfortunate neighbor
who has ventured to reject your teaching (Matthew x, 14, 15). It is
mockery to speak as if love could really result from the dehumanising
and isolating faith required from the disciple of Jesus. Ignatius Loyola
in this, at least, was more consistent than his Protestant brethren.
“If any man come unto me, and hate not his father, and mother, and
wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life
also, he cannot be my disciple.” (Luke xiv, 26) “Think not that I am
come to send peace on earth. I came not to send peace, but a sword. For
I come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter
against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law,
and a man’s foes they shall be of his own household.” (Matthew x,
34-36) “Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters,
or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands for my sake, shall
receive an hundred fold, and shall inherit everlasting life.” (Matthew
xix, 29) The teaching of Jesus is, in fact, save yourself by yourself.
The teaching of humanity should be, to save yourself save your fellow.
The human family is a vast chain, each man and woman a link. There is no
snapping off one link and preserving for it, isolated from the rest, an
entirety of happiness; our joy depends on our brother’s also. Jesus
teaches that “many are called, but few are chosen;” that the
majority will inherit an eternity of misery, while but the minority
obtain eternal happiness. And on what is the eternity of bliss to
depend? On a truthful course of life? Not so. Jesus puts Father Abraham
in Heaven, whose reputation for faith outstrips his character for
veracity. The passport through Heaven’s portals is faith. “He that
believeth and is baptised shall be saved, but he that believeth not,
shall be damned.” (Mark xvi, 16) Are you married? You love your wife?
Both die. You from first to last had said, “I believe,” much as a
well-trained parrot might say it. You had never examined your reasons
for your faith; as a true believer should, you distrusted the efficacy
of your carnal reason. You said, “I believe in God and Jesus
Christ,” because you had been taught to say it, and you would have as
glibly said, “I believe in Allah, and in Mahomet his prophet,”
had your birth-place been a few degrees eastward, and your parents and
instructors Turks. You believed in this life, and after death awake in
Heaven. Your much-loved wife did not think as you did—she could not.
Her organisation, education, and temperament were all different from
your own. She disbelieved because she could not believe. She was a
good wife, but she disbelieved. A good and affectionate mother, but she
disbelieved. A virtuous and kindly woman, but she disbelieved. And you
are to be happy for an eternity in Heaven, with the knowledge that she
is writhing in agony in Hell. If this be true, Shelley was right in
declaring that your Christianity::

     “Peoples earth with demons, hell with men,
     And heaven with slaves.”

It is urged that Jesus is the savior of the world, who brought
redemption without let or stint to the whole human race. But what did
Jesus teach? “Go not into any way of the Gentiles, and into any city
of the Samaritan enter ye not,” (Matthew x, 6) were his injunctions
to those whom he first sent out to preach. “I am not sent but unto
the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” is his hard answer to the poor
Syrophenician woman who entreated succor for her child. Christianity, as
first taught by Jesus, was for the Jews alone, it was only when rejected
by them, that the world at large had the opportunity of salvation
afforded it. “He came unto his own and his own received him not.”
(John i, 11) Why should the Jews be more God’s own than the Gentiles?
Is God the creator of all? did he create the descendant of Abraham
with greater right and privilege than all other men? Then, indeed, is
grievous injustice. You had no choice whether to be born Jew or Gentile;
yet to the accident of such a birth is attached the first offer of a
salvation which, if accepted, shuts out all beside.

The Kingdom of Heaven is a prominent feature in the teachings of Jesus.
Examine the picture drawn by God incarnate of his own special domain.
’Tis likened to a wedding feast, (Matthew xxii, 2) to which the
invited guests coming not, servants were sent out into the highways to
gather all they can find—both good and bad. The King, examining
his motley array of guests, and finding one without a wedding garment
inquired why he came in to the feast without one. The man, whose
attendance had been compulsorily enforced, was speechless. And who can
wonder? he was a guest from necessity, not choice, he neither chose the
fashion of his coming, or that of his attiring. Then comes the King’s
decree, the command of the all-merciful and loving King of Heaven.
“Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall
be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Commentators urge that it was the
custom to provide wedding garments for all guests, and that this man
was punished for his non-acceptance of the customary and ready robe.
The text does not warrant this explanation, but gives as moral of
the parable, that an invitation to the heavenly feast will not ensure
partakal of it, for that “many are called, but few are chosen.” What
more of the Kingdom of Heaven? “Joy shall be in Heaven over one sinner
that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons which need
no repentance.” (Luke xv, 7) The greater sinner one has been, the
better saint he makes, and the more he has sinned, so much the more he
loves God. “To whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.”
(Luke vii, 47) Thus asserting that a life of vice, with its stains
washed away by a death-bed repentance, is better than a life of
consistent and virtuous conduct? Why should the fatted calf be killed
for the prodigal son? (Luke xv, 27) Why should men be taught to make to
themselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness? (Luke xvi, 9) These
ambiguities, these assertions of punishment and forgiveness of crime,
instead of directions for its prevention and cure, are serious blots on
a system alleged to have been inculcated by one for whom his followers
claim divinity.

Will you urge the love of Jesus as the redeeming feature of the
teaching? Then read the story of the fig tree (Matthew xxi, 18-22; Mark
xi, 12-24) withered by the hungry Jesus. The fig tree was, if he were
all-powerful God, made by him; he limited its growth and regulated its
development; he prevented it from bearing figs, expected fruit where he
had rendered fruit impossible, and in his *infinite love* was angry that
the tree had not upon it that it could not have. What love is expressed
in that remarkable speech which follows one of his parables:—“For,
I say unto you, that unto every one which hath shall be given, and from
him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away from him.
*But those, mine enemies, which would not that I should reign over them,
bring them hither, and slay them before me*.” (Luke xix, 26, 27) What
love is expressed by that Jesus who, if he were God, represents himself
as saying to the majority of his unfortunate creatures (for it is the
few that are chosen):—“Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting
fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Matthew xxv, 41) There
is no love in this horrid doctrine of eternal torment. And yet the
popular preachers of to-day talk first of the love of God and then of::

     “Hell, a red gulf of everlasting fire,
     Where poisons and undying worms prolong
     Eternal misery to those hapless slaves,
     Whose life has been a penance for its crimes.”

In the sayings attributed to Jesus there is the passage which influenced
so extraordinarily the famous Origen (Matthew xix, 12). If he understood
it aright, its teachings are most terrible. If he understood it wrongly,
what of the wisdom of teaching which expresses itself so vaguely? The
general intent of Christ’s teaching seems to be an inculcation of
neglect of this life, in the search for another. “Labor not for the
meat which perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting
life.” (John vi, 27) “Take no thought for your life, what ye shall
eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put
on... take no thought saying, what shall we eat? or what shall we drink?
or wherewithal shall we be clothed?.... But seek ye first the Kingdom
of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto
you.” (Matthew vi, 25-33) These texts, if fully observed, would be
most disastrous; they would stay all scientific discoveries, prevent all
development of man’s energies. In the struggle for existence, men
are compelled to become acquainted with the conditions which compel
happiness or misery. It is only in the practical application of that
knowledge, that the wants of society are ascertained, and disease,
poverty, hunger, and wretchedness prevented, or at any rate lessened.
Jesus substitutes “I believe,” for “I think,” and puts “watch
and pray” instead of “think, then act.” Belief is the prominent
doctrine which pervades, and governs all Christianity. It is represented
that, at the judgment, the world will be reproved “Of sin, because
they believe not.” This teaching is most disastrous; man should
be incited to active thought: Christian belief would bind him to
the teachings of a stagnant past. Fit companion to blind belief is
slave-like prayer. Men pray as though God needed most abject entreaty
ere he would grant justice. What does Jesus teach on prayer? “After
this manner pray ye—Our Father, which art in heaven.” Do you think
that God is the Father of all, when you pray that he will enable you to
defeat some others of his children, with whom your nation is at war? And
why “which art in Heaven?” Where is your Heaven? You look upward,
and if you were at the Antipodes, would look upward still. But that
upward would be downward to us. Do you localize Heaven? Why say “which
art in Heaven?” Is God infinite, then he is also in earth. “Hallowed
be thy name.” “What is God’s name? if you know it not how can you
hallow it? how can God’s name be hallowed even if you know it?” “Thy
kingdom come.” What is God’s kingdom, and will your praying bring
it quicker? Is it the Judgment day, and do you who say “Love one
another,” pray for the more speedy arrival of that day, on which God
may say to your fellow “depart ye cursed into everlasting fire?”
“Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” How is God’s will
done in heaven? If the Devil be a fallen angel, there must have been
rebellion even there. “Give us this day our daily bread.” Will the
prayer get it without work? No. Will work get it without prayer? Yes.
Why pray, then, for bread to God, who says, “Blessed be ye that
hunger... woe unto you that are full?” “And forgive us our debts, as
we forgive our debtors.” (Matthew vi, 12) What debts have you to God?
Sins? Coleridge writes, “A sin is an evil which has its ground
or origin in the agent, and not in the compulsion of circumstances.
Circumstances are compulsory, from the absence of a power to resist
or control them: and if the absence likewise be the effect of
circumstances... the evil derives from the circumstances... and such
evil is not sin.” [36]_ Do you say that you are independent of all
circumstances, that you can control them, that you have a free will?
Buckle replies that the assertion of a free will “involves two
assumptions, of which the first, though possibly true, has never been
proved, and the second is unquestionably false. These assumptions are
that there is an independent faculty, called consciousness, and that the
dictates of that faculty are infallible.” [37]_ “And lead us not into
temptation, but deliver us from evil.” (Matthew vi, 13) Do you think
God may lead you into temptation? if so, you cannot think him all good;
if not all-good he is not God. If God, the prayer is blasphemy.

.. [36] “Aids to Reflection,” 1843, p. 200.

.. [37] “History of Civilisation,” Vol. I, p. 14.

Jesus, according to the general declaration of Christian divines, came
to die, and what does he teach by his death? The Rev. F.D. Maurice well
said, “That he who kills for a faith must be weak, that he who dies
for a faith must be strong.” How did Jesus die? Giordano Bruno and
Julius Cæsar Vanini were burned, charged with heresy. They died calm,
heroic, defiant of wrong. Jesus, who could not die courted death, that
he, as God, might accept his own atonement, and might pardon man for
a sin which the pardoned man had not committed, and in which he had no
share. The death Jesus courted came, and when it came he could not face
it, but prayed to himself that he might not die. And at last, when on
the cross, if two gospels do him no injustice his last words were a
bitter cry of deep despair. “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me?” The Rev. Enoch Mellor writing on the Atonement, says, “I seek
not to fathom the profound mystery of these words. To understand their
full import would require one to experience the agony of desertion they
express.” Do the words, “My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me?” express an “agony” caused by a consciousness of
“desertion?” if this be not the meaning conveyed by the despairing
death-cry then there is in it no meaning whatever. And if those words
do express a “bitter agony of desertion” then they emphatically
contradict the teachings of Jesus. “Before Abraham was, I am.” “I
and my father are one.” “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.”
These were the words of Jesus—words conveying an impression that
divinity was claimed by the one who uttered them. If Jesus had indeed
been God, the words “My God, my God,” would have been a mockery
most extreme. God could not have deemed himself forsaken by himself. The
dying Jesus, in that despair, confessed himself either the dupe of some
other teaching, a self-deluded enthusiast, or an arch-impostor, who in
that bitter cry, with the wide-opening of the flood-gates through which
life’s stream ran out, confessed aloud that he, at least, was no
deity, and deemed himself a God-forsaken man. The garden scene of agony
is fitting prelude to this most terrible act. Jesus, who is God, prays
to himself: in “agony he prayed most earnestly” (Luke xxii, 44) He
refuses to hear his own prayers, and he, the omnipotent, is forearmed
against his coming trial by an angel from heaven, who “strengthened”
the great Creator. Was Jesus the Son of God? Praying, he said “Father
the hour is come, glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify
thee.” (John xvii, 2) And was he glorified? His death and resurrection
most strongly disbelieved in the very city where they are alleged to
have happened. His doctrines rejected by the only people to whom he
preached them. His miracles denied by the only nation amongst whom they
are alleged to have been performed; and he himself thus on the cross
crying out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

Nor is it true that the teachings of Jesus are generally received. Jesus
taught: “And these signs shall follow them that believe; in my name
shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they
shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not
hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.”
(Mark xvi, 17, 18) How many of those who profess to believe in Jesus
would be content to be tested by these signs? Any person claiming
that each sign was to be found manifested in her or his case would be
regarded as mad. Illustrations of faith-healing occasionally arise, but
are not always reliable, nor are such cures limited to those who profess
faith in Jesus. The gift of speaking with new tongues has been the claim
of a very small sect. Serpent charming is more practised amongst Hindus
than amongst Christians.

Peace and love are alleged to be the special characteristics of
Christianity. Yet the whole history of Christian nations has been
blurred by war and hate. Now and for the past thirty years the most
civilized amongst Christian nations have been devoting enormous sums and
huge masses of men to the preparation for war. Torpedoes and explosive
shells, one hundred ton guns and mele-nite, are by Christian rulers
accounted better aids than faith in Jesus.


.. clearpage::

THE TWELVE APOSTLES
===================

.. dropcap:: A ALL


ALL good Christians, indeed all Christians—for are there any who are
not models of goodness?—will desire that their fellow-creatures
who are unbelievers should have the fullest possible information,
biographical or otherwise, as as to the twelve persons specially chosen
by Jesus to be his immediate followers. The believer, of course,
would be equally content with his faith in the absence of all historic
vouchers. Indeed a pious worshipper would cling to his creed not only
without testimony in its favor, but despite direct testimony against it.
It is to those not within the pale of the church that I shall seek to
demonstrate the credibility of the history of the twelve apostles. The
short biographical sketch here presented is extracted from the first
five books of the New Testament, two of which at least are attributed
to two of the twelve. It is objected, by heretical men who go as far
in their criticisms on the Gospels as Colenso does with the Pentateuch,
that not one of the gospels is original or written by any of the
apostles; that, on the contrary, they were preceded by numerous
writings, since lost or rejected, these in their turn having for their
basis the oral tradition which preceded them. It is alleged that the
four gospels are utterly anonymous, and that the fourth gospel is
subject to strong suspicions of spuriousness. To use on this part of the
words of the author of “Supernatural Religion,” applied by him to
the Acts of the Apostles: “As a general rule, any documents so full
of miraculous episodes and supernatural occurrences would, without
hesitation, be characterized as fabulous and incredible, and would not,
by any sober-minded reader, be for a moment accepted as historical.
There is no other testimony.” It would be useless to combat, and I
therefore boldly ignore these attacks on the authenticity of the
text, and proceed with my history. The names of the twelve are as
follows—Simon, surnamed Peter; Andrew, his brother; James and John,
the sons of Zebedee; Andrew, Philip; Bartholomew; Matthew; James, the
son of Alphteus; Simon, the Canaanite; Judas Iscariot; and a twelfth,
as to whose name there is some uncertainty; it was either Lebbæus,
Thaddæus, or Judas. It is in Matthew alone (x, 3) that the name
of Lebbæus is mentioned thus—“Lebbæus, whose surname was
Thaddæus.” We are told, on this point, by able Biblicists, that the
early MSS have not the words “whose surname was Thaddæus,” and
that these words have probably been inserted to reconcile the gospel
according to Matthew with that attributed to Mark. How good must have
been the old fathers who sought to improve upon the Holy Ghost by making
clear that which inspiration had left doubtful! In the English version
of the Rheims Testament used in this country by our Roman Catholic
brethren, the reconciliation between Matthew and Mark is completed by
omitting the words “Lebbæus whose surname was,” leaving only
the name “Thad-dæus” in Matthew’s text. This omission must be
correct, being by the authority of an infallible church, and Dr. Newman
shows us that when the church pronounces all doubt is damnable. If
Matthew x, 3, and Mark iii, 18, be passed as reconciled, although the
first calls the twelfth disciple Lebbæus, and the second gives him
the name Thaddæus, there is yet the difficulty that in Luke vi,
16, corroborated by John xiv, 22, there is a disciple spoken of as
“Judas, not Iscariot.” “Judas, *the brother* of James.”
Commentators have endeavored to clear away this last difficulty by
declaring that Thaddæus is a Syriac word, having much the same meaning
as Judas. This has been answered by the objection that if Matthew’s
Gospel uses Thaddæus in lieu of Judas, then he ought to speak of
Thaddæus Iscariot, which he does not; and it is further objected also
that while there are some grounds for suggesting a Hebrew original for
the gospel attributed to Matthew, there is not the slightest pretence
for alleging that Matthew wrote in Syriac. It is to be hoped that
the unbelieving reader will not stumble on the threshold of his study
because of a little uncertainty as to a name. What is in a name? The
Jewish name which we read as Jesus is really Joshua, but the name to
which we are most accustomed seems the one we should adhere to.

Simon Peter being the first named amongst the disciples of Jesus,
deserves the first place in this notice. The word “Simon” may be
rendered, if taken as a Greek name, *flat-nose* or *ugly*. Some of the
ancient Greek and Hebrew names are characteristic of peculiarities in
the individual, but no one now knows whether Peter’s nose had anything
to do with his name. Simon is rather a Hebrew name, but Peter is Greek,
signifying a rock or stone. Peter is supposed to have the keys of
the kingdom of heaven, and his second name may express his stony
insensibility to all appeals by infidels for admittance to the celestial
regions. Lord Byron’s “Vision of Judgment” is the highest known
authority as to Saint Peter’s celestial duties, but this nobleman’s
poems are only fit for very pious readers. Peter, ere he became a
parson, was by trade a fisher, and when Jesus first saw Peter, the
latter was in a vessel fishing with his brother Andrew, casting a
net into the sea of Galilee. The calling of Peter and Andrew to the
apostleship was sudden, and apparently unexpected. Jesus walking by the
sea said to them—“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
(Matthew iv, 18-22) The two brothers did so, and they became Christ’s
disciples. The successors of Peter have since reversed the apostle’s
early practice: instead of now casting their nets into the sea, the
modern representatives of the disciples of Jesus draw the sees into
their nets, and, it is believed, find the result much more profitable.
When Jesus called Peter no one was with him but his brother Andrew;
a little further on the two sons of Zebedee were in a ship with their
father mending nets. This is the account of Peter’s call given in the
gospel according to Matthew, and as according to the Church Matthew was
inspired by the Holy Ghost, who is identical with God the Father, who is
one with God the Son, who is Jesus, the account must be free from error.
In the Gospel according to John, which is likewise inspired in the same
manner, from the same source, and with similar infallibility, we learn
that Andrew was originally a disciple of John the Baptist, and that when
Andrew first saw Jesus Peter was not present, but Andrew went and found
Peter who, if fishing, must have been angling on land, telling him “we
have found the Messiah,” and that Andrew then brought Peter to Jesus,
who said: “Thou art Simon, the son of Jonas; thou shalt be called
Cephas.” There is no mention in this gospel narrative of the sons
of Zebedee being a little further on, or of any fishing in the sea of
Galilee. This call is clearly on land, whether or not near the sea of
Galilee does not appear. In the Gospel according to Luke, which is
as much inspired as either of the two before-mentioned gospels, and,
therefore, equally authentic with each of them, we are told (Luke v,
1-11) that when the call took place Jesus and Peter were both at sea.
Jesus had been preaching to the people, who, pressing upon him, he got
into Simon’s ship, from which he preached. After this he directed
Simon to put out into the deep and let down the nets. Simon answered:
“Master, we have toiled all night, and taken nothing; nevertheless,
at thy word I will let down the net.” No sooner was this done than
the net was filled to breaking, and Simon’s partners, the two sons of
Zebedee, came to help, when, at the call of Jesus, they brought their
ships to land, and followed him. From these accounts the unbeliever may
learn that when Jesus called Peter either both Jesus and Peter were on
the land, or one was on land and the other on the sea, or both of them
were at sea. He may also learn that the sons of Zebedee were present at
the time, having come to help to get in the great catch, and were called
with Peter; or that they were further on, sitting mending nets with
their father, and were called afterwards; or that they were neither
present nor near at hand. He may also be assured that Simon was in
his ship when Jesus came to call him, and that Jesus was on land when
Andrew, Simon’s brother, found Simon and brought him to Jesus to
be called. The unbeliever must not hesitate because of any apparent
incoherence or contradiction in the narrative. The greater the
difficulty in believing, the more deserved the reward which only comes
to belief. With faith it is easy to harmonise the three narratives above
quoted, especially when you know that Jesus had visited Simon’s house
before the call of Simon, (Luke iv, 38) but did not go to Simon’s
house until after Simon had been called (Matthew viii, 14). Jesus went
to Simon’s house and cured his wife’s mother of a fever. Robert
Taylor, [38]_ commenting on the fever-curing miracle, says—“St. Luke
tells us that this fever had taken the woman, not that the woman had
taken the fever, and not that the fever was a very bad fever, or a
yellow fever, or a scarlet fever, but that it was a great fever—that
is, I suppose, a fever six feet high at least; a personal fever,
a rational and intelligent fever, that would yield to the power of
Jesus’s argument, but would never have given way to James’s powder.
So we are expressly told that Jesus rebuked the fever—that is, he
gave it a good scolding; asked it, I dare say, how it could be so
unreasonable as to plague the poor old woman so cruelly, and whether
it wasn’t ashamed of itself; and said, perhaps, *Get out, you naughty
wicked fever, you*; and such like objurgatory language, which the fever,
not being used to be rebuked in such a manner, and being a very sensible
sort of fever, would not stand, but immediately left the old woman in
high dudgeon.” This Robert Taylor, although a clergyman of the Church
of England, has been convicted of blasphemy and imprisoned for writing
in such wicked language about the Bible. Simon Peter, as a disciple,
performed many miracles, some when in company with Jesus, and more when
separately by himself. These miracles, though themselves unvouched by
any reliable testimony, and disbelieved by the people amongst whom they
were worked, are strong evidence in favor of the apostolic character
claimed for Peter.

.. [38] “Devil’s Pulpit,” vol. i, p. 148.

On one occasion the whole of the disciples were sent away by Jesus in a
ship, the Savior remaining behind to pray. About the fourth watch of the
night, when the ship was in the midst of the sea, Jesus went unto his
disciples, walking on the sea. Though Jesus went unto his disciples,
and, as an expeditious way, I suppose, of arriving with them, he would
have passed by them, but they saw him, and supposing him to be a spirit,
cried out. Jesus bid them be of good cheer, to which Peter answered,
(Matthew xiv, 23) “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee.”
Jesus said, “Come,” and Peter walked on the water to go to Jesus.
But the sea being wet and the wind boisterous, Peter became afraid, and
instead of walking on the water began to sink into it, and cried out
“Lord save me,” and immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and
caught Peter.

Some object that the two gospels according to John and Mark, which both
record the feat of water-walking by Jesus, omit all mention of Peter’s
attempt. Probably the Holy Ghost had good reasons for omitting it. A
profane mind might make a jest of an Apostle “half seas over,”
and ridicule an apostolic gatekeeper who could not keep his head above
water.

Peter’s partial failure in this instance should drive away all
unbelief, as the text will show that it was only for lack of faith that

Peter lost his buoyancy. Simon is called Bar-Jonah, that is, son of
Jonah, but I am not aware that he is any relation to the Jonah who lived
under water in the belly of a fish three days and three nights.

It was Simon Peter who, having told Jesus he was the Son of God, was
answered “Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jonah, flesh and blood hath
not revealed it unto thee.” (Matthew xvi, 17) We find a number of
disciples shortly before this, and in Peter’s presence, telling Jesus
that he was the Son of God, (Matthew xiv, 33) but there is, of course,
no real contradiction between the two texts. It was on this occasion
that Jesus said to Simon, “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will
build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it, and
I will give thee the keys of the kingdom of Heaven, and whatsoever thou
shalt bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt
loose on earth shall be loosed in Heaven.” Under these extraordinary
declarations from the mouth of God the Son, the Bishops of Rome
have claimed, as successors of Peter, the same privileges, and their
pretensions have been acceded to by some of the most powerful monarchs
of Europe.

Under this claim the Bishops, or Popes of Rome, have at various times
issued Papal Bulls, by which they have sought to bind the entire world.
Many of these have been very successful; but in 1302, Philip the Fair,
of France, publicly burned the Pope Boniface’s Bull after an address
in which the States-General had denounced, in words more expressive than
polite, the right of the Popes of Rome to Saint Peter’s keys on earth.
Some deny that the occupiers of the episcopal seat in the seven-hilled
city are really of the Church of Christ, and they point to the bloody
quarrels which have raged between men, contending for the Papal dignity.
They declare that those Vicars of Christ have more than once resorted to
fraud, treachery, and murder, to secure the Papal dignity. They point to
Stephen VII, the son of an unmarried priest, who cut off the head of his
predecessor’s corpse; to Sergius III, convicted of assassination; to
John X, who was strangled in the bed of his paramor Theodora; to John
XI, son of Pope Sergius III, famous only for his drunken debauchery;
to John XII, found assassinated in the apartments of his mistress; to
Benedict IX, who both purchased and sold the Pontificate; to Gregory
VII, the pseudo lover of the Countess Matilda, and the author of
centuries of war carried on by his successors. And if these suffice not,
they point to Alexander Borgia, whose name is but the echo of crime, and
whose infamy will be as lasting as history. It is answered: “By the
fruit ye shall judge of the tree.” It is useless to deny the vine’s
existence because the grapes are sour. Peter, the favored disciple, it
is declared was a rascal, and why not his successors? They have only to
repent, and there is more joy in heaven over one sinner that re-penteth
than over ninety and nine righteous men. Such language is very terrible,
and arises from allowing the carnal reason too much freedom.

All true believers will be familiar with the story of Peter’s sudden
readiness to deny his Lord and teacher in the hour of danger, and will
easily draw the right moral from the mysterious lesson here taught; but
unbelievers may be a little inclined to agree with the common infidel
objections on this point. These objections, therefore, shall be first
stated, and then refuted in the most orthodox fashion. It is objected
that all the denials were to take place before the cock should crow,
(Matthew xxvi, 34; Luke xxii, 34; John xiii, 38) but that only one
denial actually took place before the cock crew (Mark xiv, 68). That the
first denial by Peter that he knew Jesus, or was one of his disciples,
was at the door to the damsel, (John xviii, 17) but was inside while
sitting by the fire, (Luke xxii, 57) that the second denial was to a
man, and apparently still sitting by the fire (Luke xvii, 58), but was
to a maid when he was gone out into the porch. That these denials, or at
any rate, the last denial, were all in the presence of Jesus (Luke xvii,
61), who turned and looked at Peter, but that the first denial was at
the door, Jesus being inside the palace, the second denial out in the
porch, Jesus being still inside (Mark xiv, 69), and the third denial
also outside. The refutation of these paltry objections is so simple,
that any little child could give it, and none but an infidel would need
to hear it, we therefore refrain from penning it. None but a disciple of
Paine, or follower of Voltaire, would permit himself to be drawn to the
risk of damnation on the mere question as to when some cock happened to
crow, or as to the particular spot on which a recreant apostle denied
his master. It is the merest justice to Peter to add that his disloyalty
to Jesus was shared by his co-apostles. When Jesus was arrested “all
the disciples forsook him and fled” (Matthew xxvi, 56). The true
believer may sometimes be puzzled that Peter should so deny Jesus after
he, Peter, had seen (Matthew xvii, 3-5) Moses and Elias, who had been
dead many centuries, talking with Jesus, and had heard “a voice out
of the cloud which said, this is my beloved son, in whom I am well
pleased.” The unbeliever must not allow himself to be puzzled by this.
Two of the twelve apostles, whose names are not given, saw Jesus after
he was dead, on the road to Emmaus, but they did not know him; towards
evening they knew him, and he vanished out of their sight. In broad
daylight they did not know him, at evening time they knew him. While
they did not know him they could see him, when they did know him they
could not see him. Well may true believers declare that the ways of the
Lord are wonderful. One of the apostles, Thomas, called Didymus, set the
world an example of unbelief. He disbelieved the other disciples when
they said to him, “we have seen the Lord,” and required to see
Jesus, though dead, alive in the flesh, and touch the body of his
crucified master. Thomas the apostle had his requirements complied with
—he saw, he touched, and he believed. The great merit is to believe
without any evidence—“He that believeth and is baptized shall be
saved, he that believeth not shall be damned.” How it was that Thomas
the apostle did not know Jesus when he saw him shortly after near the
sea of Tiberias, is another of the mysteries of the Holy Christian
religion. The acts of the apostles after the death of Jesus deserve
treatment in a separate paper; the present essay is issued to aid the
members of the Church Congress in their endeavors to stem the rising
tide of infidelity.


.. clearpage::

THE ATONEMENT
=============

“*Quel est donc ce Dieu qui fait mourir Dieu pour apaiser Dieu?*”

.. dropcap:: T THE


THE chief feature of the Christian religion is that Jesus, the Son of
God, “very God of very God,” sacrificed himself, or was sacrificed
by God the Father, to atone for Adam’s transgression, some 4,000 years
before, against a divine command. It is declared in the New Testament,
in clear and emphatic language, that in consequence of the one
man Adam’s sin, death entered into the world, and judgment and
condemnation came upon all men. It is also declared that “Christ
died for the ungodly;” “that he died for our sins,” and “was
delivered for our offences.” On the one hand it is urged that Adam,
the sole source of the human family, offended deity, and that the
consequence of this offence was the condemnation to death, after a
life of sorrow, of the entire race. On the other side of the picture is
portrayed the love of God, who sent his only beloved son to die—and
by his death procuring for all eternal life—to save the remnant of
humanity from the further vengeance of their all-merciful heavenly
father. The religion of Christ finds its source in the forbidden fruit
of the yet undiscovered Garden of Eden.

Adam’s sin is the corner-stone of Christianity, the keystone of the
arch. Without the fall there is no redeemer, for there is no fallen one
to be redeemed. It is, then, to the history of Adam that the critical
examinant of the Atonement theory should first direct his attention.
But to try the doctrine of the Atonement by the aid of science would be
fatal to religion. As for the one man Adam,

6,000 years ago the first of the human race, his existence is not only
unvouched for by science, but is actually questioned by the timid, and
repudiated by the bolder, exponents of modern ethnology. The human race
is traced back far beyond the period fixed for Adam’s sin. Egypt and
India speak for humanity busy with wars, rival dynasties, and religions,
long prior to the date given for the garden scene in Eden.

The fall of Adam could not have brought sin upon mankind, and death by
sin, if hosts of men and women so lived and died ages before the words
“thou shalt surely die” were spoken by God to man.

Nor could all men inherit Adam’s misfortune if it be true that it is
not to one but to many centres of origin that we ought to trace back the
various races of mankind.

The theologian who finds no evidence of death prior to the offence
shared by Adam and Eve is laughed to scorn by the geologist, who points
to the innumerable petrifactions in the earth’s strata, which with a
million tongues declare, more potently than loudest speech, that myriads
of myriads of living things ceased their life-struggle incalculable ages
before man’s era on our world.

Science has so little to offer in support of any religious doctrine, and
so much to advance against all purely theologic tenets, that we turn to
a point giving the Christian greater vantage ground, and accepting for
the moment his scriptures as our guide, we deny that he can maintain the
possibility of Adam’s sin, and yet consistently affirm the existence
of an all-wise, all-powerful, and all-good God. Did Adam sin? We take
the Christian’s Bible in our hands to answer the question, first
defining the word sin. What is sin? Samuel Taylor Coleridge says: “A
sin is an evil which has its ground or origin in the agent, and not in
the compulsion of circumstances. Circumstances are compulsory from the
absence of a power to resist or control them, and if this absence be
likewise the effect of circumstances (that is, if it have been neither
directly nor indirectly caused by the agent himself) the evil derived
from the circumstance, and therefore such evil is not sin, and the
person who suffers it, or is the compelled actor or instrument of
its infliction on others, may feel regret, but not remorse. Let us
generalise the word circumstance so as to understand by it all and
everything not connected with the will.... Even though it were the warm
blood circulating in the chambers of the heart or man’s most inmost
sensations, we regard them as circumstantial, extrinsic, or from
without.... An act to be sin must be original, and a state or act that
has not its origin in the will may be calamity, deformity, or disease,
but sin it cannot be. It is not enough that the act appears so
voluntary, or that it has the most hateful passions or debasing appetite
for its proximate cause and accompaniment. All these may be found in a
madhouse, where neither law nor humanity permit us to condemn the actor
of sin. The reason of law declared the maniac not a free agent, and the
verdict followed of course, *not guilty*.” Did Adam sin?

The Bible story is that a Deity created one man and one woman; that he
placed them in a garden wherein he had also placed a tree, which was
good for food, pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make
one wise. That although he had expressly given the fruit of every tree
bearing seed for food, he, nevertheless, commanded them not to eat of
the fruit of this specially attractive tree under penalty of death.
Supposing Adam to have at once disobeyed this injunction, would it have
been sin? The fact that God had made the tree good for food, pleasant to
the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, should have surely
been sufficient justification. The God-created inducement to partake of
its fruit was strong and ever operative. The inhibition lost its value
as against the enticement. If the All-wise had intended the tree to
be avoided, would he have made its allurements so overpowering to
the senses? But the case does not rest here. In addition to all the
attractions of the tree, and as though there were not enough, there is
a subtle serpent gifted with suasive speech, who, either wiser or
more truthful than the All-perfect Deity, says that although God has
threatened immediate death as the consequence of disobedience to his
command, yet they “shall not die; for God doth know that in the day ye
eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing
good and evil.” The tempter is stronger than the tempted, the witchery
of the serpent is too great for the spell-bound woman, the decoy tree
is too potent in its temptations; overpersuaded herself by the
honey-tongued voice of the seducer, she plucks the fruit and gives to
her husband also. And for this giving way to a God-designed temptation
their offspring are to suffer God’s eternal, unforgiving wrath! The
yet unborn children are to be the victims of God’s vengeance on their
parents’ weakness—though he had made them weak; had created the
tempter sufficiently strong to practise upon this weakness; and
had arranged the causes, predisposing man and woman to commit the
offence—if indeed it be an offence to pluck the fruit of a tree which
gives knowledge to the eater. It is for this fall that Jesus is to
atone. He is sacrificed to redeem the world’s inhabitants from the
penalties for a weakness (for sin it was not) they had no share in. It
was not sin; for the man was influenced by circumstances prearranged by
Deity, and which man was powerless to resist or control. But if the man
was so influenced by such circumstances, it was God who influenced
the man—the God who punished the human race for an action to the
commission of which he impelled their progenitor.

Adam did not sin. He ate of the fruit of a tree which God had made good
to be eaten. He was induced to this through the indirect persuasion of a
serpent God had made for the very purpose of persuading him. But even if
Adam did sin, and even if he and Eve, his wife, were the first parents
of the whole human family, what have we to do with their sin? We, unborn
when the act was committed, and without choice as to coming into this
world amongst the myriad worlds which roll in the vast expanse of
solar and astral systems. Why should Jesus atone for Adam’s sin? Adam
suffered for his own offence; he, according to the curse, was to eat
in sorrow of the fruit of the earth all his life as punishment for his
offence. Atonement, after punishment, is surely a superfluity. Or was
the atonement only for those who needed no atonement, having no part in
the offence? Did the sacrifice of Jesus serve as atonement for the
whole world, and, if yes, for all sin, or for Adam’s sin only? If the
atonement is for the whole world, does it extend to unbelievers as well
as to believers in the efficacy? if it only includes believers, then
what has become of those generations who, according to the Bible, for
4,000 years succeeded each other in the world without faith in Christ
because without knowledge of his mission? Should not Jesus have come
4,000 years earlier, or, at least, should he not have come when the Ark
grounded on Ararat served as monument of God’s merciless vengeance,
which had made the whole earth like to a battle field, whereon the
omnipotent had crushed the feeble, and had marked his prowess by the
innumerable myriads of decaying dead? If it be declared that though the
atonement by Jesus only applies to believers in his mission so far as
regards human beings born since his coming, yet that it is wider in its
retrospective redeeming effect; then the answer is that it is unfair
to those born after Jesus to make faith the condition precedent to the
saving efficacy of atonement, especially if belief be required from all
mankind posterior to the Christian era, whether they have heard of Jesus
or not. Japanese, Chinese, Indians, Kaffirs, and others have surely a
right to complain of this atonement scheme, which ensures them eternal
damnation by making it requisite to believe in a Gospel of which they
have no knowledge. If it be contended that belief will only be required
from those to whom the Gospel of Jesus has been preached, and who have
had afforded to them the opportunity of its acceptance, then how great
a cause of complaint against Christian Missionaries have those peoples
who, without such missions, might have escaped damnation for unbelief.
The gates of hell are opened to them by the earnest propagandist, who
professes to show the road to heaven.

But does this atonement serve only to redeem the human family from the
curse inflicted by Deity in Eden’s garden for Adam’s sin, or does
it operate as satisfaction for all sin? If the salvation is from the
punishment for Adam’s sin alone, and if belief and baptism are, as
Jesus himself affirms, to be the conditions precedent to any saving
efficacy in the much-lauded atonement by the son of God, then what
becomes of a child that only lives a few hours, is never baptised,
and never having any mind, consequently never has any belief? Or what
becomes of one idiot-born who, throughout his dreary life, never has
mental capacity for the acceptance or examination of, or credence in any
religious dogmas whatever? Is the idiot saved who cannot believe? Is the
infant saved who cannot believe? I, with some mental faculties
tolerably developed, cannot believe. Must I be damned? If so, fortunate
short-lived babe! lucky idiot! That the atonement should not be
effective until the person to be saved has been baptised, that the
sprinkling of a few drops of water should quench the flames of hell, is
a remarkable feature in the Christian’s creed::

     “One can’t but think it somewhat droll,
     Pump-water thus should cleanse a soul.”

How many fierce quarrels have raged on the formula of baptism amongst
those loving brothers in Christ who believe he died for them! How
strange an idea that, though God has been crucified to redeem mankind,
it yet needs the font of water to wash away the lingering stain of
Adam’s crime.

One minister of the Church of England, occupying the presidential chair
of a well-known training college for Church clergymen in the North of
England, seriously declared, in the presence of a large auditory and of
several church dignitaries, that the sin of Adam was so potent in its
effect, that if a man *had never been born, he would yet have been
damned for sin*. That is, he declared that man existed before birth,
and that he committed sin before he was born; and if never born, would
notwithstanding deserve to suffer eternal torment for that sin.

It is almost impossible to discuss seriously a doctrine so monstrously
absurd, and yet it is not one whit more ridiculous than the ordinary
orthodox and terrible doctrine, that God the undying, in his infinite
love, killed himself under the form of his son to appease the cruel
vengeance of God, the just and merciful, who, without this, would have
been ever vengeful, unjust, and merciless.

The atonement theory, as presented to us by the Bible, is in effect as
follows:—God created man surrounded by such conditions as the divine
mind chose, in the selection of which man had no voice, and the effects
of which on man were all foreknown and predestined by Deity. The result
was man’s fall on the very first temptation, so frail the nature with
which he was endowed, or so powerful the temptation to which he was
subjected. For this fall not only did the all-merciful punish Adam, but
also his posterity; and this punishing went on for many centuries, until
God, the immutable, changed his purpose of continual condemnation of men
for sins they had no share in, and was wearied with his long series of
unjust judgments on those whom he created in order that he might judge
them. That, then, God sent his son, who was himself and was also his
own father, and who was immortal, to die upon the cross, and, by this
sacrifice, to atone for the sin which God himself had caused Adam to
commit, and thus to appease the merciless vengeance of the All-merciful,
which would otherwise have been continued against men yet unborn for an
offence they could not have been concerned in or accessory to. Whether
those who had died before Christ’s coming are redeemed, the Bible does
not clearly tell us. Those born after are redeemed only on condition of
their faith in the efficacy of the sacrifice offered, and in the truth
of the history of Jesus’s life. The doctrine of salvation by sacrifice
of human life is the doctrine of a barbarous and superstitious age: the
outgrowth of a brutal and depraved era. The God who accepts the bloody
offering of an innocent victim in lieu of punishing the guilty culprit
shows no mercy in sparing the offender: he has already satiated his lust
for vengeance on the first object presented to him.

Sacrifice is an early, prominent, and with slight exception an abiding
feature in the Hebrew record—sacrifice of life finds appreciative
acceptance from the Jewish Deity. Cain’s offering of fruits is
ineffective, but Abel’s altar, bearing the firstlings of his flock and
the fat thereof, finds respect in the sight of the Lord. While the
face of the earth was disfigured by the rotting dead after God in his
infinite mercy had deluged the world, then it was that the ascending
smoke from Noah’s burnt sacrifice of bird and beast produced pleasure
in heaven, and God himself smelled a sweet savor from the roasted meats.
To preach atonement for the past by sacrifice is worse than folly—it
is crime. The past can never be recalled, and the only reference to it
should be that, by marking its events, we may avoid its evil deeds and
improve upon its good ones. The Levitical doctrine of the atonement,
with its sin laden scapegoat sent into the wilderness to the evil demon
Azazel, though placed in the Pentateuch, is of much later date, being
one of the myths acquired by the Jews during their captivity. The
general notion of atonement by sacrifice is that of an averting of the
just judgment by an offering which may induce the judge, who in this
case is also the executioner, to delay or remit the punishment he has
awarded. In the gospel atonement story the weird folly of the scapegoat
mystery and the barbarous waste of doves, pigeons, rams, and bulls as
burnt offerings are all outdone. We have in lieu of these the history of
the Man-God subject to human passions and infirmities, who comes to die,
and who prays to his heavenly father—that is, to himself—that he
will spare him the bitter cup of death; who is betrayed, having himself,
ere he laid the foundations of the world, predestined Judas to betray
him; and who dies, being God immortal, crying with his almost dying
breath—“My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?”


.. clearpage::

WHEN WERE OUR GOSPELS WRITTEN?
==============================

AN ANSWER TO THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY


PREFATORY NOTE TO FOURTH EDITION

SINCE this pamphlet was originally penned in 1867, the author of
“Supernatural Religion” has in his three volumes placed a very
storehouse of information within the easy reach of every student, and
many of Dr. Tischendorf’s reckless statements have been effectively
dealt with in that masterly work. In the present brief pamphlet there
is only the very merest index to matters which in “Supernatural
Religion” are exhaustively treated. Part II of “The Freethinkers’
Text-Book,” by Mrs Besant, has travelled over the same ground with
much care, and has given exact reference to authorities on each point.


.. dropcap:: T THE

THE Religious Tract Society, some time since, issued, prefaced with
their high commendation, a translation of a pamphlet by Dr. Constantine
Tischendorf, entitled “When were our Gospels Written?” In the
introductory preface we are not unfairly told that “on the credibility
of the four Gospels the whole of Christianity rests, as a building on
its foundations.” It is proposed in this brief essay to deal with
the character of Dr. Tischendorf’s advocacy, then to examine the
genuineness of the four Gospels, as affirmed by the Religious Tract
Society’s pamphlet, and at the same time to ascertain, so far as is
possible in the space, how far the Gospel narrative is credible.

The Religious Tract Society state that Dr. Teschendorf’s *brochure* is
a repetition of “arguments for the genuineness and authenticity of the
four Gospels,” which the erudite Doctor had previously published for
the learned classes, “with explanations” now given in addition, to
render the arguments “intelligible” to meaner capacities; and as the
“Infidel” and “Deist” are especially referred to as likely to be
overthrown by this pamphlet, we may presume that the society considers
that in the 119 pages—which the translated essay occupies—they have
presented the best paper that can be issued on their behalf for popular
reading on this question. The praise accorded by the society, and sundry
laudations appropriated with much modesty in his own preface by Dr.
Constantine Tischendorf to himself, compel one at the outset to regard
the Christian manifesto as a most formidable production. The Society’s
translator impressively tells us that the pamphlet has been three times
printed in Germany and twice in France; that it has been issued in Dutch
and Russian, and is done into Italian by an Archbishop with the actual
approbation of the Pope. The author’s preface adds an account of
his great journeyings and heavy travelling expenses incurred out of an
original capital of a “few unpaid bills,” ending in the discovery of
a basketful of old parchments destined for the flames by the Christian
monks in charge, but which from the hands of Dr. Tischendorf are used by
the Religious Tract Society to neutralise all doubts, and to “blow
to pieces” the Rationalistic criticism of Germany and the coarser
Infidelity of England. Doubtless Dr. Tischendorf and the Society
consider it some evidence in favor of the genuineness and authenticity
of the four Gospels that the learned Doctor was enabled to spend 5,000
dollars out of less than nothing, and that the Pope regards his pamphlet
with favor, or they would not trouble to print such statements. We
frankly accord them the full advantage of any argument which may fairly
be based on such facts. An autograph letter of endorsement by the Pope
is certainly a matter which a Protestant Tract Society—who regard
“the scarlet whore at Babylon” with horror—may well be proud of.

Dr. Tischendorf states that he has since 1839 devoted himself to the
textual study of the New Testament, and it ought to be interesting to
the orthodox to know that, as a result of twenty-seven years’ labor,
he now declares that “it has been placed beyond doubt that the
original text... had in many places undergone such serious modifications
of meaning as to leave us in painful uncertainty as to what the apostles
had actually written,” and that “the right course to take” “is
to set aside the received text altogether and to construct a fresh
text.”

This is pleasant news for the true believer, promulgated by authority
of the managers of the great Christian depôt in Paternoster Row, from
whence many scores of thousands of copies of this incorrect received
text have nevertheless been issued without comment to the public,
even since the society have published in English Dr. Tischendorf s
declaration of its unreliable character.

With the modesty and honorable reticence peculiar to great men, Dr.
Tischendorf records his successes in reading hitherto unreadable
parchments, and we learn that he has received approval from “several
learned bodies, and even from crowned heads,” for his wonderful
performances. As a consistent Christian, who knows that the “powers
that be are ordained of God,” our “critic without rival,” for
so he prints himself, regards the praise of crowned heads as higher in
degree than that of learned bodies.

The Doctor discovered in 1844 the MS on which he now relies to confute
audacious Infidelity, in the Convent of St. Catherine at Sinai; he
brought away a portion, and handed that portion, on his return, to the
Saxon Government—they paying all expenses. The Doctor, however, did
not then divulge where he had found the MS. It was for the advantage
of humankind that the place should be known at once, for, at least, two
reasons. First, because by aid of the remainder of this MS—“the most
precious Bible treasure in existence”—the faulty text of the New
Testament was to be reconstructed; and the sooner the work was done the
better for believers in Christianity. And, secondly, the whole story
of the discovery might then have been more easily confirmed in every
particular.

For fifteen years, at least, Dr. Tischendorf hid from the world the
precise locality in which his treasure had been discovered. Nay, he was
even fearful when he knew that other Christians were trying to find
the true text, and he experienced “peculiar satisfaction” when
he ascertained that his silence had misled some pious searchers after
reliable copies of God’s message to all humankind; although all this
time he was well aware that our received copies of God’s revelation
had undergone “serious modifications” since the message had been
delivered from the Holy Ghost by means of the Evangelists.

In 1853, “nine years after the original discovery,” Dr. Tisch-endorf
again visited the Sinai convent, but although he had “enjoined on the
monks to take religious care” of the remains of which they, on the
former occasion, would not yield up possession, he, on this second
occasion, and apparently after careful search, discovered “eleven
short lines,” which convinced him that the greater part of the MS had
been destroyed. He still, however, kept the place secret, although he
had no longer any known reason for so doing; and, having obtained an
advance of funds from the Russian Government, he, in 1859, tried a
third time for his “pearl of St. Catherine,” which, in 1853, he felt
convinced had been destroyed, and as to which he had nevertheless, in
the meantime, been troubled by fears that the good cause might be
aided by some other than Dr. Tischendorf discovering and publishing the
“priceless treasure,” which, according to his previous statements,
he must have felt convinced did not longer exist. On this third journey
the Doctor discovered “the very fragments which, fifteen years before,
he had taken out of the basket,” “and also other parts of the Old
Testament, the New Testament complete, and, in addition, Barnabas and
part of Hermas.”

With wonderful preciseness, and with great audacity, Dr. Tischendorf
*refers* the transcription of the discovered Bible to the first half of
the fourth century. Have Dr. Tischendorf’s patrons here ever read of
MSS discovered in the same Convent of St. Catherine, at Sinai, of which
an account was published by Dr. Constantine Simonides, and concerning
which the *Westminster Review* said, “We share the suspicions, to use
the gentlest word which occurs to us, entertained, we believe, by all
competent critics and antiquarians.”

In 1863 Dr. Tischendorf published, at the cost of the Russian Emperor,
a splendid but very costly edition of his Sinaitic MS in columns, with
a Latin introduction. The book is an expensive one, and copies of it are
not very plentiful in England. Perhaps the Religious Tract Society have
not contributed to its circulation so liberally as did the pious
Emperor of all the Russias. Surely a text on which our own is to be
re-constructed ought to be in the hands at least of every English
clergyman and Young Men’s Christian Association.

“Christianity,” writes Dr. Tischendorf, “does not, strictly
speaking, rest on the moral teaching of Jesus;” “it rests on his
person only.” “If we are in error in believing in the person of
Christ as taught in the Gospels, then the Church herself is in error,
and must be given up as a deception.” “All the world knows that our
Gospels are nothing else than biographies of Christ.” “We have no
other source of information with respect to the life of Jesus.”

So that, according to the Religious Tract Society and its advocate, if
the credibility of the Gospel biography be successfully impugned, then
the foundations of Christianity are destroyed. It becomes, therefore, of
the highest importance to show that the biography of Jesus, as given in
the four Gospels, is absolutely incredible and self-contradictory.

It is alleged in the Society’s preface that all the objections of
infidelity have been hitherto unavailing. This is, however, not true. It
is rather the fact that the advocates of Christianity when defeated on
one point have shuffled to another, either quietly passing the topic
without further debate, or loudly declaring that the point abandoned
was really so utterly unimportant that it was extremely foolish in the
assailant to regard it as worthy attack, and that, in any case, all the
arguments had been repeatedly refuted by previous writers.

To the following objections to the Gospel narrative the writer refuses
to accept as answer, that they have been previously discussed and
disposed of.

The Gospels which are yet mentioned by the names popularly associated
with each do not tell us the hour, or the day, or the month, or—save
Luke—the year, in which Jesus was born. The only point on which the
critical divines, who have preceded Dr. Tischendorf, generally agree
is, that Jesus was not born on Christmas day. The Oxford Chronology,
collated with a full score of recognised authorities, gives us a period
of more than seven years within which to place the date. So confused
is the story as to the time of the birth, that while Matthew would
make Jesus born in the lifetime of Herod, Luke would fix the period of
Jesus’s birth as after Herod’s death.

Christmas itself is a day surrounded with curious ceremonies of pagan
origin, and in no way serving to fix the 25th December as the natal day.
Yet the exact period at which Almighty God, as a baby boy, entered
the world to redeem long-suffering humanity from the consequences of
Adam’s ancient sin, should be of some importance.

Nor is there any great certainty as to the place of birth of Christ. The
Jews, apparently in the very presence of Jesus, reproached him that
he ought to have been born at Bethlehem. Nathaniel regarded him as of
Nazareth. Jesus never appears to have said to either, “I was born at
Bethlehem.” In Matthew ii, 6, we find a quotation from the prophet:
“And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, art not the least amongst
the princes of Juda, for out of thee shall come a Governor that shall
rule my people-Israel.” Matthew lays the scene of the birth in
Bethlehem, and Luke adopts the same place, especially bringing the child
to Bethlehem for that purpose, and Matthew tells us it is done to fulfil
a prophecy. Micah v, 2, the only place in which similar words occur,
is not a prophecy referring to Jesus at all. The words are: “But thou
Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah,
yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in
Israel, whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.”
This is not quoted correctly in Matthew, and can hardly be said by any
straining of language to apply to Jesus. The credibility of a story
on which Christianity rests is bolstered up by prophecy in default of
contemporary corroboration. The difficulties are not lessened in tracing
the parentage. In Matthew i,

17, it is stated that “the generations from Abraham to David are
fourteen generations, and from David until the carrying away into
Babylon are fourteen generations, and from the carrying away into
Babylon unto Christ are fourteen generations.” Why has Matthew made
such a mistake in his computation of the genealogies—in the last
division we have only thirteen names instead of fourteen, even including
the name of Jesus? Is this one of the cases of “painful uncertainty”
which has induced the Religious Tract Society and Dr. Tischendorf to
wish to set aside the *textus receptus* altogether?

From David to Zorobabel there are in the Old Testament twenty
generations; in Matthew, seventeen generations; and in Luke,
twenty-three generations. In Matthew from David to Christ there are
twenty-eight generations, and in Luke from David to Christ forty-three
generations. Yet, according to the Religious Tract Society, it is on the
credibility of these genealogies as part of the Gospel history that
the foundation of Christianity rests. The genealogy in the first Gospel
arriving at David traces to Jesus through Solomon; the third Gospel
from David traces through Nathan. In Matthew the names from David are
Solomon, Roboam, Abia, Asa, Josaphat, Joram, Ozias; and in the Old
Testament we trace the same names from David to Ahaziah, whom I presume
to be the same as Ozias. But in 2nd Chronicles xxii, 11, we find one
Joash, who is not mentioned in Matthew at all. If the genealogy in
Matthew is correct, why is the name not mentioned? Amaziah is mentioned
in chap. xxiv, v. 27, and in chap. xxvi, v. 1, Uzziah, neither of whom
[is] mentioned in Matthew, where Ozias is named as begetting Jotham,
when in fact three generations of men have come in between. In Matthew
and Luke, Zorobabel is represented as the son of Salathiel, while in 1
Chronicles iii, 17-19, Zerubbabel is stated to be the son of Pedaiah,
the brother of Salathiel. Matthew says Abiud was the son of Zorobabel
(chap. i, v. 13). Luke iii, 27, says Zorobabel’s son was Rhesa. The
Old Testament contradicts both, and gives Meshullam, and Hananiah,
and Shelomith, their sister (1 Chronicles iii, 19), as the names of
Zorobabel’s children. Is this another piece of evidence in favor of
Dr. Tischendorfs admirable doctrine, that it is necessary to reconstruct
the text?

In the genealogies of Matthew and Luke there are only three names
agreeing after that of David, viz., Salathiel, Zorobabel, and
Joseph—all the rest are utterly different. The attempts at explanation
which have been hitherto offered, in order to reconcile these
genealogies, are scarcely creditable to the intellects of the Christian
apologists. They allege that “Joseph, who by nature was the son
of Jacob, in the account of the law was the son of Heli. For Heli and
Jacob were brothers by the same mother, and Heli, who was the elder,
dying without issue, Jacob, as the law directed, married his widow; in
consequence of such marriage, his son Joseph was reputed in the law the
son of Heli.” This is pure invention to get over a difficulty—an
invention not making the matter one whit more clear. For if you suppose
that these two persons were brothers, then unless you invent a death of
the mother’s last husband and the widow’s remarriage Jacob and Heli
would be the sons of the same father, and the list of the ancestors
should be identical in each genealogy. But to get over the difficulty
the pious do this. They say, although brothers, they were only
half-brothers; although sons of the same mother, they were not sons
of the same father, but had different fathers. If so, how is it that
Salathiel and Zorobabel occur as father and son in both genealogies?
Another fashion of accounting for the contradiction is to give one
as the genealogy of Joseph and the other as the genealogy of Mary.
“Which?” “Luke,” it is said. Why Luke? what are Luke’s words?
Luke speaks of Jesus being, “as was supposed, the son of Joseph, which
was the son of Heli.” When Luke says Joseph, the son of Heli, [does]
he mean Mary, the daughter of Heli? Does the Gospel say one thing and
mean another? because if that argument is worth anything, then in every
case where a man has a theory which disagrees with the text, he may say
the text means something else. If this argument be permitted we must
abandon in Scriptural criticism the meaning which we should ordinarily
intend to convey by any given word. If you believe Luke meant daughter,
why does the same word mean son in every other case all through the
remainder of the genealogy? And if the genealogy of Matthew be that of
Joseph, and the genealogy of Luke be that of Mary, they ought not
to have any point of agreement at all until brought to David. They,
nevertheless, do agree and contradict each other in several places,
destroying the probability of their being intended as distinct
genealogies. There is some evidence that Luke does not give the
genealogy of Mary in the Gospel itself. We are told that Joseph went to
Bethlehem to be numbered because he was of the house of David: if it had
been Mary it would have surely said so. As according to the Christian
theory, Joseph was not the father of Jesus, it is not unfair to ask how
it can be credible that Jesus’s genealogy could be traced to David in
any fashion through Joseph?

So far from Mary being clearly of the tribe of Judah (to which the
genealogy relates) her cousinship to Elizabeth would make her rather
appear to belong to the tribe of Levi.

To discuss the credibility of the miraculous conception and birth would
be to insult the human understanding. The mythologies of Greece, Italy,
and India, give many precedents of sons of Gods miraculously born.
Italy, Greece, and India, must, however, yield the palm to Judea. The
incarnate Chrishna must give way to the incarnate Christ. A miraculous
birth would be scouted today as monstrous; antedate it 2,000 years and
we worship it as miracle.

Matt. i, 22, 23, says: “Now all this was done, that it might be
fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Behold, a
virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall
call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” This
is supposed to be a quotation from Isaiah vii, 14-16: “Therefore the
Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold a virgin shall conceive, and
bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Butter and honey shall
he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose the good. For
before the child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good, the
land that thou abhorrest shall be forsaken of both her kings.”

But in this, as indeed in most other cases of inaccurate quotation, the
very words are omitted which would show its utter inapplicability to
Jesus. Even in those which are given, the agreement is not complete.
Jesus was not called Emmanuel. And even if his mother Mary were a
virgin, this does not help the identity, as the word OLME in Isaiah,
rendered “virgin” in our version, does not convey the notion of
virginity, for which the proper word is BeThULE; OLME is used of
a youthful spouse recently married. The allusion to the land being
forsaken of both her kings, omitted in Matthew, shows how little the
passage is prophetic of Jesus.

The story of the annunciation made to Joseph in one Gospel, to Mary
in the other, is hardly credible on any explanation. If you assume the
annunciations as made by a God of all-wise purpose, the purpose should,
at least, have been to prevent doubt of Mary’s chastity; but the
annunciation is made to Joseph only after Mary is suspected by Joseph.
Two annunciations are made, one of them in a dream to Joseph, when he is
suspicious as to the state of his betrothed wife; the other made by
the angel Gabriel (whoever that angel may be) to Mary herself, who
apparently conceals the fact, and is content to be married, although
with child not by her intended husband. The statement—that Mary being
found with child by the Holy Ghost, her husband, not willing to make
her a public example, was minded to put her away privily—is quite
incredible. If Joseph found her with child *by the Holy Ghost*, how
could he even think of making a public example of her shame when there
was nothing of which she could be ashamed—nothing, if he believed
in the Holy Ghost, of which he need have been ashamed himself, nothing
which need have induced him to wish to put her away privily. It is
clear—according to Matthew—that Mary was found with child, and that
the Holy Ghost parentage was not even imagined by Joseph until after he
had dreamed about the matter.

Although the birth of Jesus was specially announced by an angel,
and although Mary sang a joyful song consequent on the annunciation,
corroborated by her cousin’s greeting, yet when Simeon speaks of the
child, in terms less extraordinary, Joseph and Mary are surprised at it
and do not understand it. Why were they surprised? Is it credible that
so little regard was paid to the miraculous annunciation? Or is
this another case of the “painful uncertainty” alluded to by Dr.
Teschendorf?

Again, when Joseph and Mary found the child Jesus in the temple, and
he says, “Wist ye not that I must be about my father’s business?”
they do not know what he means, so that either what the angel had said
had been of little effect, or the annunciations did not occur at all.
Can any reliance be placed on a narrative so contradictory? An angel was
specially sent to acquaint a mother that her son about to be born is the
Son of God, and yet that mother is astonished when her son says, “Wist
ye not I must be about my father’s business?”

The birth of Jesus was, according to Matthew, made publicly known by
means of certain wise men. These men saw his star in the East, but
it did not tell them much, for they were obliged to come and ask
information from Herod the King. Is astrology credible? Herod inquired
of the chief priests and scribes; and it is evident Jeremiah was right,
if he said, “The prophets prophesy falsely and the priests bear rule
by their means,” for these chief priests misquoted to suit their
purposes, and invented a false prophecy by omitting a few words from,
and adding a few words to, a text until it suited their purpose. The
star, after they knew where to go, and no longer required its aid, went
before them, until it came and stood over where the young child was. The
credibility of this will be better understood if the reader notice some
star, and then see how many houses it will be over. Luke does not seem
to have been aware of the star story, and he relates about an angel who
tells some shepherds the good tidings, but this last-named adventure
does not appear to have happened in the reign of Herod at all. Is it
credible that Jesus was born twice? After the wise men had left Jesus,
an angel warned Joseph to flee with him and Mary into Egypt, and Joseph
did fly, and remained there with the young child and his mother until
the death of Herod; and this, it is alleged, was done to fulfil a
prophecy. On referring to Hosea xi, 1,

we find the words have no reference whatever to Jesus, and that,
therefore, either the tale of the flight is invented as a fulfilment of
the prophecy, or the prophecy manufactured to support the tale of the
flight. The Jesus of Luke never went into Egypt at all in his childhood.
Directly after the birth of the child his parents instead of flying away
because of persecution into Egypt, went peacefully up to Jerusalem to
fulfil all things according to the law, returned thence to Nazareth, and
apparently dwelt there, going up to Jerusalem every year until Jesus was
twelve years of age.

In Matthew ii, 15, we are told that Jesus remained in Egypt, “That it
might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet saying,
Out of Egypt have I called my son.” In Hosea ii, 1, we read, “When
Israel was a child, then I loved him, and called my son out of Egypt.”
In no other prophet is there any similar text. This not only is not a
prophecy of Jesus, but is, on the contrary, a reference to the Jewish
Exodus from Egypt. Is the prophecy manufactured to give an air of
credibility to the Gospel history, or how will the Religious Tract
Society explain it? The Gospel writings betray either a want of good
faith, or great incapacity on the part of their authors in the mode
adopted of distorting quotations from the Old Testament?

When Jesus began to be about thirty years of age he was baptised by John
in the river Jordan. John, who, according to Matthew, knew him, forbade
him directly he saw him; but, according to the writer of the fourth
Gospel, he knew him not, and had, therefore, no occasion to forbid him.
God is an “invisible” “spirit,” whom no man hath seen (John i,
18), or can see (Exodus xxxiii, 20); but the man John saw the spirit of
God descending like a dove. God is everywhere, but at that time was in
heaven, from whence he said, “This is my beloved son, in whom I am
well pleased.” Although John heard this from God’s own mouth, he
some time after sent two of his disciples to Jesus to inquire if he were
really the Christ (Matthew xi, 2, 3). Yet it is upon the credibility
of this story, says Dr. Teschendorf, that Christianity rests like a
building on its foundations.

It is utterly impossible John could have known and not have known Jesus
at the same time. And if, as the New Testament states, God is infinite
and invisible, it is incredible that as Jesus stood in the river to be
baptised, the Holy Ghost was seen as it descended on his head as a dove,
and that God from heaven said, “This is my beloved son, in whom I
am well pleased.” Was the indivisible and invisible spirit of God
separated in three distinct and two separately visible persons? How do
the Religious Tract Society reconcile this with the Athanasian Creed?

The baptism narrative is rendered doubtful by the language used as to
John, who baptised Jesus. It is said, “This is he that was spoken
of by the prophet Esaias, saying, The voice of one crying in the
wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”
Isaiah xl, 1-5, is, “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.
Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her that her warfare is
accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned; for she hath received of
the Lord’s hand double for all her sins. The voice of him that crieth
in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the
desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and every
mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made
straight, and the rough places plain: and the glory of the Lord shall be
revealed.” These verses have not the most remote relation to John? And
this manufacture of prophecies for the purpose of bolstering up a tale,
serves to prove that the writer of the Gospel tries by these to impart
an air of credibility to an otherwise incredible story.

Immediately after the baptism, Jesus is led up of the Spirit into the
wilderness to be tempted of the Devil. There he fasts forty days and
forty nights.

John says, in chapter i, 35, “Again, the next day after, John stood
and two of his disciples; and looking upon Jesus as he walked, he said,
behold the Lamb of God. And the two disciples heard him speak, and
they followed Jesus.” Then, at the 43rd verse, he says, “The day
following Jesus would go forth into Galilee, and findeth Philip, and
saith unto him, follow me.” And in chapter ii, 1, he says, “And the
third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of
Jesus was there; and both Jesus was called and his disciples unto
the marriage.” According to Matthew, there can be no doubt that
immediately after the baptism Jesus went into the wilderness to be
tempted of the Devil. And we are to believe that Jesus was tempted of
the Devil and fasting in the wilderness, and at the same time feasting
at a marriage in Cana of Galilee? Is it possible to believe that Jesus
actually did fast forty days and forty nights? If Jesus did not fast in
his capacity as man, in what capacity did he fast? And if Jesus fasted,
being God, the fast would be a mockery; and the account that he became a
hungered must be wrong. It is barely possible that in some very abnormal
condition or cataleptic state, or state of trance, a man might exist,
with very slight nourishment or without food, but that a man could
walk about, speak, and act, and, doing this, live forty days and nights
without food is simply an impossibility.

Is the story that the Devil tempted Jesus credible? If Jesus be God,
can the Devil tempt God? A clergyman of the Church of England writing on
this says: “That the Devil should appear personally to the Son of God
is certainly not more wonderful than that he should, in a more remote
age, have appeared among the sons of God, in the presence of God
himself, to torment the righteous Job. But that Satan should carry
Jesus bodily and literally through the air, first to the top of a high
mountain, and then to the topmost pinnacle of the temple, is wholly
inadmissable, it is an insult to our understanding, and an affront to
our great creator and redeemer.” Supposing, despite the monstrosity of
such a supposition, an actual Devil—and this involves the dilemma that
the Devil must either be God-created, or God’s co-eternal rival; the
first supposition being inconsistent with God’s goodness, and the
second being inconsistent with his power; but supposing such a Devil,
is it credible that the Devil should tempt the Almighty maker of the
universe with “all these will I give thee if thou wilt fall down and
worship me?”

In the very names of the twelve Apostles there is an uncertainty as
to one, whose name was either Lebbæus, Thaddæus, or Judas. It is
in Matthew x, 3, alone that the name of Lebbæus is mentioned,
thus—“Lebbæus, whose surname was Thaddæus.” We are told, on this
point, by certain Biblicists, that some early MSS have not the words
“whose surname was Thaddæus,” and that these words have probably
been inserted to reconcile the Gospel according to Matthew with that
attributed to Mark. In the English version of the Rheims Testament
used in this country by our Roman Catholic brethren, the reconciliation
between Matthew and Mark is completed by omitting the words “Lebbæus
whose surname was,” leaving only the name “Thaddæus” in
Matthew’s text. The revised version of the New Testament now agrees
with the Rheims version, and the omission will probably meet with the
entire concurrence of Dr. Tischendorf and the Religious Tract Society,
now they boast autograph letters of approval from the infallible head of
the Catholic Church. If Matthew x, 3, and Mark iii,

18, be passed as reconciled, although the first calls the twelfth
disciple Lebbæus, and the second gives him the name Thaddæus; there
is yet the difficulty that in Luke vi, 16, corroborated by John xiv, 22,
there is a disciple spoken of as “Judas, not Iscariot,” “Judas,
the brother of James.” Commentators have endeavored to clear away this
last difficulty by declaring that Thaddæus is a Syriac word, having
much the same meaning as Judas. This has been answered by the objection
that if Matthew’s Gospel uses Thad-dæus in lieu of Judas, then he
ought to speak of Thaddæus Iscariot, which he does not; and it is
further objected also that while there are some grounds for suggesting
a Hebrew original for the Gospel attributed to Matthew, there is not
the slightest pretence for alleging that Matthew wrote in Syriac. The
Gospels also leave us in some doubt as to whether Matthew is Levi, or
whether Matthew and Levi are two different persons.

The account of the calling of Peter is replete with contradictions.
According to Matthew, when Jesus first saw Peter, the latter was in a
vessel fishing with his brother Andrew, casting a net into the sea of
Galilee. Jesus walking by the sea said to them—

“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” The two brothers
did so, and they became Christ’s disciples. When Jesus called Peter
no one was with him but his brother Andrew. A little further on, the two
sons of Zebedee were in a ship with their father mending nets, and
these latter were separately called. From John, we learn that Andrew was
originally a disciple of John the Baptist, and that when Andrew first
saw Jesus, Peter was not present, but Andrew went and found Peter who,
if fishing, must have been angling on land, telling him “we have found
the Messiah,” and that Andrew then brought Peter to Jesus, who said,
“Thou art Simon, the son of Jonas; thou shalt be called Cephas.”
There is no mention in John of the sons of Zebedee being a little
further on, or of any fishing in the sea of Galilee. This call is
clearly on land. Luke’s Gospel states that when the call took place,
Jesus and Peter were both at sea. Jesus had been preaching to the
people, who pressing upon him, he got into Simon’s ship, from which he
preached. After this he directed Simon to put out into the deep and let
down the nets. Simon answered, “Master, we have toiled all night and
taken nothing; nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net.” No
sooner was this done, than the net was filled to breaking, and Simon’s
partners, the two sons of Zebedee, came to help, when at the call of
Jesus, they brought their ships to land, and followed him.

Is it credible that there were three several calls, or that the Gospels
being inspired, you could have three contradictory versions of the same
event? Has the story been here “painfully modified,” or how do Dr.
Tischendorf and the Religious Tract Society clear up the matter? Is it
credible that, as stated in Luke, Jesus had visited Simon’s house, and
cured Simon’s wife’s mother, before the call of Simon, but did not
go to Simon’s house for that purpose, until after the call of Simon,
as related in Matthew? It is useless to reply that the date of Jesus’s
visit is utterly unimportant, when we are told that it is upon the
credibility of the complete narrative that Christianity must rest. Each
stone is important to the building, and it is not competent for the
Christian advocate to regard as useless any word which the Holy Ghost
has considered important enough to reveal.

Are the miracle stories credible? Every ancient nation has had its
miracle workers, but modern science has relegated all miracle history
to realms of fable, myth, illusion, delusion, or fraud. Can Christian
miracles be made, the exceptions? Is it likely that the nations amongst
whom the dead were restored to life would have persistently ignored the
author of such miracles? Were the miracles purposeless, or if intended
to convince the Jews, was God unable to render his intentions effective?
That five thousand persons should be fed with five loaves and two
fishes, and that an apparent excess should remain beyond the original
stock, is difficult to believe; but that shortly after this—Jesus
having to again perform a similar miracle for four thousand
persons—his own disciples should ignore his recent feat, and wonder
from whence the food was to be derived, is certainly startlingly
incredible. If this exhibition of incredulity were pardonable on the
part of the twelve apostles, living witnesses of greater wonders, how
much more pardonable the unbelief of the sceptic of to-day, which the
Religious Tract Society seek to overcome by a faint echo of asserted
events all contrary to probability, and with nineteen centuries
intervening.

The casting out the devils presents phænomena requiring considerable
credulity, especially the story of the devils and the swine. To-day
insanity is never referable to demoniacal possession, but eighteen
hundred years ago the subject of lunacy had not been so patiently
investigated as it has been since. That one man could now be tenanted
by several devils is a proposition for which the maintainer would in the
present generation incur almost universal contempt; yet the repudiation
of its present possibility can hardly be consistent with implicit
credence in its ancient history. That the devils and God should hold
converse together, although not without parallel in the book of Job,
is inconsistent with the theory of an infinitely good Deity; that the
devils should address Jesus as son of the most high God, and beg to be
allowed to enter a herd of swine, is at least ludicrous; yet all this
helps to make up the narrative on which Dr. Tischendorf relies. That
Jesus being God should pray to his Father that “the cup might pass
from” him is so incredible that even the faithful ask us to regard
it as mystery. That an angel from heaven could strengthen Jesus, the
almighty God, is equally mysterious. That where Jesus had so prominently
preached to thousands, the priests should need any one like Judas to
betray the founder of Christianity with a kiss, is absurd; his escapade
in flogging the dealers, his wonderful cures, and his raising Lazarus
and Jairus’s daughter should have secured him, if not the nation’s
love, faith, and admiration, at least a national reputation and
notoriety. It is not credible if Judas betrayed Jesus by a kiss that
the latter should have been arrested upon his own statement that he was
Jesus. That Peter should have had so little faith as to deny his divine
leader three times in a few hours is only reconcilable with the notion
that he had remained unconvinced by his personal intercourse with the
incarnate Deity. The mere blunders in the story of the denial sink into
insignificance in face of this major difficulty. Whether the cock did
or did not crow before the third denial, whether Peter was or was not
in the same apartment with Jesus at the time of the last denial, are
comparatively trifling questions, and the contradictions on which they
are based may be the consequence of the errors which Dr. Tischendorf
says have crept into the sacred writings.

Jesus said, “as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of
the whale, so shall the son of man be three days and three nights in
the heart of the earth.” Jesus was crucified on Friday, was buried on
Friday evening, and yet the first who went to the grave on the night
of Saturday as it began to dawn towards Sunday, found the body of Jesus
already gone. Did Jesus mean he should be three days and three nights
in the grave? Is there any proof that his body remained in the grave for
three hours? Who went first to the grave? was it Mary Magdalene alone,
as in John, or two Marys as in Matthew, or the two Marys and Salome as
in Mark, or the two Marys, Joanna, and several unnamed women as in
Luke? To whom did did Jesus first appear? Was it, as in Mark, to Mary
Magdalene, or to two disciples going to Emmaus, as in Luke, or to the
two Marys near the sepulchre, as in Matthew? Is the eating boiled fish
and honeycomb by a dead God credible? Did Jesus ascend to heaven the
very day of his resurrection, or did an interval of nearly six weeks
intervene?

Is this history credible, contained as it is in four contradictory
biographies, outside which biographies we have, as Dr. Tisch-endorf
admits, “no other source of information with respect to the life
of Jesus?” This history of an earth-born Deity, descended through a
crime-tainted ancestry, and whose genealogical tree is traced through
one who was not his father; this history of an infinite God nursed as
a baby, growing through childhood to manhood like any frail specimen
of humanity; this history, garnished with bedevilled men, enchanted fig
tree, myriads of ghosts, and scores of miracles, and by such garnishment
made more akin to an oriental romance than to a sober history; this
picture of the infinite invisible spirit incarnate visible as man;
immutability subject to human passions and infirmities; the creator come
to die, yet wishing to escape the death which shall bring peace to his
God-tormented creatures; God praying to himself and rejecting his own
prayer; God betrayed by a divinely-appointed traitor; God the immortal
dying, and in the agony of the death-throes—stronger than the strong
man’s will—crying with almost the last effort of his dying breath,
that he being God, is God forsaken!

If all this be credible, what story is there any man need hesitate to
believe?

Dr. Tischendorf asks how it has been possible to impugn the credibility
of the four Gospels, and replies that this has been done by denying
that the Gospels were written by the men whose names they bear. In the
preceding pages it has been shown that the credibility of the Gospel
narrative is impugned because it is uncorroborated by contemporary
history, because it is self-contradictory, and because many of its
incidents are *prima facie* most improbable, and some of them utterly
impossible. Even English Infidels are quite prepared to admit that
the four Gospels may be quite anonymous; and yet, that their anonymous
character need be of no weight as an argument against their truth. All
that is urged on this head is that the advocates of the Gospel history
have sought to endorse and give value to the otherwise unreliable
narratives by a pretence that some of the Evangelists, at least, were
eyewitnesses of the events they refer to. Dr. Teschendorf says: “The
credibility of a writer clearly depends on the interval of time which
lies between him and the events which he describes. The farther the
narrator is removed from the facts which he lays before us the more his
claims to credibility are reduced in value.” Presuming truthfulness in
intention for any writer, and his ability to comprehend the facts he
is narrating, and his freedom from a prejudice which may distort the
picture he intends to paint correctly with his pen: we might admit
the correctness of the passage we have quoted; but can these always be
presumed in the case of the authors of the Gospels? On the contrary, a
presumption in an exactly opposite direction may be fairly raised from
the fact that immediately after the Apostolic age the Christian world
was flooded with forged testimonies in favor of the biography of Jesus,
or in favor of his disciples.

A writer in the *Edinburgh Review* observes: “To say nothing of such
acknowledged forgeries as the Apostolic constitutions and liturgies,
and the several spurious Gospels, the question of the genuineness of the
alleged remains of the Apostolic fathers, though often overlooked, is
very material. Any genuine remains of the ‘Apostle’ Barnabas, of
Hermas, the contemporary (Romans xvi, 14), and Clement, the highly
commended and gifted fellow laborer of St. Paul (Phil, iv, 3), could
scarcely be regarded as less sacred than those of Mark and Luke, of whom
personally we know less. It is purely a question of criticism. At the
present day, the critics best competent to determine it, have agreed in
opinion, that the extant writings ascribed to Barnabas and Hermas are
wholly spurious—the frauds of a later age. How much suspicion attaches
to the 1st Epistle of Clement (for the fragment of the second is also
generally rejected) is manifest from the fact, that in modern times
it has never been allowed the place expressly assigned to it among the
canonical books prefixed to the celebrated Alexandrian MS, in which
the only known copy of it is included. It must not be forgotten that
Ignatius expressly lays claim to inspiration, that Irenæus quotes
Hermas as Scripture, and Origen speaks of him as inspired, while
Polycarp, in modestly disclaiming to be put on a level with the
Apostles, clearly implies there would have been no essential distinction
in the way of his being ranked in the same order. But the question
is, how are these pretensions substantiated?” So far the *Edinburgh
Review*, certainly not an Infidel publication.

Eusebius, in his “Ecclesiastical History,” admits the existence of
many spurious gospels and epistles, and some writings put forward by him
as genuine, such as the correspondence between Jesus and Agbaras, have
since been rejected as fictitious. It is not an unfair presumption from
this that many of the most early Christians considered the then existing
testimonies insufficient to prove the history of Jesus, and good reason
is certainly afforded for carefully examining the whole of the evidences
they have bequeathed us.

On p. 48, Dr. Tischendorf quotes Irenæus, whose writings belong to the
extreme end of the second century, as though that Bishop must be taken
as vouching the four Gospels as we now have them. Yet, if the testimony
of Irenæus be reliable (“Against Heresies,” Book III, cap. i.)
the Gospel attributed to Matthew was believed to have been composed
in Hebrew, and Irenæus says that as the Jews desired a Messiah of the
royal line of David, Matthew having the same desire to a yet greater
degree, strove to give them full satisfaction. This may account for some
of the genealogical curiosities to which we have drawn attention,
but hardly renders Matthew’s Gospel more reliable; and how can the
suggestion that Matthew wrote in Hebrew prove that Matthew penned the
first Gospel, which has only existed in Greek? Irenæus, too, flatly
contradicts the Gospels by declaring that the ministry of Jesus extended
over ten years and that Jesus lived to be fifty years of age (“Against
Heresies,” Book II, cap. 22).

If the statement of Irenæus (“Against Heresies,” Book III, cap. xi)
that the fourth Gospel was written to refute the errors of Cerinthus and
Nicolaus, have any value, then the actual date of issue of the fourth
Gospel will be considerably after the others. Dr. Tischendorf’s
statement that Polycarp has borne testimony to the Gospel of John is not
even supported by the quotation on which he relies. All that is said in
the passage quoted (Eusebius, “Ecc. Hist,” Book V, cap. 20) is
that Irenæus when he was a child heard Polycarp repeat from memory
the discourses of John and others concerning Jesus. If the Gospels had
existed in the time of Polycarp it would have been at least as easy
to have read them from the MS as to repeat them from memory. Dr.
Tischendorf might also have added that the letter to Florinus, whence
he takes the passage on which he relies, exists only in the writings of
Eusebius, to whom we are indebted for many pieces of Christian evidence
since abandoned as forgeries. Dr. Tischendorf says: “Any testimony
of Polycarp in favor of the Gospel refers us back to the Evangelist
himself, for Polycarp, in speaking to Irenæus of this Gospel as the
work of his master, St. John, must have learned from the lips of the
apostle himself, whether he was its author or not.” Now, what evidence
is there that Polycarp ever said a single word as to the authorship of
the fourth Gospel, or of any Gospel, or that he even said that John
had penned a single word? In the Epistle to the Philippians (the only
writing attributed to Polycarp for which any genuine character is even
pretended), the Gospel of John is never mentioned, nor is there even a
single passage in the Epistle which can be identified with any passage
in the Gospel of John.

Surely Dr. Tischendorf forgot, in the eager desire to make his witnesses
bear good testimony, that the highest duty of an advocate is to make
the truth clear, not to put forward a pleasantly colored falsehood to
deceive the ignorant. It is not even true that Irenæus ever pretends
that Polycarp in any way vouched our fourth Gospel as having been
written by John, and yet Dr. Tischendorf had the cool audacity to say
“there is nothing more damaging to the doubters of the authenticity
of St. John’s Gospel than this testimony of St. Polycarp.” Do the
Religious Tract Society regard English Infidels as so utterly ignorant
that they thus intentionally seek to suggest a falsehood, or are the
Council of the Religious Tract Society themselves unable to test the
accuracy of the statements put forward on their behalf by the able
decipherer of illegible parchments? It is too much to suspect the
renowned Dr. Constantine Tischendorf of ignorance, yet even the coarse
English sceptic regrets that the only other alternative will be to
denounce him as a theological charlatan.

Dr. Mosheim, writing on behalf of Christianity, says that the Epistle of
Polycarp to the Philippians is by some treated as genuine and by others
as spurious, and that it is no easy matter to decide. Many critics, of
no mean order, class it amongst the apostolic Christian forgeries, but
whether the Epistle be genuine or spurious, it contains no quotation
from, it makes no reference to, the Gospel of John.

To what is said of Irenæus, Tertullian, and Clement of Alexandria, it
is enough to note that all these are after A.D. 150. Irenæus may be
put 177 to 200, Tertullian about 193, and Clement of Alexandria as
commencing the third century.

One of Dr. Tischendorf s most audacious flourishes is that (p. 49) with
reference to the Canon of Muratori, which we are told “enumerates
the books of the New Testament which, from the first, were considered
canonical and sacred,” and which “was written a little after the age
of Pius I, about A.D. 170.”

First the anonymous fragment contains books which were never accepted
as canonical; next, it is quite impossible to say when or by whom it was
written or what was its original language. Mura-tori, who discovered the
fragment in 1740, conjectured that it was written about the end of the
second or beginning of the third century, but it is noteworthy that
neither Eusebius nor any other of the ecclesiastical advocates of the
third, fourth, or fifth centuries, ever refers to it. It may be the
compilation of any monk at any date prior to 1740, and is utterly
valueless as evidence.

Dr. Tischendorfs style is well exemplified by the positive manner
in which he fixes the date A.D. 139 to the first apology of Justin,
although a critic so “learned” as the unrivalled Dr. Tischendorf
could not fail to be aware that more than one writer has supported the
view that the date of the first apology was not earlier than A.D. 145,
and others have contended for A.D. 150. The Benedictine editors of
Justin’s works support the latter date. Dr. Kenn argues for A.D.
155-160. On page 63, the Religious Tract Society’s champion appeals
to the testimony of Justin Martyr, but in order not to shock the devout
while convincing the profane, he omits to mention that more than half
the writings once attributed to Justin Martyr are now abandoned, as
either of doubtful character or actual forgeries, and that Justin’s
value as a witness is considerably weakened by the fact that he quotes
the acts of Pilate and the Sybilline Oracles as though they were
reliable evidence, when in fact they are both admitted specimens of “a
Christian forgery.” But what does Justin testify as to the Gospels?
Does he say that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were their writers? On
the contrary, not only do the names of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John
never occur as Evangelists in the writings of Justin, but he actually
mentions facts and sayings as to Jesus, which are not found in either of
the four Gospels. The very words rendered Gospels only occur where they
are strongly suspected to be interpolated, Justin usually speaking
of some writings which he calls “memorials” or “memoirs of the
Apostles.”

Dr. Tischendorf urges that in the writings of Justin the Gospels are
placed side by side with the prophets, and that “this undoubtedly
places the Gospels in the list of canonical books.” If this means that
there is any statement in Justin capable of being so construed, then Dr.
Tischendorf was untruthful. Justin does quote specifically the Sybilline
oracles, but never Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John. He quotes statements
as to Jesus, which may be found in the apocryphal Gospels, and which are
not found in ours, so that if the evidence of Justin Martyr be taken, it
certainly does not tend to prove, even in the smallest degree, that four
Gospels were specially regarded with reverence in his day. The Rev. W.
Sanday thinks that Justin did not assign an exclusive authority to our
Gospels, and that he made use also of other documents no longer extant
(“Gospels in 2nd Century,” p. 117).

On p. 94 it is stated that “as early as the time of Justin the
expression ‘the Evangel’ was applied to the four Gospels.” This
statement by Dr. Tischendorf and its publication by the Religious Tract
Society call for the strongest condemnation. Nowhere in the writings of
Justin are the words “the Evangel” applied to the four Gospels.

Lardner only professes to discover two instances in which the word
anglicised by Tischendorf as “Evangel,” occurs; [--Greek--] and
[--Greek--] the second being expressly pointed out by Schleiermacher as
an interpolation, and as an instance in which a marginal note has been
incorporated with the text; nor would one occurrence of such a word
prove that any book or books were so known by Justin, as the word is
merely a compound of good and [--Greek--] message; nor is there the
slightest foundation for the statement that in the time of Justin
the word Evangel was ever applied to designate the four Gospels now
attributed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Dr. Tischendorf (p. 46) admits that the “faith of the Church... would
be seriously compromised” if we do not find references to the Gospels
in writings between A.D. 100 and A.D. 150; and—while he does not
directly assert—he insinuates that in such writings the Gospels were
“treated with the greatest respect,” or “even already treated as
canonical and sacred writings;” and he distinctly affirms that the
Gospels “did see the light” during the “Apostolic age,” “and
before the middle of the second” century “our Gospels were held in
the highest respect by the Church,” although for the affirmation, he
neither has nor advances the shadow of evidence.

The phrases, “Apostolic age” and “Apostolic fathers” denote the
first century of the Christian era, and those fathers who are supposed
to have flourished during that period, and who are supposed to have seen
or heard, or had the opportunity of seeing or hearing, either Jesus
or some one or more of the twelve Apostles. Barnabas, Clement, Hermas,
Ignatius, and Polycarp, are those whose names figure most familiarly in
Christian evidences as Apostolic fathers. But the evidence from
these Apostolic fathers is of a most unreliable character. Mosheim
(“Ecclesiastical History,” cent. 1, cap. 2, sec. 3, 17) says
that “the Apostolic history is loaded with doubts, fables, and
difficulties,” and that not long after Christ’s ascension several
histories were current of his life and doctrines, full of “pious
frauds and fabulous wonders.” Amongst these were “The Acts of
Paul,” “The Revelation of Peter,” “The Gospel of Peter,”
“The Gospel of Andrew,” “The Gospel of John,” “The Gospel of
James,” “The Gospel of the Egyptians,” etc. The attempts often
made to prove from the writings of Barnabas, Ignatius, etc., the
prior existence of the four Gospels, though specifically unnamed, by
similarity of phraseology in quotations, is a failure, even admitting
for the moment the genuineness of the Apostolic Scriptures, if the
proof is intended to carry the matter higher than that such and such
statements were current in some form or other, at the date the fathers
wrote. As good an argument might be made that some of the Gospel
passages were adopted from the fathers. The fathers occasionally quote,
as from the mouth of Jesus, words which are not found in any of our
four Gospels, and make reference to events not included in the Gospel
narratives, clearly evidencing that even if the four documents ascribed
to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, were in existence, they were not the
only sources of information from which some of the Apostolic fathers
derived their knowledge of Christianity, and evidencing also that the
four Gospels had attained no such specific superiority as to entitle
them to special mention by name.

Of the epistle attributed to Barnabas, which is supposed by its
supporters to have been written in the latter part of the first century,
which, Paley says, is probably genuine, which is classed by Eusebius as
spurious (“Ecclesiastical History,” book iii, cap. 25), and which
Dr. Donaldson does not hesitate for one moment in refusing to ascribe to
Barnabas the Apostle (“Ante-Nicene Fathers,” vol. i, p. 100), it is
only necessary to say that so far from speaking of the Gospels with
the greatest respect, it does not mention by name any one of the four
Gospels. There are some passages in Barnabas which are nearly identical
in phraseology with some Gospel passages, and which it has been argued
are quotations from one or other of the four Gospels, but which may
equally be quotations from other Gospels, or from writings not in the
character of Gospels. There are also passages which are nearly identical
with several of the New Testament epistles, but even the great framer of
Christian evidences, Lardner, declares his conviction that none of
these last-mentioned passages are quotations, or even allusions, to the
Pauline or other epistolary writings. Barnabas makes many quotations
which clearly demonstrate that the four Gospels, if then in existence
and if he had access to them, could not have been his only source of
information as to the teachings of Jesus (e.g, cap. 7). “The Lord
enjoined that whosoever did not keep the fast should be put to death.”
“He required the goats to be of goodly aspect and similar, that when
they see him coming they may be amazed by the likeness to the goat.”
Says he, “those who wish to behold me and lay hold of my kingdom, must
through tribulation and suffering obtain me” (cap. 12). And the Lord
saith, “When a tree shall be bent down and again rise, and when blood
shall flow out of the wound.” Will the Religious Tract Society point
out from which of the Gospels these are quoted?

Barnabas (cap. 10) says that Moses forbade the Jews to eat weasel flesh,
“because that animal conceives with the mouth,” and forbad them to
eat the hyena because that animal annually changes its sex. This father
seems to have made a sort of *mélange* of some of the Pentateuchal
ordinances. He says (cap. 8) that the Heifer (mentioned in Numbers) was
a type of Jesus, that the *three* (?) young men appointed to sprinkle,
denote Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, that *wool was put upon a stick*
because the kingdom of Jesus was founded upon the cross, and (cap. 9)
that the 318 men *circumcised* by Abraham stood for Jesus crucified.
Barnabas also declared that the world was to come to an end in 6,000
years (“Freethinker’s Text-Book,” part ii, p. 268). In the
Sinaitic Bible, the Epistle of St. Barnabas has now, happily for
misguided Christians, been discovered in the original Greek. To quote
the inimitable style of Dr. Tischendorf, “while so much has been lost
in the course of centuries by the tooth of time and the carelessness
of ignorant monks, an invisible eye had watched over this treasure, and
when it was on the point of perishing in the fire, the Lord had decreed
its deliverance;” “while critics have generally been divided between
assigning it to the first or second decade of the second century, the
Sinaitic Bible, which has for the first time cleared up this question,
has led us to throw its composition as far back as the last decade of
the first century.” A fine specimen of Christian evidence writing,
cool assertion without a particle of proof and without the slightest
reason given. How does the Siniatic MS, even if it be genuine, clear up
the question of the date of St. Barnabas’s Epistle? Dr. Tischendorf
does not condescend to tell us what has led the Christian advocate to
throw back the date of its composition? We are left entirely in the
dark: in fact, what Dr. Tischendorf calls a “throw back,” is if
you look at Lardner just the reverse. What does the epistle of Barnabas
prove, even if it be genuine? Barnabas quotes, by name, Moses and
Daniel, but never Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. Barnabas specifically
refers to Deuteronomy and the prophets, but never to either of the four
Gospels.

There is an epistle attributed to Clement of Rome, which has been
preserved in a single MS only where it is coupled with another epistle
rejected as spurious. Dr. Donaldson (“Ante-Nicene Fathers,” vol.
i, p. 3) declares that who the Clement was to whom these writings are
ascribed cannot with absolute certainty be determined. Both epistles
stand on equal authority; one is rejected by Christians, the other is
received. In this epistle while there is a distinct reference to an
Epistle by Paul to the Corinthians, there is no mention by name of the
four Gospels, nor do any of the words attributed by Clement to Jesus
agree for any complete quotation with anyone of the Gospels as we have
them. The Rev. W. Sanday is frank enough to concede “that Clement is
not quoting directly from our Gospels.”

Is it probable that Clement would have mentioned a writing by Paul, and
yet have entirely ignored the four Gospels, if he had known that they
had then existed? And could they have easily existed in the Christian
world in his day without his knowledge? If anyone takes cap. xxv of this
epistle and sees the phoenix given as a historic fact, and as evidence
for the reality of the resurrection, he will be better able to
appreciate the value of this so-called epistle of Clement.

The letters of Ignatius referred to by Dr. Tischendorf are regarded by
Mosheim as laboring under many difficulties, and embarrassed with much
obscurity. Even Lardner, doing his best for such evidences, says, that
if we find matters in the Epistles inconsistent with the notion that
Ignatius was the writer, it is better to regard such passages as
interpolations, than to reject the Epistles entirely, especially in the
“scarcity” of such testimonies.

There are fifteen epistles of which eight are undisputedly forgeries. Of
the remaining seven there are two versions, a long and a short version,
one of which must be corrupt, both of which may be. These seven
epistles, however, are in no case to be accepted with certainty as those
of Ignatius. Dr. Cureton contends that only three still shorter epistles
are genuine (“Ante-Nicene Fathers,” vol. i, pp. 137 to 143). The
Rev. W. Sanday treats the three short ones as probably genuine, waiving
the question as to the others (“Gospels in Second Century,” p. 77,
and see preface to sixth edition “Supernatural Religion”). Ignatius,
however, even if he be the writer of the epistles attributed to him,
never mentions either of the four Gospels. In the nineteenth chapter of
the Epistle to the Ephesians, there is a statement made as to the birth
and death of Jesus, not to be found in either Matthew, Mark, Luke, or
John.

If the testimony of the Ignatian Epistles is reliable, then it vouches
that in that early age there were actually Christians who denied the
death of Jesus. A statement as to Mary in cap. nineteen of the Epistle
to the Ephesians is not to be found in any portion of the Gospels. In
his Epistle to the Trallians, Ignatius, attacking those who denied
the real existence of Jesus, would have surely been glad to quote the
evidence of eye witnesses like Matthew and John, if such evidence had
existed in his day. In cap. eight of the Epistles to the Philadelphians,
Ignatius says, “I have heard of some who say: Unless I find it in the
archives I will not believe the Gospel. And when I said it is written,
they answered that remains to be proved.” This is the most distinct
reference to any Christian writings, and how little does this support
Dr. Tischendorf’s position. From which of our four Gospels could
Ignatius have taken the words, “I am not an incorporeal demon,”
which he puts into the mouth of Jesus in cap. iii, the epistle to the
Smyrnæans? Dr. Tischendorf does admit that the evidence of the Ignatian
Epistles is not of decisive value; might he not go farther and say, that
as proof of the four Gospels it is of no value at all?

On page 70, Dr. Tischendorf quotes Hippolytus without any qualification.
Surely the English Religious Tract Society might have remembered
that Dodwell says, that the name of Hippolytus had been so abused by
impostors, that it was not easy to distinguish any of his writings. That
Mill declares that, with one exception, the pieces extant under his name
are all spurious. That, except fragments in the writings of opponents,
the works of Hip-polytus are entirely lost. Yet the Religious Tract
Society permit testimony so tainted to be put forward under their
authority, to prove the truth of Christian history. The very work which
Dr. Tischendorf pretends to quote is not even mentioned by Eusebius, in
the list he gives of the writings of Hippolytus.

On page 94, Dr. Tischendorf states that Basilides, before A.D. 138, and
Valentinus, about A.D. 140, make use of three out of four Gospels, the
first using John and Luke, the second, Matthew, Luke, and John. What
words of either Basilides or Valentinus exist anywhere to justify this
reckless assertion? Was Dr. Tisch-endorf again presuming on the utter
ignorance of those who are likely to read his pamphlet? The Religious
Tract Society are responsible for Dr. Tischendorf s allegations, which
it is impossible to support with evidence.

The issue raised is not whether the followers of Basilides or the
followers of Valentinus may have used these gospels, but whether there
is a particle of evidence to justify Dr. Tischendorf s declaration, that
Basilides and Valentinus themselves used the above-named gospels. That
the four Gospels were well known during the second half of the first
century is what Dr. Tischendorf undertook to prove, and statements
attributed to Basilides and Valentinus, but which ought to be
attributed to their followers, will go but little way as such proof (see
“Supernatural Religion,” vol. ii, pp. 41 to 63).

It is pleasant to find a grain of wheat in the bushel of Tischendorf
chaff. On page 98, and following pages, the erudite author applies
himself to get rid of the testimony of Papias, which was falsified and
put forward by Paley as of great importance. Paley says the authority of
Papias is complete; Tischendorf declares that Papias is in error. Paley
says Papias was a hearer of John, Tischendorf says he was not. We leave
the champions of the two great Christian evidence-mongers to settle the
matter as best they can. If, however, we are to accept Dr. Tischendorfs
declaration that the testimony of Papias is worthless, we get rid of the
chief link between Justin Martyr and the apostolic age. It pleases Dr.
Tischendorf to damage Papias, because that father is silent as to the
gospel of John; but the Religious Tract Society must not forget that
in thus clearing away the second-hand evidence of Papias, they have
cut away their only pretence for saying that any of the Gospels are
mentioned by name within 150 years of the date claimed for the birth of
Jesus. In referring to the lost work of Theophilus of Antioch, which Dr.
Tischendorf tells us was a kind of harmony of the Gospels, in which
the four narratives are moulded and fused into one, the learned Doctor
forgets to tell us that Jerome, whom he quotes as giving some account of

Theophilus, actually doubted whether the so-called commentary was really
from the pen of that writer. Lardner says: “Whether those commentaries
which St. Jerome quotes were really composed by Theophilus may be
doubted, since they were unknown to Eusebius, and were observed by
Jerome to differ in style and expression from his other works. However,
if they were not his, they were the work of some anonymous ancient.”
But if they were the work of an anonymous ancient after Eusebius, what
becomes of Dr. Tischendorf s “as early as A.D. 170?”

Eusebius, who refers to Theophilus, and who speaks of his using the
Apocalypse, would have certainly gladly quoted the Bishop of Antioch’s
“Commentary on the Four Gospels,” if it had existed in his day. Nor
is it true that the references we have in Jerome to the work attributed
to Theophilus, justify the description given by Dr. Tischendorf, or even
the phrase of Jerome, “*qui quatuor Evangelistarum in unum opus dicta
compingens.*” Theophilus seems, so far as it is possible to judge,
to have occupied himself not with a connected history of Jesus, or a
continuous discourse as to his doctrines, but rather with mystical and
allegorical elucidations of occasional passages, which ended, like many
pious commentaries on the Old or New Testament, in leaving the point
dealt with a little less clear with the Theophillian commentary than
without it. Dr. Tischendorf says that Theo-doret and Eusebius speak
of Tatian in the same way—that is, as though he had, like his Syrian
contemporary, composed a harmony of the four Gospels. This is also
inaccurate. Eusebius talks of Tatianus “having found a certain body
and collection of Gospels, I know not how,” which collection Eusebius
does not appear even to have ever seen; and so far from the phrase in
Theodoret justifying Dr. Tischendorfs explanation, it would appear from
Theodoret that Tatian’s Diatessaron was, in fact, a sort of spurious
gospel, “The Gospel of the Four” differing materially from our four
Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Neither Irenæus, Clement
of Alexandria, or Jerome, who refer to other works of Tatian, make any
mention of this. Dr. Tischendorf might have added that Diapente, or
“the Gospel of the Five,” has also been a title applied to this work
of Tatian.

In the third chapter of his essay, Dr. Tischendorf refers to apocryphal
writings “which bear on their front the names of Apostles” “used
by obscure writers to palm off” their forgeries. Dr. Tischendorf
says that these spurious books were composed “partly to embellish”
scripture narratives, and “partly to support false doctrine;” and
he states that in early times, the Church was not so well able to
distinguish true gospels from false ones, and that consequently some of
the apocryphal writings “were given a place they did not deserve.”
This statement of the inability of the Church to judge correctly, tells
as much against the whole, as against any one or more of the early
Christian writings, and as it may be as fatal to the now received
gospels as to those now rejected, it deserves the most careful
consideration. According to Dr. Tischendorf, Justin Martyr falls into
the category of those of the Church who were “not so critical in
distinguishing the true from the false;” for Justin, says Tischendorf,
treats the Gospel of St. James and the Acts of Pilate, each as a fit
source whence to derive materials for the life of Jesus, and therefore
must have regarded the Gospel of St. James and the Acts of Pilate, as
genuine and authentic writings; while Dr. Tischendorf, wiser, and
a greater critic than Justin, condemns the Gospel of St. James as
spurious, and calls the Acts of Pilate “a pious fraud;” but if Dr.
Tischendorf be correct in his statement that “Justin made use of this
Gospel” and quotes the “Acts of Pontius Pilate,” then, according
to his own words, Justin did not know how to distinguish the true from
the false, and the whole force of his evidence previously used by
Dr. Tischendorf in aid of the four Gospels would have been seriously
diminished, even if it had been true, which it is not, that Justin
Martyr had borne any testimony on the subject.

Such, then, are the weapons, say the Religious Tract Society, by their
champion, “which we employ against unbelieving criticism.” And what
are these weapons? We have shown in the preceding pages, the *suppressio
veri* and the *suggestio falsi* are amongst the weapons used. The
Religious Tract Society directors are parties to fabrication of
evidence, and they permit a learned charlatan to forward the cause of
Christ with craft and chicane. But even this is not enough; they need,
according to their pamphlet, “a new weapon;” they want “to find
out the very words the Apostles used.” True believers have been in
a state of delusion; they were credulous enough to fancy that the
authorised version of the Scriptures tolerably faithfully represented
God’s revelation to humankind. But no, says Dr. Tischendorf, it has
been so seriously modified in the copying and re-copying that it ought
to be set aside altogether, and a fresh text constructed. Glorious news
this for the Bible Society. Listen to it, Exeter Hall! Glad tidings
to be issued by the Paternoster Row saints! After spending hundreds of
thousands of pounds in giving away Bibles to soldiers, in placing them
in hotels and lodging-houses, and shipping them off to negroes and
savages, it appears that the wrong text has been sent through the world,
the true version being all the time in a waste-paper heap at
Mount Sinai, watched over by an “invisible eye.” But, adds Dr.
Tischendorf, “if you ask me whether any popular version contains the
original text, my answer is Yes and No. I say Yes as far as concerns
your soul’s salvation.” If these are enough for the soul’s
salvation, why try to improve the matter? If we really need the “full
and clear light” of the Sinaitic Bible to show us “what is the Word
written by God,” then most certainly our present Bible is not believed
by the Religious Tract Society to be the Word written by God. The
Christian advocates are in this dilemma: either the received text
is insufficient, or the proposed improvement is unnecessary. Dr.
Tischendorf says that “The Gospels, like the only begotten of the
Father, will endure as long as human nature itself,” yet he says
“there is a great diversity among the texts,” and that the Gospel in
use amongst the Ebionites and that used amongst the Nazarenes have
been “disfigured here and there with certain arbitrary changes.”
He admits, moreover, that “in early times, when the Church was not so
critical in distinguishing the true from the false,” spurious Gospels
obtained a credit which they did not deserve. And while arguing for
the enduring character of the Gospel, he requests you to set aside the
received text altogether, and to try to construct a new revelation by
the aid of Dr. Tischendorf s patent Sinaitic invention.

We congratulate the Religious Tract Society upon their manifesto, and
on the victory it secures them over German Rationalism and English
Infidelity. The Society's translator, in his introductory remarks,
declares that “circumstantial evidence when complete, and when every
link in the chain has been thoroughly tested, is as strong as direct
testimony;” and, adds the Society’s penman, “This is the kind
of evidence which Dr. Tischendorf brings for the genuineness of
our Gospels.” It would be difficult to imagine a more inaccurate
description of Dr. Tischendorf s work. Do we find the circumstantial
evidence carefully tested in the Doctor’s boasting and curious
narrative of his journeys commenced on a pecuniary deficiency and
culminating in much cash? Do we find it in Dr. Tischendorf s concealment
for fifteen years of the place, watched over by an invisible eye, in
which was hidden the greatest biblical treasure in the world? Is the
circumstantial evidence shown in the sneers at Renan? or is each link
in the chain tested by the strange jumbling together of names and
conjectures in the first chapter? What tests are used in the cases
of Valentinus and Basilides in the second chapter? How is the
circumstantial testimony aided by the references in the third chapter to
the Apocryphal Gospels? Is there a pretence even of critical testing in
the chapter devoted to the apostolic fathers? All that Dr. Tisch-endorf
has done is in effect to declare that our authorised version of the New
Testament is so unreliable, that it ought to be got rid of altogether,
and a new text constructed. And this declaration is circulated by the
Religious Tract Society, which sends the sixpenny edition of the Gospel
with one hand, and in the other the shilling Tischendorf pamphlet,
declaring that many passages of the Religious Tract Society's New
Testament have undergone such serious modifications of meaning as to
leave us in painful uncertainty as to what was originally written.

The very latest contribution from orthodox sources to the study of the
Gospels, as contained in the authorised version, is to be found in the
very candid preface to the recently-issued revised version of the New
Testament, where the ordinary Bible receives a condemnation of the most
sweeping description. Here, on the high authority of the revisers, we
are told that, with regard to the Greek text, the translators of the
authorised version had for their guides “manuscripts of late date, few
in number and used with little critical skill.” The revisers add what
Freethinkers have long maintained, and have been denounced from pulpits
for maintaining, viz., “that the commonly received text needed
thorough revision,” and, what is even more important, they candidly
avow that “it is but recently that materials have been acquired for
executing such a work with even approximate completeness.” So that
not only “God’s Word” has admittedly for generations not been
“God’s Word” at all, but even now, and with materials not formerly
known, it has only been revised with “approximate completeness,”
whatever those two words may mean. If they have any significance at all,
they must convey the belief of the new and at present final revisers
of the Gospel, that, even after all their toil, they are not quite sure
that god’s revelation is quite exactly rendered into English. So far
as the ordinary authorised version of the New Testament goes—and it
is this, the law-recognised version which is still used in administering
oaths—we are told that the old translators “used considerable
freedom,” and “studiously adopted a variety of expressions which
would now be deemed hardly consistent with the requirements of faithful
translation.” This is a pleasant euphemism, but a real and direct
charge of dishonest translation by the authorised translators. The new
revisers add, with sadness, that “it cannot be doubted that they (the
translators of the authorised version) carried this liberty too far, and
that the studied avoidance of uniformity in the rendering of the same
words, even when occurring in the same context, is one of the blemishes
of their work.” These blemishes the new revisers think were increased
by the fact that the translation of the authorised version of the
New Testament was assigned to two separate companies, who never
sat together, which “was beyond doubt the cause of many
inconsistencies,” and, although there was a final supervision, the
new revisers add, most mournfully: “When it is remembered that
the supervision was completed in nine months, we may wonder that the
incongruities which remain are not more numerous.”

Nor are the revisers by any means free from doubt and misgiving on their
own work. They had the “laborious task” of “deciding between
the rival claims of various readings which might properly affect the
translation,” and, as they tell us, “Textual criticism, as applied
to the Greek New Testament, forms a special study of much intricacy and
difficulty, and even now leaves room for considerable variety of
opinion among competent critics.” Next they say: “the frequent
inconsistencies in the authorised version have caused us much
embarrassment,” and that there are “numerous passages in the
authorised version in which... the studied variety adopted by the
Translators of 1611 has produced a degree of inconsistency that cannot
be reconciled with the principle of faithfulness.” So little are
the new revisers always certain as to what god means that they provide
“alternative readings in difficult or debateable passages,” and say
“the notes of this last group are numerous and largely in excess of
those which were admitted by our predecessors.” And with reference
to the pronouns and other words in italics we are told that “some
of these cases... are of singular intricacy, and make it impossible to
maintain rigid uniformity.” The new revisers conclude by declaring
that “through our manifold experience of its abounding difficulties we
have felt more and more as we went onward that such a work can never be
accomplished by organised efforts of scholarship and criticism unless
assisted by divine help.” Apparently the new revisers are conscious
that they did not receive this divine help in their attempt at revision,
for they go on: “We know full well that defects must have their place
in a work so long and so arduous as this which has now come to an end.
Blemishes and imperfections there are in the noble translation which
we have been called upon to revise; blemishes and imperfections will
assuredly be found in our own revision... we cannot forget how often
we have failed in expressing some finer shade of meaning which we
recognised in the original, how often idiom has stood in the way of a
perfect rendering, and how often the attempt to preserve a familiar form
of words, or even a familiar cadence, has only added another perplexity
to those which have already beset us.”


.. clearpage::

MR. GLADSTONE IN REPLY TO COLONEL INGERSOLL ON CHRISTIANITY
===========================================================

.. dropcap:: I IN


IN the early days of the *National Reformer* there was some reason to
believe that, despite his enormous work and his utterly differing
views, Mr. Gladstone was not unfrequently a reader of some of the
papers appearing in its columns. Later there was on one occasion a
very remarkable piece of evidence that, whilst considering as
“questionable” the literature issued from the publishing office
of the late Mr. Austin Holyoake, the veteran statesman did not pass
it without notice. I do not know if Mr. Gladstone has, during the last
dozen years or so, had time or inclination for similar acquaintance
with the utterances of advanced Freethought in this country—though
his critique on a recent novel gives affirmative probability—but it is
clear that he watches heretical utterances across the Atlantic; for in
the *North American Review* for May, Mr. Gladstone—intervening in
a correspondence going on between the Rev. Dr. Field and Colonel R.G.
Ingersoll—takes up his pen against the eloquent American. I have
hesitated very much as to publicly noticing the North American Review
article, for my personal reverence for Mr. Gladstone is very great. I
know how very far from one another we are on questions of religion, and
believing that the religious side or bent of Mr. Gladstone’s mind is
stronger than any other feeling influencing him, I can conceive that I
may offend much in any criticism, however respectfully worded. Yet I am
sure that Mr. Gladstone’s high position entitles all he says to most
attentive audience, and my duty to those in the Freethought ranks
who trust me compels me that I should tender some words of comment. I
venture to hope that the view of duty Mr Gladstone has felt incumbent
on him may prevail on my side to prevent any appearance of impertinent
interference.

It is not proposed to deal here with the points in controversy between
Dr. Field and Colonel Ingersoll, or with the ease as between Mr.
Gladstone and the Colonel. All that will be ventured on is a brief
comment, from my own standpoint, on some of the positions adopted by Mr.
Gladstone, writing as a Christian believer.

Early in the article, stating his own position, Mr. Gladstone says:
“Belief in divine guidance is not of necessity belief that such
guidance can never be frustrated by the laxity, the infirmity, the
perversity of man alike in the domain of action and the domain of
thought.” The whole effect of this sentence is governed by the meaning
attached by the writer to the words “divine guidance.” If the
meaning intended to be conveyed by the word “divine” includes
the assumption of omnipotent omniscience for the person or influence
described as divine, and if “guidance” means the intentional
direction of the human by the divine to a given end, then it is not easy
to understand how this can be intelligently believed, and yet that the
same believer shall at the same time believe that laxity or infirmity on
the part of the individual guided may “frustrate” the guidance, that
is, may counteract it, nullify it, or overcome it. That mental infirmity
in the individual may be irremediable by Deity is a proposition which
challenges the assumed omniscient omnipotence. That fallible
human perversity may be more powerful than omnipotent intent is a
contradiction in terms. If the affirmer of divine influence regarded the
“divine” person as creator, and the individuals guided as created
results, then the infirmity, i.e., insufficient capacity of the created,
must have been intentional on the part of an omniscient, and the
“guidance” would be illusory, in that the “divine” must, even
prior to creation, have planned and predesigned the frustration of his
own guiding effort by means of this infirmity. Perversity on the part of
the created individual, whether originated purposely by the creator or
developed in spite of the omnipotent guider, such perversity, sufficient
in activity to frustrate the active intent of omnipotence, involves
wholesale contradiction on the part of, or utter confusion in the mind
of, the believer. According to Mr. Gladstone, the “divine” may guide
the individual to think x, intending the individual to think x, but
knowing that the individual cannot (from infirmity) think x, or will
not (from perversity) think x, and therefore the divine purpose is
frustrated: the “divine,” i.e., the omnipotent being, is not
only unable or unwilling to cure the infirmity, or to overcome the
perversity, but is actually the cause of the fatal infirmity or
perversity. That Mr. Gladstone honestly believes this is manifest, but
I venture to deny that such honest belief can be accepted as the
equivalent for accurate thought. It may be the equivalent for a state of
mind, which, existing amongst millions of human beings in diverse races,
is yet consistent with the wide prevalence of ir-reconcileable faiths,
and with faiths irreconcileable with fact. Alike in thought and action,
Mr. Gladstone believes the divine guidance may be frustrated by human
perversity, and thus possibly explains to himself why it is that the
Christian Governments of Europe have, in this close of the nineteenth
century, literally millions of men constantly ready for the work of
killing those who belong to the common family of “Our Father which art
in heaven.”

Taking up the words of the questioning challenge by Colonel Ingersoll to
Dr. Field “What think you of Jephthah?” Mr. Gladstone writes: “I
am aware of no reason why any believer in Christianity should not be
free to canvass, regret, or condemn the act of Jephthah. So far as the
narration which details it is concerned, there is not a word of sanction
given to it more than to the falsehood of Abraham in Egypt, or of Jacob
and Rebecca in the matter of the hunting (Gen. xx, 1-8, and Gen. xxiii
[this is a misprint for xxvii]); or to the dissembling of St. Peter in
the case of the Judaising converts (Gal. ii, 11); I am aware of no color
of approval given to it elsewhere. But possibly the author of the reply
may have thought that he found such an approval in the famous eleventh
chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, where the apostle, handling
his subject with a discernment and care very different to those of the
reply, writes thus (Heb. xi, 32): ‘And what shall I say more? for the
time would fail me to tell of Gideon, of Barak, and of Samson, and of
Jephthah: of David also, and Samuel, and of the prophets.’ Jephthah,
then, is distinctly held up to us by a canonical writer as an object of
praise. But of praise on what account? Why should the reply assume that
it is on account of the sacrifice of his child?”

I submit that to condemn the voluntary human sacrifice by Jephthah to
Jehovah, it is necessary to condemn the Bible presentment. A believer in
Christianity who condemned the act of Jephthah would in this necessarily
condemn also the devotion to the Lord of a human being and the carrying
out the vow by actual human sacrifice. But Leviticus xxvii, 28 and
29, authorises such a vow, and enacts the result in precise language.
Kalisch, writing on this (“Leviticus,” Part I, p. 385), says: “The
fact stands indisputable that human sacrifices offered to Jehovah were
possible among the Hebrews long after the time of Moses, without meeting
check or censure from the teachers or leaders of the nation.”

Mr. Gladstone correctly enough maintains that the Bible gives no more
sanction to the conduct of Jephthah “than to the falsehood of Abraham
in Egypt.” I quite admit that this is accurately stated, but God
frequently described himself as the “God of Abraham;” Abraham is
pictured as being in heaven; special promises were made to Abraham; and
if these were not as sanctioning his conduct, they nevertheless were
marks of approbation without blame of that conduct. In ordinary cases
where reward is given it is not unnaturally associated with the narrated
conduct of the person rewarded. Abraham and Jephthah stand on much the
same footing on the question of readiness to offer human sacrifice,
except that in Jephthah’s case the initiative is with him. In the case
of Abraham, the initiative is from the Lord.

Mr. Gladstone, again, accurately says that there is no more sanction
given to the act of Jephthah than is given to the trick and deliberate
falsehood by which Jacob cheated blind Isaac out of the blessing
intended for Esau. That is so; but, according to the Genesis narrative,
God practically endorsed the fraud when he not only declared himself the
God of Jacob, but by his prophet declared that he loved Jacob and hated
Esau (Romans ix, 13). When the cheater is loved and the cheated hated,
it is scarcely straining the text to associate sanction of the act with
the love expressed for the the conduct of the person rewarded.

The narration as to Jephthah is of a distinct bargain between Jephthah
and the Lord, and a bargain made under spiritual influence, or, to use
Mr. Gladstone’s words, under divine guidance. The text is explicit
(Judges xi, 29, 30, 31):

“Then the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah, and he passed over
Gilead, and Manasseh, and passed over Mizpeh of Gilead, and from Mizpeh
of Gilead he passed over unto the chil-dren of Ammon. And Jephthah vowed
a vow unto the Lord, and said, If thou shalt without fail deliver the
children of Ammon into mine hands, Then it shall be, that whatsoever
cometh forth of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return in peace
from the children of Ammon, shall surely be the Lord’s, and I will
offer it up for a burnt offering.”

After this vow the Lord does deliver the children of Ammon into
Jephthah’s hands, and Jephthah—who says: “I have opened my mouth
unto the Lord, and I cannot go back”—in return keeps his part of
the agreement, “and did with her according to his vow.” And yet
Mr. Gladstone writes that there is no reason so far as he is aware, to
prevent a Christian from condemning this act of Jephthah. No reason,
except that the condemnation must include the condemning of the practice
of such vows generally, though specially enacted (Leviticus xxvii, 28,
29):

“Notwithstanding no devoted thing, that a man shall devote unto the
Lord of all that he hath, both of man and beast, and of the field of his
possession, shall be sold or redeemed: every devoted thing is most holy
unto the Lord. None devoted which shall be devoted of men, shall be
redeemed but shall surely be put to death”—

and must also involve the express condemnation of the particular bargain
assented to and completed alike by Jephthah and by “the Lord.”

With the challenge as to Jephthah, Col. Ingersoll asked Dr. Field
“What of Abraham?” and this, too, is taken up by Mr. Gladstone who
says of Abraham: “He is not commended because, being a father, he made
all the preparations antecedent to plunging the knife into his son. He
is commended (as I read the text) because, having received a glorious
promise, a promise that his wife should be the mother of nations, and
that kings should be born of her (Genesis xvii, 6), and that by his
seed the blessings of redemption should be conveyed to man, and the
fulfilment of the promise being dependent solely upon the life of Isaac,
he was nevertheless willing that the chain of these promises should be
broken by the extinction of that life, because his faith assured
him that the Almighty would find the way to give effect to his own
designs” (Heb. xi, 16-19). But the text is surely clear on this.
Abraham is praised because he offered up Isaac, that is, that he was
ready and willing to offer a human sacrifice to “the Lord” similar
to that which was actually offered by Jephthah. Jephthah's sacrifice was
voluntary; Abraham’s uncompleted sacrifice was undertaken in obedience
to the pressure of temptation by God.

Mr. Gladstone observes that “the facts... are grave and startling,”
and he might well write thus if he had before him any record of the case
of a man tried in the United States for the murder of his son. The
man imagined and believed, as Abraham is stated to have imagined and
believed, that he heard God command him to kill his son as a sacrifice;
the man obeyed what he believed to be the divine command. While Abraham
only “took the knife to slay his son,” the American actually killed
his child. On the trial the jury found that the man was insane; that the
imagined divine command was delusion; that what the man claimed to be
an act of faith in God was an act of human insanity. Mr. Gladstone says
that Abraham’s faith “may have been qualified by a reserve of hope
that God would interpose before the final act,” that is, that the
interposition would come before he, like Jephthah, actually killed his
child as a human sacrifice to the Deity who tempted him. The Bible text
gives no support to Mr. Gladstone’s qualifying theory. Genesis xxii,
1, 2, says:

“God did tempt Abraham.... And he said, Take now thy son, thine only
son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and
offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I
will tell thee of.”

Without hesitation, Abraham, according to the narrative, takes his son
to the place, binds him to the wood, and deliberately prepares to
carry out the sacrifice. Abraham either deceives the men (verse 5) and
misleads his son (verses 7 and 8), or Abraham did not believe in the
consummation of the sacrifice, and in the latter case the faith for
which he is praised would be no more than hypocritic pretence. Nay, the
text expressly represents God as affirming that Abraham was ready to
carry out the sacrifice of his son (verse 16):

“By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou hast done
this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son.”

If Abraham only offered to kill his son as a sacrifice with the mental
qualification that the offer would not be accepted, and that the
sacrifice would not be exacted, then the Lord must have been misled into
the swearing recited in the text.

Evidently Mr. Gladstone, himself a humane man and loving father, is not
quite at ease in dealing with this part of Abraham’s history. He says
(1) “that the narrative does not supply us with a complete statement
of particulars;” (2) that “the command was addressed to Abraham
under conditions essentially different from those which now determine
for us the limits of moral obligations;” (3) “that the estimate of
human life at the time was different;” (4)

that “the position of the father in the family was different: its
members were regarded as in some sense his property.” I rejoin (1)
that to read into the text vital words of explanation which are not
specifically expressed in the “divine revelation”—and to so read
because without these words the text is incredible—is perilously near
downright infidelity. And that, given the incompleteness of Genesis, the
added explanation must vary with the intellect, training, and temper of
the expositor, e.g. Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Spurgeon, or the man who killed
his child in America, would fill up each imagined hiatus in very diverse
fashions. (2) Mr. Gladstone’s argument can only be maintainable on
the assumption that the limits of moral obligation were in the time of
Abraham differently determined—for or by, “the Lord”—from such
limits today, that is, that the “divine guide” is not immutable. (3)
That to render this argument permissible on the part of a believer in
Christianity it must be assumed that “the Lord” then estimated the
value of human life differently from the manner in which he now would
estimate it, because—unless “the Lord” was simply deceiving
Abraham in the original direction and the subsequent swearing—“the
Lord” concurred in and approved the proposed sacrifice
by Abraham; as he also afterwards concurred in and approved the actual
sacrifice by Jephthah. (4) [nvolves the assumption that the morality
of family relation is now admittedly higher under modern civilisation
than when specially regulated by “divine guidance.”


3 “Capital and Wages,” p. 19.


4 “Perversion of Scotland,” p. 197.


Mr. Gladstone grants that “there is every reason to suppose that
around Abraham in ‘the land Moriah,’ the practice of human sacrifice
as an act of religion was in full vigor,” and he does not fall
into the error of ordinary Biblical apologists in pretending that the
practice of human sacrifice was confined to “false “religions.

Mr. Gladstone fairly states that the command received by Abraham to
offer his son Isaac as a human sacrifice was not only “obviously
inconsistent with the promises which had preceded,” but “was also
inconsistent with the morality acknowledged in later times.” I submit
that this statement is really a condemnation by Mr. Gladstone of
the divine command, in that it is a declaration that such a command
would—in times later than Abraham, in fact, in our own times—be
an immoral command. Here there ought not to be any question raised of
changed conditions, for the command is from “the Lord,” that is,
from the assumed immutable, omniscient Omnipotent. Mr. Gladstone, it
is true, contends that “though the law of moral action is the same
everywhere and always, it is variously applicable to the human being, as
we know from experience; and its first form is that of simple obedience
to a superior whom there is every ground to trust.” As in the article
Mr. Gladstone has given no definition of what he means by morality, I
have no right to go beyond his statement. Following Bentham and Mill, I
should personally maintain the utilitarian definition of morality,
i.e., “that that action is moral which is for the greatest good of the
greatest number with the least injury to any.” But this would not in
any fashion fit in with Mr. Gladstone’s contention, which in the case
of a Russian, would make the act moral which is of simple obedience to
the Czar, even though that act happened to be the knouting of a delicate
woman; or in the case of a Roman Catholic would declare the act to be
moral which was performed in simple obedience to the Pope, even though
it were the applying the fire to the faggots piled round Giordano Bruno;
or in the case of an English sailor would make the act moral done in
obedience to the commander of his ship, even though it should be the
placing a destructive torpedo in contact with a crowded vessel of an
enemy; or in the case of an Irish constable, though the act should
be the shooting, on the command of his superior, from the window of
a Mitchelstown barrack, even though the result was the murder of an
unoffending old man.


.. clearpage::

A FEW WORDS ON THE CHRISTIANS’ CREED
====================================

TO THE REV. J.G. PACKER, A.M, INCUMBERER OF ST. PETER’S, HACKNEY ROAD

SIR,—Had the misfortunes which I owe to your officious interference
been less than they are, and personal feeling left any place in my mind
for deliberation or for inquiry in selecting a proper person to whom to
dedicate these few remarks, I should have found myself directed, by
many considerations, to the person of the Incumberer of St. Peter’s,
Hackney Road. A life spent in division from part of your flock, and in
crushing those whom you could not answer, may well entitle you to the
respect of all true bigots. Hoping that you will be honoured as you
deserve,

I am, Reverend Sir,

Yours truly,

C. BRADLAUGH


.. dropcap:: T THE


THE Creed of the Christian is what I proceed to consider, and I shall
take for consideration the one which we have given us in the Communion
Service of the Church of England. It begins thus: “I believe in one
God, the Father, Almighty.” Here is a declaration of belief in the
unity of God. How far this declaration is carried out in the latter
parts of the creed, is a matter for further investigation; but we will
now take the next sentence: “Maker of heaven and earth, and of all
things visible and invisible.” Here, in the two sentences, we have the
declaration of belief in a power that has created the universe. Now, the
very term “belief” implies that the thing is not known; for when we
have attained knowledge, we are beyond mere belief. As the believers
are in doubt about the existence of a creator, I will endeavor to
investigate the probability of there being such an existence. If you put
any inquiries to a Christian as to the creation, he will tell you that
God made matter out of nothing. If you ask him who or what God is, he
will tell you that God is quite incomprehensible. Failing to get any
other information on this point, you ask him, but how could something
be produced from nothing? to which, if he is a pious man, he will reply,
that, too, is incomprehensible; and also add, that it is one of those
mysteries of religion that we must not attempt to reason upon. Having
satisfied ourselves that the Christian can give us no information,
beyond that which is contained in a book which he calls a revelation
from God, we look to this book to ascertain, if we can, something
further relating to this incomprehensibility. We, however, now find
ourselves in a worse position than we were before, for we are told in
one text that God is all-powerful; in another text (Judges i, 19) we are
told that he is not. In one text we are told that God is unchangeable;
and in another we are told that God grieves and repeats (Gen. vi, 6).
In another that he gets in a passion, and marches through the land in
indignation, and thrashes the heathen in his anger (Habakkuk iii, 12).
I might fill a volume with these beautiful specimens of the character of
the God of the Christian. However, as the Bible quite supports God’s
character for incomprehensibility, I think we need not doubt that thus
far the Christian is right. But, as this is not the sort of evidence
that a reasonable man will be satisfied with, and as the burden of proof
lies upon the man who declares or makes the assertion, I think all
must come to the conclusion that the assertion, not being supported by
evidence, must, as a matter of necessity, fall to the ground.

The next passage runs thus: “And in our Lord Jesus Christ, the only
begotten Son of God: begotten of his Father before all the worlds.”
Here is the declaration of a belief (which, however little it will bear
examination, we will take for the present) in a being whom we should
take from the word Son to be a personage inferior to God the Father,
especially as in John (xiv, 28), Jesus is represented saying “the
Father is greater than I;” but such is not the case, for the next
words, “God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God,” show that
the Christian makes Jesus not only to be equal, but to be superior to
God the Father, for he tells us that Jesus is God of Gods, and very God
of very God. Now if God the Father is incomprehensible, I can assure you
that the God and very God of God the Father appears to me to be doubly
so. The belief then proceeds, “begotten, not made, being of one
substance with the Father, by whom all things were made.” This is a
most important declaration, for it clearly proves that the Christian
believes in a material and substantial God, or rather material and
substantial Gods, for he tells us that God the Father and God the Son
are both of the same substance. This belief in a material deity upsets
the prior declaration of the creation or production of matter from
nothing, for if the Gods or God of the Christians are or is eternal, and
as they, or he, are or is clearly material, so matter must be eternal,
and could never have been created. The belief next proceeds, “Who for
us men and for our salvation came own from heaven.” This coming down
and ascending up to heaven clearly proves that the Christian considers
that the earth is a kind of flat surface with heaven above, and that God
lives up in heaven, and that he sometimes has come down to see us and
gone up again after the visit. But we are told that he came for our
salvation. Now to be a salvation there must be a fall. Of course there
must, cries the exulting Christian; look to Genesis and see the account
of the fall of Adam. We do look to Genesis, and we find that somebody
called Yeue Alehim (whom our translators make Lord God, but for what
reason I am at a loss), has placed Adam and Eve in a garden with a
command not to eat certain fruit, and that this Lord God, to make his
command stronger, backs it with a lie, for he tells Adam and Eve that
in the day that they eat of it they shall surely die, which the sequel
proves not to be true, as they did not die, but one of them lived 930
years after he had broken the command. While Adam and Eve are in this
garden a cunning serpent, whom the Lord God also has made, tempts Eve,
and they eat of the fruit of the tree, and their eyes are opened, and
they gain a knowledge of good and evil. Now the Lord God seems to be
very much like the bigoted parsons of the present day, for when he finds
out what Adam and Eve have done he gets in a passion and swears at them,
and curses Adam and his wife and the serpent; and not satisfied with
this, he curses the land too, just as if the land had had some share in
the crime.

This is a summary of the account of the Fall contained in the Bible.
Because Adam and Eve had been guilty of the horrible crime of eating of
the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, that is
they learnt to think and reason for themselves, God Almighty found it
necessary to damn them; and depend upon it, reader, whoever you may be,
that when you are guilty of the crime of thinking, speaking, and acting
for yourself in religious matters, God's vicegerents on earth, the
black-coated, white-neckerchiefed, strait-haired, pious psalm-singing
gentry, will do their best to crush you and damn you by every means in
their power. They will calumniate you as they have done Thomas Paine and
the rest of those brave men who have been courageous enough to strive
for civil and religious liberty.

But I fear I am guilty of digression, and therefore I will take you back
to the account of the Fall. Adam having been cursed, our pastors pretend
that it was necessary that there should be a redemption—for they
have such a good opinion of their God, that although they tell us that
without God's help we could not live and move, they think God would damn
the whole earth because one man [ate] an apple which, according to
their own account, he could not have done if God had not permitted
him; therefore, to use the words of Richard Carlile, they give us the
horrible picture of “a merciful God sacrificing a good and pure God to
appease the vengeance of a jealous and revengeful God.”

I will now leave this to the consideration of the reader, and take the
next passage, which runs thus: “And was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of
the Virgin Mary, and was made man.” I can scarcely imagine that any
of the Christians ever give this belief a thought, as, parrot-like, they
repeat it after their leader in the pulpit, for if they did think they
must be aware that they are uttering the most ridiculous and absurd
statements respecting their deity. The doctrine of the incarnation,
however, is common to the Hindoos; and as their religion is much older
than Christianity, I suppose they will admit that the Hindoos did
not derive their doctrine from the Christian, and also that it seems
extremely probable that the Christians derived their doctrine of the
incarnation from the Hindoos. This would go very far towards identifying
Christianity with Paganism; and therefore the devout Christian will
shudder at the thought, and again tell you that is a mystery that must
not be inquired into. But the absurdities contained in the idea of an
omnipotent and infinite God becoming a weak and finite man, must, I
think, be apparent to all.

The creed then reads: “And was crucified, also, for us, under Pontius
Pilate. He suffered, and was buried.” The idea of a Very God of Very
God *suffering* and being buried! “And the third day he rose again
according to the scriptures.” Now, unless there were other scriptures
besides those which we possess, Jesus did not rise according to the
scriptures; for the scriptures say, that as Jonah was three days and
three nights in the belly of the whale, so shall the Son of Man be three
days and three nights in the heart of the earth. But Jesus was not three
days and three nights in the heart of the earth, for he was crucified
in the course of Friday, and was out of the grave before dawn on
Sunday—being only one clear day and two nights. So much for being
according to the scriptures.

It then proceeds: “And ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right
hand of the Father.” We have been told that there is only one step
from the sublime to the ridiculous, and I think that this fully proves
the truth of the observation, for one moment we are told of an infinite
God, and the next of two infinite Gods, sitting beside each other in a
finite place called heaven. But this is not the whole of the absurdity;
for the idea of ascension into heaven proves what I have before noticed
with regard to the absurd ideas of heaven and earth contained in this
creed.

The creed proceeds: “And he shall come again with glory to judge
both the quick and the dead: whose kingdom shall have no end.” This
involves the belief of the existence in a future state, and, as it
is impossible to prove a negative to the question, I shall put the
following interrogatories for the believer’s consideration. In what
state do you expect man to exist with a knowledge of his identity after
death? He cannot exist in a material state, for the matter of which he
was composed has been dispersed, and now forms other bodies, and thus
the organisation is totally destroyed. You cannot tell me that the
atoms of which that man was composed will reunite, because that would
presuppose the existence of a power possessing the capability of the
creation of matter in the same state with the same knowledge of personal
identity; besides which, the matter of which Alexander the Great was
composed may now be in your body, and thus either you or poor Alexander
would have to go on short commons at the day of judgment. And with
regard to anything that may be said as to our existence in an immaterial
state, I only ask the believer to produce some proof of it, for as yet
we have no proof, and therefore have nothing to answer.

The creed proceeds: “And I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Lord and
Giver of Life: who proceedeth from the Father and Son.” On this
declaration I have not much to say, except to point out the absurdity of
it; for a dissertation on the term Holy Ghost would be too long for my
pages. If God the Father and God the Son are living beings, then God the
Holy Ghost is not the Lord and Giver of Life; for he proceeds from them,
and they were before him. But if God the Holy Ghost is the Lord and
Giver of Life, then, till he came into existence, God Almighty and his
Son must have been without life. More than this, Jesus is said to be
the son of the Virgin Mary by the Holy Ghost; now, if the Holy Ghost
proceeds from Jesus first, it seems rather strange that Jesus should
have proceeded from the Holy Ghost afterwards. The “Ecce Homo”
suggests that the *aggelos*, or messenger who represented the Holy
Ghost, might have been a *young man*.

But to return to our subject. It then proceeds: “Who, with the Father
and the Son together, is worshipped and glorified: who spake by the
prophets.” Now it happens that there are a number of Lords who spake
by the prophets—such as *Yeue or Yehovah, Alehim, El Sheddi*, and
others—but not one Holy Ghost: so that the Bible gives the lie to the
belief, unless the Holy Ghost was the lying spirit in the case of Ahab,
and I am afraid that that would not tell much to the credit of the Holy
(or unholy) Ghost.

“And I believe in one catholic and apostolic church.” Setting aside
the word apostolic, this is the only good part in the belief; for depend
upon it readers, that till there is an universality of mind and
action throughout the world in one direction, we never shall have true
happiness. Therefore I praise the belief in a catholic or universal
church or community; but the objectionable word apostolic pulls me down
from the Utopia to which I had begun to soar, for that word spoils
all. With the word apostle are strangely mingled together some ideas of
Peter, the Pope, the Inquisition, thumbscrews, racks, stakes, and other
adjuncts to an apostolic church.

“I acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins.” Only think,
readers, the church set at loggerheads, and nearly £100,000 spent on
the last nine words. A bishop, with all the courage imaginable,
speaking what the *Times* tells him may cost him his mitre, and then
excommunicating the whole who disagree with him, the *Times* of course
included, on account of these words! I think after this we had better
read the passage again. What is baptism? Answer: Saying long prayers
over a baby in long clothes, till you wake it, and then sprinkling water
on it till you make it cry! What is remission of sins? Answer: Don't
know. Now I believe the grand question in dispute is whether the grace
comes before the baptism or at it, or after it, or whether it comes
at all; and to settle this question they have employed themselves in
worrying one another with threats, protests, and prohibitions, to the
benefit of the lawyers and us poor inquirers. I say our benefit, too,
for we are told that when rogues fall out honest men get their own. What
absurdity is contained in the idea that the baptising of a child with
water saved it from being damned for sins that it never committed! or,
how still more absurd is the idea that the child would be damned if it
were not baptised at all; yet this doctrine is taught and inculcated by
the Creed of the Church of England. The creed proceeds: “I look for
the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.”
Together with this resurrection are associated the ideas that we shall
be brought before the bar of God and give an account of our deeds, and
that the bad shall be sent to hell and the good to heaven. Now we are
told that hell is a lake of brimstone and fire; if that is the case, I
deny that there can be eternal punishment, for science proves that there
is not enough brimstone in any finite space to burn one man for ever,
let alone several millions: and with regard to heaven, if I am to go
there I hope it will not be near the planet Uranus, for I should feel
too cold; or near the sun, for then I should feel too hot, and should
not be very happy. However, take it at the worst, we freethinkers should
be better off than the believer, for bad as the believer makes his God,
he surely could never be unjust enough to send me to hell for speaking
what I believed to be the truth.

Taking the Creed as a whole, it is one of the most ridiculous
declarations of faith imaginable, for the believer declares a belief in
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. And how are these pictured in Scripture?
“The Father is somewhere in heaven, the Son sits at his right hand,
and the Holy Ghost flies about in a bodily shape like a dove.” What a
curious picture to present to any reasonable man—a Father begets a Son
from nothing, and a dove proceeds from the two of them. I shall say no
more on this disgusting part of Christianity—disgusting because so
many believe all that is told them by a man who possesses the same
powers of comprehension as themselves, and who has a position to
maintain in the world—I mean the priest. My blood runs cold to think
of the mischief that has been done by those men called priests; they are
the bane of society, for they rule the mass of society *vi et armis*
and they rule it wrongfully; they do not give it a chance of obtaining a
mouthful of intellectual food without steeping it in the poison of their
superstitious dogmas, and till we take the antidote of free discussion
we shall never be free. But alas for reform! there are strong bulwarks
of faith and prejudice to be attacked and pulled down before that
antidote can fully counteract the debasing effects of superstition on
the mind and action of man.

However, Christian, before concluding, I will give you a summary of your
most absurd Creed. You believe in God the Father who is eternal, and in
God the Son who is eternal too. You believe that the Holy Ghost is
the father of Jesus, and that Jesus is the son of God the Father. You
believe that the Holy Ghost is a *material spirit*, and that he has made
himself manifest in two forms, namely, a dove or pigeon, and a cloven
tongue of fire (the latter would be no bad emblem, were he the identical
lying spirit). You believe that a finite woman, who was a virgin, gave
birth to an infinite God, and yet that that God was a man. You believe
that Jesus went down into hell and stopped on his visit three days; but,
Christian, if it were true, do you think that the devil would have been
unwise enough to let his bitterest enemy out after he had got him
so nicely in his power? You believe that the Holy Ghost spoke by the
prophets. To do that he must have had foreknowledge, and we must have
been predestined to do certain acts; and yet you believe that we are
free, and shall be punished or rewarded according to our actions and
faith. You believe that God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost, are three
separate persons, and yet that they are one.

You who are Papists believe that there are three Gods in one and one in
three, and that yours is the true Church, and that the Pope is the
head of the church, and the representative of God on earth. You who are
Churchmen hold the same trinity, but make Victoria, by the grace of
God, queen defender of the faith, nominal Pope of your church, and
the Archbishops of Canterbury and York the actual popes. You who are
Wesleyan elect John Wesley to the papal dignity, and so on with the
rest.

I hope that all who profess the creed will look around and see the
present theological panic. The Wesleyans are divided by the “Fly
Sheets” into two parties, and are attacking one another most
vigorously. The Church of England is divided by Goreham, and the bishops
are excommunicating one another. And lastly, the Pope is at a discount
in the very seat of his empire, and Free-thought is slowly but steadily
increasing.

To those readers who approve of this, I beg leave to ask their
assistance in the work of progress by their acting as well as talking
among their fellow-men. To those who disapprove, I say, “Answer it.”


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