Prof. Swing has made a few remarks on this subject, and I say the
spirit he has exhibited has been as gentle and as sweet as the perfume
of a flower. He was too good a man to stay in the Presbyterian church.
He was a rose among thistles. He was a dove among vultures and they
hunted him out, and I am glad he came out. I tell all the churches to
drive all such men out, and when he comes I want him to state just what
he thinks. I want him to tell the people of Chicago whether he
believes the Bible is inspired in any sense except that in which
Shakespeare was inspired. Honor bright, I tell you that all the sweet
and beautiful things in the Bible would not make one play of
Shakespeare; all the philosophy in the world would not make one scene
in Hamlet; all the beauties of the Bible would not make one scene in
the Midsummer Night's Dream; all the beautiful things about woman in
the Bible would not begin to create such a character as Perditu or
Imogene or Miranda. Not one.
I want him to tell whether he believes the Bible was inspired in any
other way than Shakespeare was inspired. I want him to pick out
something as beautiful and tender as Burns' poem to Mary in Heaven. I
want him to tell whether he believes the story about the bears eating
up children; whether that is inspired. I want him to tell whether he
considers that a poem or not. I want to know if the same God made
those bears that devoured the children because they laughed at an old
man out of hair. I want to know if the same God that did that is the
same God who said, "Suffer little children to come unto me, for such is
the kingdom of Heaven." I want him to answer it, and answer it fairly.
That is all I ask. I want just the fair thing.
Now, sometimes Mr. Swing talks as though he believed the Bible, and
then he talks to me as though he didn't believe the Bible. The day he
made this sermon I think he did, just a little, believe it. He is like
the man that passed a ten dollar counterfeit bill. He was arrested and
his father went to see him and said, "John, how could you commit such a
crime? How could you bring my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave?"
"Well," he says, "father, I'll tell you. I got this bill and some days
I thought it was bad and some days I thought it was good, and one day
when I thought it was good I passed it."
I want it distinctly understood that I have the greatest respect for
Prof. Swing, but I want him to tell whether the 109th psalm is
inspired. I want him to tell whether the passages I shall afterward
read in this book are inspired. That is what I want.