Mother. Don't "mother" me! You are trying to
disgrace your parents._
_Question_. I want to ask you a few questions about
Mr. Talmage's fourth sermon against you, entitled:
"The Meanness of Infidelity," in which he compares
you to Jehoiakim, who had the temerity to throw
some of the writings of the weeping Jeremiah into
the fire?
_Answer_. So far as I am concerned, I really re-
gret that a second edition of Jeremiah's roll was
gotten out. It would have been far better for us all,
if it had been left in ashes. There was nothing but
curses and prophecies of evil, in the sacred roll that
138
Jehoiakim burned. The Bible tells us that Jehovah
became exceedingly wroth because of the destruction
of this roll, and pronounced a curse upon Jehoiakim
and upon Palestine. I presume it was on account of
the burning of that roll that the king of Babylon
destroyed the chosen people of God. It was on
account of that sacrilege that the Lord said of
Jehoiakim: "He shall have none to sit upon the
"throne of David; and his dead body shall be cast
"out in the day to the heat, and in the night to the
"frost." Any one can see how much a dead body
would suffer under such circumstances. Imagine an
infinitely wise, good and powerful God taking ven-
geance on the corpse of a barbarian king! What
joy there must have been in heaven as the angels
watched the alternate melting and freezing of the
dead body of Jehoiakim!
Jeremiah was probably the most accomplished
croaker of all time. Nothing satisfied him. He was
a prophetic pessimist,--an ancient Bourbon. He
was only happy when predicting war, pestilence and
famine. No wonder Jehoiakim despised him, and
hated all he wrote.
One can easily see the character of Jeremiah from
the following occurrence: When the Babylonians
139
had succeeded in taking Jerusalem, and in sacking
the city, Jeremiah was unfortunately taken prisoner;
but Captain Nebuzaradan came to Jeremiah, and told
him that he would let him go, because he had pro-
phesied against his own country. He was regarded
as a friend by the enemy.
There was, at that time, as now, the old fight
between the church and the civil power. Whenever
a king failed to do what the priests wanted, they
immediately prophesied overthrow, disaster, and de-
feat. Whenever the kings would hearken to their
voice, and would see to it that the priests had plenty
to eat and drink and wear, then they all declared
that Jehovah would love that king, would let him live
out all his days, and allow his son to reign in his
stead. It was simply the old conflict that is still being
waged, and it will be carried on until universal civil-
ization does away with priestcraft and superstition.
The priests in the days of Jeremiah were the same
as now. They sought to rule the State. They pre-
tended that, at their request, Jehovah would withhold
or send the rain; that the seasons were within their
power; that they with bitter words could blight the
fields and curse the land with want and death. They
gloried then, as now, in the exhibition of God's wrath.
140
In prosperity, the priests were forgotten. Success
scorned them; Famine flattered them; Health laughed
at them; Pestilence prayed to them; Disaster was
their only friend.
These old prophets prophesied nothing but evil,
and consequently, when anything bad happened, they
claimed it as a fulfillment, and pointed with pride to
the fact that they had, weeks or months, or years
before, foretold something of that kind. They were
really the originators of the phrase, "I told you so!"
There was a good old Methodist class-leader that
lived down near a place called Liverpool, on the
Illinois river. In the spring of 1861 the old man,
telling his experience, among other things said, that he
had lived there by the river for more than thirty
years, and he did not believe that a year had passed
that there were not hundreds of people during the
hunting season shooting ducks on Sunday; that he
had told his wife thousands of times that no good
would come of it; that evil would come of it; "And
"now, said the old man, raising his voice with the
importance of the announcement, "war is upon us!"
_Question_. Do you wish, as Mr. Talmage says, to de-
stroy the Bible--to have all the copies burned to ashes?
What do you wish to have done with the Bible?
141
_Answer_. I want the Bible treated exactly as we
treat other books--preserve the good and throw
away the foolish and the hurtful. I am fighting the
doctrine of inspiration. As long as it is believed that
the Bible is inspired, that book is the master--no
mind is free. With that belief, intellectual liberty is
impossible. With that belief, you can investigate
only at the risk of losing your soul. The Catholics
have a pope. Protestants laugh at them, and yet the
pope is capable of intellectual advancement. In
addition to this, the pope is mortal, and the church
cannot be afflicted with the same idiot forever. The
Protestants have a book for their pope. The book
cannot advance. Year after year, and century after
century, the book remains as ignorant as ever. It is
only made better by those who believe in its inspira-
tion giving better meanings to the words than their
ancestors did. In this way it may be said that the
Bible grows a little better.
Why should we have a book for a master? That
which otherwise might be a blessing, remains a curse.
If every copy of the Bible were destroyed, all that is
good in that book would be reproduced in a single
day. Leave every copy of the Bible as it is, and
have every human being believe in its inspiration,
142
and intellectual liberty would cease to exist. The
whole race, from that moment, would go back to-
ward the night of intellectual death.
The Bible would do more harm if more people
really believed it, and acted in accordance with its
teachings. Now and then a Freeman puts the knife
to the heart of his child. Now and then an assassin
relies upon some sacred passage; but, as a rule, few
men believe the Bible to be absolutely true.
There are about fifteen hundred million people in
the world. There are not two million who have read
the Bible through. There are not two hundred
million who ever saw the Bible. There are not five
hundred million who ever heard that such a book
exists.
Christianity is claimed to be a religion for all
mankind. It was founded more than eighteen cen-
turies ago; and yet, not one human being in three
has ever heard of it. As a matter of fact, for more
than fourteen centuries and-a-half after the crucifixion
of Christ, this hemisphere was absolutely unknown.
There was not a Christian in the world who knew
there was such a continent as ours, and all the
inhabitants of this, the New World, were deprived
of the gospel for fourteen centuries and-a-half, and
143
knew nothing of its blessings until they were in-
formed by Spanish murderers and marauders. Even
in the United States, Christianity is not keeping pace
with the increase of population. When we take
into consideration that it is aided by the momentum
of eighteen centuries, is it not wonderful that it is not
to-day holding its own? The reason of this is, that
we are beginning to understand the Scriptures. We
are beginningto see, and to see clearly, that they are
simply of human origin, and that the Bible bears
the marks of the barbarians who wrote it. The best
educated among the clergy admit that we know but
little as to the origin of the gospels; that we do not
positively know the author of one of them; that it is
really a matter of doubt as to who wrote the five
books attributed to Moses. They admit now, that
Isaiah was written by more than one person; that
Solomon's Song was not written by that king; that
Job is, in all probability, not a Jewish book; that
Ecclesiastes must have been written by a Freethinker,
and by one who had his doubts about the immortality
of the soul. The best biblical students of the so-
called orthodox world now admit that several stories
were united to make the gospel of Saint Luke; that
Hebrews is a selection from many fragments, and
144
that no human being, not afflicted with delirium
tremens, can understand the book of Revelation.
I am not the only one engaged in the work of
destruction. Every Protestant who expresses a doubt
as to the genuineness of a passage, is destroying the
Bible. The gentlemen who have endeavored to treat
hell as a question of syntax, and to prove that eternal
punishment depends upon grammar, are helping to
bring the Scriptures into contempt. Hundreds of
years ago, the Catholics told the Protestant world that
it was dangerous to give the Bible to the people.
The Catholics were right; the Protestants were
wrong. To read is to think. To think is to investi-
gate. To investigate is, finally, to deny. That book
should have been read only by priests. Every copy
should have been under the lock and key of bishop,
cardinal and pope. The common people should have
received the Bible from the lips of the ministers.
The world should have been kept in ignorance. In
that way, and in that way only, could the pulpit have
maintained its power. He who teaches a child
the alphabet sows the seeds of heresy. I have lived
to see the schoolhouse in many a village larger than
the church. Every man who finds a fact, is the
enemy of theology. Every man who expresses an
145
honest thought is a soldier in the army of intellectual
liberty.
_Question_. Mr. Talmage thinks that you laugh too
much,--that you exhibit too much mirth, and that no
one should smile at sacred things?
_Answer_. The church has always feared ridicule.
The minister despises laughter. He who builds upon
ignorance and awe, fears intelligence and mirth. The
theologians always begin by saying: "Let us be
"solemn." They know that credulity and awe are
twins. They also know that while Reason is the
pilot of the soul, Humor carries the lamp. Whoever
has the sense of humor fully developed, cannot, by
any possibility, be an orthodox theologian. He would
be his own laughing stock. The most absurd stories,
the most laughable miracles, read in a solemn, stately
way, sound to the ears of ignorance and awe like
truth. It has been the object of the church for
eighteen hundred years to prevent laughter.
A smile is the dawn of a doubt.
Ministers are always talking about death, and
coffins, and dust, and worms,--the cross in this life,
and the fires of another. They have been the
enemies of human happiness. They hate to hear
146
even the laughter of children. There seems to have
been a bond of sympathy between divinity and
dyspepsia, between theology and indigestion. There
is a certain pious hatred of pleasure, and those who
have been "born again" are expected to despise
"the transitory joys of this fleeting life." In this,
they follow the example of their prophets, of whom
they proudly say: "They never smiled."
Whoever laughs at a holy falsehood, is called a
"scoffer." Whoever gives vent to his natural feel-
ings is regarded as a "blasphemer," and whoever
examines the Bible as he examines other books, and
relies upon his reason to interpret it, is denounced
as a "reprobate."
Let us respect the truth, let us laugh at miracles,
and above all, let us be candid with each other.
'Question. Mr. Talmage charges that you have, in
your lectures, satirized your early home; that you
have described with bitterness the Sundays that were
forced upon you in your youth; and that in various
ways you have denounced your father as a "tyrant,"
or a "bigot," or a "fool"?
_Answer_. I have described the manner in which
Sunday was kept when I was a boy. My father for
147
many years regarded the Sabbath as a sacred day.
We kept Sunday as most other Christians did. I think
that my father made a mistake about that day. I
have no doubt he was honest about it, and really
believed that it was pleasing to God for him to keep
the Sabbath as he did.
I think that Sunday should not be a day of gloom,
of silence and despair, or a day in which to hear that
the chances are largely in favor of your being eternally
damned. That day, in my opinion, should be one of
joy; a day to get acquainted with your wife and
children; a day to visit the woods, or the sea, or the
murmuring stream; a day to gather flowers, to visit
the graves of your dead, to read old poems, old
letters, old books; a day to rekindle the fires of
friendship and love.
Mr. Talmage says that my father was a Christian,
and he then proceeds to malign his memory. It
seems to me that a living Christian should at least
tell the truth about one who sleeps the silent sleep
of death.
I have said nothing, in any of my lectures, about
my father, or about my mother, or about any of my
relatives. I have not the egotism to bring them
forward. They have nothing to do with the subject
148
in hand. That my father was mistaken upon the
subject of religion, I have no doubt. He was a good,
a brave and honest man. I loved him living, and
I love him dead. I never said to him an unkind
word, and in my heart there never was of him an
unkind thought. He was grand enough to say to
me, that I had the same right to my opinion that he
had to his. He was great enough to tell me to read
the Bible for myself, to be honest with myself, and if
after reading it I concluded it was not the word of
God, that it was my duty to say so.
My mother died when I was but a child; and from
that day--the darkest of my life--her memory has
been within my heart a sacred thing, and I have felt,
through all these years, her kisses on my lips.
I know that my parents--if they are conscious now
--do not wish me to honor them at the expense of
my manhood. I know that neither my father nor my
mother would have me sacrifice upon their graves my
honest thought. I know that I can only please them by
being true to myself, by defending what I believe is
good, by attacking what I believe is bad. Yet this min-
ister of Christ is cruel enough, and malicious enough,
to attack the reputation of the dead. What he says
about my father is utterly and unqualifiedly false.
149
Right here, it may be well enough for me to say,
that long before my father died, he threw aside, as
unworthy of a place in the mind of an intelligent
man, the infamous dogma of eternal fire; that he
regarded with abhorrence many passages in the Old
Testament; that he believed man, in another world,
would have the eternal opportunity of doing right,
and that the pity of God would last as long as the
suffering of man. My father and my mother were
good, in spite of the Old Testament. They were mer-
ciful, in spite of the one frightful doctrine in the New.
They did not need the religion of Presbyterianism.
Presbyterianism never made a human being better.
If there is anything that will freeze the generous
current of the soul, it is Calvinism. If there is any
creed that will destroy charity, that will keep the
tears of pity from the cheeks of men and women, it
is Presbyterianism. If there is any doctrine calcu-
lated to make man bigoted, unsympathetic, and
cruel, it is the doctrine of predestination. Neither
my father, nor my mother, believed in the damnation
of babes, nor in the inspiration of John Calvin.
Mr. Talmage professes to be a Christian. What
effect has the religion of Jesus Christ had upon him?
Is he the product--the natural product--of Chris-
150
tianity? Does the real Christian violate the sanctity
of death? Does the real Christian malign the
memory of the dead? Does the good Christian
defame unanswering and unresisting dust?
But why should I expect kindness from a Chris-
tian? Can a minister be expected to treat with
fairness a man whom his God intends to damn? If
a good God is going to burn an infidel forever, in
the world to come, surely a Christian should have
the right to persecute him a little here.
What right has a Christian to ask anybody to love
his father, or mother, or wife, or child? According
to the gospels, Christ offered a reward to any one
who would desert his father or his mother. He
offered a premium to gentlemen for leaving their
wives, and tried to bribe people to abandon their
little children. He offered them happiness in this
world, and a hundred fold in the next, if they would
turn a deaf ear to the supplications of a father, the
beseeching cry of a wife, and would leave the out-
stretched arms of babes. They were not even
allowed to bury their fathers and their mothers. At
that time they were expected to prefer Jesus to their
wives and children. And now an orthodox minister
says that a man ought not to express his honest
151
thoughts, because they do not happen to be in accord
with the belief of his father or mother.
Suppose Mr. Talmage should read the Bible care-
fully and without fear, and should come to the honest
conclusion that it is not inspired, what course would
he pursue for the purpose of honoring his parents?
Would he say, "I cannot tell the truth, I must lie,
"for the purpose of shedding a halo of glory around
"the memory of my mother"? Would he say: "Of
"course, my father and mother would a thousand
"times rather have their son a hypocritical Christian
"than an honest, manly unbeliever"? This might
please Mr. Talmage, and accord perfectly with his
view, but I prefer to say, that my father wished me to
be an honest man. If he is in "heaven" now, I am
sure that he would rather hear me attack the
"inspired" word of God, honestly and bravely, than
to hear me, in the solemn accents of hypocrisy, defend
what I believe to be untrue.
I may be mistaken in the estimate angels put upon
human beings. It may be that God likes a pretended
follower better than an honest, outspoken man--one
who is an infidel simply because he does not under-
stand this God. But it seems to me, in my unregenerate
condition, touched and tainted as I am by original sin,
152
that a God of infinite power and wisdom ought to be
able to make a man brave enough to have an opinion
of his own. I cannot conceive of God taking any
particular pride in any hypocrite he has ever made.
Whatever he may say through his ministers, or
whatever the angels may repeat, a manly devil
stands higher in my estimation than an unmanly
angel. I do not mean by this, that there are any
unmanly angels, neither do I pretend that there
are any manly devils. My meaning is this: If I have
a Creator, I can only honor him by being true to
myself, and kind and just to my fellow-men. If I wish
to shed lustre upon my father and mother, I can
only do so by being absolutely true to myself.
Never will I lay the wreath of hypocrisy upon the
tombs of those I love.
Mr. Talmage takes the ground that we must defend
the religious belief of our parents. He seems to
forget that all parents do not believe exactly alike,
and that everybody has at least two parents. Now,
suppose that the father is an infidel, and the mother
a Christian, what must the son do? Must he "drive
"the ploughshare of contempt through the grave of
"the father," for the purpose of honoring the mother;
or must he drive the ploughshare through the grave
153
of the mother to honor the father; or must he com-
promise, and talk one way and believe another? If
Mr. Talmage's doctrine is correct, only persons who
have no knowledge of their parents can have liberty
of opinion. Foundlings would be the only free
people. I do not suppose that Mr. Talmage would
go so far as to say that a child would be bound by
the religion of the person upon whose door-steps he
was found. If he does not, then over every foundling
hospital should be these words: "Home of Intel-
"lectual Liberty."
_Question_. Do you suppose that we will care
nothing in the next world for those we loved in this?
Is it worse in a man than in an angel, to care nothing
for his mother?
_Answer_. According to Mr. Talmage, a man can
be perfectly happy in heaven, with his mother in hell.
He will be so entranced with the society of Christ,
that he will not even inquire what has become of his
wife. The Holy Ghost will keep him in such a state
of happy wonder, of ecstatic joy, that the names,
even, of his children will never invade his memory.
It may be that I am lacking in filial affection, but
I would much rather be in hell, with my parents
154
in heaven, than be in heaven with my parents in hell.
I think a thousand times more of my parents than I
do of Christ. They knew me, they worked for me,
they loved me, and I can imagine no heaven, no
state of perfect bliss for me, in which they have no
share. If God hates me, because I love them,
I cannot love him.
I cannot truthfully say that I look forward with any
great degree of joy, to meeting with Haggai and
Habakkuk; with Jeremiah, Nehemiah, Obadiah,
Zechariah or Zephaniah; with Ezekiel, Micah, or
Malachi; or even with Jonah. From what little
I have read of their writings, I have not formed a
very high opinion of the social qualities of these
gentlemen.
I want to meet the persons I have known; and if
there is another life, I want to meet the really and
the truly great--men who have been broad enough to
be tender, and great enough to be kind.
Because I differ with my parents, because I am
convinced that my father was wrong in some of
his religious opinions, Mr. Talmage insists that I dis-
grace my parents. How did the Christian religion
commence? Did not the first disciples advocate
theories that their parents denied? Were they
155
not false,--in his sense of the word,--to their
fathers and mothers? How could there have been
any progress in this world, if children had not
gone beyond their parents? Do you consider that
the inventor of a steel plow cast a slur upon his
father who scratched the ground with a wooden
one? I do not consider that an invention by the
son is a slander upon the father; I regard each
invention simply as an improvement; and every
father should be exceedingly proud of an ingenious
son. If Mr. Talmage has a son, it will be impossible
for him to honor his father except by differing with
him.
It is very strange that Mr. Talmage, a believer in
Christ, should object to any man for not loving his
mother and his father, when his Master, according
to the gospel of Saint Luke, says: "If any man
"come to me, and hate not his father, and mother,
"and wife, and children, and brethren, and sis-
"ters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my
"disciple."
According to this, I have to make my choice be-
tween my wife, my children, and Jesus Christ. I have
concluded to stand by my folks--both in this world,
and in "the world to come."
156
_Question_. Mr. Talmage asks you whether, in your
judgment, the Bible was a good, or an evil, to your
parents?
_Answer_. I think it was an evil. The worst thing
about my father was his religion. He would have
been far happier, in my judgment, without it. I
think I get more real joy out of life than he did.
He was a man of a very great and tender heart. He
was continually thinking--for many years of his
life--of the thousands and thousands going down to
eternal fire. That doctrine filled his days with
gloom, and his eyes with tears. I think that my
father and mother would have been far happier had
they believed as I do. How any one can get any
joy out of the Christian religion is past my compre-
hension. If that religion is true, hundreds of mil-
lions are now in hell, and thousands of millions yet
unborn will be. How such a fact can form any part
of the "glad tidings of great joy," is amazing to me.
It is impossible for me to love a being who would
create countless millions for eternal pain. It is
impossible for me to worship the God of the Bible,
or the God of Calvin, or the God of the Westminster
Catechism.
157
_Question_. I see that Mr. Talmage challenges you
to read the fourteenth chapter of Saint John. Are
you willing to accept the challenge; or have you
ever read that chapter?
_Answer_. I do not claim to be very courageous,
but I have read that chapter, and am very glad that
Mr. Talmage has called attention to it. According
to the gospels, Christ did many miracles. He healed
the sick, gave sight to the blind, made the lame
walk, and raised the dead. In the fourteenth chapter
of Saint John, twelfth verse, I find the following:
"Verily, verily, I say unto you: He that believeth
"on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and
"greater works than these shall he do, because I go
"unto my Father."
I am willing to accept that as a true test of a
believer. If Mr. Talmage really believes in Jesus
Christ, he ought to be able to do at least as great
miracles as Christ is said to have done. Will Mr.
Talmage have the kindness to read the fourteenth
chapter of John, and then give me some proof, in
accordance with that chapter, that he is a believer in
Jesus Christ? Will he have the kindness to perform
a miracle?--for instance, produce a "local flood,"
make a worm to smite a gourd, or "prepare a fish"?
158
Can he do anything of that nature? Can he even
cause a "vehement east wind"? What evidence,
according to the Bible, can Mr. Talmage give of his
belief? How does he prove that he is a Christian?
By hating infidels and maligning Christians? Let
Mr. Talmage furnish the evidence, according to the
fourteenth chapter of Saint John, or forever after
hold his peace.
He has my thanks for calling my attention to the
fourteenth chapter of Saint John.
_Question_. Mr. Talmage charges that you are at-
tempting to destroy the "chief solace of the world,"
without offering any substitute. How do you answer
this?
_Answer_. If he calls Christianity the "chief solace
"of the world," and if by Christianity he means that all
who do not believe in the inspiration of the Scrip-
tures, and have no faith in Jesus Christ, are to be
eternally damned, then I admit that I am doing the
best I can to take that "solace" from the human
heart. I do not believe that the Bible, when prop-
erly understood, is, or ever has been, a comfort to
any human being. Surely, no good man can be
comforted by reading a book in which he finds that
159
a large majority of mankind have been sentenced to
eternal fire. In the doctrine of total depravity there
is no "solace." In the doctrine of "election" there can
be no joy until the returns are in, and a majority
found for you.
_Question_. Mr. Talmage says that you are taking
away the world's medicines, and in place of anaes-
thetics, in place of laudanum drops, you read an
essay to the man in pain, on the absurdities of mor-
phine and nervines in general.
_Answer_. It is exactly the other way. I say, let
us depend upon morphine, not upon prayer. Do
not send for the minister--take a little laudanum.
Do not read your Bible,--chloroform is better. Do
not waste your time listening to meaningless ser-
mons, but take real, genuine soporifics.
I regard the discoverer of ether as a benefactor.
I look upon every great surgeon as a blessing to
mankind. I regard one doctor, skilled in his profes-
sion, of more importance to the world than all the
orthodox ministers.
Mr. Talmage should remember that for hundreds
of years, the church fought, with all its power, the
science of medicine. Priests used to cure diseases
160
by selling little pieces of paper covered with cabalistic
marks. They filled their treasuries by the sale of
holy water. They healed the sick by relics--the teeth
and ribs of saints, the finger-nails of departed wor-
thies, and the hair of glorified virgins. Infidelity
said: "Send for the doctor." Theology said: "Stick
"to the priest." Infidelity,--that is to say, science,--
said: "Vaccinate him." The priest said: "Pray;--
"I will sell you a charm." The doctor was regarded
as a man who was endeavoring to take from God his
means of punishment. He was supposed to spike
the artillery of Jehovah, to wet the powder of the
Almighty, and to steal the flint from the musket of
heavenly retribution.
Infidelity has never relied upon essays, it has
never relied upon words, it has never relied upon
prayers, it has never relied upon angels or gods; it
has relied upon the honest efforts of men and women.
It has relied upon investigation, observation, experi-
ence, and above all, upon human reason.
We, in America, know how much prayers are
worth. We have lately seen millions of people upon
their knees. What was the result?
In the olden times, when a plague made its ap-
pearance, the people fell upon their knees and died.
161
When pestilence came, they rushed to their ca-
thedrals, they implored their priests--and died. God
had no pity upon his ignorant children. At last,
Science came to the rescue. Science,--not in the
attitude of prayer, with closed eyes, but in the atti-
tude of investigation, with open eyes,--looked for and
discovered some of the laws of health. Science
found that cleanliness was far better than godliness. It
said: Do not spend your time in praying;--clean your
houses, clean your streets, clean yourselves. This pest-
ilence is not a punishment. Health is not simply a favor
of the gods. Health depends upon conditions, and
when the conditions are violated, disease is inevitable,
and no God can save you. Health depends upon
your surroundings, and when these are favorable,
the roses are in your cheeks.
We find in the Old Testament that God gave
to Moses a thousand directions for ascertaining
the presence of leprosy. Yet it never occurred
to this God to tell Moses how to cure the disease.
Within the lids of the Old Testament, we have no
information upon a subject of such vital importance
to mankind.
It may, however, be claimed by Mr. Talmage, that
this statement is a little too broad, and I will therefore
162
give one recipe that I find in the fourteenth chapter
of Leviticus:
"Then shall the priest command to take for him
" that is to be cleansed two birds alive and clean, and
"cedar wood, and scarlet, and hyssop; and the priest
"shall command that one of the birds be killed in an
"earthen vessel over running water. As for the
"living bird, he shall take it, and the cedar wood,
"and the scarlet, and the hyssop, and shall dip them
"and the living bird in the blood of the bird that was
"killed over the running water. And he shall
"sprinkle upon him that is to be cleansed from the
"leprosy seven times, and shall pronounce him clean,
"and shall let the living bird loose into the open
"field."
Prophets were predicting evil--filling the country
with their wails and cries, and yet it never occurred
to them to tell one solitary thing of the slightest
importance to mankind. Why did not these inspired
men tell us how to cure some of the diseases that
have decimated the world? Instead of spending
forty days and forty nights with Moses, telling him
how to build a large tent, and how to cut the gar-
ments of priests, why did God not give him a little
useful information in respect to the laws of health?
163
Mr. Talmage must remember that the church has
invented no anodynes, no anaesthetics, no medicines,
and has affected no cures. The doctors have not
been inspired. All these useful things men have
discovered for themselves, aided by no prophet and
by no divine Savior. Just to the extent that man
has depended upon the other world, he has failed to
make the best of this. Just in the proportion that he
has depended on his own efforts, he has advanced.
The church has always said:
"Consider the lilies of the field; they toil not,
"neither do they spin." "Take no thought for the
"morrow." Whereas, the real common sense of this
world has said: "No matter whether lilies toil and
spin, or not, if you would succeed, you must work;
you must take thought for the morrow, you must
look beyond the present day, you must provide for
your wife and your children."
What can I be expected to give as a substitute for
perdition? It is enough to show that it does not
exist. What does a man want in place of a disease?
Health. And what is better calculated to increase
the happiness of mankind than to know that the
doctrine of eternal pain is infinitely and absurdly
false?
164
Take theology from the world, and natural Love
remains, Science is still here, Music will not be lost,
the page of History will still be open, the walls of
the world will still be adorned with Art, and the
niches rich with Sculpture.
Take theology from the world, and we all shall
have a common hope,--and the fear of hell will be
removed from every human heart.
Take theology from the world, and millions of
men will be compelled to earn an honest living.
Impudence will not tax credulity. The vampire of
hypocrisy will not suck the blood of honest toil.
Take theology from the world, and the churches
can be schools, and the cathedrals universities.
Take theology from the world, and the money
wasted on superstition will do away with want.
Take theology from the world, and every brain
will find itself without a chain.
There is a vast difference between what is called
infidelity and theology.
Infidelity is honest. When it reaches the confines
of reason, it says: "I know no further."
Infidelity does not palm its guess upon an ignorant
world as a demonstration.
165
Infidelity proves nothing by slander--establishes
nothing by abuse.
Infidelity has nothing to hide. It has no "holy
"of holies," except the abode of truth. It has no
curtain that the hand of investigation has not the
right to draw aside. It lives in the cloudless light,
in the very noon, of human eyes.
Infidelity has no bible to be blasphemed. It does
not cringe before an angry God.
Infidelity says to every man: Investigate for
yourself. There is no punishment for unbelief.
Infidelity asks no protection from legislatures. It
wants no man fined because he contradicts its doc-
trines.
Infidelity relies simply upon evidence--not evi-
dence of the dead, but of the living.
Infidelity has no infallible pope. It relies only
upon infallible fact. It has no priest except the
interpreter of Nature. The universe is its church.
Its bible is everything that is true. It implores every
man to verify every word for himself, and it implores
him to say, if he does not believe it, that he does
not.
Infidelity does not fear contradiction. It is not
afraid of being laughed at. It invites the scrutiny
166
of all doubters, of all unbelievers. It does not rely
upon awe, but upon reason. It says to the whole
world: It is dangerous not to think. It is dan-
gerous not to be honest. It is dangerous not to
investigate. It is dangerous not to follow where
your reason leads.
Infidelity requires every man to judge for himself.
Infidelity preserves the manhood of man.
_Question_. Mr. Talmage also says that you are
trying to put out the light-houses on the coast of the
next world; that you are "about to leave everybody
"in darkness at the narrows of death"?
_Answer_. There can be no necessity for these
light-houses, unless the God of Mr. Talmage has
planted rocks and reefs within that unknown sea.
If there is no hell, there is no need of any light-
house on the shores of the next world; and only
those are interested in keeping up these pretended
light-houses who are paid for trimming invisible
wicks and supplying the lamps with allegorical oil.
Mr. Talmage is one of these light-house keepers,
and he knows that if it is ascertained that the coast
is not dangerous, the light-house will be abandoned,
and the keeper will have to find employment else-
167
where. As a matter of fact, every church is a use-
less light-house. It warns us only against breakers
that do not exist. Whenever a mariner tells one of
the keepers that there is no danger, then all the
keepers combine to destroy the reputation of that
mariner.
No one has returned from the other world to tell
us whether they have light-houses on that shore or
not; or whether the light-houses on this shore--one
of which Mr. Talmage is tending--have ever sent a
cheering ray across the sea.
Nature has furnished every human being with
a light more or less brilliant, more or less powerful.
That light is Reason; and he who blows that light
out, is in utter darkness. It has been the business of
the church for centuries to extinguish the lamp of the
mind, and to convince the people that their own
reason is utterly unreliable. The church has asked
all men to rely only upon the light of the church.
Every priest has been not only a light-house but
a guide-board. He has threatened eternal damna-
tion to all who travel on some other road. These
guide-boards have been toll-gates, and the principal
reason why the churches have wanted people to go
their road is, that tolls might be collected. They
168
have regarded unbelievers as the owners of turnpikes
do people who go 'cross lots. The toll-gate man
always tells you that other roads are dangerous--
filled with quagmires and quicksands.
Every church is a kind of insurance society, and
proposes, for a small premium, to keep you from
eternal fire. Of course, the man who tells you that
there is to be no fire, interferes with the business,
and is denounced as a malicious meddler and blas-
phemer. The fires of this world sustain the same
relation to insurance companies that the fires of the
next do to the churches.
Mr. Talmage also insists that I am breaking up the
"life-boats." Why should a ship built by infinite
wisdom, by an infinite shipbuilder, carry life-boats?
The reason we have life-boats now is, that we are
not entirely sure of the ship. We know that man
has not yet found out how to make a ship that can
certainly brave all the dangers of the deep. For this
reason we carry life-boats. But infinite wisdom must
surely build ships that do not need life-boats. Is there
to be a wreck at last? Is God's ship to go down in
storm and darkness? Will it be necessary at last to
forsake his ship and depend upon life-boats?