Address to the Jury.
* Within thirty miles of New York, in the city of
Morristown, New Jersey, a man was put on trial yesterday for
distributing a pamphlet argument against the infallibility
of the Bible. The crime which the Indictment alleges Is
Blasphemy, for which the statutes of New Jersey provide a
penalty of two hundred dollars fine, or twelve months
imprisonment, or both. It is the first case of the kind ever
tried in New Jersey, although the law dates back to colonial
days. Charles B. Reynolds is the man on trial, and the State
of New Jersey, through the Prosecuting Attorney of Morris
County, is the prosecutor. The Circuit Court, Judge Francis
Child, assisted by County Judges Munson and Quimby, sit upon
the case. Prosecutor Wilder W. Cutler represents the State,
and Robert G. Ingersoll appears for the defendant.
Mr. Reynolds went to Boonton last summer to hold "free-
thought" meetings. Announcing his purpose without any
flourish, he secured a piece of ground, pitched a tent upon
it, and invited the towns-people to come and hear him. It
was understood that he had been a Methodist minister: that,
finding it impossible to reconcile his mind to some of the
historical parts of the Bible, and unable to accept it in
its entirety as a moral guide, he left the church and set
out to proclaim his conclusions. The churches in Boonton
arrayed themselves against him. The Catholics and Methodists
were especially active. Taking this opposition as an excuse,
one element of the town invaded his tent. They pelted
Reynolds with ancient eggs and vegetables. They chopped away
the guy ropes of the tent and slashed the canvas with their
knives. When the tent collapsed, the crowd rushed for the
speaker to inflict further punishment by plunging him in the
duck pond They rummaged the wrecked tent, but in vain. He
had made his way ont in the confusion and was no more seen
in Boonton.
But what he had said did not leave Boonton with him, and the
pamphlets he had distributed were read by many who probably
would not have looked between their covers had his visit
been attended by no unusual circumstances. Boonton was still
agitated up on the subject when Mr. Reynolds appeared in
Morristown. This time he did not try to hold meetings, but
had his pamphlets with him.
Mr. Reynolds appeared in Morristown with the pamphlets on
October thirteenth. A Boonton delegation was there,
clamoring for his indictment for blasphemy. The Grand Jury
heard of his visit and found two indictments against him;
one for blasphemy at
Boonton and the second for blasphemy at Morristown. He
furnished a five hundred dollar bond to appear for trial. On
account of Colonel Ingersoll's throat troubles the case was
adjourned several times through the winter and until Monday
last, when it was set peremptorily for trial yesterday.
The public feeling excited at Boonton was overshadowed by
that at Morristown and the neighboring region. For six
months no topic was so interesting to the public as this. It
monopolized attention at the stores, and became a fruitful
subject of gossip in social and church circles. Under such
circumstances it was to be expected that everybody who could
spare the time would go to court yesterday. Lines of people
began to climb the court house hill early in the morning. At
the hour of opening court the room set apart for the trial
was packed, and distaffs had to be stationed at the foot of
the stairs to keep back those who were not early enough.
From nine thirty to eleven o'clock the crowd inside talked
of blasphemy in all the phases suggested by this case, and
the outsiders waited patiently on the lawn and steps and
along the dusty approaches to the gray building.
Eleven o'clock brought the train from New York and on it
Colonel Ingersoll. His arrival at the court house with his
clerk opened a new chapter in the day's gossip. The event
was so absorbing indeed, that the crowd failed entirely to
notice an elderly man wearing a black frock snit, a silk
hat, with an army badge pinned to his coat, and looking like
a merchant of means, who entered the court house a few
minutes behind the famous lawyer. The last comer was the
defendant.
All was ready for the case. Within five minutes five jurors
were in the box. Then Colonel Ingersoll asked what were his
rights about challenges. He was informed that he might make
six peremptory challenges and must challenge before the
jurors took their seats. The only disqualification the Court
would recognize would be the inability of a juror to change
his opinion in spite of evidence. Colonel Ingersoll induced
the Court to let him examine the five in the box and
promptly ejected two Presbyterians.
Thereafter Colonel Ingersoll examined every juror as soon as
presented. He asked particularly about the nature of each
man's prejudice, if he had one. To a juror who did not know
that he understood the word, the Colonel replied: "I may not
define the word legally, but my own idea is that a man is
prejudiced when he has made up his mind on a case without
knowing anything about it." This juror thought that he came
under that category.
Presbyterians had a rather hard time with the examiner.
After twenty men had been examined and the defence had
exercised five of its peremptory challenges, the following
were sworn as jurymen. * * * *
The jury having been sworn, Prosecutor Cutler announced that
he would try only the indictment for the offence in
Morristown. He said that Reynolds was charged with
distributing pamphlets containing matter claimed to be
blasphemous under the law. If the charge could be proved he
asked a verdict of guilty. Then he called sixteen towns-
people, to most of whom Reynolds had given a pamphlet.
Colonel Ingersoll tried to get the Presbyterian witnesses to
say that they had read the pamphlet. Not one of them
admitted it. Further than this he attempted no
cross-examination.
"I do not know that I shall have any witnesses one way or
the other," Colonel Ingersoll said, rising to suggest a
recess. "Perhaps after dinner I may feel like making a few
remarks."
"There will be great disappointment if you do not" Judge
Child responded, in a tone that meant a word for himself as
well as for the other listeners. The spectators nodded
approval to this sentiment. At 4:20 o'clock Col. Ingersoll
having spoken since 2 o'clock, Judge Child adjourned court
until this morning.
As Colonel Ingersoll left the room a throng pressed after
him to offer congratulations. One old man said: "Colonel
Ingersoll I am a Presbyterian pastor, but I must say that
was the noblest speech in defence of liberty I ever heard!
Your hand, sir; your hand,"--The Times, New York, May
20,1887.
GENTLEMEN of the Jury: I regard this as one of the most important cases
that can be submitted to a jury. It is not a case that involves a little
property, neither is it one that involves simply the liberty of one man.
It involves the freedom of speech, the intellectual liberty of every
citizen of New Jersey.
The question to be tried by you is whether a man has the right to
express his honest thought; and for that reason there can be no case of
greater importance submitted to a jury. And it may be well enough for
me, at the outset, to admit that there could be no case in which I could
take a greater--a deeper interest. For my part, I would not wish to live
in a world where I could not express my honest opinions. Men who deny to
others the right of speech are not fit to live with honest men.
I deny the right of any man, of any number of men, of any church, of
any State, to put a padlock on the lips--to make the tongue a convict.
I passionately deny the right of the Herod of authority to kill the
children of the brain. A man has a right to work with his hands, to
plow the earth, to sow the seed, and that man has a right to reap the
harvest. If we have not that right, then all are slaves except those who
take these rights from their fellow-men. If you have the right to
work with your hands and to gather the harvest for yourself and your
children, have you not a right to cultivate your brain? Have you not the
right to read, to observe, to investigate--and when you have so read and
so investigated, have you not the right to reap that field? And what
is it to reap that field? It is simply to express what you have
ascertained--simply to give your thoughts to your fellow-men.
If there is one subject in this world worthy of being discussed, worthy
of being understood, it is the question of intellectual liberty. Without
that, we are simply painted clay; without that, we are poor, miserable
serfs and slaves. If you have not the right to express your opinions,
if the defendant has not this right, then no man ever walked beneath
the blue of heaven that had the right to express his thought. If others
claim the right, where did they get it? How did they happen to have it,
and how did you happen to be deprived of it? Where did a church or a
nation get that right?
Are we not all children of the same Mother? Are we not all compelled to
think, whether we wish to or not? Can you help thinking as you do? When
you look out upon the woods, the fields,--when you look at the solemn
splendors of the night--these things produce certain thoughts in your
mind, and they produce them necessarily. No man can think as he desires.
No man controls the action of his brain, any more than he controls the
action of his heart. The blood pursues its old accustomed ways in spite
of you. The eyes see, if you open them, in spite of you. The ears hear,
if they are unstopped, without asking your permission. And the brain
thinks in spite of you. Should you express that thought? Certainly you
should, if others express theirs. You have exactly the same right. He
who takes it from you is a robber.
For thousands of years people have been trying to force other people
to think their way. Did they succeed? No. Will they succeed? No. Why?
Because brute force is not an argument. You can stand with the lash over
a man, or you can stand by the prison door, or beneath the gallows, or
by the stake, and say to this man: "Recant or the lash descends, the
prison door is locked upon you, the rope is put about your neck, or the
torch is given to the fagot." And so the man recants. Is he convinced?
Not at all. Have you produced a new argument? Not the slightest. And
yet the ignorant bigots of this world have been trying for thousands of
years to rule the minds of men by brute force. They have endeavored to
improve the mind by torturing the flesh--to spread religion with the
sword and torch. They have tried to convince their brothers by putting
their feet in iron boots, by putting fathers, mothers, patriots,
philosophers and philanthropists in dungeons. And what has been the
result? Are we any nearer thinking alike to-day than we were then?
No orthodox church ever had power that it did not endeavor to make
people think its way by force and flame. And yet every church that
ever was established commenced in the minority, and while it was in the
minority advocated free speech--every one. John Calvin, the founder
of the Presbyterian Church, while he lived in France, wrote a book on
religious toleration in order to show that all men had an equal right to
think; and yet that man afterward, clothed in a little authority, forgot
all his sentiments about religious liberty, and had poor Servetus burned
at the stake, for differing with him on a question that neither of them
knew anything about. In the minority, Calvin advocated toleration--in
the majority, he practiced murder.
I want you to understand what has been done in the world to force men
to think alike. It seems to me that if there is some infinite being who
wants us to think alike, he would have made us alike. Why did he not do
so? Why did he make your brain so that you could not by any possibility
be a Methodist? Why did he make yours so that you could not be a
Catholic? And why did he make the brain of another so that he is an
unbeliever--why the brain of another so that he became a Mohammedan--if
he wanted us all to believe alike?
After all, may be Nature is good enough and grand enough and broad
enough to give us the diversity born of liberty. May be, after all, it
would not be best for us all to be just the same. What a stupid world,
if everybody said yes to everything that everybody else might say.
The most important thing in this world is liberty. More important than
food or clothes--more important than gold or houses or lands--more
important than art or science--more important than all religions, is the
liberty of man.
If civilization tends to do away with liberty, then I agree with
Mr. Buckle that civilization is a curse. Gladly would I give up the
splendors of the nineteenth century--gladly would I forget every
invention that has leaped from the brain of man--gladly would I see all
books ashes, all works of art destroyed, all statues broken, and all
the triumphs of the world lost--gladly, joyously would I go back to
the abodes and dens of savagery, if that were necessary to preserve the
inestimable gem of human liberty. So would every man who has a heart and
brain.
How has the church in every age, when in authority, defended itself?
Always by a statute against blasphemy, against argument, against free
speech. And there never was such a statute that did not stain the book
that it was in, and that did not certify to the savagery of the men who
passed it. Never. By making a statute and by defining blasphemy, the
church sought to prevent discussion--sought to prevent argument--sought
to prevent a man giving his honest opinion. Certainly a tenet, a dogma,
a doctrine, is safe when hedged about by a statute that prevents your
speaking against it. In the silence of slavery it exists. It lives
because lips are locked. It lives because men are slaves.
If I understand myself, I advocate only the doctrines that in my
judgment will make this world happier and better. If I know myself,
I advocate only those things that will make a man a better citizen, a
better father, a kinder husband--that will make a woman a better wife,
a better mother--doctrines that will fill every home with sunshine and
with joy. And if I believed that anything I should say to-day would have
any other possible tendency, I would stop. I am a believer in liberty.
That is my religion--to give to every other human being every right
that I claim for myself, and I grant to every other human being, not the
right--because it is his right--but instead of granting I declare that
it is his right, to attack every doctrine that I maintain, to answer
every argument that I urge--in other words, he must have absolute
freedom of speech.
I am a believer in what I call "intellectual hospitality." A man comes
to your door. If you are a gentleman and he appears to be a good man,
you receive him with a smile. You ask after his health. You say: "Take
a chair; are you thirsty, are you hungry, will you not break bread with
me?" That is what a hospitable, good man does--he does not set the dog
on him. Now, how should we treat a new thought? I say that the brain
should be hospitable and say to the new thought: "Come in; sit down; I
want to cross-examine you; I want to find whether you are good or bad;
if good, stay; if bad, I don't want to hurt you--probably you think you
are all right,--but your room is better than your company, and I will
take another idea in your place." Why not? Can any man have the egotism
to say that he has found it all out? No. Every man who has thought,
knows not only how little he knows, but how little every other human
being knows, and how ignorant, after all, the world must be.
There was a time in Europe when the Catholic Church had power. And I
want it distinctly understood with this jury, that while I am opposed
to Catholicism I am not opposed to Catholics--while I am opposed to
Presbyterianism I am not opposed to Presbyterians. I do not fight
people,--I fight ideas, I fight principles, and I never go
into personalities. As I said, I do not hate Presbyterians, but
Presbyterianism--that is, I am opposed to their doctrine. I do not hate
a man that has the rheumatism--I hate the rheumatism when it has a man.
So I attack certain principles because I think they are wrong, but I
always want it understood that I have nothing against persons--nothing
against victims.
There was a time when the Catholic Church was in power in the Old World.
All at once there arose a man called Martin Luther, and what did the
dear old Catholics think? "Oh," they said, "that man and his followers
are going to hell." But they did not go. They were very good people.
They may have been mistaken--I do not know. I think they were right in
their opposition to Catholicism--but I have just as much objection to
the religion they founded as I have to the church they left. But they
thought they were right, and they made very good citizens, and it turned
out that their differing from the Mother Church did not hurt them.
And then after awhile they began to divide, and there arose Baptists;
and-the other gentlemen, who believed in this law that is now in New
Jersey, began cutting off their ears so that they could hear better;
they began putting them in prison so that they would have a chance to
think. But the Baptists turned out to be good folks--first rate--good
husbands, good fathers, good citizens. And in a little while, in
England, the people turned to be Episcopalians, on account of a little
war that Henry VIII. had with the Pope,--and I always sided with the
Pope in that war--but it made no difference; and in a little while
the Episcopalians turned out to be just about like other folks--no
worse--and, as I know of, no better.
After awhile arose the Puritan, and the Episcopalian said, "We don't
want anything of him--he is a bad man;" and they finally drove some of
them away and they settled in New England, and there were among
them Quakers, than whom there never were better people on the
earth--industrious, frugal, gentle, kind and loving--and yet these
Puritans began hanging them. They said: "They are corrupting our
children; if this thing goes on, everybody will believe in being kind
and gentle and good, and what will become of us?" They were honest about
it. So they went to cutting off ears. But the Quakers were good people
and none of the prophecies were fulfilled.
In a little while there came some Unitarians and they said, "The world
is going to ruin, sure;"--but the world went on as usual, and the
Unitarians produced men like Channing--one of the tenderest spirits that
ever lived--they produced men like Theodore Parker--one of the greatest
brained and greatest hearted men produced upon this continent--a good
man--and yet they thought he was a blasphemer--they even prayed for his
death--on their bended knees they asked their God to take time to kill
him. Well, they were mistaken. Honest, probably.
After awhile came the Universalists, who said: "God is good. He will not
damn anybody always, just for a little mistake he made here. This is
a very short life; the path we travel is very dim, and a great many
shadows fall in the way, and if a man happens to stub his toe, God will
not burn him forever." And then all the rest of the sects cried
out, "Why, if you do away with hell, everybody will murder just for
pastime--everybody will go to stealing just to enjoy themselves." But
they did not. The Universalists were good people--just as good as any
others. Most of them much better. None of the prophecies were fulfilled,
and yet the differences existed.
And so we go on until we find people who do not believe the Bible at
all, and when they say they do not, they come within this statute.
Now, gentlemen, I am going to try to show you, first, that this statute
under which Mr. Reynolds is being tried is unconstitutional--that it is
not in harmony with the constitution of New Jersey; and I am going to
try to show you in addition to that, that it was passed hundreds of
years ago, by men who believed it was right to burn heretics and tie
Quakers to the end of a cart; men and even modest women--stripped
naked--and lash them from town to town. They were the men who originally
passed that statute, and I want to show you that it has slept all this
time, and I am informed--I do not know how it is--that there never has
been a prosecution in this State for blasphemy.
Now, gentlemen, what is blasphemy? Of course nobody knows what it is,
unless he takes into consideration where he is. What is blasphemy in
one country would be a religious exhortation, in another. It is owing to
where you are and who is in authority. And let me call your attention
to the impudence and bigotry of the American Christians. We send
missionaries to other countries. What for? To tell them that their
religion is false, that their gods are myths and monsters, that their
saviors and apostles were impostors, and that our religion is true.
You send a man from Morristown--a Presbyterian, over to Turkey. He goes
there, and he tells the Mohammedans--and he has it in a pamphlet and he
distributes it--that the Koran is a lie, that Mohammed was not a prophet
of God, that the angel Gabriel is not so large that it is four hundred
leagues between his eyes--that it is all a mistake--there never was an
angel so large as that. Then what would the Turks do? Suppose the Turks
had a law like this statute in New Jersey. They would put the Morristown
missionary in jail, and he would send home word, and then what would the
people of Morristown say? Honestly--what do you think they would say?
They would say, "Why, look at those poor, heathen wretches. We sent a
man over there armed with the truth, and yet they were so blinded
by their idolatrous religion, so steeped in superstition, that they
actually put that man in prison." Gentlemen, does not that show the need
of more missionaries? I would say, yes.
Now, let us turn the tables. A gentleman comes from Turkey to
Morristown. He has got a pamphlet. He says, "The Koran is the inspired
book, Mohammed is the real prophet, your Bible is false and your Savior
simply a myth." Thereupon the Morristown people put him in jail.
Then what would the Turks say? They would say, "Morristown needs more
missionaries," and I would agree with them.
In other words, what we want is intellectual hospitality. Let the
world talk. And see how foolish this trial is. I have no doubt that the
prosecuting attorney-agrees with me to-day, that whether this law is
good or bad, this trial should not have taken place. And let me tell you
why. Here comes a man into your town and circulates a pamphlet. Now,
if they had just kept still, very few would ever have heard of it. That
would have been the end. The diameter of the echo would have been a few
thousand feet. But in order to stop the discussion of that question,
they indicted this man, and that question has been more discussed in
this country since this indictment than all the discussions put together
since New Jersey was first granted to Charles II.'s dearest brother
James, the Duke of York.. And what else? A trial here that is to be
reported and published all over the United States, a trial that will
give Mr. Reynolds a congregation of fifty millions of people. And yet
this was done for the purpose of stopping a discussion of this subject.
I want to show you that the thing is in itself almost idiotic--that it
defeats itself, and that you cannot crush out these things by force. Not
only so, but Mr. Reynolds has the right to be defended, and his counsel
has the right to give his opinions on this subject.
Suppose that we put Mr. Reynolds in jail. The argument has not been sent
to jail. That is still going the rounds, free as the winds. Suppose you
keep him at hard labor a year--all the time he is there, hundreds and
thousands of people will be reading some account, or some fragment, of
this trial. There is the trouble. If you could only imprison a thought,
then intellectual tyranny might succeed. If you could only take an
argument and put a striped suit of clothes on it--if you could only
take a good, splendid, shining fact and lock it up in some dungeon of
ignorance, so that its light would never again enter the mind of man,
then you might succeed in stopping human progress. Otherwise, no.
Let us see about this particular statute. In the first place, the State
has a constitution. That constitution is a rule, a limitation to the
power of the Legislature, and a certain breastwork for the protection
of private rights, and the constitution says to this sea of passions
and prejudices: "Thus far and no farther." The constitution says to each
individual: "This shall panoply you; this is your complete coat of mail;
this shall defend your rights." And it is usual in this country to make
as a part of each constitution several general declarations--called the
Bill of Rights. So I find that in the old constitution of New Jersey,
which was adopted in the year of grace 1776, although the people at that
time were not educated as they are now--the spirit of the Revolution at
that time not having permeated all classes of society--a declaration in
favor of religious freedom. The people were on the eve of a revolution.
This constitution was adopted on the third day of July, 1776, one day
before the immortal Declaration of Independence. Now, what do we find
in this--and we have got to go by this light, by this torch, when we
examine the statute.
I find in that constitution, in its Eighteenth Section, this: "No person
shall ever in this State be deprived of the inestimable privilege
of worshiping God, in a manner agreeable to the dictates of his own
conscience; nor under any pretence whatever be compelled to attend any
place of worship contrary to his own faith and judgment; nor shall he
be obliged to pay tithes, taxes, or any other rates for the purpose
of building or repairing any church or churches, contrary to what he
believes to be true." That was a very great and splendid step. It was
the divorce of church and state. It no longer allowed the State to levy
taxes for the support of a particular religion, and it said to every
citizen of New Jersey: All that you give for that purpose must be
voluntarily given, and the State will not compel you to pay for the
maintenance of a church in which you do not believe. So far so good.
The next paragraph was not so good. "There shall be no establishment of
any one religious sect in this State in preference to another, and no
Protestant inhabitants of this State shall be denied the enjoyment of
any civil right merely on account of his religious principles; but all
persons professing a belief in the faith of any Protestant sect, who
shall demean themselves peaceably, shall be capable of being elected to
any office of profit or trust, and shall fully and freely enjoy every
privilege and immunity enjoyed by other citizens."
What became of the Catholics under that clause, I do not know--whether
they had any right to be elected to office or not under this Act. But
in 1844, the State having grown civilized in the meantime, another
constitution was adopted. The word Protestant was then left out.
There was to be no establishment of one religion over another. But
Protestantism did not render a man capable of being elected to office
any more than Catholicism, and nothing is said about any religious
belief whatever. So far, so good.
"No religious test shall be required as a qualification for any office
of public trust. No person shall be denied the enjoyment of any civil
right on account of his religious principles."
That is a very broad and splendid provision. "No person shall be denied
any civil right on account of his religious principles." That was
copied from the Virginia constitution, and that clause in the Virginia
constitution was written by Thomas Jefferson, and under that clause men
were entitled to give their testimony in the courts of Virginia whether
they believed in any religion or not, in any bible or not, or in any god
or not.
That same clause was afterward adopted by the State of Illinois, also by
many other States, and wherever that clause is, no citizen can be denied
any civil right on account of his religious principles. It is a broad
and generous clause. This statute, under which this indictment is drawn,
is not in accordance with the spirit of that splendid sentiment. Under
that clause, no man can be deprived of any civil right on account of his
religious principles, or on account of his belief. And yet, on account
of this miserable, this antiquated, this barbarous and savage statute,
the same man who cannot be denied any political or civil right, can be
sent to the penitentiary as a common felon for simply expressing his
honest thought. And before I get through I hope to convince you that
this statute is unconstitutional.
But we will go another step: "Every person may freely speak, write, or
publish his sentiments on all subjects, being responsible for the abuse
of that right."
That is in the constitution of nearly every State in the Union, and the
intention of that is to cover slanderous words--to cover a case where a
man under pretence of enjoying the freedom of speech falsely assails or
accuses his neighbor. Of course he should be held responsible for that
abuse.
Then follows the great clause in the constitution of 1844--more
important than any other clause in that instrument--a clause that shines
in that constitution like a star at night.--
"No law shall be passed to restrain or abridge the liberty of speech or
of the press."
Can anything be plainer--anything be more forcibly stated?
"No law shall be passed to abridge the liberty of speech."
Now, while you are considering this statute, I want you to keep in mind
this other statement:
"No law shall be passed to restrain or abridge the liberty of speech or
of the press."
And right here there is another thing I want to call your attention to.
There is a constitution higher than any statute. There is a law higher
than any constitution. It is the law of the human conscience, and no man
who is a man will defile and pollute his conscience at the bidding of
any legislature. Above all things, one should maintain his selfrespect,
and there is but one way to do that, and that is to live in accordance
with your highest ideal.
There is a law higher than men can make. The facts as they exist in this
poor world--the absolute consequences of certain acts--they are
above all. And this higher law is the breath of progress, the very
outstretched wings of civilization, under which we enjoy the freedom
we have. Keep that in your minds. There never was a legislature great
enough--there never was a constitution sacred enough, to compel a
civilized man to stand between a black man and his liberty. There never
was a constitution great enough to make me stand between any human being
and his right to express his honest thoughts. Such a constitution is an
insult to the human soul, and I would care no more for it than I would
for the growl of a wild beast. But we are not driven to that necessity
here. This constitution is in accord with the highest and noblest
aspirations of the heart--"No law shall be passed to restrain or abridge
the liberty of speech."
Now let us come to this old law--this law that was asleep for a hundred
years before this constitution was adopted--this law coiled like a
snake beneath the foundations of the Government--this law, cowardly,
dastardly--this law passed by wretches who were afraid: to discuss--this
law passed by men who could not, and who knew they could not, defend
their creed--and so they said: "Give us the sword of the State and we
will cleave the heretic down." And this law was made to control the
minority. When the Catholics were in power they visited that law upon
their opponents. When the Episcopalians were in power, they tortured and
burned the poor Catholic who had scoffed and who had denied the truth of
their religion. Whoever was in power used that, and whoever was out of
power cursed that--and yet, the moment he got in power he used it: The
people became civilized--but that law was on the statute book. It simply
remained. There it was, sound asleep--its lips drawn over its long and
cruel teeth. Nobody savage enough to waken it. And it slept on, and New
Jersey has flourished. Men have done well. You have had average health
in this country. Nobody roused the statute until the defendant in this
case went to Boonton, and there made a speech in which he gave his
honest thought, and the people not having an argument handy, threw
stones. Thereupon Mr. Reynolds, the defendant, published a pamphlet on
Blasphemy and in it gave a photograph of the Boonton Christians. That is
his offence. Now let us read this infamous statute:
"_If any person shall willfully blaspheme the holy name of God by
denying, cursing, or contumeliously reproaching his being_"--
I want to say right here--many a man has cursed the God of another man.
The Catholics have cursed the God of the Protestant. The Presbyterians
have cursed the God of the Catholics--charged them with idolatry--cursed
their images, laughed at their ceremonies. And these compliments have
been interchanged between all the religions of the world. But I say here
to-day that no man, unless a raving maniac, ever cursed the God in whom
he believed. No man, no human being, has ever lived who cursed his own
idea of God. He always curses the idea that somebody else entertains. No
human being ever yet cursed what he believed to be infinite wisdom and
infinite goodness--and you know it. Every man on this jury knows that.
He feels that that must be an absolute certainty. Then what have they
cursed? Some God they did not believe in--that is all. And has a man
that right? I say, yes. He has a right to give his opinion of Jupiter,
and there is nobody in Morristown who will deny him that right. But
several thousands years ago it would have been very dangerous for him to
have cursed Jupiter, and yet Jupiter is just as powerful now as he was
then, but the Roman people are not powerful, and that is all there was
to Jupiter--the Roman people.
So there was a time when you could have cursed Zeus, the god of the
Greeks, and like Socrates, they would have compelled you to drink
hemlock. Yet now everybody can curse this god. Why? Is the god dead? No.
He is just as alive as he ever was. Then what has happened? The Greeks
have passed away. That is all. So in all of our churches here. Whenever
a church is in the minority it clamors for free speech. When it gets in
the majority, no. I do not believe the history of the world will show
that any orthodox church when in the majority ever had the courage to
face the free lips of the world. It sends for a constable. And is it
not wonderful that they should do this when they preach the gospel of
universal forgiveness--when they say, "if a man strike you on one cheek
turn to him the other also--but if he laughs at your religion, put him
in the penitentiary"? Is that the doctrine? Is that the law?
Now, read this law. Do you know as I read it I can almost hear John
Calvin laugh in his grave. That would have been a delight to him. It
is written exactly as he would have written it. There never was an
inquisitor who would not have read that law with a malicious smile. The
Christians who brought the fagots and ran with all their might to be at
the burning, would have enjoyed that law. You know that when they used
to burn people for having said something against religion, they used
to cut their tongues out before they burned them. Why? For fear that if
they did not, the poor, burning victims might say something that would
scandalize the Christian gentlemen who were building the fire. All these
persons would have been delighted with this law.
Let us read a little further:
"--_Or by cursing or contumeliously reproaching Jesus Christ_."
Why, whoever did, since the poor man, or the poor God, was crucified?
How did they come to crucify him? Because they did not believe in free
speech in Jerusalem. How else? Because there was a law against blasphemy
in Jerusalem--a law exactly like this. Just think of it. Oh, I tell
you we have passed too many mile-stones on the shining road of human
progress to turn back and wallow in that blood, in that mire.
No: Some men have said that he was simply a man. Some believed that he
was actually a God. Others believed that he was not only a man, but that
he stood as the representative of infinite love and wisdom. No man ever
said one word against that Being for saying "Do unto others as ye would
that others should do unto you." No man ever raised his voice against
him because he said, "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain
mercy." And are they the "merciful" who when some man endeavors to
answer their argument, put him in the penitentiary? No. The trouble is,
the priests--the trouble is, the ministers--the trouble is, the people
whose business it was to tell the meaning of these things, quarreled'
with each other, and they put meanings upon human expressions by malice,
meanings that the words will not bear. And let me be just to them.
I believe that nearly all that has been done in this world has been
honestly done. I believe that the poor savage who kneels down and prays
to a stuffed snake--prays that his little children may recover from the
fever--is honest, and it seems to me that a good God would answer his
prayer if he could, if it was in accordance with wisdom, because the
poor savage was doing the best he could, and no one can do any better
than that.
So I believe that the Presbyterians who used to think that nearly
everybody was going to hell, said exactly what they believed. They were
honest about it, and I would not send one of them to jail--would never
think of such a thing--even if he called the unbelievers of the world
"wretches," "dogs," and "devils." What would I do? I would simply answer
him--that is all; answer him kindly. I might laugh at him a little, but
I would answer him in kindness.
So these divisions of the human mind are natural. They are a necessity.
Do you know that all the mechanics that ever lived--take the best
ones--cannot make two clocks that will run exactly alike one hour, one
minute? They cannot make two pendulums that will beat in exactly the
same time, one beat. If you cannot do that, how are you going to make
hundreds, thousands, billions of people, each with a different quality
and quantity of brain, each clad in a robe of living, quivering flesh,
and each driven by passion's storm over the wild sea of life--how are
you going to make them all think alike? This is the impossible thing
that Christian ignorance and bigotry and malice have been trying to do.
This was the object of the Inquisition and of the foolish Legislature
that passed this statute.