<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h2> ERNEST RENAN. </h2>
<p>
"Blessed are those<br/>
Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled<br/>
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger<br/>
To sound what stop she please."<br/></p>
<p>ERNEST RENAN is dead. Another source of light; another force of
civilization; another charming personality; another brave soul, graceful
in thought, generous in deed; a sculptor in speech, a colorist in words—clothing
all in the poetry born of a delightful union of heart and brain—has
passed to the realm of rest.</p>
<p>Reared under the influences of Catholicism, educated for the priesthood,
yet by reason of his natural genius, he began to think. Forces that
utterly subjugate and enslave the mind of mediocrity sometimes rouse to
thought and action the superior soul.</p>
<p>Renan began to think—a dangerous thing for a Catholic to do. Thought
leads to doubt, doubt to investigation, investigation to truth—the
enemy of all superstition.</p>
<p>He lifted the Catholic extinguisher from the light and flame of reason. He
found that his mental vision was improved. He read the Scriptures for
himself, examined them as he did other books not claiming to be inspired.
He found the same mistakes, the same prejudices, the same miraculous
impossibilities in the book attributed to God that he found in those known
to have been written by men.</p>
<p>Into the path of reason, or rather into the highway, Renan was led by
Henriette, his sister, to whom he pays a tribute that has the perfume of a
perfect flower.</p>
<p>"I was," writes Renan, "brought up by women and priests, and therein lies
the whole explanation of my good qualities and of my defects." In most
that he wrote is the tenderness of woman, only now and then a little touch
of the priest showing itself, mostly in a reluctance to spoil the ivy by
tearing down some prison built by superstition.</p>
<p>In spite of the heartless "scheme" of things he still found it in his
heart to say, "When God shall be complete, He will be just," at the same
time saying that "nothing proves to us that there exists in the world a
central consciousness—a soul of the universe—and nothing
proves the contrary." So, whatever was the verdict of his brain, his heart
asked for immortality. He wanted his dream, and he was willing that others
should have theirs. Such is the wish and will of all great souls.</p>
<p>He knew the church thoroughly and anticipated what would finally be
written about him by churchmen: "Having some experience of ecclesiastical
writers I can sketch out in advance the way my biography will be written
in Spanish in some Catholic review, of Santa Fé, in the year 2,000.
Heavens! how black I shall be! I shall be so all the more, because the
church when she feels that she is lost will end with malice. She will bite
like a mad dog."</p>
<p>He anticipated such a biography because he had thought for himself, and
because he had expressed his thoughts—because he had declared that
"our universe, within the reach of our experience, is not governed by any
intelligent reason. God, as the common herd understand him, the living
God, the acting God—the God-Providence, does not show himself in the
universe"—because he attacked the mythical and the miraculous in the
life of Christ and sought to rescue from the calumnies of ignorance and
faith a serene and lofty soul.</p>
<p>The time has arrived when Jesus must become a myth or a man. The idea that
he was the infinite God must be abandoned by all who are not religiously
insane. Those who have given up the claim that he was God, insist that he
was divinely appointed and illuminated; that he was a perfect man—the
highest possible type of the human race and, consequently, a perfect
example for all the world.</p>
<p>As time goes on, as men get wider or grander or more complex ideas of
life, as the intellectual horizon broadens, the idea that Christ was
perfect may be modified.</p>
<p>The New Testament seems to describe several individuals under the same
name, or at least one individual who passed through several stages or
phases of religious development. Christ is described as a devout Jew, as
one who endeavored to comply in all respects with the old law. Many
sayings are attributed to him consistent with this idea. He certainly was
a Hebrew in belief and feeling when he said, "Swear not by Heaven, because
it is God's throne, nor by earth, for it is his footstool; nor by
Jerusalem, for it is his holy city." These reasons were in exact
accordance with the mythology of the Jews. God was regarded simply as an
enormous man, as one who walked in the garden in the cool of the evening,
as one who had met man face to face, who had conversed with Moses for
forty days upon Mount Sinai, as a great king, with a throne in the
heavens, using the earth to rest his feet upon, and regarding Jerusalem as
his holy city.</p>
<p>Then we find plenty of evidence that he wished to reform the religion of
the Jews; to fulfill the law, not to abrogate it Then there is still
another change: he has ceased his efforts to reform that religion and has
become a destroyer. He holds the Temple in contempt and repudiates the
idea that Jerusalem is the holy city. He concludes that it is unnecessary
to go to some mountain or some building to worship or to find God, and
insists that the heart is the true temple, that ceremonies are useless,
that all pomp and pride and show are needless, and that it is enough to
worship God under heaven's dome, in spirit and in truth.</p>
<p>It is impossible to harmonize these views unless we admit that Christ was
the subject of growth and change; that in consequence of growth and change
he modified his views; that, from wanting to preserve Judaism as it was,
he became convinced that it ought to be reformed. That he then abandoned
the idea of reformation, and made up his mind that the only reformation of
which the Jewish religion was capable was destruction. If he was in fact a
man, then the course he pursued was natural; but if he was God, it is
perfectly absurd. If we give to him perfect knowledge, then it is
impossible to account for change or growth. If, on the other hand, the
ground is taken that he was a perfect man, then, it might be asked, Was he
perfect when he wished to preserve, or when he wished to reform, or when
he resolved to destroy, the religion of the Jews? If he is to be regarded
as perfect, although not divine, when did he reach perfection?</p>
<p>It is perfectly evident that Christ, or the character that bears that
name, imagined that the world was about to be destroyed, or at least
purified by fire, and that, on account of this curious belief, he became
the enemy of marriage, of all earthly ambition and of all enterprise. With
that view in his mind, he said to himself, "Why should we waste our
energies in producing food for destruction? Why should we endeavor to
beautify a world that is so soon to perish?" Filled with the thought of
coming change, he insisted that there was but one important thing, and
that was for each man to save his soul. He should care nothing for the
ties of kindred, nothing for wife or child or property, in the shadow of
the coming disaster. He should take care of himself. He endeavored, as it
is said, to induce men to desert all they had, to let the dead, bury the
dead, and follow him. He told his disciples, or those he wished to make
his disciples, according to the Testament, that it was their duty to
desert wife and child and property, and if they would so desert kindred
and wealth, he would reward them here and hereafter.</p>
<p>We know now—if we know anything—that Jesus was mistaken about
the coming of the end, and we know now that he was greatly controlled in
his ideas of life, by that mistake. Believing that the end was near, he
said, "Take no thought for the morrow, what ye shall eat or what ye shall
drink or wherewithal ye shall be clothed." It was in view of the
destruction of the world that he called the attention of his disciples to
the lily that toiled not and yet excelled Solomon in the glory of its
raiment. Having made this mistake, having acted upon it, certainly we
cannot now say that he was perfect in knowledge.</p>
<p>He is regarded by many millions as the impersonation of patience, of
forbearance, of meekness and mercy, and yet, according to the account, he
said many extremely bitter words, and threatened eternal pain.</p>
<p>We also know, if the account be true, that he claimed to have supernatural
power, to work miracles, to cure the blind and to raise the dead, and we
know that he did nothing of the kind. So if the writers of the New
Testament tell the truth as to what Christ claimed, it is absurd to say
that he was a perfect man. If honest, he was deceived, and those who are
deceived are not perfect.</p>
<p>There is nothing in the New Testament, so far as we know, that touches on
the duties of nation to nation, or of nation to its citizens; nothing of
human liberty; not one word about education; not the faintest hint that
there is such a thing as science; nothing calculated to stimulate
industry, commerce, or invention; not one word in favor of art, of music
or anything calculated to feed or clothe the body, nothing to develop the
brain of man.</p>
<p>When it is assumed that the life of Christ, as described in the New
Testament, is perfect, we at least take upon ourselves the burden of
deciding what perfection is. People who asserted that Christ was divine,
that he was actually God, reached the conclusion, without any laborious
course of reasoning, that all he said and did was absolute perfection.
They said this because they had first been convinced that he was divine.
The moment his divinity is given up and the assertion is made that he was
perfect, we are not permitted to reason in that way. They said he was God,
therefore perfect. Now, if it is admitted that he was human, the
conclusion that he was perfect does not follow. We then take the burden
upon ourselves of deciding what perfection is. To decide what is perfect
is beyond the powers of the human mind.</p>
<p>Renan, in spite of his education, regarded Christ as a man, and did the
best he could to account for the miracles that had been attributed to him,
for the legends that had gathered about his name, and the impossibilities
connected with his career, and also tried to account for the origin or
birth of these miracles, of these legends, of these myths, including the
resurrection and ascension. I am not satisfied with all the conclusions he
reached or with all the paths he traveled. The refraction of light caused
by passing through a woman's tears is hardly a sufficient foundation for a
belief in so miraculous a miracle as the bodily ascension of Jesus Christ.</p>
<p>There is another thing attributed to Christ that seems to me conclusive
evidence against the claim of perfection. Christ is reported to have said
that all sins could be forgiven except the sin against the Holy Ghost.
This sin, however, is not defined. Although Christ died for the whole
world, that through him all might be saved, there is this one terrible
exception: There is no salvation for those who have sinned, or who may
hereafter sin, against the Holy Ghost. Thousands of persons are now in
asylums, having lost their reason because of their fear that they had
committed this unknown, this undefined, this unpardonable sin.</p>
<p>It is said that a Roman Emperor went through a form of publishing his laws
or proclamations, posting them so high on pillars that they could not be
read, and then took the lives of those who ignorantly violated these
unknown laws. He was regarded as a tyrant, as a murderer. And yet, what
shall we say of one who declared that the sin against the Holy Ghost was
the only one that could not be forgiven, and then left an ignorant world
to guess what that sin is? Undoubtedly this horror is an interpolation.</p>
<p>There is something like it in the Old Testament. It is asserted by
Christians that the Ten Commandments are the foundation of all law and of
all civilization, and you will find lawyers insisting that the Mosaic Code
was the first information that man received on the subject of law; that
before that time the world was without any knowledge of justice or mercy.
If this be true the Jews had no divine laws, no real instruction on any
legal subject until the Ten Commandments were given. Consequently, before
that time there had been proclaimed or published no law against the
worship of other gods or of idols. Moses had been on Mount Sinai talking
with Jehovah. At the end of the dialogue he received the Tables of Stone
and started down the mountain for the purpose of imparting this
information to his followers. When he reached the camp he heard music. He
saw people dancing, and he found that in his absence Aaron and the rest of
the people had cast a molten calf which they were then worshiping. This so
enraged Moses that he broke the Tables of Stone and made preparations for
the punishment of the Jews. Remember that they knew nothing about this
law, and, according to the modern Christian claims, could not have known
that it was wrong to melt gold and silver and mould it in the form of a
calf. And yet Moses killed about thirty thousand of these people for
having violated a law of which they had never heard; a law known only to
one man and one God. Nothing could be more unjust, more ferocious, than
this; and yet it can hardly be said to exceed in cruelty the announcement
that a certain sin was unpardonable and then fail to define the sin.
Possibly, to inquire what the sin is, is the sin.</p>
<p>Renan regards Jesus as a man, and his work gets its value from the fact
that it is written from a human standpoint. At the same time he,
consciously or unconsciously, or may be for the purpose of sprinkling a
little holy water on the heat of religious indignation, now and then seems
to speak of him as more than human, or as having accomplished something
that man could not.</p>
<p>He asserts that "the Gospels are in part legendary; that they contain many
things not true; that they are full of miracles and of the supernatural."
At the same time he insists that these legends, these miracles, these
supernatural things do not affect the truth of the probable things
contained in these writings. He sees, and sees clearly, that there is no
evidence that Matthew or Mark or Luke or John wrote the books attributed
to them; that, as a matter of fact, the mere title of "according to
Matthew," "according to Mark," shows that they were written by others who
claimed them to be in accordance with the stories that had been told by
Matthew or by Mark. So Renan takes the ground that the Gospel of Luke is
founded on anterior documents and "is the work of a man who selected,
pruned and combined, and that the same man wrote the Acts of the Apostles
and in the same way."</p>
<p>The gospels were certainly written long after the events described, and
Renan finds the reason for this in the fact that the Christians believed
that the world was about to end; that, consequently, there was no need of
composing books; it was only necessary for them to preserve in their
hearts during the little margin of time that remained a lively image of
Him whom they soon expected to meet in the clouds. For this reason the
gospels themselves had but little authority for 150 years, the Christians
relying on oral traditions. Renan shows that there was not the slightest
scruple about inserting additions in the gospels, variously combining
them, and in completing some by taking parts from others; that the books
passed from hand to hand, and that each one transcribed in the margin of
his copy the words and parables he had found elsewhere which touched him;
that it was not until human tradition became weakened that the text
bearing the names of the apostles became authoritative.</p>
<p>Renan has criticised the gospels somewhat in the same spirit that he would
criticise a modern work. He saw clearly that the metaphysics filling the
discourses of John were deformities and distortions, full of mysticism,
having nothing to do really with the character of Jesus. He shows too
"that the simple idea of the Kingdom of God, at the time the Gospel
according to St. John was written, had faded away; that the hope of the
advent of Christ was growing dim, and that from belief the disciples
passed into discussion, from discussion to dogma, from dogma to ceremony,"
and, finding that the new Heaven and the new Earth were not coming as
expected, they turned their attention to governing the old Heaven and the
old Earth. The disciples were willing to be humble for a few days, with
the expectation of wearing crowns forever. They were satisfied with
poverty, believing that the wealth of the world was to be theirs. The
coming of Christ, however, being for some unaccountable reason delayed,
poverty and humility grew irksome, and human nature began to assert
itself.</p>
<p>In the Gospel of John you will find the metaphysics of the church. There
you find the Second Birth. There you find the doctrine of the atonement
clearly set forth. There you find that God died for the whole world, and
that whosoever believeth not in him is to be damned. There is nothing of
the kind in Matthew. Matthew makes Christ say that, if you will forgive
others, God will forgive you. The Gospel "according to Mark" is the same.
So is the Gospel "according to Luke." There is nothing about salvation
through belief, nothing about the atonement. In Mark, in the last chapter,
the apostles are told to go into all the world and preach the gospel, with
the statement that whoever believed and was baptised should be saved, and
whoever failed to believe should be damned. But we now know that that is
an interpolation. Consequently, Matthew, Mark and Luke never had the
faintest conception of the "Christian religion." They knew nothing of the
atonement, nothing of salvation by faith—nothing. So that if a man
had read only Matthew, Mark and Luke, and had strictly followed what he
found, he would have found himself, after death, in perdition.</p>
<p>Renan finds that certain portions of the Gospel "according to John" were
added later; that the entire twenty-first chapter is an interpolation;
also, that many places bear the traces of erasures and corrections. So he
says that it would be "impossible for any one to compose a life of Jesus,
with any meaning in it, from the discourses which John attributes to him,
and he holds that this Gospel of John is full of preaching, Christ
demonstrating himself; full of argumentation, full of stage effect, devoid
of simplicity, with long arguments after each miracle, stiff and awkward
discourses, the tone of which is often false and unequal." He also insists
that there are evidently "artificial portions, variations like that of a
musician improvising on a given theme."</p>
<p>In spite of all this, Renan, willing to soothe the prejudice of his time,
takes the ground that the four canonical gospels are authentic, that they
date from the first century, that the authors were, generally speaking,
those to whom they are attributed; but he insists that their historic
value is very diverse. This is a back-handed stroke. Admitting, first,
that they are authentic; second, that they were written about the end of
the first century; third, that they are not of equal value, disposes, so
far as he is concerned, of the dogma of inspiration.</p>
<p>One is at a loss to understand why four gospels should have been written.
As a matter of fact there can be only one true account of any occurrence,
or of any number of occurrences. Now, it must be taken for granted, that
an inspired account is true. Why then should there be four inspired
accounts? It may be answered that all were not to write the entire story.
To this the reply is that all attempted to cover substantially the same
ground.</p>
<p>Many years ago the early fathers thought it necessary to say why there
were four inspired books, and some of them said, because there were four
cardinal directions and the gospels fitted the north, south, east and
west. Others said that there were four principal winds—a gospel for
each wind. They might have added that some animals have four legs.</p>
<p>Renan admits that the narrative portions have not the same authority;
"that many legends proceeded from the zeal of the second Christian
generation; that the narrative of Luke is historically weak; that
sentences attributed to Jesus have been distorted and exaggerated; that
the book was written outside of Palestine and after the siege of
Jerusalem; that Luke endeavors to make the different narratives agree,
changing them for that purpose; that he softens the passages which had
become embarrassing; that he exaggerated the marvelous, omitted errors in
chronology; that he was a compiler, a man who had not been an eye-witness
himself, and who had not seen eye-witnesses, but who labors at texts and
wrests their sense to make them agree." This certainly is very far from
inspiration. So "Luke interprets the documents according to his own idea;
being a kind of anarchist, opposed to property, and persuaded that the
triumph of the poor was approaching; that he was especially fond of the
anecdotes showing the conversion of sinners, the exaltation of the humble,
and that he modified ancient traditions to give them this meaning."</p>
<p>Renan reached the conclusion that the gospels are neither biographies
after the manner of Suetonius nor fictitious legends in the style of
Philostratus, but that they are legendary biographies like the legends of
the saints, the lives of Plotinus and Isidore, in which historical truth
and the desire to present models of virtue are combined in various
degrees; that they are "inexact" that they "contain numerous errors and
discordances." So he takes the ground that twenty or thirty years after
Christ, his reputation had greatly increased, that "legends had begun to
gather about Him like clouds," that "death added to His perfection,
freeing Him from all defects in the eyes of those who had loved Him, that
His followers wrested the prophecies so that they might fit Him. They
said, 'He is the Messiah.' The Messiah was to do certain things; therefore
Jesus did certain things. Then an account would be given of the doing."
All of which of course shows that there can be maintained no theory of
inspiration.</p>
<p>It is admitted that where individuals are witnesses of the same
transaction, and where they agree upon the vital points and disagree upon
details, the disagreement may be consistent with their honesty, as tending
to show that they have not agreed upon a story; but if the witnesses are
inspired of God then there is no reason for their disagreeing on anything,
and if they do disagree it is a demonstration that they were not inspired,
but it is not a demonstration that they are not honest. While perfect
agreement may be evidence of rehearsal, a failure to perfectly agree is
not a demonstration of the truth or falsity of a story; but if the
witnesses claim to be inspired, the slightest disagreement is a
demonstration that they were not inspired.</p>
<p>Renan reaches the conclusion, proving every step that he takes, that the
four principal documents—that is to say, the four gospels—are
in "flagrant contradiction one with another." He attacks, and with perfect
success, the miracles of the Scriptures, and upon this subject says:
"Observation, which has never once been falsified, teaches us that
miracles never happen, but in times and countries in which they are
believed and before persons disposed to believe them. No miracle ever
occurred in the presence of men capable of testing its miraculous
character." He further takes the ground that no contemporary miracle will
bear inquiry, and that consequently it is probable that the miracles of
antiquity which have been performed in popular gatherings would be shown
to be simple illusion, were it possible to criticise them in detail. In
the name of universal experience he banishes miracles from history. These
were brave things to do, things that will bear good fruit. As long as men
believe in miracles, past or present they remain the prey of superstition.
The Catholic is taught that miracles were performed anciently not only,
but that they are still being performed. This is consistent inconsistency.
Protestants teach a double doctrine: That miracles used to be performed,
that the laws of nature used to be violated, but that no miracle is
performed now. No Protestant will admit that any miracle was performed by
the Catholic Church. Otherwise, Protestants could not be justified in
leaving a church with whom the God of miracles dwelt. So every Protestant
has to adopt two kinds of reasoning: that the laws of Nature used to be
violated and that miracles used to be performed, but that since the
apostolic age Nature has had her way and the Lord has allowed facts to
exist and to hold the field. A supernatural account, according to Renan,
"always implies credulity or imposture,"—probably both.</p>
<p>It does not seem possible to me that Christ claimed for himself what the
Testament claims for him. These claims were made by admirers, by
followers, by missionaries.</p>
<p>When the early Christians went to Rome they found plenty of demigods. It
was hard to set aside the religion of a demigod by telling the story of a
man from Nazareth. These missionaries, not to be outdone in ancestry,
insisted—and this was after the Gospel "according to St. John" had
been written—that Christ was the Son of God. Matthew believed that
he was the son of David, and the Messiah, and gave the genealogy of
Joseph, his father, to support that claim.</p>
<p>In the time of Christ no one imagined that he was of divine origin. This
was an after-growth. In order to place themselves on an equality with
Pagans they started the claim of divinity, and also took the second step
requisite in that country: First, a god for his father, and second, a
virgin for his mother. This was the Pagan combination of greatness, and
the Christians added to this that Christ was God.</p>
<p>It is hard to agree with the conclusion reached by Renan, that Christ
formed and intended to form a church. Such evidence, it seems to me, is
hard to find in the Testament. Christ seemed to satisfy himself, according
to the Testament, with a few statements, some of them exceedingly wise and
tender, some utterly impracticable and some intolerant.</p>
<p>If we accept the conclusions reached by Renan we will throw away, the
legends without foundation; the miraculous legends; and everything
inconsistent with what we know of Nature. Very little will be left—a
few sayings to be found among those attributed to Confucius, to Buddha, to
Krishna, to Epictetus, to Zeno, and to many others. Some of these sayings
are full of wisdom, full of kindness, and others rush to such extremes
that they touch the borders of insanity. When struck on one cheek to turn
the other, is really joining a conspiracy to secure the triumph of
brutality. To agree not to resist evil is to become an accomplice of all
injustice. We must not take from industry, from patriotism, from virtue,
the right of self-defence.</p>
<p>Undoubtedly Renan gave an honest transcript of his mind, the road his
thought had followed, the reasons in their order that had occurred to him,
the criticisms born of thought, and the qualifications, softening phrases,
children of old sentiments and emotions that had not entirely passed away.
He started, one might say, from the altar and, during a considerable part
of the journey, carried the incense with him. The farther he got away, the
greater was his clearness of vision and the more thoroughly he was
convinced that Christ was merely a man, an idealist. But, remembering the
altar, he excused exaggeration in the "inspired" books, not because it was
from heaven, not because it was in harmony with our ideas of veracity, but
because the writers of the gospel were imbued with the Oriental spirit of
exaggeration, a spirit perfectly understood by the people who first read
the gospels, because the readers knew the habits of the writers.</p>
<p>It had been contended for many years that no one could pass judgment on
the veracity of the Scriptures who did not understand Hebrew. This
position was perfectly absurd. No man needs to be a student of Hebrew to
know that the shadow on the dial did not go back several degrees to
convince a petty king that a boil was not to be fatal. Renan, however,
filled the requirement. He was an excellent Hebrew scholar. This was a
fortunate circumstance, because it answered a very old objection.</p>
<p>The founder of Christianity was, for his own sake, taken from the divine
pedestal and allowed to stand like other men on the earth, to be judged by
what he said and did, by his theories, by his philosophy, by his spirit.</p>
<p>No matter whether Renan came to a correct conclusion or not, his work did
a vast deal of good. He convinced many that implicit reliance could not be
placed upon the gospels, that the gospels themselves are of unequal worth;
that they were deformed by ignorance and falsehood, or, at least, by
mistake; that if they wished to save the reputation of Christ they must
not rely wholly on the gospels, or on what is found in the New Testament,
but they must go farther and examine all legends touching him. Not only
so, but they must throw away the miraculous, the impossible and the
absurd.</p>
<p>He also has shown that the early followers of Christ endeavored to add to
the reputation of their Master by attributing to him the miraculous and
the foolish; that while these stories added to his reputation at that
time, since the world has advanced they must be cast aside or the
reputation of the Master must suffer.</p>
<p>It will not do now to say that Christ himself pretended to do miracles.
This would establish the fact at least that he was mistaken. But we are
compelled to say that his disciples insisted that he was a worker of
miracles. This shows, either that they were mistaken or untruthful.</p>
<p>We all know that a sleight-of-hand performer could gain a greater
reputation among savages than Darwin or Humboldt; and we know that the
world in the time of Christ was filled with barbarians, with people who
demanded the miraculous, who expected it; with people, in fact, who had a
stronger belief in the supernatural than in the natural; people who never
thought it worth while to record facts. The hero of such people, the
Christ of such people, with his miracles, cannot be the Christ of the
thoughtful and scientific.</p>
<p>Renan was a man of most excellent temper; candid; not striving for
victory, but for truth; conquering, as far as he could, the old
superstitions; not entirely free, it may be, but believing himself to be
so. He did great good. He has helped to destroy the fictions of faith. He
has helped to rescue man from the prison of superstition, and this is the
greatest benefit that man can bestow on man.</p>
<p>He did another great service, not only to Jews, but to Christendom, by
writing the history of "The People of Israel." Christians for many
centuries have persecuted the Jews. They have charged them with the
greatest conceivable crime—with having crucified an infinite God.
This absurdity has hardened the hearts of men and poisoned the minds of
children. The persecution of the Jews is the meanest, the most senseless
and cruel page in history. Every civilized Christian should feel on his
cheeks the red spots of shame as he reads the wretched and infamous story.</p>
<p>The flame of this prejudice is fanned and fed in the Sunday schools of our
day, and the orthodox minister points proudly to the atrocities
perpetrated against the Jews by the barbarians of Russia as evidences of
the truth of the inspired Scriptures. In every wound God puts a tongue to
proclaim the truth of his book.</p>
<p>If the charge that the Jews killed God were true, it is hardly reasonable
to hold those who are now living responsible for what their ancestors did
nearly nineteen centuries ago.</p>
<p>But there is another point in connection with this matter: If Christ was
God, then the Jews could not have killed him without his consent; and,
according to the orthodox creed, if he had not been sacrificed, the whole
world would have suffered eternal pain. Nothing can exceed the meanness of
the prejudice of Christians against the Jewish people. They should not be
held responsible for their savage ancestors, or for their belief that
Jehovah was an intelligent and merciful God, superior to all other gods.
Even Christians do not wish to be held responsible for the Inquisition,
for the Torquemadas and the John Calvins, for the witch-burners and the
Quaker-whippers, for the slave-traders and child-stealers, the most of
whom were believers in our "glorious gospel," and many of whom had been
bom the second time.</p>
<p>Renan did much to civilize the Christians by telling the truth in a
charming and convincing way about the "People of Israel." Both sides are
greatly indebted to him: one he has ably defended, and the other greatly
enlightened.</p>
<p>Having done what good he could in giving what he believed was light to his
fellow-men, he had no fear of becoming a victim of God's wrath, and so he
laughingly said: "For my part I imagine that if the Eternal in his
severity were to send me to hell I should succeed in escaping from it. I
would send up to my Creator a supplication that would make him smile. The
course of reasoning by which I would prove to him that it was through his
fault that I was damned would be so subtle that he would find some
difficulty in replying. The fate which would suit me best is Purgatory—a
charming place, where many delightful romances begun on earth must be
continued."</p>
<p>Such cheerfulness, such good philosophy, with cap and bells, such banter
and blasphemy, such sound and solid sense drive to madness the priest who
thinks the curse of Rome can fright the world. How the snake of
superstition writhes when he finds that his fangs have lost their poison.</p>
<p>He was one of the gentlest of men—one of the fairest in discussion,
dissenting from the views of others with modesty, presenting his own with
clearness and candor. His mental manners were excellent. He was not
positive as to the "unknowable." He said "Perhaps." He knew that knowledge
is good if it increases the happiness of man; and he felt that
superstition is the assassin of liberty and civilization. He lived a life
of cheerfulness, of industry, devoted to the welfare of mankind.</p>
<p>He was a seeker of happiness by the highway of the natural, a destroyer of
the dogmas of mental deformity, a worshiper of Liberty and the Ideal. As
he lived, he died—hopeful and serene—and now, standing in
imagination by his grave, we ask: Will the night be eternal? The brain
says, Perhaps; while the heart hopes for the Dawn.—North American
Review, November, 1892.</p>
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