220. The Church and War

It does seem as though the most zealous Christian must at times entertain some doubt as to the divine origin of his religion. For eighteen hundred years the doctrine has been preached. For more than a thousand years the Church had, to a great extent, the control of the civilized world, and what has been the result? Are the Christian nations patterns of charity and forbearance? On the contrary, their princ.i.p.al business is to destroy each other. More than five millions of Christians are trained, educated, and drilled to murder their fellow-christians.

Every nation is groaning under a vast debt incurred in carrying on war against other Christians.

221. The Call to Preach

An old deacon, wishing to get rid of an unpopular preacher, advised him to give up the ministry and turn his attention to something else. The preacher replied that he could not conscientiously desert the pulpit, as he had had a "call" to the ministry. To which the deacon replied, "That may be so, but it's very unfortunate for you, that when G.o.d called you to preach, he forgot to call anybody to hear you."

222. Burning Servetus

The maker of the Presbyterian creed caused the fugitive Servetus to be arrested for blasphemy. He was tried. Calvin was his accuser. He was convicted and condemned to death by fire. On the morning of the fatal day, Calvin saw him, and Servetus, the victim, asked forgiveness of Calvin, the murderer. Servetus was bound to the stake, and the f.a.ggots were lighted. The wind carried the flames somewhat away from his body, so that he slowly roasted for hours. Vainly he implored a speedy death.

At last the flames climbed round his form; through smoke and fire his murderers saw a white, heroic face. And there they watched until a man became a charred and shriveled ma.s.s. Liberty was banished from Geneva, and nothing but Presbyterianism was left.

223. Freedom for the Clergy

One of the first things I wish to do is to free the orthodox clergy. I am a great friend of theirs, and in spite of all they may say against me, I am going to do them a great and lasting service. Upon their necks are visible the marks of the collar, and upon their backs those of the lash. They are not allowed to read and think for themselves. They are taught like parrots, and the best are those who repeat, with the fewest mistakes, the sentences they have been taught. They sit like owls upon some dead limb of the tree of knowledge, and hoot the same old hoots that have been hooted for eighteen hundred years.

224. The Pulpit Weakening

There was a time when a falsehood, fulminated from the pulpit, smote like a sword; but, the supply having greatly exceeded the demand, clerical misrepresentation has at last become almost an innocent amus.e.m.e.nt. Remembering that only a few years ago men, women, and even children, were imprisoned, tortured and burned, for having expressed in an exceedingly mild and gentle way, the ideas entertained by me, I congratulate myself that calumny is now the pulpit's last resort.

225. Origin of the Priesthood

This was the origin of the priesthood. The priest pretended to stand between the wrath of the G.o.ds and the helplessness of man. He was man's attorney at the court of heaven. He carried to the invisible world a flag of truce, a protest and a request. He came back with a command, with authority and with power. Man fell upon his knees before his own servant, and the priest, taking advantage of the awe inspired by his supposed influence with the G.o.ds, made of his fellow-man a cringing hypocrite and slave.

226. The Clergy on Heaven

The clergy, however, balance all the real ills of this life with the expected joys of the next. We are a.s.sured that all is perfection in heaven--there the skies are cloudless--there all is serenity and peace.

Here empires may be overthrown; dynasties may be extinguished in blood; millions of slaves may toil 'neath the fierce rays of the sun, and the cruel strokes of the lash; yet all is happiness in heaven. Pestilences may strew the earth with corpses of the loved; the survivors may bend above them in agony--yet the placid bosom of heaven is unruffled.

Children may expire vainly asking for bread; babes may be devoured by serpents, while the G.o.ds sit smiling in the clouds.

227. The Parson, the Crane and the Fish

A devout clergyman sought every opportunity to impress upon the mind of his son the fact, that G.o.d takes care of all his creatures; that the falling sparrow attracts his attention, and that his loving-kindness is over all his works. Happening, one day, to see a crane wading in quest of food, the good man pointed out to his son the perfect adaptation of the crane to get his living in that manner. "See," said he, "how his legs are formed for wading! What a long slender bill he has! Observe how nicely he folds his feet when putting them in or drawing them out of the water! He does not cause the slightest ripple. He is thus enabled to approach the fish without giving them any notice of his arrival.

My son," said he, "it is impossible to look at that bird without recognizing the design, as well as the goodness of G.o.d, in thus providing the means of subsistence." "Yes," replied the boy, "I think I see the goodness of G.o.d, at least so far as the crane is concerned; but, after all, father, don't you think the arrangement a little tough on the fish?"

228. Banish Me from Eden--But!

Give me the storm of tempest and action, rather than the dead calm of ignorance and faith. Banish me from Eden when you will; but first let me eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge!

229. The Pulpit's Cry of Fear

From every pulpit comes the same cry, born of the same fear: "Lest they eat and become as G.o.ds, knowing good and evil." For this reason, religion hates science, faith detests reason, theology is the sworn enemy of philosophy, and the church with its flaming sword still guards the hated tree, and like its supposed founder, curses to the lowest depths the brave thinkers who eat and become as G.o.ds.

230. Restive Clergymen

Some of the clergy have the independence to break away, and the intellect to maintain themselves as free men, but the most are compelled to submit to the dictation of the orthodox, and the dead. They are not employed to give their thoughts, but simply to repeat the ideas of others. They are not expected to give even the doubts that may suggest themselves, but are required to walk in the narrow, verdureless path trodden by the ignorance of the past. The forests and fields on either side are nothing to them.

231. The Parson Factory at Andover

They have in Ma.s.sachusetts, at a place called Andover, a kind of minister-factory; and every professor in that factory takes an oath once in every five years--that is as long as an oath will last--that not only has he not during the last five years, but so help him G.o.d, he will not during the next five years intellectually advance; and probably there is no oath he could easier keep. Since the foundation of that inst.i.tution there has not been one case of perjury. They believe the same creed they first taught when the foundation stone was laid, and now when they send out a minister they brand him as hardware from Sheffield and Birmingham.

And every man who knows where he was educated knows his creed, knows every argument of his creed, every book that he reads, and just what he amounts to intellectually, and knows he will shrink and shrivel.

232. A Charge to Presbyteries

Go on, presbyteries and synods, go on! Thrust the heretics out of the Church--that is to say, throw away your brains,--put out your eyes. The infidels will thank you. They are willing to adopt your exiles. Every deserter from your camp is a recruit for the army of progress. Cling to the ignorant dogmas of the past; read the 109th Psalm; gloat over the slaughter of mothers and babes; thank G.o.d for total depravity; shower your honors upon hypocrites, and silence every minister who is touched with that heresy called genius. Be true to your history. Turn out the astronomers, the geologists, the naturalists, the chemists, and all the honest scientists. With a whip of scorpions, drive them all out. We want them all.