And yet we are now told that the French people have rendered themselves incapable of government, simply because they have listened to the voice of progress. There are magnificent men in France. From that country have come to the human race some of the grandest and holiest messages the ear of man has ever heard. The French people have given to history some of the most touching acts of self-sacrifice ever performed beneath the amazed stars.
For my part, I admire the French people. I cannot forget the Rue San Antoine, nor the red cap of liberty. I can never cease to remember that the tricolor was held aloft in Paris, while Europe was in chains, and while liberty, with a bleeding breast, was in the Inquisition of Spain. And yet we are now told by a religious paper, that France is not capable of self-government. I suppose it was capable of self-government under the old régime, at the time of the massacre of St. Bartholomew. I suppose it was capable of self-government when women were seen yoked with cattle pulling plows. I suppose it was capable of self-government when all who labored were in a condition of slavery.
In the old times, even among the priests, there were some good, some sincere and most excellent men. I have read somewhere of a sermon preached by one of these in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. This old priest, among other things, said that the soul of a beggar was as dear to God as the soul of the richest of his people, and that Jesus Christ died as much for a beggar as for a prince. One French peasant, rough with labor, cried out: "I propose three cheers for Jesus Christ." I like such things. I like to hear of them. I like to repeat them. Paris has been a kind of volcano, and has made the heavens lurid with its lava of hatred, but it has also contributed more than any other city to the intellectual development of man. France has produced some infamous men, among others John Calvin, but for one Calvin, she has produced a thousand benefactors of the human race.
The moment the French people rise above the superstitions of the church, they will be in the highest sense capable of self-government. The moment France succeeds in releasing herself from the coils of Catholicism—from the shadows of superstition—from the foolish forms and mummeries of the church—from the intellectual tyranny of a thousand years—she will not only be capable of self-government, but will govern herself. Let the priests be usefully employed. We want no overseers of the mind; no slave-drivers for the soul. We cannot afford to pay hypocrites for depriving us of liberty. It is a waste of money to pay priests to frighten our children, and paralyze the intellect of women.
WAS THE WORLD CREATED IN SIX DAYS? III.
FOR hundreds of years it was contended by all Christians that the earth was made in six days, literal days of twenty-four hours each, and that on the seventh day the Lord rested from his labor. Geologists have driven the church from this position, and it is now claimed that the days mentioned in the Bible are periods of time. This is a simple evasion, not in any way supported by the Scriptures. The Bible distinctly and clearly says that the world was created in six days. There is not within its lids a clearer statement. It does not say six periods. It was made according to that book in six days:
31. "And God saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day."—Genesis i.
1. "Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them.
2. "And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made.
3. "And God blessed the seventh day (not seventh period), and sanctified it; because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made."—Genesis ii.