The clergyman’s dark eye flashed, and his brow was knitted.
‘Surely not unchristian,’ he returned.
‘Not merely that, sir, but positively atheistic!’ cried the Bishop, wheeling round in his chair and looking his visitor full in the face.
‘Then I expressed myself miserably. I am not an atheist; God forbid!’
‘But as far as I can gather from your expressions, you absolutely dare to question the sacred character of the Scriptures, and the Divine nature and miraculous life and death of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!’
‘Not at all,’ replied Bradley, quietly.
‘Not at all!’ echoed the Bishop.
‘Permit me to explain. I expressed my humble opinion that there are many things in the Scriptures which are contradicted by modern evidence, so that the sacred writings must be accepted not as history but as poetry; and I said that, although the miraculous narrative of Christ’s life and death might have to be revised, the beautiful Ideal it had set before us was sufficient for all our needs. In other words, whether Our Lord was a Divine personage or not, He had become a Divine Influence—which, after all, is the same thing.’
‘It is not the same thing, sir!’ exclaimed the Bishop, horrified. ‘It is very far from being the same thing. Why, any Unitarian would admit as much as you do!—and pardon me for reminding you, you are not a Unitarian—you are a clergyman of the Church of England. You have subscribed the Articles—you—God bless my soul! what is the world coming to, when a Christian minister uses language worthy of the atheist Bradlaugh?’
‘You remind me that I subscribed the Articles,’ said Bradley, still preserving his calmness. ‘I did so without thought, as so many do, when I was a very young man.’ ‘What are you now, sir? A young man, a very young man; and in the audacious spirit of youth and inexperience you touch on subjects which the wisest minds of the world have been content to approach with reverence, with awe and trembling. I see your position clearly enough. The horrible infidelity which fills the air at the present day has penetrated your mind, and with the pride of intellectual impiety—that very pride for which Satan was cast from heaven—you profane the mysteries of your religion. After what you have said, I am almost prepared to hear you tell me that you actually did write that article on Miracles, which your parishioners impute to you, in the “Bi-monthly Review!”’