It is probable that, if a merchant had in his possession a bill, or promissory note, which some person had examined carefully, and pronounced to be a forgery, he would never think of parading it before his customers as a valid "asset." Yet, as I write the sentence, memory recalls to my mind that traders have done this very thing, and have counted what they ought to have known were bad debts, or fraudulent bills of exchange, amongst their securities for money; and that, when the parties so acting have become bankrupt, their proceedings have been severely punished by the authorities, as being dishonest and fraudulent.
The analogy is an useful one, inasmuch as it enables me to ask the question—"Ought the morality of a 'divine' to be inferior to that practised by a merchant or banker?" Still further, let us inquire whether we should have a high opinion of a trader, who endeavoured to palm off upon us, as a genuine diamond, an article which had been publicly declared to be a bit of "paste," and whether we should be satisfied with his excuse—"I believe everything is a gem that goes by the name of a precious stone."
In the course of this and our preceding volumes we have, as plainly as words could express our meaning, enunciated our conclusions upon certain Biblical difficulties. We have, at least, endeavoured to be honest; we have not misrepresented those with whose opinions we differ, nor have we tried to shirk any question, however difficult it may have been. We claim a corresponding degree of honesty from those who profess to be authorised guides—and certainly are in the position at present of national leaders in religion.
We are not like an unfortunate clerk in "holy orders," who can be silenced by law. We are, on the contrary, a stranger knight who comes to a tourney, and claims the right to combat with the most redoubtable of the champions of their court and kingdom. Still further, we assume the power to write those down as cowards who, upon any pretence whatever, decline to compete in the lists with us.
In the days of chivalry there was not a knight who would not have been regarded as "craven," if he declined a combat because his challenger did not speak or write French correctly, or had a speck of rust on his armour, a dint in his shield, or a hole in his breastplate. Yet, in these degenerate days, we see that poltroons refuse to entertain the arguments of a writer who, from any cause whatever, appears to be inaccurate in Hebrew points, or consonants, or Greek accents, or transliteration. For ourselves, we regard every excuse which is framed to avoid meeting a fairly stated argument as a proof of weakness, and when it is uttered by a professional champion, as an act of cowardice. When such champions are paid by a state to uphold the honour of their country, to avoid a challenge by evasion is dishonesty. There was, however, in knightly days, some established law of chivalry that no champion need fight a "squire" or "varlet;" but, on the other hand, no nobleman could refuse to enter the lists on the plea that his challenger had a different faith to his own. Combats between Christians and Paynim were common. Consequently, we cannot regard a bishop justified in declining a fair challenge, because he is invited to enter the lists by an "Infidel."
Considering myself as an university graduate and an English gentleman, entitled to give a literary challenge, I make no scruple to enter the lists, and invite champions to break a lance with me in favour of their patron saint or lady.
I assert that their tutelary saints—Adam, Abraham, David, Moses, Solomon, and the prophets, are imaginary beings, or, where real, were not as worthy as they are supposed to have been. I defy scholars to prove that the Israelites were ever, as a body, in Egypt; that they were delivered therefrom by Moses; that the people wandered during forty years in "the desert;" received a code of laws from Jehovah on Sinai; and were, in any sense whatever of the words, "the chosen people of God."
I assert that the whole history of the Old Testament is untrue, with the exception of a few parts which tell of unimportant events—e.g., it is probable that the Jews fought with their neighbours, as the Swiss have done in modern days—but I do not believe the tale about Samson any more than that of William Tell.
I assert that there is not a single true prophecy in the whole Bible, which can be proved to have been written before the event to which it is assumed to point, or which is superior, in any way, to the "oracles" delivered in various ancient lands.
I assert that the whole of what, is called the Mosaic law had no existence in the days of David, Solomon, and the early Hebrew chieftains—or kings—if they are thought to deserve the title.