No. II.

It is a pity, I think, that Mr Virtue cannot discuss a question of this kind, without suggesting inferences, and applying epithets, meant to be offensive to particular persons. I shall carefully avoid following such a course myself, and I would advise anyone having anything to say on the subject, to do the same. We page 5 are all groping, very much in the dark I confess, to discover a path leading to the truth, and there is no occasion for us to knock our heads together, as the trackless hush we are in at present is particularly wide. Besides, an "outsider" if his language is calm, and spoken from conviction, has just as much right to be heard as any one else. Who, I may also ask, are "outsiders," and what are they outside of? Every little Bethel has an idea that the countless millions of Gods creatures who do not and cannot, hear the tinkling of its trumpery, twopenny, and tinpot bell, are lost "outsiders." Christ, in his day, encountered many whom the "good people" of those times considered "outsiders." We are told that he treated them with all gentleness. He was himself considered a very degraded "outsider" by the Pharisees. And it was for these same Pharisees that he reserved his strongest condemnations.

I resume the remarks so abruptly broken off, in your issue of Friday. The demand for the admission of the Bible into the public schools is the subject before us, and I have said that not one man in one thousand would desire to exclude such a Book, provided always that it can be found, written; that there can be no question as to its authenticity and genuineness; that the laity and children, as well as theologians, (if the latter can do so) can understand and interpret its meaning, and that, as a text-book it is calculated to advance, edify instruct and improve the young, as assuredly would be the case, if its claims to be regarded as a message and revelation from God to man, are true claims a together, or even in part.

Now, with regard to the first point, I find there are two books, both called the Bible, and loth claiming to be the authentic Book that we are in search of. Perhaps they are the same, or very similar books? No; they are not the same; they are hardly very like each other; and when examined, there is a great divergence between them. The question as to which of them—if either—is an authentic copy, of an authentic original, is a question of evidence. Let us waive all that for the page 6 present, and take one of them—say the Bible we find most universally diflused—and examine it ever so cursorily.

Well, then, what is this Book we call the Bible? Is it to be regarded, altogether as an inspired volume, or uninspired; or is it partly inspired and partly uninspired? If the latter, who is able to speak with authority as to where the inspiration begins and ends; and is there a verdict agreed to on the subject amongst the denominations. Is its meaning clear and plain; or if dubious, can the doubts be authoritatively removed? Is its language literal or figurative, or both; and, if the latter, who is to say where the one ends and the other begins? Is it matter of fact prose, or fanciful poetry, or both, and, if the latter, does it tell us—or can any one with authority tell us—where the fact, and where the fancy, are recorded? Is any one able to say—"this portion is stern reality; but that part is poetic imagery; this is the record of an allfaithful reporter, but here poetic license has play?" These are matters, not of opinion, but of evidence. Again, as to the translation. Is the translation invariably reliable, or partly reliable, and partly unreliable; or is it true that some of the most momentous passages in the Book and many of the most momentous words in the Book, are mistranslations—acknowledged errors? Will its chronology; its record of facts, and such matters of science as it refers to, bear investigation? It has been said—been said, too, by theologians—even by bishops—that on these points grotesque blunders can be indicated—is this true or untrue? All these points can be settled, only by evidence. A man,—a homo—brings me a printed book, and calls it the Bible. I claim to treat the man, and the book, just as I treat any other man and book, and to investigate the claims made by either, for this particular book, precisely in the same way. I desire to treat the man with every respect, and I am even willing and anxious to believe that the book he brings is the real Book it professes to be. But, certainly, if it is the page 7 Book, it will bear examination. We open the volume. Here are marginal notes, without end, trying to explain the meaning of the book, and giving various readings for the same passages. We pursue our inquiry further, and we find commentaries, big as merchants ledgers, trying to explain the book, and trying to account for inconsistences in it; trying to explain away some of its manifest contradictions; trying to smooth over acts and words, said to be Divine, but looking strangely human; trying to excuse cruelty; to excuse an alleged divine sanction of human slavery, and in one instance to palliate a human slaughter, which can only be correctly described as human butchery. Do all these many commentators agree in their explanations and commentaries? No indeed, they do not agree. How could they? They are mere men, and their commentaries are mere opinions. They differ widely and irreconcilably. I have myself seen a cart-load of commentaries on the Bible, and yet there are not sufficient. A revised revision of the Bible is now going on, which fact in itself is a remarkable commentary on the commentaries of the last century, and the present one.

But, strangest of all, we find words introduced into the text, which learned theologians declare, in 1878, should never have been there at all, after having been printed, for hundreds of years. Amongst these—most wonderful to relate!—are the very words of most solemn and momentous import in the whole record. The words "eternal," "everlasting," "damnation," "hell," "resurrection," and others, which I may refer to by-and-bye, are examples. Just look at this word "resurrection"—it is a word conveying the most beautiful idea; and in certain moments of our lives it was a word we would not have parted with, for all the rewards of "infinite value" that could be offered to us. For there are times when even the worst of us is able to put this miserable "myself" and "my soul" away from us for awhile, and to think, not of ourselves or our own happiness, but of the happiness of our kindred. page 8 Perhaps we experience this feeling most when we stand around the grave listening to the thud of earth upon the coffin, and deeply impressed with the grand church burial service. For myself, I have in distant days, derived a consolation I could not express, from some of the passages in which the word, or the idea "resurrection" occurs. There was, at all events, hope for our kindred; hope for our friend lying there dead. I may especially mention the verse from the Book of Job:—"I know that ray Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand, in the latter day, upon the earth; and though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God, when I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another." These words have removed the gnawing from many a heart, at the deathbed side, and in the churchyard, and have been a balm to that intense grief which most of us have felt, at one time or another, in our lives. I hear them now, and they seem to mock me. There is no hope in them. The beautiful passage is simply made beautiful by the translator. I say so on the authority of Froude, the most competent authority now living. The original, when faithfully rendered, is vague, meaningless, and unintelligible. The words "resurrection," as applied to the body after death, of "everlasting damnation" as applied to the soul; of "eternal," as applied to a future life; of "hell" as a place of eternal punishment, are no where to be found in the original text. In short, if we look through this text, faithfully rendered by competent scholars, and not theologians, we hardly get the faintest glimmer of a hope of immortality at all, try we ever so strenuously, to find such a hope. And yet all is not utter darkness! Although we have no Bible which we can introduce into the schoolroom with unerring confidence, we are not left altogether as children without a father, to grope and grovel as we will, in the wildernesses of the world. Although we fail to discover real Christianity at all, and least of all amongst its most self-assertive professors, we can always discern Christ, and discover, under all page 9 circumstances, the rule of rectitude, in the sermon on the Mount. Although the written word is still for us a mystery, the Book of Nature—Gods firmament, the everlasting hills, and valleys; the foliage of a fern; the billows of the ocean—lie before us.