of selfish priesthoods; and fifthly, of
the harsh and relentless theories of conforming metaphysicians,
the doctrine of hell, as a located place of manifold terrific
physical tortures drawing in vast majorities of the human race,
became established in the ruling creeds and enthroned as an
orthodox dogma. In some heathen nations the descriptions of the
poets, in others the accounts of the priestly books, were held to
be inspired revelations. To call them in question was blasphemous.
In Christendom the scriptural representations of the subject,
which were general moral adaptations, incidentally made, of
representations already existing, obtained a literal interpretation,
had the stamp of infallibility put on them and immense perverted
additions joined to them. Thus everywhere the dogma became
associated with the established authority. To deny it was heresy.
Heretics were excommunicated, loaded with pains and penalties,
and, for many centuries, often put to death with excruciating
tortures. From that moment the doctrine was taken out of
the province of natural reason, out of the realm of ethical
truth. The absurdities, wrongs, and barbarities deducible from it
were a part and parcel of it, and not to be considered as any
objection to it. No free thought and honest criticism were
allowed. Because taught by authority, it must be submissively
taken for granted. Henceforth we are not to wonder at the
revolting inhumanity of spirit and horribleness of gloating hatred
shown in connection with the doctrine; for it was not the
independent thought and proper moral spirit of individuals, but
the petrified dogma and irresponsible corporate spirit of that
towering hierarchy, the Church.
The Church set forth certain conditional offers of salvation. When
those offers were spurned or neglected, the Church felt personally
insulted and aggrieved. Her servants hurled on the hated heretics
and heathen the denunciations of bigotry and the threats of rage.
Rugged old Tertullian, in whose torrid veins the fire of his
African deserts seems infused, revels with infernal glee over the
contemplation of the sure damnation of the heathen. "At that
greatest of all spectacles, the last and eternal judgment," he
says, "how shall I admire, how laugh, how rejoice, how exult, when
I behold so many proud monarchs groaning in the lowest abyss of
darkness; so many magistrates liquefying in fiercer flames than
they ever kindled against the Christians; so m
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