in what Christians regard as
"blasphemy." Like nine out of ten unbelievers, he very likely gave vent
to pleasantries on the subject of Christian dogmas. There is nothing
incredible in his having said that "Moses was but a juggler," that
"the New Testament is filthily written" (Mr. Swinburne calls it "canine
Greek"), or that "all Protestants are hypocritical asses." But whether
he really did say that the women of Samaria were no better than they
should be, that Jesus's leaning on John's bosom at the last supper was
a questionable action, that Mary's honor was doubtful and Jesus an
illegitimate child--cannot be decided before the Day of Judgment;
though, in any case, we fail to see that such things make "the
blasphemies of Voltaire pale into insignificance."

We candidly admit, however, that a memorial to Marlowe would be
incongruous in Westminster Abbey if Darwin were not buried there; but
after admitting the high-priest of Evolution it seems paltry to shriek
at the admission of other unbelievers. It will not do to blink the fact
of Marlowe's Atheism, as is done by the two gentlemen who took up the
cudgels on his behalf in the _Pall Mall Gazette_. Setting aside the
accusation of that precious informer, there is other evidence of
Marlowe's heresy. Greene reproached him for his scepticism, and every
editor has remarked that his plays are heathenish in spirit. Lamb not
only calls attention to the fact that "Marlowe is said to have been
tainted with Atheistical positions," but remarks that "Barabas the
Jew, and Faustus the Conjurer, are offsprings of a mind which at least
delighted to dally with interdicted subjects. They both talk a language
which a believer would have been tender of putting into the mouth of a
character though but in fiction." Dyce could not "resist the conviction"
that Marlowe's impiety was "confirmed and daring." His extreme
Freethought is also noticed by Mr. Bullen and Mr. Havelock Ellis. There
is, indeed, no room for a rational doubt on this point. Marlowe was an
Atheist. But a sincere Christian, like Robert Browning, is nevertheless
ready to honor Marlowe's genius; quite as ready, in fact, as Algernon
Swinburne, whose impiety is no less "confirmed and daring" than
Marlowe's own. There is freemasonry among poets; their opinions may
differ, but they are all "sealed of the tribe." And surely we may all
admire genius as a natural and priceless distinction, apart from all
considerations of system and creed