Perhaps, after all, these last are right. They
have numbers and prosperity on their side. They have all which the
rationalist appeals to as his tests of right and wrong. Right, according
to him, is what seems right to the majority of sensible, well-to-do
people; we know of no safer criterion than this, but what does the
decision thus arrived at involve? Simply this, that a conspiracy of
silence about things whose truth would be immediately apparent to
disinterested enquirers is not only tolerable but righteous on the part
of those who profess to be and take money for being _par excellence_
guardians and teachers of truth.
Ernest saw no logical escape from this conclusion. He saw that belief on
the part of the early Christians in the miraculous nature of Christ's
Resurrection was explicable, without any supposition of miracle. The
explanation lay under the eyes of anyone who chose to take a moderate
degree of trouble; it had been put before the world again and again, and
there had been no serious attempt to refute it. How was it that Dean
Alford for example who had made the New Testament his speciality, could
not or would not see what was so obvious to Ernest himself? Could it be
for any other reason than that he did not want to see it, and if so was
he not a traitor to the cause of truth? Yes, but was he not also a
respectable and successful man, and were not the vast majority of
respectable and successful men, such for example, as all the bishops and
archbishops, doing exactly as Dean Alford did, and did not this make
their action right, no matter though it had been cannibalism or
infanticide, or even habitual untruthfulness of mind?
Monstrous, odious falsehood! Ernest's feeble pulse quickened and his
pale face flushed as this hateful view of life presented itself to him in
all its logical consistency.
Pages:
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481