The human spirit urged a new, mightier protest against the "It is written," which was said to put an end to all doubt. The new doubt, as free inquiry, as protestant science, flung down the gauntlet to the bible faith. No page of the sacred book remained untouched. Only one certainty sprang from this new doubt--the certainty that the sacred book was a human book. Therefore it had no right to rule over man. Man was its judge; it was not man's judge. It must be measured by man's truth, man's conscience. How, now, should the timorous heart of man be quieted in the presence of this new doubt? At once new props were offered him--truth and the state. What science recognized as "true," what morals and _bourgeoise_ customs and civil law sanctioned as "good"--these were now proffered man, that he might brace up his tottering life thereby. "Trust the light of science, and you shall indeed have the light of life; do what is 'good,' and you shall be crowned with the crown of life." This was the watchword. Then there stirred in the womb of present-day humanity the last, ultimate, uncanniest doubt. If we doubt the Church, why not doubt the state, too? If we doubt faith, why not doubt science, too? If we doubt the bible, why not doubt reason, doubt knowledge, doubt morality? Even if what we call "true" be really true, can it make us happy? Can the men who have all the knowledge of our time at their disposal, can the scholars, can the cultivated, really become fit leaders of humanity through life's little day? Is not that which is called "good" grievous impediment in our pilgrimage? Law, morals--are not these perhaps a blunder of history, an old hereditary woe with which humanity is weighted down?