My dear preachers, I beg you to tell the truth. Tell your congregations that Moses was not the author of the Pentateuch. Tell them that nobody knows who wrote the five books. Tell them that Deuteronomy was not written until about six hundred years before Christ. Tell them that nobody knows who wrote Joshua, or Judges, or Ruth, Samuel, Kings, or Chronicles, Job, or the Psalms, or the Song of Solomon. Be honest, tell the truth. Tell them that nobody knows who wrote Esther--that Ecclesiastes was written long after Christ--that many of the prophecies were written after the events pretended to be foretold had happened. Tell them that Ezekiel and Daniel were insane. Tell them that nobody knows who wrote the gospels, and tell them that no line about Christ written by a contemporary has been found. Tell them it is all guess--and may be, and perhaps. Be honest. Tell the truth, develop your brains, use all your senses and hold high the torch of Reason. In a few years the pulpits will be filled with teachers instead of preachers--with thoughtful, brave, and honest men. The congregations will be civilized--intellectually honest and hospitable. Now, most of the ministers insist that the old falsehoods shall be treated with reverence--that ancient lies with long white beards--wrinkled and bald-headed frauds--round-shouldered and toothless miracles, and palsied mistakes on crutches, shall be called allegories, parables, oriental imagery, inspired poems. In their presence the ungodly should remove their hats. They should respect the mould and moss of antiquity. They should remember that these lies, these frauds, the miracles and mistakes, have for thousands of years ruled, enslaved, and corrupted the human race. These ministers ought to know that their creeds are based on imagined facts and demonstrated by assertion. They ought to know that they have no evidence,--nothing but promises and threats. They ought to know that it is impossible to conceive of force existing without and before matter--that it is equally impossible to conceive of matter without force--that it is impossible to conceive of the creation or destruction of matter or force,--that it is impossible to conceive of infinite intelligence dwelling from eternity in infinite space, and that it is impossible to conceive of the creator, or creation, of substance. The God of the Christian is an enthroned guess--a perhaps--an inference. No man, and no body of men, can answer the questions of the Whence and Whither. The mystery of existence cannot be explained by the intellect of man. Back of life, of existence, we cannot go--beyond death we cannot see. All duties, all obligations, all knowledge, all experience, are for this life, for this world. We know that men and women and children exist. We know that happiness, for the most part, depends on conduct. We are satisfied that all the gods are phantoms and that the supernatural does not exist.