Did Christ or any of his apostles add to the sum of useful knowledge? Did they say one word in favor of any science, of any art? Did they teach their fellow-men how to make a living, how to overcome the obstructions of nature, how to prevent sickness--how to protect themselves from pain, from famine, from misery and rags? Did they explain any of the phenomena of nature? any of the facts that affect the life of man? Did they say anything in favor of investigation--of study--of thought? Did they teach the gospel of self-reliance, of industry--of honest effort? Can any farmer, mechanic, or scientist find in the New Testament one useful fact? Is there anything in the sacred book that can help the geologist, the astronomer, the biologist, the physician, the inventor--the manufacturer of any useful thing? What has the church done? From the very first it taught the vanity--the worthlessness of all earthly things. It taught the wickedness of wealth, the blessedness of poverty. It taught that the business of this life was to prepare for death. It insisted that a certain belief was necessary to insure salvation, and that all who failed to believe, or doubted in the least would suffer eternal pain. According to the church the natural desires, ambitions and passions of man were all wicked and depraved. To love God, to practice self-denial, to overcome desire, to despise wealth, to hate prosperity, to desert wife and children, to live on roots and berries, to repeat prayers, to wear rags, to live in filth, and drive love from the heart--these, for centuries, were the highest and most perfect virtues, and those who practiced them were saints. The saints did not assist their fellow-men. Their fellow-men assisted them. They did not labor for others. They were beggars--parasites--vermin. They were insane. They followed the teachings of Christ. They took no thought for the morrow. They mutilated their bodies--scarred their flesh and destroyed their minds for the sake of happiness in another world. During the journey of life they kept their eyes on the grave. They gathered no flowers by the way--they walked in the dust of the road--avoided the green fields. Their moans made all the music they wished to hear. The babble of brooks, the songs of birds, the laughter of children, were nothing to them. Pleasure was the child of sin, and the happy needed a change of heart. They were sinless and miserable--but they had faith--they were pious and wretched--but they were limping towards heaven. What has the church done? It has denounced pride and luxury--all things that adorn and enrich life--all the pleasures of sense--the ecstasies of love--the happiness of the hearth--the clasp and kiss of wife and child.