J. H. WHITMORE, in the Bible Banner for June, in commenting upon the recent trial of Professor Swing before the Chicago Presbytery, says :
"The phrase first became proverbial as descriptive of the fierce, vindictive, and unappeasable hatred for which many of the Middle age theologians were chiefly known. 'From Julian, who observed that no wild beasts were so ferocious as angry theologians, to Montesquieu, who discussed as a psychological phenomenon the inhumanity of monks, the fact has been constantly recognized,' that to oppose a theologian was to make him your unrelenting enemy.
"But not to the Middle Ages alone does the term apply. When the crucifix stood side by side with the rack in the torture chambers of Europe, when priests were ignorant and credulous and cruel, when theology principally occupied the time and attention of all the leaders of opinion, and dogmatism was supreme, when a belief in the eternity of hell torments generally prevailed, it is but little to be wondered at that theologians were proverbially cruel and hateful. A hateful belief, when sincerely and honestly entertained, makes men act hateful.
"But in the nineteenth century the theologian's surroundings are vastly different from what they were five or six centuries ago. The rack and the stake, the gibbet and the wheel, are no longer employed as priestly persuasives. Heresy is no longer punished as a capital crime. The doctrine of endless misery, though still professed by many, is really believed by but few. Why should theologians be harsh, unjust, and cruel? Obviously they are without the excuses of their brethren of the Middle Ages. They live in an age of refinement and learning.
"Must theology always be the most illiberal learned professions? Must the odium theologicum always be dreaded?
"The recent trial of Professor Swing for heresy, by the Chicago Presbytery, affords the latest proof of the survival of the proverbial hatred of theologians. Dr. Patton, the chief persecutor in this latest case of ecclesiastical intolerance, would have been a bright and shining light had he lived in the days of Torquemada. What a sharp inquisitor he would have made! His scent for heresy is so keen, and his love for Presbyterianism is so strong, that he seems to forget that this is not the 16th century, that Chicago is not Geneva, and that he is not John Calvin.
"But heresy-hunting is not as profitable now as formerly. The spirit of the age condemns it. Protestantism is opposed to it, though a few Protestants still follow the occupation."