The Bible: What It Is! — Story, Setting & Ideas

A Close Reading of Textual Discrepancies

Bradlaugh's method is forensic. He compares translations, notes omissions, and highlights inconsistencies between biblical passages. For instance, in Numbers chapter 18, he points out a confusion: one verse says only the surplus Levites are to be redeemed with money, while another demands five shekels from all. He also observes that in the Douay translation of Numbers 20:6, Moses and Aaron utter words 'entirely omitted in our version,' and that the Lord's reproach for unbelief has no corresponding account in the text. These observations are not mere quibbles; they are central to Bradlaugh's argument that the Bible is a human artifact, not a flawless divine document.

The Problem of Miracles and Divine Law

Bradlaugh devotes considerable space to the concept of miracles, quoting Voltaire at length. Voltaire defines a miracle as 'the violation of these divine and eternal laws' and argues that a wise God would not make laws only to break them. Bradlaugh uses this philosophical framework to question the plausibility of biblical miracles, such as the water from the rock in Numbers 20. He does not deny the possibility of miracles outright but insists that they must be examined critically. The inclusion of Voltaire's extended argument suggests that Bradlaugh sees the Bible's miracle claims as a key weakness in its claim to divine authority.

Selective Application of Biblical Commands

Bradlaugh is acutely aware of how religious authorities pick and choose which biblical commands to follow. He notes that priests have 'paid great attention to the tithe part of the Book' but 'most wonderfully overlooked' the command that they 'shall have no inheritance in their land.' He then asks pointedly: if this command applies only to the Jews, 'on what principle, then, does any part of the Book apply to the Gentiles?' This rhetorical move exposes a double standard in biblical interpretation and challenges the reader to consider the arbitrary nature of religious authority.

Bradlaugh's work is a polemic, but it is also a meticulous textual analysis. Readers should approach it as a historical document of 19th-century freethought, noting its reliance on contemporary biblical scholarship and its use of Hebrew and Greek references. The incomplete scope—covering only the first nine books of the Old Testament—means that Bradlaugh's arguments are focused on the Pentateuch and early historical books. His tone is combative but learned, and his evidence is drawn directly from the text itself.

That rain fell all afternoon while I worked through Bradlaugh’s patient dismantling of the first nine books, his careful Greek and Hebrew pointing at seams I’d never noticed. The moral contradictions he laid bare felt heavy, like wet wool. Later, I set it down, and my hand drifted to something gentler on the same shelf — The Upanishads — Background and Themes. Its quiet questions about inner meaning offered a strange, restful counterweight to all that exposing.