Spinoza, who was wise enough to know that it was utterly useless to expect an unfettered examination of philosophical problems by men who are bound to accept as an infallible arbiter any particular book, and who knew that reasonings must be of a very limited character which took the alleged Hebrew Revelation as the centre and starting point for all inquiry, and also as the circling limitation line for all investigation—devoted himself to the task of examining how far the ordinary orthodox doctrines as to the infallibility of the Old Testament were fairly maintainable. It was for this reason he penned his “Tractatus Theologico-Politicus,” wherein he says: “We see that they who are most under the influence of superstitious feelings, and who covet uncertainties without stint or measure, more especially when they fall into difficulty or danger, cannot help themselves, are the persons, who, with vows and prayers and womanly tears, implore the Divine assistance; who call reason blind, and human wisdom vain; and all, forsooth, because they cannot find an assured way to the vanities they desire.” “The mainspring of superstition is fear; by fear too is superstition sustained and nourished.” “Men are chiefly assailed by superstition when suffering from fear, and all they then do in the name of a vain religion is, in fact, but the vaporous product of a sorrowful spirit, the delirium of a mind overpowered by terror.” He proceeds: “I have often wondered that men who boast of the great advantage they enjoy under the Christian dispensation—the peace, the joy they experience, the brotherly love they feel towards all in its exercise—should nevertheless contend with so much acrimony, and show such intolerance and unappeasable hatred towards one another. If faith had to be inferred from action rather than profession, it would indeed be impossible to say to what sect or creed the majority of mankind belong.” He laid down that “No one is bound by natural law to live according to the pleasure of another, but that every one is by natural title the rightful asserter of his own independence,” and that “he or they govern best who concede to every one the privilege of thinking as he pleases, and of saying what he thinks.” Criticising the Hebrew prophets, he points out that “God used no particular style in making his communications; but in the same measure as the prophet possessed learning and ability, his communications were either concise and clear, or on the contrary, they were rude, prolix, and obscure.” The representations of Zechariah, as we learn from the accounts themselves, were so obscure that without an explanation they could not be understood by himself; and those of Daniel were so dark, that even when explained, they were still unintelligible, not to others only, but also to the prophet himself. He argues entirely against miracles, as either contrary to nature or above nature, declaring any such to be “a sheer absurdity,” “merum esse absurdum.” Of the Scriptures themselves he points out that the ancient Hebrew is entirely lost. “Of the authors, or, if you please, writers, of many books, we either know almost nothing, or we entertain grave doubts as to the correctness with which the several books are ascribed to the parties whose names they bear.” “Then we neither know on what occasion, nor at what time those books were indited, the writers of which are unknown to us. Further, we know nothing of the hands into which the books fell; nor of the codices which have furnished such a variety of readings, nor whether, perchance, there were not many other variations in other copies.” Voltaire says of Spinoza: “Not only in the character of a Jew he attacks the New Testament, but in the character of a scholar he ruins the Old.”