ing to narrate!

Here Paul stands, then, before the subtle Athenians, before the
_graeuli_, men of culture and tolerance, who are ready to welcome and
examine every doctrine, who neither stone nor scourge nor imprison any
man for professing these or those doctrines--here he stands where
liberty of conscience is respected and every opinion is given an
attentive hearing. And he raises his voice in the midst of the Areopagus
and speaks to them as it was fitting to speak to the cultured citizens
of Athens, and all listen to him, agog to hear the latest novelty. But
when he begins to speak to them of the resurrection of the dead their
stock of patience and tolerance comes to an end, and some mock him, and
others say: "We will hear thee again of this matter!" intending not to
hear him. And a similar thing happened to him at Caesarea when he came
before the Roman praetor Felix, likewise a broad-minded and cultured man,
who mitigated the hardships of his imprisonment, and wished to hear and
did hear him discourse of righteousness and of temperance; but when he
spoke of the judgement to come, Felix said, terrified (_emphobos
genomenos_): "Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season
I will call for thee" (Acts xxiv. 22-25). And in his audience before
King Agrippa, when Festus the governor heard him speak of the
resurrection of the dead, he exclaimed: "Thou art mad, Paul; much
learning hath made thee mad" (Acts xxvi. 24).

Whatever of truth there may have been in Paul's discourse in the
Areopagus, and even if there were none, it is certain that this
admirable account plainly shows how far Attic tolerance goes and where
the patience of the intellectuals ends. They all listen to you, calmly
and smilingly, and at times they encourage you, saying: "That's
strange!" or, "He has brains!" or "That's suggestive," or "How fine!" or
"Pity that a thing so beautiful should not be true!" or "this makes one
think!" But as soon as you speak to them of resurrection and life after
death, they lose their patience and cut short your remarks and exclaim,
"Enough of this! we will talk about this another day!" And it is about
this, my poor Athenians, my intolerant intellectuals, it is about this
that I am going to talk to you here.

And even if this belief be absurd, why is its exposition less tolerated
than that of others much more absurd? Why this manifest hostility to
such a belief? Is it fear? Is it, perhaps, spite provoked by inabi