He was even crude enough to beget a son for human sacrifice, giving that son power to condemn thereafter those who should not detect his godship through his human envelope! That was a rather subtler bit of baseness than those he first perpetrated--to send this saving son in such guise that the majority of his creatures would inevitably reject him! Oh! he was bound to have his failures and his tortures, wasn't he?
You know, I dare say the ancient Christians called him good because they were afraid to call him bad.

Doubtless the one great spiritual advance that we have made since the Christian faith prevailed is, that we now worship without fearing what we worship." Once more the distressed old man had risen to stand with assumed carelessness by the door, having writhed miserably in his chair until he could no longer endure the profane flood.
"But, truly, that god was, after all, a pathetic figure.

Imagine him amid the ruins of his plan, desolate, always foiled by his creatures--meeting failure after failure from Eden to Calvary--for even the bloody expedient of sending his son to be sacrificed did not avail to save his own chosen people.

They unanimously rejected the son, if I remember, and so he had to be content with a handful of the despised Gentiles.

A sorrowful old figure of futility he is--a fine figure for a big epic, it seems to me.