The German man of letters Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1721–1789) was a journalist, essayist, playwright, and poet. Like Voltaire, he was a determined advocate of religious toleration, a theme that he returned to time and again in his writing. Lessing and Voltaire, however, differed in important ways in their approach to the subject. While Voltaire emphasized the link between rationality and toleration, Lessing’s case for toleration centered on uncertainty. In his view, human reason was incapable of producing conclusive answers to questions about the nature of God. Lacking such answers, it was impossible to determine which, if any, of the world’s religions was a true reflection of God’s will. Lessing captured his position in Nathan the Wise, a play whose title character was modeled on his good friend Moses Mendelssohn. In this excerpt, Nathan, a Jewish merchant, is asked by the sultan Saladin to tell him which is the true religion: Islam, Christianity, or Judaism. Nathan responds with a parable. As you read, consider what light the play sheds on Lessing’s attitude toward religion and its role in society.

NATHAN:

In days of yore a man lived in the East,

Who owned a ring of marvellous worth,

Given to him by a hand beloved.

The stone was opal, and shed a hundred lovely rays,

But chiefly it possessed the secret power

To make the owner loved of God and man,

If he but wore it in this faith and confidence;

What wonder then that this man in the East

Ne’er from his finger took the ring,

And so arranged it should forever with his house remain,

Namely, thus: He bequeathed it to

The most belovèd of his sons,

Firmly prescribing that he in turn

Should leave it to the dearest of his sons;

And always thus the dearest, without respect to birth,

Became the head and chieftain of the house

By virtue of the ring alone.

You understand me, Sultan?

SALADIN:

I understand. Proceed.

NATHAN:

The ring, descending thus from son to son,

Came to the father of three sons at last,

All three of whom obeyed him equally,

And all of whom he therefore loved alike.

From time to time indeed, now one seemed worthiest of the ring,

And now another, now the third,

Just as it happened one or other with him were alone,

And his o’erflowing heart was not divided with the other two;

And so to each one of the three he gave

The promise—in pious weakness done—

He should possess the wondrous ring.

This then went on long as it could;

But then at last it came to dying,

Which brings the father into sore perplexity.

It pains him much to practise such deceit

Upon two sons who rested so upon his word.

What can be done? In secret

He seeks out a skilful artist,

And from him orders yet two other rings,

Just to the pattern of his own,

And urges him to spare neither pains nor gold,

To make a perfect match.

The artist so succeeded in his task,

That, when he brought the jewels home,

The father even failed to tell which was the pattern ring.

Now, glad and joyous, he calls his sons—

But separately of course—gives each

A special blessing with his ring, and dies.

You hear me, Sultan?

SALADIN:

(Who, somewhat moved, turns from him)

I hear, I hear;

But pray get ended with your tale.

You soon will be?

NATHAN:

I’m at the end,

For what still follows is self-understood.

Searce was the father dead.

When each one with his ring appears

Claiming each the headship of the house.

Inspections, quarrelling, and complaints ensue;

But all in vain, the veritable ring

Was not distinguishable—

(After a pause, during which he expects the Sultan’s answer)

Almost as indistinguishable as to us,

Is now—the true religion.

SALADIN:

What? Is that meant as answer to my question?

NATHAN:

’Tis meant but to excuse myself, because

I lack the boldness to discriminate between the rings,

Which the father by express intent had made

So that they might not be distinguished.

SALADIN:

The rings! Don’t play with me.

I thought the faiths which I have named

Were easily distinguishable,

Even to their raiment, even to meat and drink.

NATHAN:

But yet not as regards their proofs:

For do not all rest upon history, written or traditional?

And history can also be accepted

Only on faith and trust. Is it not so?

Now, whose faith and confidence do we least misdoubt?

That of our relatives? Of those whose flesh and blood we are,

Of those who from our childhood

Have lavished on us proofs of love,

Who ne’er deceived us, unless ’twere wholesome for us so?

How can I place less faith in my forefathers

Than you in yours? or the reverse?

Can I desire of you to load your ancestors with lies,

So that you contradict not mine? Or the reverse?

And to the Christian the same applies.

Is that not so?

SALADIN:

[By the living God, the man is right. I must be dumb.]

NATHAN:

Let us return unto our rings.

As said, the sons accused each other,

And each one swore before the judge

He had received his ring directly

From his father’s hand—which was quite true—

And that, indeed, after having long his promise held,

To enjoy eventually the ring’s prerogative,

Which was no less the truth.

Each one insisted that it was impossible

His father could play false with him,

And ere he could suspect so dear and true a father,

He was compelled, howe’er inclined to think

The best of them, to accuse his brothers

Of this treacherous act, to unmask the traitors,

And avenge himself.

SALADIN:

Well, and the judge?

I’m curious to hear what you will give

The judge to say. Go on.

NATHAN:

The judge said this: Produce your father here

At once, or I’ll dismiss you from this court.

Think you I’m here but to solve riddles?

Or would you wait till the true ring itself will speak?

But stop; I’ve just been told that the right ring,

Contains the wondrous gift to make its wearer loved,

Agreeable alike to God and man.

That must decide, for the false rings will not have this power.

Now which one do the other two love most?

Come, speak out; you’re silent?

Do the rings work only backwards and not outwardly?

Does each one love himself the best?

Then you’re all three deceived deceivers;

None of your rings are genuine.

The genuine ring is no doubt lost.

To hide the loss and to supply its place

The father ordered other three.

SALADIN:

Splendid, splendid!

NATHAN:

The judge went further on to say:

If you will have my judgment, not my advice,

Then go. But my advice is this:

You take the matter as it stands.

If each one had his ring straight from his father,

So let each believe his ring the true one.

’Tis possible your father would no longer tolerate

The tyranny of this one ring in his family,

And surely loved you all—and all alike,

And that he would not two oppress

By favouring the third.

Now then, let each one emulate in affection

Untouched by prejudice. Let each one strive

To gain the prize of proving by results

The virtue of his ring, and aid its power

With gentleness and heartiest friendliness,

With benevolence and true devotedness to God;

And if the virtue of the ring will then

Have proved itself among your children’s children,

I summon them to appear again

Before this judgment seat,

After a thousand thousand years.

Here then will sit a judge more wise than I,

Who will pronounce. Go you.

So said the modest judge.

SALADIN:

God, oh God!

NATHAN:

Saladin, if now you feel yourself to be

That promised sage—

SALADIN:

(Who rushes to him and seizes his hand, which to the end he does not let go)

I dust? I nothing? Oh God!

NATHAN:

What ails thee, Sultan?

SALADIN:

Nathan, dear Nathan, your judge’s thousand

Thousand years have not yet fled,

His judgment seat’s not become mine.

Go, go; but be my friend.

Source: Crane Brinton, ed., The Portable Age of Reason Reader (New York: Viking Press, 1956), pp. 383–389.

QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER