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THE
LIFE
OF
JESUS
BY
ERNEST RENAN
INTRODUCTION BY
JOHN HAYNES HOLMES
[Transcriber's note: Introduction by John Haynes Holmes not included
in this etext due to copyright restrictions.]
MODERN LIBRARY
NEW YORK
INTRODUCTION COPYRIGHT, 1927, BY THE MODERN LIBRARY, INC.
_Random House_ IS THE PUBLISHER OF
THE MODERN LIBRARY
BENNETT A. CERF * DONALD S. KLOPPER * ROBERT K. HAAS
Manufactured in the United States of America
Printed by Parkway Printing Company * Bound by H. Wolff
TO THE PURE SOUL OF
MY SISTER HENRIETTE
_Who Died at Byblus on the 24th of September, 1861_
Dost thou recall, from the bosom of God where thou reposest, those
long days at Ghazir, in which, alone with thee, I wrote these pages,
inspired by the places we had visited together? Silent at my side,
thou didst read and copy each sheet as soon as I had written it,
whilst the sea, the villages, the ravines, and the mountains, were
spread at our feet. When the overwhelming light had given place to the
innumerable army of stars, thy shrewd and subtle questions, thy
discreet doubts, led me back to the sublime object of our common
thoughts. One day thou didst tell me that thou wouldst love this
book--first, because it had been composed with thee, and also because
it pleased thee. Though at times thou didst fear for it the narrow
judgments of the frivolous, yet wert thou ever persuaded that all
truly religious souls would ultimately take pleasure in it. In the
midst of these sweet meditations, the Angel of Death struck us both
with his wing: the sleep of fever seized us at the same time--I awoke
alone!... Thou sleepest now in the land of Adonis, near the holy
Byblus and the sacred stream where the women of the ancient mysteries
came to mingle their tears. Reveal to me, O good genius, to me whom
thou lovedst, those truths which conquer death, deprive it of terror,
and make it almost beloved.
PREFACE
In presenting an English version of the celebrated work of M. Renan,
the translator is aware of the difficulty of adequately rendering a
work so admirable for its style and beauty of composition. It is not
an easy task to reproduce the terseness and eloquence which
characterize the original. Whatever its success in these respects may
be, no pains have been spared to give the author's meaning. The
translation has been revised by highly competent persons; but although
great care has been taken in this respect, it is possible that a few
errors may still have escaped notice.
The great problem of the present age is to preserve the religious
spirit, whilst getting rid of the superstitions and absurdities that
deform it, and which are alike opposed to science and common sense.
The works of Mr. F.W. Newman and of Bishop Colenso, and the "Essays
and Reviews," are rendering great service in this direction. The work
of M. Renan will contribute to this object; and, if its utility may be
measured by the storm which it has created amongst the _obscurantists_
in France, and the heartiness with which they have condemned it, its
merits in this respect must be very great. It needs only to be added,
that whilst warmly sympathizing with the earnest spirit which pervades
the book, the translator by no means wishes to be identified with all
the opinions therein expressed.
_December 8, 1863._
CONTENTS
PAGE
Introduction, by John Haynes Holmes 15
Introduction, in Which the Sources of This History Are Principally
Treated 25
CHAPTER I
Place of Jesus in the History of the World 67
CHAPTER II
Infancy and Youth of Jesus--His First Impressions 81
CHAPTER III
Education of Jesus 89
CHAPTER IV
The Order of Thought Which Surrounded the Development
of Jesus 99
CHAPTER V
The First Saying of Jesus--His Ideas of a Divine Father
and of a Pure Religion--First Disciples 119
CHAPTER VI
John the Baptist--Visit of Jesus to John, and His Abode in
the Desert of Judea--Adoption of the Baptism of John 135
CHAPTER VII
Development of the Ideas of Jesus Respecting the Kingdom
of God 148
CHAPTER VIII
Jesus at Capernaum 160
CHAPTER IX
The Disciples of Jesus 173
CHAPTER X
The Preachings on the Lake 184
CHAPTER XI
The Kingdom of God Conceived as the Inheritance of the
Poor 194
CHAPTER XII
Embassy from John in Prison to Jesus--Death of John--Relations
of His School with That of Jesus 206
CHAPTER XIII
First Attempts on Jerusalem 213
CHAPTER XIV
Intercourse of Jesus with the Pagans and the Samaritans 227
CHAPTER XV
Commencement of the Legends Concerning Jesus--His Own
Idea of His Supernatural Character 235
CHAPTER XVI
Miracles 248
CHAPTER XVII
Definitive Form of the Ideas of Jesus Respecting the Kingdom
of God 259
CHAPTER XVIII
Institutions of Jesus 273
CHAPTER XIX
Increasing Progression of Enthusiasm and of Exaltation 285
CHAPTER XX
Opposition to Jesus 295
CHAPTER XXI
Last Journey of Jesus to Jerusalem 305
CHAPTER XXII
Machinations of the Enemies of Jesus 319
CHAPTER XXIII
Last Week of Jesus 329
CHAPTER XXIV
Arrest and Trial of Jesus 344
CHAPTER XXV
Death of Jesus 360
CHAPTER XXVI
Jesus in the Tomb 370
CHAPTER XXVII
Fate of the Enemies of Jesus 376
CHAPTER XXVIII
Essential Character of the Work of Jesus 381
AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION,
In Which the Sources of This History Are Principally Treated
A history of the "Origin of Christianity" ought to embrace all the
obscure, and, if one might so speak, subterranean periods which extend
from the first beginnings of this religion up to the moment when its
existence became a public fact, notorious and evident to the eyes of
all. Such a history would consist of four books. The first, which I
now present to the public, treats of the particular fact which has
served as the starting-point of the new religion, and is entirely
filled by the sublime person of the Founder. The second would treat of
the apostles and their immediate disciples, or rather, of the
revolutions which religious thought underwent in the first two
generations of Christianity. I would close this about the year 100, at
the time when the last friends of Jesus were dead, and when all the
books of the New Testament were fixed almost in the forms in which we
now read them. The third would exhibit the state of Christianity under
the Antonines. We should see it develop itself slowly, and sustain an
almost permanent war against the empire, which had just reached the
highest degree of administrative perfection, and, governed by
philosophers, combated in the new-born sect a secret and theocratic
society which obstinately denied and incessantly undermined it. This
book would cover the entire period of the second century. Lastly, the
fourth book would show the decisive progress which Christianity made
from the time of the Syrian emperors. We should see the learned
system of the Antonines crumble, the decadence of the ancient
civilization become irrevocable, Christianity profit from its ruin,
Syria conquer the whole West, and Jesus, in company with the gods and
the deified sages of Asia, take possession of a society for which
philosophy and a purely civil government no longer sufficed. It was
then that the religious ideas of the races grouped around the
Mediterranean became profoundly modified; that the Eastern religions
everywhere took precedence; that the Christian Church, having become
very numerous, totally forgot its dreams of a millennium, broke its
last ties with Judaism, and entered completely into the Greek and
Roman world. The contests and the literary labors of the third
century, which were carried on without concealment, would be described
only in their general features. I would relate still more briefly the
persecutions at the commencement of the fourth century, the last
effort of the empire to return to its former principles, which denied
to religious association any place in the State. Lastly, I would only
foreshadow the change of policy which, under Constantine, reversed the
position, and made of the most free and spontaneous religious movement
an official worship, subject to the State, and persecutor in its turn.
I know not whether I shall have sufficient life and strength to
complete a plan so vast. I shall be satisfied if, after having written
the _Life of Jesus_, I am permitted to relate, as I understand it, the
history of the apostles, the state of the Christian conscience during
the weeks which followed the death of Jesus, the formation of the
cycle of legends concerning the resurrection, the first acts of the
Church of Jerusalem, the life of Saint Paul, the crisis of the time of
Nero, the appearance of the Apocalypse, the fall of Jerusalem, the
foundation of the Hebrew-Christian sects of Batanea, the compilation
of the Gospels, and the rise of the great schools of Asia Minor
originated by John. Everything pales by the side of that marvellous
first century. By a peculiarity rare in history, we see much better
what passed in the Christian world from the year 50 to the year 75,
than from the year 100 to the year 150.
The plan followed in this history has prevented the introduction into
the text of long critical dissertations upon controverted points. A
continuous system of notes enables the reader to verify from the
authorities all the statements of the text. These notes are strictly
limited to quotations from the primary sources; that is to say, the
original passages upon which each assertion or conjecture rests. I
know that for persons little accustomed to studies of this kind many
other explanations would have been necessary. But it is not my
practice to do over again what has been already done well. To cite
only books written in French, those who will consult the following
excellent writings[1] will there find explained a number of points
upon which I have been obliged to be very brief:
_Études Critiques sur l'Évangile de saint Matthieu_, par M.
Albert Réville, pasteur de l'église Wallonne de
Rotterdam.[2]
_Histoire de la Théologie Chrétienne au Siècle Apostolique_,
par M. Reuss, professeur à la Faculté de Théologie et au
Séminaire Protestant de Strasbourg.[3]
_Des Doctrines Religieuses des Juifs pendant les Deux
Siècles Antérieurs à l'Ère Chrétienne_, par M. Michel
Nicolas, professeur à la Faculté de Théologie Protestante de
Montauban.[4]
_Vie de Jésus_, par le Dr. Strauss; traduite par M. Littré,
Membre de l'Institut.[5]
_Revue de Théologie et de Philosophie Chrétienne_, publiée
sous la direction de M. Colani, de 1850 à 1857.--_Nouvelle
Revue de Théologie_, faisant suite à la précédente depuis
1858.[6]
[Footnote 1: While this work was in the press, a book has appeared
which I do not hesitate to add to this list, although I have not read
it with the attention it deserves--_Les Évangiles_, par M. Gustave
d'Eichthal. Première Partie: _Examen Critique et Comparatif des Trois
Premiers Évangiles_. Paris, Hachette, 1863.]
[Footnote 2: Leyde, Noothoven van Goor, 1862. Paris, Cherbuliez. A
work crowned by the Society of The Hague for the defence of the
Christian religion.]
[Footnote 3: Strasbourg, Treuttel and Wurtz. 2nd edition. 1860. Paris,
Cherbuliez.]
[Footnote 4: Paris, Michel Lévy frères, 1860.]
[Footnote 5: Paris, Ladrange. 2nd edition, 1856.]
[Footnote 6: Strasbourg, Treuttel and Wurtz. Paris, Cherbuliez.]
The criticism of the details of the Gospel texts especially, has been
done by Strauss in a manner which leaves little to be desired.
Although Strauss may be mistaken in his theory of the compilation of
the Gospels;[1] and although his book has, in my opinion, the fault of
taking up the theological ground too much, and the historical ground
too little,[2] it will be necessary, in order to understand the
motives which have guided me amidst a crowd of minutiæ, to study the
always judicious, though sometimes rather subtle argument, of the
book, so well translated by my learned friend, M. Littré.
[Footnote 1: The great results obtained on this point have only been
acquired since the first edition of Strauss's work. The learned critic
has, besides, done justice to them with much candor in his after
editions.]
[Footnote 2: It is scarcely necessary to repeat that not a word in
Strauss's work justifies the strange and absurd calumny by which it
has been attempted to bring into disrepute with superficial persons, a
work so agreeable, accurate, thoughtful, and conscientious, though
spoiled in its general parts by an exclusive system. Not only has
Strauss never denied the existence of Jesus, but each page of his book
implies this existence. The truth is, Strauss supposes the individual
character of Jesus less distinct for us than it perhaps is in
reality.]
I do not believe I have neglected any source of information as to
ancient evidences. Without speaking of a crowd of other scattered
data, there remain, respecting Jesus, and the time in which he lived,
five great collections of writings--1st, The Gospels, and the
writings of the New Testament in general; 2d, The compositions called
the "Apocrypha of the Old Testament;" 3d, The works of Philo; 4th,
Those of Josephus; 5th, The Talmud. The writings of Philo have the
priceless advantage of showing us the thoughts which, in the time of
Jesus, fermented in minds occupied with great religious questions.
Philo lived, it is true, in quite a different province of Judaism to
Jesus, but, like him, he was very free from the littlenesses which
reigned at Jerusalem; Philo is truly the elder brother of Jesus. He
was sixty-two years old when the Prophet of Nazareth was at the height
of his activity, and he survived him at least ten years. What a pity
that the chances of life did not conduct him into Galilee! What would
he not have taught us!
Josephus, writing specially for pagans, is not so candid. His short
notices of Jesus, of John the Baptist, of Judas the Gaulonite, are dry
and colorless. We feel that he seeks to present these movements, so
profoundly Jewish in character and spirit, under a form which would be
intelligible to Greeks and Romans. I believe the passage respecting
Jesus[1] to be authentic. It is perfectly in the style of Josephus,
and if this historian has made mention of Jesus, it is thus that he
must have spoken of him. We feel only that a Christian hand has
retouched the passage, has added a few words--without which it would
almost have been blasphemous[2]--has perhaps retrenched or modified
some expressions.[3] It must be recollected that the literary fortune
of Josephus was made by the Christians, who adopted his writings as
essential documents of their sacred history. They made, probably in
the second century, an edition corrected according to Christian
ideas.[4] At all events, that which constitutes the immense interest
of Josephus on the subject which occupies us, is the clear light which
he throws upon the period. Thanks to him, Herod, Herodias, Antipas,
Philip, Annas, Caiaphas, and Pilate are personages whom we can touch
with the finger, and whom we see living before us with a striking
reality.
[Footnote 1: _Ant._, XVIII. iii. 3.]
[Footnote 2: "If it be lawful to call him a man."]
[Footnote 3: In place of [Greek: christos outos ên], he certainly had
these [Greek: christos outos elegeto].--Cf. _Ant._, XX. ix. 1.]
[Footnote 4: Eusebius (_Hist. Eccl._, i. 11, and _Demonstr. Evang._,
iii. 5) cites the passage respecting Jesus as we now read it in
Josephus. Origen (_Contra Celsus_, i. 47; ii. 13) and Eusebius (_Hist.
Eccl._, ii. 23) cite another Christian interpolation, which is not
found in any of the manuscripts of Josephus which have come down to
us.]
The Apocryphal books of the Old Testament, especially the Jewish part
of the Sibylline verses, and the Book of Enoch, together with the Book
of Daniel, which is also really an Apocrypha, have a primary
importance in the history of the development of the Messianic
theories, and for the understanding of the conceptions of Jesus
respecting the kingdom of God. The Book of Enoch especially, which was
much read at the time of Jesus,[1] gives us the key to the expression
"Son of Man," and to the ideas attached to it. The ages of these
different books, thanks to the labors of Alexander, Ewald, Dillmann,
and Reuss, is now beyond doubt. Every one is agreed in placing the
compilation of the most important of them in the second and first
centuries before Jesus Christ. The date of the Book of Daniel is still
more certain. The character of the two languages in which it is
written, the use of Greek words, the clear, precise, dated
announcement of events, which reach even to the time of Antiochus
Epiphanes, the incorrect descriptions of Ancient Babylonia, there
given, the general tone of the book, which in no respect recalls the
writings of the captivity, but, on the contrary, responds, by a crowd
of analogies, to the beliefs, the manners, the turn of imagination of
the time of the Seleucidæ; the Apocalyptic form of the visions, the
place of the book in the Hebrew canon, out of the series of the
prophets, the omission of Daniel in the panegyrics of Chapter xlix. of
Ecclesiasticus, in which his position is all but indicated, and many
other proofs which have been deduced a hundred times, do not permit of
a doubt that the Book of Daniel was but the fruit of the great
excitement produced among the Jews by the persecution of Antiochus. It
is not in the old prophetical literature that we must class this book,
but rather at the head of Apocalyptic literature, as the first model
of a kind of composition, after which come the various Sibylline
poems, the Book of Enoch, the Apocalypse of John, the Ascension of
Isaiah, and the Fourth Book of Esdras.
[Footnote 1: Jude Epist. 14.]
In the history of the origin of Christianity, the Talmud has hitherto
been too much neglected. I think with M. Geiger, that the true notion
of the circumstances which surrounded the development of Jesus must be
sought in this strange compilation, in which so much precious
information is mixed with the most insignificant scholasticism. The
Christian and the Jewish theology having in the main followed two
parallel ways, the history of the one cannot well be understood
without the history of the other. Innumerable important details in the
Gospels find, moreover, their commentary in the Talmud. The vast Latin
collections of Lightfoot, Schoettgen, Buxtorf, and Otho contained
already a mass of information on this point. I have imposed on myself
the task of verifying in the original all the citations which I have
admitted, without a single exception. The assistance which has been
given me for this part of my task by a learned Israelite, M. Neubauer,
well versed in Talmudic literature, has enabled me to go further, and
to clear up the most intricate parts of my subject by new researches.
The distinction of epochs is here most important, the compilation of
the Talmud extending from the year 200 to about the year 500. We have
brought to it as much discernment as is possible in the actual state
of these studies. Dates so recent will excite some fears among persons
habituated to accord value to a document only for the period in which
it was written. But such scruples would here be out of place. The
teaching of the Jews from the Asmonean epoch down to the second
century was principally oral. We must not judge of this state of
intelligence by the habits of an age of much writing. The Vedas, and
the ancient Arabian poems, have been preserved for ages from memory,
and yet these compositions present a very distinct and delicate form.
In the Talmud, on the contrary, the form has no value. Let us add that
before the _Mishnah_ of Judas the Saint, which has caused all others
to be forgotten, there were attempts at compilation, the commencement
of which is probably much earlier than is commonly supposed. The style
of the Talmud is that of loose notes; the collectors did no more
probably than classify under certain titles the enormous mass of
writings which had been accumulating in the different schools for
generations.
It remains for us to speak of the documents which, presenting
themselves as biographies of the Founder of Christianity, must
naturally hold the first place in a _Life of Jesus_. A complete
treatise upon the compilation of the Gospels would be a work of
itself. Thanks to the excellent researches of which this question has
been the object during thirty years, a problem which was formerly
judged insurmountable has obtained a solution which, though it leaves
room for many uncertainties, fully suffices for the necessities of
history. We shall have occasion to return to this in our Second Book,
the composition of the Gospels having been one of the most important
facts for the future of Christianity in the second half of the first
century. We will touch here only a single aspect of the subject, that
which is indispensable to the completeness of our narrative. Leaving
aside all which belongs to the portraiture of the apostolic times, we
will inquire only in what degree the data furnished by the Gospels may
be employed in a history formed according to rational principles.[1]
[Footnote 1: Persons who wish to read more ample explanations, may
consult, in addition to the work of M. Réville, previously cited, the
writings of Reuss and Scherer in the _Revue de Théologie_, vol. x.,
xi., xv.; new series, ii., iii., iv.; and that of Nicolas in the
_Revue Germanique_, Sept. and Dec., 1862; April and June, 1863.]
That the Gospels are in part legendary, is evident, since they are
full of miracles and of the supernatural; but legends have not all the
same value. No one doubts the principal features of the life of
Francis d'Assisi, although we meet the supernatural at every step. No
one, on the other hand, accords credit to the _Life of Apollonius of
Tyana_, because it was written long after the time of the hero, and
purely as a romance. At what time, by what hands, under what
circumstances, have the Gospels been compiled? This is the primary
question upon which depends the opinion to be formed of their
credibility.
Each of the four Gospels bears at its head the name of a personage,
known either in the apostolic history, or in the Gospel history
itself. These four personages are not strictly given us as the
authors. The formulæ "according to Matthew," "according to Mark,"
"according to Luke," "according to John," do not imply that, in the
most ancient opinion, these recitals were written from beginning to
end by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,[1] they merely signify that
these were the traditions proceeding from each of these apostles, and
claiming their authority. It is clear that, if these titles are exact,
the Gospels, without ceasing to be in part legendary, are of great
value, since they enable us to go back to the half century which
followed the death of Jesus, and in two instances, even to the
eye-witnesses of his actions.
[Footnote 1: In the same manner we say, "The Gospel according to the
Hebrews," "The Gospel according to the Egyptians."]
Firstly, as to Luke, doubt is scarcely possible. The Gospel of Luke is
a regular composition, founded on anterior documents.[1] It is the
work of a man who selects, prunes, and combines. The author of this
Gospel is certainly the same as that of the Acts of the Apostles.[2]
Now, the author of the Acts is a companion of St. Paul,[3] a title
which applies to Luke exactly.[4] I know that more than one objection
may be raised against this reasoning; but one thing, at least, is
beyond doubt, namely, that the author of the third Gospel and of the
Acts was a man of the second apostolic generation, and that is
sufficient for our object. The date of this Gospel can moreover be
determined with much precision by considerations drawn from the book
itself. The twenty-first chapter of Luke, inseparable from the rest of
the work, was certainly written after the siege of Jerusalem, and but
a short time after.[5] We are here, then, upon solid ground; for we
are concerned with a work written entirely by the same hand, and of
the most perfect unity.
[Footnote 1: Luke i. 1-4.]
[Footnote 2: _Acts_ i. 1. Compare Luke i. 1-4.]
[Footnote 3: From xvi. 10, the author represents himself as
eye-witness.]
[Footnote 4: 2 Tim. iv. 11; Philemon 24; Col. iv. 14. The name of
_Lucas_ (contraction of _Lucanus_) being very rare, we need not fear
one of those homonyms which cause so many perplexities in questions of
criticism relative to the New Testament.]
[Footnote 5: Verses 9, 20, 24, 28, 32. Comp. xxii. 36.]
The Gospels of Matthew and Mark have not nearly the same stamp of
individuality. They are impersonal compositions, in which the author
totally disappears. A proper name written at the head of works of this
kind does not amount to much. But if the Gospel of Luke is dated,
those of Matthew and Mark are dated also; for it is certain that the
third Gospel is posterior to the first two and exhibits the character
of a much more advanced compilation. We have, besides, on this point,
an excellent testimony from a writer of the first half of the second
century--namely, Papias, bishop of Hierapolis, a grave man, a man of
traditions, who was all his life seeking to collect whatever could be
known of the person of Jesus.[1] After having declared that on such
matters he preferred oral tradition to books, Papias mentions two
writings on the acts and words of Christ: First, a writing of Mark,
the interpreter of the apostle Peter, written briefly, incomplete, and
not arranged in chronological order, including narratives and
discourses, ([Greek: lechthenta ê prachthenta],) composed from the
information and recollections of the apostle Peter; second, a
collection of sentences ([Greek: logia]) written in Hebrew[2] by
Matthew, "and which each one has translated as he could." It is
certain that these two descriptions answer pretty well to the general
physiognomy of the two books now called "Gospel according to Matthew,"
"Gospel according to Mark"--the first characterized by its long
discourses; the second, above all, by anecdote--much more exact than
the first upon small facts, brief even to dryness, containing few
discourses, and indifferently composed. That these two works, such as
we now read them, are absolutely similar to those read by Papias,
cannot be sustained: Firstly, because the writings of Matthew were to
Papias solely discourses in Hebrew, of which there were in circulation
very varying translations; and, secondly, because the writings of Mark
and Matthew were to him profoundly distinct, written without any
knowledge of each other, and, as it seems, in different languages.
Now, in the present state of the texts, the "Gospel according to
Matthew" and the "Gospel according to Mark" present parallel parts so
long and so perfectly identical, that it must be supposed, either that
the final compiler of the first had the second under his eyes, or
_vice versa_, or that both copied from the same prototype. That which
appears the most likely, is, that we have not the entirely original
compilations of either Matthew or Mark; but that our first two Gospels
are versions in which the attempt is made to fill up the gaps of the
one text by the other. Every one wished, in fact, to possess a
complete copy. He who had in his copy only discourses, wished to have
narratives, and _vice versa_. It is thus that "the Gospel according to
Matthew" is found to have included almost all the anecdotes of Mark,
and that "the Gospel according to Mark" now contains numerous
features which come from the _Logia_ of Matthew. Every one, besides,
drew largely on the Gospel tradition then current. This tradition was
so far from having been exhausted by the Gospels, that the Acts of the
Apostles and the most ancient Fathers quote many words of Jesus which
appear authentic, and are not found in the Gospels we possess.
[Footnote 1: In Eusebius, _Hist. Eccl._, iii. 39. No doubt whatever
can be raised as to the authenticity of this passage. Eusebius, in
fact, far from exaggerating the authority of Papias, is embarrassed at
his simple ingenuousness, at his gross millenarianism, and solves the
difficulty by treating him as a man of little mind. Comp. Irenæus,
_Adv. Hær._, iii. 1.]
[Footnote 2: That is to say, in the Semitic dialect.]
It matters little for our present object to push this delicate
analysis further, and to endeavor to reconstruct in some manner, on
the one hand, the original _Logia_ of Matthew, and, on the other, the
primitive narrative such as it left the pen of Mark. The _Logia_ are
doubtless represented by the great discourses of Jesus which fill a
considerable part of the first Gospel. These discourses form, in fact,
when detached from the rest, a sufficiently complete whole. As to the
narratives of the first and second Gospels, they seem to have for
basis a common document, of which the text reappears sometimes in the
one and sometimes in the other, and of which the second Gospel, such
as we read it to-day, is but a slightly modified reproduction. In
other words, the scheme of the _Life of Jesus_, in the synoptics,
rests upon two original documents--first, the discourses of Jesus
collected by Matthew; second, the collection of anecdotes and personal
reminiscences which Mark wrote from the recollections of Peter. We may
say that we have these two documents still, mixed with accounts from
another source, in the two first Gospels, which bear, not without
reason, the name of the "Gospel _according_ to Matthew" and of the
"Gospel _according_ to Mark."
What is indubitable, in any case, is, that very early the discourses
of Jesus were written in the Aramean language, and very early also his
remarkable actions were recorded. These were not texts defined and
fixed dogmatically. Besides the Gospels which have come to us, there
were a number of others professing to represent the tradition of
eye-witnesses.[1] Little importance was attached to these writings,
and the preservers, such as Papias, greatly preferred oral
tradition.[2] As men still believed that the world was nearly at an
end, they cared little to compose books for the future; it was
sufficient merely to preserve in their hearts a lively image of him
whom they hoped soon to see again in the clouds. Hence the little
authority which the Gospel texts enjoyed during one hundred and fifty
years. There was no scruple in inserting additions, in variously
combining them, and in completing some by others. The poor man who has
but one book wishes that it may contain all that is clear to his
heart. These little books were lent, each one transcribed in the
margin of his copy the words, and the parables he found elsewhere,
which touched him.[3] The most beautiful thing in the world has thus
proceeded from an obscure and purely popular elaboration. No
compilation was of absolute value. Justin, who often appeals to that
which he calls "The Memoirs of the Apostles,"[4] had under his notice
Gospel documents in a state very different from that in which we
possess them. At all events, he never cares to quote them textually.
The Gospel quotations in the pseudo-Clementinian writings, of
Ebionite origin, present the same character. The spirit was
everything; the letter was nothing. It was when tradition became
weakened, in the second half of the second century, that the texts
bearing the names of the apostles took a decisive authority and
obtained the force of law.
[Footnote 1: Luke i. 1, 2; Origen, _Hom. in Luc._ 1 init.; St. Jerome,
_Comment. in Matt._, prol.]
[Footnote 2: Papias, in Eusebius, _H.E._, iii. 39. Comp. Irenæus,
_Adv. Hær._, III. ii. and iii.]
[Footnote 3: It is thus that the beautiful narrative in John viii.
1-11 has always floated, without finding a fixed place in the
framework of the received Gospels.]
[Footnote 4: [Greek: Ta apomnêmoneumata tôn apostolôn, a kaleitai
euangelia]. Justin, _Apol._ i. 33, 66, 67; _Dial. cum Tryph._, 10,
100-107.]
Who does not see the value of documents thus composed of the tender
remembrances, and simple narratives, of the first two Christian
generations, still full of the strong impression which the illustrious
Founder had produced, and which seemed long to survive him? Let us
add, that the Gospels in question seem to proceed from that branch of
the Christian family which stood nearest to Jesus. The last work of
compilation, at least of the text which bears the name of Matthew,
appears to have been done in one of the countries situated at the
northeast of Palestine, such as Gaulonitis, Auranitis, Batanea, where
many Christians took refuge at the time of the Roman war, where were
found relatives of Jesus[1] even in the second century, and where the
first Galilean tendency was longer preserved than in other parts.
[Footnote 1: Julius Africanus, in Eusebius, _Hist. Eccl._, i. 7.]
So far we have only spoken of the three Gospels named the synoptics.
There remains a fourth, that which bears the name of John. Concerning
this one, doubts have a much better foundation, and the question is
further from solution. Papias--who was connected with the school of
John, and who, if not one of his auditors, as Irenæus thinks,
associated with his immediate disciples, among others, Aristion, and
the one called _Presbyteros Joannes_--says not a word of a _Life of
Jesus_, written by John, although he had zealously collected the oral
narratives of both Aristion and _Presbyteros Joannes_. If any such
mention had been found in his work, Eusebius, who points out
everything therein that can contribute to the literary history of the
apostolic age, would doubtless have mentioned it.
The intrinsic difficulties drawn from the perusal of the fourth Gospel
itself are not less strong. How is it that, side by side with
narration so precise, and so evidently that of an eye-witness, we find
discourses so totally different from those of Matthew? How is it that,
connected with a general plan of the life of Jesus, which appears much
more satisfactory and exact than that of the synoptics, these singular
passages occur in which we are sensible of a dogmatic interest
peculiar to the compiler, of ideas foreign to Jesus, and sometimes of
indications which place us on our guard against the good faith of the
narrator? Lastly, how is it that, united with views the most pure, the
most just, the most truly evangelical, we find these blemishes which
we would fain regard as the interpolations of an ardent sectarian? Is
it indeed John, son of Zebedee, brother of James (of whom there is not
a single mention made in the fourth Gospel), who is able to write in
Greek these lessons of abstract metaphysics to which neither the
synoptics nor the Talmud offer any analogy? All this is of great
importance; and for myself, I dare not be sure that the fourth Gospel
has been entirely written by the pen of a Galilean fisherman. But
that, as a whole, this Gospel may have originated toward the end of
the first century, from the great school of Asia Minor, which was
connected with John, that it represents to us a version of the life of
the Master, worthy of high esteem, and often to be preferred, is
demonstrated, in a manner which leaves us nothing to be desired, both
by exterior evidences and by examination of the document itself.
And, firstly, no one doubts that, toward the year 150, the fourth
Gospel did exist, and was attributed to John. Explicit texts from St.
Justin,[1] from Athenagorus,[2] from Tatian,[3] from Theophilus of
Antioch,[4] from Irenæus,[5] show that thenceforth this Gospel mixed
in every controversy, and served as corner-stone for the development
of the faith. Irenæus is explicit; now, Irenæus came from the school
of John, and between him and the apostle there was only Polycarp. The
part played by this Gospel in Gnosticism, and especially in the system
of Valentinus,[6] in Montanism,[7] and in the quarrel of the
Quartodecimans,[8] is not less decisive. The school of John was the
most influential one during the second century; and it is only by
regarding the origin of the Gospel as coincident with the rise of the
school, that the existence of the latter can be understood at all. Let
us add that the first epistle attributed to St. John is certainly by
the same author as the fourth Gospel,[9] now, this epistle is
recognized as from John by Polycarp,[10] Papias,[11] and Irenæus.[12]
[Footnote 1: _Apol._, 32, 61; _Dial. cum Tryph._, 88.]
[Footnote 2: _Legatio pro Christ_, 10.]
[Footnote 3: _Adv. Græc._, 5, 7; Cf. Eusebius, _H.E._, iv. 29;
Theodoret, _Hæretic. Fabul._, i. 20.]
[Footnote 4: _Ad Autolycum_, ii. 22.]
[Footnote 5: _Adv. Hær._, II. xxii. 5, III. 1. Cf. Eus., _H.E._, v.
8.]
[Footnote 6: Irenæus, _Adv. Hær._, I. iii. 6; III. xi. 7; St.
Hippolytus, _Philosophumena_ VI. ii. 29, and following.]
[Footnote 7: Irenæus, _Adv. Hær._, III. xi. 9.]
[Footnote 8: Eusebius, _Hist. Eccl._, v. 24.]
[Footnote 9: John, i. 3, 5. The two writings present the most complete
identity of style, the same peculiarities, the same favorite
expressions.]
[Footnote 10: _Epist. ad Philipp._, 7.]
[Footnote 11: In Eusebius, _Hist. Eccl._, III. 39.]
[Footnote 12: _Adv. Hær._, III. xvi. 5, 8; Cf. Eusebius, _Hist.
Eccl._, v. 8.]
But it is, above all, the perusal of the work itself which is
calculated to give this impression. The author always speaks as an
eye-witness; he wishes to pass for the apostle John. If, then, this
work is not really by the apostle, we must admit a fraud of which the
author convicts himself. Now, although the ideas of the time
respecting literary honesty differed essentially from ours, there is
no example in the apostolic world of a falsehood of this kind.
Besides, not only does the author wish to pass for the apostle John,
but we see clearly that he writes in the interest of this apostle. On
each page he betrays the desire to fortify his authority, to show that
he has been the favorite of Jesus;[1] that in all the solemn
circumstances (at the Lord's supper, at Calvary, at the tomb) he held
the first place. His relations on the whole fraternal, although not
excluding a certain rivalry with Peter;[2] his hatred, on the
contrary, of Judas,[3] a hatred probably anterior to the betrayal,
seems to pierce through here and there. We are tempted to believe that
John, in his old age, having read the Gospel narratives, on the one
hand, remarked their various inaccuracies,[4] on the other, was hurt
at seeing that there was not accorded to him a sufficiently high place
in the history of Christ; that then he commenced to dictate a number
of things which he knew better than the rest, with the intention of
showing that in many instances, in which only Peter was spoken of, he
had figured with him and even before him.[5] Already during the life
of Jesus, these trifling sentiments of jealousy had been manifested
between the sons of Zebedee and the other disciples. After the death
of James, his brother, John remained sole inheritor of the intimate
remembrances of which these two apostles, by the common consent, were
the depositaries. Hence his perpetual desire to recall that he is the
last surviving eye-witness,[6] and the pleasure which he takes in
relating circumstances which he alone could know. Hence, too, so many
minute details which seem like the commentaries of an annotator--"it
was the sixth hour;" "it was night;" "the servant's name was Malchus;"
"they had made a fire of coals, for it was cold;" "the coat was
without seam." Hence, lastly, the disorder of the compilation, the
irregularity of the narration, the disjointedness of the first
chapters, all so many inexplicable features on the supposition that
this Gospel was but a theological thesis, without historic value, and
which, on the contrary, are perfectly intelligible, if, in conformity
with tradition, we see in them the remembrances of an old man,
sometimes of remarkable freshness, sometimes having undergone strange
modifications.
[Footnote 1: John xiii. 23, xix. 26, xx. 2, xxi. 7, 20.]
[Footnote 2: John xviii. 15-16, xx. 2-6, xxi. 15-16. Comp. i. 35, 40,
41.]
[Footnote 3: John vi. 65, xii. 6, xiii. 21, and following.]
[Footnote 4: The manner in which Aristion and _Presbyteros Joannes_
expressed themselves on the Gospel of Mark before Papias (Eusebius,
_H.E._, III. 39) implies, in effect, a friendly criticism, or, more
properly, a sort of excuse, indicating that John's disciples had
better information on the same subject.]
[Footnote 5: Compare John xviii. 15, and following, with Matthew xxvi.
58; John xx. 2 to 6, with Mark xvi. 7. See also John xiii. 24, 25.]
[Footnote 6: Chap. i. 14, xix. 35, xxi. 24, and following. Compare the
First Epistle of St. John, chap. i. 3, 5.]
A primary distinction, indeed, ought to be made in the Gospel of John.
On the one side, this Gospel presents us with a rough draft of the
life of Jesus, which differs considerably from that of the synoptics.
On the other, it puts into the mouth of Jesus discourses of which the
tone, the style, the treatment, and the doctrines have nothing in
common with the _Logia_ given us by the synoptics. In this second
respect, the difference is such that we must make choice in a decisive
manner. If Jesus spoke as Matthew represents, he could not have
spoken as John relates. Between these two authorities no critic has
ever hesitated, or can ever hesitate. Far removed from the simple,
disinterested, impersonal tone of the synoptics, the Gospel of John
shows incessantly the preoccupation of the apologist--the mental
reservation of the sectarian, the desire to prove a thesis, and to
convince adversaries.[1] It was not by pretentious tirades, heavy,
badly written, and appealing little to the moral sense, that Jesus
founded his divine work. If even Papias had not taught us that Matthew
wrote the sayings of Jesus in their original tongue, the natural,
ineffable truth, the charm beyond comparison of the discourses in the
synoptics, their profoundly Hebraistic idiom, the analogies which they
present with the sayings of the Jewish doctors of the period, their
perfect harmony with the natural phenomena of Galilee--all these
characteristics, compared with the obscure Gnosticism, with the
distorted metaphysics, which fill the discourses of John, would speak
loudly enough. This by no means implies that there are not in the
discourses of John some admirable gleams, some traits which truly come
from Jesus.[2] But the mystic tone of these discourses does not
correspond at all to the character of the eloquence of Jesus, such as
we picture it according to the synoptics. A new spirit has breathed;
Gnosticism has already commenced; the Galilean era of the kingdom of
God is finished; the hope of the near advent of Christ is more
distant; we enter on the barrenness of metaphysics, into the darkness
of abstract dogma. The spirit of Jesus is not there, and, if the son
of Zebedee has truly traced these pages, he had certainly, in writing
them, quite forgotten the Lake of Gennesareth, and the charming
discourses which he had heard upon its shores.
[Footnote 1: See, for example, chaps. ix. and xi. Notice especially,
the effect which such passages as John xix. 35, xx. 31, xxi. 20-23,
24, 25, produce, when we recall the absence of all comments which
distinguishes the synoptics.]
[Footnote 2: For example, chap. iv. 1, and following, xv. 12, and
following. Many words remembered by John are found in the synoptics
(chap. xii. 16, xv. 20).]
One circumstance, moreover, which strongly proves that the discourses
given us by the fourth Gospel are not historical, but compositions
intended to cover with the authority of Jesus certain doctrines dear
to the compiler, is their perfect harmony with the intellectual state
of Asia Minor at the time when they were written. Asia Minor was then
the theatre of a strange movement of syncretical philosophy; all the
germs of Gnosticism existed there already. John appears to have drunk
deeply from these strange springs. It may be that, after the crisis of
the year 68 (the date of the Apocalypse) and of the year 70 (the
destruction of Jerusalem), the old apostle, with an ardent and plastic
spirit, disabused of the belief in a near appearance of the Son of Man
in the clouds, may have inclined toward the ideas that he found around
him, of which several agreed sufficiently well with certain Christian
doctrines. In attributing these new ideas to Jesus, he only followed a
very natural tendency. Our remembrances are transformed with our
circumstances; the ideal of a person that we have known changes as we
change.[1] Considering Jesus as the incarnation of truth, John could
not fail to attribute to him that which he had come to consider as the
truth.
[Footnote 1: It was thus that Napoleon became a liberal in the
remembrances of his companions in exile, when these, after their
return, found themselves thrown in the midst of the political society
of the time.]
If we must speak candidly, we will add that probably John himself had
little share in this; that the change was made around him rather than
by him. One is sometimes tempted to believe that precious notes,
coming from the apostle, have been employed by his disciples in a very
different sense from the primitive Gospel spirit. In fact, certain
portions of the fourth Gospel have been added later; such is the
entire twenty-first chapter,[1] in which the author seems to wish to
render homage to the apostle Peter after his death, and to reply to
the objections which would be drawn, or already had been drawn, from
the death of John himself, (ver. 21-23.) Many other places bear the
trace of erasures and corrections.[2] It is impossible at this
distance to understand these singular problems, and without doubt many
surprises would be in store for us, if we were permitted to penetrate
the secrets of that mysterious school of Ephesus, which, more than
once, appears to have delighted in obscure paths. But there is a
decisive test. Every one who sets himself to write the Life of Jesus
without any predetermined theory as to the relative value of the
Gospels, letting himself be guided solely by the sentiment of the
subject, will be led in numerous instances to prefer the narration of
John to that of the synoptics. The last months of the life of Jesus
especially are explained by John alone; a number of the features of
the passion, unintelligible in the synoptics,[3] resume both
probability and possibility in the narrative of the fourth Gospel. On
the contrary, I dare defy any one to compose a Life of Jesus with any
meaning, from the discourses which John attributes to him. This manner
of incessantly preaching and demonstrating himself, this perpetual
argumentation, this stage-effect devoid of simplicity, these long
arguments after each miracle, these stiff and awkward discourses, the
tone of which is so often false and unequal,[4] would not be tolerated
by a man of taste compared with the delightful sentences of the
synoptics. There are here evidently artificial portions,[5] which
represent to us the sermons of Jesus, as the dialogues of Plato render
us the conversations of Socrates. They are, so to speak, the
variations of a musician improvising on a given theme. The theme is
not without some authenticity; but in the execution, the imagination
of the artist has given itself full scope. We are sensible of the
factitious mode of procedure, of rhetoric, of gloss.[6] Let us add
that the vocabulary of Jesus cannot be recognized in the portions of
which we speak. The expression, "kingdom of God," which was so
familiar to the Master,[7] occurs there but once.[8] On the other
hand, the style of the discourses attributed to Jesus by the fourth
Gospel, presents the most complete analogy with that of the Epistles
of St. John; we see that in writing the discourses, the author
followed not his recollections, but rather the somewhat monotonous
movement of his own thought. Quite a new mystical language is
introduced, a language of which the synoptics had not the least idea
("world," "truth," "life," "light," "darkness," etc.). If Jesus had
ever spoken in this style, which has nothing of Hebrew, nothing
Jewish, nothing Talmudic in it, how, if I may thus express myself, is
it that but a single one of his hearers should have so well kept the
secret?
[Footnote 1: The verses, chap. xx. 30, 31, evidently form the original
conclusion.]
[Footnote 2: Chap. vi. 2, 22, vii. 22.]
[Footnote 3: For example, that which concerns the announcement of the
betrayal by Judas.]
[Footnote 4: See, for example, chaps. ii. 25, iii. 32, 33, and the
long disputes of chapters vii., viii., and ix.]
[Footnote 5: We feel often that the author seeks pretexts for
introducing certain discourses (chaps. iii., v., viii., xiii., and
following).]
[Footnote 6: For example, chap. xvii.]
[Footnote 7: Besides the synoptics, the Acts, the Epistles of St.
Paul, and the Apocalypse, confirm it.]
[Footnote 8: John iii. 3, 5.]
Literary history offers, besides, another example, which presents the
greatest analogy with the historic phenomenon we have just described,
and serves to explain it. Socrates, who, like Jesus, never wrote, is
known to us by two of his disciples, Xenophon and Plato, the first
corresponding to the synoptics in his clear, transparent, impersonal
compilation; the second recalling the author of the fourth Gospel, by
his vigorous individuality. In order to describe the Socratic
teaching, should we follow the "dialogues" of Plato, or the
"discourses" of Xenophon? Doubt, in this respect, is not possible;
every one chooses the "discourses," and not the "dialogues." Does
Plato, however, teach us nothing about Socrates? Would it be good
criticism, in writing the biography of the latter, to neglect the
"dialogues"? Who would venture to maintain this? The analogy,
moreover, is not complete, and the difference is in favor of the
fourth Gospel. The author of this Gospel is, in fact, the better
biographer; as if Plato, who, whilst attributing to his master
fictitious discourses, had known important matters about his life,
which Xenophon ignored entirely.
Without pronouncing upon the material question as to what hand has
written the fourth Gospel, and whilst inclined to believe that the
discourses, at least, are not from the son of Zebedee, we admit still,
that it is indeed "the Gospel according to John," in the same sense
that the first and second Gospels are the Gospels "according to
Matthew," and "according to Mark." The historical sketch of the fourth
Gospel is the Life of Jesus, such as it was known in the school of
John; it is the recital which Aristion and _Presbyteros Joannes_ made
to Papias, without telling him that it was written, or rather
attaching no importance to this point. I must add, that, in my
opinion, this school was better acquainted with the exterior
circumstances of the life of the Founder than the group whose
remembrances constituted the synoptics. It had, especially upon the
sojourns of Jesus at Jerusalem, data which the others did not possess.
The disciples of this school treated Mark as an indifferent
biographer, and devised a system to explain his omissions.[1] Certain
passages of Luke, where there is, as it were, an echo of the
traditions of John,[2] prove also that these traditions were not
entirely unknown to the rest of the Christian family.
[Footnote 1: Papias, _loc. cit._]
[Footnote 2: For example, the pardon of the adulteress; the knowledge
which Luke has of the family of Bethany; his type of the character of
Martha responding to the [Greek: diêchouei] of John (chap. xii. 2);
the incident of the woman who wiped the feet of Jesus with her hair;
an obscure notion of the travels of Jesus to Jerusalem; the idea that
in his passion he was seen by three witnesses; the opinion of the
author that some disciples were present at the crucifixion; the
knowledge which he has of the part played by Annas in aiding Caiaphas;
the appearance of the angel in the agony (comp. John xii. 28, 29).]
These explanations will suffice, I think, to show, in the course of my
narrative, the motives which have determined me to give the preference
to this or that of the four guides whom we have for the _Life of
Jesus_. On the whole, I admit as authentic the four canonical Gospels.
All, in my opinion, date from the first century, and the authors are,
generally speaking, those to whom they are attributed; but their
historic value is very diverse. Matthew evidently merits an unlimited
confidence as to the discourses; they are the _Logia_, the identical
notes taken from a clear and lively remembrance of the teachings of
Jesus. A kind of splendor at once mild and terrible--a divine
strength, if we may so speak, emphasizes these words, detaches them
from the context, and renders them easily distinguishable. The person
who imposes upon himself the task of making a continuous narrative
from the gospel history, possesses, in this respect, an excellent
touchstone. The real words of Jesus disclose themselves; as soon as we
touch them in this chaos of traditions of varied authenticity, we feel
them vibrate; they betray themselves spontaneously, and shine out of
the narrative with unequaled brilliancy.
The narrative portions grouped in the first Gospel around this
primitive nucleus have not the same authority. There are many not well
defined legends which have proceeded from the zeal of the second
Christian generation.[1] The Gospel of Mark is much firmer, more
precise, containing fewer subsequent additions. He is the one of the
three synoptics who has remained the most primitive, the most
original, the one to whom the fewest after-elements have been added.
In Mark, the facts are related with a clearness for which we seek in
vain amongst the other evangelists. He likes to report certain words
of Jesus in Syro-Chaldean.[2] He is full of minute observations,
coming doubtless from an eye-witness. There is nothing to prevent our
agreeing with Papias in regarding this eye-witness, who evidently had
followed Jesus, who had loved him and observed him very closely, and
who had preserved a lively image of him, as the apostle Peter himself.
[Footnote 1: Chaps. i., ii., especially. See also chap. xxvii. 3, 19,
51, 53, 60, xxviii. 2, and following, in comparing Mark.]
[Footnote 2: Chap. v. 41, vii. 34, xv. 24. Matthew only presents this
peculiarity once (chap. xxvii. 46).]
As to the work of Luke, its historical value is sensibly weaker. It is
a document which comes to us second-hand. The narrative is more
mature. The words of Jesus are there, more deliberate, more
sententious. Some sentences are distorted and exaggerated.[1] Writing
outside of Palestine, and certainly after the siege of Jerusalem,[2]
the author indicates the places with less exactitude than the other
two synoptics; he has an erroneous idea of the temple, which he
represents as an oratory where people went to pay their devotions.[3]
He subdues some details in order to make the different narratives
agree;[4] he softens the passages which had become embarrassing on
account of a more exalted idea of the divinity of Christ;[5] he
exaggerates the marvellous;[6] commits errors in chronology;[7] omits
Hebraistic comments;[8] quotes no word of Jesus in this language, and
gives to all the localities their Greek names. We feel we have to do
with a compiler--with a man who has not himself seen the witnesses,
but who labors at the texts and wrests their sense to make them agree.
Luke had probably under his eyes the biographical collection of Mark,
and the _Logia_ of Matthew. But he treats them with much freedom;
sometimes he fuses two anecdotes or two parables in one;[9] sometimes
he divides one in order to make two.[10] He interprets the documents
according to his own idea; he has not the absolute impassibility of
Matthew and Mark. We might affirm certain things of his individual
tastes and tendencies; he is a very exact devotee;[11] he insists that
Jesus had performed all the Jewish rites,[12] he is a warm Ebionite
and democrat, that is to say, much opposed to property, and persuaded
that the triumph of the poor is approaching;[13] he likes especially
all the anecdotes showing prominently the conversion of sinners--the
exaltation of the humble;[14] he often modifies the ancient traditions
in order to give them this meaning;[15] he admits into his first pages
the legends about the infancy of Jesus, related with the long
amplifications, the spiritual songs, and the conventional proceedings
which form the essential features of the Apocryphal Gospels. Finally,
he has in the narrative of the last hours of Jesus some circumstances
full of tender feeling, and certain words of Jesus of delightful
beauty,[16] which are not found in more authentic accounts, and in
which we detect the presence of legend. Luke probably borrowed them
from a more recent collection, in which the principal aim was to
excite sentiments of piety.
[Footnote 1: Chap. xiv. 26. The rules of the apostolate (chap. x.)
have there a peculiar character of exaltation.]
[Footnote 2: Chap. xix. 41, 43, 44, xxi. 9, 20, xxiii. 29.]
[Footnote 3: Chap. ii. 37, xviii. 10, and following, xxiv. 53.]
[Footnote 4: For example, chap. iv. 16.]
[Footnote 5: Chap. iii. 23. He omits Matt. xxiv. 36.]
[Footnote 6: Chap. iv. 14, xxii. 43, 44.]
[Footnote 7: For example, in that which concerns Quirinius, Lysanias,
Theudas.]
[Footnote 8: Compare Luke i. 31 with Matt. i. 21.]
[Footnote 9: For example, chap. xix. 12-27.]
[Footnote 10: Thus, of the repast at Bethany he gives two narratives,
chap. vii. 36-48, and x. 38-42.]
[Footnote 11: Chap. xxiii. 56.]
[Footnote 12: Chap. ii. 21, 22, 39, 41, 42. This is an Ebionitish
feature. Cf. _Philosophumena_ VII. vi. 34.]
[Footnote 13: The parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Compare chap.
vi. 20, and following, 24, and following, xii. 13, and following, xvi.
entirely, xxii. 35. _Acts_ ii. 44, 45, v. 1, and following.]
[Footnote 14: The woman who anoints his feet, Zaccheus, the penitent
thief, the parable of the Pharisee and the publican, and the prodigal
son.]
[Footnote 15: For example, Mary of Bethany is represented by him as a
sinner who becomes converted.]
[Footnote 16: Jesus weeping over Jerusalem, the bloody sweat, the
meeting of the holy women, the penitent thief, &c. The speech to the
women of Jerusalem (xxiii. 28, 29) could scarcely have been conceived
except after the siege of the year 70.]
A great reserve was naturally enforced in presence of a document of
this nature. It would have been as uncritical to neglect it as to
employ it without discernment. Luke has had under his eyes originals
which we no longer possess. He is less an evangelist than a biographer
of Jesus, a "harmonizer," a corrector after the manner of Marcion and
Tatian. But he is a biographer of the first century, a divine artist,
who, independently of the information which he has drawn from more
ancient sources, shows us the character of the Founder with a
happiness of treatment, with a uniform inspiration, and a distinctness
which the other two synoptics do not possess. In the perusal of his
Gospel there is the greatest charm; for to the incomparable beauty of
the foundation, common to them all, he adds a degree of skill in
composition which singularly augments the effect of the portrait,
without seriously injuring its truthfulness.
On the whole, we may say that the synoptical compilation has passed
through three stages: First, the original documentary state ([Greek:
logia] of Matthew, [Greek: lechthenta ê prachthenta] of Mark), primary
compilations which no longer exist; second, the state of simple
mixture, in which the original documents are amalgamated without any
effort at composition, without there appearing any personal bias of
the authors (the existing Gospels of Matthew and Mark); third, the
state of combination or of intentional and deliberate compiling, in
which we are sensible of an attempt to reconcile the different
versions (Gospel of Luke). The Gospel of John, as we have said, forms
a composition of another orders and is entirely distinct.
It will be remarked that I have made no use of the Apocryphal Gospels.
These compositions ought not in any manner to be put upon the same
footing as the canonical Gospels. They are insipid and puerile
amplifications, having the canonical Gospels for their basis, and
adding nothing thereto of any value. On the other hand, I have been
very attentive to collect the shreds preserved by the Fathers of the
Church, of the ancient Gospels which formerly existed parallel with
the canonical Gospels, and which are now lost--such as the Gospel
according to the Hebrews, the Gospel according to the Egyptians, the
Gospels styled those of Justin, Marcion, and Tatian. The first two are
principally important because they were written in Aramean, like the
_Logia_ of Matthew, and appear to constitute one version of the Gospel
of this apostle, and because they were the Gospel of the
_Ebionim_--that is, of those small Christian sects of Batanea who
preserved the use of Syro-Chaldean, and who appear in some respects to
have followed the course marked out by Jesus. But it must be confessed
that in the state in which they have come to us, these Gospels are
inferior, as critical authorities, to the compilation of Matthew's
Gospel which we now possess.
It will now be seen, I think, what kind of historical value I
attribute to the Gospels. They are neither biographies after the
manner of Suetonius, nor fictitious legends in the style of
Philostratus; they are legendary biographies. I should willingly
compare them with the Legends of the Saints, the Lives of Plotinus,
Proclus, Isidore, and other writings of the same kind, in which
historical truth and the desire to present models of virtue are
combined in various degrees. Inexactitude, which is one of the
features of all popular compositions, is there particularly felt. Let
us suppose that ten or twelve years ago three or four old soldiers of
the Empire had each undertaken to write the life of Napoleon from
memory. It is clear that their narratives would contain numerous
errors, and great discordances. One of them would place Wagram before
Marengo: another would write without hesitation that Napoleon drove
the government of Robespierre from the Tuileries; a third would omit
expeditions of the highest importance. But one thing would certainly
result with a great degree of truthfulness from these simple recitals,
and that is the character of the hero, the impression which he made
around him. In this sense such popular narratives would be worth more
than a formal and official history. We may say as much of the Gospels.
Solely attentive to bring out strongly the excellency of the Master,
his miracles, his teaching, the evangelists display entire
indifference to everything that is not of the very spirit of Jesus.
The contradictions respecting time, place, and persons were regarded
as insignificant; for the higher the degree of inspiration attributed
to the words of Jesus, the less was granted to the compilers
themselves. The latter regarded themselves as simple scribes, and
cared but for one thing--to omit nothing they knew.[1]
[Footnote 1: See the passage from Papias, before cited.]
Unquestionably certain preconceived ideas associated themselves with
such recollections. Several narratives, especially in Luke, are
invented in order to bring out more vividly certain traits of the
character of Jesus. This character itself constantly underwent
alteration. Jesus would be a phenomenon unparalleled in history if,
with the part which he played, he had not early become idealized. The
legends respecting Alexander were invented before the generation of
his companions in arms became extinct; those respecting St. Francis
d'Assisi began in his lifetime. A rapid metamorphosis operated in the
same manner in the twenty or thirty years which followed the death of
Jesus, and imposed upon his biography the peculiarities of an ideal
legend. Death adds perfection to the most perfect man; it frees him
from all defect in the eyes of those who have loved him. With the wish
to paint the Master, there was also the desire to explain him. Many
anecdotes were conceived to prove that in him the prophecies regarded
as Messianic had had their accomplishment. But this procedure, of
which we must not deny the importance, would not suffice to explain
everything. No Jewish work of the time gives a series of prophecies
exactly declaring what the Messiah should accomplish. Many Messianic
allusions quoted by the evangelists are so subtle, so indirect, that
one cannot believe they all responded to a generally admitted
doctrine. Sometimes they reasoned thus: "The Messiah ought to do such
a thing; now Jesus is the Messiah; therefore Jesus has done such a
thing." At other times, by an inverse process, it was said: "Such a
thing has happened to Jesus; now Jesus is the Messiah; therefore such
a thing was to happen to the Messiah."[1] Too simple explanations are
always false when analyzing those profound creations of popular
sentiment which baffle all systems by their fullness and infinite
variety. It is scarcely necessary to say that, with such documents, in
order to present only what is indisputable, we must limit ourselves to
general features. In almost all ancient histories, even in those which
are much less legendary than these, details open up innumerable
doubts. When we have two accounts of the same fact, it is extremely
rare that the two accounts agree. Is not this a reason for
anticipating many difficulties when we have but one? We may say that
amongst the anecdotes, the discourses, the celebrated sayings which
have been given us by the historians, there is not one strictly
authentic. Were there stenographers to fix these fleeting words? Was
there an analyst always present to note the gestures, the manners, the
sentiments of the actors? Let any one endeavor to get at the truth as
to the way in which such or such contemporary fact has happened; he
will not succeed. Two accounts of the same event given by different
eye-witnesses differ essentially. Must we, therefore, reject all the
coloring of the narratives, and limit ourselves to the bare facts
only? That would be to suppress history. Certainly, I think that if we
except certain short and almost mnemonic axioms, none of the
discourses reported by Matthew are textual; even our stenographic
reports are scarcely so. I freely admit that the admirable account of
the Passion contains many trifling inaccuracies. Would it, however, be
writing the history of Jesus to omit those sermons which give to us in
such a vivid manner the character of his discourses, and to limit
ourselves to saying, with Josephus and Tacitus, "that he was put to
death by the order of Pilate at the instigation of the priests"? That
would be, in my opinion, a kind of inexactitude worse than that to
which we are exposed in admitting the details supplied by the texts.
These details are not true to the letter, but they are true with a
superior truth, they are more true than the naked truth, in the sense
that they are truth rendered expressive and articulate--truth
idealized.
[Footnote 1: See, for example, John xix. 23-24.]
I beg those who think that I have placed an exaggerated confidence in
narratives in great part legendary, to take note of the observation I
have just made. To what would the life of Alexander be reduced if it
were confined to that which is materially certain? Even partly
erroneous traditions contain a portion of truth which history cannot
neglect. No one has blamed M. Sprenger for having, in writing the life
of Mahomet, made much of the _hadith_ or oral traditions concerning
the prophet, and for often having attributed to his hero words which
are only known through this source. Yet the traditions respecting
Mahomet are not superior in historical value to the discourses and
narratives which compose the Gospels. They were written between the
year 50 and the year 140 of the Hegira. When the history of the Jewish
schools in the ages which immediately preceded and followed the birth
of Christianity shall be written, no one will make any scruple of
attributing to Hillel, Shammai, Gamaliel the maxims ascribed to them
by the _Mishnah_ and the _Gemara_, although these great compilations
were written many hundreds of years after the time of the doctors in
question.
As to those who believe, on the contrary, that history should consist
of a simple reproduction of the documents which have come down to us,
I beg to observe that such a course is not allowable. The four
principal documents are in flagrant contradiction one with another.
Josephus rectifies them sometimes. It is necessary to make a
selection. To assert that an event cannot take place in two ways at
once, or in an impossible manner, is not to impose an _à priori_
philosophy upon history. The historian ought not to conclude that a
fact is false because he possesses several versions of it, or because
credulity has mixed with them much that is fabulous. He ought in such
a case to be very cautious--to examine the texts, and to proceed
carefully by induction. There is one class of narratives especially,
to which this principle must necessarily be applied. Such are
narratives of supernatural events. To seek to explain these, or to
reduce them to legends, is not to mutilate facts in the name of
theory; it is to make the observation of facts our groundwork. None of
the miracles with which the old histories are filled took place under
scientific conditions. Observation, which has never once been
falsified, teaches us that miracles never happen but in times and
countries in which they are believed, and before persons disposed to
believe them. No miracle ever occurred in the presence of men capable
of testing its miraculous character. Neither common people nor men of
the world are able to do this. It requires great precautions and long
habits of scientific research. In our days have we not seen almost all
respectable people dupes of the grossest frauds or of puerile
illusions? Marvellous facts, attested by the whole population of small
towns, have, thanks to a severer scrutiny, been exploded.[1] If it is
proved that no contemporary miracle will bear inquiry, is it not
probable that the miracles of the past, which have all been performed
in popular gatherings, would equally present their share of illusion,
if it were possible to criticise them in detail?
[Footnote 1: See the _Gazette des Tribunaux_, 10th Sept. and 11th
Nov., 1851, 28th May, 1857.]
It is not, then, in the name of this or that philosophy, but in the
name of universal experience, that we banish miracle from history. We
do not say, "Miracles are impossible." We say, "Up to this time a
miracle has never been proved." If to-morrow a thaumaturgus present
himself with credentials sufficiently important to be discussed, and
announce himself as able, say, to raise the dead, what would be done?
A commission, composed of physiologists, physicists, chemists, persons
accustomed to historical criticism, would be named. This commission
would choose a corpse, would assure itself that the death was real,
would select the room in which the experiment should be made, would
arrange the whole system of precautions, so as to leave no chance of
doubt. If, under such conditions, the resurrection were effected, a
probability almost equal to certainty would be established. As,
however, it ought to be possible always to repeat an experiment--to do
over again what has been done once; and as, in the order of miracle,
there can be no question of ease or difficulty, the thaumaturgus would
be invited to reproduce his marvellous act under other circumstances,
upon other corpses, in another place. If the miracle succeeded each
time, two things would be proved: First, that supernatural events
happen in the world; second, that the power of producing them belongs,
or is delegated to, certain persons. But who does not see that no
miracle ever took place under these conditions? but that always
hitherto the thaumaturgus has chosen the subject of the experiment,
chosen the spot, chosen the public; that, besides, the people
themselves--most commonly in consequence of the invincible want to see
something divine in great events and great men--create the marvellous
legends afterward? Until a new order of things prevails, we shall
maintain then this principle of historical criticism--that a
supernatural account cannot be admitted as such, that it always
implies credulity or imposture, that the duty of the historian is to
explain it, and seek to ascertain what share of truth or of error it
may conceal.
Such are the rules which have been followed in the composition of
this work. To the perusal of documentary evidences I have been able to
add an important source of information--the sight of the places where
the events occurred. The scientific mission, having for its object the
exploration of ancient Phoenicia, which I directed in 1860 and
1861,[1] led me to reside on the frontiers of Galilee and to travel
there frequently. I have traversed, in all directions, the country of
the Gospels; I have visited Jerusalem, Hebron, and Samaria; scarcely
any important locality of the history of Jesus has escaped me. All
this history, which at a distance seems to float in the clouds of an
unreal world, thus took a form, a solidity, which astonished me. The
striking agreement of the texts with the places, the marvellous
harmony of the Gospel ideal with the country which served it as a
framework, were like a revelation to me. I had before my eyes a fifth
Gospel, torn, but still legible, and henceforward, through the
recitals of Matthew and Mark, in place of an abstract being, whose
existence might have been doubted, I saw living and moving an
admirable human figure. During the summer, having to go up to Ghazir,
in Lebanon, to take a little repose, I fixed, in rapid sketches, the
image which had appeared to me, and from them resulted this history.
When a cruel bereavement hastened my departure, I had but a few pages
to write. In this manner the book has been composed almost entirely
near the very places where Jesus was born, and where his character was
developed. Since my return, I have labored unceasingly to verify and
check in detail the rough sketch which I had written in haste in a
Maronite cabin, with five or six volumes around me.
[Footnote 1: The work which will contain the results of this mission
is in the press.]
Many will regret, perhaps, the biographical form which my work has
thus taken. When I first conceived the idea of a history of the origin
of Christianity, what I wished to write was, in fact, a history of
doctrines, in which men and their actions would have hardly had a
place. Jesus would scarcely have been named; I should have endeavored
to show how the ideas which have grown under his name took root and
covered the world. But I have learned since that history is not a
simple game of abstractions; that men are more than doctrines. It was
not a certain theory on justification and redemption which brought
about the Reformation; it was Luther and Calvin. Parseeism, Hellenism,
Judaism might have been able to have combined under every form; the
doctrines of the Resurrection and of the Word might have developed
themselves during ages without producing this grand, unique, and
fruitful fact, called Christianity. This fact is the work of Jesus, of
St. Paul, of St. John. To write the history of Jesus, of St. Paul, of
St. John is to write the history of the origin of Christianity. The
anterior movements belong to our subject only in so far as they serve
to throw light upon these extraordinary men, who naturally could not
have existed without connection with that which preceded them.
In such an effort to make the great souls of the past live again, some
share of divination and conjecture must be permitted. A great life is
an organic whole which cannot be rendered by the simple agglomeration
of small facts. It requires a profound sentiment to embrace them all,
moulding them into perfect unity. The method of art in a similar
subject is a good guide; the exquisite tact of a Goethe would know how
to apply it. The essential condition of the creations of art is, that
they shall form a living system of which all the parts are mutually
dependent and related.
In histories such as this, the great test that we have got the truth
is, to have succeeded in combining the texts in such a manner that
they shall constitute a logical, probable narrative, harmonious
throughout. The secret laws of life, of the progression of organic
products, of the melting of minute distinctions, ought to be consulted
at each moment; for what is required to be reproduced is not the
material circumstance, which it is impossible to verify, but the very
soul of history; what must be sought is not the petty certainty about
trifles, it is the correctness of the general sentiment, the
truthfulness of the coloring. Each trait which departs from the rules
of classic narration ought to warn us to be careful; for the fact
which has to be related has been living, natural, and harmonious. If
we do not succeed in rendering it such by the recital, it is surely
because we have not succeeded in seeing it aright. Suppose that, in
restoring the Minerva of Phidias according to the texts, we produced a
dry, jarring, artificial whole; what must we conclude? Simply that the
texts want an appreciative interpretation; that we must study them
quietly until they dovetail and furnish a whole in which all the parts
are happily blended. Should we then be sure of having a perfect
reproduction of the Greek statue? No; but at least we should not have
the caricature of it; we should have the general spirit of the
work--one of the forms in which it could have existed.
This idea of a living organism we have not hesitated to take as our
guide in the general arrangement of the narrative. The perusal of the
Gospels would suffice to prove that the compilers, although having a
very true plan of the _Life of Jesus_ in their minds, have not been
guided by very exact chronological data; Papias, besides, expressly
teaches this.[1] The expressions: "At this time ... after that ...
then ... and it came to pass ...," etc., are the simple transitions
intended to connect different narratives with each other. To leave all
the information furnished by the Gospels in the disorder in which
tradition supplies it, would only be to write the history of Jesus as
the history of a celebrated man would be written, by giving pell-mell
the letters and anecdotes of his youth, his old age, and of his
maturity. The Koran, which presents to us, in the loosest manner,
fragments of the different epochs in the life of Mahomet, has yielded
its secret to an ingenious criticism; the chronological order in which
the fragments were composed has been discovered so as to leave little
room for doubt. Such a rearrangement is much more difficult in the
case of the Gospels, the public life of Jesus having been shorter and
less eventful than the life of the founder of Islamism. Meanwhile, the
attempt to find a guiding thread through this labyrinth ought not to
be taxed with gratuitous subtlety. There is no great abuse of
hypothesis in supposing that a founder of a new religion commences by
attaching himself to the moral aphorisms already in circulation in his
time, and to the practices which are in vogue; that, when riper, and
in full possession of his idea, he delights in a kind of calm and
poetical eloquence, remote from all controversy, sweet and free as
pure feeling; that he warms by degrees, becomes animated by
opposition, and finishes by polemics and strong invectives. Such are
the periods which may plainly be distinguished in the Koran. The order
adopted with an extremely fine tact by the synoptics, supposes an
analogous progress. If Matthew be attentively read, we shall find in
the distribution of the discourses, a gradation perfectly analogous to
that which we have just indicated. The reserved turns of expression of
which we make use in unfolding the progress of the ideas of Jesus will
also be observed. The reader may, if he likes, see in the divisions
adopted in doing this, only the indispensable breaks for the
methodical exposition of a profound, complicated thought.
[Footnote 1: _Loc. cit._]
If the love of a subject can help one to understand it, it will also,
I hope, be recognized that I have not been wanting in this condition.
To write the history of a religion, it is necessary, firstly, to have
believed it (otherwise we should not be able to understand how it has
charmed and satisfied the human conscience); in the second place, to
believe it no longer in an absolute manner, for absolute faith is
incompatible with sincere history. But love is possible without faith.
To abstain from attaching one's self to any of the forms which
captivate the adoration of men, is not to deprive ourselves of the
enjoyment of that which is good and beautiful in them. No transitory
appearance exhausts the Divinity; God was revealed before Jesus--God
will reveal Himself after him. Profoundly unequal, and so much the
more Divine, as they are grander and more spontaneous, the
manifestations of God hidden in the depths of the human conscience are
all of the same order. Jesus cannot belong solely to those who call
themselves his disciples. He is the common honor of all who share a
common humanity. His glory does not consist in being relegated out of
history; we render him a truer worship in showing that all history is
incomprehensible without him.
LIFE OF JESUS
CHAPTER I.
PLACE OF JESUS IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD.
The great event of the History of the world is the revolution by which
the noblest portions of humanity have passed from the ancient
religions, comprised under the vague name of Paganism, to a religion
founded on the Divine Unity, the Trinity, and the Incarnation of the
Son of God. It has taken nearly a thousand years to accomplish this
conversion. The new religion had itself taken at least three hundred
years in its formation. But the origin of the revolution in question
with which we have to do is a fact which took place under the reigns
of Augustus and Tiberius. At that time there lived a superior
personage, who, by his bold originality, and by the love which he was
able to inspire, became the object and fixed the starting-point of the
future faith of humanity.
As soon as man became distinguished from the animal, he became
religious; that is to say, he saw in Nature something beyond the
phenomena, and for himself something beyond death. This sentiment,
during some thousands of years, became corrupted in the strangest
manner. In many races it did not pass beyond the belief in sorcerers,
under the gross form in which we still find it in certain parts of
Oceania. Among some, the religious sentiment degenerated into the
shameful scenes of butchery which form the character of the ancient
religion of Mexico. Amongst others, especially in Africa, it became
pure Fetichism, that is, the adoration of a material object, to which
were attributed supernatural powers. Like the instinct of love, which
at times elevates the most vulgar man above himself, yet sometimes
becomes perverted and ferocious, so this divine faculty of religion
during a long period seems only to be a cancer which must be
extirpated from the human race, a cause of errors and crimes which the
wise ought to endeavor to suppress.
The brilliant civilizations which were developed from a very remote
antiquity in China, in Babylonia, and in Egypt, caused a certain
progress to be made in religion. China arrived very early at a sort of
mediocre good sense, which prevented great extravagances. She neither
knew the advantages nor the abuses of the religious spirit. At all
events, she had not in this way any influence in directing the great
current of humanity. The religions of Babylonia and Syria were never
freed from a substratum of strange sensuality; these religions
remained, until their extinction in the fourth and fifth centuries of
our era, schools of immorality, in which at intervals glimpses of the
divine world were obtained by a sort of poetic intuition. Egypt,
notwithstanding an apparent kind of Fetichism, had very early
metaphysical dogmas and a lofty symbolism. But doubtless these
interpretations of a refined theology were not primitive. Man has
never, in the possession of a clear idea, amused himself by clothing
it in symbols: it is oftener after long reflections, and from the
impossibility felt by the human mind of resigning itself to the
absurd, that we seek ideas under the ancient mystic images whose
meaning is lost. Moreover, it is not from Egypt that the faith of
humanity has come. The elements which, in the religion of a Christian,
passing through a thousand transformations, came from Egypt and Syria,
are exterior forms of little consequence, or dross of which the most
purified worships always retain some portion. The grand defect of the
religions of which we speak was their essentially superstitious
character. They only threw into the world millions of amulets and
charms. No great moral thought could proceed from races oppressed by a
secular despotism, and accustomed to institutions which precluded the
exercise of individual liberty.
The poetry of the soul--faith, liberty, virtue, devotion--made their
appearance in the world with the two great races which, in one sense,
have made humanity, viz., the Indo-European and the Semitic races. The
first religious intuitions of the Indo-European race were essentially
naturalistic. But it was a profound and moral naturalism, a loving
embrace of Nature by man, a delicious poetry, full of the sentiment of
the Infinite--the principle, in fine, of all that which the Germanic
and Celtic genius, of that which a Shakespeare and a Goethe should
express in later times. It was neither theology nor moral
philosophy--it was a state of melancholy, it was tenderness, it was
imagination; it was, more than all, earnestness, the essential
condition of morals and religion. The faith of humanity, however,
could not come from thence, because these ancient forms of worships
had great difficulty in detaching themselves from Polytheism, and
could not attain to a very clear symbol. Brahminism has only survived
to the present day by virtue of the astonishing faculty of
conservation which India seems to possess. Buddhism failed in all its
approaches toward the West. Druidism remained a form exclusively
national, and without universal capacity. The Greek attempts at
reform, Orpheism, the Mysteries, did not suffice to give a solid
aliment to the soul. Persia alone succeeded in making a dogmatic
religion, almost Monotheistic, and skilfully organized; but it is very
possible that this organization itself was but an imitation, or
borrowed. At all events, Persia has not converted the world; she
herself, on the contrary, was converted when she saw the flag of the
Divine unity as proclaimed by Mohammedanism appear on her frontiers.
It is the Semitic race[1] which has the glory of having made the
religion of humanity. Far beyond the confines of history, resting
under his tent, free from the taint of a corrupted world, the Bedouin
patriarch prepared the faith of mankind. A strong antipathy against
the voluptuous worships of Syria, a grand simplicity of ritual, the
complete absence of temples, and the idol reduced to insignificant
_theraphim_, constituted his superiority. Among all the tribes of the
nomadic Semites, that of the Beni-Israel was already chosen for
immense destinies. Ancient relations with Egypt, whence perhaps
resulted some purely material ingredients, did but augment their
repulsion to idolatry. A "Law" or _Thora_, very anciently written on
tables of stone, and which they attributed to their great liberator
Moses, had become the code of Monotheism, and contained, as compared
with the institutions of Egypt and Chaldea, powerful germs of social
equality and morality. A chest or portable ark, having staples on each
side to admit of bearing poles, constituted all their religious
_matériel_; there were collected the sacred objects of the nation, its
relics, its souvenirs, and, lastly, the "book,"[2] the journal of the
tribe, always open, but which was written in with great discretion.
The family charged with bearing the ark and watching over the portable
archives, being near the book and having the control of it, very soon
became important. From hence, however, the institution which was to
control the future did not come. The Hebrew priest did not differ much
from the other priests of antiquity. The character which essentially
distinguishes Israel among theocratic peoples is, that its priesthood
has always been subordinated to individual inspiration. Besides its
priests, each wandering tribe had its _nabi_ or prophet, a sort of
living oracle who was consulted for the solution of obscure questions
supposed to require a high degree of clairvoyance. The _nabis_ of
Israel, organized in groups or schools, had great influence. Defenders
of the ancient democratic spirit, enemies of the rich, opposed to all
political organization, and to whatsoever might draw Israel into the
paths of other nations, they were the true authors of the religious
preeminence of the Jewish people. Very early they announced unlimited
hopes, and when the people, in part the victims of their impolitic
counsels, had been crushed by the Assyrian power, they proclaimed that
a kingdom without bounds was reserved for them, that one day Jerusalem
would be the capital of the whole world, and the human race become
Jews. Jerusalem and its temples appeared to them as a city placed on
the summit of a mountain, toward which all people should turn, as an
oracle whence the universal law should proceed, as the centre of an
ideal kingdom, in which the human race, set at rest by Israel, should
find again the joys of Eden.[3]
[Footnote 1: I remind the reader that this word means here simply the
people who speak or have spoken one of the languages called Semitic.
Such a designation is entirely defective; but it is one of those
words, like "Gothic architecture," "Arabian numerals," which we must
preserve to be understood, even after we have demonstrated the error
that they imply.]
[Footnote 2: I Sam. x. 25.]
[Footnote 3: Isa. ii. 1-4, and especially chaps. xl., and following,
lx., and following; Micah iv. 1, and following. It must be recollected
that the second part of the book of Isaiah, beginning at chap. xl., is
not by Isaiah.]
Mystical utterances already made themselves heard, tending to exalt
the martyrdom and celebrate the power of the "Man of Sorrows."
Respecting one of those sublime sufferers, who, like Jeremiah, stained
the streets of Jerusalem with their blood, one of the inspired wrote a
song upon the sufferings and triumph of the "servant of God," in which
all the prophetic force of the genius of Israel seemed
concentrated.[1] "For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant,
and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness. He
is despised and rejected of men; and we hid, as it were, our faces
from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath
borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him
stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our
transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of
our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we
like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way;
and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was
oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is
brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers
is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth. And he made his grave with the
wicked. When thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall
see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord
shall prosper in his hand."
[Footnote 1: Isa. lii. 13, and following, and liii. entirely.]
Important modifications were made at the same time in the _Thora_. New
texts, pretending to represent the true law of Moses, such as
Deuteronomy, were produced, and inaugurated in reality a very
different spirit from that of the old nomads. A marked fanaticism was
the dominant feature of this spirit. Furious believers unceasingly
instigated violence against all who wandered from the worship of
Jehovah--they succeeded in establishing a code of blood, making death
the penalty for religious faults. Piety brings, almost always,
singular contradictions of vehemence and mildness. This zeal, unknown
to the coarser simplicity of the time of the Judges, inspired tones of
moving prophecy and tender unction, which the world had never heard
till then. A strong tendency toward social questions already made
itself felt; Utopias, dreams of a perfect society, took a place in the
code. The Pentateuch, a mixture of patriarchal morality and ardent
devotion, primitive intuitions and pious subtleties, like those which
filled the souls of Hezekiah, of Josiah, and of Jeremiah, was thus
fixed in the form in which we now see it, and became for ages the
absolute rule of the national mind.
This great book once created, the history of the Jewish people
unfolded itself with an irresistible force. The great empires which
followed each other in Western Asia, in destroying its hope of a
terrestrial kingdom, threw it into religious dreams, which it
cherished with a kind of sombre passion. Caring little for the
national dynasty or political independence, it accepted all
governments which permitted it to practise freely its worship and
follow its usages. Israel will henceforward have no other guidance
than that of its religious enthusiasts, no other enemies than those of
the Divine unity, no other country than its Law.
And this Law, it must be remarked, was entirely social and moral. It
was the work of men penetrated with a high ideal of the present life,
and believing that they had found the best means of realizing it. The
conviction of all was, that the _Thora_, well observed, could not fail
to give perfect felicity. This _Thora_ has nothing in common with the
Greek or Roman "Laws," which, occupying themselves with scarcely
anything but abstract right, entered little into questions of private
happiness and morality. We feel beforehand that the results which will
proceed from it will be of a social, and not a political order, that
the work at which this people labors is a kingdom of God, not a civil
republic; a universal institution, not a nationality or a country.
Notwithstanding numerous failures, Israel admirably sustained this
vocation. A series of pious men, Ezra, Nehemiah, Onias, the Maccabees,
consumed with zeal for the Law, succeeded each other in the defense of
the ancient institutions. The idea that Israel was a holy people, a
tribe chosen by God and bound to Him by covenant, took deeper and
firmer root. An immense expectation filled their souls. All
Indo-European antiquity had placed paradise in the beginning; all its
poets had wept a vanished golden age. Israel placed the age of gold in
the future. The perennial poesy of religious souls, the Psalms,
blossomed from this exalted piety, with their divine and melancholy
harmony. Israel became truly and specially the people of God, while
around it the pagan religions were more and more reduced, in Persia
and Babylonia, to an official charlatanism, in Egypt and Syria to a
gross idolatry, and in the Greek and Roman world to mere parade. That
which the Christian martyrs did in the first centuries of our era,
that which the victims of persecuting orthodoxy have done, even in the
bosom of Christianity, up to our time, the Jews did during the two
centuries which preceded the Christian era. They were a living protest
against superstition and religious materialism. An extraordinary
movement of ideas, ending in the most opposite results, made of them,
at this epoch, the most striking and original people in the world.
Their dispersion along all the coast of the Mediterranean, and the use
of the Greek language, which they adopted when out of Palestine,
prepared the way for a propagandism, of which ancient societies,
divided into small nationalities, had never offered a single example.
Up to the time of the Maccabees, Judaism, in spite of its persistence
in announcing that it would one day be the religion of the human race,
had had the characteristic of all the other worships of antiquity, it
was a worship of the family and the tribe. The Israelite thought,
indeed, that his worship was the best, and spoke with contempt of
strange gods; but he believed also that the religion of the true God
was made for himself alone. Only when a man entered into the Jewish
family did he embrace the worship of Jehovah.[1] No Israelite cared to
convert the stranger to a worship which was the patrimony of the sons
of Abraham. The development of the pietistic spirit, after Ezra and
Nehemiah, led to a much firmer and more logical conception. Judaism
became the true religion in a more absolute manner; to all who wished,
the right of entering it was given;[2] soon it became a work of piety
to bring into it the greatest number possible.[3] Doubtless the
refined sentiment which elevated John the Baptist, Jesus, and St. Paul
above the petty ideas of race, did not yet exist; for, by a strange
contradiction, these converts were little respected and were treated
with disdain.[4] But the idea of a sovereign religion, the idea that
there was something in the world superior to country, to blood, to
laws--the idea which makes apostles and martyrs--was founded. Profound
pity for the pagans, however brilliant might be their worldly fortune,
was henceforth the feeling of every Jew.[5] By a cycle of legends
destined to furnish models of immovable firmness, such as the
histories of Daniel and his companions, the mother of the Maccabees
and her seven sons,[6] the romance of the race-course of
Alexandria[7]--the guides of the people sought above all to inculcate
the idea, that virtue consists in a fanatical attachment to fixed
religious institutions.
[Footnote 1: Ruth i. 16.]
[Footnote 2: Esther ix. 27.]
[Footnote 3: Matt. xxiii. 15; Josephus, _Vita_, 23; _B.J._, II. xvii.
10, VII. iii. 3; _Ant._, XX. ii. 4; Horat., Sat. I., iv., 143; Juv.,
xiv. 96, and following; Tacitus, _Ann._, II. 85; _Hist._, V. 5; Dion
Cassius, xxxvii. 17.]
[Footnote 4: Mishnah, _Shebiit_, X. 9; Talmud of Babylon, _Niddah_,
fol. 13 _b_; _Jebamoth_, 47 _b_, _Kiddushim_, 70 _b_; Midrash, _Jalkut
Ruth_, fol. 163 _d_.]
[Footnote 5: Apocryphal letter of Baruch, in Fabricius, _Cod. pseud.,
V.T._, ii., 147, and following.]
[Footnote 6: II. Book of Maccabees, ch. vii. and the _De Maccabæis_,
attributed to Josephus. Cf. Epistle to the Hebrews xi. 33, and
following.]
[Footnote 7: III. Book (Apocr.) of Maccabees; Rufin, Suppl. ad Jos.,
_Contra Apionem_, ii. 5.]
The persecutions of Antiochus Epiphanes made this idea a passion,
almost a frenzy. It was something very analogous to that which
happened under Nero, two hundred and thirty years later. Rage and
despair threw the believers into the world of visions and dreams. The
first apocalypse, "The Book of Daniel," appeared. It was like a
revival of prophecy, but under a very different form from the ancient
one, and with a much larger idea of the destinies of the world. The
Book of Daniel gave, in a manner, the last expression to the Messianic
hopes. The Messiah was no longer a king, after the manner of David and
Solomon, a theocratic and Mosaic Cyrus; he was a "Son of man"
appearing in the clouds[1]--a supernatural being, invested with human
form, charged to rule the world, and to preside over the golden age.
Perhaps the _Sosiosh_ of Persia, the great prophet who was to come,
charged with preparing the reign of Ormuzd, gave some features to this
new ideal.[2] The unknown author of the Book of Daniel had, in any
case, a decisive influence on the religious event which was about to
transform the world. He supplied the _mise-en-scène_, and the
technical terms of the new belief in the Messiah; and we might apply
to him what Jesus said of John the Baptist: Before him, the prophets;
after him, the kingdom of God.
[Footnote 1: Chap. vii. 13, and following.]
[Footnote 2: _Vendidad_, chap. xix. 18, 19; _Minokhired_, a passage
published in the "_Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenländischen
Gesellschaft_," chap. i. 263; _Boundehesch_, chap. xxxi. The want of
certain chronology for the Zend and Pehlvis texts leaves much doubt
hovering over the relations between the Jewish and Persian beliefs.]
It must not, however, be supposed that this profoundly religious and
soul-stirring movement had particular dogmas for its primary impulse,
as was the case in all the conflicts which have disturbed the bosom of
Christianity. The Jew of this epoch was as little theological as
possible. He did not speculate upon the essence of the Divinity; the
beliefs about angels, about the destinies of man, about the Divine
personality, of which the first germs might already be perceived, were
quite optional--they were meditations, to which each one surrendered
himself according to the turn of his mind, but of which a great number
of men had never heard. They were the most orthodox even, who did not
share in these particular imaginations, and who adhered to the
simplicity of the Mosaic law. No dogmatic power analogous to that
which orthodox Christianity has given to the Church then existed. It
was only at the beginning of the third century, when Christianity had
fallen into the hands of reasoning races, mad with dialectics and
metaphysics, that that fever for definitions commenced which made the
history of the Church but the history of one immense controversy.
There were disputes also among the Jews--excited schools brought
opposite solutions to almost all the questions which were agitated;
but in these contests, of which the Talmud has preserved the principal
details, there is not a single word of speculative theology. To
observe and maintain the law, because the law was just, and because,
when well observed, it gave happiness--such was Judaism. No _credo_,
no theoretical symbol. One of the disciples of the boldest Arabian
philosophy, Moses Maimonides, was able to become the oracle of the
synagogue, because he was well versed in the canonical law.
The reigns of the last Asmoneans, and that of Herod, saw the
excitement grow still stronger. They were filled by an uninterrupted
series of religious movements. In the degree that power became
secularized, and passed into the hands of unbelievers, the Jewish
people lived less and less for the earth, and became more and more
absorbed by the strange fermentation which was operating in their
midst. The world, distracted by other spectacles, had little knowledge
of that which passed in this forgotten corner of the East. The minds
abreast of their age were, however, better informed. The tender and
clear-sighted Virgil seems to answer, as by a secret echo, to the
second Isaiah. The birth of a child throws him into dreams of a
universal palingenesis.[1] These dreams were of every-day occurrence,
and shaped into a kind of literature which was designated Sibylline.
The quite recent formation of the empire exalted the imagination; the
great era of peace on which it entered, and that impression of
melancholy sensibility which the mind experiences after long periods
of revolution, gave birth on all sides to unlimited hopes.
[Footnote 1: Egl. iv. The _Cumæum carmen_ (v. 4) was a sort of
Sibylline apocalypse, borrowed from the philosophy of history familiar
to the East. See Servius on this verse, and _Carmina Sibyllina_, iii.
97-817; cf. Tac., _Hist._, v. 13.]
In Judea expectation was at its height. Holy persons--among whom may
be named the aged Simeon, who, legend tells us, held Jesus in his
arms; Anna, daughter of Phanuel, regarded as a prophetess[1]--passed
their life about the temple, fasting, and praying, that it might
please God not to take them from the world without having seen the
fulfillment of the hopes of Israel. They felt a powerful presentiment;
they were sensible of the approach of something unknown.
[Footnote 1: Luke ii. 25, and following.]
This confused mixture of clear views and dreams, this alternation of
deceptions and hopes, these ceaseless aspirations, driven back by an
odious reality, found at last their interpretation in the incomparable
man, to whom the universal conscience has decreed the title of Son of
God, and that with justice, since he has advanced religion as no other
has done, or probably ever will be able to do.