Chapter II

Strauss and the Hallucination Theory

IT has been well established by Paley, and indeed has seldom been denied,

that within a very few years of Christ’s crucifixion a large number of

people believed that he had risen from the dead. They believed that

after having suffered actual death he rose to actual life, as a man who

could eat and drink and talk, who could be seen and handled. Some who

held this were near relations of Christ, some had known him intimately

for a considerable time before his crucifixion, many must have known him

well by sight, but all were unanimous in their assertion that they had

seen him alive after he had been dead, and in consequence of this belief

they adopted a new mode of life, abandoning in many cases every other

earthly consideration save that of bearing witness to what they had known

and seen. I have not thought it worth while to waste time and space by

introducing actual proof of the above. This will be found in Paley’s

opening chapters, to which the reader is referred.

How then did this intensity of conviction come about? Differ as they

might and did upon many of the questions arising out of the main fact

which they taught, as to the fact itself they differed not in the least

degree. In their own life-time and in that of those who could confute

them their story gained the adherence of a very large and ever increasing

number. If it could be shewn that the belief in Christ’s reappearance

did not arise until after the death of those who were said to have seen

him, when actions and teachings might have been imputed to them which

were not theirs, the case would then be different; but this cannot be

done; there is nothing in history better established than that the men

who said that they had seen Christ alive after he had been dead, were

themselves the first to lay aside all else in order to maintain their

assertion. If it could be maintained that they taught what they did in

order to sanction laxity of morals, the case would again be changed. But

this too is impossible. They taught what they did because of the

intensity of their own conviction and from no other motive whatsoever.

What then can that thing have been which made these men so beyond all

measure and one-mindedly certain? Were they thus before the Crucifixion?

Far otherwise. Yet the men who fled in the hour of their master’s peril

betrayed no signs of flinching when their own was no less imminent. How

came it that the cowardice and fretfulness of the Gospels should be

transformed into the lion-hearted steadfastness of the Acts?

The Crucifixion had intervened. Yes, but surely something more than the

Crucifixion. Can we believe that if their experience of Christ had ended

with the Cross, the Apostles would have been in that state of mind which

should compel them to leave all else for the sake of preaching what he

had taught them? It is a hard thing for a man to change the scheme of

his life; yet this is not a case of one man but of many, who became

changed as if struck with an enchanter’s wand, and who, though many, were

as one in the vehemence with which they protested that their master had

reappeared to them alive. Their converse with Christ did not probably

last above a year or two, and was interrupted by frequent absence. If

Christ had died once and for all upon the Cross, Christianity must have

died with him; but it did not die; nay, it did not begin to live with

full energy until after its founder had been crucified. We must ask

again, what could that thing have been which turned these querulous and

faint-hearted followers into the most earnest and successful body of

propagandists which the world has ever seen, if it was not that which

they said it was—namely, that Christ had reappeared to them alive after

they had themselves known him to be dead? This would account for the

change in them, but is there anything else that will?

They had such ample opportunities of knowing the truth that the

supposition of mistake is fraught with the greatest difficulties; they

gave such guarantees of sincerity as that none have given greater; their

unanimity is perfect; there is not the faintest trace of any difference

of opinion amongst them as to the main fact of the Resurrection. These

are things which never have been and never can be denied, but if they do

not form strong _primâ facie_ ground for believing in the truth and

actuality of Christ’s Resurrection, what is there which will amount to a

_primâ facie_ case for anything whatever?

Nevertheless the matter does not rest here. While there exists the

faintest possibility of mistake we may be sure that we shall deal most

wisely by examining its character and value. Let us inquire therefore

whether there are any circumstances which seem to indicate that the early

Christians might have been mistaken, and been firmly persuaded that they

had seen Christ alive, although in point of fact they had not really seen

him? Men have been very positive and very sincere about things wherein

we should have conceived mistake impossible, and yet they have been

utterly mistaken. A strong predisposition, a rare coincidence, an

unwonted natural phenomenon, a hundred other causes, may turn sound

judgments awry, and we dare not assume forthwith that the first disciples

of Christ were superior to influences which have misled many who have had

better chances of withstanding them. Visions and hallucinations are not

uncommon even now. How easily belief in a supernatural occurrence

obtains among the peasantry of Italy, Ireland, Belgium, France, and

Spain; and how much more easily would it do so among Jews in the days of

Christ, when belief in supernatural interferences with this world’s

economy was, so to speak, omnipresent. Means of communication, that is

to say of verification, were few, and the tone of men’s minds as regards

accuracy of all kinds was utterly different from that of our own; science

existed not even in name as the thing we now mean by it; few could read

and fewer write, so that a story could seldom be confined to its original

limits; error, therefore, had much chance and truth little as compared

with our own times. What more is needed to make us feel how possible it

was for the purest and most honest of men to become parents of all

fallacy?

Strauss believes this to have been the case. He supposes that the

earliest Christians were under hallucination when they thought that they

had seen Christ alive after his Crucifixion; in other words, that they

never saw him at all, but only thought that they had done so. He does

not imagine that they conceived this idea at once, but that it grew up

gradually in the course of a few years, and that those who came under its

influence antedated it unconsciously afterwards. He appears to believe

that within a few months of the Crucifixion, and in consequence of some

unexplained combination of internal and external causes, some one of the

Apostles came to be impressed with the notion that he had seen Christ

alive; the impression, however made, was exceedingly strong, and was

communicated as soon as might be to some other or others of the Apostles:

the idea was welcome—as giving life to a hope which had been fondly

cherished; each inflamed the imagination of the other, until the original

basis of the conception slipped unconsciously from recollection, while

the intensity of the conviction itself became stronger and stronger the

more often the story was repeated. Strauss supposes that on seeing the

firm conviction of two or three who had hitherto been leaders among them,

the other Apostles took heart, and that thus the body grew together again

perhaps within a twelve-month of the Crucifixion. According to him, the

idea of the Resurrection having been once started, and having once taken

root, the soil was so congenial that it grew apace; the rest of the

Apostles, perhaps assembled together in a high state of mental enthusiasm

and excitement, conceived that they saw Christ enter the room in which

they were sitting and afford some manifest proof of life and identity; or

some one else may have enlarged a less extraordinary story to these

dimensions, so that in a short time it passed current everywhere (there

have been instances of delusions quite as extraordinary gaining a

foothold among men whose sincerity is not to be disputed), and finally

they conceived that these appearances of their master had commenced a few

months—and what is a few months?—earlier than they actually had, so that

the first appearance was soon looked upon as having been vouchsafed

within three days of the Crucifixion.

The above is not in Strauss’s words, but it is a careful _résumé_ of what

I gather to be his conception of the origin of the belief in the

Resurrection of Christ. The belief, and the intensity of the belief,

need explanation; the supernatural explanation, as we should ourselves

readily admit, cannot be accepted unless all others are found wanting; he

therefore, if I understand him rightly, puts forward the above as being a

reasonable and natural solution of the difficulty—the only solution which

does not fail upon examination, and therefore the one which should be

accepted. It is founded upon the affection which the Apostles had borne

towards their master, and their unwillingness to give up their hope that

they had been chosen, as the favoured lieutenants of the promised

Messiah.

No man would be willing to give up such hope easily; all men would

readily welcome its renewal; it was easy in the then intellectual

condition of Palestine for hallucination to originate, and still easier

for it to spread; the story touched the hearts of men too nearly to

render its propagation difficult. Men and women like believing in the

marvellous, for it brings the chance of good fortune nearer to their own

doors; but how much more so when they are themselves closely connected

with the central figure of the marvel, and when it appears to give a clue

to the solution of that mystery which all would pry into if they

could—our future after death? There can be no great cause for wonder

that an hallucination which arose under such conditions as these should

have gained ground and conquered all opposition, even though its origin

may be traced to the brain of but a single person.

He would be a bold man who should say that this was impossible;

nevertheless it cannot be accepted. For, in the first place, we collect

most certainly from the Gospel records that the Apostles were _not_ a

compact and devoted body of adherents at the time of the Crucifixion; yet

it is hard to see how Strauss’s hallucination theory can be accepted,

unless this was the case. If Strauss believed the earliest followers of

Christ to have been already immovably fixed in their belief that he was

the Son of God—the promised Messiah, of whom they were themselves the

especially chosen ministers—if he considered that they believed in their

master as the worker of innumerable miracles which they had themselves

witnessed; as one whom they had seen raise others from death to life, and

whom, therefore, death could not be expected to control—if he held the

followers of Christ to have been in this frame of mind at the time of the

Crucifixion, it might be intelligible that he should suppose the strength

of their faith to have engendered an imaginary reappearance in order to

save them from the conclusion that their hopes had been without

foundation; that, in point of fact, they should have accepted a new

delusion in order to prop up an old one; but we know very well that

Strauss does not accept this position. He denies that the Apostles had

seen any miracles; independently therefore of the many and unmistakable

traces of their having been but partial and wavering adherents, which

have made it a matter of common belief among those who have studied the

New Testament that the faith of the Apostles was unsteadfast before the

Crucifixion, he must have other and stronger reasons for thinking that

this was so, inasmuch as he does not look upon them as men who had seen

our Lord raise any one from the dead, nor restore the eyes of the blind.

According to him, they may have seen Christ exercise unusual power over

the insane, and temporary alleviations of sickness, due perhaps to mental

excitement, may have taken place in their presence and passed for

miracles; he would doubt how far they had even seen this much, for he

would insist on many passages in the Gospels which would point in the

direction of our Lord’s never having professed to work a single miracle;

but even though he granted that they had seen certain extraordinary cases

of healing, there is no amount of testimony which would for a moment

satisfy him of their having seen more. _We_ see the Apostles as men who

before the Crucifixion had seen Lazarus raised from death to life after

the corruption of the grave had begun its work, and who had seen sight

given to one that had been born sightless; as men who had seen miracle

after miracle, with every loophole for escape from a belief in the

miraculous carefully excluded; who had seen their master walking upon the

sea, and bidding the winds be still; our difficulty therefore is to

understand the incredulity of the Apostles as displayed abundantly in the

Gospels; but Strauss can have none such; for he must see them as men over

whom the influence of their master had been purely personal, and due to

nothing more than to a strength and beauty of character which his

followers very imperfectly understood. _He_ does not believe that

Lazarus was raised at all, or that the man who had been born blind ever

existed; he considers the fourth gospel, which alone records these

events, to be the work of a later age, and not to be depended on for

facts, save here and there; certainly not where the facts recorded are

miraculous. He must therefore be even more ready than we are to admit

that the faith of the Apostles was weak before the Crucifixion; but

whether he is or not, we have it on the highest authority that their

faith was not strong enough to maintain them at the very first approach

of danger, nor to have given them any hope whatever that our Lord should

rise again; whereas for Strauss’s theory to hold good, it must already

have been in a white heat of enthusiasm.

But even granting that this was so—in the face of all the evidence we can

reach—men so honest and sincere as the Apostles proved themselves to be,

would have taken other ground than the assertion that their master had

reappeared to them alive, unless some very extraordinary occurrences had

led them to believe that they had indeed seen him. If their faith was

glowing and intense at the time of the Crucifixion—so intense that they

believed in Christ as much, or nearly as much, after the Crucifixion as

before it (and unless this were so the hallucinations could never have

arisen at all, or at any rate could never have been so unanimously

accepted)—it would have been so intense as to stand in no need of a

reappearance. In this case, if they had found that their master did not

return to them, the Apostles would probably have accepted the position

that he had, contrary to their expectation, been put to a violent death;

they would, perhaps, have come sooner or later to the conclusion that he

was immediately on death received into Heaven, and was sitting on the

right hand of God; while some extraordinary dream might have been

construed into a revelation of the fact with the manner of its

occurrence, and been soon generally believed; but the idea of our Lord’s

return to earth in a gross material body whereon the wounds were still

unhealed, was perhaps the last thing that would have suggested itself to

them by way of hallucination. If their faith had been great enough, and

their spirits high enough to have allowed hallucination to originate at

all, their imagination would have presented them at once with a glorious

throne, and the splendours of the highest Heaven as appearing through the

opened firmament; it would not surely have rested satisfied with a man

whose hands and side were wounded, and who could eat of a piece of

broiled fish and of an honeycomb. A fabric so utterly baseless as the

reappearances of our Lord (on the supposition of their being unhistoric)

would have been built of gaudier materials. To repeat, it seems

impossible that the Apostles should have attempted to connect their

hallucinations circumstantially and historically with the events which

had immediately preceded them. Hallucination would have been conscious

of a hiatus and not have tried to bridge it over. It would not have

developed the idea of our Lord’s return to this grovelling and unworthy

earth prior to his assumption into glory, unless those who were under its

influence had either seen other resurrections from the dead—in which case

there is no difficulty attaching to the Resurrection of our Lord

himself—or been forced into believing it by the evidence of their own

senses; this, on the supposition that the devotion of the first disciples

was intense before the Crucifixion; but if, on the other hand, they were

at that time anything but steadfast, as both _a priori_ and _a

posteriori_ evidence would seem to indicate, if they were few and

wavering, and if what little faith they had was shaken to its foundations

and apparently at an end for ever with the death of Christ, it becomes

indeed difficult to see how the idea of his return to earth alive could

have ever struck even a single one of them, much less that hallucinations

which could have had no origin but in the disordered brain of some one

member of the Apostolic body, should in a short time have been accepted

by all as by one man without a shadow of dissension, and been strong

enough to convert them, as was said above, into the most earnest and

successful body of propagandists that the world has ever seen.

Truly this is not too much to say of them; and yet we are asked to

believe that this faith, so intensely energetic, grew out of one which

can hardly be called a faith at all, in consequence of day-dreams whose

existence presupposes a faith hardly if any less intense than that which

it is supposed to have engendered. Are we not warranted in asserting

that a movement which is confined to a few wavering followers, and which

receives any very decisive check, which scatters and demoralises the few

who have already joined it, will be absolutely sure to die a speedy

natural death unless something utterly strange and new occurs to give it

a fresh impetus? Such a resuscitating influence would have been given to

the Christian religion by the reappearance of Christ alive. This would

meet the requirements of the case, for we can all feel that if we had

already half believed in some gifted friend as a messenger from God, and

if we had seen that friend put to death before our eyes, and yet found

that the grave had no power over him, but that he could burst its bonds

and show himself to us again unmistakably alive, we should from that

moment yield ourselves absolutely his; but our faith would die with him

unless it had been utter before his death.

The devotion of the Apostles is explained by their belief in the

Resurrection, but their belief in the Resurrection is not explained by a

supposed hallucination; for their minds were not in that state in which

alone such a delusion could establish itself firmly, and unless it were

established firmly by the most apparently irrefragable evidence of many

persons, it would have had no living energy. How an hallucination could

occur in the requisite strength to the requisite number of people is

neither explained nor explicable, except upon the supposition that the

Apostles were in a very different frame of mind at the time of Christ’s

Crucifixion from that which all the evidence we can get would seem to

indicate. If Strauss had first made this point clear we could follow

him. But he has not done so.

Strauss says, the conception that Christ’s body had been reawakened and

changed, “a double miracle, exceeding far what had occurred in the case

of Enoch and Elijah, could only be credible to one who saw in him a

prophet far superior to them”—_i.e._, to one who notwithstanding his

death was persuaded that he was the Messiah: “this conviction” (that a

double miracle had been performed) “was the first to which the Apostles

had to attain in the days of their humiliation after the Crucifixion.”

Yes—but how were they to attain to it, being now utterly broken down and

disillusioned? Strauss admits that before they could have come to hold

what he supposes them to have held, they must have seen in Christ even

after his Crucifixion a prophet far greater than either Moses or Elias;

whereas in point of fact it is very doubtful whether they ever believed

this much of their master even before the Crucifixion, and hardly

questionable that after it they disbelieved in him almost entirely, until

he shewed himself to them alive. Is it possible that from the dead

embers of so weak a faith, so vast a conflagration should have been

kindled?

I submit, therefore, that independently of any direct evidence as to the

when and where of Christ’s reappearances, the fact that the Apostles

before the Crucifixion were irresolute, and after it unspeakably

resolute, affords strong ground for believing that they must have seen

something, or come to know something, which to their minds was utterly

overwhelming in its convincing power: when we find the earliest and most

trustworthy records unanimously asserting that that something was the

reappearance of Christ alive, we feel that such a reappearance was an

adequate cause for the result actually produced; and when we think over

the condition of mind which both probability and evidence assign to the

Apostles, we also feel that no other circumstance would have been

adequate, nor even this unless the proof had been such as none could

reasonably escape from.

Again, Strauss’s supposition that the Apostles antedated their

hallucinations suggests no less difficulty. Suppose that, after all,

Strauss is right, and that there was no actual reappearance; whatever it

was that led the Apostles to believe in such reappearance must have been,

judging by its effect, intense and memorable: it must have been as a

shock obliterating everything save the memory of itself and the things

connected with it: the time and manner of such a shock could never have

been forgotten, nor misplaced without deliberate intention to deceive,

and no one will impute any such intention to the Apostles.

It may be said that if they were capable of believing in the reality of

their visions they would be also capable of antedating them; this is

true; but the double supposition of self-delusion, first in seeing the

visions at all, and then in unconsciously antedating them, reduces the

Apostles to such an exceedingly low level of intelligence and

trustworthiness, that no good and permanent work could come from such

persons; the men who could be weak enough, and crazed enough, if the

reader will pardon the expression, to do as Strauss suggests, could never

have carried their work through in the way they did. Such men would have

wrecked their undertaking a hundred times over in the perils which

awaited it upon every side; they would have become victims of their own

fancies and desires, with little or no other grounds than these for any

opinions they might hold or teach: from such a condition of mind they

must have gone on to one still worse; and their tenets would have

perished with them, if not sooner.

Again, as regards this antedating; unless the visions happened at once,

it is inconceivable that they should have happened at all. Strauss

believes that the disciples fled in their first terror to their homes:

that when there, “outside the range to which the power of the enemies and

murderers of their master extended, the spell of terror and consternation

which had been laid upon their minds gave way,” and that under the

circumstances a reaction up to the point at which they might have visions

of Christ is capable of explanation. The answer to this is that it is

indeed likely that the spell of terror would give way when they found

themselves safe at home, but that it is not at all likely that any

reaction would take place in favour of one to whom their allegiance had

never been thorough, and whom they supposed to have met with a violent

and accursed end. It might be easy to imagine such a reaction if we did

not also attempt to imagine the circumstances that must have preceded it;

the moment we try to do this, we find it to be an impossibility. If once

the Apostles had been dispersed, and had returned home to their former

avocations without having seen or heard anything of their master’s return

to earth, all their expectations would have been ended; they would have

remained peaceable fishermen for the rest of their lives, and been cured

once and for ever of their enthusiasm.

Can we believe that the disciples, returning to Galilee in fear, and

bereaved of that master mind which had kept them from falling out with

one another, would have remained a united and enthusiastic body? Strauss

admits that their enthusiasm was for the time ended. Is it then likely

that they would have remained in any sense united, or is it not much more

likely that they would have shunned each other and disliked allusions to

the past? What but Christ’s actual reappearance could rekindle this dead

enthusiasm, and fan it to such a burning heat? Suppose that one or two

disciples recovered faith and courage, the majority would never do so.

If Christ himself with the magic of his presence could not weld them into

a devoted and harmonious company, would the rumour arising at a later

time that some one had seen him after death, be acceptable enough to make

the others believe that they too had actually seen and handled him?

Perhaps—if the rumour was believed. But _would_ it have been believed?

Or at any rate have been believed so utterly?

We cannot think it. For the belief and assertion are absolutely without

trace of dissent within the Christian body, and that body was in the

first instance composed entirely of the very persons who had known and

followed Christ before the Crucifixion. If some of the original twelve

had remained aloof and disputed the reappearances of Christ, is it

possible that no trace of such dissension should appear in the Epistles

of St. Paul? Paul differed widely enough from those who were Apostles

before him, and his language concerning them is occasionally that of

ill-concealed contempt and hatred rather than of affection; but is there

a word or hint which would seem to indicate that a single one of those

who had the best means of knowing doubted the Resurrection? There is

nothing of the kind; on the contrary, whatever we find is such as to make

us feel perfectly sure that none of them _did_ doubt it. Is it then

possible that this unanimity should have sprung from the original

hallucinations of a small minority? True—it is plain from the Epistle to

the Corinthians that there were some of Paul’s contemporaries who denied

the Resurrection. But who were they? We should expect that many among

the more educated Gentile converts would throw doubt upon so stupendous a

miracle, but is there anything which would point in the direction of

these doubts having been held within the original body of those who said

that they had seen Christ alive? By the eleven, or by the five hundred

who saw him at once? There is not one single syllable. Those who heard

the story second-hand would doubtless some of them attempt to explain

away its miraculous character, but if it had been founded on

hallucination it is not from these alone that the doubts would have come.

Something is imperatively demanded in order to account for the intensity

of conviction manifested by the earliest Christians shortly after the

Crucifixion; for until that time they were far from being firmly

convinced, and the Crucifixion was the very last thing to have convinced

them. Given (to speak of our Lord as he must probably appear to Strauss)

an unusually gifted teacher of a noble and beautiful character: given

also, a small body of adherents who were inclined to adopt him as their

master and to regard him as the coming liberator, but who were

nevertheless far from settled in their conviction: given such a man and

such followers: the teacher is put to a shameful death about two years

after they had first known him, and the followers forsake him instantly:

surely without his reappearing in some way upon the scene they would have

concluded that their doubts had been right and their hopes without

foundation: but if he reappeared, their faith would, for the first time,

become intense, all-absorbing. Surely also they might be trusted to know

whether they had really seen their master return to them or not, and not

to sacrifice themselves in every way, and spend their whole lives in

bearing testimony to pure hallucination?

There is one other point on which a few words will be necessary, before

we proceed to the arguments in favour of the objective character of

Christ’s Resurrection as derivable from the conversion and testimony of

St. Paul. It is this. Strauss and those who agree with him will perhaps

maintain that the Apostles were in truth wholly devoted to Christ before

the Crucifixion, but that the Evangelists have represented them as being

only half-hearted, in order to heighten the effect of their subsequent

intense devotion. But this looks like falling into the very error which

Rationalists condemn most loudly when it comes from so-called orthodox

writers. They complain, and with too much justice, that our apologists

have made “anything out of anything.” Yet if the Apostles were not

unsteadfast, and did not desert their master in his hour of peril, and if

all the accounts of Christ’s reappearances are the creations of

disordered fancy, we may as well at once declare the Evangelists to be

worthless as historians, and had better give up all attempt at the

construction of history with their assistance. We cannot take whatever

we wish, and leave whatever we wish, and alter whatever we wish. If we

admit that upon the whole the Gospel writings or at any rate the first

three Gospels, contain a considerable amount of historic matter, we

should also arrive at some general principles by which we will

consistently abide in separating the historic from the unhistoric. We

cannot deal with them arbitrarily, accepting whatever fits in with our

fancies, and rejecting whatever is at variance with them.

Now can it be maintained that the Evangelists would be so likely to

overrate the half-heartedness of the Apostles, that we should look with

suspicion upon the many and very plain indications of their having been

only half-hearted? Certainly not. If there was any likelihood of a

tendency one way or the other it would be in the direction of overrating

their faith. Would not the unbelief of the Apostles in the face of all

the recorded miracles be a most damaging thing in the eyes of the

unconverted? Would not the Apostles themselves, after they were once

firmly convinced, be inclined to think that they had from the first

believed more firmly than they really had done? This at least would be

in accordance with the natural promptings of human instinct: we are all

of us apt to be wise after the event, and are far more prone to dwell

upon things which seem to give some colour to a pretence of prescience,

than upon those which force from us a confession of our own stupidity.

It might seem a damaging thing that the Apostles should have doubted as

much as long as they clearly did; would then the Evangelists go out of

their way to introduce more signs of hesitation? Would any one suggest

that the signs of doubt and wavering had been overrated, unless there

were some theory or other to be supported, in order to account for which

this overrating was necessary? Would the opinion that the want of faith

had been exaggerated arise prior to the formation of a theory, or

subsequently? This is the fairest test; let the reader apply it for

himself.

On the other hand, there are many reasons which should incline us to

believe that, before the Resurrection, the Apostles were less convinced

than is generally supposed, but it would be dangerous to depart either to

the right hand or to the left of that which we find actually recorded,

namely, that in the main the Apostles were prepared to accept Christ

before the Crucifixion, but that they were by no means resolute and

devoted followers. I submit that this is a fair rendering of the spirit

of what we find in the Gospels. It is just because Strauss has chosen to

depart from it that he has found himself involved in the maze of

self-contradiction through which we have been trying to follow him.

There is no position so absurd that it cannot be easily made to look

plausible, if the strictly scientific method of investigation is once

departed from.

But if I had been in Strauss’s place, and had wished to make out a case

against Christianity without much heed of facts, I should not have done

it by a theory of hallucinations. A much prettier, more novel and more

sensational opening for such an attempt is afforded by an attack upon the

Crucifixion itself. A very neat theory might be made, that there may

have been some disturbance at one of the Jewish passovers, during which

some persons were crucified as an example by the Romans: that during this

time Christ happened to be missing; that he reappeared, and finally

departed, whither, no man can say: that the Apostles, after his last

disappearance, remembering that he had been absent during the tumult,

little by little worked themselves up into the belief that on his

reappearance they had seen wounds upon him, and that the details of the

Crucifixion were afterwards revealed in a vision to some favoured

believer, until in the course of a few years the narrative assumed its

present shape: that then the reappearance of Christ was denied among the

Jews, while the Crucifixion as attaching disgrace to him was not

disputed, and that it thus became so generally accepted as to find its

way into Pliny and Josephus. This tissue of absurdity may serve as an

example of what the unlicensed indulgence of theory might lead to; but

truly it would be found quite as easy of belief as that the early

Christian faith in the Resurrection was due to hallucination only.

Considering, then, that Christianity was not crushed but overran the most

civilised portions of the world; that St. Paul was undoubtedly early

told, in such a manner as for him to be thoroughly convinced of the fact,

that on some few but sufficient occasions Christ was seen alive after he

had been crucified; that the general belief in the reappearance of our

Lord was so strong that those who had the best means of judging gave up

all else to preach it, with a unanimity and singleness of purpose which

is irreconcilable with hallucination; that all our records most

definitely insist upon this belief and that there is no trace of its ever

having been disputed among the Jewish Christians, it seems hard to see

how we can escape from admitting that Jesus Christ was crucified, dead,

and buried, and yet that he was verily and indeed seen alive again by

those who expected nothing less, but who, being once convinced, turned

the whole world after them.

It is now incumbent upon us to examine the testimony of St. Paul, to

which I would propose to devote a separate chapter.

The Fair Haven · 第 2 / 10 章