whose perversion of power we lament, who have bewildered themselves by
really deep meditation on inexplicable mysteries; who demand certainty
where certainty is not given to man, or demand for truths which are
established by sufficient evidence, other evidence than those truths
will admit. We can even painfully sympathise in that ordeal of doubt
which such powerful minds are peculiarly exposed--with their Titanic
struggles against the still mightier power of Him who has said to the
turbulent intellect of man, as well as to the stormy ocean 'Hitherto
shalt thou come, but no farther,--and here shall thy proud waves be
staid.' We cannot wish better to any such agitated mind than that it may
listen to those potent and majestic words: 'Peace--be still!' uttered
by the voice of Him who so suddenly hushed the billows of the Galilean
lake.
But we are at the same time fully convinced that in our day there are
thousands of youths who are falling into the same errors and perils
from sheer vanity and affectation; who admire most what they least
understand, and adopt all the obscurities and paradoxes they stumble
upon, as a cheap path to a reputation for profundity; who awkwardly
imitate the manner and retail the phrases of the writers they
study; and, as usual, exaggerate to caricature their least agreeable
eccentricities. We should think that some of these more powerful
minds must be by this time ashamed of that ragged regiment of shallow
thinkers, and obscure writers and talkers who at present infest our
literature, and whose parrot-like repetition of their own stereotyped
phraseology, mingled with some barbarous infusion of half Anglicised
German, threatens to form as odious a cant as ever polluted the stream
of thought or disfigured the purity of language. Happily it is not
likely to be more than a passing fashion; but still it is a very
unpleasant fashion while it lasts. As in Johnson's day, every
young writer imitated as well as he could the ponderous diction and
everlasting antitheses of the great dictator as in Byron's day, there
were thousands to whom the world 'was a blank' at twenty or thereabouts,
and of whose dark imaginings,' as Macaulay says, the waste was
prodigious; so now there are hundreds of dilettanti pantheists', mystics
and sceptics to whom everything is a 'sham,' an 'unreality'; Who tell
us that the world stands in need of a great 'prophet,' a seer,' a 'true
prophet', a large soul,' a god-like soul,'*--who shall dive into 'the
depths of the human consciousness,' and whose 'utterances' shall
rouse the human mind from the 'cheats and frauds' which have hitherto
everywhere practised on its simplicity. The tell us, in relation to
philosophy, religion, and especially in relation to Christianity,
that all that has been believed by mankind has been believed only on
'empirical' grounds; and that the old answers to difficulties will do
no longer. They shake their sage heads at such men as Clarke, Paley,
Butler, and declare that such arguments as theirs will not satisfy
them.,--We are glad to admit that all this vague pretension is now
but rarely displayed with the scurrilous spirit of that elder unbelief
against which the long series of British apologists for Christianity
arose between 1700 and 1750; But there is often in it an arrogance
as real, though not in so offensive a form. Sometimes the spirit
of unbelief even assumes an air of sentimental regret at its own
inconvenient profundity. Many a worthy youth tells us he almost wishes
he could believe. He admires, of all things, the 'moral grandeur'--the
'ethical beauty' of many parts of Christianity; he condescends to
patronize Jesus Christ, though he believes that the great mass of
words and actions by which alone we know anything about him, are sheer
fictions or legends; he believes--gratuitously enough in this instance,
for he has no ground for it--that Jesus Christ was a very 'great man'
worthy of comparison at least with Mahomet, Luther, Napoleon, and 'other
heroes'; he even admits that happiness of a simple, child-like faith, in
the puerilities of Christianity--it produces such content of mind! But
alas! he cannot believe--his intellect is not satisfied--he has revolved
the matter too profoundly to be thus taken in; he must, he supposes,
(and our beardless philosopher sighs as he says it) bear the penalty of
a too restless intellect, and a too speculative genius; he knows all
the usual arguments which satisfied Pascal, Butler, Bacon, Leibnitz; but
they will do no longer: more radical, more tremendous difficulties
have suggested themselves, 'from the 'depths of philosophy,' and far
different answers are required now!+
____
* Foxton's last chapter, passim, from some expressions one would almost
imagine that our author himself aspired to be, if not the Messiah, at
least the Elias, of this new dispensation. We fear, however, that this
'vox clamantis' would reverse the Baptist's proclamation, and would cry,
'The straight shall be made crooked. and the plain places rough.' +
We fear that many young minds in our day are exposed to the danger
of falling into one or other of the prevailing forms of unbelief, and
especially into that of pantheistic mysticism--from rashly meditating
in the cloudy regions of German philosophy--on difficulties which would
seem beyond the limits of human reason, but which that philosophy too
often promises to solve--with what success we may see from the rapid
succession and impenetrable obscurities of its various systems. Alas!
when will men learn that one of the highest achievements of philosophy
is to know when it is vain to philosophise. When the obscure principles
of these most uncouth philosophies, expressed, we verily believe, in the
darkest language ever used by civilised man, are applied to the solution
of the problems of theology and ethics, no wonder that the natural
consequence, as well as just retribution, of such temerity is a
plunge into tenfold night. Systems of German philosophy may perhaps be
advantageously studied by those who are mature enough to study them; but
that they have an incomparable power of intoxicating the intellect of
the young aspirant to their mysteries, is, we think, undeniable. They
are producing the effect just now in a multitude of our juveniles,
who are beclouding themselves in the vain attempt to comprehend
ill-translated fragments of ill-understood philosophies, (executed in a
sort of Anglicised-German, or Germanised-English, we know not which to
call it, but certainly neither German nor English,) from the perusal of
which they carry away nothing but some very obscure terms, on which they
themselves have superinduced a very vague meaning. These terms you in
vain implore them to define; or, if they define them, they define
them in terms which as much need definition. Heartily do we wish that
Socrates would reappear amongst us, to exercise his accoucheur's art on
these hapless Theaetetuses and Menos of our day! Many such youths might
no doubt reply at first to the sarcastic Querist, (who might gently
complain of a slight cloudiness in their speculations.) that the truths
they uttered were too profound for ordinary reasoners. We may easily
imagine how Socrates would have dealt with such assumptions. His reply
would be rather more severe than that of Mackintosh to Coleridge in a
somewhat similar case; namely, that if a notion cannot be made clear to
persons who have spent the better part of their days in resolving the
difficulties of metaphysics and philosophy, and who are conscious
that they are not destitute of patience for the effort requisite to
understand them, it may suggest a doubt whether the truth be not in the
medium of communication rather than elsewhere; and, indeed, whether the
philosopher be not aiming to communicate thoughts on subjects on which
man can have no thoughts to communicate. Socrates would add, perhaps,
that language was given us to express, not to conceal our thoughts; and
that, if they cannot be communicated, invaluable as they doubtless are,
we had better keep them to ourselves; one thing it is clear he would
do,--he would insist on precise defintions. But in truth it may be more
than surmised that the obscurities of which all complain, except
those (and in our day they are not a few) to whom obscurity is a
recommendation, result from suffering the intellect to speculate in
realms forbidden to its access; into caverns of tremendous depth and
darkness, with nothing better than our own rushlight. Surely we have
reason to suspect as much when some learned professor, after muttering
his logical incantations, and conjuring with his logical formulae,
surprises you by saying, that he has disposed of the great mysteries of
existence and the universe, and solved to your entire satisfaction, in
his own curt way, the problems of the ABSOLUTE and the INFINITE! If the
cardinal truths of philosophy and religion hitherto received are doomed
to be imperilled by such speculations, one feels strongly inclined to
pray with the old Homeric hero,--'that if they must perish, it may be
at least in daylight.' We earnestly counsel the youthful reader to
defer the study of German philosophy, at least till he has matured and
disciplined his mind, and familiarised himself with the best models of
what used to be our boast--English clearness of thought and expression.
He will then learn to ask rigidly for definitions, and not rest
satisfied with half-meanings--or no meaning. To the naturally venturous
pertinacity of young metaphysicians, few would be disposed to be more
indulgent than ourselves. From the time of Plato downwards--who tells
us that no sooner do they 'taste' of dialectics than they are ready to
dispute with every body--'sparing neither father nor mother, scarcely
even the lower animals,' if they had but a voice to reply. They have
always expected more from metaphysics than (except as a discipline) they
will ever yield. He elsewhere, still more humorously describes the same
trait. He compares then, to young dogs who are perpetually snapping
at every thing about them:--Hoimai gar se ou lelêthenai, hoti
hoi meirakiskoi, hotan to prôton logôn geuôntai, ôs paidia autois
katachrôntai, aei eis antilogian chrômenoi kai mimoumenoi tous
exelenchontas autoi allous elenchousi, chairontes ôsper skulakia te
kai sparattein tous plêsion aei. But we hope we shall not see our
metaphysical 'puppies' amusing themselves--as so many 'old dogs' amongst
neighbours (who ought to have known better) have done,--by tearing into
tatters the sacred leaves of that volume, which contains what is better
than all their philosophy.
____
This is easily said, and we know is often said, and loudly. But the
justice with which it is said is another matter; for when we can get
these cloudy objectors to put down, not their vague assertions of
profound difficulties, uttered in the obscure language they love, but a
precise statement of their objections, we find them either the very same
with those which were quite as powerfully urged in the course of the
deistical controversies of the last century (the case with far the
greater part), or else such as are of similar character, and
susceptible of similar answers. We say not that the answers were always
satisfactory, nor are now inquiring whether any of them were so; we
merely maintain that the objections in question are not the novelties
they affect to be. We say this to obviate an advantage which the very
vagueness of much modern opposition to Christianity would obtain, from
the notion that some prodigious arguments have been discovered which
the intellect of a Pascal or a Butler was not comprehensive enough to
anticipate, and which no Clarke or Paley would have been logician enough
to refute. We affirm, without hesitation, that when the new advocates of
infidelity descend from their airy elevation, and state their objections
in intelligible terms, they are found, for the most part, what we
have represented them. When we read many of the speculations of German
infidelity, we seem to be re-perusing many of our own authors of the
last century. It is as if our neighbours had imported our manufactures;
and, after re-packing them, in new forms and with some additions,
had re-shipped and sent them back to us as new commodities. Hardly an
instance of discrepancy is mentioned in the 'Wolfenbutted Fragments,'
which will not be found in the pages of our own deists a century ago;
and, as already hinted, of Dr. Strauss's elaborate strictures, the vast
majority will be found in the same sources. In fact, though far from
thinking it to our national credit, none but those who will dive a
little deeper than most do into a happily forgotten portion of our
literature, (which made noise enough in its day, and created very
superfluous terrors for the fate of Christianity,) can have any idea of
the extent to which the modern forms of unbelief in Germany--so far as
founded on any positive grounds, whether of reason or of criticism,--are
indebted to our English Deists. Tholuck, however, and others of his
countrymen, seem thoroughly aware of it.
The objections to the truth of Christianity are directed either against
the evidence itself; or that which it substantiates. Against the latter,
as Bishop Butler says, unless the objections be truly such as prove
contradictions in it, they are 'perfectly frivolous;' since we cannot be
competent judges either as to what it is worthy of the Supreme Mind
to reveal, or how far a portion of an imperfectly-developed system may
harmonise with the whole; and, perhaps, on many points, we never can be
competent judges, unless we can cease to be finite. The objections to
the evidence itself are, as the same great author observes, 'well worthy
of the fullest attention.' The a priori objection to miracles we have
already briefly touched. If that objection be valid, it is vain to argue
further; but if not, the remaining objections must be powerful enough to
neutralise the entire mass of the evidence, and, in fact, to mount to a
proof of contradictions; 'not on this or that minute point of historic
detail,--but on such as shake the foundations of the whole edifice of
evidence. It will not do to say, 'Here is a minute discrepancy in the
history of Matthew or Luke as compared with that of 'Mark or John;'
for, first, such discrepancies are often found, in other authors, to be
apparent, and not real,--founded on our taking for granted that there is
no circumstance unmentioned by two writers which, if known, would
have been seen to harmonise their statements. We admit this possible
reconciliation readily enough in the case of many seeming discrepancies
of other historians; but it is a benefit which men are slow to admit in
the case of the sacred narratives. There the objector is always apt to
take it for granted that the discrepancy is real; though it may be easy
to suppose a case (a possible case is quite sufficient for the purpose)
which would neutralise the objection. Of this perverseness (we can call
it by no other name) the examples are perpetual in the critical tortures
which Strauss has subjected the sacred historians.*"--
It may be objected, perhaps, that the gratuitous supposition of some
unmentioned fact--which, if mentioned, would harmonise the apparently
counter-statements of two historians--cannot be admitted, and is, in
fact, a surrender of the argument. But to say so, is only to betray an
utter ignorance of what the argument is. If an objection be founded
on the alleged absolute contradiction of two statements, it is quite
sufficient to show any (not the real, but only a hypothetical and
possible) medium of reconciling them; and the objection is, in all
fairness, dissolved. And this would be felt by the honest logician, even
if we did not know of any such instances in point of fact. We do know
however, of many. Nothing is more common than to find, in the narration
of two perfectly honest historians,--referring to the same events from
different points of view, or for a different purpose,--the omission
a fact which gives a seeming contrariety to their statements; a
contrariety which the mention of the omitted fact by a third writer
instantly clears up.+
___
* The reader may see some striking instances of his disposition to
take the worse sense, in Beard's 'Voices of the Church.' Tholuck truly
observes, too, in his strictures on Strauss, 'We know how frequently the
loss of a few words in one ancient author would be sufficient to cast
an inexplicable obscurity over another.' The same writer well observes,
that there never was a historian who, if treated on the principles of
criticism which his countryman has applied to the Evangelists, might
not be proved a mere mytholographer ... 'It is plain', he says, 'that
if absolute among historians'--and still more absolute apparent
agreement--is necessary to assure us that we possess in their writings
credible history, we must renounce all pretence to any such possession.'
The translations from Quinet, Coquerel, and Tholuck are all, in
different ways, well worth reading. The last truly says, 'Strauss came
to the study of the Evangelical history with the forgone conclusion that
"miracles are impossible;" and where an investigator brings with him an
absolute conviction of the guilt of the accused to the examination
of his case, we know how even the most innocent may be implicated and
condemned out of his own mouth.' In fact, so strong and various are the
proofs of truth and reality in the history of the New Testament, that
none would ever have suspected the veracity of the writers, or tried to
disprove it, except for the above forgone conclusion--'that miracles
are impossible.' We also recommend to the reader an ingenious brochure
included in the 'Voices of the Church, in reply to Strauss,' constructed
on the same principle with Whately's admirable 'Historic Doubts,'
namely; 'The Fallacy of the Mythical Theory of Dr. Strauss, illustrated
from the History of Martin Luther, and from the actual Mohammedan Myths
of the Life of Jesus.' What a subject for the same play of ingenuity
would be Dean Swift! The date, and place of his birth disputed--whether
he was an Englishman or an Irishman--his incomprehensible relations to
Stella and Vanessa, utterly incomprehensible on any hypothesis--his
alleged seduction of one of one, of both, of neither--his marriage with
Stella affirmed, disputed, and still wholly unsettled--the numberless
other incidents in his life full of contradiction and mystery--and, not
least, the eccentricities and inconsistencies of his whole character and
conduct! Why, with a thousandth part of Dr. Strauss's assumptions, it
would be easy to reduce Swift to as fabulous a personage as his own
Lemuel Gulliver. +Any apparent discrepancy with either themselves or
profane historians is usually sufficient to satisfy Dr. Strauss. He
is ever ready to conclude that the discrepancy is real, and that the
profane historians are right. In adducing some striking instances of the
minute accuracy of Luke, only revealed by obscure collateral evidence
(historic or numismatic) discovered since, Tholuck remarks, 'What an
outcry would have been made had not the specious appearance of error
been thus obviated. Luke calls Gallio proconsul of Achaia: we should
not have expected it, since though Achaia was originally to senatorial
province. Tiberius had changed it into an imperial one, and the title
of its governor, therefore, was procurator; now a passage in Suetonius
informs us, that Claudius had restored the province to the senate.' The
same Evangelist calls Sergius Paulus governor of Cyprus; yet we might
have expected to find only a praetor, since Cyprus was an imperial
province. In this case, again: says Tholuck, the correctness of the
historian has been remarkable attested. Coins and later still a passage
in Dion Cassius, have been found, giving proof that Augustus restored
the province to the senate; and thus, as if to vindicate the Evangelist,
the Roman historian adds, 'Thus, proconsuls began to be sent into that
island also.' Trans. From Tholuck, pp. 21, 22. In the same manner
coins have been found proving he is correct in some other once disputed
instances. Is it not fair to suppose that many apparent discrepancies of
the same order may be eventually removed by similar evidence?
____
Very forgetful of this have the advocates of infidelity usually been:
nay, (as if they would make up in the number of objections what they
want in weight,) they have frequently availed themselves not only of
apparent contrarieties, but of mere incompleteness in the statements
of two different writers, on which to found a charge of contradiction.
Thus, if one writer says that a certain person was present at a given
time or place, when another says that he and two more were there; or
that one man was cured of blindness, when another says that two were,--
such a thing is often alleged as a contradiction; whereas, in truth, it
resents not even a difficulty--unless one historian be bound to say
not only all that another says but just so much, and no more. Let such
objections be what they will, unless they prove absolute contradictions
in the narrative, they are as mere dust in the balance, compared with
the stupendous mass and variety of that evidence which confirms the
substantial truth of Christianity. And even if they establish real
contradictions, they still amount, for reasons we are about to state,
to dust in the balance, unless they establish contradictions not in
immaterial but in vital points. The objections must be such as, if
proved, leave the whole fabric of evidence in ruins. For, secondly, we
are fully disposed to concede to the objector that there are, in the
books of Scripture, not only apparent but real discrepancies,--a point
which many of the advocates of Christianity are, indeed, reluctant to
admit but which we think, no candid advocate will feel to be the less
true. Nevertheless, even such an advocate of the Scriptures may justly
contend that the very reasons which necessitate this admission of
discrepancies also reduce them to such a limit that they do not affect,
in the slightest degree, the substantial credibility of the sacred
records; and, in our judgment, Christians have unwisely damaged their
cause, and given a needless advantage to the infidel, by denying that
any discrepancies exist, or by endeavouring to prove that they do not.
The discrepancies to which we refer are just those which, in the course
of the transcription of ancient books, divine or human, through
many ages,--their constant transcription by different hands,--their
translation into various languages,--may not only be expected to occur,
but which must occur, unless there be a perpetual series of most minute
and ludicrous miracles--certainly never promised, and as certainly never
performed--to counteract all the effects of negligence and inadvertence,
to guide the pen of every transcriber to infallible accuracy, and
to prevent his ever deviating into any casual error! Such miraculous
intervention, we need not say, has never been pleaded for by any
apologist of Christianity; has certainly never been promised; and, if it
had,--since we see, as a matter of fact, that the promise has never been
fulfilled,--the whole of Christianity would fall to the ground. But
then, from a large induction, we know that the limits within which
discrepancies and errors from such causes will occur, must be very
moderate; we know, from numberless examples of other writings, what the
maximum is,--and that it leaves their substantial authenticity untouched
and unimpeached. No one supposes the writings of Plato and Cicero, of
Thucydides and Tacitus, of Bacon or Shakspeare, fundamentally vitiated
by the like discrepancies, errors, and absurdities which time and
inadvertence have occasioned.