Having considered the direct assertions in the New Testament in reference
to the supernatural, it will be necessary to take a brief view of the
question in relation to modern difficulties and objections.
The following subjects present themselves for our consideration:—
1st. To what extent, and in what sense are miracles the proofs of a
revelation?
2nd. Are supernatural occurrences devoid of all moral environment capable
of affording such proof?
3rd. Can doctrinal statements or moral truths be proved by miracles?
4th. Are miracles objects of faith merely, or if not, how are they related
to our reason; and if in any sense they are objects of faith, how can they
be the media of proof?
It will be evident that these questions will immediately lay open a number
of the most important considerations. They can only be adequately dealt
with in the subsequent portions of this work. The natural place to discuss
them will be when I come to consider the objections that can be urged
against the possibility and credibility of miracles. A few preliminary
observations, however, will be necessary for the purpose of putting the
reader in possession of some of the most important points of debate and of
the positions which I intend to assume respecting them. They will also
help to clear the way for the solution of the various difficulties by
which the subject has been attempted to be obscured.
The manner in which Christianity claims to be a divine revelation, as we
have seen in the former chapter, in its most proper and distinctive sense
is that the person of Jesus Christ constitutes that revelation. It is the
manifestation of the divine character and perfections by means of the
various acts and deeds of his earthly life and ministry. It is a
revelation of the divine shining forth in the human. I have already
adduced some of the affirmations of the sacred writers on this subject. It
would be easy to multiply them indefinitely. Perhaps it would be
impossible to express the position which they take on this subject in more
distinct language than by citing two brief passages in St. Paul’s epistle
to the Colossians: “Who is,” says the Apostle, “the image of the invisible
God;” “in him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.” Both
passages affirm, as the writer’s view, that all revelation is made in the
person of Jesus Christ.
It follows, therefore, that the Christian revelation in its highest sense
is not a body of abstract dogmas, but that it consists of an objective
fact, the Incarnation. As God has manifested his eternal power and Godhead
in the material creation, so he has manifested himself as a moral and
spiritual being, 1st, imperfectly in the moral nature of man, and
afterwards perfectly, in the perfect man who unites in himself the divine
and human, Jesus Christ. God, when he effected the work of creation, made
a manifestation of himself which chiefly revealed his power and wisdom.
When he effected the Incarnation he made an additional manifestation of
himself which chiefly revealed his moral character and perfections. The
four Gospels contain the historical account of this manifestation, as made
in the actions and teaching of Jesus Christ. As this revelation consists
of a number of historical facts, all that was necessary was that his life
and actions should be correctly reported. The remaining books of the New
Testament are historical in character, with one exception, and as far as
they treat of doctrines, they may be viewed as commentaries on the Divine
fact of the Incarnation.
It follows, therefore, that the essence of Christianity consists of a
superhuman or divine fact, the Incarnation. In this point of view the
supernatural is not only a concomitant of Christianity, but it constitutes
its essence. It is the manifestation of a supernatural and superhuman
being appearing within the sphere of the natural and the human. It cannot
be too carefully observed throughout this entire controversy that the
character which is ascribed to Jesus Christ, while it embraces every
perfection of man, is no less superhuman than the powers which are
attributed to him are supernatural. In this sense the supernatural is not
merely an evidence of revelation, but its essence.
The Incarnation has frequently been designated a miracle. To do so seems
to me to incur the danger of involving the whole controversy in confusion
of thought. In a loose way of speaking, the creative acts of God may be
called miracles: that is, they involve a deviation from the previous order
of existing things, and the introduction of a new one; all such results
are unquestionable manifestations of supernatural agency, but they differ
wholly in conception from what we usually designate by the term miracle.
The Incarnation, therefore, ought not to be placed on the same footing as
miracles, which are supernatural occurrences, having a definite evidential
value, but with God’s creative acts, being the highest manifestation of
himself which he has made to man. It is perfectly true, as I have already
observed, that the miracles of Jesus Christ stand in a double aspect, as
part of his supernatural manifestation, and as possessing an evidential
value.
It is clear, therefore, that a supernatural event such as the Incarnation,
if evidential, can only be self‐evidential. It was not wrought for the
purpose of proving anything. But, as we have seen, the sacred writers and
our Lord himself assert that in a certain sense it was self‐evidential.
“For the life was manifested, and we have seen it and bear witness, and
show unto you that eternal life which was with the Father and was
manifested unto us.”
A recent writer affirms that Christianity professes to be a revelation of
supernatural truths utterly inconceivable to reason, and that such truths
can only be proved by miracles. I can understand what is meant by a truth
derived from a supernatural source of information, or one respecting a
supernatural being or occurrence: but what a supernatural truth can be
contradistinguished from other kinds of truth is far from evident.
Revelation may disclose truths which reason alone would have been unable
to discover; but this does not make the truths themselves, when they are
discovered, either supernatural or incomprehensible.
I will now proceed to consider whether there is any real ground for
affirming that occurrences which we designate as miracles are the only
proofs of a divine revelation.
The same writer, whose object is to prove that Christianity is utterly
destitute of all claims to our acceptance as a divine revelation,
endeavours to show that miracles, viewed as bare objective facts, are the
only evidence which can substantiate such a mass of incredible assertions
as those contained in the New Testament, and that their moral environment
cannot be taken into account in estimating their evidential value. For
this purpose he quotes the following passage from Dr. Mozley’s Bampton
Lectures: “Dr. Mozley,” says he, “supposes the case, that if a person of
evident integrity and loftiness of character had appeared eighteen
centuries ago announcing himself as pre‐existing from all eternity, the
Son of God, the maker of the world, who had come down from heaven, and had
assumed the nature of man, in order to be the Lamb of God that taketh away
the sins of the world, and so on, enumerating the other doctrines of
Christianity; Dr. Mozley then adds, what would be the inevitable
conclusion of sober reason respecting that person? The necessary
conclusion of sober reason would be that he was disordered in his
understanding.... By no rational being would a just and a benevolent life
be accepted as a proof of such announcements. Miracles are the necessary
complements of the truth of such announcements, which without them are
powerless and abortive, the fragments of a design which is nothing unless
it is the whole. They are necessary to the justification of such
announcements, which unless they are supernatural truth are the wildest
delusions.”—_Supernatural Religion_.
In justice to Dr. Mozley, the passage which is omitted in this citation
from his lectures ought to be quoted. It is as follows: “What other
decision could be come to when a man, looking like one of our own selves,
and only exemplifying in his life and circumstances the ordinary course of
nature, said this about himself, but that when reason had lost its balance
a dream of supernatural and unearthly, grandeur might be the
result.”—_Bampton Lectures._
Some expressions in this passage leave it open to the assumption which
this writer wishes to fasten on it that Dr. Mozley intended to affirm that
the only adequate proof of such affirmations as were made by Jesus Christ
respecting himself would have been visible miracles wrought in
confirmation of them. This, however, is not necessarily its meaning, for
the omitted passage above cited, distinctly affirms that the person who is
supposed to make such assertions is only an ordinary good and holy but
imperfect man.
But the assertions in question were not made by an ordinary man like
ourselves, but by one who is described as possessed of superhuman
greatness and holiness and of profound spiritual insight into truth. He is
uniformly depicted as speaking with the fulness of knowledge of the
subject on which he speaks. I cannot therefore admit, supposing the
character of Jesus to have been historical, that if he had made such
assertions respecting himself prior to the performance of his first
miracle at Cana, they would have been utterly unworthy of serious
attention. It must be readily admitted that if they had been affirmed of
himself by an ordinary man like ourselves, no affirmation of his would
have been a guarantee of their truth, for the simple reason that they
would have been self‐contradictory. Nor would the performance of a miracle
have made them one atom more credible. But the credibility of such an
assertion, if it had been made by such a person as Jesus Christ even prior
to his performance of a single miracle, is a wholly different question.
It follows, therefore, on the supposition that the delineation given us in
the Gospels is that of an historical reality, that his assertions
respecting himself would stand in a wholly different position from those
of any other man. He could neither deceive nor be deceived. When he made
assertions respecting himself he must have known whether they were true.
The assertions of such a person therefore would be worthy of all
acceptation.
Miracles are not the means of substantiating assertions respecting the
truth of unseen realities, nor are they used for such purposes in the New
Testament. The whole question is one of adequate knowledge. If we have the
means of knowing that a person has a complete acquaintance with truths of
which we are ignorant, we can rationally accept them as true on his
assurance that they are so, exactly on the same principles as we accept
the truths of physical science although we ourselves are ignorant of the
processes by which they are arrived at. To state the position generally,
it is quite rational to accept the affirmations of those who possess full
knowledge of any subject of which we ourselves are profoundly ignorant.
The only thing necessary is to attain an assurance that the knowledge of
our informant is adequate to justify his assertions. It is on the ground
of the fulness of his knowledge that we accept the assertions of Jesus
Christ, and not because he wrought a miracle for the purpose of proving
that his assertions were true.
Let us now consider in what sense miracles are a proof of the truth of a
divine revelation.
I lay down that the proper function of miracles is to establish the truth
of a divine commission. From this we argue to the truth of the assertions
of the persons who are intrusted with it.
If an ordinary man, such as a prophet or an apostle, were to affirm that
he had a communication from God which he was directed to make to others,
or in other words that he had a divine commission, it is evident that no
one would be bound to believe him on his mere affirmation. The simple and
obvious reply would be, Give us some proof of the reality of the fact.
Your claim is far too lofty to be admitted as valid on your simple
affirmation. The question then is, how is such a claim to be tested? I
reply by the person who makes it performing some action which is adequate
to prove that the Great Governor of the Universe ratifies this claim. He
must do something analogous to what all persons who claim to be acting
under commissions from others do, _i.e._ he must produce some direct and
formal credentials from the authority in whose name he claims to be
acting. In this case the authority is God. He must therefore perform some
action which directly identifies himself with God.
How is this to be accomplished? I answer by the performance of an
unequivocal miracle which will directly connect him with the Great
Governor of the Universe. I say unequivocal miracle, because if there were
any doubt as to its supernatural character it would be useless. Nor would
it be of any avail if it were a bare objective fact in external nature,
devoid of its moral and spiritual environment. What is required is some
direct manifestation of the divine on the sphere of the human and the
natural. It must, in fact, exactly fulfil the character so often assigned
to miracles in the Gospels. It must be a σημεῖον, or indication of the
presence of God, resembling as it were the Great Seal which is affixed to
state documents as the final mark of sovereign authority. Of such a
character are all the chief miracles recorded in the Gospels.
The question about miracles has been beclouded by debating it in an
abstract instead of in a concrete form; thus forgetting that it is not
every conceivable form of alleged supernatural occurrence with which we
have to deal, but the miracles recorded in the New Testament. By
discussing it in this form it has been possible to raise a number of
difficulties which may be abstractedly conceivable, but which have no
bearing whatever on the miracles in question. Thus it has been frequently
urged that to enable us to be certain that an alleged miracle is really
due to supernatural agency, a jury of savants ought to be impanelled,
before whom the worker of the miracle should exhibit his miraculous
operation. They are to subject it to a variety of scientific tests. Even
then if they have failed to discover error, they are to demand a second
and a third performance, in order that it may be again and again submitted
to the same process of scientific scrutiny. Until miracles can be
submitted to and verified by tests of this description they have been
affirmed to be unworthy of credit, even on the strongest ordinary
testimony.
I shall discuss this and kindred questions more fully in the subsequent
portions of this volume, when I consider the nature of the evidence which
is adequate to prove the performance of a miracle. For the present I shall
only observe that the entire plausibility of this position arises from its
being stated in an abstract or general form. We cannot help seeing in
reference to the chief miracles recorded in the New Testament, such as the
care of blind, lame or leprous persons, instantaneously by a word or a
touch, that common sense is fully adequate to determine that such
occurrences must belong to the regions of the supernatural and to no
other.
Two things are necessary to establish the reality of a supposed miracle.
First, that the alleged fact should not only have been brought about by
supernatural causes but previously announced by him who performs it:
secondly, that the fact actually happened as it appeared to happen.
There can be no doubt that the power of juggling and sleight of hand, to
perform actions which would be supernatural, if they were only what they
appear to be, is considerable, and the difficulty of detection is great.
Enthusiasm also when once excited, is capable of generating various unreal
appearances which if actual, would be supernatural. It is also mighty in
those regions where the union takes place between mind and matter, but the
chief miracles recorded in the Gospels belong to a wholly different order
of occurrence. If they took place as they are reported, no one possessed
of common sense can doubt as to whether they were due to supernatural
agency. It is no less clear that such miracles were occurrences in which
successful imposture was impossible. What is required to prove them is the
evidence of common sense, and not of scientific analysis. Let it be
observed that it is not my intention to affirm that the whole of the
supernaturalism recorded in the New Testament is of the same unequivocal
character.
The evidential value of a miracle viewed as a matter of common sense maybe
briefly stated thus. A person comes to me who affirms that he has a divine
message to communicate. I ask him to prove it. He lays his hand on one
whom I have known to be blind for the last twenty years, tells him in the
name of Jesus Christ to receive his sight, and he forthwith receives it.
There is probably no person gifted with ordinary understanding who would
not consider such an act to be an adequate proof of divine agency, all
theoretical or metaphysical difficulties to the contrary notwithstanding.
It will doubtless be objected that such an act would prove only the
presence of a superhuman instead of a divine power. This point will be
fully considered hereafter. For my present purpose it will be sufficient
to fall back on the decision of common sense, that he who can restore
sight to the sightless eye‐ball, by no other apparent instrumentality than
a word or a touch, can be no other than the Maker of the Universe.
I must now consider whether supernatural occurrences devoid of all moral
environment, are capable of proving a divine commission.
It has frequently been the habit, both of the opponents and the defenders
of Christianity, to discuss the subject of the evidential value of
miracles apart from all reference to their moral environment. As, however,
the overwhelming majority of the miracles recorded in the New Testament
profess such an environment, the question of the value of supposed
miracles which are destitute of it, forms no legitimate portion of the
subject before us. What might or might not be proved by them, even if it
could be determined satisfactorily, is quite foreign to the present
discussion, which is limited to the truth or falsehood of those contained
in the New Testament. The most important of these are not mere displays of
power, but have an unquestionable moral environment impressed upon them,
and they profess to have been wrought for a definite end and purpose. This
is less distinctly marked in some of the miracles recorded in the Old
Testament, but with them I have no present concern. It will be sufficient
to observe that while many of them were unquestionably performed in
attestation of a divine mission, as a class they bear another distinctive
purpose, viz. that of correcting the polytheistic tendencies of the age.
Hence their leading impress is that of power. The necessity of
counteracting the tendency which I have referred to, rendered it necessary
emphatically to assert the Lordship of one God over universal nature, in
opposition to that conception of it so widely diffused throughout the
ancient world, which saw a distinct power exerted in every combination of
material forces.
The very conception of a miracle as a supernatural occurrence, brought
about for the purpose of authenticating a revelation, distinguishes such
an action from one which involves only a simple exhibition of power. All
acts of moral agents must display a purpose of some kind. No conception of
God is of the smallest religious value which does not contemplate him as
being a moral agent and a being on whose actions a moral character of some
kind must be impressed. Consequently an act entirely devoid of all moral
aspect cannot prove that it has resulted from direct divine intervention.
The difficulty has originated from dividing into three separate parts an
action which is essentially one, and contemplating separately the
objective fact in the supernatural action, the circumstances attending its
performance, and the purpose for which it was performed. It is the union
of all these which constitutes the occurrence in question an evidential
miracle.
Let me now offer a few observations on a very important point for our
consideration. Can abstract doctrinal statements or moral truths be proved
by miracles?
I have already observed that as far as the miracles of the New Testament
were wrought for directly evidential purposes, they were performed, not to
prove particular doctrines, but as the credentials of a divine mission, or
that they formed a part of the superhuman manifestation of our Lord. The
apparent exceptions are those which were performed to attract attention to
the divine message, to assist in the foundation of the Church, or to bear
witness to the truth of the Resurrection. These last were in fact
attestations to the reality of the Messianic character of Jesus Christ,
which is the highest conceivable form of a divine mission, on which
miracle the truth of Christianity is directly pledged by the sacred
writers. A mere statement of the facts of the New Testament is a practical
solution of the difficulty. It nowhere affirms that a miracle was ever
performed to bear witness to the truth of an abstract doctrine.
I will now endeavour to lay down some general principles as to the
relation in which doctrinal statements stand to supernatural
manifestations. As on such a subject it will be impossible to lay down a
general rule which will be applicable to every supernatural event, it will
be necessary to consider each case by itself.
First, that of our Lord.
We believe his statements about unknown truths, on the ground that he was
perfectly veracious, and had the most perfect knowledge of the subject on
which he spoke. The actions which he performed (I mean by these, not his
miracles merely, but the entire course of his working) are evidences of
his divine character. He himself avers that he possessed the most intimate
knowledge of God, and of the great realities of the spiritual world. “We
speak,” says he, “that we do know, and testify that we have seen.” “I
speak that which I have seen with my Father.” Throughout the Synoptics
likewise he is represented as having the most entire knowledge of both
spiritual and moral truth, and as teaching direct from his own insight. We
believe the assertions, not because he confirmed their truth by the
performance of a miracle, but because he afforded evidence that he was a
veracious witness, and fully acquainted with the subject on which he
spoke. His miraculous actions proved that he was God’s messenger, and as
such were additional attestations to his veracity.
The acceptance of such affirmations as worthy of the highest credit may be
correctly designated as acts of faith; but let us never forget that such
acts of faith are also high exercises of reason. Writers in opposition to
Christianity are never wearied in running a contrast between reason and
faith, and in representing the two as standing in opposition to each
other, and belonging to wholly different regions of thought. Nor can it be
denied that they have received much encouragement to do this by the
indistinct or misleading statements of some Christian writers on the
subject. Between them no little confusion has been introduced into the
controversy, and a general idea has become prevalent that reason and faith
are two distinct, if not opposing faculties, each of which acts within a
subject matter of its own. The effect of this confusion has been
disastrous.
My contention is that faith is only another name for reason when operating
on a particular class of phenomena. To enter on an elaborate proof of this
would be out of place here; a few illustrations must therefore suffice. To
accept information from persons who have knowledge of subjects which we
have not studied, or who have mental powers of insight or perception of
which we are destitute, or who have seen phenomena which we have not seen,
is an act in conformity with our highest reason. A constant effort has
been made by unbelievers to confound faith with credulity: Faith is not
credulity, but the acceptance of truth on adequate evidence, and the
rejection of mere affirmation, when the evidence is inadequate. On the
other hand multitudes of Christians have assiduously laboured to decry
reason as the instrument for the investigation of truth. I admit that it
is not a perfect instrument, but it is the only one which we have. The
light of a candle may not be all that we can wish, but if we have no other
we shall not improve our condition by extinguishing it.
Let me illustrate this subject by a few examples. We believe the
assertions of Dr. Livingstone about the interior of Africa, although we
have no means of verifying them by ocular observation, because we know
that he has travelled there, and we are persuaded that he is a veracious
witness. We accept the higher truths of astronomy, not because we have
studied them, or are even able to appreciate the nature of the processes
by which they have been arrived at, but because they are affirmed by
persons who have afforded evidence that they possess a high order of
knowledge on that subject. The same is true throughout the whole of the
higher departments of science. We may call this an act of faith if we
like, but it is also an act of our reason. The same thing is true
throughout every department of human knowledge. It is astonishing how
small a part of it is the result of our own personal observation. It
follows therefore that the attempts which are so constantly made to
separate faith and reason, and to erect an impassable wall between them,
are suicidal alike both to faith and reason.
As therefore we accept the affirmations of others on subjects within the
limits of their own knowledge, although we ourselves are ignorant of the
processes by which it has been arrived at, so we accept the affirmations
of such a person as the Jesus of the Evangelists on those subjects on
which he affirms that he possesses the fullest knowledge.
But it will be objected that some of these assertions are made respecting
high mysteries incomprehensible to the human intellect. Can we accept such
truths?
I answer that we are only capable of accepting propositions the two terms
of which we are able to comprehend with more or less distinctness. Nothing
has been the subject of greater abuse than the word “mystery” in
connection with revelation. It is frequently represented as denoting
something which from end to end is utterly incomprehensible, like the
unknowable God of a certain system of philosophy. In the New Testament the
meaning of the word “mystery” is not an incomprehensible proposition, but
a truth which once was hidden in the divine counsels, and has been
revealed by the Gospel. That which is actually unthinkable is incapable of
affirmation or denial. None of the affirmations of Jesus Christ partake of
this character. They are mysteries only in the sense that they ran up into
spheres of thought which transcend the limits of human knowledge. But this
is done by all ultimate philosophical and scientific truths. If it be
urged that some of them are difficult or incapable of definition, the same
is true of not a few of the conceptions of science. It is also true that
they respect truths with which we could not be acquainted apart from such
a revelation as that made in the person of Jesus Christ; but this is true
of the phenomena of Creation likewise. We do not acquire a knowledge of
its phenomena by reasoning, but by observation, or from the statements of
others when they lie beyond the limits of our own observation. The
Incarnation, including as it does the divine actions and the teaching of
Jesus Christ, is not the revelation of a dogma, but the manifestation of a
new fact. This fact, like all other phenomena, although undiscoverable by
our reasoning powers without the exercise of observation, becomes after
observation a fact on which reason may justly exercise its powers. If he
be really what he professed to be, then his statements about himself give
as an account of his previous history, before he came under human
observation.
Let me now consider the relation in which miracles stand to the
affirmations of those who claimed a commission from Jesus Christ to
publish his religion in the world, and to lay the foundation of the
Church.
I must here also adhere to my original position that miraculous powers are
never described in the New Testament as being used for the direct proof of
dogmas, but for the proof of the Messianic character of Jesus Christ, or
of the divine commission of those who wrought them. The truth of the
assertions of its writers rests on no other foundation than the fulness of
their knowledge of the subjects on which they spake, whether acquired by
ordinary or by supernatural means, and on their veracity, when they affirm
that particular truths were within the limits of their knowledge. Thus St.
Paul claims acceptance for the things which he asserted because he had
been taught them by Revelation from Jesus Christ, not because he had
proved their truth, by working miracles in confirmation of them. This
course is uniformly adopted by him throughout his epistles. The object of
the mighty works that were wrought by him was to prove his own apostleship
or the fact of the resurrection.
I must not allow myself to enter on the question of inspiration, its
nature and limitations, or the degree of supernatural guidance afforded to
the apostles and their followers. Such an inquiry would be foreign to the
present subject, which is strictly historical. It is of course a direct
and necessary inference that when the miracles proved the reality of the
commission of those who performed them, they also proved that they were
fully instructed in its terms, and entitled to credit within its limits.
But the extent of their enlightenment can only be inferred from the nature
of the commission itself, and from the facts and phenomena of the New
Testament. It has been an idea widely spread that inspiration must confer
a general infallibility. The inference that a man is rendered infallible
in general matters because he is invested with a limited and definite
commission, and with endowments adequate to render him competent to fulfil
the purposes of his mission, is one which the premises will not justify.
The utmost that the possession of such a commission can prove is that its
possessor is enlightened up to its subject matter, but no further.
But in the present discussion I need not go beyond the affirmations of the
New Testament. The actions performed by Jesus Christ proved him to be the
Messiah. The miracles wrought by the apostles, were performed either to
prove the fact of his resurrection, _i.e._ that he was the Messiah, or
their own divine mission, which was dependent on its truth, or to draw
attention to their message. The supernatural gifts so frequently referred
to in the epistles, are affirmed to have been designed for the building up
of the Church into a distinct community, and when that purpose was
accomplished they were to cease. Being functional, the enlightenment
communicated by them was necessarily limited to the special subject matter
on which they were exercised. In this point of view miracles may be viewed
as attestations of the veracity of the persons who performed them, and of
the sufficiency of their knowledge on the subjects they were specially
commissioned to communicate.
But the question still remains for consideration, Can miracles prove moral
truths?
I answer emphatically in the negative. If dogmas, which may be viewed as
intellectual truths, are incapable of a direct proof by miracles, still
more so are moral truths. Such truths can rest only on a moral basis. With
respect to the miracles recorded in the New Testament, the question is
nugatory, for it nowhere affirms that its miracles were wrought for such a
purpose. It is true that Jesus Christ, as the great legislator of the
kingdom of heaven, gave an authoritative utterance to many moral precepts
as the laws of his kingdom. This royal right of legislation was inherent
in his Messiahship. But to give utterance to moral truths in a legislative
capacity, has no connection with attempting to prove them by authority.
Ordinary human legislation has its authoritative utterances. But when it
does this, it does not rest the truths themselves on authority, or base
them on adventitious testimony. Our Lord and his apostles uniformly
appealed to the internal perceptions of our moral and spiritual nature as
the only ground on which moral obligation rests.
Let it be observed, however, that this by no means pre‐supposes the truth
of the absurd proposition, that every man, however imperfect or degraded,
is capable of reasoning out all moral truth for himself. On the contrary,
definite moral knowledge requires to be communicated, as all other kinds
of knowledge. Its great principles require to be enunciated, and to be
worked out to their special applications. But the principles themselves,
as far as their binding power is concerned, must ultimately rest on the
internal perceptions of our moral and spiritual being. A miracle,
therefore, can communicate to them no higher degree of certainty or
obligation. The only thing which it can aid in establishing is, that one
invested with a divine commission may have a right to claim obedience to
special precepts on the authority of God, in whom all moral obligation
centres.
But even in this case, the ground on which the obligation rests is a moral
one, which no miracle can possibly prove or even confirm. A moral teacher
can only appeal to that in man which we variously designate as conscience,
moral sense, or the principles which are the foundation of our moral
perceptions. The fact that many men through a long course of evil get
morally blinded does not alter the case. It only exemplifies a remarkable
saying of our Lord, “If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great
is that darkness.” When the light within us has become darkness, there is
nothing left to which an appeal to the sense of duty or obligation can be
made.
The objection urged against Christianity, that because a miracle cannot
prove a moral truth it is therefore useless, is quite beyond the question
at issue. The special function of the Christian revelation is one far
higher than the mere laying down of rules for the regulation of human
conduct. Its great purpose is to impart to man a moral and spiritual
power, which is able to make obedience to the moral law a possibility; to
supply a motive of sufficient potency to make us capable of resisting the
vehemence of our passions; and one which is able to lift the morally
degraded from their degradation, and to strengthen the holy in their
holiness. According to the teaching of the New Testament, this constitutes
the great distinctive purpose of Christianity, and the end of all divine
revelation. This most important truth has been greatly overlooked in the
present controversy. It entirely disposes of the objection that if moral
truth cannot be proved by miracles, they must be valueless. To such a
revelation the presence of the supernatural is essential.
But it by no means follows because miracles are unable to impart to us a
sense of moral obligation, that a duly commissioned moral teacher would be
useless. They might prove his superior knowledge, or as attesting a divine
commission, enable him to bring obligations already existing to bear on
the mind with superior power. Thus it by no means follows that because men
possess in their mental constitution the great principles on which
scientific truths are based, each man is able to reason them out for
himself. The most highly gifted man would make slow progress without a
teacher. As I have already observed, moral truth is capable of being
taught like all other truth; and although a miracle cannot prove it, it
may establish the fact that the worker of one is a man eminently entitled
to be heard on the great subjects of moral obligation, or that he is able
to communicate knowledge which is capable of acting mightily on our moral
being.
I must now proceed to offer a few observations on the question, Are
miracles objects of faith? and if they are so in any sense, how can they
be the media of proof of a revelation?
The author of “Supernatural Religion” starts the following difficulty in
connection with this subject: “Consciousness of the difficulties which
beset miracles in the present age has led many able men to deal thus
illogically with them, and to represent them alternately as evidence and
as objects of faith.” He then proceeds to refer to Dr. Arnold, Professor
Baden Powell, and Archbishop Trench, as having been in various degrees
guilty of making this confusion.
I am not prepared to deny that many Christian writers have expressed
themselves with great indistinctness on this subject, especially in works
where miracles have been only referred to incidentally, and which only
partially treat of the supernatural elements of Christianity. This
question will be discussed more fully when we consider his definite
objections; but it will tend to a clearer understanding of the subject if
in the present place, I lay down the following propositions:—
I. That it is impossible to believe in any assertion which contradicts the
first principles of our reason, even if it were supposable that a miracle
could be wrought in confirmation of it.
II. That, although the illumination which reason imparts is imperfect, yet
as it is the only instrument that we possess for the investigation of
truth, attempts to disparage it are absurd.
III. So far is faith from standing in opposition to reason, that it is a
legitimate branch of it when exercised on a special subject matter.
IV. That beliefs which reason refuses to authorise do not originate in
faith but in credulity.
V. That even those who entertain irrational convictions are compelled to
base them on evidence of some kind which is satisfactory to themselves:
that is to say, on the dictates of their own imperfect reason.
VI. That, while we can believe in nothing that is contrary to our reason,
yet it is perfectly rational to believe in many things which our reason
would have been unable to discover.
VII. That extraordinary facts which lie beyond the limits of human
experience are not contrary to our reason: and it is perfectly rational to
believe them whenever they are adequately attested.
VIII. That a large portion of our beliefs on subjects scientific,
philosophical, historical, moral, and religious, rest on testimony; the
belief in them is highly rational, when the knowledge of those from whom
we derive our information is adequate: and consequently that faith is a
principle co‐extensive with the activities of the human mind, and is by no
means confined to subjects simply religious, however intimately it may be
connected with them.
A few brief observations will suffice in this part of our subject.
It will be observed that I have included under the term “reason” the whole
of our mental processes which are necessary for the cognition and the
discovery of truth. These include, not only our powers of inductive and
deductive reasoning, but our intuitions, our forms of thought, those
powers of our mind, which whether intuitional or instinctive, form the
foundation of many of our most important convictions and our moral
conceptions. These constitute our reason as distinct from our reasoning
powers. No little confusion has been introduced into this controversy from
the want of attending to this distinction.
It has been asserted that we can accept things as matters of faith which
to our reason would be utterly incredible. This assertion has arisen from
the confusion of things which differ widely, viz. things which our reason
might have been unable to discover, but which when discovered may be
perfectly rational, and things directly contradictory to reason. The
existence for example of a square circle is a thing absolutely incredible,
and while thus contradictory to reason, it is impossible to accept it by
faith. So would any doctrine which in a similar manner contradicted the
first principles of our rational convictions. No more pernicious principle
can be laid down than that things which are contradictory to our reason
can be accepted by the principle of faith. Such a principle would divide
the human mind into two hostile camps, and if carried to its logical
consequences, must land us in universal scepticism.
It by no means follows that things which transcend our rational powers to
discover must be contrary to our reason when they have been discovered. We
can only arrive at the knowledge of unknown facts by observation, or
accept them on the testimony of others. Until they have been brought
within our knowledge in this way, no amount of reasoning could lead to
their discovery. In a similar manner with respect to several of the facts
in the New Testament connected with the Incarnation, our reason might
never have discovered them, but when they have been discovered, they may
form suitable subjects on which to exert its energies.
The whole of the confusion in which this question has become involved has
originated in the assumption that faith is a faculty of the mind distinct
and separate from our reason, and in a certain sense opposed to it; and
that things which cannot be subjects of rational conviction may yet be the
objects of faith. Whatever opinions may have been held by divines upon
this subject, I can discover nothing which countenances them in the New
Testament.
To what class of truths is the word “faith” properly applied? I answer to
those which we accept on testimony. It has been asserted that some of the
first principles of our rational convictions, such as our belief in the
existence of an external world, or in the truth of experience, is an act
of faith. This, however, is to introduce a confusion of thought. Such
convictions can be only acts of faith as far as we believe in ourselves.
Viewing faith as the acceptance of truth on adequate testimony, it follows
that all our knowledge of things, whether natural or supernatural, that is
not the result of the action of our own minds, but which we accept on the
testimony of others, is an act of faith. Our acceptance of them depends on
the validity of the testimony that can be adduced for them. The important
question for determination is, is the subject on which it is given within
the knowledge of the informant? If it respects a fact, has he witnessed
it, or received it from others who have? Are his powers of observation
good and his judgment sound? Is he worthy of credit? The determination of
these and similar points is the proper office of our rational powers, yet
the acceptance of the fact is an act of faith. When our reason is
satisfied on all these points, faith becomes an act of reason. To assert
that the acceptance of supernatural facts belongs to a faculty of our
minds which we designate faith, and that our acceptance of others is the
result of the action of our reason, is to lay down a distinction entirely
of our own creation. In both cases the evidences must form the subject of
rational investigation, and they must be accepted or rejected as they
approve themselves to our reason.
It will perhaps be urged, that the acceptance of propositions, such as the
doctrinal statements of the New Testament, is an act of faith which stands
out in manifest contra‐distinction to an act of reason. It would be so
unquestionably, if we accepted them on insufficient evidence; but when we
do so with the knowledge that others have a full acquaintance with the
subject on which they speak, it is in the highest degree rational to
accept and to act on their testimony. A large portion of the business of
life is conducted on this principle. A man is ignorant on some subject, or
he distrusts his own judgment respecting it: he consults one who knows, or
on whose judgment he relies. For example: let us suppose that I have a
bottle full of a certain substance; I do not know whether it is a medicine
that I am in need of, or a deadly poison. I consult my chemist, and
without hesitation I act on his opinion. In all such cases (and they are
spread over the entire sphere of life) we act on faith; but it is a faith
which is in conformity with the dictates of reason. The function of the
latter is to ascertain the adequate knowledge and the veracity of the
person whose assurance we accept. If it is a rational act thus to receive
truths on the testimony of man, whose knowledge must be imperfect, it must
be still more so to accept them on the authority of him who knows all
things, _i.e._ God.
I am aware that certain writers have given such a representation of faith
as to produce the impression that it is one of its special functions to
accept certain dogmas, the terms of which are extremely obscure, or
absolutely incomprehensible. But no rational evidence can be adduced in
support of this position. To exert actual belief in a proposition the
terms of which are incomprehensible, is an impossibility, and we only
deceive ourselves when we imagine that we can. All that we can do in such
cases is to repeat words, but if they have no definite meaning we cannot
believe them: for the act of faith or conviction is founded on the
affirmation that the two terms of a particular proposition agree. It is
quite true that the facts and statements of the New Testament run up into
principles which transcend our limited power of reason; but this is common
to it, and every system of science or philosophy; and forms no peculiarity
of religion. I am far from wishing to affirm that theologians have not
fallen into this practice; but my concern is not with them, but with the
statements of the New Testament. One of the most important acquisitions
made to our mental science in the present day is that we have ascertained
that there are limits to our mental powers beyond which we cannot
penetrate. This was imperfectly realized by many of the reasoners of
earlier times, and the result has been that they have fallen into a hazy
mysticism, or logomachy.
Equally pernicious is the view that there is something particularly
meritorious in accepting truth on little or no evidence, and that to do so
is a high act of faith. Not only is this founded on no rational principle,
but it is entirely unsupported by any account of faith as given in the New
Testament, which again and again assumes the contrary position. Faith is
the acceptance of truths which lie beyond the sphere of our personal
knowledge on an adequate attestation. If an astronomer should happen to be
ignorant of chemistry, and accept its truths on the testimony of one who
was an eminent master of it, this would constitute an act of faith. Surely
such an act is one which is highly rational.
It follows, therefore, that although our belief in miracles being founded,
as it now must be, on testimony, is an act of faith, yet it is also an act
of our reason. It is, therefore, by no means absurd to speak of miracles
as objects of faith, and at the same time as possessing an evidential
value. We accept them as we do all other adequately attested facts, and
reason on them in the same manner as we do on other facts. This is the
precise course which will be pursued by the overwhelming majority of
astronomers who will be unable to witness the coming transit of Venus.
They will accept the facts on adequate testimony, and afterwards use them
as media of proof.