The allegation that the followers of Jesus, and the early Christians
generally, were a body of intensely credulous and superstitious people,
may be considered as not only the stronghold of those who impugn the
historical character of the Gospels, but also as the arsenal from which
they draw no small number of their weapons of attack. A credulity which
knew no limits is liberally ascribed to them as showing how every
miraculous narrative might have been invented. They have even been
credited with a facility of inventing fictions, and then deluding
themselves into the belief that they were facts which they had actually
witnessed. Thus it has been asserted that it was their firm belief that
the Messiah ought to have wrought miracles; that Jesus himself may not
even have professed to perform them; but that the fervid imaginations of
His followers invented a set of miracles, attributed them to Him, and
ended with the belief that they had seen Him perform them. On the other
hand, whenever these objectors are pressed by a difficulty in accounting
for the origin of particular phenomena in the Gospels, they retire on the
credulity of the followers of Jesus as into a kind of citadel, in which
they consider themselves so strongly entrenched that they may defy every
attack. There is also another important purpose which it is made to serve.
It is asserted that it renders worthless the testimony of the followers of
Jesus as to the actual occurrence of miracles.
The allegation takes two forms:
1st. That the followers of Jesus were the prey of a credulity and
superstition which greatly exceeded the limits of the ordinary credulity
of mankind; and that therefore the value of their historical testimony is
destroyed.
2nd. That the ordinary credulity of mankind with respect to the occurrence
of supernatural events is so great and widespread, as to render the
invention of miraculous narratives easy, and to destroy the credit of all
narratives containing them.
I propose to consider these subjects in this and the following chapter.
Nothing is easier than to charge a body of men with intense credulity and
superstition. Before, however, such charges deserve to have any notice
taken of them, they should be substantiated by direct proof. It is
impossible to meet them if urged in a mere general form. Fortunately, the
author of “Supernatural Religion” makes a number of specific and definite
charges, in which he endeavours to fasten an unspeakable degree of
credulity and superstition on the immediate followers of Jesus and the
authors of the Gospels, and refers to authorities in support of his
assertions. I will state his general position in his own words.
“We have given a most imperfect sketch of some of the opinions and
superstitions prevalent at the time of Jesus, and when the books of the
New Testament were written. These, as we have seen, are continued with
little or no modification throughout the first centuries of our era. It
must however be remembered that the few details that we have given,
omitting much of the grosser particulars, are the views absolutely
expressed by the most educated and intelligent part of the community; and
that it would have required infinitely darker colours adequately to have
portrayed the dense ignorance and superstition of the mass of the Jews. It
is impossible to receive the report of supposed marvellous occurrences
from an age and people like this, without the gravest suspicion. Miracles
which spring from such a hot‐bed of superstition are too natural in such a
soil to be the object of surprise; and in losing their exceptional
character, their claims on attention are proportionally weakened, if not
altogether destroyed. Preternatural interference with the affairs of life
and with the phenomena of nature was the rule in those days, not the
exception, and miracles in fact had apparently lost all novelty, and
through familiarity had become degraded into mere commonplace.”
“There can be no doubt that the writers of the New Testament shared in the
popular superstitions of the Jews.”
Before proceeding further, I must draw the reader’s attention to three
affirmations in this important passage.
1st. That the educated Jews of the time of Jesus were a prey to the
superstitions in question.
2nd. That the common class of Jews were a prey to yet grosser
superstitious.
3rd. That the followers of Jesus, who were chiefly Jews of the lower
classes, and the authors of the Gospels, shared in these superstitions.
The author devotes not less than fifty pages to a minute description of
the superstitions of the educated classes. These are alleged to have been
of so gross a nature, that the reader will get but a very imperfect
conception of the point at issue, unless I give a brief sketch of some of
them.
I. The Jews are affirmed to have believed in an innumerable multitude of
angels, whose agency was continually displayed in the ordinary phenomena
of nature. They presided over and energized in its ordinary operations, as
for instance, in thunder, lightning, the winds, the seas, frost, hail,
rain, mists, heat, light, &c.; heaven and earth in fact are filled with
them, and they are also continually busying themselves in human affairs,
of which minute details are given.
II. They are alleged to have believed in a demonology of the most
phantastic description. To this I have elsewhere sufficiently alluded.
III. They are likewise affirmed to have believed that the sun, moon and
stars are rational beings, and traces of this belief are distinctly
affirmed to exist in the New Testament.
IV. The belief in sorcery, witchcraft and magic is affirmed to have been
universal among them. To give the reader an idea of the grossness of these
beliefs, to which even the educated classes are affirmed to have been a
prey, I must quote the following passage:
“Amulets consisting of seals, or pieces of paper, with charms written upon
them, were hung round the necks of the sick, and considered efficacious
for their cure. Charms, spells and mutterings were constantly said over
wounds, against unlucky meetings, to make people sleep, to heal diseases,
and to avert enchantments; against mad dogs for instance, against the
demon of blindness and the like, as well as formulæ for averting the evil
eye, and mutterings over diseases.” Here follow several pages of
unutterable absurdities. It is not too much to say, that there was hardly
an occurrence in nature, and hardly an event of daily life, which was not
influenced by these supernatural powers, and very frequently in a manner
unspeakably grotesque. If such were the beliefs of educated people, urges
the author (and he tells us that he has omitted the grosser forms of
them), what must have been those of the lower orders, and the extent of
their degraded superstition? It must be kept constantly in mind that the
followers of Jesus chiefly consisted of persons taken from the lower
strata of society. But the author in express words charges them with
sharing in such beliefs. If they did not, the reference to them would have
no bearing on the argument.
We have therefore in this portion of the work a definite issue raised for
our consideration. It is no vague charge of general boundless credulity
and superstition, such as is generally urged against the followers of
Jesus and the authors of the Gospels. It is presented to us in a clear and
definite form. I fully allow that if this charge could be substantiated,
it would deprive the Evangelists of all historical credit.
The issue which is thus raised is consequently one of the highest
importance. It will be necessary therefore for us carefully to examine the
mode in which it is attempted to establish the truth of these charges. The
process is an extremely singular one.
When we have a set of writings before us and endeavour to estimate the
amount of credulity and superstition to which their authors were a prey,
the only legitimate mode of proceeding is to subject these writings to a
thorough and minute examination as to the indications of credulity and
superstition contained in them. Having done this, it then becomes our duty
to ascertain the amount of general good sense or the want of it which is
displayed by them in these or in other subjects, and then to form a
general conclusion by fairly balancing the indications of credulity and
good sense against each other. The author, however, seems not to have had
the smallest idea that it is the duty of the critic to ascertain what are
the facts of the case as presented by the writings, and to form a general
conclusion by a careful review of the entire evidence. On the contrary,
his mode of reasoning is to quote a number of opinions held by various
writers, widely separated from each other in time, to charge them on the
contemporaries of our Lord, and refer to nearly every passage in the New
Testament which has even the remotest bearing on the subject, for the
purpose of fastening these superstitions on the followers of Jesus. Such a
mode of reasoning can only avail to establish a foregone conclusion.
Again: In forming a judgment on such a subject, it also behoves us most
carefully to consider whether the subject‐matter of the writings is or is
not of such a character, that if their authors had been addicted to such
gross superstitions, there would not of necessity have been frequent
examples of them in their pages? Also whether the absence of such
references, when the subject on which they were writing was certain to
have suggested them to their minds, does not constitute a strong proof
that these superstitions were not held by them? In one word, it is absurd
to attempt to charge writers with boundless credulity and superstition, on
the ground that a multitude of grotesque beliefs were prevalent in their
day. No author can be held responsible for beliefs other than those which
appear in his pages, especially when subject‐matter of his writings would
have been certain to call them into activity if he had entertained them.
The course pursued by the author is directly opposite to this. He has been
compelled to adopt it, because it is the only method by which extreme
credulity and superstition can be fastened on the writers of the Gospels.
The available contemporary literature, besides that contained in the New
Testament, which can throw light on the opinions of the followers of
Jesus, is very small. The point which requires proof is that the entire
Jewish nation, _without any exception_, was a prey to the basest
superstition and credulity. Unless this can be established, the charge
against the authors of the Gospels falls to the ground, except so far as
it can be proved by the Gospels themselves. The contemporary proof of it,
however, failing, he endeavours to substantiate his position by quoting
the opinions of writers separated from the times of Jesus by several
centuries, and affirming that they were held by the entire body of His
contemporaries. Such a mode of reasoning is useless to support anything
but a foregone conclusion.
A brief reference to the authorities relied upon will at once expose the
fallacy of the argument. First, certain differences existing between the
Septuagint and the Hebrew Scriptures are pressed into the service, which
are no instances of either credulity or superstition. Then the frequent
idolatries which prevailed among the Jews prior to the captivity are
adduced as a proof of the superstitious tendencies of the Jewish mind, as
if superstitions prevalent at the time of Becket were any evidence of the
condition of English thought at the present day. Next the absurdities in
the Apocryphal Book of Tobit are put in as evidence, although the contrary
evidence afforded by the other books of the Apocrypha, which contain no
traces of such superstitions, is left without mention. The writings of an
Assyrian Jew who lived about three hundred and fifty years before the
Christian era are about as valid to prove the opinions held by Christ and
his followers as the opinions of Cicero would be in evidence of the
beliefs of Constantine. Then reference is made to the angelology and
demonology contained in the writings of Philo, who was unquestionably a
contemporary of our Lord; but not the smallest hint is given to the reader
that he was deeply tinged with the principles of the Neo‐Platonic
philosophy, a mode of thought wholly alien from that of the Palestinian
Jews, or that Philo was himself an Alexandrian Jew. Next the book of Enoch
is quoted, which (whenever it was written, for its date is uncertain) is
unquestionably not the work of a Palestinian Jew. This book, which is an
Apocalypse, contains a monstrous angelology and demonology, and abounds
with extravagances. Although part of it was written prior to the Advent,
other portions are clearly subsequent to it. Its author is unknown; but it
is highly probable from certain resemblances of expression between it and
the New Testament, that he was acquainted with portions of the latter; or,
to state the theory of unbelievers, that the authors of the New Testament
borrowed from it. If this view is true, then it is evident that they must
have rejected its angelology and demonology, for that contained in the New
Testament is utterly dissimilar in character to that which we read in the
book of Enoch. As far, therefore, as the evidence of this book is
concerned, it affords a distinct proof that they were not a prey to its
monstrous superstitions. This remark is equally applicable to the book of
Tobit, and the writings of Philo.
But there is a reference made to Philo which deserves particular notice as
an exemplification of the mode adopted by those who endeavour to fix the
charge of unbounded credulity on the authors of the Gospels. I cite the
author.
“The belief that the sun, moon and stars were living entities possessed of
souls was generally held by the Jews at the beginning of our era, along
with Greek philosophers, and we shall presently see it expressed by the
fathers. Philo Judæus considers the stars spiritual beings full of virtue
and perfection, and that to them is granted lordship over other heavenly
bodies, not absolute, but as viceroys under the Supreme Being. We find a
similar view expressed regarding the nature of the stars in the
Apocalypse, and it constantly occurs in the Talmud and Targums.”
“We find,” says the author, “a similar view expressed regarding the nature
of the stars in the Apocalypse,” _i.e._ that the stars are spiritual
beings full of virtue and perfection, and that they hold lordship over
other heavenly bodies. No quotation is made from this book, but four
passages are referred to in a note as proving this. They are as follows:
“The mystery of the seven stars which thou sawest in my right hand, and
the seven golden candlesticks. The seven stars are the angels of the seven
churches, and the seven candlesticks which thou sawest are the seven
churches.” (Rev. i. 20.) With as good reason may it be said that the book
of Revelation teaches the rationality of candlesticks.
“These things saith He that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven
stars.” (Rev. iii. 1.) It is difficult to see how this proves that the
author of the Revelation was of opinion that the stars were rational
entities. The next passage referred to (Rev. iv. 5) makes no mention of
stars at all, but of “seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which
are the seven Spirits of God.” The last reference is: “I saw a star fall
from heaven unto the earth; and to him was given the key of the bottomless
pit.” (Rev. ix. 1.) Here a star is spoken of as a living agent; but to
refer in proof of this to a book which is full of symbols and is an avowed
vision is ridiculous and misleading. On the contrary, the New Testament
supplies the most unquestionable evidence that its writers were free from
this superstition, into which even philosophers had fallen.
The next writer referred to, to prove that the followers of Jesus were a
prey to credulity and superstition, is Josephus, in his narrative of the
signs which preceded the destruction of Jerusalem.
To what extent Josephus embellished these signs may be a question. Most of
them have a very heathen aspect, and it is unquestionable that he was much
disposed to conciliate his heathen readers. It is sufficient to observe
that the pages of the New Testament contain nothing resembling them.
But the chief source whence these ineffable puerilities are derived, and
charged on the contemporaries of our Lord, and through them on the writers
of the New Testament, is the Talmud. Probably there are no writings in
existence from which a more monstrous set of absurdities can be collected
than from those of the Talmudists. But how does this prove that this mass
of nonsense was believed in by the Jewish nation in our Lord’s day? One
portion of the Talmud, the Mishna, was composed between A.D. 180 and A.D.
200, or some years after the date assigned by unbelievers to the Fourth
Gospel. The lateness of this date is urged by them as conclusive proof
that that Gospel does not embody the real traditions of the early
followers of Jesus. How then can it be urged with any thing like
consistency that the Mishna adequately represents their views respecting
the order of nature? But the other portion of the Talmud, the Gemara, was
not put forth in a written form prior to A.D. 500. To quote works thus
remote in time as proofs of the superstitions of the followers of Jesus,
is to adopt a course which if applied generally to history, would reduce
it to a tissue of falsehoods. Bishop Jewell was a believer in witchcraft;
but it would be absurd if some future writer were to quote the writings of
modern spiritualists as a proof that he believed in their doctrines.
Nor is it true that the opinions of the masses of a nation are at all
adequately represented by those of its learned men, especially when
learning, as in the case in question, assumed the most unbounded licence
of speculation. In most cases the common sense of the masses who are
brought into contact with the hard facts of daily life will preserve them
from puerilities, into which learning, which draws exclusively on the
imagination, is certain to fall. There is sufficient evidence of the
superstition of the masses during the middle ages; but nothing would be
more absurd than to quote some monstrous opinions held by the great
scholastic writers to prove that they were the current opinions of the
vulgar. Yet the principle here adopted is to adduce opinions propounded by
learned writers, who lived centuries afterwards, as a proof that they were
current among the entire Jewish race at the time of Jesus Christ.
The remaining references in proof of this position are still more
noteworthy. To establish the superstition of the Jews at the time of the
Advent, a set of opinions are adduced which were held by Christian
Fathers, whose writings cover a period of not less than four centuries. A
list of them will be sufficient. The apocryphal Barnabas and Hermas,
Justin Martyr, Theophilus, Clement of Alexandria, Tatian, Tertullian,
Cyprian, Origen, Augustine, Jerome, Chrysostom, Lactantius, Eusebius, and
Cyril of Jerusalem. A number of grotesque opinions are collected from
these writers, as though they could have any possible bearing on the
question whether the followers of Jesus were able correctly to report what
they saw and heard.
I submit therefore that the facts adduced utterly fail to establish the
charge of intense superstition and credulity against the followers of
Jesus. But I go further, and affirm that they furnish the means of giving
a most conclusive proof of the contrary.
These quotations furnish us with a clear and conclusive proof, which is
also furnished by the entire range of literature, that when writers are
the prey of a definite class of superstitions, their pages will afford
abundant evidence not only of their existence, but of their nature and
character. This, of course, must be qualified by the supposition that the
subject‐matter on which they wrote is one suitable to call their latent
superstitions into activity. This always happens when the works are of a
religious character. In such cases they will faithfully reflect the
superstitions entertained by their authors. This is pre‐eminently the case
with all the writings in question. They are all on religious subjects, on
which they allowed their imaginations to run riot. They entertained a
number of grotesque opinions, and accordingly we find in their writings a
grotesque super‐naturalism, exactly corresponding to the peculiar ideas of
each individual writer. On the principle that “out of the abundance of the
heart the mouth speaketh,” we may be quite certain that when an author is
extremely credulous and superstitious, it will find expression in his
pages whenever he is writing on a subject on which his imagination gives
scope to exhibit them.
I put the argument as follows: all writers exhibit in their pages the
superstitions to which they are a prey. The writers of the New Testament
do not exhibit the superstitions in question. It follows therefore that
from these particular superstitions they are free. Consequently the charge
against them of intense superstition and credulity falls to the ground, as
far as it rests on the evidence in question.
The amount of subject‐matter in the New Testament which, independently of
a general belief in miracles, the opponents of Christianity can designate
as superstitious, is of a very limited and definite nature. It may be said
to be almost exclusively confined to a belief in the reality of
possession;—a few cases of disease occasioned by Satanic agency;—an
occasional intervention of angels, and their power to act on nature;—and
perhaps that demonology and heathenism were in some way connected with
each other. This is the sum total of such beliefs which appear on the face
of the New Testament. They appear in unequal degrees in the works of
different writers; and viewing them as mere human compositions, we have no
right to charge on one writer the beliefs of another. The book of
Revelation, and its imagery as professedly merely seen in a vision, cannot
fairly be introduced into this controversy.
If then we concede, for the sake of argument, that the Jews in the time of
Christ were a prey to the extravagant superstitions referred to; if they
believed that the whole course of nature and human life was incessantly
interfered with by an army of spirits in numbers passing all
comprehension, and that these interferences were of the most grotesque and
phantastic character; if they universally believed in magic, charms and
incantations, the non‐appearance of such phenomena in the pages of the New
Testament is a proof that its authors were not a prey to the current
superstitions of the day. No inconsiderable number of supernatural events
are recorded in their pages, but unbelief itself is compelled to admit
that they are all of a dignified character, with perhaps the exception of
the entrance of the demons into the swine, and the discovery of the piece
of money in the mouth of the fish. From what is monstrous, grotesque and
phantastic, they are absolutely free.
If it be conceded, for the sake of argument, that miracles are possible,
then it cannot be denied that those of the New Testament, taken as a
whole, stand out in marked contrast to the current supernaturalism of
superstition. Their whole conception is lofty; there is in them nothing
mean or contemptible; they subserve a great purpose; they are worthy of
that great character to whom they are ascribed, Jesus Christ. I put the
question boldly: how is it, if the followers of Jesus were a prey to the
degrading superstitions above referred to, that we find no indications of
them in their pages? Also: how is it possible that men of such a character
should have invented such a number of noble creations? Let unbelievers
account for this on any principle which a sound philosophy can recognise.
But further: the Gospels mention a certain number of possessions, and
their cures effected by our Lord. Here then we are in the very presence of
a demonology such as was actually believed in by the followers of Jesus.
Here, therefore, is the very condition of mind and outward circumstances
where, if they had been a prey to the phantastic and disgusting beliefs
about demons above referred to, such beliefs would certainly have made
their appearance in their pages. But, as I have shown, the demonology of
the Gospels stands in marked contrast to that of the Talmud, of Josephus,
and of the Christian Fathers. We have no fumigations of demoniacs with the
liver of a fish, we hear nothing of a demon drawn out of a man’s nose, and
overturning a basin of water, nothing of a demon inhabiting every private
closet. On the contrary, their action is described as mental, and, through
the mind, affecting the body, with the exception of a few doubtful cases.
I am not here arguing whether a belief in the reality of demoniacal
possession is a superstition or not. But I affirm that if the writers of
the New Testament had been a prey to the superstitions with which they are
charged, these are the narratives in which they could not have failed to
make their appearance. Again: It has been affirmed that they held a
monstrous angelology. I reply that although angels are unquestionably
stated to have appeared, and their existence is affirmed by the writers of
the New Testament, still their recorded appearances are rare. They are
confined to a few very remarkable occasions, viz.: the Annunciation and
birth of our Lord, the temptation, the agony in the garden, and the
resurrection. Surely this does not look as if the authors of the Gospels
thought that they were always interfering with the course of nature or the
events of life. In the Acts of the Apostles, they appear at the Ascension;
once to liberate St. Peter, and at another time the Apostles, from prison;
to direct Philip to preach to the eunuch; twice in a vision to St. Paul;
and Herod Agrippa is also said to have been smitten by the ministry of an
angel. There were certainly many occasions when, if the writers had
believed in the habitual intervention of angels, we should have found them
introduced. Thus an angel is not sent to deliver Paul from prison, or to
still the tempest, but simply to assure him of his safety. St. Paul
enumerates in a passage of some length the various dangers which beset him
in his missions, especially mentioning the perils he encountered in
travel. But neither he nor St. Luke once refers to an angelic intervention
in his favour. In numerous passages he refers to dangers and persecutions
which he encountered. But it is our Lord, and not angels, who delivered
him. Is this consistent with a belief in their habitual intervention in
nature? If he was the visionary which he has been asserted to have been,
would he not have been continually seeing visions of angels for his
protection?
In St. Paul’s writings we are in the presence of documents which are in
the highest degree historical. Even those who endeavour to prove that the
Gospels and the Acts were not written until the second century, are
obliged to allow that at least four of the most important of his letters
were written within 30 years after the Crucifixion, and that the evidence
that four of the remainder are his, vastly preponderates. Here then we are
in the presence of historical documents of the highest order, compared
with which such a writing as the book of Enoch is worthless, and the
Talmud and the Fathers are modern compositions. What light then do these
letters throw on the opinions of St. Paul and the Pauline Churches? Much
every way: they let us into the secret of their inner life. They tell us
that these Christians thought they possessed certain supernatural gifts;
that St. Paul asserted that he wrought miracles; that demons by an
invisible agency tempted men to sin, and opposed the progress of the
Gospel; but beyond this there is scarcely a trace of angelology or
demonology in them. With these epistles in our hands, is it credible that
their writer, or those to whom he wrote, held a multitude of monstrous and
phantastic beliefs on this subject? Are not these writings characterized
by supreme good sense? Do they not in this point of view marvellously
contrast even with those of the earliest Fathers? The writer undoubtedly
believed that unseen spiritual agencies were capable of acting on the mind
of man, and that they were active agents in the production of moral evil;
but where is the evidence that he considered that external nature was
under their control, or that they made themselves visible to the mortal
eye? Although he affirms that he possessed a supernatural illumination on
religious subjects, only on two occasions does he refer to visions as
actually seen by him; and he directly affirms that he had the power of
distinguishing the ecstatic from the ordinary condition of his mind. Even
with the aid of the Acts of the Apostles, we can only add a few more to
the number. Surely this is not the mental condition of a man who was a
prey to unbounded superstition. Contrast the amount of good sense in the
epistles of St. Paul with an equal number of consecutive pages from the
Fathers and the Talmud, and the difference is enormous. Where are the
ineffable puerilities found in these writings even hinted at in those of
St. Paul?
Again: if we include in our examination the other writings of the New
Testament, they wholly fail to supply us with any evidence of the
superstition or credulity of their authors. On the contrary they are
characterized by the marks of uniform good sense. It will be doubtless
objected that they, as well as St. Paul, were bad logicians, and that
their applications of the Old Testament Scriptures are inapt: but this
does not affect their trustworthiness as historians. They were undoubtedly
men of great religious fervour, yet they are both sparing in the use of
miracles, and when they report them, the miraculous action is never
represented as extending beyond the necessities of the case. Their
miracles consist of simple acts, as for instance the cure of diseases, but
all marvellous superadditions are wanting. It has been urged that in
comparing the miracles of the Gospels with other miraculous narratives, we
have no right to do more than compare the external miracle of the one with
the external miracle of the other; as for instance a resurrection with a
resurrection, or a cure of blindness recorded in one with a similar case
recorded in another; and not to take into account either the external
circumstances or the moral aspect of the miracle. I have elsewhere proved
that this position is untenable. But for the purpose of the argument let
us here assume that all the circumstances may be the invention of the
narrator. If it be so, it proves at any rate the soundness of his judgment
and the elevation of his ideas, _i.e._ that it is impossible that he could
have been either intensely superstitious or credulous. How is it possible,
I ask, for minds which were a prey to such monstrous beliefs as those
which we have been considering, to have dramatized miraculous narratives
of the elevated type of those contained in the Gospels? Would not all the
circumstances with which they invested them be the counter‐part of their
own degraded conceptions?
But there is one most distinctive phenomenon presented by the Gospels
which affords a conclusive proof that neither their authors nor the
followers of Jesus could have been a prey to either degrading superstition
or credulous fanaticism. I allude to the fact that, whatever theory may be
propounded to account for their origin, the Gospels, as a matter of fact,
unquestionably contain a delineation of the greatest of all characters,
whether actual or ideal, that of Jesus Christ. I shall hereafter draw
attention to the portraiture of this character for the purpose of proving
that they are veritable historical documents. In this place I refer to it
simply for the purpose of proving that their authors and those who
invented the alleged fictions of which their contents consist, were
possessed of a soundness of judgment which is wholly inconsistent with the
truth of the assertion that they were a prey to boundless superstition or
credulity.
For the purpose of the argument I must assume that this character is a
fictitious one, because to assume that it is a delineation of an actual
historical character, would be to take for granted the entire question at
issue. If the Jesus of the Evangelists is an historical personage, there
can be no doubt respecting the claims of the Gospel to be a divine
revelation. But even if we make the assumption above mentioned, it is
quite clear that those persons who invented the character, or who put it
together out of the number of legendary stories floating about in the
Church, must have been possessed of a sound judgment, and the highest
appreciation of what was great and noble. The character we have before us,
and it is confessedly the noblest which can be found either in history or
fiction. The inventors, whoever they were, have succeeded in portraying a
great harmonious whole. Such a character could only have been delineated
by men possessed of sound discriminating judgment. The more the Gospels
are depreciated as histories the more does this depreciation establish the
credit of their authors as the successful delineators of an ideal
character, to which they have succeeded in imparting a naturalness which
men of the most exalted genius have mistaken for an historical reality.
They must have been, therefore, consummate masters of the art of ideal
delineation. The mental powers adequate to effect such results are those
of high genius, to which in this case must have been added a very elevated
conception of morality. Such mental qualities are never exhibited by men
who are the prey of gross credulity and superstition. The great ideal
delineations of poets have been only capable of being produced by the
_élite_ of the human race. On the other hand, if we assume that the
character is a fictitious one, and its inventors men of the mental calibre
which they are affirmed to have been by those against whom I am reasoning,
it would have been inevitable that its proportions should be marred by the
introduction into it of traits marked by meanness, puerility, and
monstrosity.
In support of this assertion we have no occasion to appeal to theories but
to facts. Happily antiquity has preserved to us several delineations of a
mythical Jesus on which the inventors have stamped the most unmistakable
impress of their own credulity and superstition. I need not say that I
allude to the Apocryphal Gospels, the delineations of Jesus which they
contain, and above all to their miraculous narratives. Those who reiterate
these charges against the authors of the Canonical Gospels, are very slow
to draw attention to their bearing on this portion of the argument. In the
Apocryphal Gospels we are brought face to face with the legendary spirit
exerting itself in the invention of miraculous stories. There can be no
doubt that their authors were both extremely credulous and superstitious;
and their miraculous narratives give us the precise measure of their
credulity. There is every reason to believe that two of these compositions
were written as early as the second century. What, I ask, is the general
character of the miracles which they have attributed to Jesus? There can
be only one answer. They are mean, ridiculous, degraded, burlesque,
destitute of all trait of moral grandeur. If the authors of the four
Gospels, or the inventors of their miraculous narratives, whoever they may
have been, had been a prey to similar credulity and superstition, the
marks of them would have been indelibly stamped on their pages.
These documents also contain accounts of miracles wrought by Jesus, some
of which, as bare facts, are precisely the same as some recorded in the
Canonical Gospels, _i.e._ they contain accounts of resurrections from the
dead, and the cure of diseases. I ask, do their accompanying circumstances
and moral aspect stand as nothing in our estimate of the credibility of
their authors? Compare the account of the resurrection of Lazarus, or that
of our Lord himself, with the resurrections in the Apocryphal Gospels, and
mark the difference. Compare likewise the other miracles, which, as bare
facts, resemble one another. The one have the stamp of historical
probability, and precisely fit in with the lofty character of Jesus; the
other of an unbelievable legend, in which the character is degraded to a
level with the conceptions of the inventors.
Let not unbelievers, therefore, decline to grapple with the question. Let
them cease to pass it over in silence. I propose to them the following
questions for solution. If both sets of Gospels originated with minds
intensely credulous and superstitious, whence has come the difference
between them? Why is the one set of miracles dignified, and the other
mean? Whence the entire difference of their moral aspect? Why is the Jesus
of the Canonical Gospels the most elevated personage in history, and the
Jesus of the Apocryphal ones, one of the most mean and silly? If two of
the Apocryphal and the four Canonical Gospels are the production of the
superstition and credulity of the same century, whence the marvellous
contrast between them? Which of the Fathers of the second or third century
was equal to the task of reducing a mass of floating legends, the
creations of numbers of superstitious men, into their present form, as
they stand in our Canonical Gospels? Would they not certainly have
coloured the events with their own absurdities? If, on the other hand, it
be allowed that the Canonical Gospels are the production of the first
century, and the Apocryphal Gospels of subsequent ones, how came the
credulous followers of Jesus to produce fictions dramatized with such
admirable taste in the first century, and the same spirit in subsequent
centuries to present so striking a contrast? The only possible answer
which can be returned to these questions is that the phenomena of the
Canonical Gospels are inconsistent with the supposition that their
miraculous narratives are the invention of men who were the prey either of
credulity or dense superstition; they must have been men well able to
distinguish between a genuine miracle and a mythic parody of one.
But it has been urged that the dignified character of Jesus induced the
compilers of our present Gospels to select all the miraculous stories of a
high type which were current in the hotbed of Christian fanaticism, and to
attribute them to Jesus, and to suppress all of a contrary description. If
this be the true solution of the facts, then it certainly follows that the
compilers of the Gospels must have been free from the superstitions of the
times in which they lived. Otherwise, how came they to select all the
elevated stories and attribute them to Jesus, and to consign those of a
lower type to a well‐merited oblivion? Is it not a fact that credulous and
superstitious people have often attributed what is contemptible and mean
to elevated characters? Let the Apocryphal Gospels bear witness. It
follows, therefore, that even on this supposition the question must be
decided in favour of the authors of our present Canonical Gospels, that
they must have been free from the degraded superstitious to which their
fellow‐believers were a prey.
But there is yet another problem, even if we assume the above supposition
to be true, which urgently demands solution. If, among the mass of legends
with which the history of Jesus was incrusted, a certain portion of the
miraculous stories were of an elevated type, who among His credulous and
superstitious followers were the inventors of them? Were they men of like
credulity with the remainder? There are only two alternatives. They were,
or they were not. If they were, I ask, how came they to invent elevated
stories? If they were not, then it follows that there were persons among
His followers who were neither intensely credulous nor superstitious. If
the latter be the alternative adopted, then the theory which I have been
considering, which attributes to the followers of Jesus such a degree of
those qualities as to render their historical testimony valueless, falls
to the ground.
It follows, therefore, on a careful consideration of the position, that
the data on which the charge which we have been considering is made
against the followers of Jesus and the authors of the Gospels utterly fail
to establish it; and that the phenomena of the New Testament prove the
contrary to have been the fact.