words attributed to Jesus. If I declare, as I have no hesitation in doing,
that I utterly disbelieve in the existence of "unclean spirits," and,
consequently, in the possibility of their "coming forth" out of a man, I
suppose that Dr. Wace will tell me I am disregarding the testimony "of our
Lord" (_l. c._ p. 255). For if these words were really used, the most
resourceful of reconcilers can hardly venture to affirm that they are
compatible with a disbelief in "these things." As the learned and {336}
fair-minded, as well as orthodox, Dr. Alexander remarks, in an editorial
note to the article "Demoniacs," in the _Biblical Cyclopaedia_ (vol. i. p.
664, note):--
... On the lowest grounds on which our Lord and His Apostles can be
placed they must, at least, be regarded as _honest_ men. Now, though
honest speech does not require that words should be used always and
only in their etymological sense, it does require that they should not
be used so as to affirm what the speaker knows to be false. Whilst,
therefore, our Lord and His Apostles might use the word [Greek:
daimonizesthai], or the phrase [Greek: daimonion echein], as a popular
description of certain diseases, without giving in to the belief which
lay at the source of such a mode of expression, they could not speak of
demons entering into a man, or being cast out of him, without pledging
themselves to the belief of an actual possession of the man by the
demons. (Campbell, _Prel. Diss._ vi. 1, 10.) If, consequently, they did
not hold this belief, they spoke not as honest men.
The story which we are considering does not rest on the authority of the
second Gospel alone. The third confirms the second, especially in the
matter of commanding the unclean spirit to come out of the man (Luke viii.
29); and, although the first Gospel either gives a different version of the
same story, or tells another of like kind, the essential point remains: "If
thou cast us out, send us away into the herd of swine. And He said unto
them: Go!" (Matt. viii. 31, 32).
If the concurrent testimony of the three synoptics, then, is really
sufficient to do away with all rational doubt as to a matter of fact of the
utmost practical and speculative importance--belief or disbelief in which
may affect, and has affected, men's lives and their conduct towards other
men in the most serious {337} way--then I am bound to believe that Jesus
implicitly affirmed himself to possess a "knowledge of the unseen world,"
which afforded full confirmation of the belief in demons and possession
current among his contemporaries. If the story is true, the mediaeval theory
of the invisible world may be, and probably is, quite correct; and the
witchfinders, from Sprenger to Hopkins and Mather, are much-maligned men.
On the other hand, humanity, noting the frightful consequences of this
belief; common sense, observing the futility of the evidence on which it is
based, in all cases that have been properly investigated; science, more and
more seeing its way to enclose all the phenomena of so-called "possession"
within the domain of pathology, so far as they are not to be relegated to
that of the police--all these powerful influences concur in warning us, at
our peril, against accepting the belief without the most careful scrutiny
of the authority on which it rests.
I can discern no escape from this dilemma: either Jesus said what he is
reported to have said, or he did not. In the former case, it is inevitable
that his authority on matters connected with the "unseen world" should be
roughly shaken; in the latter, the blow falls upon the authority of the
synoptic gospels. If their report on a matter of such stupendous and
far-reaching practical import as this is untrustworthy, how can we be sure
of its trustworthiness in other cases? The favourite "earth," in which the
hard-pressed reconciler takes refuge, that the Bible does {338} not profess
to teach science,[85] is stopped in this instance. For the question of the
existence of demons and of possession by them, though it lies strictly
within the province of science, is also of the deepest moral and religious
significance. If physical and mental disorders are caused by demons,
Gregory of Tours and his contemporaries rightly considered that relics and
exorcists were more useful than doctors; the gravest questions arise as to
the legal and moral responsibilities of persons inspired by demoniacal
impulses; and our whole conception of the universe and of our relations to
it becomes totally different from what it would be on the contrary
hypothesis.
The theory of life of an average mediaeval Christian was as different from
that of an average nineteenth-century Englishman as that of a West African
negro is now, in these respects. The modern world is slowly, but surely,
shaking off these and other monstrous survivals of savage delusions, and,
whatever happens, {339} it will not return to that wallowing in the mire.
Until the contrary is proved, I venture to doubt whether, at this present
moment, any Protestant theologian, who has a reputation to lose, will say
that he believes the Gadarene story.
The choice then lies between discrediting those who compiled the Gospel
biographies and disbelieving the Master, whom they, simple souls, thought
to honour by preserving such traditions of the exercise of his authority
over Satan's invisible world. This is the dilemma. No deep scholarship,
nothing but a knowledge of the revised version (on which it is to be
supposed all that mere scholarship can do has been done), with the
application thereto of the commonest canons of common sense, is needful to
enable us to make a choice between its alternatives. It is hardly doubtful
that the story, as told in the first Gospel, is merely a version of that
told in the second and third. Nevertheless, the discrepancies are serious
and irreconcilable; and, on this ground alone, a suspension of judgment, at
the least, is called for. But there is a great deal more to be said. From
the dawn of scientific biblical criticism until the present day, the
evidence against the long-cherished notion that the three synoptic Gospels
are the works of three independent authors, each prompted by Divine
inspiration, has steadily accumulated, until, at the present time, there is
no visible escape from the conclusion that each of the three is a
compilation consisting of a groundwork common to all three--the threefold
tradition; and of a superstructure, consisting, firstly, {340} of matter
common to it with one of the others, and, secondly, of matter special to
each. The use of the terms "groundwork" and "superstructure" by no means
implies that the latter must be of later date than the former. On the
contrary, some parts of it may be and probably are, older than some parts
of the groundwork.[86]
The story of the Gadarene swine belongs to the groundwork; at least, the
essential part of it, in which the belief in demoniac possession is
expressed, does; and therefore the compilers of the first, second, and
third Gospels, whoever they were, certainly accepted that belief (which,
indeed, was universal among both Jews and pagans at that time), and
attributed it to Jesus.
What, then, do we know about the originator, or originators, of this
groundwork--of that threefold tradition which all three witnesses (in
Paley's phrase) agree upon--that we should allow their mere statements to
outweigh the counter arguments of humanity, of common sense, of exact
science, and to imperil the respect which all would be glad to be able to
render to their Master?
Absolutely nothing.[87] There is no proof, nothing {341} more than a fair
presumption, that any one of the Gospels existed, in the state in which we
find it in the authorised version of the Bible, before the second century,
or, in other words, sixty or seventy years after the events recorded. And,
between that time and the date of the oldest extant manuscripts of the
Gospels, there is no telling what additions and alterations and
interpolations may have been made. It may be said that this is all mere
speculation, but it is a good deal more. As competent scholars and honest
men, our revisers have felt compelled to point out that such things have
happened even since the date of the oldest known manuscripts. The oldest
two copies of the second Gospel end with the 8th verse of the 16th chapter;
the remaining twelve verses are spurious, and it is noteworthy that the
maker of the addition has not hesitated to introduce a speech in which
Jesus promises his disciples that "in My name shall they cast out devils."
The other passage "rejected to the margin" is still more instructive. It is
that touching apologue, with its profound ethical sense, of the woman taken
in adultery--which, if internal evidence were an infallible guide, might
well be affirmed to be a typical example of the teachings of Jesus. Yet,
say the revisers, pitilessly, "Most of the ancient authorities omit John
vii. 53-viii. 11." Now let any reasonable man ask himself this question.
If, after an approximate settlement of the canon of the New Testament, and
even later than the fourth and fifth centuries, literary fabricators had
the skill and the audacity to {342} make such additions and interpolations
as these, what may they have done when no one had thought of a canon; when
oral tradition, still unfixed, was regarded as more valuable than such
written records as may have existed in the latter portion of the first
century? Or, to take the other alternative, if those who gradually settled
the canon did not know of the existence of the oldest codices which have
come down to us; or if, knowing them, they rejected their authority, what
is to be thought of their competency as critics of the text?
People who object to free criticism of the Christian Scriptures forget that
they are what they are in virtue of very free criticism; unless the
advocates of inspiration are prepared to affirm that the majority of
influential ecclesiastics during several centuries were safeguarded against
error. For, even granting that some books of the period were inspired, they
were certainly few amongst many; and those who selected the canonical
books, unless they themselves were also inspired, must be regarded in the
light of mere critics, and, from the evidence they have left of their
intellectual habits, very uncritical critics. When one thinks that such
delicate questions as those involved fell into the hands of men like Papias
(who believed in the famous millenarian grape story); of Irenaeus with his
"reasons" for the existence of only four Gospels; and of such calm and
dispassionate judges as Tertullian, with his "_Credo quia impossibile_":
the marvel is that the selection which constitutes our New Testament is as
free as it is from obviously objectionable {343} matter. The apocryphal
Gospels certainly deserve to be apocryphal; but one may suspect that a
little more critical discrimination would have enlarged the Apocrypha not
inconsiderably.
At this point a very obvious objection arises and deserves full and candid
consideration. It may be said that critical scepticism carried to the
length suggested is historical pyrrhonism; that if we are to altogether
discredit an ancient or a modern historian, because he has assumed fabulous
matter to be true, it will be as well to give up paying any attention to
history. It may be said, and with great justice, that Eginhard's _Life of
Charlemagne_ is none the less trustworthy because of the astounding
revelation of credulity, of lack of judgment, and even of respect for the
eighth commandment, which he has unconsciously made in the _History of the
Translation of the Blessed Martyrs Marcellinus and Paul_. Or, to go no
further back than the last number of this Review, surely that excellent
lady, Miss Strickland, is not to be refused all credence because of the
myth about the second James's remains, which she seems to have
unconsciously invented.
Of course this is perfectly true. I am afraid there is no man alive whose
witness could be accepted, if the condition precedent were proof that he
had never invented and promulgated a myth. In the minds of all of us there
are little places here and there, like the indistinguishable spots on a
rock which give foothold to moss or stonecrop; on which, if the germ of a
myth fall, it is certain to grow, without in the least {344} degree
affecting our accuracy or truthfulness elsewhere. Sir Walter Scott knew
that he could not repeat a story without, as he said, "giving it a new hat
and stick." Most of us differ from Sir Walter only in not knowing about
this tendency of the mythopoeic faculty to break out unnoticed. But it is
also perfectly true that the mythopoeic faculty is not equally active in
all minds, nor in all regions and under all conditions of the same mind.
David Hume was certainly not so liable to temptation as the Venerable Bede,
or even as some recent historians who could be mentioned; and the most
imaginative of debtors, if he owes five pounds, never makes an obligation
to pay a hundred out of it. The rule of common sense is _prima facie_ to
trust a witness in all matters in which neither his self-interest, his
passions, his prejudices, nor that love of the marvellous, which is
inherent to a greater or less degree in all mankind, are strongly
concerned; and, when they are involved, to require corroborative evidence
in exact proportion to the contravention of probability by the thing
testified.
Now, in the Gadarene affair, I do not think I am unreasonably sceptical if
I say that the existence of demons who can be transferred from a man to a
pig, does thus contravene probability. Let me be perfectly candid. I admit
I have no _a priori_ objection to offer. There are physical things, such as
_taeniae_ and _trichinae_, which can be transferred from men to pigs, and
_vice versa_, and which do undoubtedly produce most diabolical and deadly
effects on both. For {345} anything I can absolutely prove to the contrary,
there may be spiritual things capable of the same transmigration, with like
effects. Moreover I am bound to add that perfectly truthful persons, for
whom I have the greatest respect, believe in stories about spirits of the
present day, quite as improbable as that we are considering.
So I declare, as plainly as I can, that I am unable to show cause why these
transferable devils should not exist; nor can I deny that, not merely the
whole Roman Church, but many Wacean "infidels" of no mean repute, do
honestly and firmly believe that the activity of such like demonic beings
is in full swing in this year of grace 1889.
Nevertheless, as good Bishop Butler says, "probability is the guide of
life," and it seems to me that this is just one of the cases in which the
canon of credibility and testimony, which I have ventured to lay down, has
full force. So that, with the most entire respect for many (by no means for
all) of our witnesses for the truth of demonology, ancient and modern, I
conceive their evidence on this particular matter to be ridiculously
insufficient to warrant their conclusion.[88]
{346}
After what has been said, I do not think that any sensible man, unless he
happen to be angry, will accuse me of "contradicting the Lord and his
Apostles" if I reiterate my total disbelief in the whole Gadarene story.
But, if that story is discredited, all the other stories of demoniac
possession fall under suspicion. And if the belief in demons and demoniac
possession, which forms the sombre background of the whole picture of
primitive Christianity presented to us in the New Testament, is shaken,
what is to be said, in any case, of the uncorroborated testimony of the
Gospels with respect to "the unseen world"?
I am not aware that I have been influenced by any more bias in regard to
the Gadarene story than I have been in dealing with other cases of like
kind the investigation of which has interested me. I was brought up in the
strictest school of evangelical orthodoxy; and when I was old enough to
think for myself, I started upon my journey of inquiry with little doubt
about the general truth of what I had been taught; and with that feeling of
the unpleasantness of being called an "infidel" which, we are told, is so
right and proper. Near my journey's end, I find myself in a condition of
something more than mere doubt about these matters.
{347}
In the course of other inquiries, I have had to do with fossil remains
which looked quite plain at a distance, and became more and more indistinct
as I tried to define their outline by close inspection. There was something
there--something which, if I could win assurance about it, might mark a new
epoch in the history of the earth; but, study as long as I might, certainty
eluded my grasp. So has it been with me in my efforts to define the grand
figure of Jesus as it lies in the primary strata of Christian literature.
Is he the kindly, peaceful Christ depicted in the Catacombs? Or is he the
stern Judge who frowns above the altar of SS. Cosmas and Damianus? Or can
he be rightly represented by the bleeding ascetic, broken down by physical
pain, of too many mediaeval pictures? Are we to accept the Jesus of the
second, or the Jesus of the fourth Gospel, as the true Jesus? What did he
really say and do; and how much that is attributed to him, in speech and
action, is the embroidery of the various parties into which his followers
tended to split themselves within twenty years of his death, when even the
threefold tradition was only nascent?
If any one will answer these questions for me with something more to the
point than feeble talk about the "cowardice of agnosticism," I shall be
deeply his debtor. Unless and until they are satisfactorily answered, I say
of agnosticism in this matter, "_J'y suis, et j'y reste_."
But, as we have seen, it is asserted that I have no business to call myself
an agnostic; that if I am {348} not a Christian I am an infidel; and that I
ought to call myself by that name of "unpleasant significance." Well, I do
not care much what I am called by other people, and if I had at my side all
those who, since the Christian era, have been called infidels by other
folks, I could not desire better company. If these are my ancestors, I
prefer, with the old Frank, to be with them wherever they are. But there
are several points in Dr. Wace's contention which must be elucidated before
I can even think of undertaking to carry out his wishes. I must, for
instance, know what a Christian is. Now what is a Christian? By whose
authority is the signification of that term defined? Is there any doubt
that the immediate followers of Jesus, the "sect of the Nazarenes," were
strictly orthodox Jews, differing from other Jews not more than the
Sadducees, the Pharisees, and the Essenes differed from one another; in
fact, only in the belief that the Messiah, for whom the rest of their
nation waited, had come? Was not their chief, "James, the brother of the
Lord," reverenced alike by Sadducee, Pharisee, and Nazarene? At the famous
conference which, according to the Acts, took place at Jerusalem, does not
James declare that "myriads" of Jews, who by that time had become
Nazarenes, were "all zealous for the Law"? Was not the name of "Christian"
first used to denote the converts to the doctrine promulgated by Paul and
Barnabas at Antioch? Does the subsequent history of Christianity leave any
doubt that, from this time forth, the "little rift within {349} the lute"
caused by the new teaching, developed, if not inaugurated, at Antioch, grew
wider and wider, until the two types of doctrine irreconcilably diverged?
Did not the primitive Nazarenism, or Ebionism, develop into the Nazarenism,
and Ebionism, and Elkasaitism of later ages, and finally die out in
obscurity and condemnation as damnable heresy; while the younger doctrine
throve and pushed out its shoots into that endless variety of sects, of
which the three strongest survivors are the Roman and Greek Churches and
modern Protestantism?
Singular state of things! If I were to profess the doctrine which was held
by "James, the brother of the Lord," and by every one of the "myriads" of
his followers and co-religionists in Jerusalem up to twenty or thirty years
after the Crucifixion (and one knows not how much later at Pella), I should
be condemned with unanimity as an ebionising heretic by the Roman, Greek,
and Protestant Churches! And, probably, this hearty and unanimous
condemnation of the creed held by those who were in the closest personal
relation with their Lord is almost the only point upon which they would be
cordially of one mind. On the other hand, though I hardly dare imagine such
a thing, I very much fear that the "pillars" of the primitive
Hierosolymitan Church would have considered Dr. Wace an infidel. No one can
read the famous second chapter of Galatians and the book of Revelations
without seeing how narrow was even Paul's escape from a similar {350} fate.
And, if ecclesiastical history is to be trusted, the thirty-nine articles,
be they right or wrong, diverge from the primitive doctrine of the
Nazarenes vastly more than even Pauline Christianity did.
But, further than this, I have great difficulty in assuring myself that
even James, "the brother of the Lord," and his "myriads" of Nazarenes,
properly represented the doctrines of their Master. For it is constantly
asserted by our modern "pillars" that one of the chief features of the work
of Jesus was the instauration of Religion by the abolition of what our
sticklers for articles and liturgies, with unconscious humour, call the
narrow restrictions of the Law. Yet, if James knew this, how could the
bitter controversy with Paul have arisen; and why did one or the other side
not quote any of the various sayings of Jesus, recorded in the Gospels,
which directly bear on the question--sometimes, apparently, in opposite
directions?
So if I am asked to call myself an "infidel," I reply: To what doctrine do
you ask me to be faithful? Is it that contained in the Nicene and the
Athanasian Creeds? My firm belief is that the Nazarenes, say of the year
40, headed by James, would have stopped their ears and thought worthy of
stoning the audacious man who propounded it to them. Is it contained in the
so-called Apostles' Creed? I am pretty sure that even that would have
created a recalcitrant commotion at Pella in the year 70, among the
Nazarenes of Jerusalem, who had fled from the soldiers of Titus. And yet,
if the {351} unadulterated tradition of the teachings of "the Nazarene"
were to be found anywhere, it surely should have been amidst those not very
aged disciples who may have heard them as they were delivered.
Therefore, however sorry I may be to be unable to demonstrate that, if
necessary, I should not be afraid to call myself an "infidel," I cannot do
it. "Infidel" is a term of reproach, which Christians and Mahommedans, in
their modesty, agree to apply to those who differ from them. If he had only
thought of it, Dr. Wace might have used the term "miscreant," which, with
the same etymological signification, has the advantage of being still more
"unpleasant" to the persons to whom it is applied. But why should a man be
expected to call himself a "miscreant" or an "infidel"? That St. Patrick
"had two birthdays because he was a twin" is a reasonable and intelligible
utterance beside that of the man who should declare himself to be an
infidel on the ground of denying his own belief. It may be logically, if
not ethically, defensible that a Christian should call a Mahommedan an
infidel and _vice versa_; but, on Dr. Wace's principles, both ought to call
themselves infidels, because each applies the term to the other.