the authority" on which "these things" are stated, which authority is
Jesus Christ. He is simply an old-fashioned "infidel" who is afraid to
own to his right name. As "presbyter is priest writ large," so is
"agnostic" the mere Greek equivalent for the Latin "infidel." There is
an attractive simplicity about this solution of the problem; and it has
that advantage of being somewhat offensive to the persons attacked,
which is so dear to the less refined sort of controversialist. The
agnostic says, "I cannot find good evidence that so and so is true."
"Ah," says his adversary, seizing his opportunity, "then you declare
that Jesus Christ was untruthful, for he said so and so;" a very telling
method of rousing prejudice. But suppose that the value of the evidence
as to what Jesus may have said and done, and as to the exact nature and
scope of his authority, is just that which the agnostic finds it most
difficult to determine. If I venture to doubt that the Duke of
Wellington gave the command "Up, Guards, and at 'em!" at Waterloo, I do
not think that even Dr. Wace would accuse me of disbelieving the Duke.
Yet it would be just as reasonable to do this as to accuse any one of
denying what Jesus said, before the preliminary question as to what he
did say is settled.
Now, the question as to what Jesus really said and did is strictly a
scientific problem, which is capable of solution by no other methods
than those practised; by the historian and the literary critic. It is a
problem of immense difficulty, which has occupied some of the best heads
in Europe for the last century; and it is only of late years that their
investigations have begun to converge towards one conclusion.[30]
That kind of faith which Dr. Wace describes and lauds is of no use here.
Indeed, he himself takes pains to destroy its evidential value.
"What made the Mahommedan world? Trust and faith in the declarations and
assurances of Mahommed. And what made the Christian world? Trust and
faith in the declarations and assurances of Jesus Christ and His
Apostles" (_l.c._ p. 253). The triumphant tone of this imaginary
catechism leads me to suspect that its author has hardly appreciated its
full import. Presumably, Dr. Wace regards Mahommed as an unbeliever, or,
to use the term which he prefers, infidel; and considers that his
assurances have given rise to a vast delusion which has led, and is
leading, millions of men straight to everlasting punishment. And this
being so, the "Trust and faith" which have "made the Mahommedan world,"
in just the same sense as they have "made the Christian world," must be
trust and faith in falsehood. No man who has studied history, or even
attended to the occurrences of everyday life, can doubt the enormous
practical value of trust and faith; but as little will he be inclined to
deny that this practical value has not the least relation to the reality
of the objects of that trust and faith. In examples of patient constancy
of faith and of unswerving trust, the "Acta Martyrum" do not excel the
annals of Babism.[31]
The discussion upon which we have entered goes so thoroughly to the root
of the whole matter; the question of the day is so completely, as the
author of "Robert Elsmere" says, the value of testimony, that I shall
offer no apology for following it out somewhat in detail; and, by way
of giving substance to the argument, I shall base what I have to say
upon a case, the consideration of which lies strictly within the
province of natural science, and of that particular part of it known as
the physiology and pathology of the nervous system.
I find, in the second Gospel (chap. v.), a statement, to all appearance
intended to have the same evidential value as any other contained in
that history. It is the well-known story of the devils who were cast out
of a man, and ordered, or permitted, to enter into a herd of swine, to
the great loss and damage of the innocent Gerasene, or Gadarene, pig
owners. There can be no doubt that the narrator intends to convey to his
readers his own conviction that this casting out and entering in were
effected by the agency of Jesus of Nazareth; that, by speech and action,
Jesus enforced this conviction; nor does any inkling of the legal and
moral difficulties of the case manifest itself.
On the other hand, everything that I know of physiological and
pathological science leads me to entertain a very strong conviction that
the phenomena ascribed to possession are as purely natural as those
which constitute smallpox; everything that I know of anthropology leads
me to think that the belief in demons and demoniacal possession is a
mere survival of a once universal superstition, and that its
persistence, at the present time, is pretty much in the inverse ratio of
the general instruction, intelligence, and sound judgment of the
population among whom it prevails. Everything that I know of law and
justice convinces me that the wanton destruction of other people's
property is a misdemeanour of evil example. Again, the study of history,
and especially of that of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth
centuries, leaves no shadow of doubt on my mind that the belief in the
reality of possession and of witchcraft, justly based, alike by
Catholics and Protestants, upon this and innumerable other passages in
both the Old and New Testaments, gave rise, through the special
influence of Christian ecclesiastics, to the most horrible persecutions
and judicial murders of thousands upon thousands of innocent men, women,
and children. And when I reflect that the record of a plain and simple
declaration upon such an occasion as this, that the belief in witchcraft
and possession is wicked nonsense, would have rendered the long agony of
mediæval humanity impossible, I am prompted to reject, as dishonouring,
the supposition that such declaration was withheld out of condescension
to popular error.
"Come forth, thou unclean spirit, out of the man" (Mark v. 8)[32] are
the 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." 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
fair-minded, as well as orthodox, Dr. Alexander remarks, in an editorial
note to the article "Demoniacs" in the "Biblical Cyclopædia" (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 the 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 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 mediæval theory of the invisible world may be, and probably is,
quite correct; and the witch-finders, 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 inclose 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 not profess to teach science,[33] is stopped in this
instance. For the question of the existence of demon: 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 mediæval 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, 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, 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.[34]
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.[35] There is no proof, nothing 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 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 Irenæus 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 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 altogether
to 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 the _Nineteenth
Century_, 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
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 _læniæ_ and _trichinæ_ which can be transferred from men
to pigs, and _vice versa_, and which do undoubtedly produce most
diabolical and deadly effects on both. For 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 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.[36]
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.
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 mediæval
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 satifactorily answered, I
say of agnosticism in this matter, "_J'y suis, et j'y reste._"