In his recent volume, _Les Apôtres_, M. Renan has undertaken two tasks

of very unequal difficulty. He accounts for the origin of the Christian

belief and religion, and he writes the history of its first

propagation. These are very different things, and to do one of them is

by no means to do the other. M. Renan's historical sketch of the first

steps of the Christian movement is, whatever we may think of its

completeness and soundness, a survey of characters and facts, based on

our ordinary experience of the ways in which men act and are

influenced. Of course it opens questions and provokes dissent at every

turn; but, after all, the history of a religion once introduced into

the world is the history of the men who give it shape and preach it,

who accept or oppose it. The spread and development of all religions

have certain broad features in common, which admit of philosophical

treatment simply as phenomena, and receive light from being compared

with parallel examples of the same kind; and whether a man's historical

estimate is right, and his picture accurate and true, depends on his

knowledge of the facts, and his power to understand them and to make

them understood. No one can dispute M. Renan's qualifications for being

the historian of a religious movement. The study of religion as a

phenomenon of human nature and activity has paramount attractions for

him. His interest in it has furnished him with ample and varied

materials for comparison and generalisation. He is a scholar and a man

of learning, quick and wide in his sympathies, and he commands

attention by the singular charm of his graceful and lucid style. When,

therefore, he undertakes to relate how, as a matter of fact, the

Christian Church grew up amid the circumstances of its first

appearance, he has simply to tell the story of the progress of a

religious cause; and this is a comparatively light task for him. But he

also lays before us what he appears to consider an adequate account of

the origin of the Christian belief. The Christian belief, it must be

remembered, means, not merely the belief that there was such a person

as he has described in his former, volume, but the belief that one who

was crucified rose again from the dead, and lives for evermore above.

It is in this belief that the Christian religion had its beginning;

there is no connecting Christ and Christianity, except through the

Resurrection. The origin, therefore, of the belief in the Resurrection,

in the shape in which we have it, lies across M. Renan's path to

account for; and neither the picture which he has drawn in his former

volume, nor the history which he follows out in this, dispense him from

the necessity of facing this essential and paramount element in the

problem which he has to solve. He attempts to deal with this, the knot

of the great question. But his attempt seems to us to disclose a more

extraordinary insensibility to the real demands of the case, and to

what we cannot help calling the pitiable inadequacy of his own

explanation, than we could have conceived possible in so keen and

practised a mind.

The Resurrection, we repeat, bars the way in M. Renan's scheme for

making an intelligible transition, from the life and character which he

has sought to reproduce from the Gospels, to the first beginnings and

preaching of Christianity. The Teacher, he says, is unique in wisdom,

in goodness, in the height of his own moral stature and the Divine

elevation of his aims. The religion is, with all abatements and

imperfections, the only one known which could be the religion of

humanity. After his portraiture of the Teacher, follows, naturally

enough, as the result of that Teacher's influence and life, a religion

of corresponding elevation and promise. The passage from a teaching

such as M. Renan supposes to a religion such as he allows Christianity

to be may be reasonably understood as a natural consequence of

well-known causes, but for one thing--the interposition between the two

of an alleged event which simply throws out all reasonings drawn from

ordinary human experience. From the teaching and life of Socrates

follow, naturally enough, schools of philosophy, and an impulse which

has affected scientific thought ever since. From the preaching and life

of Mahomet follows, equally naturally, the religion of Islam. In each

case the result is seen to be directly and distinctly linked on to the

influences which gave it birth, and nothing more than these influences

is wanted, or makes any claim, to account for it. So M. Renan holds

that all that is needed to account for Christianity is such a

personality and such a career as he has described in his last volume.

But the facts will not bend to this. Christianity hangs on to Christ

not merely as to a Person who lived and taught and died, but as to a

Person who rose again from death. That is of the very essence of its

alleged derivation from Christ. It knows Christ only as Christ risen;

the only reason of its own existence that it recognises is the

Resurrection. The only claim the Apostles set forth for preaching to

the world is that their Master who was crucified was alive once more.

Every one knows that this was the burden of all their words, the

corner-stone of all their work. We may believe them or not. We may take

Christianity or leave it. But we cannot derive Christianity from

Christ, without meeting, as the bond which connects the two, the

Resurrection. But for the Resurrection, M. Renan's scheme might be

intelligible. A Teacher unequalled for singleness of aim and nobleness

of purpose lives and dies, and leaves the memory and the leaven of His

teaching to disciples, who by them, even though in an ill-understood

shape, and with incomparably inferior qualities themselves, purify and

elevate the religious ideas and feelings of mankind. If that were all,

if there were nothing but the common halo of the miraculous which is

apt to gather about great names, the interpretation might be said to be

coherent. But a theory of Christianity cannot neglect the most

prominent fact connected with its beginning. It is impossible to leave

it out of the account, in judging both of the Founder and of those whom

his influence moulded and inspired.

M. Renan has to account for the prominence given to the Resurrection in

the earliest Christian teaching, without having recourse to the

supposition of conscious imposture and a deliberate conspiracy to

deceive; for such a supposition would not harmonise either with the

portrait he has drawn of the Master, or with his judgment of the

seriousness and moral elevation of the men who, immeasurably inferior

as they were to Him, imbibed His spirit, and represented and

transmitted to us His principles. And this is something much more than

can be accounted for by the general disposition of the age to assume

the supernatural and the miraculous. The way in which the Resurrection

is circumstantially and unceasingly asserted, and made on every

occasion and from the first the foundation of everything, is something

very different from the vague legends which float about of kings or

saints whom death has spared, or from a readiness to see the direct

agency of heaven in health or disease. It is too precise, too

matter-of-fact, too prosaic in the way in which it is told, to be

resolved into ill-understood dreams and imaginations. The various

recitals show little care to satisfy our curiosity, or to avoid the

appearance of inconsistency in detail; but nothing can be more removed

from vagueness and hesitation than their definite positive statements.

It is with them that the writer on Christianity has to deal.

M. Renan's method is--whilst of course not believing them, yet not

supposing conscious fraud--to treat these records as the description of

natural, unsought visions on the part of people who meant no harm, but

who believed what they wished to believe. They are the story of a great

mistake, but a mistake proceeding simply, in the most natural way in

the world, from excess of "idealism" and attachment. Unaffected by the

circumstance that there never were narratives less ideal, and more

straightforwardly real--that they seem purposely framed to be a

contrast to professed accounts of visions, and to exclude the

possibility of their being confounded with such accounts; and that the

alleged numbers who saw, the alleged frequency and repetition and

variation of the instances, and the alleged time over which the

appearances extended, and after which they absolutely ceased, make the

hypothesis of involuntary and undesigned allusions of regret and

passion infinitely different from what it might be in the case of one

or two persons, or for a transitory period of excitement and

crisis--unaffected by such considerations, M. Renan proceeds to tell,

in his own way, the story of what he supposes to have occurred,

without, of course, admitting the smallest real foundation for what was

so positively asserted, but with very little reproach or discredit to

the ardent and undoubting assertors. He begins with a statement which

is meant to save the character of the Teacher. "Jesus, though he spoke

unceasingly of resurrection, of new life, had never said quite clearly

that he should rise again in the flesh." He says this with the texts

before him, for he quotes them and classifies them in a note. But this

is his point of departure, laid down without qualification. Yet if

there is anything which the existing records do say distinctly, it is

that Jesus Christ said over and over again that He should rise again,

and that He fixed the time within which He should rise. M. Renan is not

bound to believe them. But he must take them as he finds them; and on

this capital point either we know nothing at all, and have no evidence

to go upon, or the evidence is simply inverted by M. Renan's assertion.

There may, of course, be reasons for believing one part of a man's

evidence and disbelieving another; but there is nothing in this case

but incompatibility with a theory to make this part of the evidence

either more or less worthy of credit than any other part. What is

certain is that it is in the last degree weak and uncritical to lay

down, as the foundation and first pre-requisite of an historical view,

a position which the records on which the view professes to be based

emphatically and unambiguously contradict. Whatever we may think of it,

the evidence undoubtedly is, if evidence there is at all, that Jesus

Christ did say, though He could not get His disciples at the time to

understand and believe Him, that He should rise again on the third day.

What M. Renan had to do, if he thought the contrary, was not to assume,

but to prove, that in these repeated instances in which they report His

announcements, the Evangelists mistook or misquoted the words of their

Master.

He accepts, however, their statement that no one at first hoped that

the words would be made good; and he proceeds to account for the

extraordinary belief which, in spite of this original incredulity, grew

up, and changed the course of things and the face of the world. We

admire and respect many things in M. Renan; but it seems to us that his

treatment of this matter is simply the _ne plus ultra_ of the

degradation of the greatest of issues by the application to it of

sentiment unworthy of a silly novel. In the first place, he lays down

on general grounds that, though the disciples had confessedly given up

all hope, it yet _was natural_ that they should expect to see their

master alive again. "Mais I'enthousiasme et l'amour ne connaissent pas

les situations sans issue." Do they not? Are death and separation such

light things to triumph over that imagination finds it easy to cheat

them? "Ils se jouent de l'impossible et, plutôt que d'abdiquer

l'espérance, ils font violence à toute réalité." Is this an account of

the world of fact or the world of romance? The disciples did not hope;

but, says M. Renan, vague words about the future had dropped from their

master, and these were enough to build upon, and to suggest that they

would soon see him back. In vain it is said that in fact they did not

expect it. "Une telle croyance était d'ailleurs si naturelle, que la

foi des disciples aurait suffi pour la créer de toutes pièces." Was it

indeed--in spite of Enoch and Elias, cases of an entirely different

kind--so natural to think that the ruined leader of a crushed cause,

whose hopeless followers had seen the last of him amid the lowest

miseries of torment and scorn, should burst the grave?

Il devait arriver [he proceeds] pour Jésus ce qui arrive pour tous

les hommes qui ont captivé l'attention de leurs semblables. Le

monde, habitué a leur attribuer des vertus surhumaines, ne peut

admettre qu'ils aient subi la loi injuste, révoltante, inique, du

trépas commun.... La mort est chose si absurde quand elle frappe

l'homme de génie ou l'homme d'un grand coeur, que le peuple ne

croit pas à la possibilité d'une telle erreur de la nature. Les

héros ne meurent pas.

The history of the world presents a large range of instances to test

the singular assertion that death is so "absurd" that "the people"

cannot believe that great and good men literally die. But would it be

easy to match the strangeness of a philosopher and a man of genius

gravely writing this down as a reason--not why, at the interval of

centuries, a delusion should grow up--but why, on the very morrow of a

crucifixion and burial, the disciples should have believed that all the

dreadful work they had seen a day or two before was in very fact and

reality reversed? We confess we do not know what human experience is if

it countenances such a supposition as this.

From this antecedent probability he proceeds to the facts. "The Sabbath

day which followed the burial was occupied with these thoughts....

Never was the rest of the Sabbath so fruitful." They all, the women

especially, thought of him all day long in his bed of spices, watched

over by angels; and the assurance grew that the wicked men who had

killed him would not have their triumph, that he would not be left to

decay, that he would be wafted on high to that Kingdom of the Father of

which he had spoken. "Nous le verrons encore; nous entendrons sa voix

charmante; c'est en vain qu'ils l'auront tué." And as, with the Jews, a

future life implied a resurrection of the body, the shape which their

hope took was settled. "Reconnaître que la mort pouvait être

victorieuse de Jésus, de celui qui venait de supprimer son empire,

c'était le comble de l'absurdité." It is, we suppose, irrelevant to

remark that we find not the faintest trace of this sense of absurdity.

The disciples, he says, had no choice between hopelessness and "an

heroic affirmation"; and he makes the bold surmise that "un homme

pénétrant aurait pu annoncer _dès le samedi_ que Jésus revivrait." This

may be history, or philosophy, or criticism; what it is _not_ is the

inference naturally arising from the only records we have of the time

spoken of. But the force of historical imagination dispenses with the

necessity of extrinsic support. "La petite société chrétienne, ce

jour-là, opéra le véritable miracle: elle ressuscita Jésus en son coeur

par l'amour intense qu'elle lui porta. Elle décida que Jésus ne

mourrait pas." The Christian Church has done many remarkable things;

but it never did anything so strange, or which so showed its power, as

when it took that resolution.

How was the decision, involuntary and unconscious, and guiltless of

intentional deception, if we can conceive of such an attitude of mind,

carried out? M. Renan might leave the matter in obscurity. But he sees

his way, in spite of incoherent traditions and the contradictions which

they present, to a "sufficient degree of probability." The belief in

the Resurrection originated in an hallucination of the disordered fancy

of Mary Magdalen, whose mind was thrown off its balance by her

affection and sorrow; and, once suggested, the idea rapidly spread, and

produced, through the Christian society, a series of corresponding

visions, firmly believed to be real. But Mary Magdalen was the founder

of it all:--

Elle eut, en ce moment solennel, une part d'action tout à fait

hors ligne. C'est elle qu'il faut suivre pas à pas; car elle

porta, ce jour-là, pendant une heure, tout le travail de la

conscience chrétienne; son témoignage décida la foi de

l'avenir.... La vision légère s'écarte et lui dit: "Ne me touche

pas!" Peu a peu l'ombre disparait. Mais le miracle de l'amour est

accompli. Ce que Céphas n'a pu faire, Marie l'a faite; elle a su

tirer la vie, la parole douce et pénétrante, du tombeau vide. Il

ne s'agit plus de conséquences à déduire ni de conjectures à

former. Marie a vu et entendu. La résurrection a son premier

témoin immédiat.

He proceeds to criticise the accounts which ascribe the first vision to

others; but in reality Mary Magdalen, he says, has done most, after the

great Teacher, for the foundation of Christianity. "Queen and patroness

of idealists," she was able to "impose upon all the sacred vision of

her impassioned soul." All rests upon her first burst of entbusiasm,

which gave the signal and kindled the faith of others. "Sa grande

affirmation de femme, 'il est ressuscité,' a été la base de la foi de

l'humanité":--

Paul ne parle pas de la vision de Marie et reporte tout l'honneur

de la première apparition sur Pierre. Mais cette expression est

très~inexacte. Pierre ne vit que le caveau vide, le suaire et le

linceul. Marie seule aima assez pour dépasser la nature et faire

revivre le fantome du maitre exquis. Dans ces sortes de crises

merveilleuses, voir après les autres n'est rien; tout le mérite

est de voir pour la première fois; car les autres modèlent ensuite

leur vision sur le type reçu. C'est le propre des belles

organisations de concevoir l'image promptement, avec justesse et

par une sorte de sens intime du dessin. La gloire de la

résurrection appartient donc à Marie de Magdala. Après Jésus,

c'est Marie qui a le plus fait pour la fondation du Christianisme.

L'ombre créée par les sens délicats de Madeleine plane encore sur

le monde.... Loin d'ici, raison impuissante! Ne va pas appliquer

une froide analyse à ce chef-d'oeuvre de l'idéalisme et de

l'amour. Si la sagesse renonce à consoler cette pauvre race

humaine, trahie par le sort, laisse la folie tenter l'aventure. Où

est le sage qui a donné au monde autant de joie, que la possédée

Marie de Magdala?

He proceeds to describe, on the same supposition, the other events of

the day, which he accepts as having in a certain very important sense

happened, though, of course, only in the sense which excludes their

reality. No doubt, for a series of hallucinations, anything will do in

the way of explanation. The scene of the evening was really believed to

have taken place as described, though it was the mere product of chance

noises and breaths of air on minds intently expectant; and we are

bidden to remember "that in these decisive hours a current of wind, a

creaking window, an accidental rustle, settle the belief of nations for

centuries." But at any rate it was a decisive hour:--

Tels furent les incidents de ce jour qui a fixé le sort de

l'humanité. L'opinion que Jésus était ressuscité s'y fonda d'une

manière irrévocable. La secte, qu'on avait cru éteindre en tuant

le maître, fut dès lors assurée d'un immense avenir.

We are willing to admit that Christian writers have often spoken

unreally and unsatisfactorily enough in their comments on this subject.

But what Christian comment, hard, rigid, and narrow in its view of

possibilities, ever equalled this in its baselessness and supreme

absence of all that makes a view look like the truth? It puts the most

extravagant strain on documents which, truly or falsely, but at any

rate in the most consistent and uniform manner, assert something

different. What they assert in every conceivable form, and with

distinct detail, are facts; it is not criticism, but mere arbitrary

license, to say that all these stand for visions. The issue of truth or

falsehood is intelligible; the middle supposition of confusion and

mistake in that which is the basis of everything, and is definitely and

in such varied ways repeated, is trifling and incredible. We may

disbelieve, if we please, St. Paul's enumeration of the appearances

after the Resurrection; but to resolve it into a series of visions is

to take refuge in the most unlikely of guesses. And, when we take into

view the whole of the case--not merely the life and teaching out of

which everything grew, but the aim and character of the movement which

ensued, and the consequences of it, long tested and still continuing,

to the history and development of mankind--we find it hard to measure

the estimate of probability which is satisfied with the supposition

that the incidents of one day of folly and delusion irrevocably decided

the belief of ages, and the life and destiny of millions. Without the

belief in the Resurrection there would have been no Christianity; if

anything may be laid down as certain, this may. We should probably

never have even heard of the great Teacher; He would not have been

believed in, He would not have been preached to the world; the impulse

to conversion would have been wanting; and all that was without

parallel good and true and fruitful in His life would have perished,

and have been lost in Judaea. And the belief in the Resurrection M.

Renan thinks due to an hour of over-excited fancy in a woman agonized

by sorrow and affection. When we are presented with an hypothesis on

the basis of intrinsic probability, we cannot but remember that the

power of delusion and self-deception, though undoubtedly shown in very

remarkable instances, must yet be in a certain proportion to what it

originates and produces, and that it is controlled by the numerous

antagonistic influences of the world. Crazy women have founded

superstitions; but we cannot help thinking that it would be more

difficult than M. Renan supposes for crazy women to found a world-wide

religion for ages, branching forth into infinite forms, and tested by

its application to all varieties of civilisation, and to national and

personal character. M. Renan points to La Salette. But the assumption

would be a bold one that the La Salette people could have invented a

religion for Christendom which would stand the wear of eighteen

centuries, and satisfy such different minds. Pious frauds, as he says,

may have built cathedrals. But you must take Christianity for what it

has proved itself to be in its hard and unexampled trial. To start an

order, a sect, an institution, even a local tradition or local set of

miracles, on foundations already laid, is one thing; it is not the same

to be the spring of the most serious and the deepest of moral movements

for the improvement of the world, the most unpretending and the most

careless of all outward form and show, the most severely searching and

universal and lasting in its effects on mankind. To trace that back to

the Teacher without the intervention of the belief in the Resurrection

is manifestly impossible. We know what He is said to have taught; we

know what has come of that teaching in the world at large; but if the

link which connects the two be not a real one, it is vain to explain it

by the dreams of affection. It was not a matter of a moment or an hour,

but of days and weeks continually; not the assertion of one imaginative

mourner or two, but of a numerous and variously constituted body of

people. The story, if it was not true, was not delusion, but imposture.

We certainly cannot be said to know much of what happens in the genesis

of religions. But that between such a teacher and such teaching there

should intervene such a gigantic falsehood, whether imposture or

delusion, is unquestionably one of the hardest violations of

probability conceivable, as well as one of the most desperate

conclusions as regards the capacity of mankind for truth. Few thoughts

can be less endurable than that the wisest and best of our race, men of

the soberest and most serious tempers, and most candid and judicial

minds, should have been the victims and dupes of the mad affection of a

crazy Magdalen, of "ces touchantes démoniaques, ces pécheresses

converties, ces vraies fondatrices du Christianisme." M. Renan shrinks

from solving such a question by the hypothesis of conscious fraud. To

solve it by sentiment is hardly more respectful either to the world or

to truth.

Occasional Papers Selected from the Guardian, the Times, and the Saturday Review, 1846-1890, Vol. 2 · 第 13 / 30 段