I said I was, except by solid arguments. But does Gibbon offer them?

I asked.

He tells us, for example, that the virtues, energy, and zeal of the

early Church was a main instrument of the success of Christianity;

whereas it is the very origination of the early Church, with all

these efficacious endowments, that we want to account for: it is

as though he had told me that we might account for the success

of Christianity from the fact that it had succeed to such an extent

as to render its further success very probable! As for the rest

of his secondary causes, they are difficulties in its way rather

than auxiliaries. He asks me to believe that the intolerance of

Christianity--by which it refused all alliance with other

religions, and insisted in reigning alone or not at all, by which

it spat contempt on the whole rabble of the Pantheon--was likely

to facilitate its reception among nations, whose pride and whose

pleasure alike it was to encourage civilities and compliments between

their Gods, each of whom was on gracious visiting terms with its

neighbors! He asks me, in effect, to believe that the austerity of

the Christians tended to give them favor in the eves of an

accommodating and jovial Heathenism; that the severity of manners by

which they reproved it, and which to their contemporaries must have

appeared (as we know from the Apologists it did) much as Puritan

grimace to the court of Charles II., was somehow attractive! That

the scruples with which they recoiled from all usages and customs

which could be associated with the elegant pomp of Pagan worship,

and the suspicion with which, as having been linked with idolatry,

they looked on every emanation of that spirit of beauty which reigned

over the exterior life of Paganism, would operate as a charm in their

favor! That their studied absence from all scenes social hilarity,

their grave looks on festal days, their garlanded heads, their

simple attire, their utter estrangement from the Graces, which in

truth were the legitimate Gods in Greece, and the true mothers of

whole family of Olympus, would be likely to conciliate towards the

Gospel the favorable dispositions classic antiquity! I have not so

read history, nor learnt human nature. Again, he asks me to believe that

the immortality which Christianity promised Heathen--such an immortality

--was another of things which tended to give it success;--on the one

hand, a menace of retribution, not for flagrant crimes only, which

Heathenism itself punished, nor for the lax manners which the easy

spirit of Paganism had made venial but for spiritual vices, of which

it took account, some of which it had even consecrated virtues; and,

on the other hand, an other of a which promised nothing but delights

of a spiritual order; a paradise which, whatever material or

imaginative adjuncts it might have, certainly disclosed none; which

presented no one thing to gratify the prurient curiosity of man's fancy,

or the eager passions of his sensual nature; which must, in fact,

have been about as inviting to the soul of a Heathen as the promise

of an eternal Lent to an epicure! Surely these were resistless

seductions. Yet it is to such things as auxiliaries that Gibbon refers

me for the success of Christianity. Verily it is not without reason

that he is called a master of irony!

My friend fairly acknowledged the difficulties of the subject, but

said he could not believe in the truth of Christianity.

I repaired to another infidel acquaintance. "It is a perplexing, a

very perplexing controversy, no doubts," was his reply; "but every

thing tends to show that Christianity resembles in its principal

features all those other religions which you admit to be false.

All have their prodigies and miracles,--their revelations and

Inspirations,--their fragments of truth and their masses of

nonsense. They are all to be rejected together."

I again puzzled for a long time over this aspect of the case. At

last I said to him,--This seems a curious way of disposing of the

evidence for Christianity; for if there be any true religion, it is

likely, as in all other cases, that the counterfeits will have some

features in common with it. It would follow, also, that there can

be no true philosophy; since, while there are scores of philosophies,

only one can be true. But I have another difficulty: on comparing

Christianity with other systems, I find vital differences, both as

regards theory and fact. As regards theory, I find an insuperable

difficulty, not merely in imagining how Jews, Greeks, or Romans,

any or all of them, should have been the originators of Christianity,

but how human nature should have been fool enough to originate it at all!

For I am asked to believe that man, such as I know him through all

history, such as he appears in so many forms of religion which have been

his undoubted and most worthy fabrication, did, whether fraudulently or

not, whether designedly or unconsciously, frame a religion which is in

striking contrast with all his ordinary handiwork of this sort! This

religion enjoins the austerest morality; human religions generally

enjoin a very lax one:--this demands the most refined purity, even of

the thoughts and desires; other religions usually attach to external

and ceremonial observances greater weight than to morality itself;--this

is singularly simple in its rites; they for the most part consist of

little else;--this exhibits a singular silence and abstinence in relation

to the future and invisible; they amply indulge the imagination and

fancy, and are full of delineations calculated to gratify man's most

natural curiosity;--this takes under its special patronage those

virtues which man is least likely to love or cultivate, and which men

in general regard as pusillanimous infirmities, if not vices; they

patronize the must energetic passions,--the passions which made the

demigods and heroes of antiquity. I am not saying which is the belief

in these respects; I am only saying that human nature appears more

true to itself in the last. And so notorious is all this, that the

corruptions of Christianity, as years rolled on, have ever been to

assimilate it to the other religions of the earth; to abate its

spirituality; to relax its austere code of morals; to commute its proper

claims for external observances; to encumber its ritual with an

infinity of ceremonies; and, above all, to uncover the future and

invisible, on which it left a veil, and add a purgatory into the

bargain! Thus, whether contrasted with other religions or with its

corrupted self, Christianity does not seem a religion which human

nature would be pleased to invent.

Again, is it like the other religious products of human nature, in

daring to aspire to universal dominion, and that too founded on moral

power alone? Never, till Christianity appeared, had such an imagination

ever entered the mind of man! Other religions were national affairs;

their gods never dreamed of such an enterprise as that of subduing all

nations. They were naturally contented with the country that gave them

birth, and the homage of the race that worshipped them. They were, when

not themselves assailed, very tolerant, and did the civil thing by

all other gods of all other nations, and were even content to expire

with great propriety (they usually did so) with the political

extinction of the race of their votaries! Christianity alone adopts

a different tone,--"Go ye, and preach the Gospel to all nations."--and

declares, not only that it will reign, but that none other shall. It

will not endure a rival; it will not consent to have a statue with

the mob of the Pantheon. Whether this ambition--call it pride and folly,

if you will, as you well may if the thing be merely human--was likely

to suggest itself to man, considering the local and national character

of other religions, and the apparent hopelessness of any such enterprise,

I have my doubts. Arrogance it may be; but it is not such arrogance as

is very natural to man.

These, I said, were amongst a few of the things in which I must say I

thought the theory of Christianity very unlike that of any religion

human nature was likely to invent.

If, I continued, I examine the past history and present position of

Christianity, with an impartial eye, I see that it presents in several

most important respects a contrast with other religions in point office.

I shall content myself with enumerating a few. Look, then, at the

perpetual spirit of aggression which characterizes this religion;

its undeniable power (in whatever it consists, and from whatever it

springs) to prompt those who hold it to render it victorious,--a spirit

which has more or less characterized its whole history: which still

lives, even in its most corrupt forms, and which has not been least

active in our own time. I do not see any thing like it in other religions.

Till I see Mollahs from Ispahan, Brahmins from Benares, Bonzes from

China, preaching their systems of religion in London, Paris, and Berlin,

supported year after year by an enormous expenditure on the part of

their zealous compatriots, and the nations who support them taking

the liveliest interest in their success or failure, till I see this

(call it fanatical if you will, the money thus expended wasted, the

men who give it fools), I shall not be able to pronounce Christianity

simply on a par with other religions.

Till the sacred books of other religions can boast of at least a

hundredth part of the same efforts to translate and diffuse them as

have been concentrated on the Bible; till we find them in at least

half as many languages; till they can render those who possess them

at least a tenth part as willing to make costly efforts to insure to

them a circulation coextensive with the family of man; till they

occupy an equal space in the literature of the world, and are equally

bound up with the philosophy, history, poetry, of the community of

civilized nations; till they have given an equal number of human

communities a written language, and may thus boast of having imparted

to large sections of the human family the germ of all art, science,

and civilization; till they can cite an equal amount of testimonies

to their beauty and sublimity from those who reject their divine

original,--I shall scarcely think Christianity can be put simply on a

par with other religions.

Till it can be said that the sacred books of other religions are

equally unique in relation to all the literature in which they are

imbedded; similar neither to what precedes nor what comes after them,

--their enemies themselves being judges; till they can be shown

to be as superior to all that is found in contemporaneous authors

as the New Testament is to the writings of Christian Fathers or the

Jewish Rabbis,--I cannot say that Christianity is just like any other

religion.

Till we can find a religion that has stood as many different assaults

from infidelity in the midst of it,--educated infidelity, infidelity

aided by learning, genius, philosophy, freely employing all the power

of argument and all the power of ridicule to disabuse its votaries;

till we can find a religion which can point to an equal array of

educated men, philosophic in spirit, in learning, and genius, deeply

skilled in the investigation of evidence, deliberately declaring that

its claims are well sustained.--we cannot say that Christianity is just

like any other religion.

Till it can be shown that another religion to an equal extent, has

propagated itself without force amongst totally different races, and

in the most distant countries, and has survived equal revolutions of

thought and opinion, manners and laws, amongst those who have embraced

it, it cannot be said that Christianity is simply like any other religion.

Till it can be shown that the sacred books of other religions have

contained predictions as definite and as unlikely to be fulfilled as the

success of early Christianity against all the opposition of prejudice

and persecution,--its voluntary reception amongst different races,

contrary to all the analogies of religious history,--and the continued

preservation of the Jews among all nations without forming a part of

any,--I cannot think that Christianity is precisely in the condition

of any other religion.

Such, gentlemen, were some few of the differences in fact which seemed

to me, not less than its theory, to discriminate Christianity from other

religions. Had I in those days of my youth, been favored with the views

of modern "spiritualism," I should have added, that till it is shown that

some other religion has possessed an equal power of moulding those

characters whom Mr. Newman points out as the best examples of "spiritual"

religion, and can point to oracles equally pervaded by that "sentiment"

which he declares is wanting in Greek philosophers, English Deists, and

German Pantheists, but which, he admits, pervades the Bible; till I see

the devout men whom he extols produced by other religions, or rather. I

ought to say, produced without them (where Christianity however is

unknown) by the unaided "spiritual faculty,"--I cannot but think

that the position of Christianity is somewhat discriminated both from

other religions and from "Naturalism."

Such, I said, to conclude, was an imperfect outline of some of my early

conflicts, and such the cruel mode in which my unbelieving friends

laughed at each other's hypotheses, and left me destitute of any.

Finding that they conclusively confuted one another, and perceiving

at last that the idea of the superhuman origin of Christianity did,

and, as Bishop Butler says, alone can resolve all the difficulties of

the subject, I was compelled to forego all the advantages of infidelity,

and condescended to "depress" my conscience to the "Biblical standard"!

Would to Heaven that it had never been depressed below it!

I am bound to say my auditors listened with courtesy. The conversation

was now carried on in little knots: I, who was glad of a rest, was

occupied in listening to a conversation between Harrington and his

Italian friend, who was urging him to take refuge from such a Babel

of discords as his company had uttered, in the only secure asylum.

Harrington told him, with the utmost gravity, that one great objection

to the Church of Rome was the unseemly liberty she allowed to the

right of private judgment; that he found in her communion distractions

the most perplexing, especially as between English and foreign Romanists!

____

After the party had broken up, and we were left alone, Mr. Fellows,

turning to me, said, "You lay great stress on the origination of

such a character as Christ. But can we make its reality a literary

problem? May it not have been imaginary? As Mr. Newman says, Human

nature is often portrayed in superhuman dignity; Why not in

superhuman goodness?

"That the origination;" said I, "of such a Moral Ideal, in so

peculiar a form, by such men as Galilean Jews, is unaccountable

enough, I fancy all will admit; but it is, you observe, only one of

the numberless points which are unaccountable; neither do I make

this one feature, or any of the other singular characteristics of

the New Testament, merely a literary problem. The whole, you see,

is a vast literary, moral, intellectual, spiritual, and historical

problem. But it is too much the way with you objectors to say, 'This

may, perhaps, be got over,' and 'That may be got over'; the question

is, as Bishop Butler says, whether all can be got over; for if all

the arguments for it be not false, Christianity is true.

"You charge us with the very conduct," retorted Fellowes, "which Mr.

Newman objects to Christians. They, says he, affirm that this objection

is of little weight, and that is of little weight; whereas altogether

they amount to considerable weight."

"I admit it," said I; "and those are very unfair who deny it. But

still, since there are these things of weight on both sides, the

argument returns, on which side does the balance on the sum-total of

evidence lie?"

"But," said Fellowes, "how few are competent to compute that!"

"You are really pleasant, Mr. Fellowes," I replied; "I thought the

question we were arguing was as to the truth or the falsehood of

Christianity, not whether the bulk of mankind are fully competent to

form an independent and profound judgment on its evidences: very

few are competent to do so either on this or any other complex subject;

certainly not (as our differences show) on the subject of your

'spiritualism.' But the incompetency of the great bulk of mankind to

deal with complicated evidence makes a thing neither true nor false;

perhaps on this, as on so many other subjects, the few must thoroughly

sift the matter for the many. If your present objection were of force,

what would become of truth in politics, law, medicine, in all which

the great majority must trust much to the conclusions of their wiser

fellow-creatures? Your observation is no confutation of the evidences

for Christianity: it is simply a satire upon God and the condition

of the human creatures he has made!"

"Well, let that pass," said Fellowes; "I was going to say further,

that it is not so clear to every one that Christ is so very wonderful

an ideal of humanity. Do you remember that Mr. Newman says in his

'Phases,' that, when he was a boy, he read Benson's Life of

Fletcher of Madely, and thought Fletcher a more perfect man than

Jesus Christ? and he also says that he imagines, if he were to read

the book again, he would think the same. Have you nothing to say

to that?"

"NOTHING," said I, "except to point you to the infinitely different

estimates of Christ formed by other men who yet think of historical

Christianity much as you do. How differently do such writers as

Mr. Greg and Mr. Parker speak! How do they almost exhaust the

resources of language to express their sentiments of this wonderful

character! As to Mr. Newman's impression, I do not think it worth

an answer. When a man so far forgets himself as to say what he can

hardly help knowing will be unspeakably painful to multitudes of his

fellow-creatures, on the strength of boyish impressions,--not even

thinking it worth while to verify those impressions, and see whether,

after thirty or forty years, he is not something more than a boy,--I

think it is scarcely worth while to reply. Christianity is willing to

consider the arguments of men, but not the impressions of boys."

"But we must not be too hard." said Harrington, "upon Mr. Newman; it

is evident, from his Hebrew Monarchy, that, as he takes a benevolent

pleasure in defending those whom nobody else will defend,--in petting

Ahab, whom he pronounces rather weak than wicked, and palliating Jezebel,

whose character was, it seems, grievously deteriorated by contact with

the 'prophets of Jehovah,'--so he has a chivalrous habit of depressing

those who have been particularly the objects of veneration. Elisha,

Samuel, and David are all brought down a great many degrees in the moral

scale. He has simply done the same with Christ."

"Well," said Fellowes, "I cannot help agreeing with Mr. Newman in

thinking that, when one hears men made the objects of extravagant eulogy,

it almost 'tempts one, even though a stranger to their very name,

to "pick holes," as the saying is.'"

"It may be so," said I; "but it is a tendency against which we should

guard. It would lead us, like him of Athens, to ostracize Aristides: we

should be weary of hearing him continually called 'The Just.'"

"However." rejoined Fellowes, "I am weary of hearing Christ so

perpetually called our example. As Mr. Newman says, he cannot, except

in a very modified sense, be such. 'His garments will not fit us.'"

"Did you ever hear," said I. "that fathers and mothers ought to set

an example to their children?"

"Certainly."

"Yet surely not in all things can they be such. Their garments surely

will not fit their children."

"No." said Harrington; "those of the father at all events will not,

if they are girls, nor of the mother, if they are boys. Fellowes, I

think you had better say nothing on this subject. If men of fifty

can, in all essential points, be beautiful examples to girls of

ten,--in gentleness, in patience, in humility, in kindness, and

so forth,--and all the more impressively for the wide interval between

them, why, I suppose Jesus Christ may be as much to his disciples."

"But, again," urged Fellowes to me, "you, like so many men, seem to

lay such stress on the superiority of the morality of the New Testament.

I cannot see it. I confess, with Mr. Foxton and many more, that it

seems to me that it has not such a very great advantage over that

of many heathen moralists who have said the same things,--Plato,

for example."

I replied, that, of course, it would be of no avail to affirm in

general (what I was yet convinced was true), that the New Testament

inculcated a system of ethics much more just and comprehensive than

any other volume in the world. I told him, however, that I thought

he would not deny that its manner of conveying ethical truth was unique;

that it not only contained more admirable and varied summaries of duty

than any other book whatever, but that we should seek in vain in any

other for such a profusion of just maxims and weighty sentiments,

expressed with such comprehensive brevity, or illustrated with so

much beauty and pathos. I remarked that, if he would be pleased to

do as I had once done,--compile a selection of the principal precepts

and maxims from the most admirable ethical works of antiquity (those

of Aristotle, for example), and compare them with two or three of the

summaries of similar precepts in the New Testament,--he would at once

feel how much more vivid, touching, animated, and even comprehensive,

was the Scriptural expression of the same truths. But I further observed,

that, even to obtain the means of such comparison, he must reject from

Plato or the Stagyrite twenty times the bulk of questionable

speculations, and dreary subtilties, which separate by long intervals

those gems of moral truth, which everywhere sparkle on the pages of

the New Testament.

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