CHAPTER XIII. THE ALLEGED CREDULITY OF THE FOLLOWERS OF JESUS.

The allegation that the followers of Jesus, and the early Christians generally, were a body of intensely credulous and superstitious people, may be considered as not only the stronghold of those who impugn the historical character of the Gospels, but also as the arsenal from which they draw no small number of their weapons of attack. A credulity which knew no limits is liberally ascribed to them as showing how every miraculous narrative might have been invented. They have even been credited with a facility of inventing fictions, and then deluding themselves into the belief that they were facts which they had actually witnessed. Thus it has been asserted that it was their firm belief that the Messiah ought to have wrought miracles; that Jesus himself may not even have professed to perform them; but that the fervid imaginations of His followers invented a set of miracles, attributed them to Him, and ended with the belief that they had seen Him perform them. On the other hand, whenever these objectors are pressed by a difficulty in accounting for the origin of particular phenomena in the Gospels, they retire on the credulity of the followers of Jesus as into a kind of citadel, in which they consider themselves so strongly entrenched that they may defy every attack. There is also another important purpose which it is made to serve. It is asserted that it renders worthless the testimony of the followers of Jesus as to the actual occurrence of miracles.

The allegation takes two forms:

1st. That the followers of Jesus were the prey of a credulity and superstition which greatly exceeded the limits of the ordinary credulity of mankind; and that therefore the value of their historical testimony is destroyed.

2nd. That the ordinary credulity of mankind with respect to the occurrence of supernatural events is so great and widespread, as to render the invention of miraculous narratives easy, and to destroy the credit of all narratives containing them.

I propose to consider these subjects in this and the following chapter.

Nothing is easier than to charge a body of men with intense credulity and superstition. Before, however, such charges deserve to have any notice taken of them, they should be substantiated by direct proof. It is impossible to meet them if urged in a mere general form. Fortunately, the author of “Supernatural Religion” makes a number of specific and definite charges, in which he endeavours to fasten an unspeakable degree of credulity and superstition on the immediate followers of Jesus and the authors of the Gospels, and refers to authorities in support of his assertions. I will state his general position in his own words.

“We have given a most imperfect sketch of some of the opinions and superstitions prevalent at the time of Jesus, and when the books of the New Testament were written. These, as we have seen, are continued with little or no modification throughout the first centuries of our era. It must however be remembered that the few details that we have given, omitting much of the grosser particulars, are the views absolutely expressed by the most educated and intelligent part of the community; and that it would have required infinitely darker colours adequately to have portrayed the dense ignorance and superstition of the mass of the Jews. It is impossible to receive the report of supposed marvellous occurrences from an age and people like this, without the gravest suspicion. Miracles which spring from such a hot‐bed of superstition are too natural in such a soil to be the object of surprise; and in losing their exceptional character, their claims on attention are proportionally weakened, if not altogether destroyed. Preternatural interference with the affairs of life and with the phenomena of nature was the rule in those days, not the exception, and miracles in fact had apparently lost all novelty, and through familiarity had become degraded into mere commonplace.”

“There can be no doubt that the writers of the New Testament shared in the popular superstitions of the Jews.”

Before proceeding further, I must draw the reader’s attention to three affirmations in this important passage.

1st. That the educated Jews of the time of Jesus were a prey to the superstitions in question.

2nd. That the common class of Jews were a prey to yet grosser superstitious.

3rd. That the followers of Jesus, who were chiefly Jews of the lower classes, and the authors of the Gospels, shared in these superstitions.

The author devotes not less than fifty pages to a minute description of the superstitions of the educated classes. These are alleged to have been of so gross a nature, that the reader will get but a very imperfect conception of the point at issue, unless I give a brief sketch of some of them.

I. The Jews are affirmed to have believed in an innumerable multitude of angels, whose agency was continually displayed in the ordinary phenomena of nature. They presided over and energized in its ordinary operations, as for instance, in thunder, lightning, the winds, the seas, frost, hail, rain, mists, heat, light, &c.; heaven and earth in fact are filled with them, and they are also continually busying themselves in human affairs, of which minute details are given.

II. They are alleged to have believed in a demonology of the most phantastic description. To this I have elsewhere sufficiently alluded.

III. They are likewise affirmed to have believed that the sun, moon and stars are rational beings, and traces of this belief are distinctly affirmed to exist in the New Testament.

IV. The belief in sorcery, witchcraft and magic is affirmed to have been universal among them. To give the reader an idea of the grossness of these beliefs, to which even the educated classes are affirmed to have been a prey, I must quote the following passage:

“Amulets consisting of seals, or pieces of paper, with charms written upon them, were hung round the necks of the sick, and considered efficacious for their cure. Charms, spells and mutterings were constantly said over wounds, against unlucky meetings, to make people sleep, to heal diseases, and to avert enchantments; against mad dogs for instance, against the demon of blindness and the like, as well as formulæ for averting the evil eye, and mutterings over diseases.” Here follow several pages of unutterable absurdities. It is not too much to say, that there was hardly an occurrence in nature, and hardly an event of daily life, which was not influenced by these supernatural powers, and very frequently in a manner unspeakably grotesque. If such were the beliefs of educated people, urges the author (and he tells us that he has omitted the grosser forms of them), what must have been those of the lower orders, and the extent of their degraded superstition? It must be kept constantly in mind that the followers of Jesus chiefly consisted of persons taken from the lower strata of society. But the author in express words charges them with sharing in such beliefs. If they did not, the reference to them would have no bearing on the argument.

We have therefore in this portion of the work a definite issue raised for our consideration. It is no vague charge of general boundless credulity and superstition, such as is generally urged against the followers of Jesus and the authors of the Gospels. It is presented to us in a clear and definite form. I fully allow that if this charge could be substantiated, it would deprive the Evangelists of all historical credit.

The issue which is thus raised is consequently one of the highest importance. It will be necessary therefore for us carefully to examine the mode in which it is attempted to establish the truth of these charges. The process is an extremely singular one.

When we have a set of writings before us and endeavour to estimate the amount of credulity and superstition to which their authors were a prey, the only legitimate mode of proceeding is to subject these writings to a thorough and minute examination as to the indications of credulity and superstition contained in them. Having done this, it then becomes our duty to ascertain the amount of general good sense or the want of it which is displayed by them in these or in other subjects, and then to form a general conclusion by fairly balancing the indications of credulity and good sense against each other. The author, however, seems not to have had the smallest idea that it is the duty of the critic to ascertain what are the facts of the case as presented by the writings, and to form a general conclusion by a careful review of the entire evidence. On the contrary, his mode of reasoning is to quote a number of opinions held by various writers, widely separated from each other in time, to charge them on the contemporaries of our Lord, and refer to nearly every passage in the New Testament which has even the remotest bearing on the subject, for the purpose of fastening these superstitions on the followers of Jesus. Such a mode of reasoning can only avail to establish a foregone conclusion.

Again: In forming a judgment on such a subject, it also behoves us most carefully to consider whether the subject‐matter of the writings is or is not of such a character, that if their authors had been addicted to such gross superstitions, there would not of necessity have been frequent examples of them in their pages? Also whether the absence of such references, when the subject on which they were writing was certain to have suggested them to their minds, does not constitute a strong proof that these superstitions were not held by them? In one word, it is absurd to attempt to charge writers with boundless credulity and superstition, on the ground that a multitude of grotesque beliefs were prevalent in their day. No author can be held responsible for beliefs other than those which appear in his pages, especially when subject‐matter of his writings would have been certain to call them into activity if he had entertained them.

The course pursued by the author is directly opposite to this. He has been compelled to adopt it, because it is the only method by which extreme credulity and superstition can be fastened on the writers of the Gospels. The available contemporary literature, besides that contained in the New Testament, which can throw light on the opinions of the followers of Jesus, is very small. The point which requires proof is that the entire Jewish nation, _without any exception_, was a prey to the basest superstition and credulity. Unless this can be established, the charge against the authors of the Gospels falls to the ground, except so far as it can be proved by the Gospels themselves. The contemporary proof of it, however, failing, he endeavours to substantiate his position by quoting the opinions of writers separated from the times of Jesus by several centuries, and affirming that they were held by the entire body of His contemporaries. Such a mode of reasoning is useless to support anything but a foregone conclusion.

A brief reference to the authorities relied upon will at once expose the fallacy of the argument. First, certain differences existing between the Septuagint and the Hebrew Scriptures are pressed into the service, which are no instances of either credulity or superstition. Then the frequent idolatries which prevailed among the Jews prior to the captivity are adduced as a proof of the superstitious tendencies of the Jewish mind, as if superstitions prevalent at the time of Becket were any evidence of the condition of English thought at the present day. Next the absurdities in the Apocryphal Book of Tobit are put in as evidence, although the contrary evidence afforded by the other books of the Apocrypha, which contain no traces of such superstitions, is left without mention. The writings of an Assyrian Jew who lived about three hundred and fifty years before the Christian era are about as valid to prove the opinions held by Christ and his followers as the opinions of Cicero would be in evidence of the beliefs of Constantine. Then reference is made to the angelology and demonology contained in the writings of Philo, who was unquestionably a contemporary of our Lord; but not the smallest hint is given to the reader that he was deeply tinged with the principles of the Neo‐Platonic philosophy, a mode of thought wholly alien from that of the Palestinian Jews, or that Philo was himself an Alexandrian Jew. Next the book of Enoch is quoted, which (whenever it was written, for its date is uncertain) is unquestionably not the work of a Palestinian Jew. This book, which is an Apocalypse, contains a monstrous angelology and demonology, and abounds with extravagances. Although part of it was written prior to the Advent, other portions are clearly subsequent to it. Its author is unknown; but it is highly probable from certain resemblances of expression between it and the New Testament, that he was acquainted with portions of the latter; or, to state the theory of unbelievers, that the authors of the New Testament borrowed from it. If this view is true, then it is evident that they must have rejected its angelology and demonology, for that contained in the New Testament is utterly dissimilar in character to that which we read in the book of Enoch. As far, therefore, as the evidence of this book is concerned, it affords a distinct proof that they were not a prey to its monstrous superstitions. This remark is equally applicable to the book of Tobit, and the writings of Philo.

But there is a reference made to Philo which deserves particular notice as an exemplification of the mode adopted by those who endeavour to fix the charge of unbounded credulity on the authors of the Gospels. I cite the author.

“The belief that the sun, moon and stars were living entities possessed of souls was generally held by the Jews at the beginning of our era, along with Greek philosophers, and we shall presently see it expressed by the fathers. Philo Judæus considers the stars spiritual beings full of virtue and perfection, and that to them is granted lordship over other heavenly bodies, not absolute, but as viceroys under the Supreme Being. We find a similar view expressed regarding the nature of the stars in the Apocalypse, and it constantly occurs in the Talmud and Targums.”

“We find,” says the author, “a similar view expressed regarding the nature of the stars in the Apocalypse,” _i.e._ that the stars are spiritual beings full of virtue and perfection, and that they hold lordship over other heavenly bodies. No quotation is made from this book, but four passages are referred to in a note as proving this. They are as follows: “The mystery of the seven stars which thou sawest in my right hand, and the seven golden candlesticks. The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven candlesticks which thou sawest are the seven churches.” (Rev. i. 20.) With as good reason may it be said that the book of Revelation teaches the rationality of candlesticks.

“These things saith He that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars.” (Rev. iii. 1.) It is difficult to see how this proves that the author of the Revelation was of opinion that the stars were rational entities. The next passage referred to (Rev. iv. 5) makes no mention of stars at all, but of “seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of God.” The last reference is: “I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth; and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit.” (Rev. ix. 1.) Here a star is spoken of as a living agent; but to refer in proof of this to a book which is full of symbols and is an avowed vision is ridiculous and misleading. On the contrary, the New Testament supplies the most unquestionable evidence that its writers were free from this superstition, into which even philosophers had fallen.

The next writer referred to, to prove that the followers of Jesus were a prey to credulity and superstition, is Josephus, in his narrative of the signs which preceded the destruction of Jerusalem.

To what extent Josephus embellished these signs may be a question. Most of them have a very heathen aspect, and it is unquestionable that he was much disposed to conciliate his heathen readers. It is sufficient to observe that the pages of the New Testament contain nothing resembling them.

But the chief source whence these ineffable puerilities are derived, and charged on the contemporaries of our Lord, and through them on the writers of the New Testament, is the Talmud. Probably there are no writings in existence from which a more monstrous set of absurdities can be collected than from those of the Talmudists. But how does this prove that this mass of nonsense was believed in by the Jewish nation in our Lord’s day? One portion of the Talmud, the Mishna, was composed between A.D. 180 and A.D. 200, or some years after the date assigned by unbelievers to the Fourth Gospel. The lateness of this date is urged by them as conclusive proof that that Gospel does not embody the real traditions of the early followers of Jesus. How then can it be urged with any thing like consistency that the Mishna adequately represents their views respecting the order of nature? But the other portion of the Talmud, the Gemara, was not put forth in a written form prior to A.D. 500. To quote works thus remote in time as proofs of the superstitions of the followers of Jesus, is to adopt a course which if applied generally to history, would reduce it to a tissue of falsehoods. Bishop Jewell was a believer in witchcraft; but it would be absurd if some future writer were to quote the writings of modern spiritualists as a proof that he believed in their doctrines.

Nor is it true that the opinions of the masses of a nation are at all adequately represented by those of its learned men, especially when learning, as in the case in question, assumed the most unbounded licence of speculation. In most cases the common sense of the masses who are brought into contact with the hard facts of daily life will preserve them from puerilities, into which learning, which draws exclusively on the imagination, is certain to fall. There is sufficient evidence of the superstition of the masses during the middle ages; but nothing would be more absurd than to quote some monstrous opinions held by the great scholastic writers to prove that they were the current opinions of the vulgar. Yet the principle here adopted is to adduce opinions propounded by learned writers, who lived centuries afterwards, as a proof that they were current among the entire Jewish race at the time of Jesus Christ.

The remaining references in proof of this position are still more noteworthy. To establish the superstition of the Jews at the time of the Advent, a set of opinions are adduced which were held by Christian Fathers, whose writings cover a period of not less than four centuries. A list of them will be sufficient. The apocryphal Barnabas and Hermas, Justin Martyr, Theophilus, Clement of Alexandria, Tatian, Tertullian, Cyprian, Origen, Augustine, Jerome, Chrysostom, Lactantius, Eusebius, and Cyril of Jerusalem. A number of grotesque opinions are collected from these writers, as though they could have any possible bearing on the question whether the followers of Jesus were able correctly to report what they saw and heard.

I submit therefore that the facts adduced utterly fail to establish the charge of intense superstition and credulity against the followers of Jesus. But I go further, and affirm that they furnish the means of giving a most conclusive proof of the contrary.

These quotations furnish us with a clear and conclusive proof, which is also furnished by the entire range of literature, that when writers are the prey of a definite class of superstitions, their pages will afford abundant evidence not only of their existence, but of their nature and character. This, of course, must be qualified by the supposition that the subject‐matter on which they wrote is one suitable to call their latent superstitions into activity. This always happens when the works are of a religious character. In such cases they will faithfully reflect the superstitions entertained by their authors. This is pre‐eminently the case with all the writings in question. They are all on religious subjects, on which they allowed their imaginations to run riot. They entertained a number of grotesque opinions, and accordingly we find in their writings a grotesque super‐naturalism, exactly corresponding to the peculiar ideas of each individual writer. On the principle that “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh,” we may be quite certain that when an author is extremely credulous and superstitious, it will find expression in his pages whenever he is writing on a subject on which his imagination gives scope to exhibit them.

I put the argument as follows: all writers exhibit in their pages the superstitions to which they are a prey. The writers of the New Testament do not exhibit the superstitions in question. It follows therefore that from these particular superstitions they are free. Consequently the charge against them of intense superstition and credulity falls to the ground, as far as it rests on the evidence in question.

The amount of subject‐matter in the New Testament which, independently of a general belief in miracles, the opponents of Christianity can designate as superstitious, is of a very limited and definite nature. It may be said to be almost exclusively confined to a belief in the reality of possession;—a few cases of disease occasioned by Satanic agency;—an occasional intervention of angels, and their power to act on nature;—and perhaps that demonology and heathenism were in some way connected with each other. This is the sum total of such beliefs which appear on the face of the New Testament. They appear in unequal degrees in the works of different writers; and viewing them as mere human compositions, we have no right to charge on one writer the beliefs of another. The book of Revelation, and its imagery as professedly merely seen in a vision, cannot fairly be introduced into this controversy.

If then we concede, for the sake of argument, that the Jews in the time of Christ were a prey to the extravagant superstitions referred to; if they believed that the whole course of nature and human life was incessantly interfered with by an army of spirits in numbers passing all comprehension, and that these interferences were of the most grotesque and phantastic character; if they universally believed in magic, charms and incantations, the non‐appearance of such phenomena in the pages of the New Testament is a proof that its authors were not a prey to the current superstitions of the day. No inconsiderable number of supernatural events are recorded in their pages, but unbelief itself is compelled to admit that they are all of a dignified character, with perhaps the exception of the entrance of the demons into the swine, and the discovery of the piece of money in the mouth of the fish. From what is monstrous, grotesque and phantastic, they are absolutely free.

If it be conceded, for the sake of argument, that miracles are possible, then it cannot be denied that those of the New Testament, taken as a whole, stand out in marked contrast to the current supernaturalism of superstition. Their whole conception is lofty; there is in them nothing mean or contemptible; they subserve a great purpose; they are worthy of that great character to whom they are ascribed, Jesus Christ. I put the question boldly: how is it, if the followers of Jesus were a prey to the degrading superstitions above referred to, that we find no indications of them in their pages? Also: how is it possible that men of such a character should have invented such a number of noble creations? Let unbelievers account for this on any principle which a sound philosophy can recognise.

But further: the Gospels mention a certain number of possessions, and their cures effected by our Lord. Here then we are in the very presence of a demonology such as was actually believed in by the followers of Jesus. Here, therefore, is the very condition of mind and outward circumstances where, if they had been a prey to the phantastic and disgusting beliefs about demons above referred to, such beliefs would certainly have made their appearance in their pages. But, as I have shown, the demonology of the Gospels stands in marked contrast to that of the Talmud, of Josephus, and of the Christian Fathers. We have no fumigations of demoniacs with the liver of a fish, we hear nothing of a demon drawn out of a man’s nose, and overturning a basin of water, nothing of a demon inhabiting every private closet. On the contrary, their action is described as mental, and, through the mind, affecting the body, with the exception of a few doubtful cases. I am not here arguing whether a belief in the reality of demoniacal possession is a superstition or not. But I affirm that if the writers of the New Testament had been a prey to the superstitions with which they are charged, these are the narratives in which they could not have failed to make their appearance. Again: It has been affirmed that they held a monstrous angelology. I reply that although angels are unquestionably stated to have appeared, and their existence is affirmed by the writers of the New Testament, still their recorded appearances are rare. They are confined to a few very remarkable occasions, viz.: the Annunciation and birth of our Lord, the temptation, the agony in the garden, and the resurrection. Surely this does not look as if the authors of the Gospels thought that they were always interfering with the course of nature or the events of life. In the Acts of the Apostles, they appear at the Ascension; once to liberate St. Peter, and at another time the Apostles, from prison; to direct Philip to preach to the eunuch; twice in a vision to St. Paul; and Herod Agrippa is also said to have been smitten by the ministry of an angel. There were certainly many occasions when, if the writers had believed in the habitual intervention of angels, we should have found them introduced. Thus an angel is not sent to deliver Paul from prison, or to still the tempest, but simply to assure him of his safety. St. Paul enumerates in a passage of some length the various dangers which beset him in his missions, especially mentioning the perils he encountered in travel. But neither he nor St. Luke once refers to an angelic intervention in his favour. In numerous passages he refers to dangers and persecutions which he encountered. But it is our Lord, and not angels, who delivered him. Is this consistent with a belief in their habitual intervention in nature? If he was the visionary which he has been asserted to have been, would he not have been continually seeing visions of angels for his protection?

In St. Paul’s writings we are in the presence of documents which are in the highest degree historical. Even those who endeavour to prove that the Gospels and the Acts were not written until the second century, are obliged to allow that at least four of the most important of his letters were written within 30 years after the Crucifixion, and that the evidence that four of the remainder are his, vastly preponderates. Here then we are in the presence of historical documents of the highest order, compared with which such a writing as the book of Enoch is worthless, and the Talmud and the Fathers are modern compositions. What light then do these letters throw on the opinions of St. Paul and the Pauline Churches? Much every way: they let us into the secret of their inner life. They tell us that these Christians thought they possessed certain supernatural gifts; that St. Paul asserted that he wrought miracles; that demons by an invisible agency tempted men to sin, and opposed the progress of the Gospel; but beyond this there is scarcely a trace of angelology or demonology in them. With these epistles in our hands, is it credible that their writer, or those to whom he wrote, held a multitude of monstrous and phantastic beliefs on this subject? Are not these writings characterized by supreme good sense? Do they not in this point of view marvellously contrast even with those of the earliest Fathers? The writer undoubtedly believed that unseen spiritual agencies were capable of acting on the mind of man, and that they were active agents in the production of moral evil; but where is the evidence that he considered that external nature was under their control, or that they made themselves visible to the mortal eye? Although he affirms that he possessed a supernatural illumination on religious subjects, only on two occasions does he refer to visions as actually seen by him; and he directly affirms that he had the power of distinguishing the ecstatic from the ordinary condition of his mind. Even with the aid of the Acts of the Apostles, we can only add a few more to the number. Surely this is not the mental condition of a man who was a prey to unbounded superstition. Contrast the amount of good sense in the epistles of St. Paul with an equal number of consecutive pages from the Fathers and the Talmud, and the difference is enormous. Where are the ineffable puerilities found in these writings even hinted at in those of St. Paul?

Again: if we include in our examination the other writings of the New Testament, they wholly fail to supply us with any evidence of the superstition or credulity of their authors. On the contrary they are characterized by the marks of uniform good sense. It will be doubtless objected that they, as well as St. Paul, were bad logicians, and that their applications of the Old Testament Scriptures are inapt: but this does not affect their trustworthiness as historians. They were undoubtedly men of great religious fervour, yet they are both sparing in the use of miracles, and when they report them, the miraculous action is never represented as extending beyond the necessities of the case. Their miracles consist of simple acts, as for instance the cure of diseases, but all marvellous superadditions are wanting. It has been urged that in comparing the miracles of the Gospels with other miraculous narratives, we have no right to do more than compare the external miracle of the one with the external miracle of the other; as for instance a resurrection with a resurrection, or a cure of blindness recorded in one with a similar case recorded in another; and not to take into account either the external circumstances or the moral aspect of the miracle. I have elsewhere proved that this position is untenable. But for the purpose of the argument let us here assume that all the circumstances may be the invention of the narrator. If it be so, it proves at any rate the soundness of his judgment and the elevation of his ideas, _i.e._ that it is impossible that he could have been either intensely superstitious or credulous. How is it possible, I ask, for minds which were a prey to such monstrous beliefs as those which we have been considering, to have dramatized miraculous narratives of the elevated type of those contained in the Gospels? Would not all the circumstances with which they invested them be the counter‐part of their own degraded conceptions?

But there is one most distinctive phenomenon presented by the Gospels which affords a conclusive proof that neither their authors nor the followers of Jesus could have been a prey to either degrading superstition or credulous fanaticism. I allude to the fact that, whatever theory may be propounded to account for their origin, the Gospels, as a matter of fact, unquestionably contain a delineation of the greatest of all characters, whether actual or ideal, that of Jesus Christ. I shall hereafter draw attention to the portraiture of this character for the purpose of proving that they are veritable historical documents. In this place I refer to it simply for the purpose of proving that their authors and those who invented the alleged fictions of which their contents consist, were possessed of a soundness of judgment which is wholly inconsistent with the truth of the assertion that they were a prey to boundless superstition or credulity.

For the purpose of the argument I must assume that this character is a fictitious one, because to assume that it is a delineation of an actual historical character, would be to take for granted the entire question at issue. If the Jesus of the Evangelists is an historical personage, there can be no doubt respecting the claims of the Gospel to be a divine revelation. But even if we make the assumption above mentioned, it is quite clear that those persons who invented the character, or who put it together out of the number of legendary stories floating about in the Church, must have been possessed of a sound judgment, and the highest appreciation of what was great and noble. The character we have before us, and it is confessedly the noblest which can be found either in history or fiction. The inventors, whoever they were, have succeeded in portraying a great harmonious whole. Such a character could only have been delineated by men possessed of sound discriminating judgment. The more the Gospels are depreciated as histories the more does this depreciation establish the credit of their authors as the successful delineators of an ideal character, to which they have succeeded in imparting a naturalness which men of the most exalted genius have mistaken for an historical reality. They must have been, therefore, consummate masters of the art of ideal delineation. The mental powers adequate to effect such results are those of high genius, to which in this case must have been added a very elevated conception of morality. Such mental qualities are never exhibited by men who are the prey of gross credulity and superstition. The great ideal delineations of poets have been only capable of being produced by the _élite_ of the human race. On the other hand, if we assume that the character is a fictitious one, and its inventors men of the mental calibre which they are affirmed to have been by those against whom I am reasoning, it would have been inevitable that its proportions should be marred by the introduction into it of traits marked by meanness, puerility, and monstrosity.

In support of this assertion we have no occasion to appeal to theories but to facts. Happily antiquity has preserved to us several delineations of a mythical Jesus on which the inventors have stamped the most unmistakable impress of their own credulity and superstition. I need not say that I allude to the Apocryphal Gospels, the delineations of Jesus which they contain, and above all to their miraculous narratives. Those who reiterate these charges against the authors of the Canonical Gospels, are very slow to draw attention to their bearing on this portion of the argument. In the Apocryphal Gospels we are brought face to face with the legendary spirit exerting itself in the invention of miraculous stories. There can be no doubt that their authors were both extremely credulous and superstitious; and their miraculous narratives give us the precise measure of their credulity. There is every reason to believe that two of these compositions were written as early as the second century. What, I ask, is the general character of the miracles which they have attributed to Jesus? There can be only one answer. They are mean, ridiculous, degraded, burlesque, destitute of all trait of moral grandeur. If the authors of the four Gospels, or the inventors of their miraculous narratives, whoever they may have been, had been a prey to similar credulity and superstition, the marks of them would have been indelibly stamped on their pages.

These documents also contain accounts of miracles wrought by Jesus, some of which, as bare facts, are precisely the same as some recorded in the Canonical Gospels, _i.e._ they contain accounts of resurrections from the dead, and the cure of diseases. I ask, do their accompanying circumstances and moral aspect stand as nothing in our estimate of the credibility of their authors? Compare the account of the resurrection of Lazarus, or that of our Lord himself, with the resurrections in the Apocryphal Gospels, and mark the difference. Compare likewise the other miracles, which, as bare facts, resemble one another. The one have the stamp of historical probability, and precisely fit in with the lofty character of Jesus; the other of an unbelievable legend, in which the character is degraded to a level with the conceptions of the inventors.

Let not unbelievers, therefore, decline to grapple with the question. Let them cease to pass it over in silence. I propose to them the following questions for solution. If both sets of Gospels originated with minds intensely credulous and superstitious, whence has come the difference between them? Why is the one set of miracles dignified, and the other mean? Whence the entire difference of their moral aspect? Why is the Jesus of the Canonical Gospels the most elevated personage in history, and the Jesus of the Apocryphal ones, one of the most mean and silly? If two of the Apocryphal and the four Canonical Gospels are the production of the superstition and credulity of the same century, whence the marvellous contrast between them? Which of the Fathers of the second or third century was equal to the task of reducing a mass of floating legends, the creations of numbers of superstitious men, into their present form, as they stand in our Canonical Gospels? Would they not certainly have coloured the events with their own absurdities? If, on the other hand, it be allowed that the Canonical Gospels are the production of the first century, and the Apocryphal Gospels of subsequent ones, how came the credulous followers of Jesus to produce fictions dramatized with such admirable taste in the first century, and the same spirit in subsequent centuries to present so striking a contrast? The only possible answer which can be returned to these questions is that the phenomena of the Canonical Gospels are inconsistent with the supposition that their miraculous narratives are the invention of men who were the prey either of credulity or dense superstition; they must have been men well able to distinguish between a genuine miracle and a mythic parody of one.

But it has been urged that the dignified character of Jesus induced the compilers of our present Gospels to select all the miraculous stories of a high type which were current in the hotbed of Christian fanaticism, and to attribute them to Jesus, and to suppress all of a contrary description. If this be the true solution of the facts, then it certainly follows that the compilers of the Gospels must have been free from the superstitions of the times in which they lived. Otherwise, how came they to select all the elevated stories and attribute them to Jesus, and to consign those of a lower type to a well‐merited oblivion? Is it not a fact that credulous and superstitious people have often attributed what is contemptible and mean to elevated characters? Let the Apocryphal Gospels bear witness. It follows, therefore, that even on this supposition the question must be decided in favour of the authors of our present Canonical Gospels, that they must have been free from the degraded superstitious to which their fellow‐believers were a prey.

But there is yet another problem, even if we assume the above supposition to be true, which urgently demands solution. If, among the mass of legends with which the history of Jesus was incrusted, a certain portion of the miraculous stories were of an elevated type, who among His credulous and superstitious followers were the inventors of them? Were they men of like credulity with the remainder? There are only two alternatives. They were, or they were not. If they were, I ask, how came they to invent elevated stories? If they were not, then it follows that there were persons among His followers who were neither intensely credulous nor superstitious. If the latter be the alternative adopted, then the theory which I have been considering, which attributes to the followers of Jesus such a degree of those qualities as to render their historical testimony valueless, falls to the ground.

It follows, therefore, on a careful consideration of the position, that the data on which the charge which we have been considering is made against the followers of Jesus and the authors of the Gospels utterly fail to establish it; and that the phenomena of the New Testament prove the contrary to have been the fact.