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No..2b^F: 116 V .F 5 ?>
Register No.
THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND
CHRISTIAN BELIEF
THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND
CHRISTIAN BELIEF
BY
GEORGE PARK FISHER, D.D., LL.D.
EMERITUS PROFESSOR OF ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY
IN YALE UNIVERSITY
REVISED EDITION : IN GREAT PART REWRITTEN
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1905
COPYRIGHT, 1883, 1902, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
J. S. Gushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U. S. A.
WILLIAM SANDAY D.DV LL.D.
LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY AT OXFORD
AND CANON OF CHRIST CHURCH
WHOSE WRITINGS ARE AN EXAMPLE TO CONTEMPORARY SCHOLARS
OF THOROUGH INVESTIGATION AND FAULTLESS CANDOR
Eijts Volume is SefcicatcU
PREFACE
WHEN I found that this book after a score of years since its
publication was still widely read at home and abroad, I felt
something like an obligation to put it in a form more consonant
with what I should wish to say at present. I have done much
in revising and recasting its contents, especially since gaining
as emeritus professor the continuity of time so favorable to
literary work. The leading propositions in the book will not be
found to be materially altered. The arguments in support of
them have experienced modifications of some importance, and
still more the language in which they are set forth. The rela
tions of Christian Theism to natural and physical science are
more elaborately discussed than in the earlier edition. The
same is true of the evidence pertaining to the origin and author
ship of the Gospels. In preparing to take up anew the first of
these main topics, I have resorted to the writings of naturalists
of the best repute and been aided by personal converse with
adepts in these branches. I have meant to treat with just
respect the authority of these sources of knowledge. At the
same time every discerning student understands the necessity
of drawing a line between the real data of science, with the
conclusions fairly deduced and the metaphysics often mingled
pretty largely in treatises which, on their own ground, may be
safe guides.
By German scholars, some of them of much celebrity, it is
felt to be high time to utter a protest against what had grown
to be a disrespect, as prevalent as it is unreasonable, for early
ecclesiastical tradition relative to the date of New Testament
writings. The reaction against the moribund formula of the
impeccability of Scripture even outside the limits of moral and
religious doctrine has opened the door to a boundless field of
conjecture in handling the New Testament narratives, both as
to the Introduction and in the special precinct of exegesis.
Upon this license a sounder Biblical criticism is called upon to
impose a proper restraint. In reference to the New Testament
viii PREFACE
narratives, I see no reason for setting aside the traditional
ascription of the book of Acts — including the passages from a
fellow-traveller of Paul, speaking in the first person — to the
authorship of Luke, the writer of the third Gospel. Nor am I
convinced of the non-apostolic or composite authorship of the
fourth Gospel. The suggestion, for one thing, that there was a
confusion of names on the part of Irenaeus — a mistaking by
him in the discourses of Polycarp of one John when another
was meant — appears to me improbable in the extreme. The
inference, based on the Synoptics, for the negative position on
the question of authorship strikes me as resting on misinterpre
tation of the first three Gospels, and an indefensible scepticism
concerning additional matter contained in the fourth.
Of the two branches of Christian Evidences, the internal or
moral, and the external proof from miracles, it will be seen that
the precedence is accorded to the former. This is a point of
difference from the older method usual in the school of Paley.
In truth they are two mutually supporting species of evidence.
I abstain, in deference to what might be their preference, from
mentioning the names of friends whom I have consulted with profit
in the composition and issue of this work. I must be allowed
to make one exception, and to express my thanks to Professor
Charles J. H. Ropes, of Bangor, who has kindly read the proof-
sheets of several chapters, respecting which his learning and
accuracy were especially helpful.
I must expect that, among the readers who may be interested
in the general subject of this volume, some will be less attracted
by the sections that are concerned with the philosophical objec
tions to theism, or with the details of critical evidence on the
genuineness of the Gospels. But even this class, I trust, will
find the major part of the book not altogether ill-suited to their
wants. I venture to indulge the hope that they may derive
from it some aid in clearing up perplexities, and some new
light upon the nature of the Christian faith and its relation to
the Scriptures. Fortunately readers as well as teachers are at
liberty to exercise the right of omission.
G. P. F.
YALE UNIVERSITY,
October, 1902.
EXTRACTS FROM THE PREFACE TO
THE FIRST EDITION
THIS volume embraces a discussion of the evidences of both
natural and revealed religion. Prominence is given to topics
having special interest at present from their connection with
modern theories and difficulties. With respect to the first divi
sion of the work, the grounds of the belief in God, it hardly
need be said that theists are not all agreed as to the method to
be pursued, and as to what arguments are of most weight in the
defence of this fundamental truth. I can only say of these
introductory chapters, that they are the product of long study
and reflection. The argument of design and the bearing of
evolutionary doctrine on its validity are fully considered. It
is made clear, I believe, that no theory of evolution which is
not pushed to the extreme of materialism and fatalism — dog
mas which lack all scientific warrant — • weakens the proof from
final causes. In dealing with antitheistic theories, the agnostic
philosophy, partly from the show of logic and of system which
it presents, partly from the guise of humility which it wears, —
not to speak of the countenance given it by some naturalists of
note, — seemed to call for particular attention. One radical
question in the conflict with atheism is whether man himself is
really a personal being, whether he has a moral history distinct
from a merely natural history. If he has not, then it is idle to
talk about theism, but equally idle to talk about the data of
ethics. Ethics must share the fate of religion. How can there
be serious belief in responsible action wrhen man is not free,
and is not even a substantial entity ? If this question were dis
posed of, further difficulties, to be sure, would be left in the
path of agnostic ethics. How can self-seeking breed benevo
lence, or self-sacrifice and the sense of duty spring out of the
X FROM THE PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
" struggle for existence " ? Another radical question is that of
the reality of knowledge. Are things truly knowable ? Or is
what we call knowledge a mere phantasmagoria, produced we
know not by what ? This is the creed which some one has
aptly formulated in the Shakespearean lines : —
" We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."
In the second division of the work the course pursued is
different from that usually taken by writers on the Evidences
of Revelation. A natural effect of launching an ordinary in
quirer at once upon a critical investigation of the authorship of
the Gospels is to bewilder his mind among patristic authorities
that are strange to him. I have preferred to follow, though
with an opposite result, the general method adopted of late by
noted writers of the sceptical schools. I have undertaken to
show that when we take the Gospels as they stand, prior to
researches into the origin of them, the miraculous element
in the record is found to carry in it a self-verifying character.
On the basis of what must be, and actually is, conceded, the
conclusion cannot be avoided that the miracles occurred. This
vantage-ground once fairly gained, the matter of the authorship
and date of the Gospels can be explored without the bias which
a prejudice against the miraculous elements in the narrative
creates against its apostolic origin. Then it remains to estab
lish the truthfulness of the apostolic witnesses, and, further, to
vindicate the supernatural features of the Gospel history from
the objection that is suggested by the stories of pagan miracles
and by the legends of the saints. ... In earlier and later
chapters I have sought to direct the reader into lines of reflec
tion which may serve to impress him with the truth contained
in the remark that the strongest proof of Christianity is afforded
by Christianity itself and by Christendom as an existing fact.
G. P. F.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
THE PERSONALITY' OF GOD AND OF MAN : THE SELF-REVELATION
OF GOD IN THE HUMAN SOUL
PAGE
The Two Beliefs associated 1
The Essentials of Personality 2
The Reality of Self 2
Self-determination .......... 3
Theories of Necessity and Determinism 5
The Consciousness of Moral Law ....... 16
The Aspiration to commune with God ...... 18
Instincts of Feeling as Indicative of Truth ..... 20
The Belief in Immortality 20
The Place of Will in Religious Faith 20
Anticipative Presentiment in Religion ...... 22
CHAPTER II
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD: THEIR FUNCTION IN
GENERAL AND AS SEVERALLY CONSIDERED
The Ultimate Source of Belief in God 24
The Intuition of the Absolute 24
The Ontological Argument 26
The Cosmological Argument ........ 27
The Uncaused Being a Voluntary Agent ...... 28
Disproof of Polytheism ......... 29
The Argument from Design : its Significance 30
The a priori Basis of this Argument ...... 32
Mind Discernible in Nature . . . . . . . .33
Science the Reflex of Mind in Nature ...... 34
Distinction between Order and Design 35
Teleology Evident in Plants 36
Teleology most Manifest in Animal Organisms . . =37
Objections to the Design-argument answered ..... 38
The Four Criticisms suggested by Kant ...... 42
The Hypothesis of Chance 43
xii CONTENTS
PAGE
Evolution and Design : Meaning of Evolution ..... 45
Design-argument strengthened by Evolution 46
Teleology and Mechanism 49
Variability in Organisms 49
Darwin on Variability and Design 49
Respecting the Attributes of God ....... 53
The Moral Argument 55
The Problem of Evil 56
The Historical Argument 59
Personality consistent with Infinitude ...... 60
The World like Man for a Purpose 62
CHAPTER III
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES : PANTHEISM, POSITIVISM,
MATERIALISM, AGNOSTICISM
The Four Terms defined 63
What is Pantheism ? 63
The System of Spinoza 63
The German Systems of Ideal Pantheism ...... 65
No Place in Pantheism for Eree Choice or Responsibility ... 67
Positivism : Not Self-consistent ....... 67
J. S. Mill's Modifications of Positivism 68
Materialism ........... 68
Relation of Consciousness to Physical States . . . .69
Materialism a Self -destructive Theory 70
The Doctrine of " Conscious Automatism " ..... 71
The Agnostic System of Spencer ....... 72
Spencer's Theory of Evolution examined ...... 74
Later Expressions of Spencer 77
Agnosticism the Destruction of Science ...... 78
Untenable Identification of Mind and Matter ..... 79
The Question of the Reality of Knowledge ..... 82
Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Kant 83
Hamilton and Mansel ......... 84
Mill's Revival of Hume's Speculations 86
Relation of Spencer to Hume and Mill 86
How Philosophy to escape from its Aberrations 88
CHAPTER IV
THE DIVINE ORIGIN OF CHRISTIANITY EVINCED IN ITS ADAPTED-
NESS TO THE DEEPEST NECESSITIES OF MAN
The Practical Test of Christianity 89
The Soul's Need of God 90
CONTENTS Xlll
PAGE
The Feeling awakened in the Miseries of Life ..... 91
The Experience of Goethe. Letter of Carlyle 92
The Consciousness of Sin and Guilt 92
The Consciousness of Moral Bondage 94
Recognition in the Bible of the Facts of Life 96
Reconciliation to God through the Gospel .... 96
Filial Union to God through Christ ....... 98
Peace and Victory over the World ....... 98
CHAPTER V
THE DIVINE MISSION OF JESUS ATTESTED BY THE TRANSFORMING
AGENCY OF CHRISTIANITY IN HUMAN SOCIETY
The Power of Christianity evinced in its Progress .... 99
The Beneficence of its Influence ....... 100
Prediction of the Nature and Effect of its Progress . . . .101
New Ideal of Man and Society ........ 101
Christianity and the Family . . . . . . . .103
Christianity and the State 104
Christianity and Liberty 104
Christianity and International Relations ...... 107
Christianity and Charity ......... 108
Christianity and Social Reform . . . . . . .113
CHAPTER VI
THE EVIDENCE OF THE DIVINE ORIGIN OF CHRISTIANITY FROM ITS
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING AND FROM THE COMPARISON
OF IT WITH THE GREEK PHILOSOPHY
Through Christianity the Kingdom of God made Universal . . 115
Seeds of Truth in the Teaching of Jesus 116
In his Teaching Religion and Morality Inseparable . . . .116
Christian Precepts not merely Negative . . . . . .117
In the Gospel Particular Obligations not Undervalued . . .117
Active as well as Passive Virtues enjoined . . . . .118
Christianity distinctively a Religion . . . . . . .119
The Greek Philosophy as an Intellectual Achievement . . .119
The Greek Philosophy a Preparation for the Gospel ... 120
Socrates and his Teachings compared with the Gospel . . . 120
Plato and his Doctrines compared with the Gospel ..... 122
Aristotle and his Doctrines compared with the Gospel . . . 126
Greek Systems become Practical ...... 128
The Theology and Ethics of Epicurus . . , . . ,129
The Characteristic Principles of Stoicism ...... 129
XIV CONTENTS
PAGE
The Special Character of Roman Stoicism 131
The Teaching of Seneca and its Sources . . . . .132
Stoic Teachings compared with Christianity 133
New Flatonism : Philosophy lapses into Pantheism .... 137
The Actual Aids of Philosophy Insufficient 139
Its Imperfect Conception of God 141
CHAPTER VII
THE CONSCIOUSNESS IN JESUS OF A SUPERNATURAL CALLING
RENDERED CREDIBLE BY HIS SlNLESS CHARACTER
The Facts of the Gospel indirectly verified 142
The Credibility of the Testimony of Jesus respecting himself . .144
The Alternatives of Credence Untenable 144
Summary of this Testimony of Jesus ...... 145
Proof of the Sanity and Sobriety of Jesus 140
No Credulity then to warrant Disbelief now ..... 148
Words and Actions of Jesus consonant with his Claims . . .150
The Sinless Character of Jesus insures Self-knowledge . . .151
The Character of Jesus tried by Temptation 152
His Sinlessness Plain to his Enemies . . . . . . .153
Unison of Virtues in his Character 154
His Freedom from Self-accusation . . . . . . .155
Moral Criticism of his Character Baseless ...... 156
His Character tested by his Experience 159
The Direct Probative Weight of his Sinlessness 161
CHAPTER VIII
MIRACLES : THEIR NATURE, CREDIBILITY, AND PLACE IN
CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES
Revelation in Nature and Providence presupposed in Christianity . 163
Consistency of the Two Revelations 163
The Gospel not an Afterthought of the Creator .... 164
The Purpose of the Christian Miracles 165
The Untheistic Conception of Nature 165
The Relation of Miracles to the Constancy of Nature . . . 167
The Credibility of Miracles : Hume's Objection .... 168
Huxley's Criticism of Hume 170
Criticism of Huxley's Position 170
The " Order of Nature " not disturbed by a Miracle . . . . 173
Nature of the Miracle-working Power of Jesus . . . . .173
Precedence in the Proofs of Christianity belongs not to Miracles . 174
Value of the Proof from Miracles . . . .175
CONTENTS XV
CHAPTER IX
PROOF OF THE MIRACLES OF CHRIST INDEPENDENTLY OF SPECIAL
INQUIRY INTO THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE GOSPELS
I'AUE
Miracles professed to be wrought by the Apostles . . . .178
The Injunctions of Jesus not to report Miracles .... 180
Cautions against an Excessive Esteem of Miracles .... 182
Teachings of Jesus Inseparable from Miracles 183
Not True that Miracles then excited no Surprise .... 188
No Miracles said to be wrought by Jesus prior to his Ministry . 189
The Persistence of the Apostles' Faith an Evidence of Miracles . 189
Miracles inwoven with the Nexus of Occurrences .... 190
Evidence of the Fact of the Resurrection of Jesus .... 192
Criticism of the " Vision Theory " 194
The Criteria of Hallucination Absent 196
Keira's Denial of the Vision Theory . . . . . . .197
Keim's Admission of a miraculous Self-manifestation of Jesus . 199
The Naturalistic Theory of the Miracles Obsolete . . . .199
Strauss' s Contempt for this Theory ....... 200
Strauss's Mythical Theory 200
Kenan's Imputation of Conscious Deceit 201
Christian Evidences not Demonstrative : to be taken Collectively . 203
CHAPTER X
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD OF THE TESTIMONY GIVEN
BY THE APOSTLES
Authorship and Date of the Gospels : Why so Important . . 204
Record of Miracles not a Ground for Distrust ..... 204
Special Proofs of the Genuineness of the Gospels .... 204
Authority of the Four acknowledged in the Churches . . . 205
Bat not dictated by Any Organization ...... 205
Testimony of Irenseus 205
Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, Muratorian Canon . . . 206
Representative Character of Individuals ...... 207
Value of Testimony of Irenreus ....... 207
Objections to the Witness of Irenseus answered .... 209
Justin Martyr : his Memoirs . . . . . . . .211
Outlines of his References to the Gospels . . . . . .212
Why he quotes mainly from the Synoptics ..... 214
Few References in J. without Parallelisms in the Gospels . . 215
His Memoirs .substantially Coincident with the Gospels . . . 217
His Quotations not exceptionally Inexact 219
His Memoirs specially refer to the Four 220
xvi CONTENTS
PAGE
Tatian's Diatesseron 222
The Non-canonical Writings held in Honor ..... 222
Apocryphal Gospels 223
The Gnostics had no Competitors with the Four .... 224
Celsus an Indirect Witness for the Four ...... 226
Papias : his Testimony 226
The Logia of Matthew ... 0 ..... 228
Marcion acknowledged the Four 229
The Prologue of the Third Gospel ....... 230
Internal Evidence in the First Three Gospels . . « . .231
The Prophetic Discourse of Jesus 232
Other Water-marks of Age 233
The Mutual Relation of the Synoptics 234
The Integrity of the Gospels 235
The Credibility and Lukan Authorship of the Acts .... 237
Comparison of the Earlier and the Later Chapters .... 238
The " Speaking with Tongues " 231)
The Speeches in Acts 240
The Apostolic Conference, Acts xv., compared with Gal. ii. . . 241
Paul's Rebuke of Peter 242
Decisive Proof the Verity of Acts xv. ...... 243
CHAPTER XI Q
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL
Unlikeness of the Fourth Gospel to the Synoptics .... 245
Usual Belief respecting the Apostle John ...... 245
The Apostolic Authorship until recently Virtually undisputed . . 246
The Tubingen School : The Theory of Baur 247
A much Earlier Date of the Gospel at Present granted . . . 249
Early References to Ancient Classics often Scanty . 250
Evidence offered by Parties outside of the Church .... 253
Hypothesis that the Apostle was confounded with "the Presbyter" 254
Did Irenseus misunderstand Polycarp ? 254
What is known of the " Presbyter John "? 257
Theory of a Confusion of Names Improbable 258
The Asian Residence and Influence of the Apostle .... 258
Testimony of the Gospel, ch. xxi 262
The Alogi 263
Hypothesis that Disciples of John wrote the Gospel .... 265
The Hypothesis of a Composite Authorship : Wendt . . .266
The Unity of Authorship Evident 268
Partition Theories excluded by John xxi. 24 269
Internal Evidences . 270
CONTENTS Xvii
PAGE
The Author a Palestinian Hebrew 270
The Author's Name not mentioned ....... 271
The Author an Eye-witness ........ 271
The Gospel virtually an Autobiography 274
The Author's Personal Love to Jesus . , 275
The Author's References to " The Jews " . ... 275
Bearing of Other N. T. Documents on the Question . . . .277
The Apocalypse and the Fourth Gospel 277
Frequency of Wrong Inferences from Diversity of Style . . . 278
Theory of Allegorical Facts Untenable 279
Examples of Historical Keminiscences in the Gospel . . . 280
Kenan's Citations of the Same Character ...... 281
Critical Objections based on Misinterpretation 282
The Author's Estimate of Miracles 283
Theological Aspect of the Gospel 283
The Gospel and Alexandrian Judaism ...... 284
Comparison of the " Logos " Doctrine in John and in Philo . . 284
Observations of Harnack on this Topic ...... 285
Observations of Loofs on the Topic ....... 286
John and the Synoptics ......... 289
Frequent Misconception of the Design and Character of the Synoptics 289
A Certain Subjective (not Fictitious) Element in John . . .290
The Duration of the Ministry of Jesus 291
The Cleansing of the Temple 292
The Date of the Crucifixion 292
The Doings and Sayings of John the Baptist 294
The Message of the Baptist to Jesus ....... 297
Import of the Conversation at Caesarea-Philippi .... 298
The Method of Jesus in disclosing his Messiahship .... 300
The Discourses of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel 301
Mistaken Objections from their Character ..... 301
The Theology of the Synoptics and John not essentially Different . 304
The Character of Ancient Pseudonymous Writings .... 306
The Theory of a Close Relation of the Evangelist to the Apostle . 307
The View of Weizsacker 307
The View of Harnack 308
The Choice between Two Hypotheses 309
CHAPTER XII
THE TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES' TESTIMONY AS PRE
SENTED BY THE EVANGELISTS
Not a Question respecting Inspiration ...... 310
The Choice of the Apostles : Their Function ..... 310
xviii CONTENTS
PAGE
The Apostles consciously called to be Witnesses .... 312
The Apostles always consciously Disciples 313
Frankly relate Instances of their own Ignorance and Weakness . 313
Relate their Mistakes and the Reproofs of Jesus .... 315
Relate their Serious Delinquencies 315
Narrate Instances of Sinless Infirmity in Jesus .... 316
Submit to Extreme Suffering and Death ...... 317
The Suspicion of Dishonesty in the Apostles Absurd . . . 318
To impute to them Self-delusion is Unreasonable . . . .318
Their Testimony not shaken by the Narration of Miracles . .319
Answer of Bishop Butler to Sceptics on this Subject . . .319
The Accounts of the Birth and Early Life of Jesus . . . .319
The Gospels not moulded by a Doctrinal Bias ..... 320
The Mythical Theory not Less Untenable 321
CHAPTER XIII
THE RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE AND
TO BIBLICAL CRITICISM
Does Critical Science imperil the Foundations of Christianity ? . 322
The Bible the Source of Christian Knowledge ..... 322
Its Life-giving Power 322
Special Problems and Distinctions respecting the Bible . . . 323
Origin of Rigid Maxims on Biblical Inerrancy ..... 323
Distinction between the Bible and Christianity .... 324
Revelation in and through a Process of Redemption . . . 324
Revelation Historical in the Ancient and the N. T. Periods . . 325
Persons and Transactions in Revelation prior to the Scriptures . 327
The Occasion of the N. T. Writings 327
Composed to meet the Wants of the Churches ..... 328
The Kingdom of God the Fundamental Reality . . . .328
The Religious Consciousness of the Hebrew People .... 329
The End of the Kingdom the Transformation of Human Society . 331
The Rise of a Spiritual and Universal Community . . . .332
Illustration from Secular Life and History ..... 332
Obscurity as to the Beginnings of Old Kingdoms .... 334
No Formulas as to the Scriptures in the Ancient Creeds . . . 335
Literary Questions as to the Scriptures ...... 335
Organic Connection of Christianity with the 0. T. Religion . . 330
Open Historical Questions in 0. T. Annals 33(5
Questions as to the Rise and Successive Eras of the O. T. Religion . 337
Moses the Founder of Hebrew Legislation ..... 338
Critical Investigation Consistent with Christian Belief . . . 340
CONTENTS xix
The Authority of Jesus and of the Apostles 342
Butler against dogmatizing on the Authority of Scripture . . 342
The Apostles' Insight into the Gospel Progressive . . . . 342
The Order of Things to be believed 342
CHAPTER XIV
THE GRADUALNESS or REVELATION
The Declaration of Jesus to this Effect 344
Progress of Interpretation not Continuance of Revelation . . 345
The Process of Historic Revelation in its Contents .... 345
The Epochs of Law and of Grace 347
Progress in the Conception of God 348
Progress in the Doctrine of Divine Providence ..... 350
Gradual Unfolding of the Mercifulness of God ..... 352
The Lesson from Jonah : The Prediction of Micali .... 353
The Problem of Suffering .353
The Discussions in Job 354
The Reflections in Ecclesiastes 355
Light in the Gospel on the Problem of Suffering .... 356
The Gradual Revelation of Immortality ...... 357
Gradual Exposition of the Nature of Sacrifice ..... 359
Progress in the Messianic Conception 360
Progressive Advance of Ethics in Revealed Religion . . . 361
Gradual Enthronement of the Law of Love ..... 362
Imprecations in the Old Testament 363
Accommodation in Law to Ages of Ignorance ..... 364
Progress in the -N. T. Revelation ....... 365
The Promise of Light through the Spirit 368
The Progress of the Apostles in Enlightenment .... 369
Authority only Predicable of the Bible as a Whole .... 369
CHAPTER XV
THE RELATION or CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS
Classification of Religions 371
Christian View of Ethnic Religions 371
Christianity the Absolute Religion 372
Revelation the Self-revelation of God 372
In Christianity Alone a Full View of the Perfection of God . . 373
Polytheism and Monotheism ........ 373
Mohammedanism .......... 375
The Religion of India 376
XX
CONTENTS
PAGE
Brahmanism Pantheistic 377
Buddha and Buddhism . . . . . . . . .377
The Merits of Buddha and Buddhism ...... 379
Buddha in what Sense a Pessimist 380
Neither a Personal God nor Immortality Parts of his Teaching . 380
The Degeneration of Buddhism . . . . . . .381
Alleged Parallelisms between Hindoo Religions and Christianity . 381
Fitness of Christianity to be the Religion of Mankind . . . 383
The Religion of the Old Testament and of the New, a Divine Revela
tion 383
APPENDIX
5*"
NOTE 1 (p. 23). Further Discussion of the Origin of Religion . 387
NOTE 2 (p. 49) . Other Statements of Huxley on Teleology . . 394
NOTE 3 (p. 50). Other Statements of Darwin on Design in Nature 396
NOTE 4 (p. 56). Further Remarks on the Problem of Evil . . 397
NOTE 5 (p. 66). Professor Fraser on the Spread of Pantheism . 398
NOTE 6 (p. 82). Spencer's Modification of Views on Correlation . 399
NOTE 7 (p. 83). Science the Discovery of the Principles and Laws
of Nature 399
NOTE 8 (p. 86). Matthew Arnold's Conception of God . . . 401
NOTE 9 (p. 93). Possible Force of Self-accusation . . .403
NOTE 10 (p. 167). The Trend of Philosophy toward Objective
Idealism ........ 404
NOTE 11 (p. 172). The Philosophical Opinions of Huxley . . 406
NOTE 12 (p. 231). Unity of Authorship of the Acts . . . 408
NOTE 13 (p. 252). Resch on the Authorship of the Fourth Gospel . 410
NOTE 14 (p. 254). Neander on the Johannine Authorship of the
Fourth Gospel 410
NOTE 15 (p. 269). Haupt on Dislocations in the Fourth Gospel . 411
NOTE 16 (p. 272). The Designation "Disciple whom Jesus loved" 412
NOTE 17 (p. 280). Striking Reminiscence in the Fourth Gospel . 412
NOTE 18 (p. 289). Professor Thayer on the Apostolic Authorship
of the Fourth Gospel 412
NOTE 19 (p. 305). Weizsacker and Thayer on the Divinity of Christ
in the Gospels ....... 412
NOTE 20 (p. 320). The Subject of Discrepancies in the Gospels . 413
NOTE 21 (p. 203). Heathen and Ecclesiastical Miracles . . .421
NOTE 22 (p. 343). The Relation of Biblical Teaching to Natural
Science ........ 435
NOTE 23 (p. 343). The Relation of Biblical Criticism to Prophecy . 447
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a.7rcfprj Tts? Trdvv jjiaXOaKOV €LVOLL dvopos • oetv yap Trept avrd cv ye Tt TOUTCUV
/xa^etv OTT>; e^et ^ evpeTv ^, et TaiiTa dSwaTOi/, TOV yoOv
TWV dv^pcuTTtvcov Aoywv Aa/?ovTa Kat Svo-e£eAeyKTOTaTOv, CTTI
TOVTOV o^ov/xevov wo"7Tep eVt a"^eotas KtvowewovTa otaTrAevo'at TOV (3tov, et
/x,iy Tts 8watTO do-^aAe'o-Tepov Kat aKtvSwoTepov evrt /?e/3atOTepo
TO5, Adyov ^etbv Ttvds, StaTropev^vai. Kat 8^ Kat vvv eytoye OVK
o"^w^^a"o/xat epeo~^at, ITTCLOYJ Kat o"v Tavra Aeyets? ovo epuxfTov atTtao"o/xat
ev vcrrepii) xpovco oTt v9v ovK et7rov a e/xot 8oK€i. Plato, Phcedo, 85 [the
topic being ' The Concerns of the Soul.']
u VERY good, Socrates," said Simmias ; " then I will tell you my dif
ficulty, and Cebes will tell you his. I feel myself (and I daresay that
you have the same feeling) how hard or rather impossible is the attain
ment of any certainty about questions such as these in the present life.
And yet I should deem him a coward who did not prove what is said
about them to the uttermost, or whose heart failed him before he had
examined them on every side. For he should persevere until he has
achieved one of two things : either he should discover, or be taught,
the truth about them ; or, if this be impossible, I would have him take
the best and most irrefragable of human theories, and let this be the raft
upon which he sails through life — not without risk, as I admit, if he
cannot find some word of God which will more surely and safely carry
him. And now, as you bid me, I will venture to question you, and then
I shall not have to reproach myself hereafter with not having said at the
time what I think. For when I consider the matter, either alone or with
Cebes, the argument does certainly appear to me, Socrates, to be not
sufficient." — From the Version of Jowett, ed. 3.
" THE only question concerning the truth of Christianity is, whether it
be a real revelation, not whether it be attended with every circumstance
which we should have looked for ; and concerning the authority of Scrip
ture, whether it be what it claims to be, not whether it be a book of such
sort, and so promulgated as weak men are apt to fancy a book containing
divine revelation should. And therefore neither obscurity, nor seeming
inaccuracy of style, nor various readings, nor early disputes about the
authors of particular parts, nor any other things of the like kind, though
they had been much more considerable in degree than they are, could
overthrow the authority of Scripture ; unless the prophets, or apostles, or
our Lord, had promised that the book containing the divine revelation
should be secure from these things." — Bishop Butler, ANALOGY, Part
II. chap. Hi.
xxii
THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND
CHRISTIAN BELIEF
CHAPTER I
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN : THE SELF-REVELATION OF
GOD IN THE HUMAN SOUL
THEISM signifies not only that there is a ground or cause of all
things, — so much every one who makes an attempt to account
for himself and for the world around him admits, — but also that
the Cause of all things thus presupposed is a personal Being, of
whom an image is presented in the human mind. This image falls
short of being adequate, only as it involves limits, — limits, how
ever, which cleave not to intelligence in itself, but simply to intel
ligence in its finite form.
Belief in the personality of man, and belief in the personality of
God, stand or fall together. A glance at the history of religion
would suggest that these two beliefs are for some reason insepa
rable. Where faith in the personality of God is weak, or is altogether
wanting, as in the case of the pantheistic religions of the East, the
perception which men have of their own personality is found to be
in an equal degree indistinct. The feeling of individuality is dor
mant. The soul indolently ascribes to itself a merely phenomenal
being. It conceives of itself as appearing for a moment, like a
wavelet on the ocean, to vanish again in the all-ingulfing essence
whence it emerged. Philosophical theories which substitute mat
ter, or an impersonal Idea, or an " Unknowable," for the self-
conscious Deity, likewise dissipate the personality of man as ordi
narily conceived. If they disown the tenet that God is a Spirit,!
they decline with equal emphasis to affirm that man is a spiritJ
The pantheistic and atheistic schemes are in this respect con
sistent in their logic. Out of man's perception of his own per
sonal attributes arises the belief in a personal God. On this fact
B I
2 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
of our own personality the validity of the evidence for theism is
conditioned.
The essential characteristics of personality are self-consciousness
and self-determination ; that is to say, these are the elements com
mon to all spiritual beings. Perception, whether its object be
material or mental, involves a perceiving subject. The " cogito
ergo sum " of Descartes is not properly an argument. I do not
deduce my existence from the fact of my putting forth an act of
thought. The Cartesian maxim simply denotes that in the act the (f
agent is of necessity brought to light, or disclosed to himself. He i!
becomes cognizant of himself in the fluctuating states of thought,
feeling, and volition. This apprehension of self is intuitive. It is
conditioned on experience. It is not a possession of infancy.
Yet it is not an idea of self that emerges, not a bare phenomenon, as
some philosophers have imagined ; but the ego is immediately pre
sented, and there is an inexpugnable conviction of its reality.
Idealism, or the doctrine that sense-perception is a modification
of the mind that is due exclusively to its own nature, and is elicited
by nothing exterior to itself, is, if anything, less repugnant to reason
than is the denial of the reality of the ego. Whatever may be true
of external things, of self we have an intuitive knowledge. If I
judge that there is no real table before me on which I seem to be
writing, and no corporeal organs for seeing or touching it, I never
theless cannot escape the conviction that it is /who thus judge.
To talk of thought without a thinker, of belief without a believer,
is to utter words void of meaning. The indivisible unity and
permanent identity of the ego are necessarily involved in self-con
sciousness. I know myself as a single, separate entity. Personal
identity is presupposed in every act of memory. Go back as far
as recollection can carry us, it is the same self who was the subject
of all the mental experiences which memory can recall. When I
was a child I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought
as a child ; but I who utter these words am the same being that I
was a score or threescore years ago. I look forward to the future,
and know that to me, and not to another, the consequences of my
actions are directly chargeable. In the endless succession of
thoughts, feelings, choices, in all the mutations of opinion and of
character, the identity of the ego abides. From the dawn of con
sciousness, as soon as recollection is awake, to my last breath, I do
not part with myself. The abnormal experience, in certain cases,
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 3
of double consciousness no more disproves this truth than occa
sional instances of hallucination belie the fact of sense-perception.
" If we speak of the mind as a series of feelings which is aware of
itself as past and future, we are reduced to the alternative of believ
ing that the mind, or ego, is something different from any series of
feelings, or of accepting the paradox that something which is ex
hypothesi\x& a series of feelings can be aware of itself as a series."
So writes John Stuart Mill. Yet, on the basis of this astounding
assumption that a series can be self-conscious, Mill was minded to
frame his philosophy, and was only deterred by the confessed
insurmountable difficulty of supposing memory with no being
capable of remembering.
The second constituent element of personality is self-determi
nation. This act is likewise essential to distinct self-conscious
ness. Were there no exercise of will, were the mind wholly
passive under all impressions from without, the clear conscious
ness of self would never be evoked. In truth, self in that case
would have only an inchoate being.1 " It is in the will, in purpo- j
sive action, and particularly in our moral activity, as Fichte, to
my mind, conclusively demonstrated, that we lay hold upon real-j
ity. All that we know might be but a dream-procession of1
shadows, and the mind of the dreamer no more than the still mir
ror in which they are reflected, if, indeed, it were anything but
the shifting shadows themselves. But in the purposive ' I will,'
each man is real, and is immediately conscious of his own reality.
Whatever else may or may not be real, this is real. This is the
fundamental belief, around which scepticism may weave its maze
of doubts and logical puzzles, but from which it is eventually
powerless to dislodge us, because no argument can affect an im
mediate certainty, — a certainty, moreover, on which our whole
view of the universe depends."2 That I originate my voluntary/)
actions in the sense that they are not the effect or unavoidable \
consequence of antecedents, whether in the mind or out of it, is a|jf
fact of consciousness. This is what is meant by the freedom of
the will. It is a definition of " choice." Thoughts spring up in
1 The view of self-consciousness in the foregoing remarks is quite contrary
to the view, if taken in the proper sense of the terms, that " individuals may
be included in other individuals " and that there is " a genuine identity of
Being in various individuals."
2 A. Seth, Two Lectures on Theism, p. 46.
4 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the mind, and succeed one another under laws of association
whose absolute control is limited only by the power we have of
concentrating attention on one object or another within the hori
zon of consciousness. Desires reaching out to various forms of
good spring up unbidden. They, too, are subject to regulation
through no power inherent in themselves. But self-determina
tion, as the very term signifies, is attended with an irresistible
conviction that the direction of the will is self-imparted. We
leave out of account here the nature of habit, or the tendency of
choice once made or often repeated to perpetuate itself. That ail
moral bondage may ensue from an abuse of liberty is conceded./)
The mode and degree in which habit affects freedom is an im
portant topic ; but it is one which we do not need to consider in
this place.1 That the will is free — that is, both exempt from
constraint by causes exterior, which is fatalism, and not a mere
spontaneity, shut up to one path by a force acting from within,
which is determinism — is immediately evident to every unsophis
ticated mind. We can initiate action by the exercise of an
agency which is neither irresistibly controlled by motives, nor
determined, without any capacity of alternative action, by a prone-
ness inherent in its nature. No truth is more definitely or abun- .
dantly sanctioned by the common sense of mankind. Those who |
in theory reject it, continually assert it in practice. The lan
guages of men would have to be reconstructed, the business of the
world would come to a standstill, if the denial of the freedom of
the will were to be carried out with rigorous consistency. This
freedom is not only attested in consciousness ; it is evinced by
that ability to resist inducements brought to bear on the mind
which we are conscious of exerting. We can withstand tempta
tion to wrong by the exertion of an energy which consciously
emanates from ourselves, and which we know that, the circum
stances remaining the same, we could abstain from exerting. If
motives have an influence, that influence is not tantamount to
deterministic efficiency. Praise and blame, and the punishments
and rewards, of whatever kind, which imply these judgments, are
1 Plainly, circumstances, including prior courses of conduct, may render
a particular direction of choice more, or less, difficult. " There is a growth
in moral freedom" (Ladd, Philosophy of Conduct, p. 138). Ikit the difficulty
thus arising is not of a kind or degree to destroy the capacity of freely deter
mining the action of the will.
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 5
plainly irrational, save on the tacit assumption of the autonomy of
self. Deny free-will, and remorse, as well as self-approbation, is
deprived of an essential ingredient. It is then impossible to dis
tinguish remorse from regret. Ill-desert becomes a fiction. This
is not to argue against the necessitarian doctrine, merely on the
ground of its bad tendencies. It is true that the debasement of
the individual, and the wreck of social order, would follow upon
the unflinching adoption of the necessitarian theory in the judg
ments and conduct of men. Virtue would no more be thought toll
deserve love ; crime would no longer be felt to deserve hatred.^
But independently of this aspect of the subject, there is, to say
the very least, a strong presumption against the truth of a theorem
in philosophy that clashes with the common sense and moral sen-1
timents of the race. The awe-inspiring sense of individual respon-ir
sibility, the sting of remorse, the shame of detected sin. emotionsj
of moral reprobation and moral approval, ought not to be treatedil
as illusive, unless they can be demonstrated to be so. Here ar$
phenomena which no metaphysical scheme can afford to ignore.
Surely no theory can ever look for general acceptance which is
obliged to eviscerate or explain away these familiar facts and leave
an irreconcilable conflict in human nature.
How shall the feeling that we are free be accounted for if it be
contrary to the fact ? Let us glance at what famous necessita
rians have to say in answer to this inquiry. First, let us hear one
of the foremost representatives of this school. His solution is
one that has often been repeated. " Men believe themselves to
be free," says Spinoza, " entirely from this, that, though con
scious of their acts, they are ignorant of the causes by which their
acts are determined. The idea of freedom, therefore, comes of
men not knowing the cause of their acts." 1 This is a bare asser
tion, confidently made, but void of proof. It surely is not a self-
evident truth that our belief in freedom arises in this manner.
Further, when we make the motives preceding any particular act
of choice the .object of deliberate scrutiny, the sense of freedom is
not in the least weakened. The motives are distinctly seen, yet
the consciousness of liberty, or of a pluripotential power, remains in
full vigor. Moreover, choice is not the resultant of motives, as in
a case of the composition of forces. One motive is followed, and
its rival rejected. Hume has another explanation of what he con-
1 Ethics, P. ii. prop. xxxv.
5 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
siders the delusive feeling of freedom. " Our idea," he says, " of
necessity and causation arises entirely from the uniformity observ
able in the operations of nature, where similar objects are con
stantly conjoined together, and the mind is determined by custom
to infer the one from the appearance of the other." T This con
stant conjunction of things is all that we know; but men have "a
strong propensity " to believe in " something like a necessary con
nection " between the antecedent and the consequent. "When,
again, they turn their reflections towards the operations of their
own minds, and fee/ no such connection of the motive and the
action, they are thence apt to suppose that there is a difference
between the effects which result from material force, and those
which arise from thought and intelligence." 2 In other words, a
double delusion is asserted. First, the mind, for some unex
plained reason, falsely imagines a tie between the material antece
dent and consequent, and then, missing such a bond between
motive and choice, it rashly infers freedom. So far from this
being a true representation, it is the mind's conscious exertion of
energy that enables it even to conceive of a causal relation
between things external. Hume's solution depends on the theory
that nothing properly called power exists. It is assumed that
there is no power, either in motives or in the will. Hume's neces
sity, unlike that of Spinoza, is mere uniformity of succession,
choice following motive with regularity, but with no nexus between
the two.
J. S. Mill, adopting an identical theory of causation, from
which power is eliminated, lands in the same general conclu
sion, on this question of free-will, as that reached by Hume.
Herbert Spencer holds that the fact " that every one is at liberty
to do what he desires to do (supposing there are no external
hindrances) " is the sum of our liberty. He states that " the
dogma of free-will" is the proposition " that every one is at liberty
to desire or not to desire." That is, he confounds choice and
volition with desire, denies the existence of an elective power
distinct from the desires, and imputes a definition of free-will to
the advocates of freedom which they unanimously repudiate. As
to the feeling of freedom, Mr. Spencer says, " The illusion con-
1 An Enquiry concerning Hitman Understanding, P. i. § 8 (Essays, ed.
Green and Grose, vol. ii. p. 67).
*Ibid., p. 75.
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN /
sists in supposing that at each moment the ego ... is something
more than the aggregate of feelings and ideas, actual and nascent,
which then exists." l When a man says that he determined to
perform a certain action, his error is in supposing his conscious
self to have been " something separate from the group of psy
chical states " constituting his " psychical self." " Will is nothing
but the general name given to the special feeling or feelings which
for a moment prevail over others." 2 The "composite psychical
state which excites the action is at the same time the ego which
is said to will the action." The soul is resolved into a group of
psychical states due to " motor changes " excited by an impres
sion received from without. If there is no personal agent, if / is
a collective noun, meaning a " group " of sensations, it is a waste
of time to argue that there is no freedom. " What we call a
mind," wrote Hume long ago, " is nothing but a heap or collec
tion of different perceptions, united together by certain relations,
and supposed, though falsely, to be endowed with a perfect sim
plicity and identity." Professor Huxley, who quotes this passage,
would make no other correction than to substitute an assertion of
nescience for the positive denial. He would rather say, " that we
know nothing more of the mind than that it is a series of percep
tions."3
Before commenting on this definition of the mind, which robs it
of its unity, it is worth while to notice what account the advocates
of necessity have to give of the feelings of praise and blame, ten
ants of the soul which appear to claim a right to be there, and
which it is very hard even for speculative philosophers to dislodge.
On this topic Spinoza is remarkably chary of explanation. " I
designate as gratitude" he says, "the feeling we experience
from the acting of another, done, as we imagine, to gratify us ;
and aversion, the uneasy sense we experience when we imagine
^-Principles of Psychology, vol. i. p. 500.
2 Ibid., p. 503. It is sometimes said that " Hamlet is left out of the play,"
but this is seldom done, as in this instance, by an explicit avowal. It recalls
the lines of Goethe : —
" Wer will was Lebendigs erkennen und beschreiben,
Sucht erst den Geist herauszutreiben,
Dann hat er die Theile in seiner Hand,
Fehlt, leider ! nur das geistige Band."
3 Huxley's Hume, with Helps to the Study of Berkeley, p. 75 ; also Collected
Essays, vol. vi.
8 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
anything done with a view to our disadvantage; and, whilst we
praise the former, we are disposed to blame the latter." x What
does Spinoza mean by the phrase " with a view to our advantage "
or "disadvantage"? As the acts done, in either case, were
unavoidable on the part of the doer, — as much so as the circula
tion of blood in his veins, — it is impossible to see any reasonable
ness in praise or blame, thankfulness or resentment. Why should
we resent the stab of an assassin more than the kick of a horse?
Why should we be any more grateful to a benefactor than we are
to the sun for shining on us ? If the sun were conscious of shin
ing on us, and of shining on us " with a view" to warm us, in
Spinoza's meaning of the phrase, but with not the least power to
do otherwise, how would that consciousness found a claim to our
gratitude ? What we are looking for is a ground of approbation
or condemnation. When Spinoza proceeds to define " just " and
"unjust," "sin" and "merit," he broaches a theory not dissimilar
to that of Hobbes, that there is no natural law but the desires, that
" in the state of nature there is nothing done that can properly be
characterized as just or unjust," that in " the natural state," prior
to the organization of society, " faults, offences, crimes, cannot be
conceived." ' As for repentance, Spinoza does not hesitate to
lay down the thesis that " repentance is not a virtue, or does not
arise from reason ; but he who repents of any deed he has done is
twice miserable or impotent."3 Penitence is defined as "sorrow
accompanying the idea of something we believe we have done of
free-will." 4 It mainly depends, he tells us, on education. Since
free-will is an illusive notion, penitence must be inferred to be in the
same degree irrational. To these opinions, not less superficial than
they are immoral, the ablest advocates of necessity are driven when
they stand face to face with the phenomena of conscience.
Mill, in seeking to vindicate the consistency of punishment with
his doctrine of determinism, maintains that it is right to punish ;
first, as penalty tends to restrain and cure an evil-doer, and sec
ondly, as it tends to secure society from aggression. " It is just
to punish," he says, "so far as it is necessary for this purpose,"
for the security of society, " exactly as it is just to put a wild beast
to death (without unnecessary suffering) for the same object." 5
1 Ethics, P. iii. prop. xxix. schol. 2 Ibid., P. iv. prop, xxxvii. schol. 2.
3 Ibid., P. iv. prop. liv. 4 Ibid., P. iii. def. 27. ^Examination of Sir
W. Hamilton^ Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 292.
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 9
It will hardly be asserted by any one that a brute deserves punish
ment, in the proper and accepted meaning of the term. Surely
to behead a man requires a defence different in kind from that
required to crush a mosquito. Later, Mill attempts to find a basis
for a true responsibility ; but in doing so he virtually, though un
wittingly, surrenders his necessitarian theory. " The true doctrine
of the causation of human actions maintains," he says, " that not
only our conduct, but our character, is in part amenable to our
will ; that we can, by employing the proper means, improve our
character ; and that if our character is such, that, while it remains
what it is, it necessitates us to do wrong, it will be just to apply
motives which will necessitate us to strive for its improvement,
and to emancipate ourselves from the other necessity." 1 Here,
while verbally holding to his theory of the deterministic agency
of motives, he introduces the phrases which I have put in italics,
— phrases which carry in them the idea of free personal endeavor,
and exclude that of determinism. " The true doctrine of neces
sity," says Mill, "while maintaining that our character is formed
by our circumstances, asserts at the same time that our desires
can do much to alter our circumstances." But how about our
control over our desires? Have we any more control, direct or
indirect, over them than over our circumstances? If not, "the
true doctrine of necessity " no more founds responsibility than
does the naked fatalism which Mill disavows. It is not uncom
mon for necessitarian writers, unconsciously it may be, to draw a
veil over their theory by affirming that actions are the necessary
fruit of a character already formed ; thus leaving room for the
supposition, that, in the forming of that character, the will exerted
at some time an independent agency. But such an agency, it
need not be said, at whatever point it is placed, is incompatible
with their main doctrine.
The standing argument for necessity, drawn out by Hobbes,
Collins, et id omne genus, is based on the law of cause and effect.
It is alleged, that if motives are not efficient in determining the
will, then an event — namely, the particular direction of the will
in a case of choice, or the choice of one object rather than an
other — is without a cause. This has been supposed to be an
invincible argument. In truth, however, the event in question is
not without a cause in the sense that would be true of an event
1 Ibid., vol. ii. p. 299.
10 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
wholly disconnected from an efficient antecedent, — of a world,
for example, springing into being without a Creator. The mind
is endued with the power to act in either of two directions, the
proper circumstances being present ; and, whichever way it may
actually move, its motion is its own, the result of its own power.
That the mind is not subject to the law of causation which holds
good elsewhere than in the sphere of intelligent, voluntary action,
is the very thing asserted. Self-activity, initial motion, is the dis
tinctive attribute of spiritual agents. The prime error of the
necessitarian is in unwarrantably assuming that the mind in its
voluntary action is subject to the same law which prevails in the
realm of things material and unintelligent. This opinion is not
only false, but shallow. For where do we first get our notion of
power or causal energy? Where but from the exercise of our
own wills ? If we exerted no voluntary agency, we should have
no idea of causal efficiency. Being outside of the circle of our
experience, causation would be utterly unknown. Necessitarians,
in the ranks of whom are found at the present day not a few
students of physical science, frequently restrict their observa
tion to things without themselves, and, having formulated a law of
causation for the objects with which they are chiefly conversant,
they forthwith extend it over the mind, — an entity, despite its
close connection with matter, toto genere different. They should re
member that the very terms " force," " power," " energy," "cause,"
are only intelligible from the experience we have of the exercise
of will. They are applied in some modified sense to things ex
ternal. But we are immediately cognizant of no cause but will,
and the nature of that cause must be learned from consciousness •
it can never be learned from an inspection of things heterogene
ous to the mind, and incapable by themselves of imparting to it
the faintest notion of power.
It is sometimes said that the doctrine of the liberty of the will is
self-destructive. The will, it is said, is reduced to a blind power,
dissevered from intelligence and freedom. But " freedom of the
will " is a phrase which means " freedom of self," freedom of the
mind, an indivisible unit — which includes intelligence and sen
sibility, yet is enslaved to neither.
But it is complained that if the operations of the will are not
governed by law, psychologic science is impossible. " Psychical
changes," says Herbert Spencer, " either conform to law, or they
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN II
do not. If they do not conform to law, this work, in common
with all works on the subject, is sheer nonsense ; no science of
psychology is possible. If they do conform to law, there cannot
be any such thing as free-will." ] Were uniformity found, as a
matter of fact, to characterize the self-determinations of the mind,
even then necessity would not be proved. Suppose the mind
always to determine itself in strict conformity with reason ; this
would not prove constraint, or disprove freedom. If it were
shown, that, as a matter of fact, the mind always chooses in the
same way, the antecedents being precisely the same, neither fatal
ism nor determinism would be thereby demonstrated. If it be
meant, by the conformity of the will to law, that no man has the
power to choose otherwise than he actually chooses ; that, to take
an example from moral conduct, no thief, or seducer, or assassin,
was capable of any such previous exercise of will as would have
caused him to abstain from the crimes which he has perpe
trated, — • then every reasonable, not to say righteous, person will
deny the proposition. The alternative that a work on psychology,
so far as it rests on a theory of fatalism, is " sheer nonsense," it
is far better to endure than to fly in the face of common sense
and of the conscience of the race. But psychology has left to it
a wide enough field without the need of denying room for moral
liberty. A book of ethics which is constructed on the assumption
that the free and responsible nature of man is an illusive notion
is worth no more than the postulate on which it is founded.2
Besides the argument against freedom from the alleged incon
sistency with the law of causation which it involves, there is a sec
ond objection which is frequently urged. We are reminded that
1 Psychology, vol. i. p. 621. This passage is not in the 4th ed. See vol. ii. p.
503. The doctrine remains the same. "That the ego is the passing group of
feelings and ideas, ... is true if we include the body and its functions," p.
503. The action is determined by a " certain composite mass of emotion
and thought," p. 501.
2 Of course, Spencer is not alone in these pleas for determinism. For ex
ample, Wundt, who holds to the absolute sway of causality, " psychical
causality," in the specification of choice, complains that without it there can
be " no psychology, no science of mind " ( The Principles of Morality, etc.,
P- 53)- Wundt, like Mill, is anxious to remind his readers that " motives are
effects as well as causes," and that one's " whole previous history " lies back of
any particular choice (pp. 10, 38). But, as with Mill, in these prior choices,
of which character is the result, no real freedom of self is presupposed.
12 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
there is an order of history. Events, we are told, within the sphere
of voluntary agency succeed each other with regularity of sequence^
We can predict what individuals will do with a considerable degree
of confidence, — with as much confidence as could be expected
considering the complexity of the phenomena. There is a prog
ress of a community and of mankind which evinces a reign of law
within the compass of personal action. The conduct of one gen
eration is shaped by the conduct of that which precedes it.
That there is a plan in the course of human affairs, all believers
in Providence hold. History does not present a chaotic series of
occurrences, but a system, a progressive order, to be more or less
clearly discerned. The inference, however, that the wills of men
are destitute of self-activity, is rashly drawn. If it were thought
that we are confronted with two apparently antagonistic truths,
whose point of reconciliation is beyond our ken, the situation
would have its parallels in other branches of human inquiry. We
should be justified in holding to each truth on its own grounds,
each being sufficiently verified, and in waiting for the solution of
the problem. But the whole objection can be shown to rest, in
great part, on misunderstanding of the doctrine of free-will. Free
dom does not involve, of necessity, a haphazard departure from
regularity in the actual choices of men under the same circum
stances. As already remarked, that men do act in one way, in
the presence of given circumstances, does not prove that they
must so act. Again, those who propound this objection fail to
discern the real points along the path of developing character
where freedom is exercised. They often fail to perceive that
there are habits of will which take their rise in self-determination,
— habits for which men are responsible so far as they are morally
right or wrong, and which exist within them as abiding purposes
or voluntary principles of conduct. Of a man who loves money bet
ter than anything else, it may be predicted that he will seize upon
any occasion that offers itself to make an advantageous bargain.
But this love of money is a voluntary principle which he can curb,
and, influenced by moral considerations, supersede by a higher
motive of conduct. The fact of habit, voluntary habit, springing
ultimately from choice, practically circumscribes the variableness
of action, and contributes powerfully to the production of a cer
tain degree of uniformity of conduct, on which prediction as to
what individuals will do is founded. But all predictions in regard
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 13
to the future conduct of men, or societies of men, are liable to
fail, not merely because of the varied and complicated data in the
case of human action, but because new influences, not in the least
coercive, may still set at defiance all statistical vaticinations. A
religious reform, like that of John Wesley, gives rise to an essen
tial alteration of the conduct of multitudes, changes the face of
society in extensive districts, and upsets, for example, previous cal
culations as to the percentage of crime to be expected in the re
gions affected. The seat of moral freedom is deep in the radical
self-determinations by which the chief ends of conduct, the mo
tives of life in the aggregate, are fixed. Kant had a profound per
ception of this truth, although he erred in limiting absolutely the
operations of free-will to the "noumenal" sphere, and in relegat
ing all moral conduct, except the primal choice, to the realm of
phenomenal and therefore necessary action. A theist finds no
difficulty in ascribing moral evil wholly to the will of the creature,
and in accounting for the orderly succession of events, or the plan
of history, by the overruling agency of God, which has no need to
interfere with human liberty, or to constrain or to crush the free
and responsible nature of man, but knows how to pilot the race
onward, be the rocks and cross-currents where and what they may
be.
Self- consciousness and self-determination, each involving the
other, are the essential peculiarities of mind. With self-determi
nation is inseparably connected purpose. The intelligent action
of the will is for an end ; and this preconceived end — which is
last in the order of time, although first in thought — is termed the
final cause. It is the goal to which the volitions dictated by it
point and lead. So simple an act of will as the volition to lift a
finger is for a purpose. The thought of the result to be effected
precedes that efficient act of the will by which, in some inscrut
able way, the requisite muscular motion is produced. I purpose
to send a letter to a friend. There is a plan present in thought
before it is resolved upon, or converted into an intention, and
prior to the several exertions of voluntary power by which it is
accomplished. Guided by this plan, I enter my library, open a
drawer, find the proper writing-materials, compose the letter, seal
it, and despatch it. Here is a series of voluntary actions done in
pursuance of a plan which antedated them in consciousness, and
through them is realized. The movements of brain and muscle
14 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
which take place in the course of the proceeding are subservient
to the conscious plan by which all the power employed in realiz
ing it is directed. This is rational voluntary action ; it is action
for an end. In this way the whole business of human life is car
ried forward. All that is termed "art," in the broadest meaning
of the word, — that is, all that is not included either in the prod
ucts of material nature, which the wit and power of men can
neither produce nor modify, or in the strictly involuntary states
of mind with their physical effects, — comes into being in the way
described. The conduct of men in their individual capacity, the
organization of families and states, the government of nations, the
management of armies, the diversified pursuits of industry, what
ever is because men have willed it to be, is due to self-determina
tion involving design.
The opinion has not wholly lacked supporters that man is an
automaton. All that he does they have ascribed to a chain of
causes wholly embraced within a circle of nervous and muscular
movements. Some, finding it impossible to ignore consciousness,
have contented themselves with denying to non-material states
causal agency. On this view it follows that the plan to take a
journey, to build a house, or to do anything else which presup
poses design, has no influence whatever upon the result. The
same efforts would be produced if we were utterly unconscious of
any intention to bring them to pass. The design, not being cred
ited with the least influence or control over the instruments through
which the particular end is reached, might be subtracted without
affecting the result. Since consciousness neither originates nor
transmits motion, and thus exerts no power, the effects of what we
call voluntary agency would take place as well without it. This
creed, when it is once clearly defined, is not likely to win many
adherents.1
The scientific doctrine of the conservation of energy is entirely
consistent with the freedom of the will and with the reciprocal
influence of mind and body. Whether the general notion of
energy as inhering in material bodies and transmissible is any
thing but a scientific metaphor, it is needless here to discuss.
The doctrine is, that as the sum of matter remains the same, so is
1 For a clear exposition of the consequences of denying the agency of mind,
see Herbert, The Realistic Assumptions of Modern Science, etc., pp. 103 seg.t
128 seq.
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 15
it with the sum of energy, potential or in action, in any body or
system of bodies. Energy may be transmitted ; that is, lost in one
body, it reappears undiminished in another, or, ceasing in one
form, it is exerted in another, and this according to definite ratios.
In other words, there is a correlation of the physical forces.
While this is believed to be true, there is not the slightest evi
dence that mental action is caused by the transmitting of energy
from the physical system. Nor is there any proof that the mind
transfers additional energy to matter. Nor, again, is there the
slightest evidence that mental action is correlated with physical.
That mental action is affected by physical change is evident.
That the mind acts upon the brain, modifying its state, exerting a
directive power upon the nerve-centres, is equally certain. The
doctrine of conservation, as its best expounders — Clerk Maxwell,
for example — have perceived, does not militate in the least
against the limited control of the human will and the supreme
control of the divine.
Attending the inward assurance of freedom is the consciousness
of moral law. While I know that I can do or forbear, I feel that I
ought or ought not. The desires of human nature are various.
They' go forth to external good, which reaches the mind through
the channel of the senses. They go out also to objects less tangi
ble, as power, fame, knowledge, the esteem of others. But dis
tinct from these diverse, and, it may be, conflicting desires, a law
manifests itself in consciousness, and lays its authoritative mandate
on the will. The requirement of that law in the concrete may be
differently conceived. It may be grossly misapprehended. But
the feeling of obligation is an ineradicable element of our being.
It is universal, or as nearly so as the perception of beauty or any
other essential attribute of the soul. For an ethical theory to dis
pense with it is suicide. It implies an ideal or end which the will
is bound freely to realize. Be this end clearly or dimly discerned,
and though it be in a great degree misconceived, its existence is
implied in the imperative character of the law within. The con
fusion that may arise in respect to the contents of the law and the
end to which the law points does not disprove the reality of either.
An unenlightened and perverted conscience is still a conscience.
Shall the source and ground of nature and self-consciousness
alike be placed in the object, the world without? This cannot be.
1 6 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
" Nature cannot give that which she does not herself possess. She
cannot give birth to that which is toto genere dissimilar." Nature
can take no such leap. A new beginning on a plane above Nature
it is beyond the power of Nature to originate. Self-consciousness
can only be referred to self-consciousness as its author and source.
It can have its ground in nothing that is itself void of consciousness.
Only a personal Power above Nature can account for self-conscious
ness in man. It presupposes an original and unconditioned,
because original, self-consciousness. The spark of a divine fire
is deposited in Nature ; it is in Nature, but not of it.
Thus the consciousness of God enters inseparably into the con
sciousness of self as its hidden background.1 " The descent into
our inmost being is at the same time an ascent to God." All pro
found reflection in which the soul withdraws from the world to
contemplate its own being brings us to God, in whom we live and
move. We are conscious of God in a more intimate sense than we
are conscious of finite things. As they themselves are derived, so
is our knowledge of them.
In order to know a limit as a limit, as it is often said, we must
already be in some sense beyond it. " We should not be able,"
says Julius Miiller, " in the remotest degree to surmise that our
personality — that in us whereby we are exalted, not in degree
only, but in kind, above every other existence — is limited, were not
the consciousness of the Absolute Personality originally stamped,
however obscure and however effaced the outlines may often be,
upon our souls." It is in the knowledge of the Infinite One that
we know ourselves as finite.2
Moreover, to self-determination, the second element of person-
1 Shall the conviction of the being of God that springs up in the soul in
connection with feeling of dependence be regarded as the product of infer
ence? It is nearer the truth to say that the recognition of God, more or less
obscure, is something involved and even presupposed in this feeling. How
can there be a sense of self as dependent, unless there be an underlying sense
of a somewhat, however vaguely apprehended, on which we depend? The
one feeling is an implicate of the other.
The error of many who have too closely followed Schleiermacher is in
representing the feeling of dependence as void of an intellectual element.
Ulrici and some other German writers avoid this mistake by using the term
" Gefuhls-perception " to designate that state of mind in which feeling is the
predominant element, and perception is still rudimental and obscure.
2 See J. Miiller, Lehre v. d. Sunde, vol. i. pp. 101 seq.
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 17
ality, like self-consciousness, a limit is consciously prescribed.
The limit is the moral law to which the will is bound, though not
necessitated, to conform. We find this law within us, a rule for
the regulation of the will. It is not merely independent of the
will — this is true of the emotions generally — it speaks with
authority. It is a voice of command and of prohibition. This
rule man spontaneously identifies with the will of Him who reveals
himself in consciousness as the Author of his being. The uncon
ditional nature of the demand which we are conscious that the
moral law makes upon us, against all rebellious desires and pas
sions, in the face of our own antagonistic will, can only be ex
plained by identifying it thus with a higher Will from which it
emanates. In self-consciousness God reveals his being ; in con
science he reveals his authority and his will concerning man.
Through this recognition of the law of conscience as the will of
God in whom we live, morality and religion coalesce.
Sir William Hamilton, in pointing out the basis of theism,1 sets
in contrast the natural world in which the phenomena " are pro
duced and reproduced in the same invariable succession," "in the
chain of physical necessity," with the phenomena of man in whom
intelligence is a " free power," being subject only to the law of
duty, which he can carry into effect. This proves that in the
order of existence, as we experience it in ourselves, intelligence is
supreme, and as far as its liberty extends "is independent of
necessity and matter." By analogy, Hamilton argues, we are
authorized to carry into the order of the universe the relation
which we find in the human constitution. The argument is sound,
for it is on the path of Analogy that science has made its advance.
It is not reflection, however, and reasoning, but that immediate
self-revelation of God in the human mind which, as explained
above, is at the root of theistic faith.
It is obvious that the dictates of conscience, so far as its action
is sound and normal, express the moral preferences, that is to say,
the character, of God. His holiness is evidenced in the condem
nation uttered within us of purposes and practices at variance with
righteousness. The love of God is expressed in the mandate of
conscience to exercise just and kindly feelings, to act conformably
to them and to cherish a comprehensive good will. Whenever
conscience is so awakened and enlightened as to discern that an
1 Metaphysics, pp. 21 seq.
C
1 8 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
unselfish spirit is the law of life, the revelation in the soul is
complete that God is Love.
Not through the channel of intelligence and of conscience alone,
but also through that of sensibility and affection, is God manifest
to the soul. Religion is communion with God. If we look atten
tively at religion in its pure and elevated form, as, for example, it
finds expression in Psalms of the Old Testament, we shall best per
ceive its constituent elements, and the sources within us from
which it springs. We shall find that along with the sense of obli
gation and of dependence in which the existence of a Supreme
Being is recognized, there is intimately connected a native pro
clivity to rest upon, and hold converse with, Him in whom we
live. The tendency to commune with Him is an essential part of
the religious constitution of man. To pray to Him for help, to
lean on Him for support, to worship Him, are native and sponta
neous movements of the human spirit. Man feels himself drawn
to the Being who reveals Himself to him in the primitive operations
of intelligence and conscience, and inspires him with the sense of
dependence. As man was made for God, there is a nisus in the
direction of this union to his Creator. This tendency, which may
take the form of an intense craving, may be compared to the
social instinct with which it is akin. As man was made not to be
alone, but to commune with other beings like himself, solitude
would be an unnatural and almost unbearable state ; and a longing
for converse with other men is a part of his nature. In like man
ner, as man was made to commune with God, he is drawn to God
by an inward tendency, the strength of which is derived from the
vacuum left in the soul, and the unsatisfied yearning, consequent
on an exclusion of God as the supreme object of love and trust.
These feelings are not to be discounted from the testimony in the
soul to his being.
John Fiske in his little book Through Nature to God? speaks
of the nascent Human Soul vaguely reaching forth toward
something akin to itself not in the realm of fleeting phenomena
but in the Eternal Presence beyond. He adds : " If the re-
1 Cf. Ulrici, Gott u. die Natur, pp. 606 seq. " The general conviction of a
divine existence we regard as less an inference than a perception." — IJowne,
Studies in Theism, p. 79.
2 pp. 1 88, 189.
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 19
lation thus established in the morning twilight of Man's existence
between the Human Soul and a world invisible and immaterial
is a relation of which only the subjective term is real and the
objective term is non-existent, then I say it is something utterly
without precedent in the whole history of creation." It contra
dicts "all the analogies of evolution," so far as we understand
it. To whatever just criticism some expressions of this author con
nected with the foregoing observations may be open, these state
ments on the "Everlasting Reality of Religion" are sound and
impressive. " Our heart is restless," writes Augustine, " unless it
repose in Thee."
In sense-perception external objects are brought directly to our
knowledge. Through sensations compared and combined by
reason, we perceive outward things in their being and relations.
There are perceptions of the spirit as well as of sense. The being
whom we call God may, so to speak, come in contact with the
soul. As the soul, in the experience of sensations, posits the
outer world, so, in analogous inward experiences, it posits God.
The feelings, yearnings, aspirations, which are at the root of the
spiritual perception, are not continuous, as in the perceptions of
matter ; they vary in liveliness ; they are contingent, in a remark
able degree, on character. Hence religious faith may not have
the clearness, the uniform and abiding character, which belongs
to our recognition of outward things.1
The understanding is not the sole authority in the sphere of
moral and religious belief. Rationalism has been defined as "a
usurpation of the understanding." There are moral exactions and
dictates which have a voice not to be disregarded. So, likewise,
are there instinctive, almost irrepressible, instincts of feeling to be
taken into account. It is the satisfaction of the spirit, and not
any single organ or function of the soul, which is felt to be the
criterion of full-orbed truth. " If a certain formula for expressing
the nature of the world violates my moral demand, I shall be as
free to throw it overboard, or at least to doubt it, as if it disap
pointed my demand for uniformity of sequence." 2 " Just as within
1 On the subject of the immediate manifestation of God to the soul, and
the analogy of sense-perception, the reader may be referred to Lotze, Grund-
zuge d. ReligiomphiL, p. 3; Mikrokosmos, vol. iii. chap, iv.; Ulrici, Gott u. die
Natur, pp. 605-624; Gott u. der Mensch, vol. i.; Bowne, Studies in Theism,
chap. ii. 2 Professor William James, The Will to Believe, etc., p. 147.
20 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the limits of theism some kinds are surviving others by reason of
their greater practical rationality, so theism itself, by reason of its
practical rationality, is certain to survive all lower creeds." 1
"There is a moral as well as a logical rationality to be satisfied,"
is a pithy sentence of the same author, who adds respecting the
inquiries and suggestions of natural science that even " Physics
is always seeking to satisfy our own subjective passions."
Belief in a future life, in immortality, is closely connected with
belief in God. The soul that communes with him finds in this
very relation — in the sense of its own worth implied in this rela
tion — the assurance that it is not to perish with its material
organs. It is conscious of belonging to a different order of things.
In proportion as the moral and religious nature is roused to activ
ity, this consciousness gains in life and vigor. " ' But how do you
wish us to bury you? ' said Crito to Socrates. 'Just as you please,'
he answered, 'if you only get hold of me and do not let me escape
you.' And quietly laughing and glancing at us, he said, ' I cannot
persuade Crito, my friends, that this Socrates, who is now talking
with you, and laying down each one of these propositions, is my
very self; for his mind is full of the thought that /am he whom
he is to see in a little while as a corpse ; and so he asks how he
shall bury me.' " 2
The consciousness of a free and responsible nature, of a law
suggestive of a personal Lawgiver, of the need of communion with
the Father of the spirit, of the sense of orphanage without God,
are not all that is required for the realization of religion in the
soul. There must be an acknowledgment of God which carries in
it an active concurrence of the will. The will utters its "yea"
and "amen" to the attractive power of God experienced within
the soul. It gives consent to the reality of that dependence and
obligation to obedience, in which the finite soul stands to God.
" The holding fast to the personal God and to the inviolability of
conscience, is an act of the soul, conditioned on a living sense of
the supreme worth of this conviction." Faith springs from no
coercion of logic. When a man is sorely tempted by plausible
reasoning, but chooses to abide by the right, come what will, it is
1 Professor William James, The Will to Believe, etc., p. 126.
2 Plato, PJuedo, 115.
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 21
a kind of venture. The inward satisfaction, with the decision once
made, requires no other testimonial. We believe in God, not on
the ground of a scientific demonstration, but because it is our
duty to believe in him. Faith in its general sense is defined by
Coleridge as " fidelity to our own being — so far as such being is
not and cannot become an object of the senses," together with its
concomitants, the first of which is the acknowledgment of God.1
The refusal thus practically to acknowledge God by a ratifying
act of the will, the assent of the entire man, is to enthrone the
false principle of self-assertion or self-sufficiency in the soul, —
false because it is contrary to the reality of things. It is a kind
of self-deification. Man may refuse " to retain God in his knowl
edge." The result is, that the feelings out of which religion
springs, and in which it is rationally founded, are not extirpated,
but are driven to fasten on finite objects in the world, or on ficti
tious creations of the imagination. Idolatry is the enthronement
of that which belongs to the creature, in the place of the Creator.
There is an idolatry of which the world, in the form of power,
fame, riches, pleasure, or knowledge, is the object. When the
proper food is wanting, the attempt is made to appease the appe
tite with drugs and stimulants.
Theology has deemed itself 'warranted by sound philosophy, as
well as by the teaching of Scripture, in maintaining, that, but for the
intrusion of moral evil or the practical substitution of a finite object,
real or imaginary, for God as the supreme good, the knowledge of
him would shine more and more brightly in the soul, from
the dawn of intelligence, keeping pace with its advancing de
velopment. The more one turns the eye within, and fastens his
attention on the characteristic elements of his own spirit, the more
clear and firm is found to be his belief in God. And the more
completely the will follows the law that is written on the heart, the
more vivid is the conviction of the reality of the Lawgiver, whose
authority is expressed in it. The experience of religion carries
with it a constantly growing sense of the reality of its object.
The following extracts from two writers of marked ability, al
though not in entire accord in their points of view, are excellent
statements of a philosophical truth.
1 Fresh and instructive observations on the voluntary element in belief are
contained in the work cited above, The Will to Believe, etc., by Professor
James.
22 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
" Not only is the subject active in perception, but he necessarily
and inevitably has an inchoate consciousness of himself as a sub
ject in distinction from the subjects which that activity enables
him to apprehend. . . . And the same is true of the idea of God
which is presupposed in the division of the self from the not-self
and in all other divisions of consciousness. . . . And, like the
idea of self, the idea of God must at a very early period take some
form for us, though it may not for a very long time take an ade
quate form. Man may hide his inborn sense of the infinite in
vague superstitions which confuse it with the finite ; but he cannot
altogether escape from it, or prevent his consciousness of the finite
from being disturbed by it." 1
" Anterior to and independent of philosophy, a tacit faith in the
ego, in external things, and in God, seems to pervade human ex
perience ; mixing, often unconsciously, with the lives of all ;
never perfectly defined, but in its fundamental ideas more or
less operative ; often intellectually confused, yet never without a
threefold influence in human life. . . . Life is good and happy
in proportion to the due acknowledgment of all the three. Con
fused conceptions of the three are inexhaustible sources of two
extremes — superstition and scepticism."2
But we have to look at men as they are. As a matter of fact,
" the consciousness of God " is obscure, more latent than ex
plicit, germinant rather than developed. It waits to be quickened
and illuminated by the manifestation of God in nature and provi
dence, and by instruction.
Writers on psychology have frequently neglected to give an
account of presentiment, a state of consciousness in which feeling
is predominant, and knowledge is indistinct. There are vague an
ticipations of truth not yet clearly discerned. It is possible to seek
for something, one knows not precisely what. Were it discerned
it would not have to be sought. Yet it is not utterly beyond our ken,
else how could we seek for it ? Explorers and inventors may feel
themselves on the threshold of great discoveries just before they
are made. Poets, at least, have recognized the deep import of
occult, vague feelings which almost baffle analysis. The German
psychologists who have most satisfactorily handled the subject
1 E. Caird, The Evolution of Religion, vol. i. pp. 184, 1 86.
2 Fraser, Philosophy of Theism, second edition, amended (1899).
THE PERSONALITY OF GOD AND OF MAN 23
before us, as Lotze, Ulrici, Julius Miiller, Nitzsch, find in their
language an expressive term to designate our primitive sense or
apprehension oi God. It is Ahnung, of which our word " presage "
is a partial equivalent. The apostle Paul refers to the providential
control of nations as intended to incite men " to seek the Lord, if
haply they might feel after Him, and find Him." ] He is not
known, but sought for. Rather do men feel after Him, as a blind
man moves about in quest of something, or as we grope in the
dark. This philosophy of religion is conformed to the observed
facts. There is that in man which makes him restless without God,
discontented with every substitute for Him. The subjective basis
for religion, inherent in the very constitution of the soul, is the
spur to the search for God, the condition of apprehending Him
when revealed (whether in nature, or in providence, or in Christi
anity), and the ultimate ground of certitude as to the things of
faith.2
1 Acts xvii. 27.
2 For additional remarks on the origin of religion, see Appendix, Note I.
CHAPTER II
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD : THEIR FUNCTION IN
GENERAL AND AS SEVERALLY CONSIDERED
IT will be clear, from the foregoing chapter, that the ultimate
source of the belief in God is not in processes of argument. His
presence is more immediately manifest. There is a native belief,
arising spontaneously in connection with the feeling of dependence
and the phenomena of conscience, however obscure, undeveloped,
or perverted that faith may be. The arguments for the being of
God confirm, at the same time that they elucidate and define it.
They are so many different points of view from which we contem
plate the object of faith. Each one of them tends to show, not
simply that God is, but what He is. They fill out the conception
by pointing out particulars brought to light in the manifestation
which God has made of Himself.
In presenting the several proofs of theism, which is the doctrine
of a personal God, infinite in His attributes, we begin with the
intuition which is denominated, in the language of philosophy, the
Unconditioned, the Absolute. By " the Absolute " is signified
that which is complete in itself, that which stands in no necessary
relation to other beings. It denotes being which is independent
as to existence and action. A cognate notion is that of the
Infinite, which designates being without limit. The Uncondi
tioned, in form a negative term, is more generic. It means free
from all restriction. It is often used as synonymous with "the
Absolute," a term positive in its significance.
We have an immediate conviction of the reality of the Absolute,
that is, of being which is dependent upon no other as the condi
tion of existence and activity. When we look abroad upon the
world, we discern a multitude of objects, each bounded by others,
each conditioned by beings other than itself, none of them com
plete or independent. We perceive everywhere demarcation,
mutual dependence, interaction. Looking within, we see that our
24
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 25
own minds and our mental processes are in the same way restricted,
conditioned. The mind has a definite constitution; the act of
knowledge requires an object as its necessary condition. The
spectacle of the world is that of a vast aggregate of interrelated
beings, none of them independent, self-originated, self-sustained.
Inseparable from this perception of the relative, the limited, the
dependent, is the idea of the Unconditioned, the Absolute. It is
the correlate of the finite and conditioned. Its reality is known as
implied in the reality of the world of finite, interacting, dependent
existences. The Unconditioned is abstract in form, but only in
form. It is not a mere negative ; it must have a positive content.
It is negative in its verbal form, because it is antithetical to the
conditioned, and is known through it. But the idea is positive,
though it be incomplete ; that is to say, although we fall short of a
complete grasp of the object denoted by it. The reality of the
Unconditioned, almost all philosophers, except Positivists of an ex
treme type, recognize. Metaphysicians of the school of Hamilton
and Mansel hold that, as a reality, it is an object of immediate
and necessary belief, although, according to their definition of
terms, they do not regard it as an object of concept! ve thought.
But some sort of knowledge of it there must be in order to such a
belief. Moreover, the Unconditioned is not merely subjective, it
is not a mere idea, as Kant, in the theoretical part of his phi
losophy, holds. He makes this idea necessary to the order, con
nection, and unity of our knowledge. We can ask for no surer
criterion of real existence than this.1 Unconditioned being is
the silent presupposition of all our knowing. Be it observed,
likewise, that the idea of the Absolute is not that of " the sum of
all reality," — a quantitative notion. It is not the idea of the
Unrelated, but of that which is not of necessity related. It does
not exclude other beings, but other beings only when conceived
of as a necessary complement of itself, or as the product of its
necessary activity, or as existing independently alongside of itself.
Again, the Absolute which is given in the intuition is one. It is
infinite, not as comprehending in itself of necessity all beings, but
as their ground and as incapable of any conceivable augmenting of
its powers. It is free from all restrictions which are not self-
imposed. Anything more respecting the Absolute is not here
affirmed. It might be, as far as we have gone now, the universal
1 Cf. Trendelenburg, Logiscke UntersucJmngen, vol. ii. p. 426.
26 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
substance, the impersonal deity of Spinoza, or it might be " the
Unknowable " of Spencer. For the rectifying of these hypotheses,
we depend on other considerations.
The " arguments " for the being of God are usually classified as
the ontological, the cosmological, and the teleological, or the
argument of design. This last comprehends the evidences of
design in Nature, together with the moral and historical arguments
having a like probative value.
I. The ontological argument. This makes the existence of God
involved in the idea of Him. This argument does not profess to
appeal to the intuition of the Absolute which is evoked in conjunc
tion with our perceptions of relative and dependent existence. The
ontological proof begins and ends with the analysis of the idea. The
proposition is that the fact of the existence of God is involved in the
very idea. In the argument of Anselm, it is affirmed that the great
est (or the most perfect) conceivable being must be actual ; other
wise, a property, that of actuality, or objective being, is lacking.
To this it has been answered that existence in re is not a constitu
ent of a concept. Anselm's contention was that it is not mere
existence, but a mode of existence, a necessity of existence, that is
the missing element in question. Still, it has been answered, the
existence of a thing cannot be concluded from the definition of a
word. In truth, that which Anselm presents in the shape of a
syllogistic proof is really the rational intuition of Absolute Being.1
From the mere idea, except on the basis of philosophical realism,
a corresponding entity cannot be inferred.
Descartes alleges a double basis for our knowledge of the exist
ence of God. The idea of an infinite self-conscious being is
deduced from our own finite self-consciousness. That idea can
not be a product of the finite self. Its presence in the human
mind can be accounted for, only by ascribing it to the Infinite
Being himself. But, further, Descartes follows in the path of
Anselm, and holds that the fact of the existence of God is in
volved in the definition of the Most Real Being, just as the equal
ity of the three angles of a triangle is involved in the definition of
a triangle. Here, moreover, the intuition of the Absolute is cast
into the form of a proof.
Dr. Samuel Clarke's " demonstration " only establishes a priori
the existence of a being eternal and necessarily existing. For of
1 So it is interpreted by Harris, The Self-Revelation of God, p. 164.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 2/
the intelligence of this being the proof is a posteriori. Facts are
adduced, — namely, the order and beauty perceived in the world,
and the intelligence possessed by finite, human beings.1
There is cogency in what has been called the logical form of
the a priori proof. It is adopted by Anselm and Aquinas. It is
impossible to deny that there is Truth ; the denial would be self-
contradictory. But those ideas and truths which are the ground
work of all our knowing — the laws of our intellectual and moral
constitution — have their source without us and beyond us. They
inhere in God. A like indirect proof has been presented as fol
lows. The human mind goes out of itself to know the world, and
also, by exertions of the will, to mould and subdue it. Yet the
world is independent of the mind that seeks thus to comprehend
it and shape it to its purposes. This freedom of the mind implies
that the world is intelligible, that there is thought in things. Al
though this proposition is denied by agnostics, yet it is tacitly
admitted by them in all communications made from one to
another. It implies that there is a common bond — namely, God,
the Truth — between thoughts and things, mind and the world.
Thought and thing, subject and object, each matched to the other,
presuppose an intelligible ground of both. This presupposition is
latent in all attempts to explore and comprehend, to bring within
the domain of knowledge, and to shape to rational ends, the world
without.
II. The cosmological proof. As usually stated, this proof is
made to rest on the principle of causation. Whatever begins to
be, owes its being to a cause not itself. The minor premise is that
finite things begin to be. But this proposition, if it be admitted
to be probably true, is not capable of full demonstration. The
consequence is that we must fall back on the intuition of the Abso
lute Being. Here we find the origin and justification of the princi
ple of causation. The hypothesis of an infinite series or regress,
does not meet this demand. It is equivalent to saying that there
is no cause, that the notion of cause is illusive. A phenomenon
— call it a — calls for explanation ; it demands a cause. If we
are told that the cause of it is b, but told at the same time that in b
there is no fount of causal energy, so that we have precisely the same
demand to satisfy respecting b as respecting a, then no answer
has been given to our first question : we are put off with an eva-
1 See, on Clarke's argument, Dr. R. Flint, in Encycl. Brit. vol. ix. p. 1 10.
28 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
sion. That question takes for granted the reality of aboriginal
causal energy. It proceeds from a demand of intelligence which
is illegitimate and irrational, unless there be a cause in the abso
lute sense, — a cause uncaused.
The existence of an eternal being, the cause of the world, is veri
fied. It is a reasonable judgment that the uncaused eternal being
is a voluntary agent. For where do we get our idea of " cause? "
For an answer to this question, we must look within. It is in the ex
ercise of will alone that we become conscious of power, and arrive at
the notion of causation. We act upon the world exterior to self,
and consciously meet with resistance from without, which gives us
the consciousness of external reality. It has been already ex
plained that we have no direct knowledge of anything of the na
ture of cause, nor could we ever get such knowledge, except
through this exercise of energy in voluntary action. The will
influences intellectual states through attention, which is a volun
tary act. We can fasten our observation on one thing, or one
idea, in preference to another. The nascent self-activity which
we style the exercise of the will belongs to the earliest develop
ment of the mind. It is doubtful whether distinct perception
would be possible without a directing of the attention to one after
another of the qualities of external objects, or at least without
such a discrimination among the phenomena presented to the
senses as involves the exercise of attention. Now, were it not for
this consciousness of causal activity in ourselves, in our own wills,
were we merely the subjects of utterly passive impressions from the
world without, the conception of cause would be wanting.
Inasmuch as the only cause of which we are immediately con
scious is will, it is the dictate of reason to refer the power which
acts upon us from without to will as its source. The theory that
"forces " inhere in nature, which. are disconnected from the agency
of will, is without warrant from ascertained truth in science. If it
be supposed that plural agencies, separate or combined, do exist,
even then analogy justifies the belief that they are dependent for
their being and sustained activity on a Supreme Will. In this
case, the precise mode of the connection of the primary and the
subordinate agency is a mystery, as is true of the muscular move
ments of the human arm, so far as they originate and are kept up
by volition. That the will of God is immanent and active in all
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 29
things, is a legitimate inference from what we know by experience
of the nature of causation.
The polytheistic religions did not err in identifying the mani
fold activities of nature with voluntary agency. The spontaneous
feelings of mankind in this particular are not belied by the
principles of philosophy. The error of polytheism lies in the
splintering of that Will which is immanent in all the operations of
nature into a plurality of personal agents, a throng of divinities,
each active and dominant chiefly within a province of its own.
How shall we confute polytheism? What warrant is there for
asserting the unity of the Power that pervades nature ?
In the first place, an example of such a unity is presented in
the operation of our own wills. We put forth a multitude of voli
tions ; we exert our voluntary agency in many different directions \
this agency stretches over long periods of time ; yet the same
identical will is the source of all these effects. To attribute the
sources of our passive impressions collectively to a single self
without, as our personal exertions consciously emanate from a
single self within, is natural and rational.
Secondly, what philosophers call the " law of parsimony " pre
cludes us from assuming more causes to account for a given effect
than are necessary. The One self- existent Being, known to us by
intuition, suffices to account for the phenomena of nature. To
postulate a plurality of such beings — were a plurality of self-exist
ent beings metaphysically possible — would compel the conclu
sion that they are either in concord or in conflict.
Thirdly, the fact that nature is one coherent system proves
that the operations of nature spring from one efficient Cause.
The progress of scientific observation tends to show that the
world is a cosmos. Science is constantly clearing away barriers
which have been imagined to break up the visible universe into
distinct and separate provinces. The word " universe " signifies
unity. Men speak of the heavens and the earth; but the earth
belongs in the starry system. The earth is a planet, and with its
associate planets is one of countless similar groups, not alien
from one another, but linked together in the stellar universe.
Scientific theory more and more favors the reduction of " forces "
to unity. The theory of the conservation of force is an illustra
tion. The unity of the world testifies to the unity of God.
III. The argument of design. The personality of God is
3<D THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
proved by the argument of design. God is known to be intel
ligent and free by the manifest traces of purpose in the constitu
tion of the world.
When we attend to the various objects, the human mind in
cluded, of which the knowing faculty takes cognizance, we discover
something more than the properties which differentiate one from
another and the causes which bring them into being.1 In this
very process of investigation we are struck with the fact that there
is a coincidence and cooperation of what are named physical or
efficient causes for the production of definite effects. These
causes are perceived to be so constituted and disposed as to con
cur in the production of the effect, and — the elective preferences
of the will excepted — to concur in such a way that the particular
result regularly follows. This conjunction of disparate agencies,
of which a definite product is the outcome, is the finality which
is observed in Nature. But our observation extends farther.
We involuntarily assume that this coincidence of causes is in order
that the peculiar and specific result may follow. This assumption
of design is not an arbitrary act on our part. It is spontaneous.
The conviction is one inspired by the objects themselves^ We
see a thought realized, and recognize in it a forethought.
All must admit that the observation of order and adaptation in
Nature, inspiring the conviction of a designing mind concerned
in its origination, is natural to mankind. It has impressed alike
the philosopher and the peasant. Socrates made use of the illus
tration of a statue, as Paley, two thousand years later, chose the
illustration of a watch.
The proof from evidences of design is styled the argument from
" final causes." In this expression, the term " final " refers to the
end for which anything is made, as distinguished from what we
style the mechanical causes concerned in its origination. The
end is the purpose in view, and is so called because its manifes
tation is last in the order of time. Thus, a man purposes to
build a house. He collects the materials, brings them into the
proper shape, raises the walls, and, in short, does everything need
ful to carry out his intention. The final cause is seen in the com-
1 Be it observed that we use the term " causes," in this connection, in the
sense in which it is popularly taken, and without reference now to the question
whether forces distinct from the agency of the divine will and resident in
matter are to be regarded as real.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 31
pleted dwelling for the habitation of his family. The final cause
of a watch is to tell the time. The efficient causes are all the
forces and agencies concerned in the making of it and in the reg
ular movement of its parts.
It is a familiar fact that a thing may be an end, and, at the same
time, a means to another end more remote. When a mechanic
is making a spoke, it is the spoke which is the immediate end in
view. But the end of the spoke is to connect the rim of the
wheel with the hub. The end of the wheel is to revolve upon
the axle ; and the wagon is the end for which all its parts are
fashioned and connected. The transporting of persons or things
is a further end, ulterior but prior in the order of thought.
There are subordinate ends and chief ends. We are not, there
fore, to ignore the marks of design, even in cases where the chief
end, the ultimate purpose, may be faintly perceived, or be quite in
the dark.
It is sometimes said that " we cannot reason from the works of
man to the works of nature." Why not? We are seeking to
explain the origin of the scene that is spread before us in the
world in which we live. Is the cause intelligent? We know what
are the characteristic signs of intelligence. These signs are obvi
ous in the world around us. The marks of design in nature re
veal to us its intelligent author. For the same reason that we
recognize an intelligent cause in countless products of human
agency whose particular origin and authorship we know not, we
infer an intelligent cause in things not made by man. In them
we discern equal evidence of an end reached by the selection and
combination of means adapted to accomplish it. If it is not a
literal truth, it is far more than a fancy, when we say that they
conspire to produce it.
This mode of reasoning is often considered an argument from
analogy. We sometimes apply the term " analogy " to a merely
figurative likeness which the imagination suggests ; as when we
speak of the " analogy " between a rushing stream and the rapid
utterance of an excited orator. This is the diction of poetry.
But when we have always found that certain properties in an animal
are united with a given characteristic — for example, speed — we
expect wherever we meet the same collection of properties, to
find in their company this additional quality. This we look for with
a certain degree of confidence even when no specific connection
32 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
between such properties and their associate has yet been detected.
This is an argument from analogy.
J. S. Mill maintains that the argument of design is a genuine
instance of inductive reasoning. "The design argument," says
Mill, " is not drawn from mere resemblance in nature to the work
of human intelligence, but from the special character of this resem
blance. The circumstances in which it is alleged that the world
resembles the works of man are not circumstances taken at random,
but are particular instances of a circumstance which experience
shows to have real connection with an intelligent origin, the fact
of conspiring to an end. The argument, therefore, is not one of
mere analogy. As mere analogy it has its weight, but it is more
than analogy. It surpasses analogy exactly as induction surpasses
it. It is an inductive argument." 1
But the argument of design has an a priori basis and
consequently is universal in its application. Induction itself,
as a method of reasoning, presupposes what is termed the
uniformity of nature, or an order of nature — an established asso
ciation of observed antecedents and consequents. This convic
tion is not one of the intuitions constitutive of reason, and
admitting of no possible or conceivable exception, but is a
belief grounded on wide and long-continued experience, and
thus serving as a " working postulate." But the idea of end
or purpose as implied in all things and events, like the idea of
what is termed efficient or physical or mechanical causation,
has a strictly a priori origin. The idea of final purpose arises in
our own experience in carrying out a desire by means chosen
for this end. AVe are not less prompted to ask "what for " than
to ask " how." Mechanism of itself explains nothing. The very
term properly signifies means to an end. The world, if conceived
of as only a vast mechanism, would be a fathomless mystery im
pervious to reason,2 and not what it really is, the spectacle of
forces realizing ideas. The objection that to attribute design
to material things and to the world as a whole is anthropomor-
1 Three Essays on Religion ; Theism, pp. 169, 170.
2 For a clear exposition and proof of the a priori basis of the idea of
Design, see Ladd, A Theory of Reality, ch. xiv. See also, Trendelenburg,
Logische Untersuchungen, 3d ed., vol. ii. ch. ix., Zweck ; Dorner, System d.
Christl. Glaubenslehre, vol. i. pp. 252-257; N. Porter, The Human Intellect,
pp. 592-619.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 33
phict has no real weight. It shares this character in company
with the idea of mechanical causation. In each case the human
mind finds its own rational constitution reflected and embodied
in external reality.1 Our knowledge of the world without con
sists in the projection of the categories in our mental processes
into things without. It is undeniable that nature is a system, or
proceeds according to a plan. The postulate of science is the
rationality of nature. Science, in the words of Huxley, is " the dis
covery of the rational order that pervades the universe." Without
this presupposition of a rational order, scientific investigation would
be the pursuit of a chimera. Nature, it is taken for granted, is the
embodiment of thoughts. All nature is but a book which science
undertakes to decipher and read. When the student explores any
department of Nature, it is to unveil its laws and adaptations.2
Because Nature is a rational system, it is adapted to our cogni
tive faculties. This correspondence proves that the author of the
mind is the author of " the mind in Nature." What being, says
Cicero, that is " destitute of intellect and reason could have pro
duced these things which not only had need of reason to cause
them to be, but which are such as can be understood only by the
highest exertions of reason?"2 What are the laws of Nature?
They are a description of the observed and customary interaction
of things. To hypostatize " Law," either in the singular or the
plural, if more than a figure of speech is meant, is to set up a
crude species of Nature-worship. Laws are the rules conform
ably to which the unitary power operative in Nature, or, if one
pleases so to think, the multiple forces in Nature, act. We can
not think of them otherwise than as prescribed, as ordained to
the end that they may work out their effects. In other words,
the order of Nature is an arrangement of intelligence. This
explains the joy that springs up in the mind on the discovery
of some great law which gives simplicity to seemingly complex
natural phenomena. Thought gains access to reality through
their mutual affinity. The mind recognizes something akin to
itself. It discovers a thought of God. The norms according to
which the knowing faculty discriminates, connects, and classifies
the objects in Nature, imply that Nature herself has been pre-
1 What is deducible a priority epistemological argument (see above, p. 18)
can be shown inductively.
'2 De Nat. Deorinn, ii. 44.
34 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
arranged according to the same norms, or is the product of mind.
In conformity to the categories — time, space, quantity, quality,
etc. — according to which the mind distinguishes natural objects,
and thus comprehends Nature, Nature has been framed. That
is to say, there is mind expressed in Nature.
Science is the statement of the expressions of thought and
purpose which are incorporated in Nature. A dog sees on a
printed page only meaningless marks on a white ground. To us
they contain and convey ideas, and bring us into communion with
the mind of the author. So it is with Nature. Take a book of
astronomy. If the stellar world were not an intellectual system,
such a work would be impossible. The sky itself is the book
which the astronomer reads, and the written treatise is merely a
transcript of the thoughts which he finds there. This truth is pre
sented with much force and eloquence by one of the most
eminent mathematicians of the age, the late Benjamin Pierce.
He speaks of Nature as " imbued with intelligible thought," l
of " the amazing intellectuality inwrought into the unconscious
material world," 2 in which there is " no dark corner of hopeless
obscurity,"3 of the "dominion of intellectual order everywhere
found,"4 "of the vast intellectual conceptions in Nature."5 To
ignore God as the author of Nature as well as of mind is as
absurd as to make " the anthem the offspring of unconscious
sound." 6 " If the common origin of mind and matter is con
ceded to reside in the decree of a Creator, the identity ceases to
be a mystery."7 Science is the reflex of mind in Nature. Nature
is made up of interacting objects which constitute together one
complete system.8 Order reigns in Nature, and universal harmony.
Hence all these separate objects must be so fashioned and man
aged that they shall conspire to sustain and promote, and not to
convulse and subvert, the complex whole. It follows that the
existence and preservation of the system are an end for the
realizing of which the plurality of forces — if supposed to be plural
— and their special activities are the means. That is, Nature in
its totality exhibits design.
1 Pierce, Ideality in the Physical Sciences (1883), p. 19.
2 p. 20. 4 p. 25. ° p. 32.
3 p. 21. 5 p. 26. 7 p. 31.
8 It was a noble title of CucUvorth, however ambitious it may sound:
" The True Intellectual System of the Universe."
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 35
The belief in design has been at the root of scientific discovery.
It has suggested the hypotheses which investigation has verified.
Such was the source of Newton's discovery of the law of gravita
tion. Harvey was led to find out the true system of the circula
tion of the blood by observing that in the channels through which
the blood flows, one set of valves opens toward the heart, while
another set opens in the opposite direction. He had faith in the
prudence of nature.
Robert Boyle tells us : —
" I remember that when I asked our famous Harvey what were the
things that induced him to think of the circulation of the blood, he
answered me, that when he took notice of the valves in many parts of
the body, so placed that they gave free passage to the blood toward the
heart, but opposed to the passage of the venous blood the contrary way,
he was invited to think that so prudent a cause as nature had not placed
so many valves without a design, and no design seemed more probable
than that, since the blood could not well, because of the intervening
valves, be sent by the veins to the limits, it should be sent through the
arteries, and returned through the veins, whose valves did not oppose
its course that way."
Kepler was moved to his discoveries by " an exalted faith,
anterior and superior to all science, in the existence of intimate
relations between the constitution of man's mind and that of
God's firmament." 1 Such a faith is at the root of " the prophetic
inspiration of the geometers," which the progress of observation
verifies.
The distinction between order and design, in the popular
sense of the term, — meaning special adaptations, — is a valid and
important one. Especially is this discrimination to be borne in
mind since the advent of the modern theories of evolution. By
order we mean the reign of law and the harmony of the world
resulting from it. Both order and the relation of means to special
ends imply intelligent purpose. Both order and special adapta
tion may and do coexist, but they are distinguishable from one
another. For example, the typical unity of animals of the verte
brate class, or their conformity in structure to a typical idea, is an
example of order. The fitness of the foot for walking, the wing
for flying, the fin for swimming, is an instance of special adapta
tion. In either case there is an immanence of ideas.
1 Pierce, Ideality in the Physical Sciences, p. 17.
36 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
What is meant by the explanation of any object of nature?
What is it to explain any particular organ in a living being? What
is it but to define its end? There can be no explanation of an
organism which does not presuppose adaptation. This is the
meaning of organism : one whole composed of mutually depend
ent parts. Says Janet : —
" Laplace perceived that the simplest laws are the most likely to be
true. But I do not see why it should be so on the supposition of an
absolutely blind cause ; for, after all, the inconceivable swiftness which
the system of Ptolemy supposed has nothing physically impossible in
it, and the complication of movements has nothing incompatible with
the idea of a mechanical cause. Why, then, do we expect to find sim
ple movements in nature, and speed in proportion, except because we in
stinctively attribute a sort of intelligence and choice to the First Cause? "
Janet does not consider the idea of design to be a priori. But
this question, and the whole paragraph which we are quoting,
imply it. He goes on to say : —
" Now, experience justifies this hypothesis ; at least it did so with
Copernicus and Galileo. It did so, according to Laplace, in the debate
between Clairaut and BufFon ; the latter maintaining against the former
that the law of attraction remained the same at all distances. ' This
time,1 says Laplace, ; the metaphysician was right as against the geome
trician.'1"1
Teleology is evident in the structure of plants as truly as in the
structure of animals. The development and growth, the forms
and colors, the habits, of plants presuppose and reveal the
idea which is directive of the energy operative in their produc
tion. Energy is not a substance. It is power dependent on
guidance. The energy through which the tree, in defiance of
inanimate forces, like gravitation, rises in the air, clothes itself
in foliage and bears its proper fruit, until the antagonistic elements
win the victory, and it yields to the verdict, " earth to earth,"
carries out an idea inseparable from it. " However we resolve the
problem as to the connection of mind and matter, it is unques
tionably a simplification to infer that wherever a material system
is organized for self-maintenance, growth, and reproduction, as an
individual in touch with an environment, that system has a psy
chical as well as a material aspect." ^ The supposition of an inher-
1 Final Causes, p. 168.
2 Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism, vol. i. p. 285. See, also, the context
of this remark.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 37
ent "mind-stuff" is self-contradictory and absurd, but not more
absurd than the supposition of a mindless energy.
When the root of a tree is observed to strike a path through
the sand in quest of moisture, the rustic gardener has been known
to express his recognition of design and of an inward stimulus by
saying that "the root sees what it needs." In the inorganic
realm, teleology is less striking, and may not be in a form to
excite attention. So the question as to mechanical causes may
fail to suggest itself to the casual observer. But to the en
lightened student, to the mineralogist, the geologist, the chemist,
the manifestation of controlling ideas or ends is not thus obscure.1
There are "sermons in stones." In the structure of the globe
are revealed an historic rise and a progress from step to step.2
The evidences of controlling intelligence are peculiarly impres
sive in the organic kingdom. The very idea of an organism is
that every part is at once means and end. Naturalists, whatever
their opinion about final causes, cannot describe plants and ani
mals without perpetually using language which implies intention
as disclosed in their structure. " Biological facts cannot be known
at all except in relation to some teleological conception." 3 The
" provisions" of nature, the " purpose " of an organ, the " posses
sion " of a part, " in order that " something may be done or averted,
— such phraseology is not only common, it is well-nigh unavoid
able. The very word " function " means the appropriate action
or assigned part. No writer uses the language of teleology more
spontaneously and abundantly than Darwin. Huxley speaks of
" every part " of an organism " becoming gradually and slowly
fashioned, as if there were an artificer at work in each of these
complex structures." " Step by step," he tells us, " naturalists
have come to the idea of a unity of plan, or conformity of con
struction, among animals which appeared at first sight to be ex
tremely dissimilar." 4
It is when we consider the human body in its relation to the
mind, that the most vivid perception of design is awakened. To
1 Striking illustrations of " God's plan " are presented in the Lectures on
Religion and Chemistry by Prof. J. P. Cooke (1864). It is shown what
mighty forces, so to speak, are leashed, as it were, in the atmosphere and its
elements.
- For proofs of design in Beauty, see Newman Smyth's Through Science to
Failh, ch. vii. 3 Ladd, Theory of Reality, p. 379.
4 Huxley, Collected Essays, vol. ii. pp. 319, 325.
38 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
one not fettered to the opinion that the mind is itself the product
of organization, and every purpose which the mind forms a phe
nomenon of matter — a phenomenon as necessary in its origin as
the motion of the lungs — that is, to every one who is conscious
of being able to initiate action, the adaptation of his bodily organs
to the service of his intelligence is obvious and striking. The
hand bears more clearly marks of being designed, than the tools
which the hand makes. The eye displays contrivance more im
pressively than the optical instruments which man can contrive
and fashion for the eye to use. I distinguish myself from the eye,
and from my body of which the eye is a part; and I know that
the eye was made for me to see with. The end of its existence
is apparent. It is what the word " eye " signifies. When we con
sider the adaptation of the sexes to one another, the physical and
moral arrangements of Nature which result in the family, in the
production and rearing of offspring ; and when we contemplate
the relation of the family to the state and the relation of the fam
ily and the state to the kingdom of God, where the ideas and
affections developed in the family and in the state connect them
selves with higher objects, the evidences of a preconceived plan
seem irresistible.
It is objected that in all the works of man the efficient cause is
distinct and separate from the object in which the end is realized.
In Nature, we are told, the efficient cause operates from within,
and appears to work out the end without conscious purpose. The
forces of Nature, it is alleged, appear to produce the order and vari
ety and beauty which we behold, of themselves, through no exter
nal compulsion, and at the same time without consciousness. In
an organism the structure grows up, repairs itself, and perpetuates
itself by reproduction; but, it is averred, the active force by
which these ends are fulfilled is not in the least aware of what it is
doing. Thus, it is contended, the analogy fails between the arti
ficial products of human ingenuity and the works of Nature. It is
a blind intelligence, it is said, performing works resembling those
which man does, often less perfectly, with conscious design. With
out here subjecting to scrutiny this supposition of multiple unin
telligent forces in Nature, it is still indisputable that, if matter
is " blind," incapable of foreseeing the end to be attained,
and of selecting appropriate means, it is necessary to connect it
with the operation of an intelligent author and his present agency.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 39
The accurate mathematics of the planetary bodies, the unerring
path of the birds, the geometry of the bee, the seed-corn sending
upward the blossoming and fruit-bearing stalk, excite a wonder, the
secret of which is the evident inadequacy of any "blind " power
to effect these marvels of intelligence and foresight.
A popular objection to the argument of design imputes to it the
fallacy of confounding use with forethought or intention. Is not
the eye for seeing ? Yes, it is answered, that is its use or function ;
but this is not to say that it was planned for this use or function,
for, when you affirm design, you go back to a mental act. The
rejoinder is, that we are driven back to such a mental act, and
thus to a designing intelligence. The relation of the constitution
of the organ to the use irresistibly prompts the inference. The
inference is no arbitrary fancy. Design is brought home to us,
just as the relation of the structure of a telescope to its use would
of itself compel us to attribute it to a contriving intelligence.
It is objected to the argument of design that what are styled
adaptations are nothing but " the conditions of existence " of
objects in nature. These conditions being what they are, the
various objects in which design is supposed to be shown could not
be different from what they are. For example, the bird is said
to be adapted to the air through which it flies, and, it is said,
could not exist but for the air in which its wings are moved.
The objection is equivalent to an attempt to explain the objects
of nature by mechanical agencies and conditions. If the existence
of the bird were traceable to primitive atoms, it would follow that
these are purposeful.
In truth we find use so related to structure that the thought of
design springs up unbidden.
By clear-sighted naturalists who give large room for the potential
ity of protoplasm and its plasticity under the conditions of environ
ment, design is recognized as the means to a preconceived end.
Function or future use is seen to be the formative idea which
specializes organs, and determines structure. An acute naturalist
thus writes upon sexual differences, one of the most impressive
illustrations of design : —
" Instead of thus eliminating by degrees every trace of finality in sex
uality, till we merge into merely mechanical results, is it not just as log
ical to say that the sexuality of mammalia and flowering plants was
potentially visible in the conjugation of uionera and plasuwdia ? and
40 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
that the ( sexual idea ' has reigned throughout, function ever dominating
structure, till the latter had conformed to the more complete function by
becoming specialized more and more? Or, in the words of Janet, < The
agreement of several phenomena, bound together with a future determi
nate phenomenon, supposes a cause in which that future phenomenon is
ideally represented ; and the probability of the presumption increases
with the complexity of the concordant phenomena and the number of
relations which unite them to the final phenomena.'1 " 1
The writer last named also observes : —
" Finality is certainly not destroyed, whether we believe organs to
have been developed by evolution, or to have been created in some an
alogous manner to the fabrication of a steam-engine by man. For my
own part, I still hold to the theory that uses cause adaptations, on the
principle that function precedes structure. Thus as a graminivorous
animal has its food already (so to say) cut up into slices in grass-blades,
it does not require scissors to reduce it to small pieces in order to make
a convenient mouthful. But a carnivorous animal has a large lump of
flesh in the shape of a carcass. It requires to cut it up. The action of
biting, in order to do this previous to masticating, has converted its
teeth into scissor-like carnassials ; and, as it can no longer masticate, it
bolts the pieces whole. So, too, man would never have thought of mak
ing scissors, unless he had had something that he wanted to cut up.
The parallel is complete; only in the one case it is spontaneously ef
fected by the plasticity and adaptability of living matter, and in the other
case it is artificially produced by the consciousness and skill of man.11 2
To revert once more to the human eye : it is an instrument em
ployed by a rational being for a purpose, as he employs a telescope
or a microscope. When we see how the eye is fitted to its use, we
cannot resist the impression that it was intended for it. The idea
of the organ we discern. As Whewell well puts it : " We have in our
minds the idea of a final cause, and when we behold the eye, we
see our idea exemplified. This idea then governed the construc
tion of the eye, be its mechanical causes, the operative agencies
that produced it what they may." " Nothing," says an able
writer, " has been proved against final causes when organic effects
have been reduced to their proximate causes and to their deter
mining conditions. It will be said, for instance, that it is not
wonderful that the heart contracts, since it is a muscle, and con-
1 Janet, Final Causes, p. 55. "Final Causes," by Mr. George Henslow, in
Modern Review, January, 1881.
2 Modern Review, loc. cit., p. 66.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 41
tractility is an essential property of muscles. But is it not evident
that if nature wished to make a heart that contracts, it behooved to
employ for this a contractile tissue, and would it not be very aston
ishing were it otherwise ? Have we thereby explained the wonder
ful structure of the heart and the skilful mechanism shown in it?
Muscular contractility explains the contraction of the heart ; but
this general property, which is common to all muscles, does not
suffice to explain how or why the heart contracts in one way
rather than another, why it has taken such a form and not such
another. ' The peculiarity presented by the heart,' says M. Cl.
Bernard, ' is that the muscular fibres are arranged in it so as to
form a sort of bag, within which is found the liquid blood. The
contraction of these fibres causes a diminution of the size of this
bag, and consequently an expulsion, at least in part, of the liquid
it contains. The arrangement of the valves gives to the expelled
liquid the suitable direction.' Now the precise question which ;
here occupies the thinker is, how it happens that Nature, employ
ing a contractile tissue, has given it the suitable structure and
arrangement, and how it rendered it fit for the special and capital
function of the circulation."
" The elementary properties of the tissues are the necessary conditions
of which Nature makes use to solve the problem, but they in no way
explain how it has succeeded in solving it. Moreover, M. Cl. Bernard
[a learned physiologist] does not decline the inevitable comparison
of the organism with the works of human industry, and even often
recurs to it, as, for instance, when he says ; ' the heart is essentially a
living motor machine, •& force-pump destined to send into all the organs a
liquid to nourish them. ... At all degrees of the animal scale, the
heart fulfils this function of mechanical irrigation." . . . 'We may
compare,' he says, ' the histological elements to the materials man
employs to raise a monument. ... No doubt, in order that a house
may exist, the stones composing it must have the property of gravita
tion ; but does this property explain how the stones form a house ? ' '' 1
It might be said of a locomotive that — the boiler of iron, with A
its capacity to hold water, being present, and the water being in it,
and fire beneath it, and a chimney above for the smoke to escape,
and pipes through which steam can pass connected with the boiler
and wheels beneath on which the locomotive can roll — it is suffi
ciently explained. But the combination of these parts, in their
1 Janet, Final Causes, pp. 129—131.
42 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
peculiar forms, and relation of the whole to that which the loco
motive does, are things which the foregoing statement altogether
fails to account for.
Kant has two criticisms on the argument of design. The first
is, that it can go no farther than to prove an architect or framer of
the world, not a creator of matter. But the special aim of the
argument is to prove that the First Cause is intelligent. We
will suppose for the moment that matter is such an entity as the
criticism implies. The conclusion that the author of the wonder
ful order which is wrought in and through matter is also the
author of matter itself still appears probable. For how can the
properties of matter through which it is adapted to the use of
being moulded by intelligence, be separated from matter itself ?
What is matter divorced from its properties ? We cannot under
stand creation, because we cannot create. The nearest approach
to creative activity is in the production of good and evil by our
own voluntary action. How God creates is a mystery which can
not be fathomed, at least until we know better what matter is.
Philosophers of high repute so far favor hypotheses akin to the
Berkeleian, as to dispense with a substratum of matter, and to as
cribe the percepts of sense to the continuous action of the will of
the Almighty. Whatever matter may be in its essence, we know
that there is an ultimate, unconditioned cause. We know that this
cause is intelligent and free. To suppose that by the side of the
eternal Spirit there is another eternal and self-existent being,
the raw matter of the world, " without form and void," involves
the absurdity of two Absolutes limiting each other.
The second difficulty raised by Kant is, that the existence of a
strictly infinite being cannot be demonstrated from a finite creation,
however extensive or wondrous. All that can be inferred demon
stratively is inconceivably vast power and wisdom. The validity
of this objection may be conceded. The infinitude of the attri
butes of God is involved in the intuition of an unconditioned
being, — the being glimpses of whose attributes are disclosed to
us in the order of the finite world.
These objections of Kant are in the Critique of Pure Reason.
Elsewhere he brings forward an additional consideration. Admit
ting that the idea of design is essential to our comprehension of
the world, he raises the point that it may be subjective only, regu
lative of our perceptions, but not objective or " constitutive.'1
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 43
Not regarding the idea of design as a priori, like the idea of
causation, he inquires whether it may not be a mere supposition, a
working hypothesis, which a deeper penetration of Nature might
dispense with. It is a sufficient answer to this scepticism that the
thought of design is not artificially originated by ourselves ; it is a
conviction which the objects of Nature themselves " imperiously "
suggest and bring home to us. As Janet and other critics of Kant
have pointed out, there are two classes of hypotheses. Of one
class it is true that they are regarded as corresponding with the
true nature of things ; of the other, that they are only a convenient
means for the mind to conceive them. The question is, whether
an hypothesis is warranted by the facts, and is perceived veritably
to represent Nature. In the proportion in which it does this, its
verity acquires fresh corroboration. Of this character is the
hypothesis of design.
We infer the existence of an intelligent Deity, as we infer the
existence of intelligence in our fellow-men, and on grounds not
less reasonable.
"We are spirits clad in veils,
Man by man was never seen ;
All our deep communing fails
To remove the shadowy screen."
My senses take no cognizance of the minds of other men. I per
ceive certain motions of their bodies. I hear certain sounds
proceeding from their lips. What right have I, from these purely
physical phenomena, to infer the presence of an intelligence
behind them? WThat proof is there of the consciousness in the
friend at my side ? How can I be assured that he is not a mere
automaton, totally unconscious of its own movements ? The war
rant for the contrary inference lies in the fact, that being possessed
of consciousness, and acquainted with its effects in myself, I regard
like effects as evidence of the same principle in others. But in this
inference I transcend the limits of sense and physical experiment.
In truth, in admitting the reality of consciousness in myself, I take
a step which no physical observation can justify. Were the brain
opened to view, no microscope, were its power immeasurably aug
mented, could discover the least trace of it.
The alternative of design is chance. The Epicurean theory, as
expounded by the Roman poet Lucretius, made the world the re-
44 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
suit of the fortuitous concourse of atoms, which in their motions
and concussions, at length fell into the orderly forms in which
they abide.1 The term " chance " does not denote the absence of
cause — which would be an absurd supposition. The terms
"chance " and " accident" are applied to events undesigned and
unforeseen.
We use these words to denote an occurrence, or an object the
particular cause of which is not detected, and which bears in it
evident marks of forethought. I drop a handful of coins on the
floor. They fly in different directions, and the directions in which
they fly, we say, are due to chance. On the theory which we are
considering, the world is accounted for as the final result of what
is equivalent to an almost infinite succession of throws of dice.
This cannot be said to be literally impossible, as it is not literally
impossible that a font of types thrown into the air should come
down in the form of Homer's Iliad. It is, however, so unlikely
an occurrence as to be next to impossible. Imagine time to be
given for the repetition of the experiment billions of times — the
unlikelihood of the issue is not perceptibly diminished. Cicero,
commenting on this theory of the Epicureans, after speaking of
the vast orderly system of things beheld above us and around us,
exclaims : " Is it possible for any man to behold these things, and
yet imagine that certain solid and individual bodies move by their
natural force and gravitation, and that a world so beautifully adorned
was made by their fortuitous concourse? He who believes this
may as well believe that if a great quantity of the one-and-twenty
letters — " the number of the letters in the Roman alphabet —
" composed of gold or of any other matter, were thrown upon the
ground, they would fall into such order as legibly to form the
Annals of Ennius. ... If a concourse of atoms can make a
world, why not a porch, a temple, a house, a city, which are
works of less labor and difficulty?"2 But assume that the order
of the universe is possible. The question is not whether it is pos
sible, but whether it is possible without an intelligent cause. The
Strasburg Minster is possible, but not possible without an archi
tect and builder.
If we accept the Lucretian hypothesis of the origin of the mate
rial universe, as we behold it, from the movements of atoms after
countless myriads of chaotic combinations, we do not get rid of
1 De Rerwn Natura, i. 1021-1028. "-De Nat. Deorum, ii. 37.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 45
the proof of design. Why did the multitudinous atoms fail to
combine in an orderly and stable way up to the moment when the
existing cosmos was reached ? Manifestly they must have been,
in their constitution and mutual relations, adapted to constitute
the present structure of things, and no other. The present
system was anticipated in the very make of the atoms, the constit
uent elements of the universe. The atoms, then, present the same
evidences of design which the outcome of their revolutions presents.
We might be at a loss to explain why the Author of Nature chose
this circuitous way to the goal ; but that the goal was in view from
the beginning is evident. The difficulty of getting rid of the evi
dence of final cause is illustrated in the circumstance that Haeckel
actually attributes to atoms desire and aversion, or a soul both sen
tient and volitional ! l
The doctrine of evolution plays so conspicuous a part in the
later discussions of Theism, that, at the risk of some repetition, it
is worth while to examine critically its bearing on teleology. This
doctrine undertakes to explain the diversity of animal species
without resort to special acts of creation. As propounded by
Darwin, it refers the origin of species to descent from a few pro
genitors, the origin of whom, in his work on this subject, he ab
stains from discussing. Some would extend evolutionary theory
so far as to make life itself a development from inorganic forms,
a view which thus far lacks support from scientific observation or
experiment. In its widest extension, the network of evolutionary
production is stretched over all things, living and lifeless, as far
back as a nebulous vapor. Of those who believe in a genetic con
nection of animal organisms, some hold to " heterogenetic gen
eration," the production of new species by leaps, or by the
metamorphosis of germs. Darwin's theory is that of unbroken
development through minute variations. The law of heredity,
under which like produces like, does not exclude in offspring
slight variations without number. Darwin conceded that some
inheritable variations might be produced by the conditions of the
environment, but he maintained that, were variations perfectly
indefinite in direction, his explanation of the origin of species
would be tenable. The three causes in operation are the ten-
1 See the passage, with comments, in J. Martineau, Types of Ethical Theory ',
vol. ii. B. ii. Br. i. § 6, 2d ed. p. 399; also his Study of Religion, vol. i. p. 202,
46 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
dency of offspring to reproduce the forms of immediate or more
or less remote ancestors, which Huxley denominates Atavism, the
check on this tendency by a certain tendency to variation, and an
influence from external conditions, such, for example, as climate.1
Among innumerable variations in structure, some are of such a
nature as to give an advantage in the struggle for food and, gen
erally speaking, in the struggle for existence. There ensues — in
the phrase suggested by Spencer — "the survival of the fittest."
As the effect of mating and propagation, these profitable varia
tions grow, thereby imparting increased power, and lines of de
marcation are created and perpetuated. Thus, in inconceivably
long periods, definite and stable species arise. The process is
called "natural selection," being analogous to the course pur
sued in artificial breeding. The final effect of this kind of snail-
like advance through countless millenniums appears at last in the
production of the human species. Another agency besides that
of the struggle for existence, that of sexual preference, is a factor
in working out the actual results of natural selection.
The Darwinian doctrine, properly defined, lends additional
strength to the argument of design. It brings before us a com
prehensive system, which advances from the lowest forms of ani
mal life until the terminus is reached in man. To quote the words
of an eminent physiologist, Dr. W. B. Carpenter : —
"The evidence of final causes is not impaired. 'We simply,' to use
the language of Whewell, l transfer the notion of design and end from
the region of facts to that of laws ; ' that is, from the particular cases
to the general plan. In this general plan the production of man is
comprehended."
At the same time, evolutionary theory does not annul the evi
dence of adaptation in particular instances — in the eye, for ex
ample — when regarded in its place and function in the human
body, as the organ of vision. This function is so clear and unde
niable that, whatever opinion may be held of the nature of per
ception as a mental act, to withstand the proof of intention in
the structure of this organ of vision is well-nigh impossible.
Had Paley claimed for the principle of design an a priori basis
and a universal application, it would have been well. Critics of
Paley, however, seem often to forget that he devotes a whole
1 Huxley, Collected Essays, vol. ii. pp. 397-403.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 47
chapter (ch. ii.) to maintaining his ground on the supposition
that the watch had the property of producing in the course of its
movement another watch like itself. But the countless particular
instances in Nature, when seen in their connection and place in the
entire system, give to the proof of foresight and plan a redoubled
force. Besides the single pillar, however exquisitely carved, we
behold its relation to the vast edifice in which it has a fitting place.
The system of animate beings has been likened to the cathedral of
St. Mark, which owes its greatness " to the patient hands of cen
turies and centuries of workers," and is built up from materials
drawn from every quarter of the globe. After this analogy, the
lower forms of animal life have contributed to the upbuilding of
the human body. Even foreshadowings of mind antedate that
stage of being wherein man, with his introspective vision and gift
of language, is differentiated from the animal species beneath him.
But man, erect in form, with reason enabling him to comprehend
Nature, to know himself and the world of which he is a part, and
with conscience and the capacity of religion — man is the goal to
which Nature from the outset points. Now, when man appears,
an end is put to the gradations of physical development. There
is " an arrest of the body " ; for by means of his intelligence man
fashions tools and instruments of every sort which enable him to
do without additional and more complex physical organs. He
can interchange thoughts with his fellows. He dominates the
forces of material Nature. Henceforth, evolution is psychical. It
is the story of the rise and of the stages in the progress of
human civilization. The prolonging of the period of helpless in
fancy is an essential condition of the evolution of motherhood.
The permanent relation of husband and wife is dependent on
physical characteristics which do not belong to the lower types of
animal life. The being of the family, with the ties of affection
developed within it, as well as the possibility of handing down a
fund of knowledge to increase from generation to generation, are
consequent on the birth of humanity with its distinctive peculiari
ties. These were foreshadowed before, but never brought into
being. A loftier stimulus than the struggle for existence — namely,
altruism, a benevolent interest in others, and the spirit of self-sacri
fice for their sake — sets bounds to self-love.1
1 For a more full statement of these particular features in the course of
Evolution, see Drummond, rfhe Ascent of Man, especially chs. iii. vii.
48 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
As to the agencies instrumental in building up the system of
nature, it is plain that, in the first place, the origin of each requires
to be explained ; in the second place, that their concurrence re
quires to be accounted for ; and, in the third place, that neither
separately considered nor taken in combination — regarded as
blind, unintelligent forces — do they avail in the least to explain
the order and adaptation of Nature which result from them. Why
do living beings engender offspring like themselves? Why do
the offspring slightly vary from the parents and from one another ?
How account for the desire of food ? How explain the disposi
tion to struggle to obtain it ? Why is beauty preferred, leading to
"sexual selection"? How is it that these laws coexist and co
operate? We see that they issue, according to the Darwinian view,
in a grand result, a system of living beings. They are actually
means to an intelligible end. They appear to exist, to be ordained
and established, with reference to it. There is a " survival of the
fittest." Who are the "fittest" except those who have been
fitted to a given end? But how were "the fittest" produced?
Natural selection merely weeds out and destroys the products
which are not the fittest. It produces nothing. But it operates,
in conjunction with the force described as " heredity," which
includes " variability," to work out an order of things which
plainly shows itself to have been preconceived. The selection, as
far as it is positive, is dictated by stimuli within the organism.
The fallacy of excluding design or final causes where it is possible
to trace out efficient or instrumental causes would be astonishing
if it were not so frequently met with.
There is nothing in gradualness of development to disprove
teleology. The progress of a pedestrian to a place a mile distant,
by steps an inch long, presupposes volition and purpose as truly
as if he had reached the place at a single bound. So it is with the
continuity ascribed to Nature by the evolutionist. It were to be
wished that all naturalists were as discriminating as Professor
Owen, who says : —
" Natural evolution by means of slow physical and organic operations
through long ages is not the less clearly recognizable as the act of all-
adaptive mind, because we have abandoned the old error of supposing
it to be the result of a primary, direct, and sudden act of creational con
struction. . . . The succession of species by continuously operating
law is not necessarily a * blind operation.' Such law, however discerned
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 49
in the properties of natural objects, intimates, nevertheless, a precon
ceived progress. Organisms may be evolved in orderly manner, stage
after stage, towards a foreseen goal, and the broad features of the course
may still show the unmistakable impress of divine volition." 1
Evolution has to do with the how, and not the why, of phenom
ena. Evolution is a method, not an agent. Hence the evolution
ist is powerless against the teleological argument. This is true of
the theory of evolution in the widest stretch that the boldest
speculation has given it. This is conceded, even if not consis
tently, by its considerate advocates. This harmony of evolution
with design is not denied by Huxley : —
"The teleological and the mechanical views of nature are not neces
sarily mutually exclusive. On the contrary, the more purely a mechan
ist the speculator is, the more firmly does he affirm primordial nebular
arrangement, of which all the phenomena of the universe are conse
quences, the more completely is he thereby at the mercy of the teleolo-
gist, who can always defy him to disprove that this primordial nebular
arrangement was not intended to evolve the phenomena of the uni
verse." 2
This intention is recognized in the outcome as related to the
concurrent agencies leading to it, as well as in the constitution
of these primordial agencies, — recognized by the same faculty of
reason through which we are made capable of tracing phenomena
to their physical causes. The antecedent idea is throughout
controlling.
Darwin himself was often impressed by the marks of design in
the development of animal life, but he confessed to a perplexity
and consequent scepticism on this point from the circumstance that
the phenomena of variation seemed to him to be due to "chance."
" This," as he explained later, " is a wholly incorrect expression,
which simply indicates an ignorance of the cause of each particu
lar variation." 3 He was puzzled by what he conceived to be the fact
that variability shows nothing like adaptation to the prospective
function of natural selection. Variability appeared to him to be,
1 Transactions of the Geological Society, vol. v. p. 90, quoted by Mivart,
The Genesis of Species, p. 274.
2 Huxley, Critiques, p. 307. For other passages from Huxley, one in a less
philosophical spirit, see Appendix, Note 2.
3 Origin of Species, vol. i. p. 137, vol. ii. p. 431.
E
50 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
figuratively speaking, haphazard. The materials for natural selec
tion to do its work with, he compared to the numerous fragments
of stone, of all shapes and sizes, which might be produced by the
breaking up of a precipice by natural forces, including storm and
earthquake. The builder picks out from the chaotic heap such
fragments as he can work into the structure of his edifice. Hence
to Darwin there seemed to be an antinomy, an irreconcilable con
tradiction l — like what he conceived to exist between free-will and
foreknowledge. He has no thought of denying that there are laws
of variation. " Our ignorance," he says, " of the laws of variation
is profound." s But what they are, what the causes of variation
in plants and animals are, is a problem which he left unsolved.3
"Darwin," says Huxley, " left the causes of variation, and whether
it is limited or directed by extended conditions, perfectly open. But
in the immediate consequences of variability, he could not perceive
marks of design, but rather the opposite. In other words, he missed
a link in the process of rational development ; there seemed to be
a vacancy — a place where foresight and plan are suspended, and
control is left to chance." 4 Be this as it may, the organism and
the conditions in which it lives, work out a result which exhibits clearly
^Animals and Plants under Domestication, vol. ii. p. 428.
2 The impressions of Darwin are avowed with his wonted candor, especially
in his correspondence with Asa Gray. Darwin's letters are in vol. ii. of The
Life of Darwin. He speaks of" undesigned variability " (ii. 165), from which
no definite results would follow. " I am conscious," he writes, " that I am
in an utterly hopeless muddle. I cannot think that the world as we see it, is
the result of chance, and yet I cannot look upon each separate thing as the
result of Design" (ii. 146). He writes in an earlier letter: "I am inclined to
look at everything as resulting from designed laws, with the details, whether
good or bad, left to the working out of what we may call chance. Not that
this at all satisfies me" (ii. 105). He would have no doubt of design if he
could "thoroughly" believe that there is any other "imponderable force" of
which life and mind are the "function"; that is to say, if he could believe
that there is a designer — distinct from mechanical forces active in natural
selection — for the designing of things to be assigned to (ii. 170). But "the
forces active in natural selection," that is, in living organisms and their envi
ronment, collectively taken, issue in the distinct species of animal and vege
table life. In this product a rationality is to be discerned which implies that
intention is involved in the existence and activity of the agencies, collectively
taken, on which it depends. 3 See, respecting Darwin's views, Appendix, Note 3.
4 Huxley* s Life and Letters, vol. ii. p. 205 ; also, his article on " Mr. Darwin's
Critics," Collected Essays, vol. ii. p. 120. For the advance of the theory of
evolution, he says, the great need is a theory of variation. Ibid., p. 182.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 51
a designing agent. There is no room for denial that, as Mr. Sully
expresses it, " every doctrine of evolution must assume some defi
nite initial arrangement which is supposed to contain the possibili
ties of the order which we find to be evolved, and no other
possibility. This undeniable truth subverts every hypothesis
which would substitute chance for design."
But there is too much dissent from the supposition of limitless
variability to reason upon it as a basis for scientific argument.
Out of variations, says one critic, there must appear individual
peculiarities adapted to give success in the struggle for existence.
Then, in " this ocean of fluctuation and metaphorphosis," variations
coinciding with these must appear, from generation to generation, to
join on to them and to build up a highly organized species. The series
of chances required to be overcome is infinite. If this were not the
fact, the physiologist, Dr. W. B. Carpenter argues, the chances to be
overcome in building up an organized species are infinite. " On the
hypothesis of l natural selection ' among aimless variations," says Dr.
Carpenter, " I think that it could be shown that the probability is
infinitely small that the progressive modifications required in the
structure of each individual organ to convert a reptile into a bird could
have taken place without disturbing the required harmony in their
combined action ; nothing but intentional variations being competent
to bring such a result." The proof of this prearrangement is furnished
" by the orderly sequence of variations following definite lines of ad
vance. It would be necessary to presuppose a miracle of luck. There
is not, as in artificial breeding, a seclusion of favored offspring from
their kin. Moreover, mere selection on the basis of aimless variability
will not account for organs and members, which, however useful when
fully grown, in their beginnings do not help, and may hinder the
animal in its struggle for existence. From the geological record, which,
to be sure, is defective, support cannot be drawn for the theory." Profes
sor Huxley himself suggests that " further inquiries may prove that vari
ability is definite, and is determined in certain directions rather than
others. It is quite conceivable that every species tends to produce
varieties of a limited number and kind, and that the effect of natural
selection is to favor the development of some of these, while it opposes
the development of others, along their predetermined lines of modifica
tion." l The response of the organism to exterior influences is deter
mined by impulses within itself. This is the teaching of eminent
naturalists, such as Owen and Virchow. Dana held that variation
is limited by " fundamental laws." Gray, an able advocate of Darwin's
general theory, teaches that " variations " — in other words, "the
1 Encycl. Brit., vol. viii. p. 751, art. "Evolution."
52 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
differences between plants and animals — are evidently not from
without, but from within ; not physical, but physiological." The
occult power " does not act vaguely, producing all sorts of variations
from a common centre/' etc. "The facts, so far as I can judge, do not
support the assumption of every-sided and indifferent variation. Vari
ation is somehow and somewhere introduced in the transit from parent
to offspring. ... It is generally agreed that the variation is from
within, is an internal response to external impressions. All that we
can possibly know of the nature of the inherent tendency to vary must
be gathered from the facts of the response. And these, I judge, are not
such as to require or support the assumption of a tendency to wholly
vague and all-directioned variation.1' l He affirms, that " as species do
not now vary at all times and places, and in all directions, nor produce
crude, vague, imperfect, and useless forms, there is no reason for sup
posing that they ever did."- The philosopher Von Hartmann in
geniously compares natural selection to the bolt and coupling in a
machine, but affirms that " the driving principle," which called new
species into existence, lay or originated in the organisms.3 Darwin, in
his Descent of Man, frankly allowed that he has exaggerated natural,
selection as a cause, since it fails to account for structures which are
neither beneficial nor injurious. Here, as in regard to the correlation
of parts and organs, or " sympathetic " variation, he falls back on mystery.
The fact of the sterility of hybrids has no explanation. In both cases,
teleology cannot be dispensed with.
The upshot of the matter is, that there is no occasion for puzzling
over the design of chaotic and purposeless variations, — the stones
of all shapes at the base of the precipice, — until a final verdict of
natural science has been reached. Be the conclusion on this
point what it may, the effects of variation must be considered an
actual link in the series of causes, the outcome of which is an
orderly and beautiful system of organized beings.
Were there such a thing in nature as " aimless variability," the
objection to the theistic argument, suggested by it, would be akin
to the objection sometimes heard "from the waste of life and
material " in organic nature, where the phenomena in question are
familiar. In parts of both the vegetable and animal kingdoms,
1 Natural Science and Religion, p. 50. So stout an advocate of Darwinian
doctrine as Huxley remarks concerning the effect of external conditions, climate,
etc., on variations, " In all probability the influence of this cause has been very
much exaggerated." Collected Essays, vol. ii. p. 182.
2 Darwiniana, pp. 386, 387.
8 See R. Schmid, The Theories of Darwin, etc., p. 107.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 53
we find a redundancy of germs and eggs. Blossoms numberless
bear no fruit. Facts of this sort do not militate against the proof
of design. The only doubt which they could inspire, must relate
to \he perfection of wisdom and skill in the Creator. It might be
answered that the very notion of wastefulness involves the need
less and useless sacrifice of that which is at the same time pos
sessed of value, and provided not without cost of money or labor.
If all the difficulty connected by Darwin with variability existed,
it would be well to bear in mind an observation of Huxley :
"There is a wide gulf between the thing you cannot explain and
the thing that upsets you altogether. There is hardly any hypothe
sis in this world which has not some fact in connection with it,
which has not been explained."1 Gray presents from his own
science of botany illustrations of usefulness in this " waste of life
and material." One of them is afforded by the different means of
dispersing the pollen of flowers.2 Darwin's own writings, one of
which is entitled On the Contrivances in Nature for the Fertiliza
tion of Orchids, are quite helpful in this same direction. The
Darwinian hypothesis, in its essential principle, goes far toward
disposing of the sceptical difficulties of the kind referred to. This
is through what has been denominated " the comprehensive and
far-reaching teleology," by which " organs and even faculties, use
less to the individual, find their explanation and reason of being."
Before closing this discussion, it is expedient to notice briefly a
few not uncommon misconceptions of the argument of design, to
which its advocates as well as dissentients are exposed. A fruitful
error is the failure to perceive that a multitude of things in Nature
which, regarded individually, might be judged to be unwise and
even baneful, are incidental to a system of general laws, the ex
istence of which is in the highest degree expedient. The law of
heredity brings in its train numerous evils, yet it is, on the whole,
an essential benefit.
A conclusion unfavorable to the skill or to the benevolence of
the architect of the world, is frequently based on the absence of
what is deemed an ideal perfection in some part of Nature — it
may be an organ in the human body. Thus a justly distinguished
naturalist, Helmholtz, criticises the structure of the human eye,
contrasting it with certain optical instruments of human invention.
Yet he closes with a statement which is the main point in the
1 Huxley, Collected Essays, vol. ii. p. 466. 2 Darwiniana, pp. 375 seq.
54 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
argument of design : " The adaptation of the eye to its function is,
therefore, most complete, and is seen in the very limits set to its
defects. Here, the result which may be reached by innumerable
generations working under the Darwinian law of inheritance, coin
cides with what the wisest wisdom may have devised beforehand." 1
It has often been taken for granted by theologians, or wrongly
assumed to be their contention, that the world and everything in
it was designed exclusively as a manifestation of the Creator to
the human race. Hence everything not capable of this limited
construction has been looked upon as, to say the least, super
fluous. A lesson of modesty is contained in the familiar lines of
Gray : —
" Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear,
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."
Every gem and every blossom manifests in its very structure a pur
pose, even without reference to the impression it is adapted to
make on human observers. But one of the motives of their
creation may be the self-expression, for its own sake, of the
Author of their being.2 Still further, the partial if not complete hy
pothesis has been virtually sanctioned that everything in the broad
realm of nature was fashioned as an instrument to convey a specific
benefit, larger or smaller, to the race of man, or to a portion of it. It
is one thing to say that in innumerable arrangements the benevo
lence of God is convincingly discovered. But to affirm this of every
being and thing, simply leads to the caricature of the true view. To
call in the idea of a distinct purpose, to account for the creation
of whatever the convenience of man, aided by his ingenuity, may
turn to some use, argues either impiety or ignorance. Especially
presumptuous and misleading is the implied omniscience which
professes to comprehend in full the final end of creation and
providence, and to derive thence an infallible criterion for setting
the right value on whatever is and whatever occurs. Apart from
1 See the comments of J. Martineau, A Stiidy of Religion, vol. ii. B. ii. c. I.
P- 343-
2 Quite apart from peculiar adjuncts in his system, one may recognize truth
in Professor Royce's emphatic words on what he calls the " Philistinism "
" which supposes that Nature has no worthier goal than producing a man.
Perhaps experiences of longer time-span are far higher in rational type than
ours." The World and the Individual, p. 231.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 55
revealed truth, it is clear enough that "we know in part" and
are incompetent otherwise to apprehend
" the one far-off divine event,
To which the whole creation moves.11
It is conceded that the argument of design does not demon
strate the infinitude of God's power and wisdom. It is here that
the ontological argument, or that which is the real gist of it, the
intuition of the Infinite and Absolute, comes in to convert into a
conviction the feeling that is begotten in the mind, in the form
of an immediate suggestion by the inconceivably vast manifesta
tion of these attributes of God in the universe, as far as our human
vision can extend. The unconditioned being is independent of
limitations inseparable from finite beings. The intuition of
unconditioned being involves the infinitude of his natural attri
butes. He is independent of temporal limitations ; that is, he is
eternal. He is independent of spatial limitations ; that is, he is
omnipresent. The categories of space and time cannot be ap
plied to him, — a truth which we can only express by saying that
he is above time and space. His power is infinite ; that is, it
can do everything which is an object of power, and it admits
of no imaginable increase. His knowledge, since final- causes
reveal his personality, is equally without limit.
IV. The moral argument. The righteousness and goodness of
God are evident from conscience. The phenomena, which have
been shown to be the immediate source of faith in God,1 on re
flection are seen to be valid in logic. Right is the supreme, sole
authoritative impulse in the soul. He who planted it there, and
gave it this imperative character, must himself be righteous.
From the testimony of "the vicegerent within the heart" we in
fer " the righteousness of the Sovereign who placed it there."
But what are the contents of the law? What has he bidden
man, by "the law written on the heart," to be and to do? He
has enjoined goodness. When we discover that the precept of
the unwritten law of conscience is love, we have the clearest and
most undeniable evidence that love is the preference of the Law
giver, and that he is love.
The argument from conscience is really a branch of the argu-
i See ch. i.
56 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
ment from final causes. In this inward law there is revealed the
end of our being, — an end not to be realized as if a part of
physical nature, but freely. We are to make ourselves what our
Maker designed us to be. The law is the ideal, the thought of
the Creator, and a spur to its realization. It attests the holiness
of God, as design in the external world reveals His intelligence.
This truth is forcibly expressed by Erskine of Linlathen : "When
I attentively consider what is going on in my conscience, the chief
thing forced on my notice is, that I find myself face to face with
a purpose — not my own, for I am often conscious of resisting it,
but which dominates me, and makes itself felt as ever present, as
the very root and reason of my being." "This consciousness of a
purpose concerning me that I should be a good man — right, true,
and unselfish — is the first firm footing I have in the region of
religious thought ; for I cannot dissociate the idea of a purpose
from that of a purposer ; and I cannot but identify this Purposer
with the Author of my being and the being of all beings, and
further, I cannot but regard his purpose toward me as the unmis
takable indication of his own character." l
Is this conviction, which the very constitution of our being com
pels us to cherish, contradicted by the course of the world?
There is moral evil in the world. But of moral evil, although He
permits it, He is not the author. Nor can this permission be pro
nounced unrighteous or unbenevolent, until it is proved that there are
no incompatibilities between the most beneficent system of created
things, including beings endowed, to the extent with which men
are endowed, with free agency, and the exclusion, by direct power,
of all abuse of that divine gift by which man resembles his Crea
tor. Permission on this ground is not to be confounded with
preference of moral evil to its opposite. If it were made probable
that the bare permission of moral evil, so far as it actually exists
in the world, is inconsistent with infinite power and infinite good
ness, or with both, the result would simply be a contradiction
between the revelation of God in our intuition of unconditioned
being and in our own moral nature, and the disclosure of Him in
the course of the world.2
We are in a world that abounds in -suffering. How shall this
be reconciled with benevolence in the Creator? Much weight
1 The Spiritual Order and Other Papers, pp. 47, 48. 2 See Appendix, Note 4.
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 57
is to be given to the consideration of the effects flowing of neces
sity from a system of general laws, notwithstanding the advantages
of such a system. The suggestions relative to the occasions and
beneficent offices of pain and death, which are presented by such
writers as James Martineau, in his work entitled A Study of Reli
gion, are helpful. Especially is the fact of moral evil to be taken
into the account when a solution is sought for the problem of
physical evil, its concomitant and so often its consequence. Let
it be freely granted, however, that no explanations that man can
devise avail to clear up altogether the mystery of evil. It is only
a small part of the system of things that falls under our observa
tion in the present stage of our being. It is not by an inductive
argument, by showing a preponderance of good over evil in the
arrangements of nature, that the mind is set at rest. There is no
need of an argument of this kind. There is need of faith, but
that faith is rational. We find, as we have pointed out, in our
own moral constitution a direct and full attestation of the good
ness of God. Our moral constitution is affirmed, by a class of
evolutionists, to be a gradual growth from a foundation of animal
instincts. Let this speculation go for what it may be worth. The
same theory is advanced respecting the human intellect. Yet the
intellect is assumed to be an organ of knowledge. There is no
avoiding this conclusion, else all science, evolutionary science in
cluded, is a castle in the air. If the intellect is entitled to trust,
so equally is the moral nature. Are the righteousness and good
ness of God called in question on the ground of perplexing facts
observed in the structure and course of the world? Where do
we get the qualifications for raising such inquiries or rendering an
answer to them ? It must be from ideals of character which we
find within ourselves, and from the supreme place accorded to
the moral law which is written on the heart. But whence come
these moral ideals? Who enthroned the law of righteousness in
the heart? Who inscribed on the tablets of the soul the assertion
of the inviolable authority of right and the absolute worth of love
as a motive of action ? In a word, our moral constitution is itself
given us of God, and if it be not the reflection of His character, it
is, for aught we can say, a false light ; in which case all the ver
dicts resting upon it, with all the queries of scepticism as to the
goodness of God, may be illusive. The arraignment of the char
acter of God on the ground of alleged imperfections in nature or
58 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
of seemingly harsh or unjust occurrences in the course of events,
is therefore suicidal. The revelation of God's character is in our
moral constitution. The voice within us, which is uttered in the
sacred impulse of duty and in the law of love, is His voice. There
we learn what He approves, what He requires, what He rewards.
When this proposition is denied, we lose our footing ; we cut
away the ground for trust in our own capacity for moral criticism.
Man has not one originating cause and the world another.
The existence and supreme authority of conscience imply that in
the on-going of the world righteousness holds sway. If there is
a moral purpose underlying the course of things, then a righteous
Being is at the helm. What confusion worse than chaos in the
idea that while man himself is bound to be actuated by a moral
purpose, the universe in which he is to act his part exists for no
moral end, and that through the course of things no moral pur
pose runs !
Even Kant, who bases our conviction as to the fundamental
truths of religion on moral grounds, and asserts for it, not a strictly
logical, but a moral, certainty, nevertheless declares this convic
tion to be inevitable where there exist right moral dispositions.
"The only caution to be observed," he says, "is that this faith of
the intellect ( Vernunftglaube] is founded on the assumption of
moral tempers." If one were utterly indifferent to moral laws,
even then the conclusion " would still be supported indeed by
strong arguments from analogy, but not by such as an obstinate
sceptical bent might not overcome."
It is not my object in these remarks to draw out in full the
proofs of the existence and the moral attributes of God. It is
rather to illustrate the relation in which these proofs stand to
those perceptions, inchoate and spontaneous in the experiences
of the soul, which are the ultimate subjective source of religion,
and on which the living appreciation of the revelation of God in
external nature is contingent. Let it be observed, moreover, that
these native spiritual experiences of dependence, of obligation
and accountableness, of hunger for fellowship with the Infinite
One, wherein religion takes its rise and has its root, are them
selves to be counted as proofs of the reality of the object implied
in them. They are significant of the end for which man was
made. They presuppose God.
It is true that all our knowledge rests ultimately on an act of
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 59
faith which finds no warrant in any process of reasoning. We
cannot climb to this trust on the steps of a syllogism. We are
obliged to start with a confidence in the veracity of our intellec
tual faculties ; and this we have to assume persistently in the
whole work of acquiring knowledge. Without this assumption we
can no more infer anything or know anything than a bird can fly
in a vacuum. All science reposes on this faith in our own minds,
which implies and includes faith in the Author of the mind. This
primitive faith in ourselves is moral in its nature. So of all that
truth which is justly called self-evident. No arguments are to be
adduced for it. In every process of reasoning it is presupposed.
We can prove nothing except on the basis of propositions that
admit of no proof. But if we leave out of account the domain of
self-evident truth, which is ground common to both religion and
science, religious beliefs, as far as they are sound, are based on
adequate evidence.
V. The historical argument. The philosophy of history is
synonymous with the unveiling of the plan revealed in the course
of human affairs. The discovery of this plan is the chief motive
in the study of history, without which it would have, as it has been
truly said, little more interest than the record of the battles of
crows and daws. Divine providence is discerned in the fact that
— "through the ages one increasing purpose runs."
Hegel presents us with profound observations on the philosophy of
history, notwithstanding the alloy of a priori speculation mingled
with them. The thought that reason is the " sovereign of the
world," he tells us, is the hypothesis in the domain of history
which it verifies. Hegel shares in the approval given by Socrates
to the remark of Anaxagoras that reason or intelligence governs
the world, and quotes the saying of Aristotle that in this saying
Anaxagoras " appeared as a sober man among the drunken," in
ascribing nothing to chance. " The truth," Hegel adds, " that a
providence, that of God, presides over the events of the world,
consorts with that proposition." l
History, as containing at once a providential order and a moral
order enclosed within it, discovers God. Events do not take
place in a chaotic series. A progress is discernible, an orderly
succession of phenomena, the accomplishment of ends by the
1 Hegel, Philosophy of History, Sibree's Transl., pp. 9, 12, 13.
60 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
concurrence of agencies beyond the power of individuals to origi
nate or combine. There is a Power that " makes for righteous
ness." Amid all the disorder of the world, as Bishop Butler has
convincingly shown, there is manifested on the part of the Power
which governs, an approbation of right and a condemnation of
wrong, analogous to the manifestation of justice and holiness
which emanates from righteous rulers among men. If righteous
ness appears to be but imperfectly carried out, it is an indication
that in this life the system is incomplete, and that here we see
only its beginnings. In order to disprove the rectitude or the
power of the divine Sovereign, the assailant must first make good
the contention that the system as here seen is complete. On him
rests the burden of proof.
It is objected to the belief that God is personal, that personality
implies limitation, and that, if personal, God could not be infinite
and absolute. " Infinite " (and the same is true of " absolute ")
is an adjective, not a substantive. When used as a noun, pre
ceded by the definite article, it signifies not a being, but an ab
straction. When it stands as a predicate, as remarked before, it
means that the subject, be it space, time, or some quality of a
being, is without limit. Thus, when I affirm that space is infinite,
I express a positive perception, or thought. I mean not only that
imagination can set no bounds to space, but also that this inability
is owing, not to any defect in the imagination or conceptive fac
ulty, but to the nature of the object. When I say that God is in
finite in power, I mean that He can do all things which are objects
of power, or that His power is incapable of increase. No amount
of power could be added to the power of which He is possessed. It
is only when "the Infinite" is erroneously taken as the synonym
of the sum of all existence, that personality is made to be incom
patible with God's infinitude. No such conception of Him is
needed for the satisfaction of the reason or the heart of man.
Enough that He is the ground of the existence of all beings outside
of Himself, or the creative and sustaining Power. There are no
limitations upon His power which He has not voluntarily set. Such
limitation — as in giving life to rational agents capable of self-
determination, and in allowing them scope for its exercise — is not
imposed on Him, but depends on His own choice.
An absolute being is independent of all other beings for its
THE ARGUMENTS FOR THE BEING OF GOD 6 1
existence and for the full realization of its nature. It is con
tended that inasmuch as self-consciousness is conditioned on the
distinction of the ego from the non-ego, the subject from the object,
a personal being cannot have the attribute of self-existence, can
not be absolute. Without some other existence than himself, a
being cannot be self-conscious. The answer to this is, that the
premise is an unwarranted generalization from what is true in the
case of the human, finite, dependent personality of man, which is
developed in connection with a body, and is only one of numer
ous finite personalities under the same class. To assert that self-
consciousness cannot exist independently of such conditions,
because it is through them that I come to a knowledge of myself,
is a great leap in logic. The proposition that man is in the image
of God does not necessarily imply that the divine intelligence is
subject to the restrictions and infirmities that belong to the human.
It is not implied that God ascertains truth by a gradual process of
investigation or of reasoning, or that He deliberates on a plan of
action, and casts about for the appropriate means of executing it.
These limitations are characteristic, not of intelligence in itself,
but of finite intelligence. It is meant that He is not an imper
sonal principle or occult force, but is self-conscious and self-
determining. Nor is it asserted that He is perfectly comprehensible
by us. Far from it. It is not pretended that we are able fully to
think away the limitations which cleave to us in our character as
dependent and finite, and to frame thus an adequate conception
of a person infinite and absolute. Nevertheless, the existence of
such a person, whom we can apprehend if not comprehend, is
verified to our minds by sufficient evidence. Pantheism, with its
immanent Absolute, void of personal attributes, and its self-devel
oping universe, postulates a deity limited, subject to change, and
reaching self-consciousness — if it is ever reached — only in men.
And Pantheism, when it denies the free and responsible nature of
man, maims the creature whom it pretends to deify, and anni
hilates not only morality, but religion also, in any proper sense of
the term.
The citadel of Theism is in the consciousness of our own per
sonality. Within ourselves God reveals himself more directly than
through any other channel. He impinges, so to speak, on the
soul which finds in its primitive activity an intimation and impli
cation of an unconditioned Cause on whom it is dependent, — a
62 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Cause self-conscious like itself, and speaking with holy authority
in conscience, wherein also is presented the end which the soul
is to pursue through its own free self-determination, — an end
which could only be set by a Being both intelligent and holy.
The yearning for fellowship with the Being thus revealed — indis
tinct though it be, well-nigh stifled by absorption in finite objects
and in the vain quest for rest and joy in them — is inseparable
from human nature. There is an unappeased thirst in the soul
when cut off from God. It seeks for " living water."
Atheism is an insult to humanity. A good man is a man with
a purpose, a righteous purpose. He aims at well-being, — at the
well-being of himself and of the world of which he forms a part.
This end he pursues seriously and earnestly, and feels bound to
pursue, let the cost to himself be what it may. To tell him that
while he is under a sacred obligation to have this purpose, and
pursue this end, there is yet no purpose or end in the universe in
which he is acting his part — what is this but to offer a gross affront
to his reason and moral sense? He is to abstain from frivolity;
he is to act from an intelligent purpose, for the accomplishment
of rational ends ; but the universe, he is told, is the offspring of
gigantic frivolity. The latter is without purpose or end ; there
chance or blind fate rules.
CHAPTER III
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES : PANTHEISM, POSITIVISM,
MATERIALISM, AGNOSTICISM
THE three inseparable, yet distinct, data of consciousness are
self, material nature, and God. Pantheism would merge the first
two in the third — in its essence an impersonal Deity. Materi
alism would merge the first and the third in the second, and so
deify matter. Positivism abjures belief in all three, and resolves
the universe, so far as we have any means of knowing, into a
"Succession of appearances." Agnosticism would place behind
these phenomena an inscrutable " energy," its definition of the
third element.
Pantheism identifies God with the world, or the sum total of
being. It differs from Atheism in holding to something besides
and beneath finite things, — an all-pervading Cause or Essence.
It differs from Deism in denying that God is separate from the
world, and that the world is sustained and guided by energies
exerted from without. It does not differ from Theism in affirm
ing the immanence of God, for on this Theism likewise insists ;
but it differs from Theism in denying to the immanent Power dis
tinct consciousness and will, and an existence not dependent on
the world. Pantheism denies, and Theism asserts, creation.
With the denial to God of will and conscious intelligence, Panthe
ism excludes design. Finite things emerge into being, and pass
away, and the course of nature proceeds through the perpetual
operation of an agency which has no cognizance of its work except
so far as it may arrive at self-consciousness in man.
In the system of Spinoza, the most celebrated and influential
of modern Pantheists, it is asserted that there is, and can be, but
one substance, — tina et unica substaiitia. Of the infinite number
of infinite attributes which constitute the one substance, two are
discerned by us, — extension and thought. These, distinct in our
perception, are not disparate in the substance. Both being mani-
63
64 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
festations of a simple identical essence, the order of existence is
parallel to the order of thought. All individual things are modes
of one or the other of the attributes, that is, of the substance as far
as it is discerned by us. There is a complete correspondence or
harmony, although there is no reciprocal influence, between bodies
and minds. But the modes do not make up the substance, which
is prior to them ; they are transient as ripples on the surface of
the sea. The imagination regards them as entities ; but reason
looks beneath them, to the eternal essence of which they are but
a fleeting manifestation.
No philosopher, with the possible exception of Aristotle, has
been more lauded for his rigorous logic than Spinoza. In truth,
few philosophers have included more fallacies in the exposition of
their systems. The pages of the Ethics swarm with paralogisms,
all veiled under the forms of rigid mathematical statement. His
fundamental definitions, whatever verbal precision may belong to
them, are, as regards the realities of being, unproved assumptions.
His reasoning, from beginning to end, is vitiated by the realistic
presupposition that the actual existence of a being can be inferred
from the definition of a word. He falls into this mistake of find
ing proof of the reality of a thing from the contents of a concep
tion, in his very first definition, where he says, " By that which is
the cause of itself, I understand that whose essence involves exist
ence, or that whose nature can only be conceived as existent."
His argument is an argument from definitions, without having
offered proof of the existence of the thing defined. Spinoza fails
to prove that only one substance can exist, and that no other sub
stance can be brought into being which is capable of self- activity,
though dependent for the origin and continuance of its existence
upon another. Why the one and simple substance should have
modes ; why it should have these discoverable modes, and no
other ; how the modes of thought and extension are made to run
parallel with each other ; how the infinite variety of modes, em
bracing stars and suns, men and animals, minds and bodies, and
all other finite things, are derived in their order and place,—
these are problems with regard to which the system of Spinoza,
though professing to explain the universe by a method purely de
ductive, leaves us wholly in the dark.1
1 One of the hard questions proposed to Spinoza by Tschirnhausern, his
correspondent, was, how the existence and variety of external things is to be
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 65
The ideal Pantheism of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel pursues
a different path. It undertakes still to unveil the Absolute Being,
and from the Absolute to trace the evolution of all concrete exist
ences, mental and material. The Absolute in Fichte is the univer
sal ego, of which individual minds, together with external things,
the objects of thought, are the phenomenal product, — a univer
sal ego which is void of consciousness, and of which it is vain to
attempt to form a conception. The impression we have of exter
nality is from the check put upon the self-activity of the mind by
its own inward law. From this Solipsism — Panegoism, it is some
times styled — Fichte sought in his ethical philosophy for a place
for a plurality of egos, and a substitute for Theism in the system of
moral order. Schelling, avoiding Idealism, made the Absolute the
point of indifference and common basis of subject and object.
For the perception of this impersonal Deity, which is assumed
to be indefinable, and not an object of thought, he postulated an
impossible faculty of intellectual intuition, wherein the individual
escapes from himself, and soars above the conditions or essential
limits of conscious thinking in a finite mind. Hegel advances
upon the same path. He discerns and repudiates the one-sided
position of Kant in resolving our knowledge of nature, beyond the
bare fact of its existence, into a subjective process. The divine
reason is immanent in the world and apprehensible by man. There
is a rationality in nature and in human history. But Hegel swings
to the opposite extreme, and identifies object and subject, thing
and thinker, as in essence one. Starting, like Schelling, with this
assumption that subject and object, thought and thing, are identi
cal, he ventures on the bold emprise of setting down all the suc
cessive stages through which thought in its absolute or most general
form, by means of a kind of momentum assumed to inhere in it,
develops the entire chain of concepts, or the whole variety and
aggregate of particular existences, up to the point where, in the
mental movement of the philosopher, the universe thus constituted
attains to complete self-consciousness. In the logic of Hegel, we
are told, the universe reveals itself to the spectator with no aid
from experience in the process of its self-unfolding. The complex
organism of thought, which is identical with the world of being,
evolves itself under his eye.
deduced from the attribute of extension. See Pollock, Spinoza, His Life and
Philosophy, p. 173.
66 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
There is a difficulty, to begin with, in this self-evolving of " the
idea." Motion is presupposed, and motion is a conception de
rived from experience. Moreover, few critics at present would
contend that all the links in this metaphysical chain are forged of
solid metal. There are breaks which are filled up with an unsub
stantial substitute for it. Transitions are effected — for example,
where matter, or life, or mind emerge — rather by sleight of hand
than by a legitimate application of the logical method. But if it
were granted that the edifice is compact, and coherent in all its
parts, it is still only a ghostly castle. It is an ideal skeleton of a
universe. Its value is at best hypothetical and negative. The
universe is more than a string of abstractions. This was forcibly
stated in the criticism by Schelling in his later system. If a world
were to exist, and to be rationally framed, it might possibly be con
formed to this conception or outline. Whether the world is a real
ity, experience alone can determine. The highest merit which can
be claimed for the ideal scheme of Hegel is such as belongs to the
plans of an architect as they are conceived in his mind, before a
beginning has been made of the edifice, or the spade has touched
the ground. The radical fault of the Hegelian system, and its
erroneous implications, are not averted by the numerous enlight
ened comments on the constitution of nature, and especially on
the philosophy of history.1
Independently of other difficulties in the way of the various
theories of Pantheism which have been propounded in ancient
and modern times, it is a sufficient refutation of them that they
stand in contradiction to consciousness, and that they are at vari
ance with conscience. It is through self-consciousness that our
first notion of substance and of unity is derived. The manifold
operations of thought, feeling, imagination, memory, affection, con
sciously proceed from a single source within. The mind is revealed
to itself as a separate, substantial, undivided entity. Pantheism,
in resolving personal being into a mere phenomenon, or a phase
of an impersonal essence, and in abolishing the gulf of separation
between the subject and the object, clashes with the first and
clearest affirmation of consciousness.2
1 Of course, there was a Theistic school of interpreters of Hegel. Others
have sought to graft Theism upon Hegelianism. The consideration of these
phases of opinion, including the more recent " Neo-Hegelian " speculation,
would be out of place here.
2 See Appendix, Note 5.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 67
Every system of Pantheism is necessitarian. It is vain to say,
that, where there is no constraint from without, there is freedom
of the will. A plant growing out of a seed would not become free
by becoming conscious. The determinism which refers all volun
tary action to a force within, which is capable of moving only on
one line, and is incapable of alternative action, is equivalent, in its
bearing on responsibility, to fatalism. On this theory, moral
accountableness is an illusion.1 No distinction is left between
natural history and moral history. Pantheism sweeps away the
absolute antithesis between good and evil, the perception of which
is the very life of conscience. Under that philosophy, evil, wher
ever it occurs, is normal. Evil, when viewed in all its relations, is
good. It appears to be the opposite of good, only when it is con
templated in a more restricted relation, and from a point of view
too confined. Such a judgment respecting moral evil undermines
morality in theory, and, were it acted on, would corrupt society.
It would dissolve the bonds of obligation. In the proportion in
which the unperverted moral sense corresponds to the reality of
things, to that extent is Pantheism in all of its forms disproved.
Positivism is the antipode of Pantheistic philosophy. So far
from laying claim to omniscience, it goes to the other extreme of
disclaiming all knowledge of the origin of things or of their interior
nature. A fundamental principle of Positivism, as expounded by
Comte, is the ignoring of both efficient and final causes. There is
no proof, it is affirmed, that such causes exist. Science takes
notice of naught but phenomena presented to the senses. The
whole function of science is to classify facts under the rubrics of
similarity and sequence. The sum of human knowledge hath this
extent, no more. As for any links of connection between phenom
ena, or any plan under which they occur, science knows nothing
of either.
But where do we get the notion of similarity, and of simultaneity
and succession in time ? The senses do not provide us with these
ideas. At the threshold, then, Positivism renounces its own primary
maxim. The principle of causation and the perception of design
have a genesis which entitles them to not less credit than is given
to the recognition of likeness and temporal sequence. A Posi-
tivist, however disposed, with M. Comte, to discard psychology,
1 This has been shown above, in ch. i. See, also, J. Martineau, A Study of
Spinoza, p. 233.
68 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
must admit that there are mental phenomena. He must admit
that they form together a group having a distinct character. He
must refer them to a distinct spiritual entity, or to a material
origin, in which case he lapses into Materialism.
The law of three successive states, — the religious, the meta
physical, and the positive, — which Comte asserted to belong to
the history of thought, — this law, in the form in which it was pro
claimed by Comte, is without foundation in historical fact. Belief
in a personal God has coexisted, and does now coexist, in con
nection with a belief in second causes, and loyalty to the maxims
of inductive investigation.
J. S. Mill, while adhering to the proposition that we know only
phenomena, attempted to rescue the Positivist scheme from scepti
cism, which is its proper corollary, by holding to something exterior
to us, which is " the permanent possibility of sensations," and by
speaking of "a thread of consciousness." But matter cannot be
made a something which produces sensations, without giving up the
Positivist denial both of causation and of our knowledge of any
thing save phenomena. Nor is it possible to speak of a " thread
of consciousness," if there be nothing in the mind but successive
states of consciousness. Mr. Mill was bound by a logical necessity
to deny the existence of anything except mental sensations, —
phenomena of his own individual consciousness ; or if he over
stepped the limit of phenomena, and believed in " a something,"
whether material or mental, he did it at the sacrifice of his funda
mental doctrine.1
The principal adversaries of Theism at the present day are
Materialism and Agnosticism. Materialism is the doctrine that
mind has no existence except as a function of the body : it is a
product of organization. In its crass form, Materialism affirms
that the brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile. This
exploded view involves the notion that thought is a material sub
stance contained somehow in the brain. In its more refined state
ment, Materialism asserts that thought, feeling, volition, are
phenomena of the nervous organism, as magnetism is the property
of the loadstone. Thought is compared to a flame, which first
burns faintly, then more brightly, then flickers, and at length goes
out, as the material source of combustion is consumed or dissipated.
l$ee remarks of Dr. Flint, Antitheistic 77ieortes, pp. 185, 186.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 69
Materialism is a theory which was brought forward in very
ancient times. It is not open to the reproach, nor can it boast of
the attraction, of novelty. And it deserves to be remarked, that
the data on which its merit as a theory is to be judged remain
substantially unaltered. It is a serious though frequent mistake to
think that modern physiology, in its microscopic examination of
the brain, has discovered any new clew to the solution of the prob
lem of the relation of the brain to the mind. The evidences of
the close connection and interaction of mind and body, or of
mental and physical states, are not more numerous or more plain
now than they have always been. That fatigue dulls the attention,
that narcotics stimulate or stupefy the powers of thought and emo
tion, that fever may produce delirium, and a blow on the head
may suspend consciousness, are facts with which mankind have
always been familiar. The influence of the body on the mind is in
countless ways manifest. On the contrary, that the physical organ
ism is affected by mental states is an equally common experience.
The feeling of guilt sends the blood to the cheek ; fear makes the
knees quake ; joy and love brighten the eye ; the will curbs and
controls the bodily organs, or puts them in motion in obedience to
its behest. But there is no warrant in the interaction of mind and
body for the opinion that the latter, or any other extra-mental
reality, is the cause or the subject of mental cognition.
Not only are the facts on either side familiar to everybody, but
no nearer approach has been made toward bridging the gulf
between physical states — in particular, molecular movements of
the brain — and consciousness. Says Tyndall, " The passage from
the physics of the brain to the corresponding facts of conscious
ness is unthinkable. Granted that a definite thought and a defi
nite molecular action in the brain occur simultaneously, we do not
possess the intellectual organ, nor apparently any rudiment of the
organ, which would enable us to pass by a process of reasoning
from the one to the other. They appear together, but we do not
know why. Were our minds and senses so expanded, strength
ened, and illuminated as to enable us to see and feel the very
molecules of the brain ; were we capable of following their mo
tions, all their groupings, all their electric discharges, if such there
be ; and were we intimately acquainted with the corresponding
states of thought and feeling, — we should be as far as ever from
the solution of the problem, How are these physical states con-
70 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
nected with the facts of consciousness?"1 This is said, be it
observed, on the supposition of a sweeping psycho-physical paral
lelism between physical and mental states, which is incapable of
proof. Close as is the relation of the brain and the mind, the
field is often left in the main to the self-activity of each according
to its own nature. Not even a Materialist, however, doubts that
there is a class of phenomena which no physical observation is
capable of revealing. If the brain of Sophocles, when he was
composing the Antigone, had been laid bare, and the observer
had possessed an organ of vision capable of discerning every
movement within it, he would have perceived not the faintest
trace of the thoughts which enter into that poem, — or of the
sentiments that inspired the author. One might as well cut open
a bean-stalk, or search a handful of sand, in the hope of finding
thought and emotion.
It is easy to prove, and it has been proved, that Materialism
regarded as a theory is self-destructive. If opinion is not the
product of the mind's own self-activity, but is merely a product
of the molecular motion of nervous substance, on what ground is
one opinion preferred to another? What is the criterion for the
judgment? Is not one shuffle of atoms as normal as another?
if not, by what criterion is one to be approved, and the other
rejected? How can either be said to be true or false, when both
are equally necessary, and there is no norm to serve as a touch
stone of their validity? It is impossible to pronounce one kind
of brain normal, and another abnormal ; since the rule on which
the distinction is to be made is itself a mere product of molecular
action, and therefore possessed of no independent, objective va
lidity. To declare a given doctrine true, and another false, when
each has the same justification as the rule on which they are
judged, is a suicidal proceeding. Like absurdities follow the
assertion by a materialist that one thing is morally right, and an
other morally wrong, one thing noble, and another base, one thing
wise, and another foolish. There is no objective truth, no crite
rion having any surer warrant than the objects to which it is
applied. There is no judge between the parties ; the judge is
himself a party on trial. Thus Materialism lapses into scepticism.
1 Fragments of Science, p. 121 ; 5th eel., p. 42. Declarations apparently of
the same purport occur occasionally, — yet, as in Tyndall, inconsistently, — in
Spencer. See his Psychology, vol. i. §§ 62, 272.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 71
Physiology is powerless to explain the simple fact of sense-percep
tion, or the rudimental feeling at the basis of it. A wave of tenu
ous ether strikes on the retina of the eye. The impact of the
ether induces a molecular motion in the optic nerve, which, in
turn, produces a corresponding effect in the sensorium lodged in
the skull. On this condition there ensues & feeling; but this feel
ing, a moment's reflection will show, is something totally dissimi
lar to the wave-motions which preceded and provoked it. But,
further, in the act of perception the mind attends to the sensation,
and compares one sensation with another. This discrimination is
a mental act on which Materialism sheds not the faintest ray of
light. The facts of memory, of conception, and reasoning, the
phenomena of conscience, the operations of the will, — of these
the Materialistic theory can give no reasonable or intelligible
account. The Materialist is obliged to deny moral freedom. Vol
untary action he holds to be necessitated action. The conscious
ness of liberty with the corresponding feelings of self- approbation
or guilt are stigmatized as delusive. No man could have chosen
or acted otherwise than in fact he did choose or act, any more
than he could have added a cubit to his stature. Of the origin
and persistency of these ideas and convictions of the soul, Mate
rialism hopelessly fails to give any rational account.
Materialism, as it is usually held at present, starts with the fact
of the simultaneity of thought and molecular changes. This is so
far exaggerated as to make it inclusive of all mental action. This
is the doctrine of " psycho-physical parallelism " or " conscious
automatism." If there were ground for this untenable assumption,
the task would remain of showing how the former are produced by
the latter. How do brain-movements produce thought-move
ments? If consciousness enters as an effect into the chain of
molecular motion, then, by the accepted law of conservation and
correlation, consciousness, in turn, is a cause reacting upon the
brain. But this conclusion is directly contrary to the Materialistic
theory, and is accordingly rejected. It will not do to allow that
force is convertible into consciousness. There must be no break
in the physical chain. Consciousness is excluded from being a
link in this chain. Consciousness can subtract no force from
matter. It will not do to answer that consciousness is the attend
ant of the motions of matter. What causes it to attend? What is
the ground of what parallelism exists between the series of mental
72 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
and the series of material manifestations? Is it from the nature of
matter that both alike arise ? Then, how can thought be denied
to be a link in the physical series? If it be some form of being
neither material nor mental, the same consequence follows, and all
the additional difficulties are incurred which belong to the monis
tic doctrine of Spinoza. A refuge is sought in the self-contradictory
notion of " epiphenomena," or concomitants which are not effects
but which are figuratively designated as shadows of molecular
action ! There are limits to the interaction of the brain and the
mind ; there are distinct groups of phenomena ; all mental states,
including sensations so far as consciousness is involved, have their
invisible centre and source in the indivisible SELF.
Such is the mire into which one falls upon the attempt to
hold that man is a conscious automaton. It is not escaped by
imagining matter to be endowed with mystical and marvellous
capacities, which would make it different from itself, and endue
it with a heterogeneous nature. Secret potencies, after the man
ner of the hylozoist Pantheism of the ancients, are attributed to
the primeval atoms. " Mind-stuff," or an occult mentality, is
imagined to reside in the clod, or, to make the idea more attrac
tive, in the effulgent sun. The Platonic philosophy is said to lurk
potentially in its beams. This is fancy, not science. The reality
of a mental subject, in which the modes of consciousness have their
unity, is implied in the language of Materialists, even when they
are advocating their theory. The presence of a personal agent
by whom thoughts and things are compared, their order of suc
cession observed, and their origin investigated, is constantly
assumed.
The proposition that the ideas of cause and effect, substance,
self, etc., which are commonly held to be of subjective origin, are the
product of sensations, and derived from experience, is disproved
by the fact that experience is impossible without them. In estab
lishing the a priori character of the intuitions, Kant accomplished
a work which forever excludes Materialism from being the creed
of any but confused and illogical reasoners.
Agnosticism, the system of Herbert Spencer, includes disbelief
in the personality of God, but also equally in the personality of
man. There is, of course, the verbal admission of a subject and
object of knowledge. This distinction, it is even said, is " the
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THELSTIC THEORIES 73
consciousness of a difference transcending all other differences." l
But subject and object, knower and thing known, are pro
nounced to be purely phenomenal. The reality behind them is
said to be utterly incognizable. Nothing is known of it but its
bare existence. So, too, we are utterly in the dark as to the rela
tions subsisting among things as distinguished from their transfig
ured manifestations in consciousness ; for these manifestations
reveal nothing save the bare existence of objects, together with rela
tions between them which are perfectly inscrutable. The phenom
ena are symbols, but they are symbols only in the algebraic sense.
They are not pictures, they are not representations of the objects
that produce them. They are effects, in consciousness, of un
known agencies. The order in which the effects occur suggests,
we are told, a corresponding order in these agencies. But what
is " order," what is regularity of succession, when predicted of
noumena, but words void of meaning? "What we are conscious
of as properties of matter, even down to its weight and resistance,
are but subjective affections produced by objective agencies
which are unknown and unknowable." - These effects «.re generi-
cally classified as matter, motion, and force. These terms express
certain "likenesses of kind," the most general likenesses, in the
subjective affections thus produced. There are certain likenesses
of connection in these effects, which we class as laws. Matter
and motion, space and time, are reducible to force. But " force "
only designates the subjective affection in its ultimate or most
general expression. Of force as an objective reality we know
nothing. It follows that the same is true of cause, and of every
other term descriptive of power. There is power, there is cause,
apart from our feeling ; but as to what they are we are entirely in
the dark. "The interpretation of all phenomena in terms of mat
ter, motion, and force, is nothing more than the reduction of our
complex symbols of thought to the simplest symbols ; and when
the equation is brought to its lowest terms, the symbols remain
symbols still."3 Further, the world of consciousness and the
world of things as apprehended in consciousness, are symbols of a
reality to which both in common are to be attributed. "A
Power of which the nature remains forever inconceivable, and to
which no limits in Time or Space can be imagined, works in us
1 Spencer, Principles of Psychology, 2d ed., i. 157.
2 Ibid., i. 493. * First Principles, 2d ed., p. 558.
74 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
certain effects." 1 Thus all our science consists in a classification
of states of consciousness which are the product of the inscrutable
Cause. It is a " transfigured Realism." Reality, in any other
sense, is a terra incognita.
With these views is associated Mr. Spencer's doctrine of evolu
tion. Evolution is the method of action of the inscrutable force.
He is positive in the assertion that " the phenomena of Evolution
are to be deduced from the Persistence of Force." By this he
means the " Absolute Force" —"some Cause, which transcends
our knowledge and conception." It is " an Unconditioned Reality
without beginning or end." a But persistence applied to phenome
nal forces signifies that these in their totality are quantitatively
constant. This could not be said of the Absolute Force, the
Unknown Cause. Yet, it is forces in the phenomenal sense, or the
conservation of energy, which is made the starting-point of evolu
tion. " But the conservation of energy is not a law of change, still
less a law of qualities," whereas the celestial, organic, social, and
other phenomena which make up what Mr. Spencer calls cosmic
evolution, are so many series of qualitative changes.4 " The con
servation of energy," as Mr. Ward points out, "does not initiate
events, and furnishes absolutely no clew to qualitative diversity.
It is entirely a quantitative law." The confusion in the meaning
attached to " Persistence of Force " makes shipwreck of the entire
evolutionary scheme in which this vague and ambiguous phrase
plays so important a part.
We can only glance at the steps of the process. Homogeneous
matter, it is assumed, diversifies or differentiates itself. A passage
from inorganic being to life is gained only by a leap. The develop
ment is represented as going on until nervous organism arises, and
reaches a certain stage of complexity, when sentience appears, and,
at length personal consciousness, with all its complexity of contents.
But consciousness is a growth. All our mental life is woven out
of sensations. Intuitions are the product of experience, — not of
the individual merely, but of the race, since the law of heredity
transmits the acquisitions of the ancestor to his progeny. So mind
is built up from rudimental sensations. The lowest form of life
issues at last in the intellect of a Bacon or a Newton. And life,
it seems to be held, is evolved from unorganized matter.
1 First Principles, p. 557. 2 Ibid., § 147. 3 Ibid., § 62.
4 Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism, vol. i. p. 214.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 75
What, according to Spencer's own principles, are " matter," and
" nervous organism," and " life," independently of consciousness
and when there is no consciousness to apprehend them? How
can Nature be used to beget consciousness, and consciousness be
used, in turn, to beget Nature? How are reason, imagination,
memory, conscience, and the entire stock of mental experiences
of which a Leibnitz or a Dante is capable, evolved from nerve-sub
stance? These and like questions we waive, and direct our atten
tion to the doctrine of " the Unknowable."
What is " the Absolute " and " the Infinite " which are declared
to be out of the reach of knowledge, and which, the moment the
knowing faculty attempts to deal with them, lead to manifold con
tradictions? They are mere abstractions. They have no other
than a merely verbal existence. They are reached by thinking
away all limits, all conditions, all specific qualities. In short, " the
Absolute " as thus described is nothing.
The attempt is made to exhibit a synthesis of " the detailed phe
nomena of life and mind and society in terms of matter, motion, and
force." l But the " synthesis," like the prior " analysis," confounds
abstraction with analysis. " Knowledge is to be verified by ruth
lessly abstracting from the concrete real all qualitative specifica
tions. Celestial bodies, organisms, societies, are to be reduced to
their lowest terms, viz., Matter, Motion, Force." What is merely
" a generalization from the material world " is turned into an instru
ment for retracing a path, which is development only in name. In
this way, the world of things, material and mental, is reconstructed.
Things are evolved which were not involved.
If this fictitious Absolute be treated as real, absurdities follow.2
1 Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism, i. 255 seq.
2 The antinomies which Kant and Hamilton derive from a quantitative con
ception of the Infinite are the result. The antinomies of Kant, and of Hamilton
and Mansel, are capable of being resolved. They involve fallacies. A quanti
tative idea of the Infinite is frequently at the basis of the assertion that con
tradictions belong to the conception of it. The Infinite is treated as if it were
a complete whole, i.e. as if it were a finite. Hamilton's doctrine of nescience
depends partly on the idea of "the Infinite" and "the Absolute" as mere
abstractions, and unrelated, and partly on a restricted definition of knowledge.
We cannot know space, he tells us, as absolutely bounded, or as infinitely un
bounded. The first, to be sure, is impossible, because it is contrary to the
known reality. The second is not impossible. True, we cannot imagine space
as complete ; we cannot imagine all space, space as a whole, because this, too, is
contrary to the reality. But we know space as infinite ; that is, we know space
76 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
The Absolute which Spencer actually places at the foundation of
his system is antithetical to relative being ; it is correlated to the rela
tive. Moreover, the Absolute comes within the pale of conscious
ness, be the cognition of it however vague. Only so far as we are
conscious of it, have we any evidence of its reality. Moreover, it
is the cause of the relative. It is to the agency of the Absolute that
all states of consciousness are referable. " It works in us" says
Spencer, "certain effects." Plainly, the Absolute, the real Abso
lute, is related. Only as related in the ways just stated is its exist
ence known. Mr. Spencer says himself that the mind must in
" some dim mode of consciousness posit a non-relative, and in
some similarly dim mode of consciousness, a relation between it
and the relative." l
Plainly, we know not only that the Absolute is, but also, to the
same extent, what it is. But let us look more narrowly at the
function assigned to the Absolute, and the mode in which we as
certain it. Here Mr. Spencer brings in the principle of CAUSE.
The Absolute is the cause of both subject and object. And the
idea of cause we derive, according to his own teaching, from the
changes of consciousness which imply causation. " The force,"
he says, " by which we ourselves produce changes, and which serves
to symbolize the cause of changes in general, is the final disclos
ure of analysis." " In other words, the experience of conscious
causal agency in ourselves gives us the idea of " force." This is
" the original datum of consciousness." This is all we know of
force. Only as we are ourselves conscious of power, do we know any
thing of power in the universe. Now, Mr. Spencer chooses to
name the ultimate reality " Force " — " the Absolute Force." He
declares it to be inscrutable ; since the force of which we are
immediately conscious is not persistent, is a relative. Yet he says
that he means by it " the persistence of some cause which tran
scends our knowledge and conception." Take away cause from
the Absolute, and nothing is left ; and the only cause of which we
have any idea is our own conscious activity. If Mr. Spencer would
make the causal idea, as thus derived, the symbol for the interpre
tation of "changes in general" he would be a Theist. By deftly
and know not only that we cannot limit it, but positively that there is no limit
to it. We know what power is. We do not lose our notion of power when we
predicate infinitude of it. It is power still, but power incapable of limit.
1 Essays, vol. iii. pp. 293 seq. 2 First Principles) p. 169.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 77
resolving cause into the physical idea of " force," he gives to his
system a Pantheistic character. It is only by converting the a
priori idea of cause, as given in consciousness, into a " force "
which we "cannot form any idea of," and which he has no war
rant for assuming, that he avoids Theism.1
Let us observe the consequences of holding the Agnostic rigidly
to his own principles.
According to Mr. Spencer's numerous and explicit avowals, all
of our conceptions and language respecting nature are vitiated by
the same anthropomorphism which he finds in the ascribing of per
sonality to God. All science is made out to be a mental picture to
which there is no likeness in realities outside of consciousness.
To speak of matter as impenetrable, to make statements respecting
an imponderable ether, molecular movements, atoms, even respect
ing space, time, motion, cause, force, is to talk in figures, without
the least knowledge of the realities denoted by them. It is not a
case where a symbol is adopted to signify known reality. We
cannot compare the reality with the symbol or notion, because of
the reality we have not the slightest knowledge. When we speak,
for example, of the vibrations of the air, we have not the least
1 Later expressions of Mr. Spencer indicate a nascent disposition to cross
the limit of bald phenomenalism and to concede that the ''Infinite and Eternal
Energy," from which ail things proceed, " is not, as far as our knowledge is
concerned, an absolute blank." " In the development of religion," he says, " the
last stage reached is recognition of the truth that force as it exists beyond
consciousness, cannot be like what we know as force within consciousness, and
that yet, as either is capable of generating the other, they must be different
modes of the same. . . . Consequently . . . the Power manifested throughout
the world distinguished as material, is the same Power which in ourselves
wells up under the form of consciousness." " We are thus led," it is added,
"to rather a spiritualistic than a materialistic interpretation of the universe."
But in the context these qualifications of absolute neutrality between the two
hypotheses, and from absolute ignorance of the nature of the primal Energy,
are studiously guarded. See Spencer's Principles of Sociology (1896), vol. iii.
P- T73> §§ 659, 660. Mr. John Fiske goes, perhaps, farther in the right direc
tion than Mr. Spencer. He believes that " the Infinite Power which is mani
fested in the universe is essentially psychical in its nature, that between God
and the Human Soul there is a real kinship, although we may be unable to
render any scientific account of it." Through Nature to God, p. 162. lie
protests against attempts " to take away from our notion of God the human
element " (p. 166). Yet he fails to justify explicitly in our conception the
elements which are essential in real personality and warrant us in containing
in it, for substance, the truth that He hears and answers prayer.
78 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
knowledge either of what the air is, or of what vibrations are. We
are merely giving name to an unknown cause of mental states ; but
even of cause itself, predicated of the object in itself, and of what
is meant by its agency in giving rise to effects in us, we are as igno
rant as a blind man of colors. Mr. Spencer says that matter is
probably composed of ultimate, homogeneous units.1 He appears
in various places, to think well of the atomic theory of matter.
But if he is speaking of matter as it is, independently of our sensa
tions, he forgets, when he talks thus, the fundamental doctrine of
his philosophy. He undertakes to tell us about realities, when he
cannot consistently speak of aught but their algebraic symbols, or
the phenomena of consciousness. The atomic theory of matter
carries us as far into the unknown realm of ontology as the doc
trine of the personality of the Absolute, or any other proposition
embraced in Christian Theism.
It is obvious that Agnosticism is the destruction of science. All
the investigations and reasonings of science proceed on the founda
tion of axioms, — call them intuitions, rational postulates, or by
any other name. But these, according to Agnostics, denote simply
a certain stage at which the process of evolution has arrived.
What is to hinder them from vanishing, or resolving themselves
into another set of axioms, with the forward movement of this
unresting process? What then will become of the doctrines of
Agnosticism itself ? It is plain that on this philosophy, all knowl
edge of realities, as distinct from transitory impressions, is a house
built on the sand. All science is reduced to Schein — mere sem
blance.
It is impossible for the Agnostic to limit his knowledge to
experience, and to reject as unverified the implications of experi
ence, without abandoning nearly all that he holds true. If he
sticks to his principle, his creed will be a short one. Conscious
ness is confined to the present moment. I am conscious of
remembering an experience in the past. This consciousness as a
present fact I cannot deny without a contradiction. But how do
I know that the object of the recollection — be it a thought, or
feeling, or experience of any sort — ever had a reality ? How do I
know anything past, or that there is a past? Now, memory is
necessary to the comparison of sensations, to reasoning, to our
whole mental life. Yet to believe in memory is to transcend
^Principles of Psychology, vol. i. p. 157.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 79
experience. I have certain sensations which I attribute collectively
to a cause named my " body." Like sensations lead me to recog
nize the existence of other bodies like my own. But how do I
know that there is consciousness within these bodies? How do I
know that my fellow-men whom I see about me have minds like
my own? The senses cannot perceive the intelligence of the
friends about me. I infer that they are intelligent, but in this
inference I transcend experience. Experience reduced to its
exact terms, according to the methods of Agnosticism, is confined
to the present feeling, — the feeling of the transient moment.
When the Agnostic goes beyond this, when he infers that what is
remembered was once presented in consciousness, that his fellow-
men are thinking beings, and not mindless puppets, that any intel
ligent beings exist outside of himself, he transcends experience.
If he were to predicate intelligence of God, he would be guilty of no
graver assumption than when he ascribes intelligence to the fellow-
men whom he sees moving about, and with whom he is conversing.
The Spencerian identification of subject and object, mind and
matter, is illusive and groundless. They are declared to be " the
subjective and objective faces of the same thing." They are
said to be "the opposite faces" of one reality. Sometimes they
are spoken of as its " inner and outer side." On the one side,
we are told, there are nerve-waves ; on the other there are feel
ings. What is the fact, or the reality, of which these two are
" faces " or "sides"? From much of the language which Mr.
Spencer uses— it might be said, from the general drift of his
remarks — the impression would be gained, that the reality is
material, and that feeling is the mere concomitant or effect. But
this theorem he disavows. He even says, that, as between ideal
ism and materialism, the former is to be preferred.1 More, he
tells us, can be alleged for it than for the opposite theory. The
nerve-movement is phenomenal not less than the feeling. The
two are coordinate. The fact or the reality is to be distinguished
from both. As phenomena, there are two. There are two facts,
and these two are the only realities accessible to us. The sup
posed power, or thing in itself, is behind, and is absolutely hidden.
The difference between the ego and the non-ego " transcends all
other differences." A unit of motion and a unit of feeling have
nothing in common.
1 Ibid., vol. i. p. 159.
80 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
" Belief in the reality of self/' it is confessed by Mr. Spencer, is
" a belief which no hypothesis enables us to escape." : It is im
possible, he proceeds to argue, that the impressions and ideas
"which constitute consciousness" can be thought to be the only
existences; this is " really unthinkable." If there is an impres
sion, there is " something impressed." The sceptic must hold
that the ideas and impressions into which he has decomposed
consciousness are his ideas and impressions. Moreover, if he has
an impression of his personal existence, why reject this impres
sion alone as unreal? The belief in one's personal existence, Mr.
Spencer assures us, is "unavoidable"; it is indorsed by "the
assent of mankind at large"; it is indorsed, too, by the "suicide
of the sceptical argument against it." Yet the surprising decla
ration is added, that " reason rejects " this belief. Reason rejects
a belief which it is impossible to abandon, and against which the
adverse reasoning of the doubter shatters itself in pieces. On
what ground is this strange conclusion reached? Why, "the
cognition of self," it is asserted, is negatived by the laws of
thought. The condition of thought is the antithesis of subject
and object. Hence the mental act in which self is known implies
"a perceiving subject and a perceived object." If it is the true
self that thinks, what other self can it be that is thought of? If
subject and object are one and the same, thought is annihilated.
If the two factors of consciousness, the ego and the non-ego, are
irreducible, the reality of self is the natural inference. The " un
avoidable " belief that self is a reality is still further confirmed by
the absolute impossibility of thinking without attributing the act
to self.
But let us look at the psychological difficulty which moves Mr.
Spencer instantly to lay down his arms, and surrender an " un
avoidable " belief. In every mental act there is an implicit con
sciousness of self, whether the object is a thing external or a
mental affection. From this cognition of self there is no escape.
Suppose, now, that self is the direct object. To know is to dis
tinguish an object from other things, and from the knowing sub
ject. When self is the object, this distinguishing activity is exerted
by the subject, while the object is self, distinguished alike from
other things and from the distinguishing subject. The subject
distinguishes, the object differs in being distinguished or dis-
1 First Principles, 4th ed., p. 66,
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 8 1
cerned. Yet both subject and object, notwithstanding this formal
distinction, are known in consciousness as identical. If, again,
self as the subject of this activity is made the object, then it is to
one form of activity, distinguished in thought from the agent, that
attention is directed, while at the same time there is a conscious
ness that the distinction of the agent from the power or function
is in thought merely, not in reality. That self-consciousness is a
fact, every one can convince himself by looking within. No psy
chological objection, were it much more specious than the one just
noticed, could avail against an experience of the fact. We are
fortunately not called upon by logic to part with an " unavoida
ble " belief.1
To explain the complex operations of the intellect as due to a
combination of units of sensation is a task sufficiently arduous.
But, when it comes to the will and the moral feelings, the difficul
ties increase. The illusive idea of freedom, as was explained above,
is supposed by Mr. Spencer to spring from the supposition that
" the ego is something more than the aggregate of feelings and
ideas, actual and nascent, which then exists," -—exists at the
moment of action. The mistake is made of thinking that the ego
is anything but " the entire group of psychical states which con
stituted the action" supposed to be free.2 Yet the same writer
elsewhere, and with truth, asserts that this idea of the ego is
" verbally intelligible, but really unthinkable." 3
Mr. Spencer's system has been correctly described by Mansel
as a union of the Positivist doctrine, that we know only the
relations of phenomena, with the Pantheist assumption of the
name of God to denote the Substance or Power which lies beyond
phenomena.4 The doctrine, which is so essential in the system,
that mental phenomena emerge from nervous organism when it
reaches a certain point of development, is Materialistic. Motion,
heat, light, chemical affinity, Mr. Spencer holds, are transformable
into sensation, emotion, thought. He holds that no idea or feeling
1 This objection of Spencer is a part of Herbart's system. It is confuted by
Ulrici, Gott u. der Afensch, pp. 321, 322.
2 Principles of Psychology, vol. i. pp. 500, 501.
8 First Principles, 4th ed., p. 66.
4 The Philosophv of the Conditioned, p. 40. "The truth is that this new
philosophy owes its monism to the a priori speculations of Spinoza, while its
agnosticism is borrowed from Hume and Hume's successors." Ward, Nat
uralism and Agnosticism, vol. ii. p. 208.
82 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
arises save as a result of some physical force expended in produc
ing it. " How this metamorphosis takes place ; how a force
existing as motion, heat, or light, can become a mode of conscious
ness ; how it is possible for the forces liberated by chemical
changes in the brain to give rise to emotion, — these are mysteries
which it is impossible to fathom." ] They are mysteries which
ought to shake the writer's faith in the assumed fact which creates
them. If forces liberated by chemical action produce thought,
then thought, by the law of conservation, must exert the force
thus absorbed by it. This makes thought a link in the chain of
causes, giving to it an agency which the theory denies it to pos
sess. If chemical action does not " give rise to " thought, by
producing it, then it can only be an occasional cause, and the
efficient cause of thought is left untold. This evolution of mind
from matter as the prius, even though matter be defined as a mode
of "the Unknowable," and the subjection of mental phenomena
to material laws, stamp the system as essentially Materialistic.
" The strict mechanical necessity of the physical side is upheld,
and, as a consequence the spontaneity and purposiveness of the
psychical side is declared to be illusory, a thing to be explained
away." 2 The arguments which confute materialism are applicable
to it.
Underneath modern discussions on the grounds of religious
belief is the fundamental question as to the reality of human
knowledge. The doctrine of the relativity of knowledge has been
made one of the chief props of scepticism and atheism. If the
proposition that knowledge is relative, simply means that we can
know only through the organ of knowledge, it is a truism. We
can know nothing of the universe as a whole, or of anything in it,
beyond what the knowing agent by its constitution is capable of
discerning. The important question is, whether things are known
as they are, or whether they undergo a metamorphosis, converting
them into things unlike themselves, by being brought into contact
with the perceiving and thinking subject. It is tantamount to the
question whether our mental constitution is, or is not, an instru
ment for perceiving truth. The idealist would explain all the
objects of knowledge as modifications of the thinking subject.
Knowledge is thus made an inward process, having no real coun-
1 First Principles, 2cl ed., p. 217.
2 For the modification of Spencer's opinion, see Appendix, Note 6.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 83
terpart in a world without. Nothing is known, nothing exists,
beyond this internal process. Others, who stop short of Idealism,
attribute to the mind such a transforming work upon the objects
furnished it, or acting upon it from without, that their nature is
veiled from discovery. The mirror of consciousness is so made
that things reflected in it may, for aught we can say, lose all
resemblance to things in themselves. That which is true of sense-
perception, at least as regards the secondary qualities, color,
flavor, etc., — which are proximately affections of man's physical
organism, — is assumed to be true of all things and of their relations.
This is a denial of the reality of knowledge in the sense in which
the terms are taken by the common sense of mankind. The
doctrine was propounded in the maxim of the Sophist, Protagoras,
that " man is the measure of all things." 1
Locke made sensation the ultimate source of knowledge.
Berkeley withstood materialism by making sensations to be
affections of the spirit, ideas impressed by the will of God, acting
by uniform rule. Hume, from the premises of Locke, resolved
our knowledge into sensations, which combine in certain orders of
sequence, through custom, of which no explanation is to be given.
Customary association gives rise to the delusive notion of neces
sary ideas, — such as cause and effect, substance, power, the ego,
etc. Reid, through the doctrine of common sense, rescued
rational intuitions and human knowledge, which is built on them,
from the gulf of scepticism. There is another source of knowledge,
a subjective source, possessed of a self- verifying authority. Kant
performed a like service by demonstrating that space and time,
and the ideas of cause, substance, etc., the concepts or categories of
the understanding, are not the product of sense-perception. They
are necessary and universal ; not the product, but the condition,
of sense-perception. They are presupposed in our perceptions
and judgments. Moreover, Kant showed that there are ideas of
reason. The mind is impelled to unify the concepts of the under
standing by which it conceives, classifies, and connects the objects
of knowledge. These ideas are of the world as a totality, embrac
ing all phenomena, the ego or personal subject, and God, the
unconditioned ground of all possible existences.
But Kant founded a scepticism of a peculiar sort. Space, time,
and the categories, cause, substance, and the like, he made to be
purely subjective, characteristics of the thinker, and not of the
1 See Appendix, Note 7.
84 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
thing. They reveal to us, not things in themselves, but rather
the hidden mechanism of thought. Of the thing itself, the object
of perception, we only know its existence. Even this we cannot
affirm of the ego, which is not presented in sense-perception. The
same exclusively subjective validity belongs to the other ideas of
reason. They signify a tentative effort which is never complete.
They designate a nisus which is never realized. Since the con
cepts of the understanding are rules for forming and ordering the
materials furnished in sense-perception, they cannot be applied to
anything supersensible. The attempt to do so lands us in logical
contradictions, or antinomies, which is an additional proof that we
are guilty of an illegitimate procedure.
From the consequences of this organized scepticism, the nat
ural as well as actual outcome of which was the systems of Pan
theistic Idealism, Kant delivered himself by his doctrine of the
Practical Reason. He called attention to another department of
our nature. We are conscious of a moral law, an imperative man
date, distinguished from the desires, and elevated above them.
This implies, and compels us to acknowledge, the freedom of the
will, and our own personality which is involved in it. Knowing
that we are made for morality, and also for happiness, or that these
are the ends toward which the constitution of our nature points,
we must assume that there is a God by whose government these
ends are made to meet, and are reconciled in a future life. God,
free-will, and immortality are thus verified to us on practical
grounds. Religion is the recognition of the moral law as a divine
command. Religion and ethics are thus identified. Love, the
contents of the law, is ignored, or retreats into the background.
Rectitude in its abstract quality, or as an imperative mandate, is
the sum of virtue.
The doctrine of the relativity of knowledge is presented by Sir
William Hamilton in a form somewhat different from the Kantian
theory. The Infinite and the Absolute — existence uncondition
ally unlimited, and existence unconditionally limited — are neither
of them conceivable. For example, we cannot conceive of infinite
space, or of space so small that it cannot be divided ; we cannot
conceive of infinite increase or infinite division. Positive thought
is of things limited or conditioned. The object is limited by its
contrast with other things and by its relation to the subject. Only
as thus limited can it be an object of knowledge. The object in
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 85
sense-perception is a phenomenon of the non-ego ; the non-ego is
a reality, but is not known as it is in itself. Thought is shut up be
tween two inaccessible extremes. But although each is incon
ceivable, yet, since they are contradictories, one or the other must
be accepted. For example, space must be either infinite, or
bounded by ultimate limits. An essential point in Hamilton's
doctrine is the distinction between conception and belief. The
two are not coextensive. That may be an object of belief which
is not a concept. This distinction is elucidated by Mansel, who
says, " We may believe that a thing is, without being able to con
ceive how it is." "I believe in an infinite God; i.e. I believe
that God is infinite. I believe that the attributes which I ascribe
to God exist in him in an infinite degree. Now, to believe this
proposition, I must be conscious of its meaning ; but I am not
therefore conscious of the infinite God as an object of concep
tion ; for this would require, further, an apprehension of the man
ner in which these infinite attributes coexist so as to form one
object." l But in this case do I not know the meaning of " infi
nite"? Does it not signify more than the absence of imaginable
limit, a mere negation of power in me? Does it not include the
positive idea, that there is no limit? In the case of opposite in-
conceivables, extraneous considerations, according to Hamilton,
determine which ought to be believed. Both necessity and free
dom are inconceivable, since one involves an endless series, the
other a new commencement; but moral feeling — self-approba
tion, remorse, the consciousness of obligation — oblige us to be
lieve in freedom, although we cannot conceive of it as possible.
The fact is an object of thought, and so far intelligible, but not
the quo modo. This dilemma in which we are placed, where we
have to choose between two contradictory inconceivables, does
not imply that our reason is false, but that it is weak, or limited
in its range. When we attempt to conceive of the Infinite and
the Absolute, we wade beyond our depth. They are terms signi
fying, not thought, but the negation of thought. Our belief in the
existence of God and in his perfection rests on the suggestions
and demands of our moral nature. In this general view Hamilton
was in accord with Kant. Mr. Mansel differed from Sir William
Hamilton in holding that we have an intuition of the ego as an
entity, and in holding that the idea of cause is a positive notion,
1 The Philosophy of the Conditioned, pp. 127, 129; cf. pp. 18 seq.
86 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
and not a mere inability to conceive of a new beginning, or of an
addition to the sum of existence. But Mr. Mansel applied the
doctrine of relativity to our knowledge of God, which was thus
made to be only anthropopathic, approximative, symbolic ; and
he founded our belief in God ultimately on conscience and
the emotions.1
Under the auspices of James Mill, and of his son John Stuart
Mill, the philosophical speculations of Hume were revived. Intui
tions are affirmed to be empirical in their origin. They are im
pressions, which through the medium of sense-perception, and
under the laws of association, stamp themselves upon us in early
childhood, and thus wear the semblance of a priori ideas. But
this is only a semblance. There are, possibly, regions in the uni
verse where two and two make five. Causation is nothing but
uniformity of sequence. The Positivist theory of J. S. Mill led
him to the conclusion that matter is only " the permanent possi
bility of sensations"; but all these groups of possibilities which
constitute matter are states of the ego. And Mill was only pre
vented from concluding that the mind is nothing but a bundle of
sensations by the intractable facts of memory. On his view o;
mind and matter, it is impossible to see how a man can know the
existence of anybody but himself. He says that he does " not
believe that the real externality to us of anything except other
minds is capable of proof." But as we become acquainted with
the existence of other minds only as we perceive their bodies,
and since this perception must be held to be, like all our percep
tions of matter, only a group of sensations, we have no proof that
such bodies exist.
The Agnostic scheme of Herbert Spencer accords with the the
ory of Hume and Mill in tracing intuitions to an empirical source.
But the experience which gives them being is not that of the indi
vidual, but of the race. Heredity furnishes the clew to the solu
tion of the problem of their emergence in the consciousness of
the individual. He inherits the acquisitions of remote ancestors.
Then the notion of energy is superadded to the Positivist creed.
With it comes the postulate of a primal Power, of which we are
said to have an indefinite consciousness, or "the Unknowable,"
— the Pantheistic tenet grafted on Positivism. The doctrine of
the relativity of knowledge is taken up from Hamilton and Man-
1 Respecting Matthew Arnold's conception of God, see Appendix, Note 8.
THE PRINCIPAL ANTI-THEISTIC THEORIES 87
sel as the ground of nescience respecting realities as distinct from
phenomena, and respecting God. The facts of conscience which
have furnished to Kant and Hamilton, and to deep-thinking phi
losophers generally who have advocated the relativity of knowl
edge, a foundation for belief in free-will and for faith in God,
meet with no adequate recognition. Little account is made of
moral feeling, and its necessary postulates are discarded as
fictions.
Our knowledge of God is knowledge and not an illusive sem
blance of knowledge. It is not meant that our knowledge is
commensurate with the object — the infinite and absolute Being.
The question of Zophar, " Canst thou by searching find out
God?" is explained by what immediately follows, "Canst thou
find out the Almighty to perfection?" Knowledge may be very
limited, yet real as far as it goes. But it is not even meant that
the present forms of our knowledge of God correspond literally to
the reality. With the expansion of knowledge, the symbols that
now express it may be modified, may even be superseded. What
is meant, in opposition to Agnosticism, is that they are substan
tially true. In them the reality is bodied forth up to the measure
of our finite capacity at this stage of our existence. This position is
at a world-wide remove from that sort of Agnosticism — that spe
cies of phenomenalism — which can be called knowledge only by
an utter perversion of the ordinary understanding of the word.
A very acute critic of Mr. Spencer, speaking of his use of the
distinction of appearance and reality, a " distinction which has ever
been the stronghold of Agnosticism," and of his confining strict
knowledge to " appearances behind which God remains wholly
and forever concealed as Inscrutable Reality," writes thus: "We
have allowed that strict knowing, if it is to mean the resolution of
the course of Nature into coexistence and succession, and these
again into a world-formula in terms of matter and motion, does
not reveal God at all, or mind of any sort. . . . But if we de
cline to call anything an appearance, unless it is either perceived
or perceptible, why then should we attach to it the bad sense of
concealing, rather than the good sense of revealing? Why should
appearances not be reality? How can reality appear, shine forth,
and yet remain totally and forever beyond the knowledge of those
to whom it appears? Let us turn, as we have done before, to
88 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the case we know best — the communication of one human mind
with another. Assuming good faith, we never regard a man's acts
and utterances as masking, but rather as manifesting the man. If
they mask when it is his intention to deceive, surely they cannot
also mask when his intentions are the precise opposite. These
acts and utterances may be beyond the comprehension of men on
a lower intellectual level, and with narrower horizons, but they are
not the less real and true on that account. And why should we
argue differently, when reflection leads us to see in a universe de
clared to be ' everywhere alive ' the manifestations of a Supreme
Mind?"1
The rescue of philosophy from its aberrations must begin in a
full and consistent recognition of the reality of knowledge. Intui
tions are the counterpart of realities. The categories are objec
tive ; they are modes of existence as well as modes of knowledge.
Distinct as mind and nature are, there is such an affinity in the
constitution of both, and such an adaptation of each to each, that
knowledge is not a bare product of subjective activity, but a reflex
of reality. Dependent existences imply independent self-existent
Being. The postulate of all causal connection discerned among
finite things is the First Cause. From the will we derive our
notion of causation. Among dependent existences the will is the
only fountain of power of which we have any experience. It is
reasonable to believe that the First Cause is a Will. The First
Cause is disclosed as personal in conscience, to which our wills
are subject. The law as an imperative impulse to free action
and as a preappointed end implies that the First Cause is Personal.
Order and design in the world without — not found there merely,
but instinctively sought there — corroborate the evidence of God,
whose being is implied in our self-consciousness, and whose holy
authority is manifest in conscience.
1 Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism , vol. ii. p. 275.
CHAPTER IV
THE DIVINE ORIGIN OF CHRISTIANITY EVINCED IN ITS ADAPTEDNESS
TO THE DEEPEST NECESSITIES OF MAN
EVERY religion has to undergo a practical test. It verifies or
disproves itself in the degree in which it answers to the spiritual
nature and wants of man. Christianity -does not come forward as
a new philosophy having for its primary end the solving of specu
lative problems. It professes, to be sure, to be in accord with
reason. It claims to rest upon a truly rational conception of the
universal system of which man is a component part. But it also
founds its title to confidence on more practical grounds. It ap
peals immediately to the conscience and the affections. It calls
for a rectification of the will. It promises to minister to necessi
ties of human nature which pertain in common to men of the
most exalted intelligence and to minds of the humblest cast. In
its adaptedness to such deep-felt necessities, which spring out of
man's constitution and condition, which cleave to him as a finite,
moral, responsible being who looks forward to death, and, with
more or less of hope or of clread, to a life hereafter— in this
adaptedness lies a proof of its truth and supernatural parent
age. If Christianity is found to be matched to human nature as
no other system can pretend to be, and as cannot be accounted
for by any wisdom of which man of himself is capable, then we
are justified in referring it to God as its author. In the propor
tion in which this fitness of Christianity to the constitution, the
cravings, the distress, of the soul, to man's highest and holiest as
pirations, becomes a matter of living experience, the force of the
argument will be appreciated. It will be understood in the de
gree in which it is felt. Here the data of the inference are
drawn from experiences of the heart. The impressions which
carry one to this conclusion are contingent on the state of the
sensibility, the activity and health of conscience, and the bent of
the will. The conclusion itself is one to which the soul advances
89
90 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
spontaneously ; one in which, rational though it be, the affections
and the will are the determining factors.
There is in the human spirit a profound need of God. This
grows out of the fact that we are not only finite, but consciously
finite, and not sufficient for ourselves. But, whether the source of
it is reflected on or not, this need of a connection with the
Eternal and Divine is felt. In reality, the hunger for God,
whether it be consciously recognized or not, is deeper in the
heart than any other want of human nature; for example, than
the instinct that craves friendship, or that impels to the creation
of domestic ties, or that inspires a thirst for knowledge. The need
of God may be, it often is, latent, undefined. It stirs in the soul
below the clear light of consciousness. Its very vagueness has the
effect to send man off in pursuit of a variety of finite objects, which
are sought for the sake of filling the void, the true "significance of
which is not yet discerned. Now it is wealth, now it is honor and
fame and power, now it is the acquisitions of science. Or it may
be sensual pleasure, or the entertainment afforded by social inter
course, or any one of myriad sorts of diversion. The different
sorts of earthly good, when worthy of esteem, are estimated be
yond the value which experience finds in them. When they are
gained, disappointment ensues. The void within is not filled.
If these remarks are commonplace, their very triteness demon
strates their truth. In childhood, we find the world into which
life is opening sufficient. We do not tire of its novelty. The
future stretches before us with a seemingly infinite attraction.
The charm of mystery is spread over it. The scene captivates by
its variety. In the human beings about us, in the spectacles pre
sented for the eye to gaze on, in the work and in the play that
await us at each day's dawn, there is enough. It is only in excep
tional instances, in the case of unusually thoughtful and deep-souled
children, that there appears a sacred discontent with the things
that are comprised in the life about them. When we emerge out
of immaturity, there will arise within us a sense of the unsatisfacto-
riness of existence — a feeling not in the least cynical, not always,
certainly, due to disappointments, though experiences of hardship
and bereavement, or of whatever makes the heart ache, do cer
tainly aggravate the discontent of the soul. It may be that there
will coexist an inexpressible feeling of loneliness. There is a
reaching out for something larger than human love can provide,
ADAPTEDNESS TO HUMAN NECESSITIES 9 1
and for something which human love, when tasted to the full,
leaves unsupplied. Study, travel, absorption in pleasant labor,
experiments in quest of happiness from this or that source, much
as they may do to drive away temporarily the feeling of want, fail
to pacify it permanently. A thirst, slaked for the day, revives on
the morrow. There is a cry in the soul, even if not so articulate
as to be distinctly heard by the soul itself, to which the world
makes no response. Gifted minds which of set purpose shut their
ears to this voice within have their moments in which they cannot
avoid hearing it. Goethe is one of the most prominent examples
of the deliberate purpose to confine the attention within the finite
realm, and to live upon the delights of art, literature, science, love.
Whatever could disturb the repose of the spirit, the dark side of
mortal experience, harassing questions respecting the future, he
would banish from thought. Yet this serene man said to his
friend : " I have ever been esteemed one of fortune's chiefest favor
ites ; nor can I complain of the course my life has taken. Yet,
truly, there has been nothing but toil and care; and in my sev
enty-fifth year I may say that I have never had four weeks of gen
uine pleasure. The stone was ever to be rolled up anew."1 Rest
was not attained. There was a lurking sense that the peace which
came and went had no perennial source. " We may lean for a
while," he once said, " on our brothers and friends, be amused by
acquaintances, rendered happy by those we love ; but in the end
man is always driven back upon himself. And it seems as if the
divinity had so placed himself in relation to man as not always to
respond to his reverence, trust, and love ; at least in the terrible
moment of need." "There had then been," writes Mr. Hutton,
in his thoughtful Essay on Goethe, " there had then been a
time when the easy familiarity with which the young man scruti
nized the universe had been exchanged for the humble glance of
the heart-stricken child ; and he had shrunk away from that time
(as he did from every hour of life when pain would have probed
to the very bottom the secrets of his nature), to take refuge in the
exercise of a faculty which would have been far stronger and purer,
had it never helped him to evade those awful pauses in existence
when alone the depths of our personal life lie bare before the in
ward eye, and we start to see both ' whither we are going, and
whence we came.' Goethe deliberately turned his back upon
1 Eckermann, Conversations of Goethe, p. 76.
92 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
those inroads which sin and death make into our natural habits
and routine. From the pleading griefs, from the challenging guilt,
from the warning shadows, of his own past life, he turned reso
lutely away, like his own Faust, to the alleviating occupations of
the present. Inch by inch he contested the inroads of age upon
his existence, striving to banish the images of new graves from his
thoughts long before his nature had ceased to quiver with the
shock of parting ; never seemingly for a moment led by grief to take
conscious refuge in the love of God and his hopes of a hereafter." l
It is sometimes made a reproach to Christianity that it is a
refuge of the weak, the disappointed, the desponding. But a
full proportion of its disciples have been won from the ranks of
men of even marked virility. But the question is whether the
realities of existence are not best discerned from the point of
view gained by those who have experience of pain — whether the
mental vision of such is not clearer.
Not long after the death of his wife, Thomas Carlyle wrote to
his friend, Erskine of Linlathen, as follows : —
"'Our Father which art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy
kingdom come, thy will be done,' — what else can we say ? The other
night, in my sleepless tossings about, which were growing more and
more miserable, these words, that brief and grand prayer, came strangely
into my mind, with an altogether new emphasis, as if written and shin
ing for me in mild pure splendor on the black bosom of the night
there ; when I, as it were, read them, word by word, with a sudden
check to my imperfect wanderings, with a sudden softness of composure
that was most unexpected. Not perhaps for thirty or forty years had
I ever formally repeated that prayer ; nay, I never felt before how in
tensely the voice of man's soul it is, — the inmost aspiration of all that is
high and pious in poor human nature ; right worthy to be recommended
with an, 'After this manner pray ye.' "
The just criticism of Goethe brings us to another deep feeling
of the human soul, — a more solemn experience, a more imperi
ous need. The yearning of the finite soul for an infinite good
is not its most agonizing emotion. The craving which an intelli
gent creature, however pure, would feel, — the craving for an
object commensurate with its boundless desires, — is far from
comprising the whole need of man. A self-accusation, more
over, sooner or later, with more or less persistency, haunts the
1 Hutton's Essays, vol. ii. {Liter ary}) p. 77.
ADAPTEDNESS TO HUMAN NECESSITIES 93
*soul. It may exist only as an uneasy suspicion. It will fre
quently arise in connection with special instances of wrong-doing,
or of neglect of duty in relation to other men. One finds himself
reproached within for being selfish in his conduct. The con
sciousness of secret purposes which his moral sense condemns
inspires him with a feeling of unworthiness and of shame. He
falls below his own ideals ; he detects in himself a lack of courage,
of truth, of purity, of magnanimity, of loyalty to the just claims
of relatives, or of neighbors, or of society at large. Epochs are
reached in the course of life when, as he glances backward over a
long period, cherished habits of feeling rise in memory to con
demn him. Self-accusation may go so far as to induce self-loath
ing. The more he probes his own character, the more aware does
he become that there is something perverse at the very core.
He is living to the world, is making the good which the world
yields, or self-gratification in a more gross or more refined form,
the goal and end of his striving. Not only is he without God, he
is alienated from him ; and in this alienation, carrying in it an
idolatry of the creature and of finite good, he discerns the root of
the evil that is in him. Then the sense of guilt attaches itself to
the impiety or ungodliness out of which, as an innermost fountain,
flows a defiled stream of ethical misconduct. We are drawing
no fancy picture. The sense of unworthiness is not a morbid
experience. It is not confined to transient moods ; it is not
limited to characters of exceptional depravity ; it does not belong
alone to men of the spiritual elevation of Pascal and Luther,
of Augustine and Edwards ; it does not pertain to one nation
exclusively, or to any single branch of the human family ; it is
not an artificial product of the teaching of Christianity, or of any
other of the religions that have prevailed on the earth. It is a
human experience, giving, therefore, the most diversified mani
festations of its presence in the confessions of individuals, in
poetry, and in other forms of literature, in penances, sacrifices,
and other rites of worship. The " whole world is guilty before
God," and in varying degrees sensible of the fact, despite the
obtuseness of conscience which the practice of evil-doing engen
ders, the natural efforts to stifle so humiliating and painful an
emotion, the partially successful devices to divert the attention
from it, and the sophistry which labors to make it seem unreal.1
1 On this subject, see Appendix, Note 9.
94 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Then the sense of being without God is converted into a sense
of estrangement from Him. The feeling of responsibleness for
sin, while it brings God more vividly to mind, awakens the con
sciousness of being excluded from communion with Him. The
sense of condemnation drives one away from God, and yet com
pels the thought of Him. The soul hides itself " among the
trees of the garden," yet is followed, and held, and mysteriously
attracted by the offended Being from whom it has chosen to
separate itself.
Besides a sense of unworthiness there is a consciousness of
bondage. It may be that particular habits, which the will has
suffered to gain control, have now come to be felt as a chain.
Sensual appetite in one form or another, vanity, ungovern
able resentment, covetousness, or some other base purpose or
corrupt form of conduct — may have established a mastery, which,
when the conviction of guilt arises, and with it discontent, is felt
as a galling tyranny. If there be no single predominant passion,
the general principle of worldliness which has enthroned the crea
ture in the place of the Creator oppresses the soul that has now
awoke to a perception of its culpable and abnormal state. Strug
gles to break loose from the yoke of habit — which has become
bound up with the laws of association that determine the current
of thought, has enslaved the affections, and taken captive the will
— prove ineffectual. "What I would, that do I not; but what I
hate, that do I " ; or, as the heathen poet expresses it, —
"Video meliora proboque ;
Deteriora sequor."
Of course the struggle against inward evil may be weak, but in
strong and earnest natures it may amount to an agony. The
insurrection against the power to which the will has yielded itself
may rend the soul as a kingdom is torn by civil strife. The
unaided effort at self-emancipation turns out to be fruitless. It is
the vain struggle of Laocoon in the coils of the serpent. It may
end in a despairing submission to the enemy.
But this description does not complete the account of the experi
ence of the soul in its relations to God, as long as it is yet practi
cally ignorant of the gospel. The misery of human life must be
taken into consideration. Where there is youth, health, prosperity,
and the buoyancy of spirits which is natural under these circum-
ADAPTEDNESS TO HUMAN NECESSITIES 95
stances, there is commonly but a slight appreciation of the count
less forms of distress from which even the most favored class of
mankind do not escape. It is possible, to be sure, to understate
the amount of happiness in the world of mankind. That there is
no sunshine in human life, even in situations that are adverse,
only a cynic would be disposed to deny. But he is equally blind
to facts who fails to recognize that the earthly life of men is a
scene which abounds in trouble, in pain of body and anguish of
spirit, in hearts lacerated by fellow-beings who have been loved and
trusted, made sore by bereavement, anxious with numberless cares,
often weary or half-weary with the burden of toil and the bitter
ness of grief. Then there approaches every household and every
individual the dark shadow of death. The love of life is an instinct
so strong that only in exceptional cases is it fully overborne by
the pressure of despondency. Yet death stands waiting. More
than half of the race expire in infancy. Before every individual
is the prospect of this inevitable event, which he endeavors to
avert and to postpone as long as possible, all the while, however,
aware that his painstaking will at length be fruitless. The feelings
sketched above are not peculiar to any single generation. They
are not the result, as they are sometimes said to be, of a gloom
engendered by Christian teaching. He who imagines that life of
old was nothing but sunshine, has forgotten his Homer and a thou
sand pathetic laments strewn through the noblest literature of
antiquity.
None but the superstitious consider that pain and affliction are
distributed in strict proportion to transgression, and that the hap
piest lot falls uniformly to the least unworthy. But, while this
notion is abandoned as a falsehood of superstition, we may recog
nize in it the distortion of a truth which is embedded in the con
victions of mankind, — the truth that natural evil and moral evil
are connected in the system of things ; that one is the concomitant
and shadow of the other ; that suffering, to a large extent, to
say the least, is a part of a retributive order. Certain it is, that
pain and sorrow tend to provoke self-judgment and that feeling of
ill-desert which is inseparable from conscious impiety and self
ishness. The presage of judgment arises spontaneously in the
soul. Especially the prospect of death is apt to excite remorseful
apprehension. The vivid presentiment of retribution to come, or
an undefined dread of this nature, springs up unbidden in the
96 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
mind, in the presence of that solemn crisis which breaks up our
present form of being, and sends the spirit out of its fleshly tene
ment into the world beyond. To a mind haunted by reproaches
of conscience, death itself wears a penal aspect ; it is felt to be
something incongruous, a violent rupture of a bond, which, if dis
solved at all, we might look to see loosened by a gentler process,
by a transition not attended with the pangs of dissolution.
When the moral and spiritual perceptions have thus been
quickened, the mind is struck with the fact that Christianity, as set
forth in the Scriptures, recognizes to the full extent all the facts
which it has been aroused to discern. Not only are they admitted
in the Scriptures, and spread out with no attempt to disguise
them : they are insisted on, and are set forth with a startling im-
pressiveness. An individual thus awakened to the realities of exist
ence finds depicted there man's need of God, — his thirst for
God, — and the futility of seeking to slake the thirst of the soul for
the Infinite from any earthly fountains of pleasure. " Why do ye
spend money for that which is not bread ? " What is unworthy in
human character and conduct he finds proclaimed there with a
piercing emphasis. There is no extenuation of human guilt,
whether as connected with immorality or with ungodliness. Every
disguise is stripped off. The actual condition of men, as regards
the sufferings to which all are exposed, and those from which none
escape, is very often referred to and is everywhere latently assumed.
Death is held up to view as the goal which all are approaching. The
real source of the " sting of death " is brought out. The forebod
ing of conscience, the product of the sense of ill desert, is dis
tinctly sanctioned in a solemn affirmation of coming judgment. In
short, the malady of the soul, in all its characteristic features, is laid
bare in a way to evoke and intensify the spiritual needs and fears
which have been adverted to. This outspokenness of the Bible,
this unmasking of the evil and of the danger, invites confidence.
The diagnosis is unsparing. It suggests at least the hope that
where the disorder is so fully understood, an adequate remedy
will not be wanting.
The need of the soul is RECONCILIATION. This is the first want
of which it is conscious. It needs to be brought near to God,
and into personal communion with Him, through Forgiveness. It
needs, moreover, help from without, that it may subdue the prin
ciple of sin and attain the freedom of a willing loyalty. It needs
ADAPTEDNESS TO HUMAN NECESSITIES 97
deliverance from death, as far as death is an object of dread either
in itself or for what is feared in connection with it.
How can one who is in this mood fail to be deeply impressed at
the outset by the circumstance, that, while the Scriptures assert
without palliation the guilt of sin and the righteous displeasure of
God on account of it, they at the same time announce, not an
inevitable perdition, but a complete rescue? There is a procla
mation of " good tidings." First, there is the momentous an
nouncement of a merciful Approach made by God to the race
of mankind. This simple declaration, apart from methods and
details, will excite a profound interest. The initiative in the work
of deliverance has been taken by Him from whom alone forgive
ness and deliverance can proceed. Then comes the explicit an
nouncement of a mission of a SAVIOUR. There is a manifestation
of God to men through a man ; a man, yet in such an intimacy
of union to God, that his most fit designation is " the Son of God,"
— a union such that no one knows the Father but the Son, and
whoever has seen him may be said to have seen the Father, — a
union the mysterious springs of which precede his life among
men. He brings a proclamation of the pardon of sin. The
fatherliness of God, never absolutely withdrawn by Him who is
" kind to the evil and the unthankful," is brought into the fore
ground. Ill-desert is to be no barrier to the coming back of the
estranged to the Father's house and heart. Death need no longer
be an object of dismal foreboding. It is converted into a door
way to an immortal life hereafter. All this is said by the divine
Messenger. But the redemption thus declared is represented as
achieved by him. A man among men, born of woman, subject
like ourselves to temptation, absolutely identifying himself with
his race in sympathy, not less than with the condemnation felt by
God for the sin of mankind, he makes a free, absolute surrender
of his own will to the Father's will, with every new access of trial
raises this surrender to a higher pitch, carries human nature vic
toriously through life, and through the anguish of an undeserved
death, — the final test of loyalty to God and of devotion to men,
willingly endured because it is a cup given him of the Father
to drink. In that death is the life of the world. Here is the
response of Christianity to the call of the conscience and heart
for an Atonement for sin. Through death the Saviour rises to a
consummated life, invisible, — to the vantage-ground whence to ex-
H
98 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
tend his life-giving power to draw men to himself and to make
them partakers of his own perfection, to begin now and to be fully
realized hereafter.
Jesus came to plant within the soul a life of filial union to God.
In the assured confidence and peace of that life there would be a
conscious superiority to the world, an independence of the changes
and chances of this mortal state. In that life of heavenly trust,
fears and anxieties of an earthly nature would lose their power to
break the calm of the spirit. There would inhere in it a power to
overcome the world. Resentful passions would die out in the rec
ollection of the heavenly Father's patience and forgiving love, and
in the sense of the inestimable worth and the possibility of perfec
tion that belong to every soul, however unworthy. A secret life,
serene in the midst of sorrow and danger, a perennial fountain of
rest, and stimulus to kindly and beneficent exertion, — such was
the gift of Christ to men. " My peace I give unto you." This
life he first realized in himself. He maintained and perfected it
through conflict. He imparts it through the channel of personal
union and fellowship.1 Christian serenity leaves room for the full
flow and warmth of all human sympathies and affections. The
follower of Christ is empowered to use the world without abusing
it, or being enslaved to it. He is not obliged to fling away the
good gifts of God ; but, by making them servants instead of mas
ters, he can enjoy, and yet can forego, that which he possesses.
He carries within him a treasure sufficient when all else is lost.
How shall this adaptedness in Christianity to man's spiritual
being be accounted for? Can it be attributed to the Nazarene
and to the group of fishermen who followed him, they being
credited with no more than a merely human insight? Is
there not reason to conclude that a higher than human agency,
even a divine wisdom and will, was active in this great movement?
Leaving out of view other kinds of proof, as that from testimony
to miracles, the practical argument for the supernatural origin of
Christianity, from its proving itself the counterpart of human need
and the satisfaction of the soul's highest aspirations, is one difficult
to controvert. It is of a piece with the response of the man
born blind, who replied to the objections of the Pharisees,
" Whether he be a sinner or no, I know not : one thing I know,
that, whereas I was blind, now I see." 2
1 As set forth in that classic, The Imitation of Christ, 2 John ix. 25.
THE DIVINE MISSION OF JESUS ATTESTED BY THE TRANSFORMING
AGENCY OF CHRISTIANITY IN HUMAN SOCIETY
IN the preceding chapter we have touched on the adaptedness
of Christianity to minister to the needs and yearnings of the in
dividual. We have now to glance at the power and beneficence
of Christianity as evinced in the broader field of history.
Not the supernatural origin of a religion, nor even its truth, can
be decided by the number of its adherents : else Buddhism, with
its four hundred and fifty millions, would hold the vantage-ground
over against Christianity with its four hundred millions ; and Mo
hammedanism, with its one hundred and seventy-five millions,
might put in a plausible claim to a higher than human derivation.
It is necessary to consider in what way the converts of a religion
have been won. Mohammedanism was a fanatical crusade against
idolatry, that achieved its success by the sword and by the fierce
energy with which it was wielded. Force was exerted, to some
extent, for the spread of Christianity by the successors of Constan-
tine ; and force has been exerted in other instances, like that of
the conquest of the Saxons by Charlemagne : yet there is no
doubt that coercion — which, it may be observed, was used in the
cause of Buddhism by the kings who embraced it — has, on the
whole, hindered, instead of helped on, the progress of the gospel.
The victory of the religion of the cross in the Roman Empire
was really gained by moral means. The reactionary movement
of Julian proved futile, for the reason that the faith which it at
tempted to succor was in a moribund state. When we consider the
small beginnings of Christianity, in its Galilean birthplace, and
watch its progress against the organized and violent opposition of
Judaism, and the successive attempts to extirpate it made by im
perial Rome, from the cruelties of Nero and Domitian to the sys
tematic persecution by Diocletian, its triumph over the ancient
heathenism excites a wonder that is not lessened by theories which
99
100 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
have been invented to explain it. All the proximate causes of
the downfall and disappearance of the Graeco-Roman religion,
through the preaching of the gospel, presuppose behind them, as
the ultimate cause, the personal influence of Jesus Christ and his
life and death. When we see the same gospel, amid the ruins of
the Roman Empire, subduing to itself the victorious barbarian
tribes by whom it was overthrown, we get a new impression of
the mysterious efficacy that resides in it. An Asiatic religion in
its origin, it became the religion of Europe. Yet its adaptedness
to races beyond the limits of the Aryan peoples has likewise been
fully demonstrated.
But in order to complete the argument for the truth and divine
origin of Christianity, drawn from its effect, we must go farther,
and investigate the particular character of that effect. The impres
sion which the spread of the other religions — whether the national
faiths, like the native religions of China, or the universal systems,
Mohammedanism and Buddhism — might leave upon us is largely
neutralized when we mark the character and limit of the influence
exerted by them on human nature, culture, and civilization. We
may, to be sure, recognize enough of good to prove that those
religions inculcated important truths. We may discern a value
in the moral and religious sentiments which they partially express
and respond to. But the idea that any of those religions is the
absolute religion, or the religion revealed from Heaven to be
the perpetual light of men, is dispelled the moment we find that
the work wrought by them upon the human soul is one-sided and
defective, and that their final result is an arrested development.
The individual is impelled forward to a certain limit. There he
halts. Even deterioration may ensue. The nation feels a trans
forming agency for a time, but at length it reaches an impassable
barrier. An imperfect civilization becomes petrified. Christian
ity, on the contrary, never appears to have exhausted its power.
It moves in advance, and beckons forward the individual and the
people who embrace it. When it is misconceived in some respect,
and a partly perverted development ensues, it frequently develops
a rectifying power. It forever instigates to reform : its only goal
is perfection.
We are not to forget that gradualness in the transforming
effect of the Gospel is the character attributed by Jesus himself
to its progress and influence in the world. It was to be first the
POWER OF CHRISTIANITY TO TRANSFORM SOCIETY IOI
blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear.1 It was to grow
as the seed of the mustard plant.2 It was to operate in the heart
of society, on its institutions, habits, and sentiments, like the yeast
hidden in the " measures of meal."3
Moreover, the consequence of this nature of the gospel — of
what seems a slow conquest and spread, of the imperfect discern
ment of its meaning, and the moral defects of its disciples — was
foreseen and predicted.4 It is to be remembered that their sins as
individuals, and especially crimes committed, even such as cruel
persecution of fellow-Christians, are chargeable not to real Christi
anity, but to misconceptions of it.
We are not to forget, of course, that Christendom is something
besides a religion. It is composed of particular races — races hav
ing distinctive traits which have entered as one factor into the
spiritual life and the civilization of this society of peoples. They
have inherited from the past, especially from the Roman Empire
and the cultivated nations of antiquity, invaluable elements of polity
and culture. The Teutonic peoples were specially hospitable to the
religion of the gospel. They were docile, as well as virile. They
had these native traits to begin with : they received much, besides
the gift of Christian faith, from those whom they conquered. Yet it
is Christianity which leavened all. It is Christianity which fused,
moulded, trained, the European nations. It is in the light of
Christianity that their vigorous life unfolded itself. In that light
it still flourishes.
Jesus Christ brought into the world a new ideal of man — man
individual and man social. This was not all. Had this been all,
the condition of men might not have been materially altered. Fie
brought in at the same time a force adequate to effect — though
not magically, but by slow degrees — the realization of this ideal.
It is in its double character — in the perfection of the moral ideal,
and in the wonderful stimulus to the practical realization of it —
that the transcendent superiority of the Christian religion is mani
fest. The sages of antiquity presented high though always imper
fect conceptions of what man and society should be ; but those
conceptions remained inoperative. They did not avail for the
elevation of many individuals even. Their effect on social and
political life was small. Culture was attained by the intellectual
and versatile Greek, but the ideal of manhood was faulty. Truth-
1 Mark iv. 28. 2 Matt. xiii. 32. 3 Ibid., 33. 4 Ibid., 34 seq.
102 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
fulness, " the gold of character," was not one of his characteristic
virtues. There was no life-giving force to save the Greek from
degeneracy and corruption. No more was there a saving power
in the law and polity which Rome created. Neither Greek learn
ing and philosophy, nor Roman politics and jurisprudence, could
rescue mankind from degradation, or even keep up what power
they had exerted.
With Christ there came in a nobler ideal and a force to lift men
up to it. That force resided in Jesus himself. The central thought
of Jesus was religion — man's relation to God. Take out this idea
of man's true life as consisting in that filial relation to the heavenly
Father, and the vital principle is lost from the system of Jesus.
The sources of its power are dried up : the root is dead, and the
branches wither away.
For with this idea is inseparably connected his estimate of the
worth of the soul. Every individual, according to the teaching of
Christ, has an incalculable worth. This does not depend on his
outward condition. Lazarus, the beggar at the gate, was on a
footing of equality with Dives at his luxurious table. To the sur
prise of the disciples, Jesus conversed with a peasant woman at
a well. What was a woman, and a poor woman, even a depraved
woman, that the Master should waste time in order to enlighten
her ? Little children he took in his arms when the disciples " for
bade them." It was not the will of the Father that one of these
little ones should perish. The transgressor of human and divine
law, the male or female outcast — he saw in each something of
imperishable value. With this idea of the worth of man, there is
associated the recognition of every individual as an end in himself.
No man is made merely to enhance the interests, or minister to
the gratification, of another man. " Thou shalt love thy neighbor
as thyself" He is the greatest who has most of the spirit of
self-sacrifice. For one man to use another man or a woman as an
instrument of his own pleasure or advancement, is an act of incon
ceivable cruelty and baseness. The equality of men as regards
worth or value, be their talents, property, station, power, or con
dition in any particular what they may, is a cardinal truth. It is
a deduction from their common relation, as creatures and children,
to God, and from the common benefit of redemption, in which all
alike share. In the community of God's children there was no
distinction of bondman or freeman, rich or poor, male or female,
POWER OF CHRISTIANITY TO TRANSFORM SOCIETY 103
Greek or barbarian. All — be their nationality that of the strong
and intellectual branches of mankind, or of those little esteemed ;
be their lot among the prosperous or the unfortunate — are on a
level. They are " brethren."
The Christian ideal embraced the sanctification of the entire life.
It did not subvert established relations between man and man, as
far as they were conformed to nature and right. It infused into
them a new spirit. It set to work not to pull down, but to purify,
the family and the state, and to raise each of these institutions to
the ideal standard. Each was to be led to fulfil its true function,
and to become a fountain of the highest possible beneficence.
One of the great changes which Christianity made, and is mak
ing, in the family, is the abolition of domestic tyranny. The
authority of the father in ancient Rome, as in many other nations,
was without limit. As far as restraints of law were concerned, he
was a despot in the household. He had over its members the
right to inflict death. From the time of the introduction of Chris
tianity, the authority of the father began to be reduced. In the
second century the paternal prerogative, the patria protestas,
was curtailed in the Roman law. The Stoic ethical teaching
contributed to this result, as to other humane reforms. How far
milder sentiments that were shared by the Stoics in the early
Christian centuries were unconsciously imbibed from the gospel,
which was already active in modifying the atmosphere of thought
and feeling, is a question difficult to settle. This is certain, that
Christian teaching from the beginning tended strongly to such a
result, and evidently, at a later date, had a powerful effect. The
more Christianity gained influence, the position of the wife in rela
tion to the husband's will and control was wholly changed for the
better. The freedom of divorce which existed by Roman law and
custom met in the precepts of Christ and in the teaching of the
Church a stern rebuke. The wife could no longer be discarded in
obedience to the husband's caprice. Marriage became a sacred
bond — a bond, except for one cause, indissoluble. Of the im
measurable influence which the religion of Jesus has exerted in
shielding the purity of woman, it is needless to speak. The power
which the unsparing injunctions of the Sermon on the Mount have
exercised for the defence of the helpless and innocent against law
less passion, it would be impossible to estimate. As fast as Chris
tianity spread, respect for the rights of woman extended. The
104 THE GROUNDS OF THE1STIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
more deeply Christianity leavens society, the more does all unjust
discrimination in laws and social customs, by which their rights and
privileges have been abridged, disappear. The words of Jesus on
the cross, when he committed his mother to the care of John,
have inspired in all subsequent ages a tender feeling for the
sorrows of woman. If reverence for the Virgin was at length
exaggerated, and became a hurtful superstition, that unauthorized
worship was connected with a sentiment toward the wife and
mother which genuine Christianity fosters.
The State is the second great institution having a divine sanction,
and springing out of essential tendencies and needs of human
nature. It is one of the most remarkable features of Christianity,
and one of the marked signs that a wisdom higher than that of
man was concerned in it, that from the first it asserted the inviola
ble authority of the civil magistracy. There was all the temptation
that religious zeal could afford, to cast off the rule of the State.
This temptation was aggravated a thousand-fold by the circum
stance that against the early Christians the civil powers arrayed
themselves in mortal antipathy. Yet from the beginning the
injunction was to honor the ruler. Nay, he was declared to be the
minister of God for the execution of justice. Civil government
was affirmed to be a part and instrument of God's moral govern
ment of mankind. Christians were to pray for the ruler at the
very time when Nero was burning them alive. No priestly usur
pation in later periods, when it was carried to its height, was ever
able to extirpate in the Christian mind the feeling of obligation
to obey the magistrate, and the conviction that the powers that be
are ordained of God. Christianity exalted justice, and revered the
State as its divinely appointed upholder between man and man.
Christianity honored rightful authority, and recognized it as com
mitted to the rulers of a political community.
At the same time, the religion of Christ brought in liberty.
Wherever it has been understood aright, it has been the most
powerful champion and safeguard of natural and political rights.
In heathen antiquity the State was supreme, and practically om
nipotent. The individual was absorbed in the political body of
which he was a member. To that body he owed unlimited alle
giance. There was no higher law than the behest of the State.
Socrates is one instance of an individual refusing, out of deference
to the Divine Will, to obey a prohibition of the State. He would
POWER OF CHRISTIANITY TO TRANSFORM SOCIETY 105
not promise to refrain from teaching when he might have saved his
life by doing so. We meet here and there with a shining example
of one who was ready to disregard a civil mandate which required
of him some flagrant act of injustice. But these are exceptions
that prove the rule. They are anticipations of a better era than
existed, or could exist, as long as polytheism was dominant, and
while there was no broader form of social unity than the civil com
munity. Christianity founded a new kingdom. It was a kingdom
not of this world ; but it was a real sovereignty, which was felt to
be supreme over all human enactments. The first preachers of
the gospel felt obliged to obey God rather than man. The early
Christians had to disobey the laws and decrees of the Jewish and
the Roman authorities. It was a new thing when prisoners who
were brought before Roman prefects, and commanded to worship
the image of the emperor or to curse Christ, refused, and persist
ently refused, to do so. Such contumacy, such insubordination,
struck these administrators of law as a marvel of audacity and of
treasonable hostility to the supreme authority. By this means,
through that higher allegiance to the revealed will of God, which
Christianity made a widespread, practical fact, the power of the
State, up to that time virtually boundless, was cut down to reason
able proportions. The precepts of the State were subjected to the
private judgment of the subject. The individual decided whether
or not they were consistent with the laws of the King of kings.
He inquired whether they enjoined what God had forbidden, or
forbade what God had enjoined. The eternal laws of justice and
right, of which Sophocles wrote in the highest strain of Greek
religious thought, became, in the Christian Church, the everyday,
absolute arbiter of conduct. There might spring up a new despot
ism. There might grow up an ecclesiastical authority not less
tyrannical than the State had been. But this could only be a tem
porary abuse and perversion. Christian truth could not be perma
nently eclipsed. Meantime, even in the days when ecclesiastical
control over the individual was overgrown, it still afforded a most
wholesome check to the unrestrained power of chieftains and kings.
The Papacy, in the periods when it mistakenly strove to govern the
laity with a supreme sway, and even to build up a universal mon
archy of its own, a spiritual despotism, did, nevertheless, do a vast
service in its unceasing assertion of a spiritual law above the will
of any man, however strong, and of the right of spiritual ideas to
106 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
prevail over brute force. Guizot, speaking of the period which en
sued upon the fall of the Western Empire, says, " Had the Christian
Church not existed, the whole world must have been abandoned
to purely material force." l When Christianity had liberated the
human mind from the yoke of secular power, it proved itself en
lightened enough and strong enough to emancipate it from the
yoke of the ecclesiastical institution through which, in great part,
that deliverance had been achieved.
Looking at the constitution of the State itself, we see plainly how
Christianity has introduced, and tends to introduce, a just meas
ure of political liberty, and a fair distribution of political power.
The constitution of the Church as its Founder established it, the
fraternal equality of its members, the mutual respect for opinion
and preference which was enjoined, the forbidding of a lordship
like that which existed in secular society — all tended strongly to
bring analogous ideas and parallel relations into the civil commu
nity. Liberty was prized by the ancients ; but what sort of lib
erty? At Athens, the citizens were but a handful compared with
the entire population. In Rome, citizenship was a privilege jeal
ously guarded by the select possessors of it. When, at last, polit
ical equality was attained, it was through the absolute rule of the
emperors, after liberty had vanished. Christianity presents no
abstract pattern of civil society. It prescribes no such doctrine
as that of universal suffrage. But Christianity, by the respect
which it pays to man as man, by its antipathy to unjust or artifi
cial distinctions, by its whole genius and spirit, favors those forms
of polity in which all men of competent intelligence, who have a
stake in the well-being of the community, are allowed to have
some voice in its government. So far, Christianity is not a neu
tral in the contests relative to political rights and privileges. As
concerns natural rights, which are always to be carefully distin
guished from political, the religion of Christ continually protests
against every violation of justice in the laws and institutions of
society. The Golden Rule it holds to be not less applicable to
those acts of the community which determine the relations of its
members to one another than to the private intercourse of individ
uals. Who that examines the governments of Christian nations
to-day can fail to see what a mighty influence Christianity has
1 Lectures on the History of Civilization, ch. ii. p. 38.
POWER OF CHRISTIANITY TO TRANSFORM SOCIETY IO/
already exerted in moulding civil society into a conformity with
human rights and with the rational conception of equality?
Christianity fundamentally alters the view which is taken of in
ternational relations. Slowly, but steadily, it makes mankind feel
that injustice is not less base when exercised between nation and
nation than between man and man. Prior to the Christian era,
the more closely the members of a tribe or people were bound
together, the more regardless they generally were of the rights
and the welfare of all beyond their borders. Pretexts were easily
found — very often they were not even sought — for enterprises
of conquest and pillage. As intercourse increased, and commerce
spread, there was required some mutual recognition of rights.
Covenants were made, and sometimes were kept. Occasional
glimpses of a better order of things, in which mankind should be
regarded as a kind of confederacy, were gained by Stoic philos
ophers. Such ideas were now and then thrown out by rhetorical
writers on politics and morals, like Cicero. But international law
existed only in its rudiments. Selfishness was the practical rule
of national conduct. The strong domineered over the weak.
Christianity subordinated even patriotism to the law of righteous
ness and human brotherhood. It insisted on the responsibility of
the nation, in its corporate capacity, to God, the Father of all.
It held up a nobler ideal for the regulation of nations in their
mutual intercourse. It need not be said how much remains to be
done in order that the Christian law should be even approximately
carried out. Yet the contrast between the Christendom of to-day
and the spectacle presented by the tribes and nations of antiquity
is like the contrast between winter and spring. In the middle
ages, the Church, as an organized body, through the clergy, under
took to pacify contention, and curb the appetite for aggression.
Vast good was accomplished, but a new species of tyranny incident
ally came in. In modern days, equitable treaties, amicable nego
tiations, and, above all, arbitration, are resorted to more and more,
for the settlement of disputes, the redress of wrongs, and the pre
vention of war. Ambition and greed do not avail to expel from
thought the ideal of the gospel. If clouded for a while, it reap
pears in its full effulgence. Christianity does not absolutely for
bid war, as it does not prohibit, but rather approves, the use of
force for the maintenance of law within the limits of each commu
nity. But against all wars of aggression, against all wars which
IOS THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
might have been avoided by forbearance and reasonable conces
sion, the religion of Jesus lifts up a warning voice, which is more
and more heard. A glance at the history of Christianity, and at
the present condition of the world, makes it manifest that a mighty
force is incessantly at work in the bosom of mankind, which prom
ises at last to bring in an era when righteousness shall prevail in
the dealings of the nations with one another, and men shall learn
war no more.
The work which Christianity has done in the cause of charity,
of kindness and beneficence, constitutes a topic of extreme inter
est. There was charity before the gospel. Men were never
brutes. There was compassion ; there was a recognized duty of
hospitality to strangers. Among the Greeks, Jupiter was the
protector of strangers and suppliants. There were not absolutely
wanting combined efforts in doing good. Institutions of charity
have not been entirely unknown in heathen nations. In China
there have long existed, in the different provinces, hospitals for
two classes, — for old people and for foundlings. In ancient
times men were not indisposed to befriend their own countrymen.
This was preeminently true of the Jews. Among the heathen, in
various towns of the Roman Empire, physicians were appointed
by the municipality, whose business it was to wait on the poor
as well as on the rich. Yet, when all this is justly considered, the
fact remains, that charity was comparatively an unmeaning word
until Christianity appeared. Largesses bestowed on the multitude
by emperors and demagogues were from other motives than a
desire to relieve distress. Considerations of policy had a large
part in such benefactions as those of Nerva and Trajan for poor
children and orphans. Nothing effectual was done to check the
crime of infanticide, which had the sanction of philosophers of
highest repute. The rescue of foundlings was often the infliction
upon them, especially upon the females, of a lot worse than death.
Gladiatorial fights — the pastime which spread over the Roman
Empire in its flourishing days, and against which hardly a voice
was ever raised — could not fail to harden the spectators, who
learned to feast their eyes on the sight of human agony.
From the beginning, the outflow of charity was natural to
Christians. God had so loved the world, that he gave His Son.
Christ loved men, and gave himself for them. The Christian
principle was love, and love was expressed in giving liberally to
POWER OF CHRISTIANITY TO TRANSFORM SOCIETY 109
those in need. The disciples at Jerusalem were so generous in
their gifts to the poor of their number, that they are said to have
" had all things in common " ; although other passages in the Acts
prove that there was no actual communism, and Christianity never
impugned in the least the rights of property. Wherever a church
was established, there were abundant offerings regularly made for
the poor, systematic provisions for the care of the sick, of orphans,
and of all other classes who required aid. Gifts were poured out,
even for the help of Christians in distant places, without stint.
In the second and third centuries there were scattered all over
the Roman world these Christian societies, whose members were
bound together as one family, each taking pleasure in relieving
the wants of every other. Through their bishops and other offi
cers, there was a systematic alms-giving on a scale for which no
precedent had ever before existed. Nor was it indiscriminate, or
in a way to encourage idleness, as it too often was, even when the
motive was laudable, in the middle ages. There is an exhortation
of the Apostle Paul, in which the spirit of the gospel, as it actually
embodied itself in the early Church, is impressively indicated.
" Let him that stole steal no more ; but rather let him labor,
working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have
to give to him that needeth."1 There were reclaimed thieves in
the church at Ephesus. The apostle urges them to industry in
order that they may have the means of aiding those in want.
Nothing could better set before us the influence of the new
religion. The Apostolic Constitutions, which disclose the rules
followed among the churches as early as the Nicene age, ordain
that the poor man shall be assisted, not according to his expecta
tions, but in proportion to his real needs, of which the bishops
and deacons are to judge ; and to be assisted in such a way as
best to secure his temporal and spiritual good.2 It is added,
" God hates the lazy." The exercise of discrimination, and of
care not to foster idleness, is a frequent theme of exhortation
during several centuries. In one of the earliest post-apostolic
writings, the Didache, or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles;1 the
Christian disciple is cautioned to keep his money in his hands until
1 Ephesians iv. 28.
2 Const. Apost., iv. 5, Hi. 4, 12-14. See Chastel's The Charity of the Primi
tive Churches, p. 79.
3 Ch. i. 6 (see, also, i. 5),
HO THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
he makes them " sweat." Asylums for orphans, hospitals for the
sick, sprang into being under the auspices of the Church. In
process of time noscomia, or hospitals for the diseased, including
the insane, were founded in all the principal cities, and even
in smaller towns, and in some country places. Nor did the vast
stream of benefaction flow out for the help of Christians alone.
When pests broke out, as at Alexandria in the third century, and
somewhat earlier at Carthage, the Christians, under the lead of their
clergy, instead of forsaking the victims of disease, or driving them
from their houses, as the heathen did, showed their courage and
compassion by personally ministering to them. The parable of
the Good Samaritan had not been uttered in vain. Among the
numerous recorded examples of charity to the heathen is the act of
Atticus, Archbishop of Constantinople (A.D. 406-426), who, during
a famine in Nicea, sent three hundred pieces of gold to the pres
byter Calliopius. This almoner was directed to distribute it among
the suffering who were ashamed to beg, without distinction of
faith. Acacius, Bishop of Amida, about A.D. 420, persuaded his
clergy to sell the gold and silver vessels of the church, that he
might ransom several thousands of suffering Persian captives who
had been taken by the Romans. On one occasion Chrysostom,
passing through the streets of Antioch, on his way to the cathe
dral, saw a multitude of poor, distressed persons. He read to his
audience the xvith chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians.
Then he described the blind, the crippled, and diseased throng
which he had just seen, and proceeded to exhort his hearers to
exercise toward their "brothers" the compassion which they
themselves had need of at the hands of God.1 " Christian
charity extended over all the surface of the empire, like a vast
tissue of benevolence. There was no city, no hamlet, which, with
its church and its priest, had not its treasure for the poor ; no
desert which had not its hospitable convent for travellers. The
compassion of the Church was open to all."2
These meagre references to the charitable work of the early
Church may call to mind the miracle that Christianity wrought in
penetrating the human heart with a spirit of kindness, the like to
which the world before had never known. That same spirit, not
always discreetly it may be, has been operative among Christian
nations ever since. It is ever detecting forms of human want and
1 Opp., vol. iii. pp. 248 seq. See Chastel, p. 159. 2 Chastel, p. 304.
POWER OF CHRISTIANITY TO TRANSFORM SOCIETY III
infirmity which have not been previously noticed, and devising for
them relief. No superior prudence in administering charity, derived
from social and economic science, could have ever called into being,
nor can it ever dispense with, that temper of unselfish pity and love
out of which the charities of Christian people, age after age, have
continued to flow. In this feature of beneficence, the Christendom
of to-day, contrasted with heathen society of any age, is like a gar
den full of fruits and flowers by the side of a desert.
Christianity is the only known corrective of the evils out of
which socialism arises. The enrichment of the few, and the im
poverishing of the many, can be remedied by no infraction of the
right of property, which would bring back barbarism. The only
antidote is to be found in that spirit of beneficence which prompted
Zaccheus to give half of his goods to feed the poor. That spirit,
when it prevails, will dictate such arrangements between capitalist
and laborer as will secure to the latter a fair return for his toil. It
will check the vast accumulation of wealth in a few individuals.
And the Christian spirit, as in ancient days, will inspire patience
and contentment, and a better than an earthly hope, in the minds
of the class whose lot in life is hard.
In speaking of the improvement of society through the agency
of Christianity, it is natural for us to think of the two great scourges
of mankind, — war and slavery. Iniquitous wars are undertaken
in modem days. Yet, if we compare the motives that lead to
warfare now with those which in ancient times filled the world with
incessant strife, we cannot but perceive, much as remains to be
accomplished, a vast and salutary change. The laws and usages
of war have felt the humanizing touch of the gospel. The manner
in which non-combatants are treated is a signal illustration. Once
they were at the mercy of the conqueror, who too often knew no
mercy. Their lives were forfeited. Reduction to slavery was a
mitigation of the penalty which it was lawful to inflict on them.
A military commander who should treat his prisoners as com- j
manders like Julius Caesar, who were thought in their time to be \
humane, treated them, would be an object of universal execration. |
A like change has taken place, even as regards the property of a
conquered belligerent. The extinction of a nationality like Poland,
even when arguments in favor of it are not wholly destitute of weight,
is a dark blot on the reputation of the sovereigns or nations by
whom it is effected. Formerly it would be the expected and
112 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
approved result of a successful war. In the provisions now made
for the care and cure of the wounded, for the health and com
fort of the common soldier, including the voluntary labors of
devoted physicians and nurses, we perceive a product of Christian
feeling. The Romans had their soldiers' hospitals (yaletudinaria) ;
but the vast and varied work of philanthropy in this direction,
which belongs to our time, was something of which no man
dreamed.
Ancient slavery was generally the servitude of men of the same
race as the master. It involved the forfeiture of almost all rights
on the part of the slave. It was attended with a kind and degree
of cruelty which the intelligence of the victims, and the danger of
revolt resulting from it, seemed to require, if the system was to be
kept up. In extensive regions it had the effect, finally, almost to
abolish free labor, to bring landed property into the hands of a
few proprietors, to enervate the Roman spirit, and thus to pave
the way for the downfall of the empire through the energy of un
civilized but more vigorous races. Christianity found slavery
everywhere. It preached no revolution ; it brought forward no
abstract political or social theory ; but it undermined slavery by
the expulsive force of the new principle of impartial justice, and
self-denying love, and fraternal equality, which it inculcated.
From the beginning it counselled patience and quiet endurance ;
but it demanded fairness and kindness of the master, brought
master and slave together at the common table of the Lord, and
encouraged emancipation. The law of Constantine (A.D. 321),
which forbade all civil acts on Sunday, except the emancipation
of slaves, was in keeping with all his legislation on the subject of
slavery. It is a true index of the state of feeling which is mani
fest in the discourses of the eminent teachers of the Church of that
period. Ancient slavery, and, afterward, serfdom in the medieval
age, disappeared under the steady influence of Christian sentiment.
The revival of slavery in modern times has been followed by a like
result under the same agency. A century ago the slave-trade on
the coast of Africa was approved by Protestant Christians. At
first, after his conversion, John Newton, the pastor of Covvper, did
not condemn it. But at length the perception dawned on his
mind, and became a deep conviction, that the capture and enslave
ment of human beings is unchristian. The same conviction en
tered other minds. It grew and spread, until, in the treaties of
POWER OF CHRISTIANITY TO TRANSFORM SOCIETY 113
leading nations, the slave-trade has been declared to be piracy.
This amazing change was not wrought by a new revelation. It
was the effect of the steady shining of the light of Christian truth
long ago recorded in the Scriptures.
If it were practicable to dwell upon the varied consequences of
the religion of Christ as they are seen in the actual state of Chris
tian civilization, we should have to trace out the modifications of
political science under the benign influence of the gospel, the
transforming effect of Christian ethics in such departments as
prison discipline and penal law, the new spirit that breathes in
modern literature, which emanates from Christian ideas of human
nature, of forgiveness, and of things supernatural — a spirit which
is vividly felt when one passes from the dramas of ^Kschylus to
the dramas of Shakespeare — the way in which the arts of music,
painting, and sculpture have developed new types of beauty and
harmony from contact with the Christian faith, the indirect power
of Christianity in promoting discoveries and inventions that con
duce to health and material comfort, the softening influence of
Christianity upon manners and social intercourse, and even move
ments to protect animals from cruel treatment. But the topic is
too broad to be pursued farther.
To appreciate the magnitude of the results of Christianity, one
must bear in mind that they do not consist alone or chiefly in ex
ternal changes. There is a transformation of thought and feeling.
The very texture of the spirits of men is not what it was. The
conscience and the imagination, the standards of judgment, the
ideals of character, the ends and aims of human endeavor, have
undergone a revolution. When a continent, with its huge moun
tains and broad plains, is gradually lifted up out of the sea, there
is no doubt that a mighty force is silently active in producing so
amazing an effect. What is any physical change in comparison
with that moral and spiritual transformation, not inaptly called " a
new creation," which Christianity has already caused?
Now, the total effect of Christianity which Christendom — past
and present, and future as far as we can foresee the future — pre
sents, is due to the personal agency of Jesus of Nazareth. It can
even be shown to be largely due to a personal love to him which
animated the Christians of the first centuries, and which still per
vades a multitude of disciples who call themselves by his name.
Had this bond of personal gratitude and trust been absent, this
114 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
vast result could never have come to pass. The power of Chris
tianity in moulding Christendom is undeniably owing to the reli
gious and supernatural elements which are involved in the life,
character, "and work of Jesus Christ. Had he been conceived of
as merely a human reformer, a teacher of an excellent system of
morals, a martyr, the effect would never have followed. Subtract
the faith in him as the Sent of God, as the Saviour from sin and
death, as the hope of the soul, and you lose the forces without
which the religion of Jesus could never have supplanted the ancient
heathenism, regenerated the Teutonic nations, and begotten the
Christian civilization in the midst of which we live, and which is
spreading over the globe. Men may raise a question about this
or that miracle recorded in the gospels. The miracle of Christen
dom, wrought by Christ, is a fact which none can question.
CHAPTER VI
THE EVIDENCE OF THE DIVINE ORIGIN OF CHRISTIANITY FROM ITS
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING AND FROM THE COMPARISON
OF IT WITH THE GREEK PHILOSOPHY
CHRISTIANITY stands in an organic relation to the ancient reli
gion of the Hebrews. The very name " Christ " is an Old Testa
ment title. It is equally true, however, that Christianity is a signal
advance upon the Old Testament religion. The Hebrew Scrip
tures themselves point forward to an era when the system of which
they are the records is to resolve itself into something almost
inconceivably higher. That Christianity is on that higher plane
foreshadowed of old, the New Testament distinctly and emphati
cally declares, and it is quite evident. It did not confine itself to
the reform of a system which had fallen into degeneracy. Far
from it. Rather does it present itself in the teaching of Jesus,
and elsewhere in the New Testament, as the absolute religion.
It carries out to perfection whatever revelations had preceded.
In this way alone could the ideal of the kingdom of God, before
imperfectly conceived and dimly sketched, be realized. Through
Christ the relation of God to the world is fully disclosed. In
the long crusade against heathenism, along with the unity and
personality of God, his transcendence was set forth in bold relief.
It was left to the religion of the New Testament to emphasize
its counterpart, his immanence. He is in the world, although
not to be identified with it. Through Christ the kingdom of God
actually attains its universal character. Religion is not coincident,
as in all the ancient communities, with the limits of a single com
munity. It is not restricted as was the cult of the Hebrew faith.
The heavenly good of the gospel is of such a nature that it can
be, and must be, offered indiscriminately to all men. The sense
of a common relationship to Christ and to God melts away all
differences. Appealing to a common religious sentiment, a com
mon consciousness of sin and of the need of help, and offering a
remedy that is equally adapted to all mankind, Christianity shows
Il6 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
itself possessed of the qualities of a universal religion. Christianity
vindicates for itself this character, as being a religion of principles,
not of rules. Where the aim of the teaching of Jesus is accom
plished, the soul becomes a law to itself. The end which the soul
sets before it is itself a criterion of what is to be done and what
omitted. The purpose in view is to infuse a new life. The work
of the gospel, as it is depicted both by Jesus and by the Apostles,
is to efk'ct a new creation in humanity — to render his disciples
new cr \.:ures in the fellowship with him. It thereby establishes
a filial connection between man and God. In its inculcation of
seminal principles, not seeking to dictate or restrain conduct
farther than these may prompt, it shows itself the ultimate type
of religion. As to things external, those who insist on a leaden
uniformity, unmodifiable forms of polity and ritual, misconceive
the teaching of Jesus and the catholic quality which permeates it.
The injunctions of the gospel are not a closed aggregate of
precepts, cut and dried. They are truths containing seeds of
development, so that the compass of perceived obligations, the
ramifications of Christian duty, are perpetually spreading. The
sphere of moral culture and of Christian beneficence, in its basis
ever the same, is continually opening out in new directions.1 Thus
it is never outgrown and never obsolete.
The ethical teaching of Jesus, confining moral good and evil to
cherished feelings and inward purposes, attaches approval and
condemnation, not to expressions in word and conduct in them
selves, but. in the case of evil, to the hidden germs within the
soul, the impure desire, the vindictive wish, the unjust or unchari
table judgment, permitted in the heart. This is the exalted ideal
of the gospel.
In the teaching of Jesus, ethics and religion are inseparable.
The essential nature of both is reducible to a single principle.
In this particular His teaching is of transcendent worth. The duty
is love to God in no confined measure, — love to the infinite Being,
but like unto this law, that is, of a piece with it, and is impartial
love to one's neighbor, — love to man. The sum of all obligations
is the one principle of love to the universal society of which God
is the head, and of which every man, being made in the image
of God, yet finite in his nature, is a member and, in essential
worth, the peer of every other. No simplification could be more
1 As illustrated admirably \\\ Jesus Christ and the Social Question, by F. G.
Peabody.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 117
complete or exhaustive. It extends over the whole field of human
obligation, and goes down to the root of character.
Christian ethics is sometimes charged with serious defects.
J. S. Mill observes, " I believe that other ethics than that which
can be evolved from exclusively Christian sources must exist side
by side with Christian ethics to produce the moral regeneration
of mankind." l He guards against misunderstanding by adding,
" I believe that the sayings of Christ are all that I can see any
evidence of their having been intended to be ; that they are irrec
oncilable with nothing which a comprehensive morality requires ;
that everything which is excellent in ethics may be brought within
them, with no greater violence to their language than has been
done by all who have attempted to deduce from them any prac
tical system of conduct whatever." '• If nothing more were meant
than that the New Testament does not pretend to define all the
particulars of duty, but leaves them in some cases to be inferred,
Mill's observation would be just. He refers, in support of his
criticism, to the absence of any recognition, in Christian ethics, of
duty to the State, to the negative character of Christian precepts,
to an exclusive emphasis laid upon the passive virtues, and to the
want of reference to magnanimity, personal dignity, the sense of
honor, and the like — qualities which, he says, we learn to esteem
from Greek and Roman sources.
The imputation that Christian precepts are preeminently nega
tive, is surely not well founded. It is not " a fugitive and clois
tered virtue " which is enjoined in the New Testament. To do
good is made not less obligatory than to shun evil/' The religion
which has for its work to transform the world is not satisfied with
a mere abstinence from wrong-doing.
It is not true that by insisting on mutual benevolence, Chris
tianity thereby weakens the force of particular obligations. The
gospel does not frown upon patriotism any more than upon the
domestic affections. Not the love of country, more than the love
of kindred, is chilled by Christian teaching. The State, as well as
the family, is recognized as a part of the divine order. Jesus was
moved to tears by the doom of Jerusalem. It was an Apostle
who loved his own people so ardently that he was willing to be
accursed for their sake.4
1 On Liberty, p. 93. 8 See e.g. Matt. v. 1 6, xxv. 43.
2 p. 94. * Romans ix. 3.
Il8 THE GROUNDS OF THE1STIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
If the passive virtues are prominent in the Christian system, it is
not as the substitute, but as the complement, of qualities of another
class. Revenge is unlawful ; truth is not to be propagated by vio
lence ; but unrighteousness in every form is assailed with an earnest
ness that admits of no increase. The non-resistance enjoined in the
Sermon on the Mount is not a prohibition to inflict suffering upon
wrong- doers, but to do this with retaliation as a motive, and not
discerning the efficacy of the practice enjoined in the precept
" overcome evil with good." Nor does the religion of the New
Testament discountenance the use of force for the protection of
society. The magistrate is the minister of God for the execution
of justice. As for magnanimity, the sense of honor, and kindred
feelings, they are included in the category of whatsoever things are
true, honest, pure, lovely, and of good report.1 Christianity ex
cludes nothing that is admirable from its ideal of character; and
if there be virtues which have flourished on heathen ground, Chris
tianity takes them up, while at the same time it infuses into them
a new spirit — the leaven of self-renunciation.
Robust and aggressive elements enter into the Christian ideal
of character ; yet there was a reason why, at the outset, stress
should be laid upon meekness, patience, resignation, and the other
virtues called passive. The foes of a Christian were of his own
household. All the forces of society, civil and ecclesiastical, were
combined against him. There was the strongest possible need for
the exercise of just these qualities. Particular affections, like the
love of home and of country, have a root in Christian ethics. But
since Christianity came into a world where patriotism, and other
affections limited in their range, exercised a control that supplanted
the broader principle of philanthropy, it was requisite that the
wider and more generic principles should be inculcated with all
urgency, not with a view to extirpate or enervate, but to keep
within bounds and to purify subordinate principles of action. In
Christian ethics, all the virtues, the milder and the more nega
tive, with the bolder and the more heroic — courage in suffering
and courage in action, the self-sacrifice of the mother in her house
hold, of the patriot on the battle-field, of the missionary to dis
tant nations — find a just recognition.
In these inquiries it is important not to overlook the distinctive
1 Phil, iv. 8. See also I Cor. xiii., a chapter which evidently reflects the
spirit of the ethical teaching of Jesus.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 119
character of Christianity. It is a religion. It is not primarily or
chiefly a code of moral precepts. Morality finds a broader state
ment and a more impressive sanction, and, above all, it gains a
new motive. But the morals of the gospel are not the first nor the
main thing. Gibbon plumes himself on finding in Isocrates a pre
cept which he pronounces the equivalent of the Golden Rule. He
might have collected like sayings from a variety of heathen sources j
although neither Confucius nor any other of the authors in whom
these sayings are found contains the Christian precept in a form
at once positive and not merely prohibitive, and in a form universal,
and not merely in reference to certain particular relations in life —
as to that of father and son. But an ethical precept, not very remote
in its tenor, may undoubtedly be cited from a number of ethnic
teachers, and also from ancient Rabbis. Nowhere, to be sure, has
it the preeminence assigned to it in the legislation of Jesus.1 But
the originality of the gospel does not consist in particular direc
tions pertaining to the conduct of life, however pure and noble
they may be. On special points of duty it is true that Christianity
speaks with an impressiveness never equalled elsewhere. But
while an awe-inspiring tone is heard in its moral injunctions, not
everything in them is absolutely novel. Christianity is, in its
essence, a religion. Nor is the substance of Christianity to be
found either in its doctrine of the immortality of the soul, nor in
various other propositions which it is usual to classify under the
head of religious beliefs.
Christianity has been truly styled the religion of redemption.
Here lies its defining characteristic. It is the approach of heaven
to men, the mercy of God coming down to lift them up to a
higher fellowship. The originality of Christianity is to be sought
in the character and person of Christ and in the new life that
goes forth from him, to be appropriated by the race of mankind.
Probably no achievement of the human mind in the same field
of thought outranks the Greek philosophy. In modern ages the
literature on like themes is composed not without the potent
aid of the Christian Scriptures, and the light which has spread
1 Tn the gospel, however, it does not supersede the need of the Christian
exposition of that which the individual may rightfully claim or desire for him
self. It is given to rid the disciple of the misleading effect of a selfish bias;
in other words, to brace him up on the weak side.
120 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
from this source. As indicating the native power of the human
intellect to ascertain the truth in the sphere of ethics and re
ligion, there is nothing which rises to the level of that develop
ment of philosophical thought which Bacon styles " the pagan
divinity." Hence a comparison of it with the teachings of Christ
and His disciples ought to aid us in solving the question whether
there is a likelihood that Christianity owes its being to man alone,
or, as, according to the Evangelist, the question is stated by Christ
Himself, — whether the teaching be of God, or whether He speaks
of Himself.1
The Greek Philosophy was a preparation for Christianity in a
threefold way. It dissipated, or tended to dissipate, the supersti
tions of polytheism ; it awakened a sense of need which philoso
phy of itself failed to meet ; and it so educated the intellect and
conscience as to render the gospel apprehensible, and, in many
cases, congenial to the mind. It did more than remove obstacles
out of the way. Its work was positive as well as negative. It orig
inated ideas and habits of thought which had more or less direct
affinity with the religion of the gospel, and which found in this
religion their proper counterpart. The prophetic element of the
Greek philosophy lay in the glimpses of truth which it could not
fully discern, and in the obscure and unconscious pursuit of a
good which it could not definitely grasp.
Socrates stands at the beginning of this movement. The pre
ceding philosophy had been predominantly physical. It sought
for an explanation of nature. The mystic, Pythagoras, blended
with his natural philosophy moral and religious doctrine ; but that
doctrine, whatever it was, appears to have rested on no scientific
basis. Socrates is the founder of moral science ; and the whole
subsequent course of Greek philosophy is traceable to the impulse
which emanated from this remarkable man. He was aptly styled
by the Florentine Platonist of the Renaissance, Marsilius Ficinus,
the John the Baptist for the ancient world.
i. The soul and its moral improvement was the great subject
that employed his attention. All his inquiries and reflections, writes
Xenophon, turned upon what was pious, what impious ; what honor
able, what base ; what just, what unjust ; what wisdom, what folly;
what courage, what cowardice ; what a state or political commu
nity, and the like. This searching method of laying bare weak-
1 John vii. 17.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 121
ness and folly finally had the effect, as Xenophon records, that
many " who were once his followers, had forsaken him." Who
can fail to be reminded of the /zeravoia — the self-judgment and
reform — which were required at the very first preaching of the
gospel ?
2. Socrates asserted the doctrine of theism, and taught and ex
emplified the spiritual nature of religion. It is true that he believed
in "gods many and lords many." But he believed in one su
preme, personal being, to whom the deepest reverence was to be
paid. He taught the truth of a universal Providence. " He was
persuaded," says the same disciple, "that the gods watch over the
actions and affairs of men in a way altogether different from what
the vulgar imagined ; for while these limited their knowledge to
some particulars only, Socrates, on the contrary, extended it to
all; firmly persuaded that every word, every action, nay, even our
most retired deliberations, are open to their view ; that they are
everywhere present, and communicate to mankind all such knowl
edge as relates to the conduct of human life." 1 He had only one
prayer, that the gods would give him those things that were good,
of which they alone were the competent judges. No service is so
acceptable to the Deity as that of "a pure and pious soul."2 He
counselled absolute obedience to the Deity, and acted on this
principle. He chose his career in compliance with an inward
call from God, which he did not feel at liberty to disregard. At
his trial, in his Apology, he said, " Be of good cheer about death,
and know this of a truth — that no evil can happen to a good
man, either in life or after death."3
3. Socrates had a belief, not a confident belief, in the future life
and in the immortality of the soul. The last word in his final
address is : " The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our
ways — I to die, and you to live. Which is better, God only
knows." 4 His last words to his friends, if we may trust the Phcedo,
were significant of a hope. 5
4. In the ethical doctrine of Socrates, virtue is identified with
1 KO.I yap ^7ri,ueAe?cr0cu deovs evo/jufev avOp&Truv, ou% ov rp&irov ol TroXXoi
V0/J.i£ov<riv, oCrot fj£v yap olWrcu rovs 0eoi)s TO. p.£v etdtvat, ret 5* OUK eldtvai.
ScjKpdrTjs 5£ ir&vTa p£v r/yciTO deovs eloevai, rd re \ey6/j.ei>a /ecu -rrpa.TTbp.eva
/ecu TO. (nyy (3ov\fv6{J.eva, iravTa-^ov 5£ irapeivai, Ka.1 <rrip.alveiv rots dvQpuiroiS
•wfpl rCiv avOpUTreiuv iravTuv. — l\fetfi.t I. i. 19.
2 Mem., I. iii. 3. s Apology, 41 C. D. * Ibid., 29 A. *> Ibid., 42.
122 THE GROUNDS OF TIIEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
knowledge, with the discernment of the highest good. This is
evident from the reports of Xenophon, as well as from Plato. The
perception of virtue could not fail to be attended with the prac
tice of it. None who saw the highest good, would fail to choose
it.1 The doctrine of Socrates, which Aristotle also attributes to
him, would, if logically carried out, resolve virtue into an intellect
ual state, and subvert the ground of moral accountableness for
evil doing. Thus, unwittingly, he paved the way for that intellect-
ualism which made the highest spiritual attainments accessible
only to the gifted few — a spirit which pervaded the schools of
Greek philosophy afterward. His aim was a worthy one, — to im
part to ethics a scientific character.
5. He was personally far from disposed to exaggerate the in
tellectual powers of man, or to overlook the limits of human reason.
On the contrary, he was characterized by a genuine humility.
In passing to Plato, we do not leave Socrates ; but it is not pos
sible to draw the line, in the Platonic Dialogues, between the
teaching of the master and the ideas and opinions of the more
speculative disciple. The elevated tone of the Platonic system,
and its many points of congeniality with Christian truth, have
been recognized in the Church in ancient and in modern times.
Men like Origen and Augustine, among the Fathers, were imbued
with the Platonic spirit. Not a few, as far back as Justin Martyr
and as late as Neander, have found in the lofty teaching of Plato
a bridge over which they have passed into the kingdom of Christ.
Turn where we will in these immortal productions, we are in the
bracing atmosphere of a spiritual philosophy. We touch on some
of the most important points which invite comparison with Chris
tian doctrine.
i. Plato's conception of God approaches but fails to attain to
that of Christianity. He teaches that God is a Person, a self-con
scious intelligence. No other interpretation of his doctrine is so
reconcilable with his various utterances on the subject.2 In the
1 Mem., III. ix. 4. For further illustrative passages, see Ueberweg, Hist,
of Philosophy, i. 85.
2 By some his idea of the good is identified absolutely with God : but see
Butler's Lectures on Ancient Phil., ii. 62, but also Thompson's note. See
also Ritter, Jfist. of Ancient PJiiL, ii. 284. For other views of the passage in
the Republic, vi. 508, see Zeller, Gesch. d. Griech. Phil., ii. 208, 309, 310.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 123
tenth book of The Laws he speaks of the " lost and perverted na
tures " who have adopted atheism. But Plato did not escape from
the dualism which clung to Greek as well as to Oriental thinking.
Matter is eternal, and is an independent and a partially intrac
table material. God fashions, He does not create, the world.
Then, side by side with the Supreme Being, is the realm of ideas,
the patterns and archetypes of whatever comes to be, and which,
it is clear not only from Plato himself, but also from the polemical
attitude of Aristotle, are conceived of as substantial entities. By
thus assigning to the ideas a kind of separate existence, Plato gave
room and occasion for the pantheistic turn which his system as
sumed in the hands of professed Platonists of a later day.
2. He followed Socrates in his implicit faith in divine Provi
dence, so far even as the care of the individual is concerned.1 But
we miss in him, as in the ancient philosophers generally, any concep
tion of the final cause of history, of a goal to which the course of
history tends, such as we have in the Christian idea of the kingdom
of God on earth ; and hence there is wanting a broad and satisfy
ing conception of the Providence of God as related to mankind.
Hellenic pride, the Greek feeling of superiority to the barbarian,
was one thing which stood in the way of an ampler idea of the
plan of God respecting the human race. Plato was not emanci
pated from this feeling.2 But as to the moral government of God,
under which the good are rewarded and the evil chastised and
punished, both in this world and in the world to come — this is a
conviction with which his mind is profoundly impressed.3
3. Plato teaches the super-terrestrial properties and destiny of
the soul. Man is possessed of a principle of intelligence — vovs
— and is thus in the image of God. In a beautiful passage of the
Phczdo, the notion is confuted that the soul is a mere harmony of
parts or elements, subject to the affections of the body. Rather is
it a nature which leads and masters them — " herself a diviner thing
than any harmony." 4 The soul is immortal. The inward life is
" the true self and concernment of a man." 5 " Let each one of
us," says Plato, "leave every other kind of knowledge, and seek
1 Phtsd., 62.
2 Plato's objection to the distinction of Hellenes and Barbarians, in the
Politicus (262), is on a logical ground; just as, in the context, he objects to
the distinction of men and animals.
3 See Rep., x. 614. 4 PJucJ., 94. 6 Rep., iv. 443.
124 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
and follow one thing only, if peradventure he may be able to learn
and find also who there is that can and will teach him to distin
guish the life of good and evil, and to choose always and every
where the better life as far as possible." l There are two patterns
before men, the one blessed and divine, the other godless and
wretched. It is utter folly and infatuation to grow like the last.
We are to cling to righteousness at whatever sacrifice. " No man,"
says Plato, " but an utter fool and coward is afraid of death itself,
but he is afraid of doing wrong. For, to go to the world below,
having a soul which is like a vessel full of injustice, is the last and
worst of all evils." 2 He goes so far, in a remarkable passage in
the Gorgias, as to say that a righteous man, if he has done wrong,
will prefer to be punished rather than deprive justice of her due.
" The next best thing to a man being just, is that he should become
just, and be chastised and punished."3 His faith in immortality
moved him to insist earnestly on the duty of caring for the spiritual
part of our being.4 We are to cling to righteousness at whatever
sacrifice.
4. Plato insists, moreover, on the need of redemption. But
his idea of the nature of redemption is faulty from the defect
that characterizes his notion of sin. Redemption is not strictly
moral, the emancipation of the will from the control of evil,
although this element is not ignored ; but it is the purification of
the soul from the pollution supposed to be inevitable from its con
nection with matter. The spirit is to be washed from the effect
of its abode in the body, its contact with a foreign, antagonistic
element that defiles it. And what is the method of redemption ?
Sin being conceived of as ignorance, as an infatuation of the under
standing, deliverance is through instruction, through science. Hence
the study of arithmetic and geometry is among the remedies pre
scribed for the disorder of human nature. The intellect is to be
corrected in its action. The reliance is predominantly upon teach
ing. Thus, Plato, through his dualism on the one hand, and the
exaggerated part which he gives to the understanding in connection
with moral action, on the other, fails to apprehend exactly both the
nature of sin and of salvation.
5. There is a Christian idea at the bottom of Plato's ethical
system. Virtue he defines as resemblance to God according to
1 J&?/., x. 618. 8 Ibid., 527 B.
2 Gorgias, 522 E. * Phad., 107.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 125
the measure of our ability.1 To be like God, Christianity declares
to be the perfection of human character. But there was wanting
to the heathen mind, even in its highest flight, that true and full
perception of the divine excellence which is requisite for the ade
quate realization of this ethical maxim. We cannot but wonder
at hearing Plato say, almost by inspiration, " In God is no
unrighteousness at all — He is altogether righteous ; and there is
nothing more like Him than he of us who is most righteous."
"To become like Him is to become holy, just, and wise."2 Yet,
with Plato, justice is the crowning virtue, the highest attribute of
character. It is justice which keeps all the powers of the soul in
harmony, and connected with this regnant virtue are wisdom,
courage, and temperance, corresponding respectively to the
several functions, reason, the will with the higher impulses of the
spirit, and the appetitive nature. Plato has only an occasional
glimpse of the higher principle of love, which Christianity makes
the sum and source of moral excellence. It does not enter as an
essential link in his system.3
Moreover, the possession of virtue in the highest sense is possible
only to the philosopher. And Plato says that the philosophic nature
is a plant that rarely grows among men.4 In the ideal common
wealth, it is only the few who are endowed with philosophic reason.
It is their prerogative to rule the many ; and it is only the few who
are capable of realizing the moral ideal in its perfection. How
opposed is this to the gospel, which offers the heavenly good to
all ! The idea of an intellectual aristocracy, with respect to which
Plato stands on the common level of ancient thought, is made
somewhat less repulsive by the duty which is laid upon the philos
opher of descending " into the den," 5 and working among men,
laboring " to make their ways as far as possible agreeable to the
ways of God." 6
Plato's Republic offers the finest illustration of the loftiness of
his aspirations, and, at the same time, of the barriers which it was
impossible for him to surmount. This work gives evidence of the
yearning of his mind for a more intimate union and fellowship of
men than had hitherto existed. How could this aspiration be
1 Thecct., 176 A. 2 Ibid.
3 The Symposium, which, though difficult of analysis, contains passages of
great beauty, shows how far he went in this direction.
4 Republic, B. vi. 5 Ibid., vii. 519. ° Ibid., vi. 501.
126 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
realized? The only form of society in which he could conceive it
possible for such a community to come into being, was the State.
And, in order to give effect to his conception, individuality must
be lost in the all-controlling influence and sway of the social whole.
Plato says that in the best ordered state there will be a common
feeling, such as pervades the parts of the human body. He uses
the very figure of St. Paul when he says of Christians that they
are members one of another. But this relation could never be
produced by any form of political society. Besides this insur
mountable difficulty, Plato does not escape from the pride of race.
It is an Hellenic state, which he will found, and the Hellenes are
not to treat the barbarians as they treat one another, the Hellenic
race being " alien and strange to the barbarians." 1 The vision of
the republic must, therefore, stand as an unconscious prophecy
of the kingdom of Christ. The ancient heathen world could not
supply the conditions demanded for its fulfilment.
Aristotle, when compared with Plato, his great teacher and
friend, presents fewer points of similarity to Christian teaching, for
the reason that his mind is less religious, and that he confines him
self more closely to this mundane sphere, and to the phenomena
that fall directly under human observation.
1. Aristotle was a Theist. He undertakes a scientific proof of
the existence of a supreme intelligent Being.2 His conception,
though lofty, is defective from a Christian point of view, since
God is brought into no constant, living relation to the world, as its
Creator and Ruler, and, especially, no place is found for His
moral government.
2. Aristotle holds, likewise, to an immaterial, intelligent prin
ciple in man ; but he leaves it doubtful whether this element of the
soul is invested with individuality, and thus whether our personal
life continues after death. Ethics, according to Aristotle, relates
to human conduct, and does not concern itself with the end or rule
of action which the gods adopt for themselves. He sets forth no
general principle like that of Plato, that we are to imitate God
as far as possible. And as the highest bond of unity is political,
ethics is treated as a subordinate branch of politics. He discerns
and opposes the error of Socrates in confounding virtue with
lfiep., v. 470.
2 Aristotle, Metaphys., B. xii., where the whole doctrine of God is syste
matically unfolded.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY I2/
knowledge. He assigns to the voluntary faculty its proper place.
If sin were merely ignorance, there would be no ground for blame
or punishment. As far as men are the authors of their character,
they are responsible for the attraction which, in consequence of
that character, evil assumes. Aristotle is acquainted with no trans
forming principle which may dictate conduct the reverse of what
has existed hitherto ; although, as Neander has pointed out, the
doctrine of Aristotle as to the effect of moral action holds good
when applied to the fortifying of a principle already implanted.
One must be good in order to do good ; but it is a case where the
fountain is deepened by the outflow of its waters.
3. In the Fourth Book of the Nicomachean ethics, Aristotle
describes the man of magnanimity, or noble pride. This por
traiture of the ideal man contains many features which, from a
Christian point of view, merit approval. Yet the philosopher's
ideal man, while he may be eager to do favors, will disdain to
receive them. The character which is depicted by Aristotle in
this remarkable passage is grand in its outlines, but it lacks the
essential element, the very leaven, of Christian goodness, the spirit
of humility and love.
4. It is evident that Aristotle does not rise above the intellectu-
alism which excludes the mass of mankind, on account of an
alleged natural incapacity, from access to the highest good. In
his treatise on politics he makes slavery to be of two kinds, one
of which springs from violence and the law of war, and the other
from the inferior mental powers of the enslaved.1 This last species
of servitude he defends, on the ground that the enslaved are not
fitted by nature for any higher lot. As reason in the individual is
to the lower faculties, and as the soul is to the body, so is the
enlightened class in society to those beneath them, who are ani
mated implements to be managed by their owners.2 In the New
Testament the estimate of the spiritual worth of the slave is toto
coelo different.
5. At the close of his principal ethical treatise, Aristotle dilates
with genuine eloquence on the lofty delight which belongs to in
tellectual contemplation, wherein man calls into exercise that part
of his being in which he resembles the gods, and in this act must,
1 B. i. 3.
2 With reference to occasional protests in Antiquity, against slavery, see J.
Barthelemy-Saint-Hilaire, Politique d'Aristote, I. ii. § 3 n.
128 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
therefore, be most pleasing to them. This is to live conformably
to that which is highest in us, which is, to be sure, in bulk small,
but in dignity and power is incomparably superior to all things be
sides. So doing, we, though mortal, put on, as far as may be,
immortality. What Aristotle here describes, with so much depth
of feeling, as the highest state of man, was necessarily conceived
of, however, as the privilege of only a select few, while Christianity
opens the door of access to the highest spiritual good, to all man
kind. Nor does Aristotle connect this elevated form of activity,
as it exists either in God or men, with a principle of beneficence
which is a fountain of blessing, not to the subject alone, but to
universal society. On the question whether personal conscious
ness survives death, the great question of the immortality of the
soul, the writings of this philosopher contain no clear and definite
expression of opinion.
From the time of Aristotle, the speculative tendency declined,
and philosophy assumed a practical cast.1 Its themes were virtue
and happiness ; its problems related to human life on earth. The
later schools, for the most part, borrowed their metaphysics from
their predecessors. Religious questions, such as the relation of
Divine Providence to human agency, and to the existence of evil,
became prominent. The individual was thrown back upon him
self, and became an object of consideration, not as a member of
the state, but as a man, a member of the human race. The
causes of this great philosophical change were various. The fall
of the Greek political communites, the conquests of Alexander,
the fusion of numerous peoples in the Roman Empire, were prom
inent sources of this intellectual revolution. The old political
organizations, in which the life of the individual centred, were
broken up. He was driven, almost, to look upon himself in a
broader relation, as a citizen of the world. Moreover, the im
pulse which Socrates gave to ethical inquiry, although it was com
bined in him with a speculative element, and still more in Plato
and Aristotle, continued to be potent, and became prevailing.
The Stoic and Epicurean systems, antagonistic to each other as
they appear to be, and as, in their particular features, they really
are, manifest the same subjective character. Tranquillity and
serenity of the inner life is the end and aim of both. Scepticism
1 See, on this change, Zeller, Die Philosophic d. Griechen, vol. iii. I seq.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 1 29
followed upon the rivalry of conflicting systems. Finally, the new
Platonism appeared, a form of mysticism affording refuge to the
believing but perplexed inquirer.
Systems which, on account of their influence, we have occasion
here to consider, are the Epicurean and the Stoic.
The theology of Epicurus was a scheme of practical atheism.
The adherents of this school did not deny the existence of the
gods, but they denied to them any interest, or concern, in the
affairs of the world. The current ideas of this philosophy are em
bodied, with wonderful skill and beauty, in the poem of Lucretius,
which has for its subject the nature of things. To account for
the origin of the world, he adopts the atomic theory of Democritus.
The heavens and the earth, as they had a beginning, approach
the epoch of decay and dissolution. The soul is material and
mortal ; hence the dread of anything hereafter is needless and
vain. All fear of the gods, with which men torment themselves,
is irrational, since the gods stand aloof from men, and are ab
sorbed in their own enjoyments. The end and aim of existence,
according to the Epicurean school, is pleasure.
All good is resolved into pleasure. All special desires are to
be subordinate to the general desire of happiness ; and in this
notion of happiness, the approbation of conscience is not included.
Virtue, therefore, is a self-regarding prudence. It is the control of
a far-sighted expediency by which unruly instincts are restrained
from the excess which occasions pain. The founders of this
school led virtuous lives, but the doctrine contained no motives
of sufficient power to curb the passions of men generally, and, in
the progress of time, showed its real tendencies.
Stoicism existed in two forms ; first, the original system of Zeno
and Chrysippus, and, secondly, the modified Roman Stoicism of
the first and second centuries of the Christian era. If we looked
at the metaphysics of Stoicism, we should infer that this philoso
phy contained little or nothing in harmony with Christianity. It
was a revival of the early materialistic Pantheism. Nothing exists
but matter. The soul itself is a corporeal entity. The universe is
one, and is governed by one all-ruling law. Matter and the Deity
are identical — the same principle in different aspects. The Deity,
that is to say, is the immanent, creative force in matter, which
acts ever according to law. This principle, developed in the to
tality of things, is Zeus. It is Providence, or Destiny. The uni-
130 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
versal force works blindly, but after the analogy of a rational
agency. The world, proceeding by evolution from the primitive
fire, eventually returns to its source through a universal conflagra
tion, and the same process is to be renewed in an endless series
of cycles. Fate rules all. The world is an organic unity ; con
sidered as a whole, it is perfect. Evil, when looked at in relation
to the entire system, is good. The denial of free agency, and of
immortality, was a corollary. As to the personality of the minor
gods, the old Stoics were vacillating. Now they are spoken of as
functions of nature, and now as persons. But if personal, they
share the fate of men ; they disappear in the final conflagration.
It seems strange that any system of morals worthy of the name
could coexist with these ideas. The truth is, however, that the
Stoics did not derive their ethics from their physical and meta
physical theories, and did not adjust these to their ethical doc
trine. The essential thing is to live according to nature. This is
the great maxim of the Stoic ethics.1 By " nature " is meant the
universal system in which the individual is one link. Sometimes,
however, the constitution of the individual is denoted ; and some
times the term is used in a more restricted way still, to denote the
rational faculty by itself. But to live according to nature is the
one supreme, comprehensive duty. Virtue springs from rational
self-determination, where reason alone guides the will, and the
influence of the affections and emotions is smothered. These are
contrary to reason ; they interfere with the freedom of the soul.
No anger, no pity, no lenity, no indulgence — this was the pure
creed of Stoicism. Apathy is the right condition of the soul,
which should be moved only by reason. Knowledge is necessary
to virtue, since right doing without rational insight does not fill out
the conception of virtue. Hence the virtuous man is the sage, the
wise man ; every other is a fool. Virtue, too, if it exist at all,
must exist as a whole. It is a single principle ; and so, too, the
vices are united. Hence the world is divided into two classes, — the
virtuous or wise, and the wicked or foolish.
This true ideal of primitive Stoicism was softened by the doc
trine of preferables. Virtue is the sole thing which is good in itself.
1 Witness the teaching of Cleanthes, ap. Stob., Eel, ii. 132 (Ritter and
Preller, p. 380, where are the parallel statements of Chrysippus). Their
view is expounded by Zeller, Die Philosophic d. Gricc/ifn, vol. iii. § 35 : in
Reichel's Engl. transl., p. 215.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 131
But certain external things are auxiliary to virtue, and these may be
called good, in a secondary sense ; and so external things, which
are unfavorable to virtue, may be termed evil. There is, also, a
third class of neutral things, not being either advantageous or hurt
ful in this relation. Thus the Stoics discussed the question whether
fame is a preferable, and on this point were divided in opinion.
Stoicism was cosmopolitan. It brought in the idea of a citizen
ship of the world. There is one community, one state, one set
of laws. To this one state, all particular states are related, as
are the houses in a city to one another. The sage labors that
all may recognize themselves as one flock, and dwell together
under the common rule of reason. Under the influence of this
sentiment, Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus utter counsels which
resemble the New Testament injunctions of brotherly patience and
lenity.1 One must give himself up with perfect resignation to the
course of the world. There is a rationality and wisdom in it ;
hence the duty of perfect, uncomplaining submission to things as
they occur. " You must accuse neither God nor man," says Epic
tetus.2 "That," says M. Aurelius, " is for the good of each thing,
which the universal nature brings to each." 3
The Roman Stoicism departed in certain particulars from the
rigorous doctrines of the founders of the sect. There is a recog
nition, though not definite and uniform, of the personality of God,
of the reality of the soul as distinct from the body, and of the con
tinuance of personal life after death. Especially in Seneca, the
Stoic philosophy assumes a very mitigated aspect. Self-sufficiency
gives way to a sense of weakness and imperfection, which in
terms is allied to Christian feeling. There is a paragraph in his
treatise on Clemency, in which he describes the sinfulness of man
kind in language which reminds one of the Apostle Paul.4 Like
Plato, he ascribes the creation to the goodness of God. Men are
the children of God.0 The sufferings of good men are the fatherly
chastisement inflicted by Him. It is good for men to be afflicted ;
those who have not experienced adversity are objects of pity.
" Pray and live," he says, "as if the eye of God were upon you." (i
" Live every day as if it were the last."7
1 See Marcus Aurelius, Meditations ^\. 44 ; Epictetus, Discourses, III. xxii. 54.
2 Discourses, iii. xxii. 13. 5 De Prov., I. Cf. De Bencf., ii. 29.
3 Med., x. 20, cf. x. 21. 6 P.p., x.
4 Ad Marc., xxiv.; see, also, vi. 7 Ibid., xii.
132 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
The obligation to cherish just and human feelings is fre
quently asserted by Seneca. "Wherever a man is," he says,
"there is room for doing good."1 He condemns gladiatorial
shows.2 He declares that " slaves are our fellow-servants," and are
to be kindly treated.3
The coincidences between the moral teaching of Seneca and
that of the New Testament are numerous and striking.4 The
personal character of Seneca fell below his own exalted stand
ard of independence and excellence. But in Epictetus and
Marcus Aurelius, theoretic principles were better exemplified as
well as taught.
The resemblance of parts of Stoic teaching to passages in the
New Testament has naturally been thought to indicate an influ
ence from one side to the other. We know that the Apostle Paul
was not a stranger to Stoic teaching, one of the centres of which
was at Tarsus. At Athens he encountered Epicurean and Stoic
philosophers.5 In his address on the Areopagus he quoted, to sup
port his own doctrine, part of a verse found in two heathen poets.6
Passages in Epictetus in their import, and to some extent in phrase
ology, remind us of passages in the Evangelists. Of one of those
passages 7 Lightfoot observes : " I can hardly believe that the coin
cidence is quite accidental. Combined with numerous parallels
in Seneca's writings collected above (pp. 281 seq.), it favors the
supposition that our Lord's discourses in some form or other were
early known to heathen writers." 8 As to personal character,
Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius are not open to the criticism which
Seneca, the tutor of Nero, fully deserves. Epictetus stands at
the head of all the Stoic writers in the substance and in the spirit
and tone of his utterance.. The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius
contain much that a Christian can read with earnest sympathy.
In these writers Stoicism has lost much of its austerity and breathes
a gentler spirit. A fictitious correspondence between Paul and the
Roman philosopher was composed, probably, in the fourth century.
It is possible that through intercourse with Christian slaves Seneca
had gained some knowledge of the moral teaching of the gospel.
But the evidence of a direct influence from the Christian side we
1 De Vita Beata, 24. 2 Ep., vii. 3 Ibid., xlvii.
4 See Lightfoot, Dissertations on the Apostolic Age, pp. 259 seq.
5 Acts xvii. 1 8. c Ibid., ver. 28. 7 Discourses, iii. 22, 2 seq.
8 Lightfoot, Dissertations, etc., p. 302, N. i. See, also, N. 3.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 133
must not exaggerate. The sayings of Seneca, which " at first sight
strike us by their resemblance to the language of the Apostles and
Evangelists," when they are examined in their connection make
a different impression. His most striking sentences are in a set
ting quite adverse to Christian teaching." " In his fundamental
principles, he is a disciple of Zeno." l
It is a question how far this widening of sympathy, which we see
in Stoicism, sprang from the indirect effect of gospel teaching
upon the general currents of thought outside of the pale of the
Church. Without denying that an influence of the character de
scribed was felt to some extent, it is yet possible to make too
much of such a modifying agency. It is an evident fact that the
tendency of political events and of philosophic thought — we might
say, of the whole course of history — had been conducive to a more
cosmopolitan view, a more catholic sympathy. The soil by degrees
was becoming ready to receive the good seed of the gospel. The
Stoic conception of a universal city, the idea of a common country
of the race, are conceptions found in Roman writers from the time
of Cicero, and, along with them, at least in theory, a broader spirit of
humanity. For an explanation of phenomena of this nature we
must not overlook the providential development within the con
fines of heathenism itself. Apart from Christian influence, they
meet us in Lucan, in Plutarch, and in the letters of the younger
Pliny.2
When we bring the Stoical philosophy into comparison with
Christianity, we discern some marked characteristics of a general
nature which they have in common. First, Stoicism was an emi
nently practical system. It sought to determine how men should
live, and how they could be prepared to bear trouble, and to die
with composure. Secondly, like Christianity, it exalted inward, or
spiritual excellence. All outward things are counted as nothing.
The Stoic held power, fame, wealth, even health and life, as pos
sessions to be resigned without a murmur. Independence, inward
freedom, was deemed the pearl of great price.3 And thirdly, there
are certain sayings, and there are special injunctions, some of
1 Lightfoot, ibid., pp. 276 seq.
2 See, for example, his Letter on the death of his slaves, to Paternus
(viii. 1 6), or his Letter occasioned by the death of the daughter of Fundanus
(v. 16).
3 See the chapter of Epictetus on " Freedom," DJ'SS., iv. I.
134 T11E GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
which have been cited, in which the expressions of Stoic teachers
approach near to the precepts of the Christian religion.
The differences between Stoicism and the gospel are equally
apparent. The resemblance between the two systems is seen, on
a deeper study, to be more superficial than one would expect, and
the discordance to be radical in its character.
1. The basis of Stoicism, which was a crass materialism, is
inconsistent with personal communion with God, and involves the
logical consequences of Pantheism. Seneca, along with his pious
and humane expressions, inconsistently " identifies God with fate,
with necessity, with nature, with the world as a living whole.
Hence he speaks of the Supreme Deity, under the designation
" Jupiter," in language that would be blasphemous if it fell from
the lips of a Christian theist.1
2. Stoicism makes virtue the ethical end. But Christianity,
while giving the first place to holiness, is not indifferent to happi
ness. Love, the essential principle in Christian morals, is itself a
source of joy, and seeks the happiness of its object. The Cynics
were the precursors of the Stoics, and the leaven of Cynicism was
never wholly expelled from the Stoic teaching. We find when
we scrutinize the Stoical idea of virtue that it is practically self-
regarding. It is not the good of others, but a subjective serenity,
which is really sought for. The more benevolent feeling in the
later type of Stoicism involves only a partial desertion of the
essential characteristics of the school.
3. The Stoic definition of virtue is formal, not material. It
gives a certain relation of virtue, but not its contents. What that
life is which is conformed to nature and swayed by reason, is not
set forth in the definition.
4. We are furnished with no concrete or exact conception of
" nature." " Live according to nature," we are told ; but no
criterion is presented for distinguishing between the original nature
of man, and the corruption resulting from human perversity and
sin. It is remarkable that Seneca acknowledges the need of a
moral ideal, a pattern by which we can shape our conduct. He
advises us to revolve the examples of good men and heroes, like
Cato, in order to draw from them guidance ; though he admits
their imperfection and consequent insufficiency for this end. It
is a grand distinction of Christianity that it alone supplies this
1 For the reference, see Lightfoot, Dissertations, etc., pp. 277, 278.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 135
need by presenting human nature, the realized ideal, in its purity
and perfection, in the person of Christ.
5. Stoicism supposes a possible incompatibility between the
welfare of the individual and the course of the world. It implies
a discordance in nature, which is in violation of a primary assump
tion that the system is harmonious. For the Stoics approved of
suicide. Zeno and Cleanthes destroyed their own lives. Seneca
praises Cato for killing himself. " If the house smokes, go out of
it,"1 is the laconic mode of advising suicide in case one finds his
condition unbearable — a phrase which we find in Epictetus and
Marcus Aurelius. There might be situations, it was held, when it
is undignified or dishonorable to continue to live. Poverty, chronic
illness, or incipient weakness of mind were deemed a sufficient
reason for terminating one's life. It was the means of baffling a
tyrant, which nature had given to the weak ; as Cassius is made to
say: —
" Life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself." 2
Seneca says that a man may choose the mode of his death, as
one chooses a ship for a journey, or a house to live in. Life
and death are among the adiaphora — things indifferent, which
may be chosen or rejected according to circumstances. How
contrary is all this to the Christian feeling ! The Christian be
lieves in a Providence which makes all things work together for
his good, and believes that there are no circumstances in which he
is authorized to lay violent hands upon himself. There is no sit
uation in which he cannot live with honor, and with advantage to
himself as long as God chooses to continue him in being.
Hence, in the Scriptures there is no express prohibition of
suicide, and no need of one.
6. Stoicism exhibits no rational ground for the passive virtues,
which are so prominent in the Stoic morals. There is no rational
end of the cosmos, no grand and worthy consummation toward
which the course of the world is tending. Evil is not overruled to
subserve a higher good to emerge at the last. There is no inspir
ing future on which the eye of the sufferer can be fixed. The goal
that bounds his vision is the conflagration of all things. Hence
1 Epictetus, Discourses, I. xxv. 18. The same simile is frequently used.
Compare Seneca, Epp., xvii., xxiv., xxvi.
2 Shakespeare, Jiditis Ccesar, Act. I. sc. i.
136 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
there is no basis for reconciliation to sorrow and evil. Christianity,
in the doctrine of the kingdom of God, furnishes the element
which Stoicism lacked, and thus provides a ground for resignation
under all the ills of life, and amid the confusion and wickedness of
the world. For the same reason, the character of Christian resig
nation is different from the Stoic composure. It is submission to
a wise and merciful Father, who sees the end from the beginning.
Hence, there is no repression of natural emotions, as of grief in
case of bereavement ; but these are tempered, and prevented
from overmastering the spirit, by trust in the Heavenly Father.
In the room of an impassible serenity, an apathy secured by
stifling natural sensibility, there is the peace which flows from filial
confidence.
7. Much less does Stoicism afford a logical foundation for the
active virtues. The doctrine of fatalism, if consistently carried
out, paralyzes exertion. And how is the motive for aggressive
virtue weakened, when the ultimate result of all effort is annihila
tion — the destruction of personal life, and the return of the uni
verse to chaos !
8. The cosmopolitan quality of Stoicism was negative. Zeno's
idea of a universal community, transcending the barriers imposed
by separate nationalities, shows that the ancient order of things
failed to satisfy the spirit, aspiring after a wider communion. Strik
ing sentences in Seneca l indicate that the limitations essential to
ancient thought, which knew no fellowship broader than that of the
State, were broken through. But such a community as Zeno and
Seneca dreamed of, did not and could not arise, until the kingdom
of Christ was established on earth. Then these obscure aspirations,
and grand but impracticable visions, became a reality.
9. The predominant motive which the Stoic moralists present
for the exercise of forbearance and the kindred virtues is not love,
but rather fealty to an ideal of character, the theory that sin is from
ignorance, and is involuntary, which turns resentment into pity,
and the consideration that everything is fated, and, in its place,
useful. The offender is often regarded with a feeling akin to dis
dain. Among the ten motives to forbearance which -Marcus
Anrelius addresses to himself are some on which Christianity
also insists. The sweeping remark, which is sometimes heard
from the pulpit, that the duty of forgiving injuries was not known
1 See De Benef., iii. 18.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 137
to the heathen moralists, is not true. Clemency is an impulse of
human nature as truly as resentment. Christianity introduced no
new element into the constitution of the soul. It gave fresh mo
tives for the exercise of forbearance, and, by its power to conquer
selfishness, imparted to the benevolent sentiments a control which
had never belonged to them before. It is likewise evident that
the false metaphysics of the Stoic school played an important part
in producing the temper of forbearance which they inculcated. Sin
is ignorance, sin is fated, sin is for the best, anger disturbs the
peace of the soul, — these are prominent among the reasons for
the exercise of forbearance.1
10. The self- sufficiency of Stoicism stands in direct antagonism
to Christian humility. The independence of the individual, the
power to stand alone as regards men and the gods, is the acme of
Stoical attainment. The Stoic felt himself on the level of Zeus,
both being subject to fate ; and he aimed to find the sources of
strength and peace within himself. Christianity, on the contrary,
finds the highest good in the complete fellowship of man, sensible
of his absolute dependence, with God. The starting-point is
humility, a feeling the antipode of Stoical pride and self-asser
tion. It is a noteworthy but not inexplicable fact, that while
many from the Platonic school, in the first centuries, became
Christian disciples, very few Stoics embraced the Gospel. Not
withstanding the points indicative of resemblance and affinity,
there was a radical antagonism between the two systems.
The Greek philosophy reached the limit of its development in
New Platonism, as taught in the first centuries of the Christian era
by Plotinus, and his successors, Porphyry and Jamblichus, and by
Proclus, the last eminent representative of this school.2 Scepti
cism, the consequence of the bewildering conflict of philosophical
theories, left no resting-place for minds of a religious turn. Their
natural refuge was in mysticism, where feeling and intuition super
sede the slow arid doubtful processes of the intellect. Plotinus
found in Platonism the starting-point and principal materials for
his speculations ; although the reconciliation of philosophies, and
especially of the two masters, Plato and Aristotle, was a prominent
part of his effort.
1 See Epictetus, Discourses, IV. v. 32.
2 Plotinus was born A.D. 204, and died A.D. 269.
138 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
With Plotinus, the absolute Being, the antecedent of all that
exists, is impersonal, the ineffable unity, exalted above all vicissi
tude and change. The idea of a creative activity on the part of
God is thus excluded. Emanation, after a Pantheistic conception,
would seem to be the method by which the universe originates
from the primary being ; yet this notion is discarded, since it
would imply division in this being, and the imparting of a portion
of its contents. Matter is evil, and the original fountain of evil.
The human soul finds its purification only in separating itself from
the material part with which it here stands in connection. The
highest attainment and perfect blessedness lie in the ecstatic con
dition, in which the soul rises to the intuition and embrace of the
Supreme Entity, sinking for the time its own individuality in this
rapturous union with the Infinite.
While the Platonic idea of resemblance to God, as the life and
soul of virtue, is held in form, its practical value is lost by this
sacrifice of personality in the object toward which we are to
aspire. The "civil virtues" — wisdom, courage, temperance, and
justice — are retained; but higher than these are placed the puri
fying or cathartic virtues, by which the soul emancipates itself
from subjection to sense; while the highest achievement is the
elevation to God, where the consciousness of personal identity is
drowned in the beatific contemplation of the Supreme.
This kind of rapture is possible only to elect spirits, who are
qualified by superior endowments for so lofty an ascent. The
supercilious tone of the ancient philosophy, the notion of an oli
garchy of philosophers, to whom the common herd are subservient,
is thus maintained to the full in this final phase of Greek thought.
"The life which is merely human," says Plotinus, "is twofold,
the one being mindful of virtue and partaking of a certain good :
but the other pertaining to the vile rabble, and to artificers who
minister to the necessities of more worthy men." l Asceticism
was the natural offspring of a system in which all that is corporeal
is evil. Superstition, especially in the form of magic and sorcery,
was likewise conspicuous in Jamblichus, and in the other later
devotees of this school.
Christianity holds to a possible illumination of the human mind,
and to a blessed communion with God. But this is not a boon
open only to a few who are raised intellectually above the rest of
1 £nn., ii. 9.
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 139
mankind. The egoistic absorption of the individual in his own
mental states, where the idea of doing good is banished from
thought, or supplanted by a contempt for mankind generally, is
abhorrent to the spirit of the gospel. Self-purification is an
end which the Christian sets before him ; but he pursues it, not
in the way of mystic contemplation, but by the daily practice of
all the virtues of character.1
What were the actual resources of philosophy? What power
had it to assuage grief, to qualify the soul for the exigencies
of life, and to deliver it from the fear of death? An instructive
answer to this inquiry may be gathered from the works of Cicero.
Humanity, in the sense of a philanthropic regard for the race, is
a word frequently upon his lips. In his political course, how
ever, and in dealing with ethical questions in the concrete, Cicero
too often failed to exemplify these liberal maxims. There is a
like failure to realize practically his religious theories. He appro
priates not without sympathy whatever is best in the Greek philo
sophical writers before him. In his work on the Nature of the
Gods, and in that on Divination, he shows the folly of polytheism,
and of the cultus connected with it. He wishes that it were as
easy to discover the truth as to confute error.2 He is a Theist,
preferring to follow Plato in the belief in a personal God, rather
than the Stoics in their dogma of the impersonal spirit of nature.
He finds in the wonderful order of the world irresistible evidence
of the supreme Mind. He sees a corroboration of this faith in
the concurrent judgments of men, as evinced in the universal
prevalence of religion. Equally strenuous is he in maintaining
that the soul is immaterial and immortal.3 But we have the
opportunity of testing the character of his convictions when he
is brought into circumstances of keen distress. What was the
practical force and value of these opinions? We can see from
the Tusculan Discussions which he composed when he was sixty-
two years of age, after the death of his beloved daughter Tullia,
and from his correspondence after this blow with Servius Sulpicius.
When he is himself plunged into affliction, we find that neither
1 This difference is clearly set forth by Neander ( Wissenschaftl. Abhandl.,
p. 213), in an essay to which the present writer owes the early stimulus given
to the study of the subject of this chapter.
2 De Nat. Deorum, i. 32.
8 E.g. Disp. Tusc., I. xxvii., xxviii.
140 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
he nor his intimate friends who strive to console him think of
the truths on which he has eloquently descanted. There is a
striking contrast between the discourses composed for the public
eye, and the familiar letters which passed between him and these
friends. In neither of his letters to Sulpicius is there the slightest
reference to God, or to a future life. Cicero's treatise on Old
Age is another monument of the vain attempt to elevate consid
erations which, when merely subordinate and auxiliary, have their
value, into prime sources of consolation. The doctrine of the
future life, even in Plutarch, is not set forth as a firm conviction,
but only as a probability; and he makes an argument in behalf
of serenity, on the hypothesis, which is admitted to be not abso
lutely disproved, that death is the dissipation of our being, and
the termination, therefore, of pain as well as of joy. The Stoic
element which mingled in the character of Socrates, an element
which is quite discernible in Plato's account of his Apology to his
judges, crops out occasionally in the Platonic Dialogues, though
connected with other tenets not consonant with the Stoical
system.
In Cicero's time, and in the century that followed, faith in the
immortality of the soul is mostly confined to minds imbued with
the Platonic influence. Julius Caesar treated the idea of a survival
of the soul as a chimera.1 Tacitus, in the beautiful passage at the
close of the Life of Agricola, refers to the opinion of philoso
phers that exalted souls may survive the body, but treats it
as only a possibility.
Philosophy yielded a certain amount of strength and solace to
able and cultivated men ; an increased amount, we may say,
among the Romans, in the second century as compared with the
age that witnessed the introduction of Christianity. Philosophers
sometimes acted, from their point of view, not unworthily the part
of spiritual counsellors. The Stoics looked forward to a continu
ance for an indefinite, though limited, period, of personal life
beyond the grave. Platonists may not frequently have cherished
a larger hope. But it must be remembered that philosophy
exerted no appreciable influence on the mass of mankind, either
in the way of restraint or of inspiration. They were left in the
adversities of life, in sickness, in bereavement, and in death, to
such consolation as was to be drawn from the old mythological
1 Sallust (B.C. 50).
ETHICAL AND RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF CHRISTIANITY 141
system. The epitaphs in memory of the dead in some cases
betray a gross materialism, in other cases a bitter and resentful
despair ; while many express a hope in behalf of the beloved who
are gone, which is slow to be quenched in the human heart.
When we look back upon the ancient philosophy in its entire
course, we find in it nothing nearer to Christianity than the saying
of Plato that man is to resemble God. But, on the path of specu
lation, how defective and discordant are the conceptions of God !
And if God were adequately known, how shall the fetters of evil be
broken, and the soul attain to its ideal ? It is just these questions
that Christianity meets through the revelation of God in Jesus
Christ. God, the Head of that universal society on which Cicero
delighted to dwell, and ruling with no divided control, is brought,
in all His holiness and love, near to the apprehension and to the
hearts, not of a coterie of philosophers merely, but of the humble
and ignorant. The words of Jesus, spoken of the Hebrew Law
givers and Prophets, are applicable to the best of the Stoic Sages,
and to Plato — unconscious though they were of their intermediary
function — " I am not come to destroy but to fulfil." There is a
real release from the burden of evil, achieved through Christ,
actually for himself in his own spotless purity, and potentially
for mankind. How transfigured in their whole character are
the ethical maxims which, as to form, may not be without a
parallel in heathen sages ! Forgiveness, forbearance, pity for the
poor, universal compassion, are no longer abstractions, derived
from speculation on the attributes of Deity. They shine out in
the example of God. He has so dealt with us in the mission and
death of His Son.1 The Cross of Christ was the practical power
that abolished artificial distinctions among mankind, and made
human brotherhood a reality. In this new setting, ethical pre
cepts gain a depth of earnestness and a force of impression which
ethnic philosophy could never impart. We might as well expect
from starlight the brightness and warmth of a noonday sun.
1 See Col. iii. 12; Eph. iv. 32; I Pet. ii. 18; 2 Cor. x. i; Luke xxii. 27;
John xiii. 14 ; I John iii. 16 ; 2 Cor. viii. 9 ; Eph. v. 2 ; Phil. ii. 7 ; and the
New Testament passim.
CHAPTER VII
THE CONSCIOUSNESS IN JESUS OF A SUPERNATURAL CALLING RENDERED
CREDIBLE BY HIS SINLESS CHARACTER
WRITERS on the evidences of Christianity, after some introduc
tory observations on natural theology, generally take up at once
the subject of the genuineness and credibility of the Gospels,
for the obvious reason that in these books, if anywhere, is preserved
the authentic testimony to the facts connected with the life of
Jesus. There are reasons, however, of special weight at present,
why this leading topic may well be deferred to a somewhat later
stage of the discussion. Notwithstanding differences of opinion
respecting the authorship and date of the New Testament narra
tives, there are not wanting grounds for accepting as true the es
sential facts which form the basis of the Christian faith. It is
important to remember, that besides these books, there exist
other memorials, written and unwritten, of the events with which
we are concerned. We have St. Paul's Epistles, — the most promi
nent of which are not contested even by the most sceptically
disposed, — the oldest of which, probably, the first to the Thes-
salonians, was written certainly as early as the year 53. But, more
than this, there are cogent proofs, and there are strong probabil
ities which may be gathered from known and admitted conse
quences of the life of Jesus among men. We can reason backwards.
Even a cursory glance at Christianity in the course of its acknowl
edged history, and as an existing phenomenon standing before the
eyes of all, is enough to convince everybody that something very
weighty and momentous took place in Palestine in connection with
the short career of Jesus. There followed, for example, indisput
ably, the preaching, the character, the martyrdom, of Apostles
appointed by him. The Church started into being. The com
position of the Gospels themselves, whenever and by whomsoever
it occurred, was an effect traceable ultimately to the life of Jesus.
142
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 143
How came they to be written ? How did what they relate of him
come to be believed? How came miracles to be attributed to
him, and not to John the Baptist and to Palestinian rabbis of the
time? Effects imply adequate causes. A pool of water in the
street may be explained by a summer shower, but not so the Gulf
Stream. Effects imply such causes as are adapted to produce
them. The results of a movement disclose its nature. When we
are confronted by historical phenomena, complex and far-reaching
in their character, we find that no solution will hold which subtracts
anything essential from the actual historic antecedents. If we
eliminate any of the conjoined causes, we find that something in
the aggregate effect is left unexplained. Moreover, the elements
that compose a state of things which gives rise to definite histori
cal consequences are braided together. They do not easily allow
themselves to be disconnected from one another. Pry out one
stone from an arch, and the entire structure will fall. It is a prov
erb that a liar must have a long memory. It is equally true that
an historical critic exposes himself to peril whenever he ventures
on the task of constructing a situation in the past, a combination
of circumstances, materially diverse from the reality. Events as
they actually occur constitute a web from which no part can be
torn without being instantly missed. History, then, has a double
verification ; first, in the palpable effects that are open to every
body's inspection ; and secondly, in the connected relation, the
internal cohesion, of the particulars that compose the scene. Let
any one try the experiment of subtracting from the world's history
any signal event, like the battle of Marathon, the teaching of Aris
totle, or the usurpation of Julius Caesar. He will soon be convinced
of the futility of the attempt ; and this apart from the violence that
must be done to direct historical testimonies.
Matthew Arnold tells us, that "there is no evidence of the
establishment of our four Gospels as a gospel canon, or even of
their existence as they now finally stand at all, before the last
quarter of the second century."1 This statement in both of its
parts needs correction. The theory at the basis of such views, of
a gradual selection of the four out of a large group of competitive
Gospels, and of the growth of them by a slow process of accretion,
is untenable. It can be proved to rest on a misconception of the
state of things in the early Church, and to be open to other insu-
1 God and the Bible, p. 224.
144 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
perable objections. But let the assumption contained in the quo
tation above be allowed, for the present, to stand. Such authors
as Strauss, Renan, Keim, notwithstanding their rejection of re
ceived opinions respecting the authorship and date of the Gospels,
do not hesitate to draw from them the materials for their biogra
phies of Jesus. They undertake, to be sure, to subject them to a
sifting process. We have to complain that their dissection is too
often arbitrary, being dictated by some presupposition merely sub
jective, or determined by the exigencies of a theory. Professing
to be scientific, they are warped by what is really an unscientific
bias. But large portions of the evangelic narratives they hold to
be authentic. If they did not do this, they would have to lay
down the pen. Their vocation as historians would be gone.
We may inquire then what will follow, if we take for granted no
more of the contents of the Gospels than what is conceded to be
true, — no more, at any rate, than what can be proved on the spot
to be veritable history. Waiving, for the moment, — as we have
done in the foregoing pages, — controverted questions about the
origin of these books, let us see what conclusions can be fairly
deduced from portions of them which no rational critic will con
sider fictitious. Having proceeded as far as we may on this path,
it will then be in order to inquire whether the Gospels are not to
be classed in the list of genuine and trustworthy narratives, in
opposition to the opinion that they are of later origin, and com
pounded of fact and fiction.
I. The known assertions of Jesus respecting his calling, and
his authority among men, if they are not well founded, imply
either a lack of mental sanity, or a deep perversion of char
acter ; but neither of these last alternatives can be reasonably
accepted.
No one can reasonably doubt that Jesus professed to be the
Christ — the Messiah. The time and manner of making this
declaration can be considered hereafter. This the apostles from
the first, in their preaching, declared him to be. They went out
preaching, first of all, that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah. It
was on account of this claim that he was put to death. Before
his judges, Jewish and Roman, he for the most part kept silent.
Seeing that they were blinded by passion, or swayed by purely
selfish motives, he abstained from useless appeals to reason and
conscience. But he broke silence to avow that he was indeed
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 145
the king, the "Son of God," — a title of the Messiah.1 It was
held by the Jewish magistrates to be a blasphemous pretension.2
He made it clear, then and at other times, what sort of a kingship
it was which he asserted for himself. It was not a temporal sov
ereignty, " a kingdom of this world " ; no force was to be used in
the founding or extension of it. It was, however, a control far
deeper and wider than any secular rule. He was the monarch of
souls. His right was derived immediately from God. His legis
lation reached down to the inmost motives of action, and covered
in its comprehensive principles all the particulars of conduct. In
the Sermon on the Mount he spoke with an authority which was
expressly contrasted with that of all previous lawgivers counted to
be inspired by those who heard Him — " But / say unto you," etc.3
To his precepts he annexed penalties and rewards which were to
be endured and received even beyond the grave. Nay, his call
was to all to come to him, to repose in him implicit trust as a
moral and religious guide. He laid claim to the absolute alle
giance of every soul. To those who complied he promised blessed
ness in the life to come. There can be no doubt that he assumed
to exercise the prerogative of pardoning sin. Apart from declara
tions, uttered in an authoritative tone, of the terms on which God
would forgive sin,4 he assured particular individuals of the pardon
of their transgressions. He taught that his death stood in the closest
relation to the remission of sins by the judge of all the earth. The
divine clemency toward the sinful is somehow linked to it. He
founded a rite on this efficacy of his death, — a part of his teaching
which is not only recorded by three of the gospel writers, but is fur
ther placed beyond doubt by the testimony of the apostle Paul.5 He
uttered, there is no reason to doubt, the largest predictions con
cerning the spread of his spiritual empire. It was to have the
transforming power of leaven. It was to be like the plant which
springs from the tiny mustard-seed.6 The agency of God would
be directed to securing its progress and triumph. The Providen
tial government of the world would be shaped with reference to
this end.
1 Matt. xxvi. 64, xxvii. 1 1, cf. vers. 29, 37; Mark xiv. 62, xv. 2, cf. vers. 9,
12, 1 8, 26 ; Luke xxii. 70, xxiii. 2, cf. vers. 2, 38 ; John xviii. 33, 37, cf. ver.
39, xix. 3, 14, 19, 21. 2Matt. xxvi. 65 ; Mark xiv. 64.
3 Matt. v. 22, 28, 34, 39, 44. 5 i Cor. xi. 25.
4 Ibid., v. 26, vi. 14, 15. 6 Matt. xiii. 31-33 ; Luke xiii. 19-21.
i.
[46 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
We have stated in moderate terms the claims put forth by Jesus.
These statements, or their equivalent, enter into the core of the
evangelic tradition. Not only are they admitted to be authen
tic passages in the Gospels, but their historic reality is presup
posed in the first teaching of Christianity by the Apostles, and
must be assumed in order to account for the rise of the Church.
Let it be remembered that these pretensions are put forth by a
person with no advantages of social position. He is brought up
in a village not held in esteem by the religious leaders of the time.
On his fellow-villagers generally he has made no lasting impres
sion. He has barely passed the limit of youth. When he appears
among them as a teacher, they refer to his connection with a family
in the midst of them in a tone to imply that they had known of
nothing to kindle a remarkable expectation concerning him.1
For this passage in the Gospel narrative bears indisputable marks
of authenticity.
What shall be said of such claims, put forth by such a person,
or by any human being ? No doubt the first impression in such a
case would be, that he had lost his reason. If there is not wilful im
posture, it would be said, it must be a case of mental derangement.
Nothing else can explain so monstrous a delusion. Imagine that a
young man who has always lived quietly at home in a country town
presents himself in one of our large cities, and announces himself
there, and to his fellow-townsmen, and wherever else he can gain
a hearing, as the representative of God ; summons all, the high
and low, the educated and ignorant, to accept him as a special
messenger from Heaven, to obey him implicitly, to break every
tie which interferes with absolute obedience to him, — to hate, as
it were, father and mother, wife and children, for his cause. He
proceeds, we will suppose, in the name of God, to issue injunc
tions for the regulation of the thoughts even, as well as of external
conduct, to forgive the sins of one and another evil-doer, and to
warn all who disbelieve in him and disregard his commandments,
that retribution awaits them in the future life. It being made
clear that he is not an impostor, the inference would be drawn at
once that his reason is unsettled. This, in fact, is the common
judgment in such cases. To entertain the belief that one is the
Messiah is a recognized species of insanity. It is taken as proof
positive of mental aberration. This is the verdict of the courts.
1 Matt. xiii. 55-57; Mark vi. 3, 4; Luke iv. 22.
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 147
Erskine, the famous Scottish lawyer, in one of his celebrated
speeches,1 adverts to an instance of this kind of lunacy. A man
who had been confined in a mad-house prosecuted the keeper, Dr.
Sims, and his own brother, for unlawful detention. Erskine, be
fore he had been informed of the precise nature of his delusion,
examined the prosecutor without eliciting any signs of mental
unsoundness. At length, learning what the particular character of
the mental disorder was, the great lawyer, with affected reverence,
apologized for his unbecoming treatment of the witness in pre
suming thus to interrogate him. The man expressed his forgive
ness, and then, with the utmost gravity, in the face of the whole
court, said, " I am the Christ ! " He deemed himself " the Lord
and Saviour of mankind." Nothing further, of course, was re
quired for the acquittal of the persons charged with unjustly
confining him.
When it is said that claims like those of Jesus, unless they can
be sustained, are indicative of mental derangement, we may be
pointed, by way of objection, to founders of other systems of re
ligion. But among these no parallel instance can be adduced to
disprove the position here taken. Confucius can hardly be styled
a religious teacher ; he avoided, as far as he could, all reference
to the supernatural. His wisdom was of man, and professed no
higher origin. A sage, a sagacious moralist, he is not to be clas
sified with pretenders to divine illumination. Of Zoroaster we
know so little, that it is utterly impossible to tell what he affirmed
respecting his relation to God. The very date of his birth is now
set back by scholars to a point at least five hundred years earlier
than the time previously assigned for it. Of him, one of the
authorities remarks, "The events of his life are almost all en
shrouded in darkness, to dispel which will be forever impossible,
should no authentic historical records be discovered in Bactria,
his home." 2 A still later writer goes farther : '* When he lived,
no one knows ; and every one agrees that all that the Parsis and
the Greeks tell of him is mere legend, through which no solid his
torical facts can be arrived at."3 Thus the history of the princi-
1 In behalf of Hadfield, indicted for firing a pistol at the king.
2 Haug, Essays on the Laws, Writings, and Religion cf the Parsis (2d ed.,
Boston, 1868), p. 295.
3 The Zend-Avesta, translated by J. Darmesteter (Oxford, 1880), Intr., p.
Ixxvi.
148 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
pal teacher of one of the purest and most ancient of the ethnic
religions is veiled in hopeless obscurity. With respect to Buddha,
or Sakyamuni, it is not impossible to separate main facts in his
career from the mass of legendary matter which has accumulated
about them. But the office which he took on himself was not
even that of a prophet. He was a philanthropist, a reformer.
The supernatural features of his history have been grafted upon it
by later generations. An able scholar has described Buddhism
as " a religion which ignores the existence of God, and denies the
existence of the soul." ] " Buddhism is no religion at all, and cer
tainly no theology, but rather a system of duty, morality, and be
nevolence, without real deity, prayer, or priest." 2 Mohammed
unquestionably believed himself inspired, and clothed with a di
vine commission. Beyond the ferment excited in his mind by the
vivid perception of a single great, half-forgotten truth, we are aided
in explaining his self-delusion, as far as it was a delusion, by due
attention to morbid constitutional tendencies which occasioned
epileptic fits, as well as to reveries and trances. Moreover, there
were vices of character which played an important part in nour
ishing his fanatical convictions. These must be taken into the
account. It is not maintained here that religious enthusiasm
which passes the limits of truth should always raise a suspicion of
insanity. We are not called upon by the necessities of the argu
ment to point out the boundary-line where reason is unhinged.
Socrates was persuaded that a demon or spirit within kept him
back from unwise actions. Whether right or wrong in this belief,
he was no doubt a man of sound mind. One may erroneously
conceive himself to be under supernatural guidance without being
literally irrational. But if Socrates, a mortal like the men about
him, had solemnly and persistently declared himself to be the
chosen delegate of the Almighty, and to have the authority and
the prerogatives which Jesus claimed for himself; had he declared,
just before drinking the hemlock, that his death was the means or
the guaranty of the forgiveness of sins, — the sanity of his mind
would not have been so clear.
Nor is there validity in the objection that times have changed,
so that an inference which would justly follow upon the assertion
of so exalted claims by a person now living would not be warranted
1 See Encycl. Brit., art. "Buddhism," by J. W. Rhys Davis.
2 Monier Williams, Hinduism (London, 1877), p. 74.
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 149
in the case of one living in that remote age, and in the community
to which Jesus belonged. The differences between that day and
this, and between Palestine, and America or England, are not of
a quality to lessen materially the difficulty of supposing that a man
in his right mind could falsely believe himself to be the King and
Redeemer of mankind. The conclusive answer to the objection
is, that the claims of Jesus were actually treated as preposterous.
They were scoffed at as most presumptuous by his contemporaries.
He was put to death for bringing them forward. Shocking blas
phemy was thought to be involved in such pretensions. It is true
that individuals in that era set up to be the Messiah, especially in
the tremendous contest with the Romans that ensued. But these
false Messiahs were impostors, or men in whom imposture and
wild fanaticism were mingled.
Mental disorder was then, and has been since, imputed to Jesus.
At the beginning of his public labors at Capernaum, his relatives,
hearing what excitement he was causing, and how the people
thronged upon him, so that he and his disciples could not snatch
a few minutes in which to take refreshment, for the moment feared
that he was " beside himself." ] No doubt will be raised about
the truth of this incident. It is not a circumstance which any
disciple, earlier or later, would have been disposed to invent. The
Pharisees and scribes charged that he was possessed of a demon.
According to the fourth Gospel, they said, " He hath a demon, and
is mad." 2 The credibility of the fourth evangelist here is assumed
by Renan.3 In Mark, the charge that he is possessed by the
prince of evil spirits immediately follows the record of the attempt
of his relatives " to lay hold on him." 4 Not improbably, the evan
gelist means to imply that mental aberration was involved in the
accusation of the scribes, as it is expressly said to have been
imputed to him by his family. This idea of mental alienation has
not come alone from the Galilean family in their amazement at the
commotion excited by Jesus, and in their solicitude on account of,
his unremitting devotion to his work. Nor has it been confined
1Mark iii. 21, cf. ver. 32. In ver. 21 e\eyov may have an indefinite subject,
and refer to a spreading report which the relatives — 01 Trap avrov — had
heard : so Ewald, Weiss, Marcusevangelium ad loc. Or it may denote what
was said by the relatives themselves : so Meyer.
* /j.aii>€Tai, John x. 20.
3 Renan, Vie de Jesus, I3th ed., p. 331. 4Mark iii. 21.
150 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
to the adversaries who were stung by his rebukes, and dreaded
the loss of their hold on the people. A recent writer, after speak
ing of Jesus as swept onward, in the latter part of his career, by a
tide of enthusiasm, says, " Sometimes one would have said that his
reason was disturbed." " The grand vision of the kingdom of God
made him dizzy." J " His temperament, inordinately impassioned,
carried him every moment beyond the limits of human nature." 2
These suggestions of Renan are cautiously expressed. He broaches,
as will be seen hereafter, an hypothesis still more revolting, for the
sake of clearing away difficulties which his Atheistic or Pantheistic
philosophy does not enable him otherwise to surmount. Yet he
does, though not without some signs of timidity, more than insin
uate that enthusiasm was carried to the pitch of derangement.
Reason is said to have lost its balance.
The words and conduct of Jesus can be considered extravagant
only on the supposition that his claims, his assertions respecting
himself, were exaggerated. His words and actions were not out
of harmony with these claims. It is in these pretensions, if any
where, that the proof of mental alienation must be sought. There
is nothing in the teaching of Christ, there is nothing in his ac
tions, to countenance in the least the notion that he was dazed
and deluded by morbidly excited feeling. Who can read the
Sermon on the Mount, and not be impressed with the perfect
sobriety of his temperament? Everywhere, in discourse and dia
logue, there is a vein of deep reflection. He meets opponents,
even cavillers, with arguments. When he is moved to indignation,
there is no loss of a cool self-possession. There is no vague
outpouring of anger, as of a torrent bursting its barriers. Every
item in the denunciation of the Pharisees is coupled with a dis
tinct specification justifying it.3 No single idea is seized upon
and magnified at the expense of other truths of equal moment.
No one-sided view of human nature is held up for acceptance.
A broad, humane spirit pervades the precepts which he uttered.
Asceticism, the snare of religious reformers, is foreign both to his
teaching and his example. Shall the predictions relative to the
spread of his kingdom, and to its influence on the world of man
kind, be attributed to a distempered fancy ? But how has history
vindicated them ! What is the history of the Christian ages but
1 " Lui donnait le vertige." 2 Vie de Jesus, I3th ed., p. 331.
8 Matt, xxiii.
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 151
the verification of that forecast which Jesus had of the effect of
his work, brief though it was ? Men who give up important parts
of the Christian creed discern, nevertheless, " the sweet reason
ableness " which characterizes the teaching, and, equally so, the
conduct, of Jesus. The calm wisdom, the inexhaustible depth be
comes daily more and more apparent as time flows on — is that
the offspring of a disordered brain ? That penetration into human
nature which laid bare the secret springs of action, which knew
men better than they knew themselves, piercing through every
mask — did that belong to an intellect unbalanced?
Jesus was no enthusiast, if that designation is taken to imply
an overplus of fervor or a heated imagination. If fanaticism is dis
tinguished from bare enthusiasm, as according to Isaac Taylor
it should be, by having in it an ingredient of hatred, no reproach
could be more unmerited than the ascription to Jesus of this
odious quality.
If we reject the hypothesis of mental weakness or disorder, we
are driven to the alternative of accepting the consciousness of
Jesus, with respect to his office and calling, as sane and veracious,
or of attributing to him moral depravation. He exalts himself
above the level of mankind. He places himself on an eminence
inaccessible to all other mortals. He conceives himself to stand
in a relation both to God and to the human race to which no
other human being can aspire. If, to speak of one thing, the
remission of sins is declared by churches or by the clergy, it is
always made conditional on repentance, and by an authority con
sidered to be derived from Christ. It would be a wild dream for
any other human being to imagine himself to be possessed of the
prerogatives which Jesus quietly assumes to exercise. Is this mere
assumption ? What an amount of self-ignorance does it not involve !
What self- exaggeration is implied in it ! If moral rectitude con
tains the least guaranty of self-knowledge, if purity of character
qualifies a man to know himself, and guard himself from seeking
to soar to an elevation to which he has not a shadow of a right,
then what shall be said of him who is guilty of self-deification, or
of what is almost equivalent? On the contrary, the holiness of
Jesus, if he was holy, is a ground for reposing confidence in his
convictions respecting himself.
If there is good reason to conclude that Jesus was a sinless man,
there is an equal reason for believing in him. It has been said,
152 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
even by individuals among the defenders of the faith, that, inde
pendently of miracles, his perfect sinlessness cannot be estab
lished. " But where," it has been said, " is the proof of perfect
sinlessness? No outward life and conduct could prove this,
because goodness depends on the inward motive, and the per
fection of the inward motive is not proved by the outward act.
Exactly the same act may be perfect or imperfect, according to
the spirit of the doer. The same language of indignation against
the wicked which issues from our Lord's mouth might be uttered
by an imperfect good man who mixed human frailty with the
emotion." 1 The importance of miracles as the counterpart and
complement of evidence of a different nature is not questioned.
It is not denied, that if, by proof, demonstration is meant, such
proof of the sinlessness of Jesus is precluded. Reasoning on such
a matter is, of course, probable. Nevertheless, it may be fully
convincing. On the same species of reasoning is the belief in the
testimony to miracles founded. How do we judge, respecting
any one whom we well know, whether he possesses one trait of
character, or lacks another? How do we form a decided opinion,
in many cases, with regard to the motives of a particular act, or in
respect to his habitual temper? It is by processes of inference
precisely similar to those by which we conclude that Jesus was
pure and holy. There are indications of perfect purity and holi
ness which exclude rational doubt upon the point. There are
phenomena, positive and negative, which presuppose faultless
perfection — which baffle explanation on any other hypothesis.
If there are facts which it is impossible to account for, in case
moral fault is conceived to exist, then the existence of moral fault
is disproved.
The virtue of Jesus, be it observed, was not an innocence which
was not tried by temptation, a virtue not tested in contact with
solicitations to evil. The story of the temptations that assailed
Jesus at the outset of his ministry is a picture of enticements that
could not be escaped in the situation in which he was placed.
To use for his own personal comfort and advantage the power
given of God for ends wholly unselfish, to presume on the favor
and miraculous protection of God, by rash and needless exposure
to perils, by adopting means, not consonant with the divine plan
and will, with a view to secure a rapid attainment of the end
1 Mozley, Lectures on Miracles, p. II.
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 153
set before him, the building up of the kingdom of righteousness
on earth — such were the temptations thrust in his way at the
beginning, and through the entire period of his contact with the
popular demands and expectations. The perfection of his char
acter was the result of an unerring resistance to specious allure
ments, which continued to the last. When the final test was
reached, his words, which had been the voice of his soul from
the outset, were, "Not my will, but thine, be done."1
It may be thought that we are at least incapable of proving the
sinlessness of Jesus until we have first established the ordinary
belief as to the origin of the Gospels. This idea is also a mistake.
Our impression of the character of Christ results from a great
number of incidents and conversations recorded of him. The
data of the tradition are miscellaneous, multiform. If there had
been matter, which, if handed down, would have tended to an
estimate of Jesus in the smallest degree less favorable than is
deducible from the tradition as it stands, who was competent,
even if anybody had been disposed, to eliminate it? What dis
ciples, earlier or later, had the keenness of moral discernment
which would have been requisite in order thus to sift the evangelic
narrative? Something, to say the least, — some words, some
actions, or omissions to act, — would have been left to stain the
fair picture. Moreover, the conception of the character of Jesus
which grows up in the mind on a perusal of the gospel records has
a unity, a harmony, a unique individuality, a verisimilitude. This
proves that the narrative passages which call forth this image in
the reader's mind are substantially faithful. The characteristics
of Jesus which are collected from them must have belonged to an
actual person.
In an exhaustive argument for the sinlessness of Jesus, one
point would be the impression which his character made on others.
What were the reproaches of his enemies? If there were faults,
vulnerable places, his enemies would have found them out. But
the offences which they laid to his charge are virtues. He asso
ciated with the poor and with evil-doers. But this was from love,
and from a desire to do them good. He was willing to do good
on the sabbath ; that is, he was not a slave to ceremony. He
honored the spirit, not the letter, of law. He did not bow to the
authority of pretenders to superior sanctity. Leaving out of view
1 Luke xxii. 42.
154 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
his claim to be the Christ, we cannot think of a single accusation
that does not redound to his credit. There is no reason to dis
trust the evangelic tradition, which tells us that a thief at his side
on the cross was struck with his innocence, and said, " This man
hath done nothing amiss." The centurion exclaimed, " Truly,
this was a righteous man ! " Since the narratives do not conceal
the insults offered to Jesus by the Roman soldiers, and the taunts
of one of the malefactors, there is no ground for ascribing to
invention the incidents last mentioned. But what impression as to
his character was made on the company of his intimate associ
ates? They were not obtuse, unthinking followers. They often
wondered that he did not take a different way of founding his
kingdom, and spoke out their dissatisfaction. They were not
incapable observers and critics of character. Peculiarities that
must have excited their surprise, they frankly related ; as that he
wept, was at times physically exhausted, prayed in an agony of
supplication. These circumstances must have come from the
original reporters. It is certain, that, had they marked anything
in Jesus which was indicative of moral infirmity, the spell that
bound them to him would have been broken. Their faith in him
would have been dissolved. It is certain that in the closest asso
ciation with him, in private and in public, they were more and
more struck with his blameless excellence. One of the most
convincing proofs of the perfect soundness of his moral judgment
and of its absolute freedom from personal bias, such even as an
unconscious influence of personal affection, as well as of his
unshrinking fidelity, is seen in his faithful dealing with his devoted
and beloved Disciples. Ready to pardon their deviations from
right under the pressure of temptation, his relation to them, even
to the most zealous of his followers, subtracted not an iota from
the pointed rebuke which he saw to be merited and for their
own good required. They parted from him at last with the
unanimous, undoubting conviction that not the faintest stain of
moral guilt rested on his spirit. He was immaculate. This was
a part of their preaching. Without that conviction on their part,
Christianity never could have gained a foothold on the earth.
There is not room here to dwell on that marvellous unison of
virtues in the character of Jesus, — virtues often apparently con
trasted. It was not piety without philanthropy, or philanthropy
without piety, but both in the closest union. It was love to God
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 155
and love to man, each in perfection, and both forming one spirit.
It was not compassion alone, not disunited from the sentiment of
justice ; nor was it rectitude, austere, unpitying. It was compas
sion and justice, the spirit of love and the spirit of truth, neither
clashing with the other. There was a deep concern for the soul
and the life to come, but no cynical indifference to human suffer
ing and well-being now. There was courage that quailed before
no adversary, but without the least ingredient of reckless daring,
and observant of the limits of prudence. There was a dignity
which needed no insignia to uphold it, yet was mixed with a sweet
humility. There was rebuke for the proudest, a relentless un
masking of sanctimonious oppressors of the poor, and the
gentlest words for the child, the suffering invalid, the penitent
evil-doer. There was a deep concern for the good of large bodies
of men, for the nation, for the race of mankind, yet a heartfelt
affection for the single family, a tender interest in the humblest
individual, even when unworthy.
There is one fact which ought to dispel every shadow of doubt
as to the absolute sinlessness of Jesus. Let this fact be seriously
pondered. He was utterly free from self-accusation, from the
consciousness of fault ; whereas, had there been a failure in duty,
his sense of guilt would have been intense and overwhelming.
This must have been the case had there been only a single lapse,
— one instance, even in thought, of infidelity to God and con
science. But no such offence could have existed by itself; it
would have tainted the character. Sin does not come and dis
appear, like a passing cloud. Sin is never a microscopic taint.
Sin is self-propagating. Its first step is a fall and the beginning
of a habit. We reiterate that a consciousness of moral defect
in such an one as we know that Jesus was, and as he is universally
conceded to have been, must infallibly have betrayed itself in the
clearest manifestations of conscious guilt, of penitence, or of
remorse. The extreme delicacy of his moral sense is perfectly
obvious. His moral criticism goes down to the secret recesses of
the heart. He demands, be it observed, j^-judgment : " First
cast the beam out of thine own eye;" "Judge not." His con
demnation of moral evil is utterly unsparing ; the very roots of it
in illicit desire are to be extirpated. He knows how sinful men
are. He teaches them all to pray, " Forgive us our debts " ; yet
there is not a scintilla of evidence that he ever felt the need of
156 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
offering that prayer for himself. From beginning to end there is
not a lisp of self- blame. He prays often, he needs help from
above ; but there is no confession of personal unworthiness. Men
generally are reminded of their sins when they are overtaken by
calamity. The ejaculations of Jesus in the presence of his inti
mate associates, when he was sinking under the burden of mental
sorrow, are transmitted, — and there is no sign whatever of a dis
position on the part of disciples to cloak his mental experiences,
or misrepresent them, — but not the slightest consciousness of
error is betrayed in these spontaneous outpourings of feeling.
" His was a piety with no consciousness of sin, and no expression
of repentance."1
Let the reader contrast this unbroken peace of conscience with
the self-chastisement of an upright spirit which has become alive
to the obligations of divine law, — the same law that Jesus in
culcated. " Oh, wretched man that I am ! " No language short
of this outcry will avail to express the abject distress of Paul.
There are no bounds to his self-abasement ; he is " the chief of
sinners." The burden of self-condemnation is too heavy for such
conscientious minds to carry. Had the will of Jesus ever suc
cumbed to the tempter, had moral evil ever found entrance into
his heart, is it possible that his humiliation would have been less,
or less manifest? That serene self-approbation would have fled
from his soul. He would have partaken of the spirit which he
depicted in the penitent Publican. Had the Great Teacher,
whose words are a kind of audible conscience ever attending us,
and are more powerful than anything else to quicken the sense
of obligation — had he so little moral sensibility as falsely to
acquit himself of blame before God? It is psychologically im
possible that he should have been blameworthy without knowing
it, without feeling it vividly, and without exhibiting compunction,
or remorse and shame, in the plainest manner. There was no
such consciousness, there was no such expression of guilt. There
fore he was without sin.
We have said that there is nothing in the evangelic tradition to
imply the faintest consciousness of moral evil in the mind of
Jesus. A single passage has been by some falsely construed as
containing such an implication. It may be worth while to notice
it. To the ruler who inquired what he should do to secure eternal
1 W. M. Taylor, The Gospel Miracles, etc., p. 50.
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 157
life, Jesus is said to have answered, "Why callest thou me good?
there is none good but one, that is God."1 There is another
reading of the passage in Matthew, which is adopted by Tischen-
dorf : " Why askest thou me concerning the good? There is one,"
etc.2 This answer is not unsuitable to the question, " What good
thing shall I do? " It points the inquirer to God. It is fitted to
suggest that goodness is not in particular doings, but begins in a
connecting of the soul with God. We cannot be certain, however,
whether Jesus made exactly this response, or said what is given in
the parallel passages in Mark and Luke. If the latter hypothesis be
correct, it is still plain that his design was simply to direct the
inquirer to God, whose will is the fountain of law. He disclaims
the epithet "good," and applies it to God alone, meaning that
God is the primal source of all goodness. Such an expression is
in full accord with the usual language of Jesus descriptive of his
dependence on God. The goodness of Jesus, though without
spot or flaw, was progressive in its development ; and this dis
tinction from the absolute goodness of God might justify the
phraseology which he employed.3 The humility of Jesus in his
reply to the ruler was far enough from that of an offender against
the divine law. Its ground was totally diverse.
There is a single occurrence narrated in the fourth Gospel,
which may be appropriately referred to in this place.4 Jesus said,
"I go not up to this feast:" the "yet" in both the Authorized
and the Revised Versions probably forms no part of the text.
" But when his brethren were gone up, then went he also up, not
openly, but, as it were, in secret." Can anybody think that the
author of the Gospel, whoever he was, understands, and means
that his readers shall infer, that the first statement to the brethren
was an intentional untruth? It is possible that new considerations,
not mentioned in the brief narration, induced Jesus to alter his
purpose. This is the opinion of Meyer.5 He may have waited,
as on certain other occasions, for a divine intimation, which came
sooner than it was looked for.6 "My time," he had said to his
1 Matt. xix. 17, cf. Mark x. 18; Luke xviii. 19.
2 rL fj.e epwrds irepl TOV ayadov ;
8 See Weiss, Mattk&isevangelium, ad loc. ; Biblische 7"heol., p. 71.
* John vii. 8, 10, 14. 5 Eva-tig. Johannis, ad loc.
6 Cf. vers. 6, 7, and ii. 4. So Weiss, in Meyer's Konitn. liber das Evaiig.
Jokann., ad loc.
158 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
brethren, " is not yet full come." It was perhaps signified to him
that he could go to Jerusalem without then precipitating the crisis.
He had felt that to accompany the festal caravan would be to make
prematurely a public demonstration adapted to rouse and combine
his adversaries. In fact, he did not show himself at Jerusalem
until the first part of the feast was over. It is not unlikely that
he travelled over Samaria.
One of the Evangelists relates that, on a certain occasion, when
he was indirectly prompted by his mother to work a miracle, he
said, "Woman, what have I to do with thee?1 Mine hour is not
yet come." It was only a prompting from above, no suggestion
from a human source, which he could heed in a matter of this
kind. In the same spirit the Disciples were told that there was a
bond of loyalty more sacred than regard for the nearest and dear
est relatives.2 As to the designation, " Woman," it implies not
the least coldness of feeling. The same Evangelist tells us that
so Jesus addressed his mother from the cross when he committed
her to the tender care of his Follower.3 So, also, he designated
Mary Magdalene when she was weeping at the tomb.4
Complaints have been made of the severity of his denunciation
of the Pharisees. It is just these passages, however, and such as
these, which free Christianity from the stigma cast upon it by the
patronizing critics who style it "a sweet Galilean vision," and find
in it nothing but a solace " for tender and weary souls." 5 It is no
fault in the teaching of Jesus that in it righteousness speaks out in
trumpet-tones. There is no unseemly passion, but there is no sen-
timentalism. Hypocrisy and cruelty are painted in their proper
colors. That retribution is in store for the iniquity which steels
itself against the incentives to reform is a part of the Gospel which
no right-minded man would wish to blot out. It is a truth too
clearly manifest in the constitution of things, too deeply graven
on the consciences of men. The spotless excellence of Jesus
needs no vindication against criticism of this nature.
Were it possible to believe, that, apart from the blinding, mis
leading influence of a perverse character, so monstrous an idea
respecting himself — supposing it to be false — gained a lodge
ment in the mind of Jesus, the effect must have been a steady,
rapid moral deterioration. False pretensions, the exaggeration of
1 John ii. 4. 2 Luke xiv. 26 ; Matt. xix. 29. 3 John xix. 26.
xx. 15. 5 See Renan, English Conferences, &s\& passim.
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION 159
personal claims, even when there is no deliberate insincerity in the
assertion of them, distort the perceptions. They engender pride
and other unhealthy passions. The career of Mohammed from
the time when he set up to be a prophet illustrates the downward
course of one whose soul is possessed by a false persuasion of this
sort. When the bounds that limit the rank and rights of an indi
vidual in relation to his fellow-men are broken through, degeneracy
of character follows. His head is turned. He seeks to hold a
sceptre that is unlawfully grasped, to exercise a prerogative to
which his powers are not equal. Simplicity of feeling, self-re
straint, respect for the equal rights of others, genuine fear of God,
gradually die out.
If it be supposed that Jesus, as the result of morbid enthusiasm,
imagined himself the representative of God and the Lord and
Redeemer of mankind, experience would have dispelled so vain
a dream. It might, perhaps, have been kept alive in the first flush
of apparent, transient success. But defeat, failure, desertion by
supporters, will often awaken distrust, even in a cause which is
true and just. How would it have been with the professed Mes
siah when the leaders in Church and State poured derision on his
claims? How would it have been when his own neighbors, among
whom he had grown up, chased him from the town? how when the
people who had flocked after him for a while, turned away in dis
belief, when his own disciples betrayed or denied him, when ruin
and disgrace were heaped upon his cause, when he was brought
face to face with death ? How would he have felt when the crown
of thorns was placed on his head ? when, in mockery, a gorgeous
robe was put on him ? What an ordeal to pass through was that !
Would the dream of enthusiasm have survived all this? Would
not this high-wrought self-confidence have collapsed ? Savonarola,
when he stood in the pulpit of St. Mark's, with the eager multitude
before him, and was excited by his own eloquence, seemed to him
self to foresee, and ventured to foretell, specific events. But in
the coolness and calm of his cell he had doubts about the reality
of his own power of prediction. Hence, when tortured on the
rack, he could not conscientiously affirm that his prophetic utter
ances were inspired of God. He might think so at certain mo
ments ; but there came the ordeal of sober reflection, there came
the ordeal of suffering ; and under this trial his own faith in him
self was to this extent dissipated.
160 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
The depth and sincerity of the conviction which Jesus enter
tained respecting himself endured a test even more severe than
that of an ignominious failure, and the pains of the cross. He
saw clearly that he was putting others in mortal jeopardy.1 The
same ostracism, scorn, and malice awaited those who had attached
themselves to his person, and were prominently identified with his
cause. Their families would cast them off; the rulers of Church
and State would harass them without pity ; to kill them would be
counted a service rendered to God. A man must be in his heart
of hearts persuaded of the justice of a cause before he can make
up his mind to die for it ; but, if he have a spark of right feeling
in him, he must be convinced in his inmost soul before he con
sents to involve the innocent and trustful follower in the destruc
tion which he sees to be coming on himself. It must not be
forgotten, that, from the beginning of the public life of Jesus to
his last breath, the question of the reality of his pretensions was
definitely before him. He could not escape from it for a moment.
It was thrust upon him at every turn. The question was, should
men believe in him. The strength of his belief in himself was
continually tested. It was a subject of debate with disbelievers.
On one occasion — the historical reality of the occurrence no one
doubts — he called together his disciples, and inquired of them
what idea was entertained respecting him by the people.2 He
heard their answer. Then he questioned them concerning their
own conviction on this subject. One feels that his mood could
not be more calm, more deliberate. The declaration of faith by
Peter he pronounces to be a rock. It is an immovable founda
tion, on which he will erect an indestructible community. If
Jesus persevered in the assertion of a groundless pretension, it was
not for the reason that it was unchallenged. It was not cher
ished because nobody was anxious to disprove it or few inclined
to dispute it. He was not led to maintain it from want of re
flection.
The foregoing considerations, it is believed, are sufficient to
show that the abiding conviction in the mind of Jesus respecting
his own mission and authority is inexplicable, except on the sup
position of its truth. There was no moral evil to cloud his self-
discernment. The bias of no selfish impulse warped his estimate
1 Matt. x. 17, 1 8, 36; Mark x. 39; John xvi. 2.
2 Matt. xvi. 13-21.
JESUS CONSCIOUS OF HIS DIVINE MISSION l6l
of himself. His conviction respecting his calling and office re
mained unshaken under the severest trials.
II. The sinlessness of Jesus in its probative force is equivalent to
a miracle ; it establishes his supernatural mission ; it proves his
exceptional relation to God.
We are now to contemplate the perfect holiness of Jesus from
another point of view, as a proof on a level with miraculous events,
and as thus directly attesting his claims, or the validity of his con
sciousness of a unique, immediate connection with God.
Sin is the disharmony of the will with the law of universal love.
This law is one in its essence, but branches out in two directions,
— as love supreme to God, and equal or impartial love to men.
We have no call in this place to investigate the origin of sin. It
is the universality of sin in the world of mankind which is the
postulate of the argument. Sin varies indefinitely in kind and
degree. But sinfulness in its generic character is an attribute of
the human family. A human being old enough to be conscious
of the distinction of right and wrong in whom no distinct fault of
a moral nature is plainly discernible is rarely to be found. There
may be here and there a person whose days have been spent in
the seclusion of domestic life, under Christian influences, without
any such explicit manifestation of evil as arrests attention and calls
for censure. Occasionally there is a man in whom, even though
he mingles in the active work of life, his associates find nothing to
blame. But, in these extremely infrequent instances of lives with
out any apparent blemish, the individuals themselves who are thus
remarkable are the last to consent to the favorable verdict. That
sensitiveness of conscience which accompanies pure character rec
ognizes and deplores the presence of sin. If there are not positive
offences, there are defects ; things are left undone which ought to
be done. If there are no definite habits of feeling to be con
demned, there is a conscious lack of a due energy of holy prin
ciple. In those who are deemed, and justly deemed, the most
virtuous, and in whom there is no tendency to morbid self-depre
ciation, there are deep feelings of penitence. " If we say that we
have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us."1
This is quoted here, not as being an authoritative testimony, but
as the utterance of one whose standard of character was obviously
1 i John i. 8.
1 62 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the highest. With such an ideal of human perfection, the very
thought that any man should consider himself sinless excites indig
nation. One who pronounces himself blameless before God proves
that falsehood, and not truth, governs his judgment.
What shall be said, then, if there be One of whom it can truly
be affirmed, that every motive of his heart, not less than every
overt action, was fully conformed to the loftiest ideal of excel
lence, — One in whom there was never the faintest self-condemna
tion, or the least ground for such an emotion ? There is a miracle ;
not, indeed, on the same plane as miracles which interrupt the
customary sequences of natural law. It is an event in another
order of things than the material sphere. But it is equally an
exception to human experience. It is equally to all who discern
the fact a proclamation of the immediate presence of God. It is
equally an attestation that he who is thus marked out in distinc
tion from all other members of the race bears a divine commission.
There is an exception to the uniform course of things. Such a
phenomenon occasions no less wonder than the instantaneous
cure, by a word, of a man born blind.
On this eminence he stands who called himself the Son of man.
It is not claimed that this peculiarity of perfect holiness proves of
itself the divinity of Jesus. This would be a larger conclusion than
the premises justify. But the inference is unavoidable, first, that
his relation to God is altogether peculiar, and secondly, that his
testimony respecting himself has an attestation akin to that of a
miracle. That testimony must be on all hands allowed to have
included the claim to be the authoritative Guide and the Saviour
of mankind ; to be the Son of God in such a sense as to include
the truth, and not this truth alone, that "none but the Father
knoweth the Son ; neither doth any know the Father, save the
Son, and he to whomsoever the Son willeth to reveal him."1
1 Matt. xi. 27.
CHAPTER VIII
MIRACLES I THEIR NATURE, CREDIBILITY, AND PLACE IN CHRISTIAN
EVIDENCES
CHRISTIANITY from the first has been declared to have a supernat
ural origin and sanction.1 It is certain that the apostles denied
that the religion which they were promulgating was the work of
man, or that its distinctive worth was owing to created causes or
agents. That Jesus preceded them in this declaration is equally
certain. At the same time, the prior revelation of God in Nature
and Providence was not ignored or lightly esteemed. Its compar
ative failure to produce its legitimate effect was attributed to the
power of evil to dull the sense of the supernatural. Yet the dis
content, self-accusation, and vague yearning for a lost birthright,
which move men to hearken to the Christian revelation, are attrib
uted to the influence of the earlier revelation in the material crea
tion and in conscience.
Nor is there any inconsistency between the two revelations.
Christianity is in part a republication of truth respecting God and
human duties — truth which the light of Nature, were reason not
clouded, would of itself disclose. Virtues of character which
have shed lustre on individuals or communities that have had no
knowledge of Christianity, correspond in no small degree to the
precepts of Christianity. The difference, as already pointed out,
is that in Christian teaching such duties are ingrafted on new
motives, are connected with more potent incentives, and come
home to the heart and conscience with a force of appeal not felt
1 The term " supernatural " is used here, and occasionally elsewhere on
these pages, as a matter of convenience, despite the fact that erroneous ideas
are liable to be associated with it. The term serves to distinguish what it is
used to denote from the customary sequences of physical and mental phenom
ena collectively considered, but not as implying that these are not equally in
their origin, supernatural, i.e. produced by the will and power of God. Strictly
speaking, the " natural " is " supernatural," and vice versa.
163
1 64 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
before. But the chief end of Christianity lies beyond that which
it has in common with natural religion. The purpose is to bring
men into a state of reconciliation and filial connection with God, and
to plant on the earth a kingdom of righteousness and peace. For
such an achievement more is needed than communications of
abstract truth. The events which form the groundwork of Chris
tianity are such as to awaken a living perception of the character
of God and to impress the soul with a sense of his personal pres
ence and agency. The doctrinal part of the Scriptures of both
the Old and New Testament is a growth upon an underlying foun
dation of facts. Doctrine illuminates that history wherein, from
age to age, the just and merciful God had manifested himself to
men.
When this view is taken of the Gospel, it no longer wears the
appearance of being an afterthought of the Creator. Revelation
is inwoven with phenomena which form an integral part of the his
tory of mankind. That history is a connected whole. As such,
Christianity is the realization of an eternal purpose. In this light
it is regarded by the writers of the New Testament. To be sure,
inasmuch as sin is no part of the creation, but is the perverse act of
the creature, and since the consequences of sin in the natural order
are thus brought in, it may be said with truth that redemption is
the remedy of a disorder. It may be truly affirmed that Revela
tion, in the forms which it actually assumed, is made possible and
necessary by the infraction of an ideal order. Only in this sense
can it be called a provision for an emergency. It was, however,
none the less preordained. It entered into the original plan of
human history, conditioned, as features of that plan were, on the
foreseen fact of sin. The Christian believer finds in the purpose
of redemption through Jesus Christ the key to the understanding of
history in its entire compass.
The historical account of the facts at the basis of the Christian
Revelation contains in it records of miracles. In the last century
the design of the miracles of the Gospel was commonly considered
to be to furnish Christ and the apostles with "credentials" in
proof of a divine commission to teach. This purpose of the mira
cles is not destitute of a sanction in the New Testament Scrip
tures.1 But it is not at all a full description of their function.
1 " If I had not clone among them the works which none other did, they
had not had sin." John xv. 24. The "works" included the miracles.
MIRACLES: THEIR PLACE IN CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 165
Generally speaking, they are not to be considered appendages,
but rather constituent elements of Revelation. The miracles of
healing, especially, which were wrought by Christ, were prompted
by his desire to relieve suffering. The immediate motive was pity
for human distress. But these were not wrought upon people in a
mass, but on individuals, not sought out for the purpose of curing
their physical disorders. To confer this blessing was not the
chief end in view. It was subsidiary to the chief purpose, which
was to impart a spiritual healing. Hence they were done in a
way to indicate that they were but an element in the self-mani
festation of Christ.
They were to rekindle a dormant faith. They were adapted to
reenforce a faith that was weak. They were tokens of the super
natural. They were, moreover, symbols of the spiritual energy to
go forth from the Saviour's person and work for the redemption
of the world. The sign-seeking temper, the unspiritual appetite
for marvels for their own sake, the disposition to see nowhere,
except in displays of power, evidence of God's presence and of
his own mission from God, the demand for an astounding sign
from heaven, Jesus rebuked. But this is all. " The Jesus Christ
presented to us in the New Testament would become a very dif
ferent person if the miracles were removed."1 "The character of
Jesus," to quote the words of Horace Bushnell, "is ever shining
with and through them, in clear self-evidence, leaving them never
to stand as raw wonders only of might, but covering them with
glory, as tokens of a heavenly love, and acts that only suit the
proportions of his personal greatness and majesty." J
Before considering the subject of the credibility of the miracles
recorded in the New Testament, something should be said on the
question whether or not miracles are possible. Denial or doubt
on this last point results from an untheistic conception of Nature,
and the relation of Nature to God. Or, if the personality of God
is recognized, he is conceived of as exterior to the world, either a
passive spectator or acting upon it from without. The notion of
Nature is that of a machine, having its springs of motion within
itself — a closed aggregate of forces which operates in a mechanical
way. It is inferred that a miracle, were it to occur, would be an
irruption into this complex mechanism. Such has been the idea
1 Dr. Temple (Archbishop of Canterbury), The Relations between Religion
and Science, p. 209. 2 Bushnell, Nature and the Supernatural, p. 364.
166 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
of Deism, and something like it has too often been implied in the
language of Christian theologians. When it is understood that
God, transcendent and personal though he be, is likewise imma
nent in Nature, and that Nature and the interaction of its parts
are dependent on his unceasing energy, the difficulty vanishes.
Science, no more than religion, warrants us in assuming the exist
ence of "forces" in Nature, which form an independent totality.
In fact, the drift of science is toward the unification of " forces."
"The whole course of Nature," says Lotze, "becomes intelligible
only by supposing the coworking (Mitwirkung) of God, who alone
carries forward (vermittelf) the reciprocal action of the different
parts of the world. But that view which admits a life of God that
is not benumbed in an unchangeable sameness, will be able to
understand his eternal coworking as a variable quantity, the trans
forming influence of which comes forth (heroortritf) at particular
moments and attests that the course of Nature is not shut up
within itself. And this being the case, the complete conditioning
causes of the miracle will be found in God and Nature together,
and in that eternal action and reaction between them, which
although perhaps not ordered simply according to general laws, is
not void of regulative principles. This vital, as opposed to a
mechanical, constitution of Nature, together with the conception
of Nature as not complete in itself — as if it were dissevered
from the divine energy — shows how a miracle may take place
without any disturbance elsewhere of the constancy of Nature,
all whose forces are affected sympathetically, with the conse
quence that its orderly movement goes on unhindered."1
Much that has been written, in recent decades, under the name
of natural "science" contains in it an admixture of metaphysics
which belongs, if it could claim a foothold anywhere, to philosophy
and not to natural or physical science as such. Hence it cannot
plead the authority conceded to those who teach science properly
so called. What is meant by "Nature"? what is matter? what
is "force"? what does the term "law," and the phrase "laws of
Nature," signify? We enter here into no prolonged investigation
1 Lotze, Mikrokosmos, 4th ed., vol. iii. p. 364. The principle of the con
servation of energy has nothing to say of the sum of energy in the universe,
or whether there be an unalterable sum. It is, in its proper limits, an
hypothesis, or best working postulate at present. See Ward, Naturalism and
Agnosticism, ii. lecture vi.
MIRACLES: THEIR PLACE IN CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES l6/
of these topics, but it is necessary to remind the reader of the
trend of the psychical sciences at present, which is due largely to
the impulse first given by Berkeley, and to the influence of Kant
and Hegel. Not that the conception of matter which is coming
into vogue is that of a purely subjective idealism^ under which the
percepts of sense have no existence save in the human mind, but
it is rather that of an objective idealism. The " things of sense "
are to human apprehension real as phenomena, and — whether finite
minds existed or not — are real as the expression of the ideas and
the will of God. If it be settled, or if it ever should be, that matter
is just what the atomic theory describes, then it is the atomic
world that constitutes the phenomena which are the objects of
sense-perception. Space, as well as spatial phenomena, is itself
phenomenal. There is no ground for saying that an inherent
bond of necessity determines the action of the atoms. This, how
ever, is not to make Nature naught but " an aggregate of Divine
volitions." l
" The natural history of the material world is truly a history of nat
ural antecedents which are metaphorically called agents. They are
to us only signs of their so-called effects. . . . Sensible signs, not
operative causes, make up the visible world. Nature is a divine sense-
symbolism adapted to the use of man. Without natural causes there
could be no humanly calculable, and more or less controllable, course
of events. But if really to explain an event be to assign its origin and
final cause, natural science never explains anything ; its province is only
to discover the divinely established custom followed in the natural suc
cession." '•'•After God has been found in the moral experience of man,
which points irresistibly to intending Will, as the only known Cause
which is unconditional or originating, the discovery that this is the
natural or provisional cause of that is recognized as the discovery that
this is the divinely constituted sign, or constant antecedent of that.
The whole natural succession is then recognized as a manifestation of
Personal agency." 2
These views render it easy to point out the relation of miracles
to the observed constancy of Nature. Were the vision not clouded,
the ordinary sequences of Nature, its wise and beneficent order,
would manifest its Author, and call out faith and adoration. The
unexpected departure of Nature from its beaten path serves to
impress on the minds of men the half-forgotten fact that insepa-
1 See Appendix, Note 10.
2 Fraser, Philosophy of Theism, 2d ed., pp. 131, 193.
1 68 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
rable from the " forces " of Nature, even in its ordinary movement,
is the will of God. What are " natural laws"? They are not
causes. They exert no power. They are not a code super
imposed upon natural objects. They are simply a generalized
statement of the way in which the objects of Nature are observed
to act and interact. Thus the miracle does not clash with natural
laws. It is a modification in the effect due to unusual exertion of
the voluntary agency which is its cause. If there is a new phenome
non, it is the natural consequence of this variation. There is no
violation of the law of gravitation when a stone is thrown into the air.
Nature is, within limits, subject to the human will. The intervention
of man's will gives being to phenomena which no qualities of mat
ter, independently of the human agent, would ever produce. Yet
such effects following upon volition are not said to be violations of
law. Law describes the action of things in nature when that action
is not modified and controlled by the voluntary agency back of it.
If the efficiency of the divine will infinitely outstrips that of the will
of man, still miracles are as really consistent with natural laws as
the lifting of a man's hand under the impulse of a volition. This
obvious fact, it may be added, disproves the statement sometimes
heard, that a miracle in any one place would destroy the order of
Nature everywhere.
If the possibility of miracles is discerned, the next point to
be settled is that of their credibility. The question whether the
miracles described in the New Testament, by which it is alleged
that Christianity was ushered into the world, actually occurred, is
to be settled by an examination of the evidence. It is an histori
cal question, and is to be determined by an application of the
canons applicable to historical inquiry. The great sceptical phi
losopher of the last century displayed his ingenuity in an attempt
to show that a miracle is from its very nature, and therefore under
all circumstances, incapable of proof. Hume founds our belief in
testimony solely on experience. " The reason," he says, " why we
place any credit in witnesses and historians is not derived from
any connection which we perceive a priori between testimony and
reality, but because we are accustomed to find a conformity be
tween them." This is far from being a full account of the origin
of our belief in testimony. Custom is not the primary source of
credence. The truth is, that we instinctively give credit to what
is told us ; that is, we assume that the facts accord with testimony.
MIRACLES: THEIR PLACE IN CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 169
Experience, to be sure, serves to modify this natural expectation,
and we learn to give or withhold credence according to circum
stances. The circumstance which determines us to believe or
disbelieve is our conviction respecting the capacity of the witness
for ascertaining the truth on the subject of his narration and
respecting his honesty. If we are convinced that he could not
have been deceived, and that he is truthful, we believe his story.
No doubt one thing which helps to determine his title to credit is
the probability or improbability of the occurrences related. The
circumstance that such occurrences have never taken place before,
or are " contrary to experience " in Hume's sense of the phrase,
does not of necessity destroy the credibility of testimony to them.
An event is not rendered incapable of proof because it occurs, if
it occurs at all, for the first time. Unless it can be shown to be
impossible, or incredible on some other account than because it is
an unexampled event, it may be capable of being proved by wit
nesses. Hume is not justified in assuming that miracles are " con
trary to experience," as he defines this term. This is the very
question in dispute. The evidence for the affirmative, as J. S. Mill
has correctly stated, is diminished in force by whatever weight
belongs to the evidence that certain miracles have taken place.
The gist of Hume's argumentation is contained in this remark,
" Let us suppose that the fact which they [the witnesses] affirm,
instead of being only marvellous, is really miraculous ; and sup
pose, also, that the testimony, considered apart and in itself,
amounts to an entire proof: in that case, there is proof against
proof, of which the strongest must prevail," etc. At the best,
according to Hume, in every instance where a miracle is alleged,
proof balances proof. One flaw in this argument has just been
pointed out. The fundamental fallacy of this reasoning is in the
premises, which base belief on naked " experience " divorced from
all rational expectations drawn from any other source. The argu
ment proceeds on the assumption that a miracle is just as likely
to occur in one place as in another ; that a miracle whereby the
marks of truthfulness are transformed into a mask of error and
falsehood is as likely to occur as (for example) the healing of a
blind man by a touch of the hand. This might be so if the
Power that governs the world were destitute of moral attributes.
" The question is whether the presumption against miracles as mere
physical phenomena is rebutted by the presumption in favor of
I/O THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
miracles as works of infinite benevolence." Hume's argument is
valid only on the theory of Atheism.
Huxley objects to Hume's definition of a miracle as a violation
of the order of Nature, " because all we know of the order of
Nature is derived from our observation of the course of events of
which the so-called miracle is a part." l The laws of Nature, he
adds, " are necessarily based on incomplete knowledge, and are to
be held only as grounds of a more or less justifiable expectation."
He reduces Hume's doctrine, so far as it is tenable, to the canon,
— " the more a statement of fact conflicts with previous experience,
the more complete must be the evidence which is to justify us
in believing it." By " more complete " evidence he apparently
means evidence greater in amount, and tested by a more searching
scrutiny. One of the examples which is given is the alleged exist
ence of a centaur. The possibility of a centaur, Huxley is far
from denying, contrary as the existence of such an animal would
be to those " generalizations of our present experience which we
are pleased to call the laws of Nature." Huxley does not deny
that such events as the conversion of water into wine, and the
raising of a dead man to life, are within the limits of possibility.
Being, for aught we can say, possible, we can conceive evidence
to exist of such an amount and character as to place them beyond
reasonable doubt. Wherein is Huxley's position on this question
faulty ? He is right in requiring that no link shall be wanting in
the chain of proof. He is right in demanding that a mere " coin
cidence " shall not be taken for an efficacious exertion of power.
It is certainly possible that a man apparently dead should awake
simultaneously with a command to arise. If the person who
uttered the command knew that the death was only apparent, the
awakening would be easily explained. If he did not know it, and
if the sleep were a swoon where the sense of hearing is suspended,
it is still possible that the recovery of consciousness might occur at
the moment when the injunction to arise was spoken. To be sure,
it would be a startling coincidence ; yet it might be nothing more.
But, if there were sufficient reason to conclude that the man had
passed the limit of possible resuscitation by unaided human
power, then his awakening at the command of another does not
admit of being explained by natural causes. The conjunction of
the return of life and the direction to awake cannot be considered
1 Huxley's Hume, p. 131.
MIRACLES: THEIR PLACE IN CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES I /I
a mere coincidence. If other events of the same character take
place, where the moral honesty of all the persons concerned, and
other circumstances, exclude mistake as to the facts, the proof of
miracles is complete and overwhelming. Canon Mozley says : —
" The evidential function of a miracle is based upon the common
argument of design as proved by coincidence. The greatest marvel or
interruption of the order of nature occurring by itself, as the very con
sequence of being connected with nothing, proves nothing. But, if it
takes place in connection with the word or act of a person, that coin
cidence proves design in the marvel, and makes it a miracle ; and,
if that person professes to report a message or revelation from Heaven,
the coincidence again of the miracle with the professed message of God
proves design on the part of God to warrant and authorize the
message."1
There is another particular in which Huxley is in error. It is
plain that if events of the kind referred to, which cannot be due
to mere coincidence, occur, they call for no revisal of our concep
tion of " the order of Nature," if by this is meant the operation of
so-called " forces," which are ordinarily in exercise within it. Such
phenomena, it is obvious, might occur as would render the mate
rialistic explanation quite irrational. The work done might so far
surpass the power of its physical antecedents that the ascription
of it to a purely material agency would be absurd. On the sup
position that an occult material agency hitherto undiscovered
were tenable, we should be driven to the conclusion that the
person who had become aware of it, and was thus able to give the
signal for the occurrence of the phenomena, was possessed of
supernatural knowledge ; and then we should have, if not a mira
cle of power, a miracle of knowledge. The answer to Huxley,
then, is, that the circumstances of an alleged miracle may be such
as to exclude the supposition either that there is a remarkable
coincidence merely, or that the order of Nature — the natural sys
tem — is in itself different from what has been previously ob
served. The circumstances may be such that the only reasonable
conclusion is the hypothesis of an unusual exertion of divine
energy, constantly immanent.
Huxley, like Hume, treats the miracle as an isolated event. He looks
at it exclusively from the point of view of a naturalist, as if material
nature were dissevered from God and were the sum of all being and the
1 Bampton Lectures, pp. 5, 6.
1/2 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
repository of all force. He shuts his eyes to all evidence in its favor
which it may be possible to derive from its ostensible design and use
and from the circumstances surrounding it. He shuts his eyes to the
truth, even to the possible truth, of the being of God. Like Hume, he
contemplates the miracle as a naked marvel. He confines his atten
tion to a single quality of the event — its confessed extremely unusual
character. An analogous mode of regarding historical occurrences
would give an air of improbability to innumerable events that are well
known to have taken place. If we are told that the enlightened rulers
of a nation on a certain day deliberately set fire to their capital, and
consumed its palaces and treasures in the flames, the narrative would
excite the utmost surprise, if not incredulity. But incredulity vanishes,
were it added that the capital was Moscow, and that it was held by an
invading army which certain Russians were willing to make every sacri
fice to destroy. Extraordinary actions, whether beneficent or destruc
tive, may fail to obtain, or even to deserve, credence, until the motives
of the actors, and the occasions that led to them, are brought to light.
The fact of the Moscow fire is not disproved by showing that it could
not have kindled itself. The method of spontaneous combustion is not
the only possible method of accounting for such an event. Yet this
assumption fairly describes Huxley's philosophy on the subject before us.
Ignoring supernatural agency altogether, Huxley is obliged to ascribe
miracles, on the supposition that they occur, exclusively, to things in
Nature, and thus to make them at variance with the order of Na
ture as at present understood. They are events parallel to the discov
ery of a monstrosity like a centaur. This is an entirely gratuitous
supposition. A miracle does not disturb our conception of the system
of Nature. On the contrary, if there were not an ordinary sequence of
natural phenomena, there could not be a miracle, or, rather, all phenom
ena would be alike miraculous. And the pliability of Nature is involved
in its relation to God.1
The "order of Nature " is an ambiguous phrase. It may mean
that arrangement, or mutual interaction of parts, which constitutes
the harmony of Nature. The " order of Nature," in the sense of
" harmony," as Mozley observes, " is not disturbed by a miracle." 2
The interruption of a train of relations, in one instance, leaves
them standing in every other ; i.e. leaves the system, as such,
untouched." s To this it may be added that a miracle is not in
harmonious with the comprehensive system which is established
and maintained by the Author of Nature, and in which " Nature "
is but a single department.
1 On Huxley's philosophy, see Appendix, Note n.
2 Bampton Lectures, p. 43. See Lotze's remarks above, p. 1 66.
8 See above, p. 168.
MIRACLES: THEIR PLACE IN CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 173
By the "order of Nature" —let it be repeated — is signified
the stated manner of the recurrence of physical phenomena. On
this order rests the expectation that things will be in the future as
they have been in the past, and the belief that they have been as
they now are. This belief and expectation do not partake in. the
least of the character of necessary truth. The habitual expecta
tion that the " order of Nature," embracing the sequences of phe
nomena which usually pass under our observation, will be subject
to no interruption in the future, is capable of being reversed
whenever proof is furnished to the contrary. The same is true as
to the course of things in the past. The principles of Theism
acquaint us with the Cause which is adequate to produce such an
interruption. The moral condition and exigencies of mankind
may furnish a sufficient motive for the exertion of this power by
the merciful Being to whom it belongs. The characteristics of
Christianity, considered apart from the alleged miracles connected
with it, predispose the mind to give credit to the testimony on
which these miracles rest.
We can hardly expect to understand fully the nature of the miracle-
working power of Christ, the exercise of such a power being foreign to
our own experience. It may be that in some cases the apparent dis
turbance of the ordinary course of Nature was due to a higher physical
law. The miracle would then consist in the knowledge of this law on
the part of Christ, and in the coincidence of time with the purpose it
served in connection with him.1 In certain instances effects were wrought
by Jesus by the force of his personality, a force not without analogies with
in our own observation, which, however, fall too far short of the capacity
evinced by Jesus, in reference to nervous maladies, to be identified with
it. In one instance he is said to have been conscious that "virtue" had
gone out of him. Generally speaking, faith is at least a moral prerequi
site in the reception of the miraculous benefit. It is well to remember
that in regard to all the circumstances of miracles, the impressions and
comments of bystanders are not to be considered infallible and taken
literally. For example, it need not be supposed that dissolution of body
and spirit had gone so far in Lazarus that the soul had entered on
a separate, conscious life. Some there are who give full credence to
miracles wrought upon men, and this in respect to the healing of mala
dies otherwise incurable, but hesitate to accept as literal history the
1 This suggestion, with a wide application of it to the Gospel narratives, is
made by Dr. Temple, now Archbishop of Canterbury, in The Relations of
Religion and Science, pp. 194 seq.
THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
accounts of such miracles in Nature as the multiplying of the loaves.1
One theory is that the occurrences at the basis of these narrations were
signal acts of Providence (not supernatural), as to which Jesus at the
moment was inspired with the conviction that they would occur — a feeling
which, so to speak, he ventured upon. To those about him it seemed
in the retrospect that they were external miracles. Opposed to this
theory is the fact that the multiplying of the loaves stands recorded in all
the Gospels. So in all of them are narrated instances of each of the
species of miracles wrought upon Nature. The supposition that a few
of the miracles are symbolical — like parables, a quasi-pictorial repre
sentation of spiritual truths — cannot appeal for support to the example
of the record of the temptation of Jesus. In this last case, the essen
tial fact depicted in the record is one of which the apostles could have
no personal cognizance.
The relation of miracles to the external proof of divine revela
tion merits more particular attention. It has been already re
marked that in the last century it was the evidence from miracles
which the defenders of Christianity principally relied on. The
work of Paley is constructed on this basis. The argument for
miracles is placed by him in the foreground ; the testimony in be
half of them is set forth with admirable clearness and vigor, and
objections are parried with much skill. To the internal evidence
is assigned a subordinate place. This whole method of presenting
the case has excited in later times misgivings and open dissent.
Coleridge may be mentioned as one of its earliest censors. The
contents of Christianity as a system of truth, and the transcendent
excellence of Christ, have been considered the main evidence of
the supernatural origin of the Gospel.2 The old method has not
been without conspicuous representatives, of whom the late Canon
Mozley is one of the most notable. But, on the whole, it is upon
the internal argument, in its various branches, that the principal
stress has been laid, in recent days, in the conflict with doubt and
disbelief. In Germany, Schleiermacher, whose profound apprecia
tion of the character of Jesus is the keynote in his system, held
that a belief in miracles is not directly involved in the faith of a
Christian, although the denial of miracles is evidently destructive,
1 Among the writers of this class are Beyschlag, Das Leben Jesu, i. 303 seq. ;
Weiss, Leben Jesu ; Bleek, Synoptische Erklarung d. drei ersten Evangelien.
2 In the O. T. (Deut. xiii. 1-6) is a command not to accept a prophet's
teaching, if it be impious, even if it be sanctioned by signs and wonders, but
to put him to death.
MIRACLES: THEIR PLACE IN CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 175
as implying such a distrust of the capacity or integrity of the
apostles as would invalidate all their testimony respecting Christ,
and thus prevent us from gaining an authentic impression of his
person and character.1 Rothe, who was a firm believer in the mira
cles, as actual historical occurrences, nevertheless maintains that
the acceptance of them is not indispensable to the attainment of
the benefits of the Gospel. They were, in point of fact, he tells
us, essential to the introduction of Christianity into the world :
the rejection of them is unphilosophical, and contrary to the con
clusion warranted by historical evidence. But now that Christ is
known, and Christianity is introduced as a working power into
history, it is possible for those who doubt about the miracles to
receive him in faith, and through him to enter into communion
with God.2
There can be no question, that, at the present day, minds which
are disquieted by doubt, or are more or less disinclined to believe
in revelation, should first give heed to the internal evidence. It is
not by witnesses to miracles, even if they stood before us, that
scepticism is overcome, where there is a lack of any living dis
cernment of the peculiarity of the Gospel and of the perfection
of its author. How can a greater effect be expected from mir
acles alleged to have taken place at a remote date, be the proofs
what they may, than these miracles produced upon those in whose
presence they were wrought ? Those who undervalue the internal
evidence, and place their reliance on the argument from miracles,
forget the declaration of Christ himself, that there are moods of
disbelief which the resurrection of a man from the dead, when
witnessed by themselves, would not dispel. They forget the pos
ture of mind of many who had the highest possible proof of an
external nature that miracles were done by him and by the apos
tles. Moreover, they fail to consider, that, for the establishment
of miracles as matters of fact, something more is required than a
scrutiny such as would suffice for the proof of ordinary occur
rences. It is manifest that all those characteristics of Christ and
of Christianity which predispose us to attribute it to a miraculous
origin are of weight as proof of the particular miracles said to
have taken place in connection with it.
At the same time, miracles, and the proof of miracles from tes
timony, cannot be spared. When the peculiarities which distin-
1 Chris f 1. Glaube^ vol. ii. p. 88. 2 Zur Dogmatik, p. in,
1/6 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
guished Christianity from all other religions have impressed the
mind, when the character of Christ in its unique and supernal
quality has risen before us in its full attractive power, and when,
from these influences, we are almost persuaded, at least not a little
inclined, to believe in the Gospel as a revelation of God, we spon
taneously crave some attestation of an objective character. We
naturally expect, that, if all this be really upon a plane above Na
ture, there will be some explicit sign and confirmation of the fact.
Such attestation being wanting, the question recurs whether there
may not be, after all, some occult power of Nature to which the
moral phenomena of Christianity might be traced. Can we be
sure that we are not still among " second causes " alone, in con
tact with a human wisdom, which, however exalted, is still human,
and not unmingled with error ? Are we certain that we have not
here merely a flower in the garden of Nature, — a flower, perhaps,
of unmatched beauty and delicious fragrance, yet a product of the
earth ? It is just at this point that the record of miracles comes
in to meet a rational expectation, to give their full effect to other
considerations where the suspicion of a subjective bias may in
trude, and to fortify a belief which needs a support of just this
nature. The agency of God in connection with the origin of
Christianity is manifested to the senses, as well as to the reason
and the heart. Not simply a wisdom that is more than human, a
virtue of which there is no parallel in human experience, a merci
ful, renovating influence not referable to any creed or philosophy
of man's device, make their appeal to the sense of the super
natural and divine. Not disconnected from these supernatural
tokens, but mingling with them, are manifestations of a power
exceeding that of Nature — a power equally characteristic of God
and identifying the Author of Nature with the Being of whom
Christ is the messenger. Strip the manifestation of this ingre
dient of power, and an element is lacking for its full effect. The
other parts of the manifestation excite a willingness to believe, a
reasonable anticipation that the one missing element is associated
with them. When this anticipation is verified by answering proof,
the argument is complete. An inchoate faith rises into an assured
confidence. It is true that, according to the Gospel histories, Jesus
deprecated an appetite for displays of miraculous power. When
the Pharisees challenged him to exhibit a peculiar, overpowering
proof of his Messiahship, " a sign from heaven," he refused the
MIRACLES: THEIR PLACE IN CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES 177
demand which they made, " tempting him," that is, asking some
thing which they knew that he would refuse. The miracles which
he had performed did not satisfy them.1 There were other than
miraculous signs of the presence of God and proofs that the Mes
siah had come, which it only needed a spiritual discernment to
perceive. Except for the sake of relieving pain and sorrow, if he
worked miracles, it was seemingly under a protest.
The importance of the evidence for miracles, then, does not
rest solely on the ground, that, if it be discredited, the value of
the apostles' testimony respecting other aspects of the life of Christ
is seriously weakened. The several proofs need the miracles as
a complement in order to give them full efficacy, and to remove
a difficulty which otherwise stands in the way of the conviction
which they tend to create. Miracles, it may also be affirmed,
are component parts of that Gospel which is the object of belief.
Not only are they parts, and not merely accessories, of the act
of revelation, they are also comprehended within the work of
deliverance through Christ — the redemption which is the object
of the Christian faith. This is evidently true of his resurrection,
in which his victory over sin was seen in its appropriate fruit, and
his victory over death was realized — realized, as well as demon
strated to man.
In fine, miracles are the complement of the internal evidence.
The two sorts of proof lend support each to the other, and they
conspire together to satisfy the candid inquirer that Christianity
is of supernatural origin.
1 Matt. xvi. I ; cf. Mark viii. 1 1 seq. See also Weiss, Leben Jesu, vol. ii.
pp. 221 seq.
CHAPTER IX
PROOF OF THE MIRACLES OF CHRIST INDEPENDENTLY OF SPECIAL
INQUIRY INTO THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE GOSPELS
THE reader will bear in mind that we propose to reason, for the
present, on the basis of views respecting the origin of the Gospels
which do not clash with those commonly accepted by critics of
the sceptical schools. Let it be assumed that the traditions which
are collected in the Gospels of the canon are of unequal value,
and that all of these books were composed later than the dates
in the established tradition. Still it is maintained that, even on
this hypothesis, the essential facts which are related by the
Evangelists, can be established. In this chapter it is proposed
to bring forward evidence to prove that miracles were wrought
by Jesus substantially as related by them.
I. The fact that the apostles themselves professed to work
miracles and to do this by a power derived from Christ, makes
it altogether probable that they believed miracles to have been
wrought by him.
The point to be shown is, that narratives of miracles performed
by Christ were embraced in the accounts which the apostles were
in the habit of giving of his life. A presumptive proof of this
proposition is drawn from the circumstance that they themselves,
in fulfilling the office to which they were appointed by him, pro
fessed to work miracles, and considered this an indispensable
criterion of their divine mission. There is no doubt of the fact
as here stated. Few scholars now hold that the Epistle to the
Hebrews was written by Paul. Some follow an ancient opinion,
which Grotius held, and to which Calvin was inclined, that
Luke wrote it. Others attribute it to Barnabas. Many are dis
posed, with Luther, to consider Apollos its author. It is a ques
tion which we have no occasion to discuss here. The date of
the Epistle is the only point that concerns us at present. It was
used by Clement of Rome in his Epistle to the Corinthians, and
178 •
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 179
therefore must have existed as early as A.D. 97. Zahn, one of
the latest and most learned scholars who has discussed the
question, places the date at about A.D. So.1 Harnack considers
the probable date to be not far from 65. 2 Weiss places it before
the year yo.3 A large number of critics, including adherents of
opposite creeds in theology, infer, from passages in the Epistle
itself, that the temple at Jerusalem was still standing when it was
written.4 Hilgenfeld, the ablest representative of the Tubingen
school, is of opinion that Apollos wrote it before A.D. 6y.5 Be
this as it may, its author was well qualified to speak of the course
pursued by the apostles in their ministry.6 Now he tells us that
their divine mission was confirmed by the miracles which they
did : " God also bearing them witness, both with signs and won
ders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy Ghost." 7
The same thing is repeatedly asserted by the Apostle Paul.
" Working miracles among you " 8 is the phrase which he uses
when speaking of what he himself had done in Galatia. If we
give to the preposition, as perhaps we should, its literal sense
" in," the meaning is, that the apostle had imparted to his con
verts the power to work miracles.9 In the Epistles to the Romans
he explicitly refers to " the mighty signs and wonders " which
Christ had wrought by him : it was by " deed," as well as by
word, that he had succeeded in convincing a multitude of brethren.10
How, indeed we might stop to ask, could such an effect have
been produced at that time in the heathen world by " word "
alone? But in the Second Epistle to the Corinthians he reminds
them that miracles — "signs and wonders and mighty deeds"
— had been wrought by him before their eyes ; and he calls them
" the signs," not of an apostle, as the Authorized Version has it,
but of " the apostle." n They are the credentials of the apostolic
office. By these an apostle is known to be what he professes
to be. In working miracles he had exhibited the characteristic
marks of an apostle. The author of the book of Acts, then,
goes no farther than Paul himself goes, when that author ascribes
1 Einl. in d. N. Test., vol. ii. s. 148. 7 Ibid., ver. 5.
2 Chronologic, vol. i. p. 718. 8 evepyuv dvi>d/j.eis ev v/j.?v, Gal. Hi. 5.
3 Einl. in d. N. Test., p. 329. 9 Cf. Lightfoot and Meyer, ad loc.
4 See Heb. vii. 9, viii. 3, ix. 4. 10 Rom. xv. 18-20.
5 Einl. in d. AT. Test., p. 388. n 2 Cor. xii. 12.
0 Heb. ii. 3.
ISO THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
to the apostles " many wonders and signs." l It is in the highest
degree probable, in the light of the passages quoted from Paul,
that, if he and Barnabas had occasion to vindicate themselves and
their work, they would declare, as the author of Acts affirms they
did, " what miracles and wonders God had wrought among the
Gentiles by them."2 Now we advance another step. In each
of the first three Gospels the direction to work miracles is a
part of the brief commission given by Christ to the apostles.3 If
the apostles could remember anything correctly, would they
forget the terms of this brief, momentous charge from the Master?
This, if anything, would be handed down in an authentic form.
In the charge when the apostles were first sent out, as it is given
in Matthew, they were to confine their labors to the Jews — to
" the lost sheep of the house of Israel." They were not even to
go at that time to the Samaritans. This injunction is a strong
confirmation of the exactness of the report in the first Evangelist.
Coupling the known fact, that the working of miracles was con
sidered by the apostles a distinguishing sign of their office, with
the united testimony of the first three Gospels, — the Gospels in
which the appointment of the Twelve is recorded, — it may be
safely concluded that Jesus did then tell them to " heal the
sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils." He
told them to preach, and to verify their authority as teachers by
this merciful exertion of powers greater than belong to man. Is it
probable that he expected them to furnish proofs of a kind which
had not been furnished himself ? Did he direct them to do what
they had never seen him do ? Did he profess to communicate
to his apostles a power which he had given them no evidence of
possessing ?
II. Injunctions of Jesus not to report his miracles, it is evi
dent, are truthfully imputed to him ; and this proves that the
events to which they relate actually took place.
It is frequently said in the Gospels, that Jesus enjoined upon
those whom he miraculously healed not to make it publicly
known.4 He was anxious that the miracle should not be noised
1 Acts ii. 43, cf. iv. 30, v. 12, xiv. 3.
2 Ibid., xv. 12, cf. ver. 4.
3 Matt. x. 1,8; Mark iii. 15; Luke ix. 2; cf. Luke x. 9.
4 Ibid., ix. 30, xii. 16, xvii. 9; Mark iii. 12, v. 43, vii. 36, viii. 26, ix. 9;
Luke v. 14, viii. 56.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES l8l
abroad. For instance, it is said in Mark, that in the neighbor
hood of Bethsaida he sent home a blind man whom he had cured,
saying, " Neither go into the town, nor tell it to any in the town." l
The motive is plainly indicated. Jesus had to guard against a
popular uprising, than which nothing was easier to provoke among
the inflammable inhabitants of Galilee. There were times, it
costs no effort to believe, when they were eager to make him a
king.2 He had to conceal himself from the multitude. He had
to withdraw into retired places. It was necessary for him to re
cast utterly the popular conception of the Messiah, and this was
a slow and well-nigh impossible task. It was a political leader
and ruler whom the people looked for. It was hard to educate
even the disciples out of the old prepossession. Hence he used
great reserve and caution in announcing himself as the Messiah.
He made himself known by degrees. When Peter uttered his
glowing confession of faith, Jesus charged him and his compan
ions " that they should tell no man of him " ; that is, they should
keep to themselves their knowledge that he was the Christ.3 The
interdict against publishing abroad his miracles is therefore quite
in keeping with a portion of the evangelic tradition that is in
dubitably authentic. On the other hand, such an interdict is a
thing which it would occur to nobody to invent. It is the last
thing which contrivers of miraculous tales (unless they had be
fore them the model of the Gospels) would be likely to imagine.
No plausible motive can be thought of for attributing falsely such
injunctions to Jesus, unless it is assumed that there was a desire
to account for the alleged miracles not being more widely known.
But this would imply intentional falsehood in the first narrators,
whoever they were. Even this supposition, in itself most un
likely, is completely excluded, because the prohibitions are gen
erally said to have proved ineffectual. It is commonly added in the
Gospels, that the individuals who were healed of their maladies
did not heed them, but blazed abroad the fact of their miraculous
cure. Since the injunctions imposing silence are authentic,
the miracles, without which they are meaningless, must have
been wrought. It is worthy of note, that, when the maniac of
Gadara was restored to health, Jesus did not lay this command
ment on him. He sent him to his home, bidding him tell his
1 Mark viii. 26. 2 John vi. 15. 3 Mark viii. 30; Luke ix. 21.
1 82 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
friends of his experience of the mercy of God.1 Connected with
the narratives of miracles, both before and just after in the same
chapter,2 we find the usual charge not to tell what had been
done. Why not in this instance of the madman of Gadara? The
reason would seem to have been, that, in that region where Jesus
had not taught, and where he did not purpose to remain, the
same danger from publicity did not exist. To be sure, the man
was not told " to publish" the miracle "in Decapolis," as he
proceeded to do ; but no pains were taken to prevent him from
doing this. He was left at liberty to act in this respect as he
pleased. The Evangelist does not call our attention in any way
to this peculiarity of the Gadara miracle. It is thus an unde
signed confirmation of the truth of the narrative, and at the same
time of the other narratives with which the injunction to observe
silence is connected.
III. Cautions, plainly authentic, against an excessive esteem of
miracles, are a proof that they were actually wrought.
No one who falsely sets up to be a miracle-worker seeks to
lower the popular esteem of miracles. Such a one never chides
the wonder-loving spirit. The same is equally true of those who
imagine or otherwise fabricate stories of miracles. The moods
of mind out of which fictions of this kind are hatched are incom
patible with anything like a disparagement of miracles. The
tendency will be to make as much of them as possible. Now,
the Gospel records represent Christ as taking the opposite course,
" Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe." 3 This
implies that there were higher grounds of faith. It is an expres
sion of blame. " Believe me that I am in the Father, and the
Father in me : or else believe me for the very works' sake." 4
That is, if you cannot take my word for it, then let the miracles
convince you. Under the designation "works," miraculous works
must have been included.5 It would almost seem, as already
remarked, that Christ performed his miracles under a protest,
save as they were called for in order to relieve or to console the
suffering. He refused to do a miracle where there was not a
germ of faith beforehand. In the first three Gospels there is the
same relative estimate of miracles as in the fourth. If men form
1 Mark v. 19. 4 Ibid., xiv. n.
2 Ibid., \\\. 12, v. 43. 5 As in Matt. xi. 21; Luke x. 13.
3 John iv. 48.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 183
an opinion about the weather by the looks of the sky, they ought
to be convinced by " the signs of the times," in which, if the
miracles are comprised, it is only as one element in the collective
manifestation of Christ.1 When the seventy disciples returned
full of joy that they had not only been able to heal the sick, but
also to deliver demoniacs from their distress,2 — which had not
been explicitly promised them when they went forth, — Jesus
sympathized with their joy. He beheld before his mind's eye the
swift downfall of the dominating spirit of evil, and he assured the
disciples that further miraculous power should be given to them.
But he added, " Notwithstanding, in this rejoice not that the
spirits are subject unto you; but rather rejoice, because your
names are written in heaven." They were not to plume them
selves on the supernatural power exercised, or to be exercised,
by them. They were not to make it a ground of self-congratula
tion. These statements of Jesus, be it observed, for the reasons
stated above, verify themselves as authentic. And they presup
pose the reality of the miracles. They show, it may be added,
that the disciples were trained by Jesus not to indulge a wonder-
loving spirit, and thus guarded against this source of self-decep
tion.
IV. Teaching of Jesus which is evidently genuine is inseparable
from certain miracles ; in other words, the miracles cannot be
dissected out of authentic teaching and incidents with which they
are connected in the narrative. A few illustrations will prove this
to be the case.
i. John the Baptist, being then in prison, sent two of his
disciples to ask Jesus if he was indeed the Messiah.3 A doubt
had sprung up in his mind. This is an incident which nobody
would have invented. In proof of this, it is enough to say that an
effort has been made, by commentators who have caught up a
suggestion of Origen, to explain away the fact. It has been con
jectured that the message was probably to satisfy some of John's
sceptical disciples. There is not a syllable in the narrative to
countenance this view. It is excluded by the message which the
disciples were to carry from Christ to John, " Blessed is he who
soever shall not be offended in me." That is, blessed is the man
1 Matt. xvi. 3.
2 Such is the force of the /ecu (in the /ecu rd 5cu/x6j/ia, etc.), Luke x. 17.
3 Matt. xi. 4 ; Luke vii. 22.
1 84 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
who is not led to disbelieve because the course that I take does
not answer to his ideal of the Messiah. There is no reason to
think that John's mind was free from those more or less sensuous
anticipations concerning Christ and his kingdom which the
apostles, even after they had long been with Jesus, had not
shaken off. He had foretold that the Messiah was to have a " fan
in his hand," was to "gather his wheat into the garner," and
to " burn up the chaff." l He was perplexed that Jesus took no
more decisive step, that no great overturning had come. Was
Jesus, after all, the Messiah himself, or was he a precursor? If,
in his prison there, the faith of John for the moment faltered, it
was nothing worse than was true of Moses and Elijah, the greatest
of the old prophets. The commendation of John which Jesus
uttered in the hearing of the bystanders, immediately after he had
sent back the disciples, was probably designed to efface any im
pression unfavorable to the Baptist which might have been left on
their minds. This eulogy is another corroboration of the truth of
the narrative. The same is true of his closing words, " Notwith
standing, he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater
than he." They suggest the limit of John's insight into the
nature of the kingdom. It is an unquestionable fact, therefore,
that the inquiry was sent by John. Nor can it be denied that
Jesus returned the following answer, " Go and show John again
those things which ye do hear and see : the blind receive their
sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf
hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel
preached to them." The messengers were to describe to John
the miracles which Jesus was doing, — Luke expressly adds that
they themselves were witnesses of them, — and to assure him, that
in addition to these signs of the Messianic era which Isaiah had pre
dicted,2 to the poor the good news of the speedy advent of the king
dom were proclaimed. The message of Jesus had no ambiguity.
It meant what the Evangelists understood it to mean. The idea that
he was merely using symbols to denote the spiritual effect of his
preaching is a mere subterfuge of interpreters who cannot otherwise
avoid the necessity of admitting the fact of miracles. What sort of
satisfaction would it have given John, in the state of mind in which
he then was, to be assured simply that the teaching of Jesus was
causing great pleasure, and doing a great deal of good? The
1 Matt. iii. 12. 2 Isa. xxxv. 5, 6.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 185
same, or almost as much, he knew to be true of his own preach
ing. What he needed to learn, and what he did learn from his
messengers, was, that the miracles of which he had heard were
really done, and to be reminded of their significance.
2. The Gospels record several controversies of Jesus with
over-rigid observers of the sabbath. They found fault with him
for laxness in this particular. On one occasion he is said to have
met a reproach of this kind with the retort, " Which of you shall
have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and will not straightway
pull him out on the sabbath day ? " l It has been said of the
books written by the companions of Napoleon at St. Helena, that
it is not difficult to mark off what he really said, his sayings hav
ing a recognizable style of their own. They who maintain that a
like distinction is to be drawn in the Gospels among the reported
sayings of Christ have to concede that he uttered the words above
quoted. They are characteristic words. Even Strauss holds that
they were spoken by him. If so, on what occasion? Luke says
that it was on the occasion of Christ's healing a man who had the
dropsy. There must have been a rescue from some evil. The
evil must have been a very serious one : otherwise the parable of
the ox or the ass falling into a pit would be out of place. What
more proof is wanted of the correctness of the evangelic tradition,
and thus of the miracle ? On another sabbath he is said to have
cured a woman, who, from a muscular disorder, had been bowed
down for eighteen years. His reply to his censors is equally
characteristic.2 If the reply was made, the miracle that occasioned
it was done. On still another occasion of the same kind he added
to the illustration of a sheep falling into a pit the significant ques
tion, " How much, then, is a man better than a sheep? " 3 If he
uttered these words, then he healed a man with a withered hand.
Unless he had just saved a man from some grievous peril, the ques
tion is meaningless.
3. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke it is related that Jesus was
charged by the Pharisees with casting out demons through the
help of Beelzebub their prince.4 The conversation that ensued
upon this accusation is given. Jesus exposed the absurdity of the
charge. It implied that Satan was working against himself, and
for the subversion of his own kingdom, " If a house be divided
1 Luke xiv. 5. 2 Ibid., xiii. 15. 3 Matt< xjjt I2§
4 Ibid., xii. 22-31; Mark iii. 22-31; Luke xi. 14-23.
1 86 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
against itself, that house cannot stand."1 The conversation is
stamped with internal marks of authenticity. The fact of this
charge having been made against Christ was inwrought into the
evangelic tradition. Now, the occasion of the debate was the
cure of a man who was blind and dumb. The reader may con
sider demoniacal possession to be a literal fact, or nothing more
than a popular idea or theory : in either case the phenomena —
epilepsy, lunacy, etc. — were what presented themselves to obser
vation. It may be said that the Jews had exorcists. Jesus implies
this when he asks, " By whom do your children " — that is, your
disciples — "cast them out?" Exorcism as practised even early
by the Jews is referred to by Josephus.2 Manipulations and dif
ferent sorts of jugglery mingled in it. That cases should occur
in which actual effects should be produced upon credulous per
sons is not strange. Yet the cures of this sort which were ef
fected by Christ must have included aggravated cases of mental
and physical disorder, or they must have been wrought with a
uniformity which distinguished them from similar relief adminis
tered by others, sometimes through the medium of prayer and
fasting. There was an evident contrast between the power ex
erted by him in such cases and that with which the Pharisees were
acquainted. This is implied in the astonishment which this class
of miracles is represented to have called forth. It is implied,
also, in the fact that the accusation of a league with Satan was
brought against him. They had to assert this, or else admit that
it was " with the finger of God " that he cast out devils.3 " He
commanded the unclean spirits, and they obeyed him."
4. We find both in Matthew and Luke a passage in which
woes are uttered concerning certain cities of Galilee for remaining
impenitent.4 There is no reason for doubting that they were
uttered by Jesus. There is a question as to the time when they
were uttered, unless it be assumed that they were spoken on two
different occasions ; but that chronological question is immaterial
here. The authenticity of the tradition is confirmed, if confirma
tion were required, by the mention of Bethsaida and Chorazin.
No account of miracles wrought in these towns is embraced in
either of the Gospels.5 Had the passage been put into the
1 Mark iii. 25. 2 Antiquities, B. viii. c. 2. 3 Luke xi. 20.
4 Matt. xi. 20-25; Luke x. 13-16.
5 The Bethsaida of Mark viii. 22 was another place, northeast of the lake.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 187
mouth of Jesus falsely, there would naturally have been framed a
narrative to match it. There would have stood in connection
with it a description, briefer or longer, of miracles alleged to have
been done in those towns. Moreover, " in that same hour," ac
cording to the first Gospel, Jesus uttered a fervent thanksgiving
that the truth, hidden from the wise, had been revealed to the
simple-hearted,1 — a passage that needs no vindication of its
authenticity. This outpouring of emotion is a natural sequel to
the sorrowful impression made on him by the obduracy of the Gal
ilean cities. In Luke there is the same succession of moods of
feeling, although the juxtaposition of the two passages is not quite
so close. Now, what is the ground of this condemnation- of
Capernaum, Chorazin, and Bethsaida? It is " the mighty works "
which they had witnessed. This privilege makes their guilt more
heinous than that of Tyre and Sidon. It is the reference to the
miracles which gives point to the denunciation.
5. The manner in which faith appears as the concomitant and
prerequisite of miracles is a strong confirmation of the evangelical
narratives. Faith is required of the apostles for the performance
of miraculous works. They fail in the attempt from lack of faith.2
They are told, that with faith nothing is beyond their power.
But it is not their own strength which they are to exert. They
lay hold of the power of God, and in that power they control the
forces of Nature. So applicants for miraculous help must come to
Jesus with faith in his ability to relieve them. The exertion of his
restorative power is in response to trust. In one place, he " did
not many mighty works," because of the unbelief there.3 The
references to faith as thus connected with miracles are numerous.
They are varied in form, obviously artless and uncontrived. They
are an undesigned voucher for the truth of the narratives in which
they mingle.4
6. In connection with one miracle there is instruction as to
its design which it is difficult to believe did not emanate from
Jesus. It is embedded in the heart of the narrative, as it was an
1 Matt. xi. 25-28. 2 Mark ix. 18; Luke ix. 40. 3 Matt. xiii. 58.
4 See Matt. viii. 10 (Luke vii. 9), ix. 2 (Mark ii. 5; Luke v. 20), ix. 22
(Mark v. 34, x. 52), xvii. 20 (Luke xvii. 6); Luke viii. 48, xvii. 19;
Matt. xv. 28; Luke vii. 50, xviii. 42; Mark v. 36, ix. 23; Matt. viii. 13; John
iv. 50, ix. 38; Acts iii. 16, xiv. 9.
1 88 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
essential part of the transaction.1 He is in a house at Capernaum
surrounded by a crowd. A paralytic is brought by four men, and
is let down through the roof, this being the only means of bringing
him near Jesus. Seeing their faith, he said tenderly to the para
lytic, "Son (or child), be of good courage : thy sins are forgiven
thee." The disease, we are led to infer, was the result of sin, it
may be of sensuality. The sufferer's pain of heart Jesus first
sought to assuage. It was the first step toward his cure. These
words struck the scribes who heard them as blasphemous. Jesus
divined their thoughts, and asked them which is the easier to say,
"Thy sins be forgiven thee," or "Arise and walk"? If one pre
supposed divine power, so did the other. Then follows the state
ment, " That ye may know that the Son of man hath power on
earth to forgive sins " —here he turned to the paralytic — " Arise,
take up thy bed, and go unto thine house." The entire narrative
is replete with the marks of truth ; but this one observation, de
fining the motive of the miracle, making it subordinate to the
higher end of verifying his authority to grant spiritual blessings,
carries in it evident marks of authenticity. Did not Jesus say
this? If he did, he performed the miracle.
V. We hear it said, and sometimes read in print, that in those
days " everybody believed in miracles and felt no surprise at their
occurrence." This is not true. The golden age of the Hebrew
religion, the period of life and enthusiasm, lay to the Jews of that
day, with their dry legalism, in the remote past. Its reappearance,
and with it miracles, were looked for when the Messiah should
come. The ordinary feeling of surprise at a miracle is expressed
in the words attributed by one of the Evangelists to the Jews,
" Since the world began it was never heard that any one opened
the eyes of a man born blind." 2
The fact that no miracles are attributed to John the Baptist,
whom all held to be a prophet, should convince one that the mira
cles attributed to Jesus were actually performed. The multitude
flocked to hear the prophet of the wilderness. Yet he made no
claim to work miracles, and none were credited to him by his
own disciples.
In the Gospels, John is regarded as a prophet inferior to no
other. His career is described. Great stress is laid on his tes
timony to Jesus. Why are no miracles ascribed to him in them?
1 Mark ii. 10 ; cf. Matt. ix. 6; Luke v. 24. 2 John ix. 22.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 189
They would have served to corroborate his testimony. If there
was a propensity in the first disciples of Christ, or in their successors,
to imagine miracles where there were none, why are no fabrica
tions of this sort interwoven with the story of John's preaching?
They had before them the life of his prototype, Elijah, and the
record of the miracles done by him. What (except a regard for
truth) hindered them from mingling in the story of the forerunner
of Jesus occurrences equally wonderful? Why do we not read
that one day he responded to the entreaty of a poor blind man by
restoring his sight, that on another occasion he gave back to a
widow the life of her son, that at a certain time a woman who had
been for years a helpless invalid was immediately cured by a word
from the prophet, that the diseased were often brought to him by
their friends to be healed? The only answer is that the Gospel
narratives are not the product of imagination. They relate the
events that actually took place.
VI. It is equally difficult for sceptical criticism to explain why
not a miracle is ascribed to Jesus prior to his public ministry.
Why should the imagination of the early Christians have stopped
short at his baptism? Why did not fancy run back, as in the
later apocryphal fictions, over the period that preceded ? A defi
nite date is assigned for the beginning of his miraculous agency.
Fancy and fraud do not curb themselves in this way.
VII. The persistence of the faith of the apostles in Jesus as
the Messiah, and of his faith in himself, admits of jno satisfactory
explanation when the miracles are denied.
How were the apostles to be convinced that he was the prom
ised, expected Messiah? What were the evidences of it? He
took a course opposite to that which they expected the Messiah
to take. He planned no political change. He enjoined meek
ness and patience. He held out to them the prospect of persecu
tion and death as the penalty of adhering to him. Where was
the national deliverance which they had confidently anticipated
that the Messiah would effect? How intangible, compared with
their sanguine hopes, was the good which he sought to impart !
Moreover, they heard his claims denied on every side. The
guides of the people in religion derided or denounced them.
Had there been no exertions of power to impress the senses, and
the mind through the senses, it is incredible that the apostles
could have believed in him, and have clung to him, in the teeth
IQO THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
of all the influences fitted to inspire distrust. We might ask how
Jesus himself could have kept on cherishing the unwavering con
viction that he was in truth the Messiah of God, if he found him
self possessed of no powers exceeding those of the mortals about
him, powers which had been inseparably connected with the coming
Messiah. Remembering the miraculous powers of Moses and
Elijah, could he, if they were denied to him, have maintained this
consciousness, without the least faltering, especially when he saw
himself spurned by the rulers, rejected by the people, and at length
deserted by his timid disciples ?
Strauss is, on the whole, the most prominent writer in modern
times who has undertaken to reconstruct the Gospel history, leav
ing out the miracles. His theory was, that the narratives of mira
cles are a mythology spontaneously spun out of the imagination
of groups of early disciples. But what moved them to build up
so baseless a fabric ? What was the idea that so possessed the mind
as to clothe itself with unconscious fancies ? Why, at the founda
tion of it all, was the fixed expectation that the Messiah must be a
miracle- worker? The predictions of the Old Testament and the
example of the prophets required it. How was it, then, that, in
the absence of this indispensable criterion of the Messianic office,
these same disciples believed in Jesus? How came he to believe
in himself? To these questions the author of the mythical theory
could give no answer which does not shatter his own hypothesis.
The same cause which by the supposition impelled to the imagin
ing of miracles that were false must have precluded faith, except
on the basis of miracles that were true.
VIII. In the evangelical tradition the miracles enter as potent
causes into the nexus of occurrences. They are links which
cannot be spared in the chain of events.
Take, for example, the opening chapters of Mark, which most
critics at present hold to be the oldest Gospel. There is an
exceedingly vivid picture of the first labors of Jesus in Capernaum
and its vicinity. His teaching, to be sure, thrilled his hearers.
"He taught them as one that had authority."1 But the intense
excitement of the people was due even more to another cause. In
the synagogue at Capernaum a demoniac interrupted him with
loud cries, calling him " the Holy One of God." At the word of
Jesus, after uttering one shriek, the frenzied man became quiet
1 Mark i. 22.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES IQI
and sane. The mother of Peter's wife was raised from a sick-bed.1
Other miraculous cures followed. It was the effect of these upon
the people that obliged him to rise long before dawn iy. order to
anticipate their coming, and to escape to a retired place for
prayer. It was a miracle wrought upon a leper that compelled
Jesus to leave the city for " desert places," — secluded spots,
where the people would not throng upon him in so great numbers.2
Very definite occurrences are traced to particular causes, which
are miraculous acts done by Christ. It was the raising of Lazarus
and its effect on the people that determined the Jewish rulers to
apprehend Jesus without delay and to put him to death. The
fact that this event, in a record which contains so many unmistak
ably authentic details, is the point on which the subsequent history
turns, forced upon Renan the conviction that there was an appar
ent miracle, — something that was taken for a miracle, — and
this conviction he was not able to persuade himself absolutely to
relinquish.3
The miracle at Jericho, which is described, with some diversity
in the circumstances, by three of the Evangelists, Keim, always
disposed to discount the miraculous, found it impossible to resolve
into a fiction.4 He refers to the fact that all of the first three Gos
pels record it.5 He adverts to the fresh and vivid character of the
narratives. But the main consideration is the explanation afforded
of the rising tide of enthusiasm in the people at this time, of which
there is full proof. But Keim, still reluctant to admit the super
natural, alludes to the popular excitement as quickening " the vital
and nervous forces," and so restoring the impaired or lost vision
of the man healed. It is intimated that this access of nerve-force,
coupled with his faith, may have effected the cure. The point
which concerns us here is the reality of the transaction as it
appeared to the spectators. The physiological solution may pass
for what it is worth. If cures had been effected by Jesus in this
way, no supernatural factor entering into the means, there would
have been conspicuous failures, as well as instances of success ; and
how would these failures have affected the minds of the disciples
and of other witnesses of them, not to speak of the mind of Jesus
1 Mark i. 30, 31. 2 /^., i. 35, v. 45.
3 Vie de Jesus, I3th ed., pp. 507, 514.
4 Gesch. Jesu von Nazara, vol. iii. p. 53.
5 Luke xviii. 35-43, xix. i ; Matt. xx. 29-34 ; Mark x. 46-52.
192 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
himself? The resurrection of Jesus, more than any other of the
miracles, bridges over an otherwise impassable chasm in the course
of events. We see the disciples, an intimidated handful of dis
heartened mourners. Then we see them on a sudden transformed
into a band of bold propagandists of the new faith, eager to avow
it and ready to lay down their lives for it. The resurrection is the
event which accounts for this marvellous change and for the spread
of Christianity which follows. But this event requires to be more
thoroughly considered.
IX. The proof of the crowning miracle of Christianity, the res
urrection of Jesus, cannot be successfully assailed, even were the
ordinary views of the sceptical school respecting the origin of the
Gospels tenable.
As we stand for the moment on common ground with them, we
cannot make use of such an incident as the doubt of Thomas and
the removal of it,1 although this incident, as is conceded respect
ing other portions of the fourth Gospel, may be historical, even if
not John, but another author wrote the book. An uncertainty is
thrown over the circumstances relating to the intercourse of the
disciples with Jesus after his death, which are found in the Gos
pels. That is, prior to establishing the genuineness of the Gos
pels, it is open to question how far the details are faithfully
transmitted from the witnesses. But, as regards the cardinal fact
of the Gospel, we have definite evidence from an unimpeachable
source. The Apostle Paul states with precision the result of his
inquiries on the subject.2 The crucifixion took place A.D. 29 or
30. According to the scheme of chronology which is advocated
by Harnack, Paul was converted A.D. 30. According to the ordi
nary view, the event occurred four years after the crucifixion —
that is, A.D. 34. In A.D. 37 he went to Jerusalem, and staid a fort
night with Peter.3 He was conversant with the apostles and other
disciples. He knew what their testimony was. In the church at
Corinth there were parties. Some professed to be adherents of
one apostle, and some of another. There were those, also, who
doubted the truth of the Christian doctrine of the resurrection.
Paul was interested to show that disbelief on this subject was
groundless and destructive of the Christian faith, and, incidentally,
to show his equality with the other apostles, in answer to any who
might be disposed to call it in question. He enumerates in the
1 John xx. 24-30. 2 I Cor. xv. 4-8. 3 Gal. ii. 18.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 193
most distinct manner five interviews of the risen Jesus with the
disciples (independently of the miracle which occurred on the
journey to Damascus) : the appearance of Jesus to Peter, then
to "the Twelve," then to five hundred disciples at once, a
majority of whom were still living, then to James, then to " all
the apostles." Last of all, he adds, " He appeared to me
also." He does not imply that he is giving all the appearances of
the risen Jesus. He is concerned, for the personal reason men
tioned above, to make mention of apostles and to place himself
in the same category with them. But the appearances which he
does record are carefully given in chronological order. " James "
is doubtless James, the brother of the Lord. From Paul's explicit
statement, and from other perfectly conclusive evidence, it is cer
tain that the first of the supposed appearances of Christ to the
disciples was on the morning of the next Sunday after his death.
It was on " the third day." x Then it was that they believed them
selves to have irresistible proof that he had risen from the tomb.
This was the principal fact which they proclaimed, the one main
foundation of their faith and hope. The question is, Were they,
or were they not, deceived? Is the Christian Church founded on
a fact or on a delusion? Did Christianity, which owes its exist
ence and spread to this immovable conviction on the part of the
apostles, spring from either a fraud or a dream ? The notion which
once had advocates, that Christ did not really die, but revived from
a swoon, is given up. How could he have gone through the cruci
fixion without dying? What would have been his physical condi
tion, even if a spark of life had remained? If he did not die
then, when did he die? Did he and the apostles agree to pretend
that he had died? The slander of the Jews, that some of the dis
ciples stole his body, nobody will for a moment credit. Why
should men make up a story which was to bring them no benefit,
but only contempt, persecution, and death ? The question what
became of the body of Jesus is one which those who distrust the
testimony of the apostles do not satisfactorily answer. It is not
doubted that the tomb was found empty. Jewish adversaries had
the strongest reason for producing the body if they knew where it
was. That would have instantly destroyed the apostles' testimony.
1 I Cor. xv. 4, cf. Matt. xvi. 21, xvii. 23, xx. 19, xxvii. 63, xxviii. I ; Mark
viii. 31, ix. 31, xiv. 58, xv. 29, xvi. 2, 9 ; Luke ix. 22, xiii. 32, xviii. 33, xxiv.
I, 7, 21, 46 ; John ii. 19, xx. I, 19, 26.
194 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
The only hypothesis which has any plausibility at the present day,
in opposition to the customary faith of Christians, is the " vision-
theory." The idea of it is, that the apostles mistook mental im
pressions for actual perceptions. Their belief in the resurrection
was the result of hallucination. Of this theory, it is to be said that
responsibility for the supposed delusion, if it was a delusion, comes
back upon the founder of Christianity himself. Whoever thinks
that the disciples were self-deceived, not only, as Schleiermacher
correctly judges, attributes to them a mental imbecility which would
make their entire testimony respecting Christ untrustworthy, but
implies that, when Christ chose such witnesses, his judgment was
strangely at fault. Or, if Christ willingly permitted or led them to
mistake an inward impression for actual perceptions, he is himself
the author of error, and forfeits our moral respect.1 But the vision-
theory is built up on false assumptions, and signally fails to explain
the phenomena in the case. We need not pause here to examine
the affirmation of Paul, that he had personally seen Christ. This
must be observed, that he distinguishes that first revelation of
Christ to him — which stopped him in his career as an inquisitor,
and made him a new man in his convictions and aims — from sub
sequent " visions and revelations." 2 They were separated in time.
It was not on them that Paul professed to found his claim to be an
apostle. He refers to them for another purpose. The words that
he heard in a moment of ecstasy — whether " in the body or out
of the body" he could not tell — he never even repeated.3 That
sight of Jesus which was the prelude of his conversion he gives as
the sixth and last of his appearances to the apostles : " Last of all
... he appeared to me also." It was objective, a disclosure to
the senses. It was such a perception of Christ, that his resurrec
tion was proved by it — a fact with which the resurrection of
believers is declared to be indissolubly connected.4 This meant
more to him than the survival of the soul. It was to be " clothed
upon" with a spiritual body.5 Nothing less than this does he
mean when he says of Christ that " he was buried and that he
was raised." Attempts have been made to account for Paul's con
version by referring it to a mental crisis induced by secret misgiv
ings, and leanings toward the faith which he was striving to destroy.
1 Christl. Glaube, vol. ii. p. 88. 4 I Cor. xv. 12-21.
2 Cor. xii. i ; I Cor. ii. 10. 5 Compare 2 Cor. v. 3, 4.
3 2 Cor. xii. 4 ; cf. Keim, vol. iii. p. 538, n. I.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 195
Some have brought in a thunder-clap or a sunstroke to help on the
effect of the struggle supposed to be taking place within his soul.
One trouble with this psychological explanation of the miracle is,
that the assumption of previous doubts and of remorseful feelings
is not only without historical warrant, but is directly in the teeth
of Paul's own assertions. Inward conflict with evil impulses — con
flicts of the " flesh" with the "spirit" — were something quite differ
ent from such misgivings. It is not true, however, that Paul
implies that the appearances of the risen Christ to the other
apostles were exactly similar to Christ's appearance to him on the
road to Damascus. His claim was simply that he, too, had seen
Christ. The circumstances might be wholly different in his case.
Jewish Christians who were hostile to Paul made a point of the
difference between his knowledge of Christ through visions and the
sort of knowledge vouchsafed to the other apostles. The risen
Christ whom these saw did not speak to them from heaven. They
believed him to be with them on the earth. He had not yet
ascended. His real or supposed presence in the body with them
was an essential part of what they related. Without it, the whole
idea of the ascension was meaningless. We might go farther, and
say, that, in the absence of decisive proof to the contrary, it is to
be presumed that the accounts which the apostles were in the
habit of giving of their interviews with the risen Jesus — facts so
immeasurably important to themselves and others — are, in the
main, preserved in the Gospels. Why should it be doubted that at
least the essential nature of these interviews, or of their impression
of them, about which the Apostle Paul had so particularly inquired,
can be learned from the Evangelists?
But the details in the Gospel narratives may be left out of
account for the present.1 The main facts indisputably embraced
1 Inconsistencies, real or only apparent, in respect to the details, in the
Gospel narratives, are such as might be expected in accounts from different
sources. They are such as are met with in secular history in connection with
epoch-making events, the reality of which is not subject to doubt. The
hurried and scanty notices in Mark and Matthew are in accord with
the habit of restriction to Galilean occurrences. The last twelve verses in
Mark do not belong in the text. The text closes abruptly (ver. 8) with the
statement that the women did not report to the disciples the message relating
to Galilee. Not unlikely the second Gospel was the source of what is set
down in the first (except Matthew xxviii. 9, 10). If Mark repeated what was
ascertained from Peter, we should expect that he would not have omitted the
196 THE GROUNDS OF TH El STIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
in the testimony of the apostles are sufficient. There are criteria
of hallucination. If there were not, we should on all occasions be
at a loss to know when to credit witnesses, or even when to trust
our own senses. We have to consider, in the first place, the state
of mind into which the apostles were thrown by the crucifixion.
It was a state of sorrow and dejection. Their hopes for the time
were crushed. Whoever has seen the dead Christ in the famous
painting of Rubens at Antwerp can imagine the feeling of the
disciples when they looked on the terrible reality. How was it
possible for them within a few days — within two days, in the case
of some, if not of all — to recover from the shock? How was it
possible that in so short a time joy took the place of grief and fear?
Whence came the sudden rekindling of faith, and with it the cour
age to go forth and testify, at the risk of their own lives, that Jesus
was indeed the Messiah? The glowing faith, rising to an ecstasy
of peace and assurance, out of which hallucination might spring,
did not exist. The necessary materials of illusion were absolutely
wanting. The natural suggestion of the language of Paul is that
the manifestation to Peter was on the third day, and this is con
firmed by Luke (xxiv. 34) . There was no long interval of silent
brooding over the Master's words and worth. There was no grad
ual recall of predictions or intimations of a continued presence
or another coming that had mingled in his conversations with them.
The time was short — a few days. Even then there are no traces
of any fever of enthusiasm. The interviews with the risen Christ
are set down in the Gospels in a brief, calm way, without any
marks of bewildering agitation. No, the revulsion of feeling must
have been produced from without. The event that produced it
was no creation of the apostles' minds. It took them by surprise.
Secondly, the number and variety of the persons — five hundred
at once — who constitute the witnesses, heighten the difficulty in
the way of the hallucination-theory. Under circumstances so
gloomy and disheartening, how were so many persons — compris
ing, as they must have comprised, all varieties of temperament —
transported by the same enthusiasm to such a pitch of bewilder-
appearance of Christ to Peter, which is attested by Paul as well as by Luke.
On these points, and on the proof of the occurrence of the manifestations of
Christ, certainly the earliest and the most of them in Jerusalem, see the
instructive monograph of Loofs, Die Auferstehungs-Berichte z/. ihr Wert
(1898).
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 197
ment as to confound a mental image of Christ with the veritable,
present reality? But, thirdly, a greater difficulty lies in the limited
number of the alleged appearances of Jesus, considering the state of
mind which must be assumed to have existed if the hallucination-
theory is adopted. Instead of a small number, there would have
been a multitude of such " visions." This the analogy of religious
delusions authorizes us to assert. If the five hundred collectively
imagined themselves to see Christ, a great portion of them would
individually, before and after, have imagined the same thing. The
limited, carefully marked, distinctly recollected number of the
appearances of Jesus to the apostles is a powerful argument against
the theory of illusion. Fourthly, connected with this last consid
eration is another most impressive fact. There was a limitation
of time as well as of number. The appearances of Jesus, whatever
they were, ceased in a short period. Why did they not continue
longer? There were visions of one kind and another afterward.
Disbelievers point to these as a proof of the apostles' credulity.
Be this as it may, the question recurs, Why were there no more
visions of the risen Jesus to be placed in the same category with
those enumerated by Paul? Stephen's vision was of Christ in the
heavenly world. In the persecutions recorded in Acts, when mar
tyrs were perishing, why were there no Christophanies? There is
not a solitary case of an alleged actual appearance of Jesus on the
earth to disciples, after the brief period which is covered by the
instances recorded by Paul and the Evangelists. There were those
distinct occurrences, standing by themselves, definitely marked,
beginning at a certain time, ending at a certain time.
We know what the mood of the apostles was from the time of
these alleged interviews with the risen Christ. They set about
the work of preaching the gospel of the resurrection, and of found
ing the Church. There was no more despondency, no more fal
tering. It is undeniable that they are characterized by sobriety
of mind, and by a habit of reflection, without which, indeed, the
whole movement would quickly have come to an end. The
controversies attending the martyrdom of Stephen were not more
than two years after the death of Jesus. Then followed the mis
sion to the Jews and to the heathen, the deliberations respecting
the position to be accorded to the Gentile converts, and the whole
work of organizing and training the churches. To be sure, they
claimed to be guided by the Divine Spirit. Light was imparted
198 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
to them, from time to time, through visions. Take what view one
will of these phenomena, it is plain, that, on the whole, a discreet,
reflective habit characterized the apostles. This is clear enough
from the Acts, and from the Epistles, on any sane view respecting
the credibility of these books which critics are disposed to take.
Now this reasonableness and sobriety belonged to the apostles
from the first, or it did not. If it did, it excludes the supposition
of that abandonment to dreamy emotion and uninquiring revery
which the hallucination-theory implies. If it did not, then it
behooves the advocates of this hypothesis to tell what it was that
suddenly effected such a change in them. What broke up, on a
sudden, the mood of excitement and flightiness which engendered
notions of a fictitious resurrection ? How was a band of religious
dreamers, not gradually, but in a very short space of time, trans
formed into men of discretion and good sense? Why did these
devotees not go on with their delicious dreams, in which they
believed Jesus to be visibly at their side. The sudden, final ter
mination, without any outward cause producing it, of an absorb
ing religious enthusiasm like that which is imputed to the apostles
and to the five hundred disciples, is without a parallel in the
history of religion.
It is the force of these considerations which compelled so keen
a critic as Keim to deny credence to the illusion-theory. " It
must be acknowledged," he says, "that this theory, which has
lately become popular, is only an hypothesis that explains some
things, but does not explain the main thing, nay, deals with the
historical facts from distorted and untenable points of view."1
" If the visions are not a human product, not self-produced ; if
they are not the blossom and fruit of a bewildering over excite
ment ; if they are something strange, mysterious ; if they are
accompanied at once with astonishingly clear perceptions and
resolves, — then it remains to fall back on a source of them not
yet named : it is God and the glorified Christ."- Thus the ces
sation of the visions at a definite point can be accounted for.
The extraneous power that produced them ceased to do so. It
was, in truth, the personal act and self-revelation of the departed
Jesus. Without this supernatural manifestation of himself to
convince his disciples that he still lived in a higher form of
being, his cause would, in all probability, have come to an end at
1 Gesch. Jesu von Nazara, vol. iii. p. 600. 2 Ibid., p. 602.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 199
his death. Faith in him as Messiah would have gradually vanished,
the disciples would have gone back to Judaism and the synagogue,
and the words of Jesus would have been buried in the dust of
oblivion.1 A powerful impression, not originating in themselves,
but coming from without, from Christ himself, alone prevented
this catastrophe. The admission of a miracle is extorted from
this writer by the untenableness of every other solution that can be
thought of. At the end of a work which is largely taken up with
attempts, direct or indirect, to displace supernatural agency,
Keim finds himself impelled by the sheer pressure of the evidence
to assert its reality, and to maintain that the very survival of
Christianity in the world after the death of Jesus depended on it.
If he still stumbles at the particular form of the miracle which
the testimony obliges us to accept, yet the miracle of a self-
manifestation of Jesus to the apostles he is constrained to presup
pose.
On a question of this kind historical evidence can go no farther.
When it is declared by a large number of witnesses who have no
motive to deceive, that a certain event took place before their
eyes, and when the circumstances forbid the hypothesis of self-
deception, there would appear to be no alternative but to admit
the reality of the fact. The proof is complete. The fact may
still be denied by an unreflecting incredulity. It may be affirmed
to be impossible, or to be under any circumstances incapable of
proof. Against such a contention, testimony, historical proof of
any sort is powerless. The immovable faith of the apostles that
Jesus " showed himself alive to them " is a fact that nobody ques
tions. Without that faith Christianity would have died at its birth.
Whoever refuses to give credit to their testimony ought to explain
in some satisfactory way the origin, strength, and persistence of that
faith.
X. The concessions which are extorted by the force of the evi
dence from the ablest disbelievers in the miracles are fatal to their
own cause.
At the beginning of this century the theory of Paulus, the Ger
man Euemerus, was brought forward. It was the naturalistic
solution. The stories of miracles in the New Testament were
based on facts which were misunderstood. These were actual
occurrences ; but they were looked at through a mist of supersti-
1 Gesch. Jesu von Nazara, vol. iii. p. 605.
2OO THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
tious belief, and thus misinterpreted and magnified. Jesus had
a secret knowledge of potent remedies, and the cures which he
effected by the application of them passed for miracles. The
instances of raising the dead were cases of only apparent death.
For example, Jesus saw that the son of the widow of Nain was
not really dead. Perhaps the young man opened his eyes, or
stirred, and thus discovered to Jesus that he was alive. Jesus
mercifully saved him from a premature burial. He did not think
himself called upon to correct the mistaken judgments of the dis
ciples and of others, who attributed his beneficent acts to preter
natural power. He allowed himself in a tacit accommodation
to the vulgar ideas in these matters. This theory was seriously
advocated in learned tomes. It was applied in detail in elaborate
commentaries on the Gospels.
Strauss simply echoed the general verdict to which all sensible
and right-minded people had arrived, when he scouted this at
tempted explanation of the Gospel narratives, and derided the
exegesis by which it was supported. The theory of Paulus made
the apostles fools, and Christ a Jesuit. But the hypothesis which
Strauss himself brought forward, if less ridiculous, was not a whit
more tenable. Unconscious myths generated by communities of
disciples who mistook their common fancies for facts ; myths
generated by bodies of disciples cut off from the care and over
sight of the apostles who knew better ; by disciples, who, neverthe
less, succeeded in substituting in all the churches their fictitious
narrative, in the room of the true narrative, which was given by
the apostles, — here were improbabilities so gross as to prevent
the mythical theory from gaining a lasting foothold in the field
of historical criticism. It was impossible, as it was explained
above, to see how the faith of the myth-making division of disci
ples was produced at the start. No such class of disciples, cut
off from the superintendence of the apostles, existed. If it be
supposed that such a class of disciples did exist, the agents who
planted Christianity in the towns and cities of the Roman Empire
were not from these, but were the apostles and their followers.
And then, how could the established tradition as to Christ's life be
superseded by another narrative, emanating from some obscure
source, and presenting a totally diverse conception from that
which the apostles or their pupils were teaching? So the mythi
cal theory went the way of the naturalistic scheme of Paulus.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 2OI
Seeing his failure, Strauss afterward tried to change the definition
of myth, and to introduce an element of conscious invention into
the idea ; but in so doing he destroyed the work of his own hands.
Or rather he sought shelter in a house which he, in common with
many others, had shown to be built on the sand.
Renan has undertaken, in a series of volumes, to furnish upon
the naturalistic basis an elaborate explanation of the origin of
Christianity. In the successive editions of his Life of Jesus he has
considered and reconsidered the problem of the miracles. What
has he to say? He tells us that miracles at that epoch were thought
indispensable to the prophetic vocation. The legends of Elijah
and Elisha were full of them. It was taken for granted that the
Messiah would perform many.1 Jesus believed that he had a gift
of healing. He acquired repute as an exorcist.2 Nay, it is unde
niable that " acts which would now be considered fruits of illusion
or hallucination had a great place in the life of Jesus." 3 The four
Gospels, he holds, render this evident. Renan sees that there
is no way of escaping the conclusion that miracles seemed to be
wrought, and that they were a very marked feature in the history
as it actually occurred. Those about Jesus — the entourage —
were probably more struck with the miracles than with anything
else.4 How shall this be accounted for? Illusion in the mind
of Jesus, an exaggerated idea of his powers, will go a little way
toward a solution of the question, but does not suffice. It must
be held that the part of a thaumaturgist was forced on Jesus by
the craving of disciples and the demand of current opinion. He
had either to renounce his mission or to comply.5 His miracles
were "a violence done him by his age, a concession which a press
ing necessity wrested from him." € There were miracles, or trans
actions taken for miracles, in which he consented " to play a
part." 7 He was reluctant ; it was distasteful to him ; but he
consented. Then come M. Renan's apologies for Jesus. Sin
cerity is not a trait of Orientals. We must not be hard upon
deception of this sort. We must conquer our " repugnances."
" We shall have a right to be severe upon such men when we have
accomplished as much with our scruples as they with their lies."
1 Vie de Jesus, p. 266, cf. p. 271. * Ibid., p. 269.
2 Ibid., p. 273. 6 Ibid., p. 267.
8 Ibid., p. 277. 6 Ibid., p. 279.
''Ibid., p. 513.
202 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
In that impure city of Jerusalem, Jesus was no longer himself.
His conscience, by the fault of others, had lost its original clear
ness. He was desperate, pushed to the extremity, no longer
master of himself. Death must come to restore him to liberty,
to deliver him from a part which became every hour more exact
ing, more difficult to sustain.1
In plain English, Jesus was an impostor, reluctantly, yet really
and consciously. From enthusiasm it went on to knavery ; for
pious fraud, notwithstanding M. Renan's smooth deprecation, is
fraud. The Son of man sinks out of sight, with his conscience
clouded, his character fallen. M. Renan's excuses for him are
not mere excuses for a wicked person, or one thought to be such,
but for wickedness itself. Even his apologies for Judas are less
offensive.
This defamation of Jesus is for the theory of disbelief a reductio
ad absurdum. The wise and good of all Christian ages are told
that their veneration is misplaced. Jesus was not the " holy one."
There is nothing even heroic in him. He is swept away by a
popular current, giving up his rectitude, giving up his moral dis
crimination. He is made up in equal parts of the visionary and
the deceiver. By his moral weakness he brings himself into such
an entanglement, that to escape from it by death is a piece of
good fortune. He to whom mankind have looked up as to the
ideal of holiness turns out to be, first a dreamer, then a fanatic
and a charlatan. It is proved that a clean thing can come out of
an unclean. Out of so muddy a fountain there has flowed so
pure a stream. Courage, undeviating truth, steadfast loyalty to
right against all seductions, in all these Christian ages, have sprung
from communion with a dishonest man, who obeyed the maxim
that the end justifies the means. For no gloss of rhetoric can
cover up the meaning that lies underneath M. Renan's fine
phrases. When the light coating of French varnish is rubbed off,
it is a picture of degrading duplicity that is left.
This is the last word of scientific infidelity. Let the reader
mark the point to which his attention is called. On any rational
theory about the date and authorship of the Gospels, it is found
impossible to doubt that facts supposed at the time of their occur
rence to be miraculous were plentiful in 'the life of Jesus. The
advocates of Atheism are driven to the hypothesis of hallucination
1 Vie de Jesus, p. 375.
PRELIMINARY PROOF OF THE MIRACLES 203
with a large infusion of pious fraud. There is no fear that such
a theory will prevail. No being could exist with the heterogene
ous, discordant qualities attributed by Renan to Christ. Were
such a being possible, the new life of humanity could never have
flowed from so defiled a source.
The arguments which this chapter contains will not convince
an atheist. One who denies that God is a personal being is, in
direct proportion to the force of his conviction, debarred from
believing in a miracle. There can be no supernatural element
introduced into the course of events if nothing supernatural
exists. One will either seek for some other explanation of the
phenomena, or leave the problem unsolved. Secondly, these
arguments, it is believed, separately taken, are valid ; but they
are also to be considered together. Their collective strength is
to be estimated. If the single rod could be broken, the same
may not be true of the bundle. Thirdly, it is not to be forgotten
that demonstrative reasoning on questions of historical fact is
precluded. He who requires a coercive argument where prob
able reasoning alone is applicable must be left in doubt or dis
belief. In the strongest conceivable case of probable reasoning
there is always a possibility of the opposite opinion being true,,
Enough that reasonable doubt is excluded.1
- On Heathen and Ecclesiastical Miracles, see Appendix, Note 21,
CHAPTER X
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD OF THE TESTIMONY GIVEN BY
THE APOSTLES
WHAT did the apostles testify? Is their testimony concerning
Jesus to be relied on ? In the historical inquiry which we are pur
suing, these are the questions to be answered. The subject of
the authorship and date of the Gospels is important from its rela
tion to the first of these points. Only by investigating the origin
of the Gospels can we ascertain whether these writings are a trust
worthy account of the testimony given by the apostles. But
proof, from whatever quarter it may come, that such is the fact,
even though not touching directly the question by what particular
authors the Gospels were written, it is pertinent to adduce. And
proof of this character, it will be seen, is not wholly wanting.
There is one remark to be made at the threshold of the dis
cussion before us. The circumstance that the Gospels contain
accounts of miracles gives rise, in some minds, to a conscious or
unconscious disinclination to refer these writings to the apostles, or
to regard them as a fair and true representation of their testimony.
But this bias is unreasonable. Apart from the general considera
tion, that the very idea of revelation implies miracle, it has been
already proved that accounts of miracles, and of some at least
of the very miracles recorded in these histories, did form a part
of the narratives of the ministry of Jesus which the apostles were
accustomed to give.
The proof of the genuineness of the Gospels is like that which
determines the authorship of other ancient writings — for example,
the writings of the Jewish historian Josephus, who was a contem
porary of the apostles, Plutarch's Lives, or the histories of Livy and
Tacitus. In the case of the Gospels we have additional sources
of proof in the relation of the Gospels to the Christian societies,
the unique interest felt in these narratives, and the wide-spread
use made of them. The idea that they were not ascribed to their
204
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 205
real authors is unreasonable, unless definite objections can be
alleged of sufficient weight to counteract the customary force of
evidence from the tradition. Doubts resting on no solid basis, or
guesses, are as little to be regarded as if they had reference to the
authorship of the orations of Cicero.
The universal reception of the four Gospels as having exclusive
authority by the churches in the closing part of the second cen
tury, requires to be accounted for, if their genuineness is called in
question. The Christian literature which has survived from the
latter part of the first century and the beginning of the second
is scanty and fragmentary. But when we come out into the light
in the last quarter of the second century, we find the Gospels of
the canon in undisputed possession of the field. We hear, more
over, from all quarters, the declaration that these are the Gospels
which have come down from the apostles. We are given to
understand that their genuineness had never been questioned
in the churches. There was no centralized organization, be it re
membered, such as might be misled by designing men to lend
authority to their claims. They owed this universal acceptance
to the concerted action of no priesthood, to the decree of no
council. The simple fact is, that these books — ascribed respec
tively to four authors, two of whom were apostles, and the other
two were not — were recognized by the Christian churches every
where, and, it was alleged, had been thus recognized without dis
pute. Here is Irenaeus, born at least as early as A.D. 130 —
probably a number of years earlier l — in Asia Minor, bishop of
the church of Lyons from A.D. 178 to 202 ; an upright man in a
conspicuous position, and with ample means of acquiring a knowl
edge of the churches in Asia Minor and Italy, as well as in Gaul.
In defending Christian truth against the grotesque speculations of
the Gnostics, he is led, at the beginning of the third book of his
treatise, to make his appeal to the Scriptures. This leads him to
present an account of the composition of the Gospels, — how
1 Lightfoot (Essays on Supernatural Religion, p. 264) would tix the date of
Irenseus's birth at A.D. 120 ; Ropes (Bib. Sacra, April, 1877, pp. 288 set/.'),
at about A.D. 126 ; so Ililgenfeld. But Zahn argues ably (Herzog u. Plitt's
Real. Encyd., vii. 1345^7.) for an earlier date, A.D. 115. Harnack formerly
in accord (Die Uberlieferung d. griechischen Apologg. d. 2ten Jahrh., p. 204)
now would assign A.D. 130 as the earliest admissible date, but favors a date
"shortly before A.D. 142" (Chronologic, i. 329).
206 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Matthew published "a written Gospel among the Hebrews in
their own language " ; Mark put in writing " the things that were
preached by Peter "; Luke, "the attendant of Paul," wrote the
third Gospel ; and " afterwards, John, the disciple of the Lord,
who also leaned on his breast — he again put forth his Gospel
while he abode at Ephesus in Asia."1 He is not, be it observed,
announcing any new discoveries. He is simply explaining what
was commonly understood. These Gospels, and no others, he
tells us, the churches acknowledge. Fully to illustrate how Ire-
nseus constantly assumes the exclusive authority of the Gospels of
the canon would require us to transfer to these pages no incon
siderable part of his copious work. Passing over the sea to
Alexandria, we find Clement, who was born probably at Athens,
certainly not later than A.D. 160, and was at the head of the
catechetical school in the city of his adoption from A.D. 190 to
203, having previously travelled in Greece, Italy, Syria, and Pales
tine.2 Referring to a statement in an apocryphal Gospel, he
remarks that it is not found "in the four Gospels which have
been handed down to us."3 In another place he states the order
in which these Gospels were written as he had learned it from
" the oldest presbyters." 4 Then, from the church of North Africa
we have the emphatic affirmations of Tertullian (born about A.D.
1 60) of the sole authority of the four Gospels, which were written
by apostles and by apostolic men, their companions.5 In the
churches founded by the apostles, and by the churches in fellow
ship with them, he asserts, the Gospel of Luke had been received
since its first publication. "The same authority of the apostolic
churches," he adds, "will also support the other Gospels," of
which Matthew, Mark, and John were the authors. The Mura-
torian Fragment of Roman origin, the date of which is not far
from A.D. 170, is a fragment which begins in the middle of a sen
tence. That sentence, from its resemblance to a statement made
by an earlier writer, Papias, respecting Mark, as well as from what
immediately follows in the document itself, evidently relates to
this Evangelist. This broken sentence is succeeded by an account
of the composition of Luke, which is designated as the third Gos
pel, and then of John. In Syria, the Peshito, the Bible of the
ancient Syrian churches, having its origin at about the same time
1 Adv. Hter., ii. i. 2 Euseb., //. £., v. 1 1. 3 Strom., Hi. 553 (ed. Potter).
4 T!J)V av^Kadev irpefffivrtpuv, Euseb., //. /:., vi. 14. & Adv. Marc., iv. 2-6.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 2O/
as the Muratorian Fragment, begins with the four Gospels. The
canon of Scripture was then in process of formation ; and the
absence from the Peshito of the second and third Epistles of John,
second Peter, Jude, and Revelation, — books which were disputed
in the ancient church, — is a proof at once of the antiquity of that
version and of the value of the testimony given by it to the uni
versal reception of the Gospels.
It must be borne in mind that the Fathers who have been
named above are here referred to, not for the value of their opin
ion as individuals in regard to the authorship of the Gospels, but
as witnesses for the footing which they had in the churches. These
Christian societies now encircled the Mediterranean. They were
scattered over the Roman Empire from Syria to Spain.1 No
doubt the exultation of the Fathers of the second century over the
rapid spread and the prospects of Christianity led to hyperbole in
describing the progress it had made.2 But, making all due allow
ance for rhetorical fervor, it is to be remembered that, in writing
for contemporaries, it would have been folly for them intentionally
to indulge in misstatement in a matter of statistics with which
their readers were as well acquainted as they were themselves.
Christians had become numerous enough to excite anxiety more
and more in the rulers of the empire. The question to be an
swered is, how this numerous, widely dispersed body had been
led unanimously to pitch upon these four narratives as the sole
authorities for the history of Jesus. For what reasons had they
adopted, nullo contradicente, these four Gospels exclusively, one
of which was ascribed to Matthew, a comparatively obscure apos
tle, and two others to Luke and Mark, neither of whom belonged
among the Twelve ?
But the situation of these Fathers personally, as it helps us to
determine the value of their judgment on the main question, is
1 There were Christians in Spain (Irenoeus, Adv. Har., i. 10, 2; Tertullian,
Adv. Judcco .v, c. 7). If, as is probable, Spain is designated by the r6 r^p/xa
TT}S SiVews of Clement of Rome (Kp., v.), St. Paul visited that country. See
Bishop Lightfoot's note (The Epp. of Clement of Rome, p. 49).
2 Tertullian (Adv. Jud/cos, c. 7; Apol., c. 37), Irenaeus (Adv. Hcer., i. 10,
i, 2; iii. 4, i), cf. Justin {Dial., c. 117). For Gibbon's comments on these
statements, see Decline and Fall, etc., ch. xv. (Smith's ed., ii. 213, n. 177).
Gibbon refers to Origen's remark (Contra Cels., viii. 69), that the Christians
are "very few" comparatively; but he omits another passage (c. ix.) of the
same work, in which Origen refers to them as a "multitude," of all ranks.
2O8 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEL'1
worth considering. Irenaeus has occasion, in connection with the
passage already cited from him, to dwell on the tradition respect
ing the teaching of the apostles which is preserved in the various
churches founded by them. Of these churches he says, that it is
easy to give the lists of their bishops back to their foundation.
By way of example, he states the succession of the Roman bishops.
In these lists, as given by the ancient writers, there will be some
discrepancies as to the earliest names, owing chiefly to the fact
that, in the time before episcopacy was fully developed, leading
presbyters, and not always the same persons, would be set down
in the catalogues.1 But a person who is familiar now with any
particular church in whose history he has felt a strong interest will
have little difficulty in recounting the succession of its pastors ex
tending back for a century, and will not be ignorant of any very
remarkable events which have occurred in its affairs during that
period. Moreover, Irenseus was acquainted with individuals who
had been taught by John and by other apostles. He had known
in early life Polycarp, whose recollections of the Apostle John
were fresh.2 He had conferred with " elders " — that is, venerated
leaders in the Church, of an earlier day — who had been pupils of
men whom the apostles had instructed. His language indicates
that some of them had sat at the feet of the apostles themselves.3
Of one of these " elders " in particular he makes repeated men
tion, whose name is not given, but whom in one place he styles
" apostolorum discipulus." 4 The phrase hardly admits of more
than one interpretation. Pothinus, whom Irenseus succeeded at
Lyons, was thrown into prison in the persecution under Marcus
Aurelius, A.D. 177, and died two days after, being past ninety
1 Gieseler's Church History, I. i. 3, § 34, n. 10.
2 Adv. Har., iii. 3, 4; Epist. ad Flor.
3 Adv. flar., ii. 22, 5; iii. i, i; iii. 3, 4; v. 32, I; v. 33, 3; v. 33, 4; cf.
Euseb., H. E., iii. 23, iv. 14, v. 8. In iv. 27, i, Irenaeus speaks of what he had
heard from a certain presbyter " who had heard from those who had seen the
Apostles, et ab his qui didicerant." The last clause may denote "those who
were disciples of Christ himself," or the " ab his " may belong after " qui," and
the meaning may be " those who had been taught " by such as had seen the
apostles. See the comment of Lightfoot, Essays on Supernatural Religion,
p. 266. See also the elaborate discussion, embracing a review of Harnack's
interpretations, in Zahn's Forschungen zur Gesch. d. N. T". Kanons u. d. alt-
kirchl. Lit., Theil vi., p. 53 seq.
4 Adv. I her., iv. 32, I.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 2OQ
years old. Pothinus was probably from Asia Minor, whence the
church at Lyons was planted. His memory ran back beyond the
beginning of the century. He is one of many who had numbered
among their acquaintances younger contemporaries of apostles.
Clement of Alexandria was a pupil of Pantaenus, who had founded
the catechetical school there shortly after the middle of the second
century. As a Christian learner, he had been taught by promi
nent teachers in different countries in the East and in the West.
In all of the oldest churches there were persons who were sepa
rated from apostles by only one link.
The attempt has often been made to discredit the testimony of
Irenaeus by reference to a passage which really strengthens it.
After asserting that there are four Gospels and no more, he fan
cifully refers to the analogy of the four winds, four divisions of the
earth, four faces of the cherubim, four covenants, etc.1 We are
told by Froude, " That there were four true evangelists, and that
there could be neither more nor less than four, Irenaeus had per
suaded himself, because there were four winds or spirits," etc.2 It
is plain to every reader of Irenaeus, that his belief in the four
Gospels is founded on the witness given by the churches and by
well-informed individuals, to their authenticity, and that these
analogies merely indicate how entirely unquestioned was the
authority of the Gospels in his own mind and in the minds of all
Christian people. It was something as well settled as the cos-
mical system. If some enthusiast for the Hanoverian house were
to throw out the suggestion that there must be four, and only four,
Georges, because there are four quarters of the globe, four winds,
etc., Froude would hardly announce that the man's conviction of
the historic fact that those four kings have ruled in England is
founded on these fanciful parallels. Froude himself shrinks from
his own assertion as quoted above ; for he adds, " It is not to be
supposed that the intellects of those great men who converted the
world to Christianity were satisfied with arguments so imaginative as
these ; they must have had other closer and more accurate grounds
for the decision," etc. But then he continues, " The mere em
ployment of such figures as evidence in any sense shows the
enormous difference between their modes of reasoning and ours,
and illustrates the difficulty of deciding, at our present distance
from them, how far their conclusions were satisfactory." If they
1 Adv. liar., iii. 2, 7. - Short Studies on Great Subjects, p. 213.
p
210 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
had " other closer and more accurate " grounds of belief, why
should such instances of weakness in reasoning, even were it in
tended as strict reasoning, operate to destroy the value of their
testimony? A man who is not a faultless logician may be a
perfectly credible witness to facts within his cognizance. But the
inference suggested by Froude's remark as to the intellectual
character of Irenaeus is hasty. A single instance of weak rea
soning is a slender basis for so broad a conclusion. Jonathan
Edwards is rightly considered a man of penetrating intellect and
of unsurpassed skill in logic. Yet in his diary he makes this
absurd remark : " January, 1728. I think Christ has recommended
rising early in the morning, by his rising from the grave so early." ]
Certainly no one would feel himself justified, on account of
Edwards's remark, in disputing his word on a matter of fact within
his personal cognizance. We do not mean that Irenseus had the
same measure of intellectual vigor as Edwards ; nevertheless, he
is not to be stigmatized as a weak man, and he furnishes in his
writings a great many examples of sound reasoning. The inference
unfavorable to the value of his testimony, which Froude in com
mon with many others has drawn from a single instance of fanciful
argument or illustration, is itself an example of flimsy logic.
In quoting the statements of the Christian writers of the closing
part of the second century, it is not implied, of course, that either
they or their informants were incapable of error. Who does not
know that traditions, the substance of which is perfectly trust
worthy, may interweave incidental or minor details, which, if not
without foundation, at least require to be sifted ? A tradition may
take up new features of this character, even in passing from one
individual to another, when there is an average degree of accuracy
in both. But every intelligent historical critic knows the distinc
tion which is to be made between essential facts and their acces
sories. It is only the ignorant, or the sophist who has an end to
accomplish, that ignore this distinction, and seek to apply the
maxim, falsus in uno, falsiis in omnibus, which relates to wilful
mendacity, to the undesigned modifications which oral statements
are almost sure to experience in the process of transmission from
one to another. It is evident that the few documents on which
the Christians of the second century depended for their knowledge
of the life and ministry of Christ must have had an importance
1 Dwight's Life of Edwards, p. 106.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 211
in their eyes which would render the main facts as to the origin
of these writings of extreme interest and importance. As to these
documents, the foundation of the faith for which they were ex
posing themselves to torture and death, information would be
earnestly sought and highly prized. That this curiosity, which
we should expect to find, really existed, the ecclesiastical writers
plainly indicate.
Let us now step back from the age of Irenseus to the first half
of the second century. In that obscure period, where so many
writings which might have thrown light on the questions before
us have perished, there is one author who is competent to afford
us welcome information. It is Justin Martyr. He was born in
Palestine, at Flavia Neapolis, near the site of the ancient Sichem.
He was in Ephesus about A.D. 135. He had been an adherent of
the Platonic School, and at this date wore the garb of a philosopher,
a fact which shows that he was not a youth. From his pen there
remain two apologies, the second being the sequel or appendix of
the first, which was addressed to Antoninus Pius, not later than
A.D. 152, and a dialogue with Trypho, a Jew. In these writings,
two of which are directed to heathen, and the third designed to
influence Jews, there was no occasion to refer to the Evangelists
by name. The sources from which he draws his accounts of the
life and teaching of Jesus are styled Memoirs, a term borrowed
from the title given by Xenophon to his reminiscences of Socrates.
Were these Memoirs the four Gospels of the canon ? 1
The first observation to be made is, that a tolerably full narra
tive of the life of Jesus can be put together from Justin's quota
tions and allusions, and that this narrative coincides with the
canonical Gospels. The quotations are not verbally accurate ;
neither are Justin's citations from heathen writers or the Old
Testament prophets. He is not always in verbal agreement with
1 On the subject of the Memoirs of Justin and his quotations, the following
writers are of special value : Semisch, Die apostolischen Denkwurdigkeiten
des Martyrers Justinus (1848); Sanday, The Gospels in the Second Century,
pp. 88-138; Norton, The Evidences of the Genuineness of the Gospels, vol. i.
pp. 200-240, ccxiv.-ccxxxiii.; Westcott, History of the Canon of the N. T.
(1881), pp. 96-179; Professor E. Abbot, "The Authorship of the Fourth
Gospel," Critical Essays (I) ; Purves, The Testimony of Justin Martyr, etc.
(1889); also Bleek's Einl. in d. N. T. (ed. Mangold), p. 271 seq. ; Hilgen-
feld's Kritisch. Untersuch. uber die EvangelL Justins, der Clementiner, u,
Martians.
212 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
himself when he has occasion to cite a passage or to refer to an
incident more than once.1 It was not a custom of the early
Fathers to quote the New Testament writers with verbal accuracy.
Justin blends together statements in the different Gospels, This
is easily accounted for on the supposition that he was quoting from
memory, and when it is remembered that, for the purpose which
he had in view, he had no motive to set off carefully to each
Evangelist what specially belonged to him. A similar habit of con
necting circumstances from the several Gospels is not unfrequent
at present, familiar as these writings have now become. It is im
possible here to combine all the items of the gospel history which
may be gathered up from Justin's writings, but an idea of their
character and extent may be given by casting a portion of them
into a consecutive narrative.2
The Messiah, according to Justin, was born of a virgin. Particulars
of the annunciation (Luke i. 26, 31, 35) and of Joseph's dream (Matt,
i. 18-25) are given. He was born in Bethlehem, where his parents
were, in consequence of the census under Quirinius. He was laid in a
manger, was worshipped by the Magi, was carried by his parents into
Egypt on account of the machinations of Herod, which led to the
massacre of the children in Bethlehem. From Egypt they returned,
after the death of Herod. At Nazareth Jesus grew up to the age of
thirty, and was a carpenter (Mark vi. 3). There he remained until
John appeared in his wild garb, declaring that he was not the Christ
(John i. 19 seg.), but that One stronger than he was coming, whose
shoes he was not worthy to bear. John was put in prison, and was be
headed, at a feast on Herod's birthday, at the instance of his sister's
daughter (Matt. xiv. 6 seq.}. This John was the Elijah who was to
come (Matt. xvii. 11-13). Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan.
The temptation followed. To Satan's demand to be worshipped,
Jesus replied, " Get thee behind me, Satan,1' etc. Jesus wrought mira
cles, healing the blind, dumb, lame, all weakness and disease, and
raising the dead. He began his teaching by proclaiming that the
kingdom of heaven is at hand (Matt. iv. 17). Justin introduces a large
number of the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, sayings from the
narrative of the centurion of Capernaum (Matt. viii. II, 12 ; Luke xiii.
1 E.g. Matt. xi. 27. See Apol., i. 63; Dial., 106.
2 The quotations from Justin are collected in Credner's Beitr'dge zur EinL,
etc., pp. 150-209. The resume above is mainly abridged from Dr. Sanday's
The Gospels in the Second Century, pp. 91-98. Summaries of a like nature
are given in Mr. Sadler's 77ie 1 ost Gospel and its Contents (London, 1876);
also by Purves, 77ie Testimony of Justin Martyr, p. 179 seq.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 213
28, 29), and of the feast in the house of Matthew. He brings in the
choosing of the twelve disciples, the name Boanerges given to the sons
of Zebedee (Mark iii. 17), the commission of the apostles, the discourse
of Jesus after the departure of the messengers of John, the sign of the
prophet Jonah, Peter's confession of faith (Matt. xvi. 15-18), the an
nouncement of the passion (Matt. xvi. 21). Justin has the story of the
rich young man; the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem; the cleansing of
the temple ; the wedding-garment ; the conversations upon the tribute-
money, upon the resurrection (Luke xx. 35, 36), and upon the greatest
commandment ; the denunciations of the Pharisees ; the eschatological
discourse; and the parable of the talents (Matt. xxv. 14-30). Justin's
account of the institution of the Lord's Supper corresponds to that of
Luke. Jesus is said to have sung a hymn at the close of the Supper, to
have retired with three of his disciples to the Mount of Olives, to have
been in an agony, his sweat falling in drops to the ground (Luke xxii.
42-44). His followers forsook him. He was brought before the
scribes and Pharisees, and before Pilate. He kept silence before Pilate.
Pilate sent him bound to Herod (Luke xxiii. 7). Most of the circum
stances of the crucifixion are narrated by Justin, such as the piercing
with nails, the casting of lots, the fact of sneers uttered by the crowd,
the cry, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? " and the last
words, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit " (Luke xxiii. 46).
Christ is said to have been buried in the evening, the disciples being
all scattered, according to Zech. xiii. 7 (Matt. xxvi. 31, 56). On the
third day he rose from the dead. He convinced his disciples that his
sufferings had been predicted (Luke xxiv. 26, 46). He gave them his
last commission. They saw him ascend into heaven (Luke xxiv. 50).
The Jews spread a story that the disciples stole the body of Jesus from
the grave (Matt, xxviii. 3).
This is a mere outline of the references to the gospel history
which are scattered in profusion through Justin's writings. A full
citation of them would exhibit more impressively their correspond
ence to the Gospels. Harnack does not doubt that the Gospel
and the First Epistle of John were known and cherished by Papias
and the Presbyters, his informants, and that both works were
extant before the end of Trajan's reign. There is no longer need,
so far as their date is concerned, to discuss their relation either to
Justin, or to Valentinus, or to Marcion.1 The larger portion of
the matter, it will be perceived, accords with what we find in
Matthew and Luke ; a small portion of it, however, is found in
Mark exclusively. The Synoptics had been longer in use, and
1 Harnack, Die Chronologic d. altcJiristl. Lit., I. pp. 658, 659.
214 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
citations from them, especially of sayings of Christ, were more
current. Besides, Justin's aim was an apologetic one. He was
not writing for Christian believers. Passages from the Synoptics
he might naturally find better suited to the special ends he had in
view. But there are not wanting clear and striking correspond
ences to John. The most important of these single passages is
that relating to regeneration/ which, notwithstanding certain
verbal variations to be noticed hereafter, bears a close resem
blance to John iii. 3-5. Again: Christ is said by Justin to have
reproached the Jews as knowing neither the Father nor the Son
(John viii. 19, xvi. 3). He is said to have healed those who were
blind from " their birth," 2 using here a phrase which, like the
fact, is found in John alone among the Evangelists (John ix. i).
Strongly as these and some other passages resemble incidents and
sayings in John, the correspondence of Justin's doctrinal state
ments respecting the divinity of Christ and the Logos to the
teaching of the fourth Gospel is even more significant. These
statements are so many, and the emphasis attached to the doctrine
is such, that an acknowledged authority must be at the basis of
them. Justin speaks of Christ as the Son of God, "who alone is
properly called Son, the Word ; who also was with him, and was
begotten before" the works.3 He says of Christ, that " he took
flesh, and became man."4 We are "to recognize him as God
coming forth from above, and Man living among men." 5 Concep
tions of this sort expressed in language either identical with that
of John, or closely resembling it, enter into the warp and woof
of Justin's doctrinal system. They are both in substance and style
Johannean. It is not strange that he was acquainted with the
Alexandrian Jewish philosophy, and that traces of its influence are
not absent. But the incarnation was a conception foreign to that
system. Professed theologians may think themselves able to point
out shades of difference between Justin's idea of the preexistence
and divinity of Christ and that of the fourth Gospel. But, if there
be an appreciable difference, it is far less marked than differences
which subsist among ancient and modern interpreters of the Gospel
without number. The efforts of the author of the work entitled
Supernatural Religion to make out a great diversity of idea from
1 Apol., i. 61. 3 Apol., ii. 6. Cf. Dial., 129.
2 Dial., c. 49. 4 Ibid., i. 32.
6 Ibid., i. 23.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 215
unimportant variations of language — as in the statement that the
Logos " became man," instead of the Hebraic expression, " be
came flesh" — hardly merit attention. Some of his criticisms
apply with equal force to the Nicene Creed, and would prove its
authors to have been unacquainted with the fourth Gospel, or not
to have believed in it.1
The next observation respecting Justin is, that his reference to
events or sayings in the Gospel history which have not substantial
parallels in the four evangelists are few and insignificant.2 They
embrace not more than two sayings of Jesus. The first is, " In what
things I shall apprehend you, in these will I judge you,'13 which is
found also in Clement of Alexandria 4 and Hippolytus.5 The second
is, " There shall be schisms and heresies," 6 — a prediction referred also
to Christ by Tertullian 7 and Clement.8 Thus both passages occur in
other writers who own no authoritative Gospels but the four of the
canon. Justin represents the voice from heaven at the baptism of
Jesus as saying, " Thou art my Son ; this day have I begotten thee," 9
— a combination of expressions, which is found in the Codex Bezas, in
1 See The Lost Gospel, etc., p. 91. In Dial., c. 105, Justin is more natu
rally understood as referring a statement peculiar to the Memoirs to John.
See Professor E. Abbot, "Authorship of the Fourth Gospel," in Critical
Essays, p. 45.
2 Scholars have searched in the early Christian literature for sayings attrib
uted to Christ which are not found in the four Gospels. The best known
example of these agrapha, as they are termed, is the saying in Acts xx. 35,
"It is more blessed to give than to receive." One of the best of the
class of authors referred to is Resch, whose collection of materials has
been critically examined by Professor J. H. Ropes. (Die Spriiche Jesu, etc.,
in Gebhardt u. Harnack's Texts u. Untersuchungen, etc., xiv. 2.) Professor
Ropes reduces the number of such non-canonical sayings which, with any
measure of probability, are really traceable to Jesus, to twenty-one. The Oxy-
rhynchus Fragment, discovered not long ago in Egypt, contains seven logia, or
sayings of this character. Other local or special collections of a like nature
may, perhaps, yet be found. It must be said, however, that on the lists occur
a not inconsiderable number, a comparison of which with the canonical say
ings of Christ awakens a decided doubt as to their authenticity.
8 Dial., c. 47. 4 Quis div. salvus, c. 40.
6 Opp. ed. de Lag., p. 73 (Otto's Justin, \. 2, p. 161, n. 21). The origin of
the passage has been traced by some to Ezekiel, to whom Justin refers in
the context. See Ezek. vii. 3, 8, xviii. 30, xxiv. 14, xxxiii. 20. Otto suggests
that it may have been a marginal summary attached by some one to Matt,
xxiv. 40 seq., xxv. I seq.
6 Dial., c. 35, cf. c. 51 ; cf. I Cor. xi. 18, 19. 7 De Prescript. Hcer., c. 4.
8 Strom., vii. 15, § 90. * Dial., c. 88, cf. c. 103.
2l6 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Clement of Alexandria,1 in Augustine,2 and is said by him to be the
reading in some manuscripts, though not the oldest.3 The recurrence
of the same expression in Ps. ii. 7, or Acts xiii. 33, Heb. i. 5, v. 5, led
naturally to a confusion of memory, out of which this textual reading
may have easily sprung. That Jesus was charged by the Jews with
being a magician 4 is a statement made by Lactantius 5 as well as by
Justin. There is evidence that it was probably derived by Justin from
his Jewish contemporaries. The incidental saying, that the ass on
which Jesus rode was tied to a vine,6 was probably a detail taken up
from Gen. xlix. 11, with which it is connected by Justin. The say
ing connected with the designation of Jesus as a carpenter, that he
made ploughs and yokes,7 may have sprung from his words in Luke ix.
62 and Matt. xi. 29, 30. It was found pleasant to imagine him to
have once made these objects to which he figuratively referred.8 Jus
tin speaks of Jesus as having been born in a cave,9 but he also says that
he was laid in a manger. That the stable which contained the manger
was a cave or grotto was a current tradition in the time of Origen.10
One other allusion is found in the brief catalogue of uncanonical passages
in Justin. He speaks of a fire kindled on the Jordan in connection with
the baptism of Jesus, — a circumstance which might have mingled itself
early in the oral tradition. These constitute the supplement to the con
tents of the four Gospels to be found in the mass of Justin's references : u
1 Peed., i. 6. 2 Rnchir. ad. Laur., c. 49.
z De Cons. Evv., ii. 14 (Otto, i. i, p. 325).
* Dial, c. 49, cf. Apol., i. 30. 8 See Otto, i. 2, p. 324; Semisch, p. 393.
*> Institutt., v. 3. * Dial., c. 78.
6 Apol.,\. c. 32. 10 Cont. Celsum, i. 51.
7 Dial., c. 88.
11 Other slight variations from the Gospels are sometimes owing to the wish
of Justin to accommodate the facts in the life of Jesus to the predictions of
the Old Testament. This is especially the case, as might be expected, in the
dialogue with Trypho the Jew. The following, it is believed, are all the in
stances of circumstantial deviation from the Evangelists. Mary is said to have
descended from David {Dial., c. 43, cf. cc. 45, 100, 120). This statement is
connected (c. 68) with Isa. vii. 13. Irenseus and Tertullian say the same of
Mary. The Magi came from Arabia (Dial., c. 77, cf. cc. 78, 88, 102, 106), on
the basis of Ps. Ixxii. 10, 15 ; Isa. Ix. 6. The same is said by many later writers
(Semisch, p. 385). In connection with Ps. xxii. u, it is said (Dial., c. 103),
that, when Jesus was seized, not a single person was there to help him. In
Dial., c. 103, Pilate is said to have sent Jesus to Herod bound ; this being
suggested by Hos. vi. i. So Tertullian, Adv. A fare., iv. c. 42; also Cyril of
Jerusalem (see Otto, i. 2, p. 370, n. 14). The Jews, it is said (Apol., i. 35),
set Jesus on the judgment-seat, and said, "Judge us," — which may be a
confused recollection of John xix. 13, in connection with Matt, xxvii.
26, 30. In Dial., i. 101 (Apol. i. 38), the bystanders at the cross are
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 217
and, as the author of Supernatural Religion, the work referred to above,
observes, " Justin's works teem with these quotations.'' In the index
to Otto's critical edition they number 281. It may be here remarked,
that not one of these supplementary scraps is referred by Justin to the
Memoirs.
It is thus evident that, whatever the Memoirs were, their con
tents were substantially coincident with the contents of the four
Gospels. It is a necessary inference that, at the time when Justin
wrote, there existed a well-established tradition respecting the life
and teaching of Jesus ; for the Memoirs, he tells us, were read on
Sundays in the churches, in city and country.1 The period of his
theological activity was from about A.D. 140 to A.D. 160. None
will probably be disposed to question that as early, at least, as
A.D. 135, which was some time after his conversion to Christianity,
he was conversant with this gospel tradition, and knew that it was
inculcated in the churches. The Jewish war of Barchochebas
(A.D. 131 to 136), he says, was in his own time.2 But that date
(A.D. 135), to which the personal recollection of Justin on this
subject extended, was only thirty-seven years after the accession
of Trajan, — an event which preceded the death of the Apostle
John at Ephesus.3 If the date of Justin's acquaintance with the
habitual teaching of the church respecting the life of Jesus were
1902, in the room of 135, the termination of the apostle's life
would be set no farther back from us than 1865. Justin incident
ally remarks, that many men and women sixty or seventy years
old, who had been Christians from their youth, were to be found
said to have distorted their lips, — the thing predicted in Ps. xxii. 7 ; and in
Apol, i. 38, on the basis of several passages in the Psalms, they are said to
have cried out, " He who raised the dead, let him save himself." In Apol., i.
50, the disciples after the crucifixion are said to have fled from Christ, and
denied him ; and in c. 106 (cf. c. 53) they are said to have repented of it
after the resurrection ; the prophetic references being Zech. xiii. 7, and Isa.
liii. 1-8. In Dial., c. 35, Jesus is represented as predicting that " false apos
tles " (as well as false prophets) will arise. This is not presented as an instance
of prophecy fulfilled; but the same thing is found in Tertullian, De Prcesc.
Hcerett., c. 4, and in other writers. In Dial, c. 51, Jesus predicts his reap
pearance at Jerusalem, and that he will eat and drink with his disciples, —
a free paraphrase of Matt. xxvi. 29, and Luke xxii. 18. Not one of these pas
sages in the context where it occurs would naturally lead the reader to
presuppose any other source of them than the canonical Gospels.
lApol., i. 67. '2 Ibid., i. 31. 3 Irenaeus, Adv. liar., ii. 22. 5; iii. 3, 4.
2l8 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
in the churches.1 Many of his Christian contemporaries could
remember as far back as the closing decades of the first century.
Is it reasonable to believe that in the interval between John and
Justin, in the organized Christian societies of Syria, Asia Minor,
and Italy, with which Justin is considered to have been conver
sant, the established conception of the life of Jesus, of his doings
and sayings, underwent an essential alteration ?
Partly on the basis of the imcanonical passages in Justin, certain
critics have contended that the mass of his quotations were derived
from some other Gospel than the four ; in particular, from the Gospel
of the Hebrews, or from an apocryphal Gospel of Peter. There was
an Aramaic gospel, commonly called ''the Gospel according to the
Hebrews,1' which was extensively used by Jewish Christians in Palestine
and Syria. It is referred to by a number of the Fathers. Jerome trans
lated it into Greek and Latin.2 It came to be thought that it was the
original of the Gospel of Matthew of which Papias speaks. Possibly
this was true of it in its primitive form ; for it underwent various
modifications. In all its forms, however, it retained its affinity to our
first Gospel. It is evident from the fragments that remain that the
canonical Gospel is the original, and that the deviations from it in
parallel texts in the Gospel of the Hebrews are of a later date. "The
Aramaic fragments contain much that can be explained and understood
only on the hypothesis that it is a recasting of the canonical text.1' 3
Respecting the Gospel of Peter, we have a statement, preserved in
Eusebius, of Serapion, who was bishop of Antioch at the end of the
second and beginning of the third century. He had found this book
in use by some in the town of Rhossus in Cilicia. He had never heard
of it before. It was tinged with the heresy of Docetism, although in
the main orthodox. Eusebius 4 and Jerome 5 refer to it as an heretical
book which no early teacher of the Church had made use of. A portion
of this work, which was discovered in 1886-87, embraces a consecutive
account of the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus. It is later than the
canonical Gospels, John included,6 and in a few instances varies from
them. Justin in one passage7 speaks of the change in Peter's name
and the giving of the name Boanerges to James and John, his authority
^ApoL, i. 15. 2 De Vir. III., c. 2.
3 For an elaborate and critical discussion of the Gospel of the Hebrews in its
different forms, see Zahn, Einl. in d. N. T., II. 260 seq., and other passages,
with the references to his Gesch. d. Kanons d. N. 7\ Also see Harnack, Die
Chronologic d. altchristl. Lit., I. p. 625 seq.
* Euseb., //. E., iii. 25. 5 De Vir. Ill, i.
6 Harnack now concurs in the opinion that this is probable. Chronologic,
I. 474- 7 AP°l" l 35-
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 2IQ
being "his [Peter's] Memoirs." This last incident is related only in
the Gospel of Mark,1 whose Gospel was connected by the ancient writers
with Peter as its indirect source. A similar passage occurs in the res
cued fragment of the Gospel of Peter. Harnack thinks it probable that
Justin used this Gospel, and that he even included it in his Gospel
Memoirs? Schiirer rightly judges that the evidence does not suffice
for either part of this conclusion. " In the scantiness of the data,11 he
remarks, " it is quite possible that Justin and the apocryphal Gospel, as to
the passages in question, go back to a common source.11 3 Dr. Sanday
was disposed to think that Justin " used this new Gospel, but not
largely." He adds that as a literary substratum, the canonical Gospels
cover very nearly the whole ground which the apocryphal Gospel
covers.114 Dr. Chase (Hastings' Dictionary of the Bible, Art. "Peter
Simon,") agrees with Schiirer. To the present writer the supposition
of the use of it by Justin appears quite improbable, the supposition that
he makes it one of his Memoirs, eminently so. See Chase's article.
For other reasons for this judgment, see p. 251 of the present work.
Formerly certain critics were disposed to think that Justin drew
the main portion of his quotations from the Jewish Christian
Gospels. One reason for this contention was the character of the
verbal deviations in these quotations from the text of the Gospels.
This argument is destitute of force.
His quotations are not more inexact than those of other Fathers
which are known to be derived from the canonical Gospels. In one of
the most striking instances of inexact quotation (Matt. x. 27 ; cf. Luke
x. 22) the same variations from the canonical text are found in Clement
of Alexandria, Origen, and Irenaeus.5 In repeated instances, Justin
attributes passages to one prophet which belong to another.6 He
quotes the Old Testament and heathen writers with the same sort of
freedom. Where Justin varies from the Septuagint, he often varies in
different places in the same manner. Hence uniformity of variation
does not in the least warrant the inference of the use of other books
than the Gospels. The main argument which is relied on to prove the
non-canonical source of Justin's quotations is the alleged identity of
some of them which deviate from the canonical text with quotations
in the Clementine Homilies, which are assumed to be from a Hebrew
gospel. The answer to this is conclusive. The author of the Homilies
presents at least one passage which is undeniably from John. Of the
five quotations on which the argument for identity of origin rests, it has
1 iii. 17. 2 Chronologie, I. 474.
3Theol. Lit. Zeittmg, 18 (1893), No- 2» P- 34-
4 Inspiration, pp. 310, 313. 6 See Semisch, p. 367.
6 E.g. Apol., i. 53, where a passage in Isaiah is credited to Jeremiah.
220 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
been demonstrated that there is no such resemblance as the argument
assumes to exist.1 What can be the worth of reasoning which, were it
valid, would compel us to hold that Jeremy Taylor drew his knowledge
of the teachings and acts of Christ, not from the Gospels of the canon,
but from a lost Ebionic document ? Certain passages of Scripture are not
unfrequently misquoted in the same way, owing to causes which in each
case are readily explained. There are, so to speak, stereotyped errors
of quotation. Another occasion of greater or less uniformity in verbal
deviations from the text as we have it is the diversity of manuscripts.
Attention to the ordinary operations of memory, and more familiarity
with textual criticism, would have kept out untenable theories of the
kind just reviewed.
Justin was a native of Palestine. He may have had some knowledge
of the Gospel of the Hebrews, as other Fathers had. He may have
read in it that Jesus made ploughs and yokes, and that a fire was
kindled in the Jordan at his baptism, although this last tradition is
differently given in that Gospel.2 There is no proof, however, that he
picked up these circumstances from any written source. They were
probably afloat in oral tradition before they found their way into books.
But there is decisive proof that the Gospel of the Hebrews was not one
of the Memoirs which were his authoritative sources. That was a
gospel of Judaic sectaries, and Justin was not an Ebionite. There is
not a shadow of reason to suppose that the Gospel of the Hebrews was
ever read in the churches which he must have had most prominently
in mind. It is only necessary to observe how he describes t\\z Memoirs,
to be convinced that the Gospels of the canon are meant. He speaks
of them as composed by " the apostles and their companions,'1 and this
he does in connection with a quotation which is found in Luke.3 This
accounts for his adding the term " companions " to his usual designa
tion of these documents. This is the same mode of describing the
Gospels which we find in Tertullian and in other later writers.4 In one
place, in the dialogue with Trypho, he calls them collectively "the
Gospel," — a term applied to the contents of the four, taken together,
by Irenaeus and Tertullian in the same century. He says, however,
1 See Professor Ezra Abbot, Critical Essays, " Authorship of the Fourth
Gospel," p. 103. Professor Abbot's exhaustive investigation has settled the
question of the derivation of the passage in Justin on regeneration (ApoL,
i. 61) from John iii. 3-5. Cf., on Justin and the Clementines, Westcott,
Hist, of the Canon, p. 129 seq., and note I), p. 155; Dr. E. A. Abbot, EncycL
Britt., vol. x. p. 8 1 8. Hilgenfeld was convinced by Professor E. Abbot's
essay that John was one of Justin's Gospels.
2 See Nicholson, The Gospel of the Hebrews, etc., p. 40. The statement is
found, for substance, in two ancient Latin Mss., and is perhaps alluded to
by Juvencus, a Christian writer of the fourth century.
8 Dial., c. 103. 4 See Tertullian, Adv. Marc., iv. 2.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 221
expressly that they are called "Gospels."1 Apart from this explicit
statement, it is preposterous to imagine that Justin can have one docu
ment only in mind in his references to the Memoirs. Was that docu
ment the joint production of the "apostles and their companions'1 ?
This would be a case of multiple authorship without a parallel in litera
ture. We should have to hold that a gospel comprising in itself the
contents of the four of the canon was read, in the middle of the second
century, in the churches " in city and country," and was then, within a
score of years, silently superseded by four Gospels of unknown author
ship, among which its contents were distributed. The ancient docu
ment of established authority vanished as if by magic at the advent of
these newcomers, among whom it was somehow partitioned ! And
this miraculous exchange, which took place when Irenaeus was not far
from thirty years old, occurred without his knowledge ! Such an
hypothesis is too heavy a tax on credulity. Scholars of all types of
opinion are now disposed to accept the conclusion, which should never
have been disputed, that Justin used all the Gospels of the canon ; and
it is safe to predict that there will be a like unanimity in the conviction
that it is these alone which he designates as Memoirs by the Apostles
and their Companions. "The manner," says Norton, "in which Justin
speaks of the character and authority of the books to which he appeals,
proves these books to have been the Gospels. They carried with them
the authority of the apostles. They were those writings from which he
and other Christians derived their knowledge of the history and doc
trines of Christ. They were relied upon by him as primary and decisive
evidence in his explanations of the character of Christianity. They
were regarded as sacred books. They were read in the assemblies of
Christians on the Lord's Day, in connection with the prophets of the
Old Testament. Let us now consider the manner in which the Gospels
were regarded by the contemporaries of Justin. Irenaeus was in the
vigor of life before Justin's death ; and the same was true of many
thousands of Christians living when Irenaeus wrote. But he tells us
that the four Gospels are the four pillars of the church, the foundation
of Christian faith, written by those who had first orally preached the
gospel, by two apostles and two companions of apostles. It is incred
ible that Irenaeus and Justin should have spoken of different books."
When "we find Irenaeus, the contemporary of Justin, ascribing the same
character, the same authority, and the same authors as are ascribed by
Justin to the Memoirs quoted by him, which were called Gospels, there
can be no reasonable doubt that the Memoirs of Justin were the Gos
pels of Irenaeus." 2
The proposition that Justin's Memoirs were the four Gospels
is corroborated, if it stood in need of further support, by the fact
1 Apol., \. 66. 2 Genuineness of the Gospels, pp. 237, 239.
222 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
that Tatian, who had been his hearer, and speaks of him with
admiration/ wrote a Harmony of the Four Gospels. Tatian is
intermediate between Justin and Irenasus. He was born early in
the second century and flourished as an author between A.D. 155
and 1 70. In his extant Address to the Greeks are passages evi
dently drawn from John's Gospel.2 Eusebius says that, " having
formed a certain combination and bringing-together of Gospels,
— I know not how, — he has given this the title Diatesseron ;
that is, the gospel by the four," etc. The expression " I know
not how " implies, not that Eusebius had not seen the book, but
that the plan seemed strange to him.3 It was not a harmony in
the modern sense, but an amalgamation of passages from the
Evangelists. At the beginning of the fifth century Theodoret tells
us that he had found two hundred copies of the work in circula
tion, and had taken them away, substituting for them the four
Gospels. A Syrian writer, Bar Salibi, in the twelfth century, had
seen the work ; he distinguishes it from another Harmony by
Ammonius, and he testifies that it began with the words, " In the
beginning was the Word." A commentary on this Diatesseron,
Bar Salibi states, had been made in the fourth century by
Ephraem Syrus. Up to a recent day, the character of the Diates
seron as a combination of the Four was persistently denied by the
critics of the school of Baur. This criticism has been brought to
an end not only by the discovery of two distinct Armenian ver
sions of the Commentary of Ephraem, but also by the discovery
of two copies of the Arabic version of the Diatesseron itself.4 The
composition of such a work, in which the four Gospels were
partly compounded into one narrative, is an independent proof of
the recognition which they enjoyed, and is an additional proof
that the same Gospels constituted the Memoirs of Justin.
There were a few writings, not included in the canon, which were
sometimes read in the early churches for purposes of edification ;
and some of these were held by some of the Fathers to have a
certain claim to inspiration. In this list are embraced the Epistle
ascribed to Barnabas, the Epistle of Clement of Rome, and the
Shepherd of Hermas. A book of much less note, an Epistle of
1 //. E., iv. 29 ; Tatian, Orat. ad. Graces, c. 18. 2 cc. 4, 5, 13, 19.
3 See Lightfoot, Essays on Supernatural Religion, p. 278.
4 See Zahn's Tartan's Diatesseron (1881). Harnack assigns it to 172, "if
not to 160-170." Chronologie, I., p. 722.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 223
Soter, Bishop of Rome, is also said to have been sometimes read
in churches ; and there are some traces of a similar use of an
Apocalypse of Peter, which Eusebius and Jerome brand as apocry
phal. Not one of these books was a narrative. None of them
ever had anything like the standing of the documents which re
corded the facts in the public ministry of Christ, on which the
very life of the Church depended. They were read in some of the
churches for a time; but even Fathers who regard them with
honor, as is seen in the example of Clement of Alexandria, do not
hesitate to criticise their teaching.1 The Memoirs of Justin were
narratives, placed by all the churches on a level with the prophets
of the Old Testament.2 The gradual separation of the didactic
writings whose titles have been given from the books of the canon
does not in the least help us to comprehend how the documents
referred to by Justin could have been expelled from the churches
and perished out of sight.
It is sometimes imagined, if not asserted, that apocryphal Gos
pels were widely used in the churches of the second century, and
enjoyed the esteem accorded to the four of the canon. This is a
groundless impression.3 The apocryphal Gospels which are now
1 Clement {Peed., ii. 10, eel. Potter, p. 220) dissents from a statement of
Barnabas (c. x.). Origen more definitely separates these writings from those
which are authoritative. Yet at Alexandria there was a stronger tendency to
accept writings of this class than existed elsewhere in the Church.
2 Apol.y i. 67.
3 A concise, instructive account of the New Testament apocryphal literature
is given by IT. J. Iloltzmann, Einl. in d. N. T., ed. 3 (1892). He correctly
characterizes them as " documents, almost all of which are distinguished
from the canonical writings of the New Testament by the venturesomeness
and tastelessness {Abentheuerlichkeit und Geschtnacklosigkeif) of their contents,
in great part also by their display of gnostic, sometimes, also, Jewish-
Christian, or otherwise heretical color." Of the apocryphal Gospels, Iloltz
mann says: "Not even the gospel of the Hebrews and the gospel of Marcion
in age go back of the canonical Gospels. Only by misunderstanding could the
first be made the basis of Matthew, the second the basis of Luke. Much
more is what we have said true of the writings still extant. As later products
of pious fantasy by which merely the gaps in the Reports given by the Evan
gelists might be filled out, since they only include sections of the evangelical
history, there was never any danger of their being put by the side of the four
Gospels " (pp. 486, 487). The whole subject is thoroughly handled in the
elaborate discussion by Zahn, Geschichte d. N. T. Kanons, vol. ii., pp. 621-797.
R. Hofmann's article, in Hauck, Realencyci fur. Prot. Theol. u. Kirche, vol. i.,
is condensed and quite valuable.
224 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
extant, relating to the nativity and childhood of Jesus, and to the
Virgin Mary, never pretended to be anything more than supple
ments to the received Gospels. They are of a much later date
than the age of Justin. It has been thought that two or three of
them existed in an earlier, rudimental form at that day.1 Such
was the opinion of Tischendorf. But even this is doubtful. The
Gospel of the Hebrews (not the Hebrew St. Matthew), in its various
redactions, had a wide acceptance among the different Jewish
sects. But, this Gospel and Marcion's mutilated Luke excepted,
there were no uncanonical gospel narratives which we have reason
to think had any extensive circulation among professed Christians.
There were no rivals of the Memoirs to which Justin referred.
Numerous books were fabricated among heretical parties; but,
though they might bear the name of " Gospels," they were gen
erally of a didactic nature. This is the case with The Gospel of
the Truth, which Irenseus and Tertullian inform us had been
composed by the Valentinians. It is a powerful argument for the
genuineness of the canonical Gospels, that the Gnostics are con
stantly charged with bolstering up their doctrines by perverse
interpretation of the Gospels, but are not accused of bringing
1 It may be well to state what apocryphal Gospels present a plausible claim
to great antiquity.
The Protevangelium of James treats of the nativity of Mary. Origen re
fers to it by name (in Maft., torn. x. 17, ed. Migne, vol. iii. p. 875); but it
could not be the existing book that he used, as is shown by Professor Lipsius,
Diet, of Christ. Biogr., ii. 702. Clement of Alexandria (Strom., vii.) is
thought to have referred to it. There is no proof that Justin (in Dial., c. 78)
borrowed from it. Says Professor Lipsius, " There is, indeed, no clear war
rant for the existence of our present text of the Protevangelium prior to the
time of Peter of Alexandria (311)." Gnostic and Ebionitic features are
mingled in it.
The Acta Pilati forms the first part of the Gospel of Nicodemus. Justin
(Apol., i. 28, 36) refers to the Acts of Pilate, as does Tertullian (Apol., 21 ;
cf. 5). Both have in mind, probably, not any book, but an official report,
which they assume to exist in the public archives at Rome. Eusebius (H. £.,
ii. 2) refers to a blasphemous pagan forgery under this same title, which was
of recent origin. The first trace of the present Acts of Pilate is in Epiphanius
(A.D. 376), Hcer., 50, I.
A Gospel of St. Thomas is referred to by Origen (Horn, in Luc., i.). It
was used by the Gnostic sects of Marcosians and Naassenes (Hippol., Ref.
Omn. PJar., v. 2 ; cf. Irenseus, Adv. Har., i. 20, i). Portions of this book may
exist in the extant Gospel of the same name. It relates to the boyhood of
Christ.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 225
forward narratives of their own at variance with them. On this
subject Professor Norton remarks : —
" Irenaeus and Tertullian were the two principal writers against the
Gnostics ; and from their works it does not appear that the Valentinians,
the Marcionites, or any other Gnostic sect, adduced, in support of their
opinions, a single narrative relating to the public ministry of Christ,
besides what is found in the Gospels. It does not appear that they
ascribed to him a single sentence of any imaginable importance which
the Evangelists have not transmitted. It does not appear that any sect
appealed to the authority of any history of his public ministry besides
the Gospels, except so far as the Marcionites, in their use of an imper
fect copy of St. Luke's Gospel, may be regarded as forming a verbal
exception to this remark.'"1
With the exception of the Valentinian Gospel of Truth, the
reference to which is contained in a disputed passage of Tertullian,
it is true, as Professor Norton states, that this Father " nowhere
speaks of any apocryphal Gospel, or intimates a knowledge of the
existence of such a book."2 In all the writers of the first three
centuries, there are not more quotations professedly derived from
apocryphal books called by them Gospels than can be counted on
the fingers of one hand.3 These citations in the Fathers, however,
involve no sanction of the books from which they are taken. Clem
ent of Alexandria quotes the Gospel of the Egyptians, but he quotes
it to condemn it. If in the second century, as well as later, the
Gospels of the canon were not the authorities from which the
1 Genuineness of the Gospels, iii. 222.
2 Ibid., iii. 227. Tertullian expressly states that Valentinus used all the four
Gospels (De Prescript. liar., 0.38). On the same sense of videtur in the
passages, see Professor E. Abbot, Critical Essays, p. 84.
3 Origen once quotes a statement from the Gospel of Peter {Comment, in
Matt., torn. x. 462, 463). Clement of Alexandria twice refers to statements in
the Gospel of the Egyptians {Strom., iii. 9, 13). In the so-called II. Ep. of
Clement of Rome are several passages thought to be from this Gospel, but the
source is not named. See Lightfoot's Clement, pp. 192, 193, 297 seq., 311.
Clement of Alexandria thrice (Strom., ii. 9, iii. 4, vii. 13) cites passages from
The Traditions, which was not improbably another name of the Gospel of
Matthias.
Of these authors Pseudo-Clement is the only one who seems to attribute
authority to the book to which he refers. The Gospel of the Egyptians was
used by an ascetic sect, the Encratites (Clem. Alex., iii. 9). The Encratite
tendencies of the Homily of Pseudo-Clement are noticed by Bishop Light foot,
Clement of Rome, Appendix, p. 311.
Q
226 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Church derived its knowledge of the life and teachings of Jesus,
there is no known source whence that knowledge could have been
obtained.
Celsus, the most distinguished literary opponent of Christianity
in the second century, may be joined with the Gnostics as an in
direct witness for the Gospels of the canon. He wrote, some have
thought, as early as Marcus Antoninus (A.D. 138-161). Keim
thinks that he composed his book under Marcus Aurelius, in A.D.
lyS.1 He had the Christian literature before him. He showed
no lack of industry in searching out whatever could be made to
tell against the Christian cause. As in the case of Justin, the
gospel history can be constructed out of the passages cited from
Celsus by Origen.2 But there is not an incident or a saying^
which professes to be taken from Christian authorities that is not j
found in the canonical Gospels.3 With all of these, as Keim al
lows,4 he shows himself acquainted. Had there been apocryphal
Gospels which had attained to a wide credence or circulation in
the Church, even at a date thirty or forty years previous to the
time when he wrote, this astute controversialist would have known
something of them, and would have been likely to avail himself of
the welcome aid to be derived from their inventions.
Passing by other proofs, we proceed to consider one testimony
to the Gospels which carries us back into the company of imme
diate followers of Christ. It is that of Papias, Bishop of Hierapo-
lis. He is spoken of by Irenaeus as "a man of the old time."5
He was a contemporary of Polycarp,6 who was born A.D. 69, and
died A.D. 155. He had also known the daughters of Philip,—
either the apostle, or (possibly) the evangelist.7 He is said by
Irenaeus to have been a disciple of John the apostle ; but a
1 Keim, Celsus* Wahres Wort, p. 273. Zahn fixes the date at about A.D.
170 (Einl. in d. N. 7\, II. 290); Harnack at A.D. 176-180 (Chronologic,
I- 173).
2 See the summaries of the work of Celsus, by Doddridge and Leland, in
Lardner's Credibility, etc., ii. 27 seq., and the work of Keim, as above.
3 Origen (Adv. Ce/., ii. 74) says, "Now we have proved that many foolish
assertions, opposed to the narratives of our Gospels, occur in the statements of
the Jew " [in Celsus], etc. But these " foolish assertions," as an inspection of
the previous portion of Origen's work demonstrates, are comments on the gos
pel history, not pretending to come from any Gospels.
4 p. 230. c Irenaeus, 1. c.
5 Adv. liar., v. 33, 4. 7 Eusebius, H.E., iii. 39.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 227
doubt is cast on the correctness of this statement by Eusebius.1
Be this as it may, this is certain, that he knew Aristion, and one
whom he designates " the Presbyter [or Elder] John," — whom he
calls " disciples of Jesus." 2 These may have formed a part of a
company of apostles and their followers who left Palestine for
Asia Minor about A.D. 67, on the outbreak of the Jewish war. In
the passages which Eusebius has preserved from Papias, he speaks
only of the two Evangelists, Mark and Matthew. The silence of
Eusebius, however, as to any mention of the third and fourth Gos
pels by Papias, has been demonstrated not to imply, in the least,
that these Gospels were not referred to and used by him.3 The
avowed purpose of Eusebius in these notices, and his practice in
other similar cases, would riot lead us to expect any allusion to
what Papias might say of the other Gospels, unless it were some
thing new, or of special interest. Now, Papias was informed by
"the Elder " John, that Mark was the "interpreter" of Peter,4
and wrote down accurately what he heard Peter relate of the say
ings and doings of Jesus. The same statement respecting the
relation of Mark to Peter, and the origin of the second Gospel, is
made by Clement of Alexandria,5 Irenaeus,6 and Tertullian.7 It
was the undisputed belief of the ancient Church. It is borne out
by the internal traits of Mark's Gospel.8 It has been maintained
by some that a primitive Mark, of which the Gospel of the canon
is an expansion, is the work referred to. On what is this theory
founded? First, on the statement in Papias, that Mark, though
he omitted nothing that he heard, but reported it accurately, was
precluded from recording "in order" (eV rdta) the matter thus
derived from the oral addresses of Peter. But this remark may be
founded on a comparison of Mark with Matthew, where the say
ings of Christ are often differently disposed; or, perhaps, with
Luke, who specially aimed at an orderly arrangement ; or, possi
bly, as Lightfoot thinks, with John, where the sequence of events
1 Eusebius, 1. c. 2 Ibid.
3 See Lightfoot, Essays on Supernatural Religion, p. 182.
4 The meaning is not that Mark translated Peter's Aramaic into Greek
(or Latin), but did the work of an intermediary, conveying to his readers
what he had heard from Peter. See Meyer, Ev. Markus (ed. Weiss), p. 2;
and Zahn, Rinl. in d. N. 7\, 218 seq.
5 Eusebius, If. E., ii. 15. ° Irenaeus, Adv. Hcer., iii. 10, 6.
7 Adv. Marc., iv. 5.
8 See B. Weiss, Marcusevangelium, Einl., p. 2.
228 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
is more carefully preserved.1 But it may be nothing more than a
subjective impression of Papias or of his informant. It would
seem improbable that any other Mark could have existed in the
time of Papias and Polycarp, and have been silently superseded
by the Gospel of the canon, without any knowledge of the fact
reaching Irenseus and his contemporaries. The second reason
given for the conjecture respecting an earlier Gospel of Mark is
founded on a certain hypothesis as to the relation of the synoptical
Gospels to one another, and to the authorship of the first of them.
The hypothesis is that Matthew's authorship extended only to the
compilation of the discourses of Jesus, and that the narrative por
tion of his Gospel is from another hand. Papias states that
" Matthew wrote the oracles (ra Aoyta) in the Hebrew tongue, and
every one interpreted them as he could." It is in another place
that Papias, whether following the same or a different authority,
says of the Evangelist Mark, that, in setting down what he had
heard from Peter, he wrote accurately whatever he remembered,
but did not record in order what was either said or done by
Christ, and that he did not design to give a connected account
of the Lord's " Logia " (AoytW or Aoyon/).2 Since Schleiermacher,
the theory has been widely accepted by the German critics that
under the term Logia Papias means exclusively teachings of Jesus.
The first Gospel in its present form is conceived to be dependent
on the second for its narrative matter ; yet the reverse is supposed
to be true respecting certain passages in the two Gospels. Hence
the inference concerning these passages in Mark that they are
of a later date than the body of its contents. But, in the first
place, as Lightfoot has shown, it is quite possible that Papias by
Logia designates the entire Gospel in its present form.3 Secondly,
it is quite possible, as Hilgenfeld has thought, and as Zahn main
tains, that Papias speaks only of sayings of Christ in Matthew,
because it was with these that he was specially concerned in his
own book, the Exposition? If Papias regarded the canonical
Gospel as only in part the work of Matthew, would he not have
1 Essays on Supernatural Religion, pp. 165, 205. " Per ordinem profitetur,"
says the Muratorian Fragment, after referring to Mark in terms like those used
by Papias.
2 Eusebius, H. E., iii. 39. 3 Essays on Sup. Relig., p. 173 seq.
4 Hilgenfeld, Einl., pp. 54 seq., 456 seq. (Lightfoot, ibid., p. 172); Zahn,
Einl. in d. N. T., II.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 22Q
stated who was the second author? Thirdly, as Weiss and others
think; if Logia in Papias means "discourses," the first Gospel
may, and indeed must, have included, as a subordinate element,
narrative memoranda connected with them.1 The language of
Papias distinctly implies that it was no longer necessary to trans
late the Aramaic Matthew into Greek. His use of the aorist
implies that that necessity had passed by. Zahn is justified in
declaring that if critics must assume a lost primitive Matthew,
made up of discourses of Jesus, they must rest the case on internal
grounds, instead of building it on the testimony of Papias.2 If our
present Matthew is the primitive document amplified, still the
later author stands, as regards authority and credibility, on a level
with the second and third Evangelists. The date of the completed
Gospel is proved by internal evidence to coincide very nearly with
that of the fall of Jerusalem (A.D. 70) .3
Although the statements cited by Eusebius from Papias relate
not to Luke, but to Mark and Matthew, it happens that there is
nearly contemporary evidence of striking value respecting the ex
istence and authority of the third Gospel. Marcion came from
Asia Minor to Rome about A.D. I4O.4 His heresy involved a re
jection of the apostles, with the exception of Paul, for the reason
that he deemed them tainted with Judaic error. The Fathers who
oppose Marcion describe him as having rejected the Gospels, with
the exception of Luke. He did not deny that the other Gospeb
were genuine productions of their reputed authors (there is no
hint that he did) ; but he selected Luke as his authority, he having
1 Weiss, Matthausevangel., Einl., p. 17 seq., Einl. in d. A7. T., p. 465 seq.
2 Gesch. d. N. T. Kanons, I. ii. s. 892.
3 Weiss sets the date of Mark just before A.D. 70 (" in das Ende d. sech-
ziger Jahren "), Einl. in d. N. T., s. 496; of the primitive Matthew, just be
fore the destruction of Jerusalem (ibid., s. 514); of the present Matthew, very
soon after; of Luke's Gospel, not later than A.D. 80 (ibid., s. 531). Harnack
assigns to Mark the date A.D. 65-67, to Matthew, A.D. 70-75 (Chronologic, s.
654). Harnack interprets Papias as referring to earlier written Greek recen
sions of a (probably Hebrew) Matthew, one of which was the recognized
Greek edition prior to Papias (c. A.D. 150, ibid., 693). Harnack holds to
later additions to the primitive Matthew. The composition of a Hebrew
Gospel by the apostle Matthew, which is a common source of Matthew and
Luke, Harnack admits to be possible, but not assured. He rejects the theory
of a mere collection of discourses (s. 694, note). lie assigns A.D. 78—93 as
the date of the Gospel of Luke and {he Acts of the Apostles (s. 250, s. 718).
4 See Justin, Apol., i. 26, 58.
230 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
been an associate of Paul, and made a gospel for himself by
cutting out of Luke's work passages which he considered incon
gruous with his doctrinal theories.1 That Marcion's gospel was
an abridgment of our Luke is now conceded on all hands. Dr.
Sanday has not only demonstrated this by a linguistic argument,
but has proved by a comparison of texts that the gospel of the
canon must have been for some time in use, and have attained to
a considerable circulation, before Marcion applied to it his prun-
ing-knife.2 There is no reason to doubt that he took for his pur
pose a gospel of established authority in the Church.
But we have the unimpeachable testimony of the author of the
third Gospel as to the sources of his knowledge. In the prologue
he states that his information was derived from the immediate dis
ciples of Christ.3 Unless the author who collected and preserved
such passages of the Saviour's teaching as the parables of the
Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan, and as the story of the
Pharisee and the Publican, lied, his informants were immediate
followers of Jesus. His sources were in part writings and doubt
less in part oral communications. Moreover, the book of Acts
undoubtedly has a common authorship with the Gospel. In the
Acts, the author discloses himself in an artless and incidental way,
as having been a companion of the apostle Paul in a part of his
journeying. That this author was Luke is attested by the unvary
ing tradition of antiquity. No other explanation of the passages
in which the writer speaks in the first person plural4 is satisfactory.
That as practised a writer as the author of these two books un
deniably was introduced quotations from another so carelessly is
quite improbable. For a later writer to take up these quotations,
and, still more, to assimilate them to his own style, still retaining
the " we," would be a flagrant attempt at imposture.5 Had a later
writer wished to cozen his readers into a belief that he had been
an attendant of Paul, he would not have failed to make his preten
sion more prominent. The literary discernment of Renan on a
question of this nature, which stands apart from any theological
1 TertulHan, De Prescript, ffar., c. 38.
2 The Gospels in the Second Century, ch. viii. The priority of Luke to
Marcion's gospel is admitted in the seventh edition of Supernatural Religion.
3 Luke i. 2. 4 Acts xvi. 10-19, xx- 5-xxviii. 31.
6 This intention was attributed to the author by leaders of the Tubingen
School, as it is in the Encyclopedia Biblica, art. "Acts of the Apostles."
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 231
idea, is not to be lightly esteemed. " The author of this gospel
[Luke] is certainly the same as the author of the Acts of the
Apostles." : "The book [of Acts] has a perfect unity of composition
(redaction], and it is this which decides us to attribute it to the
personage who says ' we ' (^/xet?) from xvi. 4. For to admit that
this ' we ' comes from a document inserted by the author in his
narrative is in the highest degree (souverainemeni) improbable.
The examples which they cite of such a negligence pertain to
books of no literary worth, well-nigh undigested ; but the Acts is a
book composed with a great deal of skill (beaucoup d^arf) . The
favorite expressions where the ' we ' occurs are the same as those
of the rest of the Acts and of the third Gospel."2 To conclude,
there is the same consensus in the tradition respecting the associa
tion of Luke with Paul that we find with regard to the connection
of Mark with Peter.3
The evidence, the most important points of which have been
sketched above, establishes the essential genuineness of the first
three Gospels. We have, however, within these Gospels them
selves, indirect proofs of their early date of a convincing char
acter. The most important of these internal evidences is the
form of the eschatological discourse of Jesus. In Matthew espe
cially, but also in the other synoptical Gospels, the second advent
of Christ is set in close connection with the destruction of Jerusa
lem.4 Most candid scholars at present prefer the hypothesis that
the reports of the Lord's Discourse — which, it must be remem
bered, are translations of it into Greek, and in an abridged form
— are colored by a subjective anticipation of the disciples, the
result of their own thoughts and yearnings with regard to a point
left indefinite in the Lord's prophetic teaching, the design of which
was to afford glimpses of grand turning-points in the development
of his kingdom. " If Christ," says Neander, " pointed forward
to the great effective forces or steps involved in his coming in
the world's history, his victorious self-revelation, bringing in his
1 Vie de Jesus, i6me ed., p. xlix. The author of both works is "bien reelle-
ment Luc, disciple de Paul." Les Apdtres, p. xviii.
2 Les £vangiles (1877), p. 436, n. 2.
3 Irenaeus, Adv. Hcer.,\\\. I, I; Tertullian, Adv. Marc., iv. 2; cf. Ep. to
Philemon, ver. 24; Col. iv. 14; 2 Tim. iv. n. For further remarks on the
relation of Luke to the Gospel and the Acts, see Appendix, Note 12.
4 Matt. xxiv. 29, 34 ; Mark xiii. 19, 24, 30 ; Luke xxi. 32.
232 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
kingdom, he meant thereby in part his triumph in the fall of the
previous sensuous form of the theocracy, and in the more free
and mighty spread of this kingdom, to be secured by it, and in part
his last coming for the consummation of his kingdom. He had
in view the judgment of the degenerate theocracy, and that final
judgment, — the one being the first more free and mighty develop
ment of the kingdom of God, the other its final consummation ;
both being regarded by him as events corresponding one to the
other, — just as in general, in the great epochs in the world's
history, God reveals himself, sitting in judgment on a creation
ripe for its downfall, and calling a new creation into being. Of
this character are the critical and creative epochs of the world's
history, having relation one to another; while collectively they
prefigure that epoch when the judgment is completed, and with it
the creation of the divine kingdom. ... It is easy to understand
how it might happen that in apprehending and reproducing such
discourses of Jesus, from the standpoint of the hearers, the succes
sive epochs or stages which Christ exhibited in a certain corre
spondence with one another, and which, although he did not
designate measures of time, he kept more apart, should become
mingled with one another." Weiss is constrained to concede
such a dislocation in the case of Matt. xxiv. 35. It is generally
conceded, that in the Logia of Matthew there are clear examples
of a grouping together of utterances of Jesus on separate occa
sions. The Sermon on the Mount is an illustration. That the
synoptical reports of the Prophetic Discourse should exhibit
traces of the feeling, spontaneous in its origin, that the Return of
Christ was to be soon, is a plausible supposition. We cannot be
sure, from anything recorded in the Gospels, that Jesus spoke
explicitly of the fall of Jerusalem as a " coming " on his part.
But this term was used by him not always in reference to the
same event. In the fourteenth chapter of John, in the third
verse, it is held by both Meyer and Weiss that the " Coming " of
which Jesus speaks is the Parousia, while in the eighteenth verse,
the " Coming " of which mention is made is held by Meyer to
refer to the mission of the Comforter, or Paraclete, — by Weiss, to
the Resurrection ; and Weiss concedes that in the twenty-third
verse the " Coming " refers to the spiritual communion into which
he was to enter with the disciples. Here, then, in a single chap
ter of John, the " Coming " of Jesus is applied to three distinct
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 233
manifestations of himself. That a misconception of the meaning
of Christ on the subject was possible on the part of disciples
is shown by an example in John xxi. 23. That Jesus did not
foretell his advent to judgment as an event to follow immediately
upon the destruction of Jerusalem is shown by the parable of the
Marriage Feast, in Matt, xxii., and by the parable of the House
holder (Matt. xxi. 33-42), unless it is assumed that the reports of
these parables are here given in a later, expanded form. The
same conclusion is distinctly indicated in the parables of the
Mustard-seed and the Leaven, not to speak of other teaching of
like purport. The legislation in the Sermon on the Mount ap
pears to be in its tone inconsistent with the idea of a sudden and
speedy advent to judgment. Jesus is said to have declared
that he did not himself know when it would occur. " But of that
day and hour knovveth no one, not even the angels of heaven,
neither the Son, but the Father only " (Matt. xxiv. 36). Of course
it is possible to interpret " day and hour " with strict literalness.
Under this interpretation, the passage would prove nothing to our
purpose. But at another time, after the Resurrection, when he
was asked if he was at once to restore the kingdom to Israel, he
answered that the question related to a secret of the Almighty :
" It is not for you to know times or seasons, which the Father
hath set within his own authority" (Acts i. 7). They were to
carry their testimony, he added, " unto the uttermost part of the
earth." Here we see the eagerness of the disciples for the con
summation of the kingdom, side by side with the assurance of
Christ that the date when their hopes would be realized was an
unknown, unrevealed fact in the divine administration. At the
same time, it will not be questioned by the soundest interpreters,
that, had any considerable interval elapsed between the capture of
Jerusalem by the Romans in the year 70, and the composition
of the synoptical Gospels, other phraseology would have been used
by the Evangelists, or at least some explanation thrown in respecting
the chronological relation of that event to the advent to judgment.
We have, therefore, in the passages referred to, satisfactory evi
dence that the first three Gospels were in existence, if not before,
at least very soon after, A.D. 70. And the same reasoning proves
that they existed in their present form and compass. The es-
chatological discourse in Matthew, for example, is homogeneous in
style with the rest of the Gospel ; and. in any revision later than
234 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the date given above, these perplexing statements would not have
been left unaltered or unexplained.
Besides the eschatological discourse, there are many passages
in the first three Gospels, sayings and occurrences, which imply
the state of things which preceded the fall of Jerusalem and did
not exist afterward.1 The Gospels have a vocabulary — and in
this particular the fourth is included — which is characteristic of
them, as distinguished from the Epistles and the rest of the New
Testament. One example is the use in the Gospels of the term
" Son of man." xAnother example is the use of Christ, not as a
proper name, but as signifying the Messiah. The term " church,"
so frequent later in the New Testament, is found in the Gospels
only in two places in Matthew. Questions pertaining to Church
officers and ecclesiastical controversies and customs are wholly
absent from the Gospels. The atmosphere in these narratives is
quite different. It belongs to an earlier time.
The long and searching inquiry on the question of the origin and
mutual relations of the first three Gospels has not been without
substantial results. The great influence of an oral tradition which
shaped itself at Jerusalem, where the apostles remained for years,
and whose repetition of the Lord's sayings and acts would tend to
acquire a fixed form, is now generally acknowledged. The inde
pendence of Mark in relation to the other Evangelists is an assured
fact. The priority of Mark in respect to date of composition, if
not so unanimously accepted, is favored by a large body of learned
scholars. Leading English critics are disposed to claim for the
oral tradition a larger agency in accounting for the resemblances
of the Synoptists to one another than German critics consider it
possible to assume. Westcott favors the hypothesis that Matthew
wrote his Gospel in the Aramaic ; that the Aramaic oral tradition
which he took up had its contemporaneous parallel in a Greek
oral tradition ; that, about the time of the destruction of Jerusalem,
the Aramaic Gospel was not exactly rendered into Greek, but its
contents exchanged for the Greek oral counterpart ; that the dis
ciple who thus transferred the Aramaic first Gospel of Matthew
into Greek added here and there certain historical memoranda.
In this way he would account for the resemblances of the matter
contained in the Synoptists.2
1 For good remarks under this head see Sanday, Inspiration (Bampton
Lectures, 1893), p. 284 seq.
2 Westcott, Introduction to the Gospels, pp. 213, 214, 231 n.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 235
Weiss, in common with most critics of the German school, of
whom he is one of the most eminent, holds that the peculiarities
of the Synoptists cannot be explained by the influence of oral
tradition alone. We must assume an interdependence. His view
is, that the oldest Gospel was an Aramaic writing of Matthew,
composed mainly, but not exclusively, of discourses of Christ,
arranged in groups ; that this was rendered into Greek ; that,
immediately after the capture of Jerusalem by Titus, it was
amplified by historical matter, drawn mainly from Mark, — the
second Gospel having been previously written, as the ecclesiastical
tradition affirms, by the same Mark who had attended Barnabas
and Paul, and who afterward was a companion of Peter ; that the
third Gospel was composed by Luke, the companion of Paul, who,
in addition to other sources of information, written and oral, made
use of the oldest document, the writing of Matthew, and the nar
rative of Mark; that Luke's Gospel was composed not much later
than the " first decennium after A.D. 70." l
From the foregoing statements it will be seen how small, com
paratively, is the divergence of the different schools of judicious
critics, so far as their conclusions have a bearing on these essential
points connected with the historical evidences of Christianity.
The early formation, under the eyes and by the agency of the im
mediate disciples of Jesus, of an oral narrative of his sayings and
of the events of his life ; its wide diffusion ; its incorporation into
the second Gospel, prior to the destruction of Jerusalem, by an
author who had listened to Peter ; the authorship of the basis, at
least, of the first Gospel by the Apostle Matthew ; the completion
of the first Gospel in its present compass not far from the date of the
fall of the city and the consequent dispersion of the Christians,
who fled at the coming of the Romans ; the composition of Luke
by a Christian writer who had access to immediate testimony, as
well as to writings in which this testimony had been set down
by disciples situated like himself, — these are facts which erudite
and candid scholars, both German and English, whose researches
entitle them to speak with confidence, unite in affirming.
A few words may be said upon the integrity of the Gospels.
The guarantee of this is the essential agreement of the existing
manuscripts, which would not be possible had the early texts been
1 Weiss, I.eben Jesu, B. i. 24-84. Weiss thinks also that some traces of the
primitive Matthew appear in Mark.
236 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
tampered with. Renan speaks of the little authority which the
texts of the Gospels had for about a " hundred years " ; in his first
edition he wrote " a hundred and fifty." " They had no scruple,"
he adds, " about inserting in them paragraphs combining the nar
ratives diversely, or completing some by others. The poor man
who has but one book wishes it to contain everything that comes
home to his heart. They lent these little rolls to one another.
Every one transcribed on the margin of his copy the words, the
parables, which he found elsewhere, and which moved him."1
There is a foundation for these statements, but they are exagger
ated. There is no proof that the Gospels were treated with this
degree of license. Had they been so treated, the differences con
sequent must have perpetuated themselves in the copies derived
from the early texts. With regard to Kenan's solitary example of
an insertion of any length, — John viii. i-i i (he might have added
one more, Mark xvi. 9-20), — these passages are doubted, or re
jected from the text, by scholars, mainly on this very ground of
a lack of manuscript attestation. No doubt, here and there mar
ginal annotations, made for liturgical purposes, or from some other
innocent motive, have crept into the text. The close of the Lord's
Prayer (Matt. vi. 13) — " For thine is the kingdom," etc. — is such
an addition. In the second century the diversities in the copies
of the canonical Gospels were considerable.2 It is the business
of textual criticism to ascertain what readings are to be preferred.
The statement that the early Christians felt no interest whatever
in keeping the text of the Gospels intact is unfounded.3
1 Vie de Jesus, 1 3th ed., p. iv.
2 See Westcott's History of 'the Canon of the New Testament, p. 149 seq.
3 Other statements, in the same connection, have even less foundation.
"They attached little importance," says Renan, "to these writings," — Gos
pels; "and the collectors (conservateurs), such as Papias, in the first half
of the second century, still preferred to them the oral tradition." On the con
trary, the work of Papias was itself a commentary on the Gospels, or on
portions of them. In his remarks about his esteem of oral tradition, he is not
comparing the Gospels with other sources of information, but probably refers
to anecdotes respecting them and their authors which he interwove in his
comments, and which he preferred to derive from oral sources. See Eusebius,
H. £., iii. 39. Kenan's reference to Irenseus (Adv. PI<zr., iii. cc. 2, 3) proves
nothing to the purpose. It contains no hint of a preference of tradition to
the Gospels. Renan further says, " Besides the Gospels that have reached
us, there were others " — in his first edition he wrote " a multitude of others "
— "pretending equally to represent the tradition of eye-witnesses." How
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORtf 237
NOTE
The question of the authorship of the third Gospel is involved in
that of the authorship of the book of Acts. Moreover, so much is
said at present respecting the authorship of the Acts and the cred
ibility of its contents, that, on this account also, these topics deserve
special notice. The unvarying tradition of the Church ascribes
both books to Luke — the same Luke whom the apostle Paul
styles as one of his fellow-laborers,1 and refers to as the beloved
physician,2 and who is spoken of in the Second Epistle to Timothy
as the only companion of the apostle at the time this Epistle was
written. It has already been remarked, that no interpretation of
the " we passages " in the Acts is probable which does not regard
them as a record of personal observations of the author of the
book.
The principal basis of the impeachment of the genuineness of
the Acts is the alleged improbability of a portion of its historic
contents. The theory that the book was composed late with the
intent to pacify the contention of Petrine and Pauline factions
in the early Church is so nearly obsolete, the existence of such
a rupture and antagonism being itself a fiction, that a bare allusion
to it is all that is required at present. Whatever similarity is found
in the acts and fortunes which the narrative assigns severally to
the two apostles, it is only what might be expected if they were
both active in the same work in different fields, — which, as the
apostle Paul himself states, was the fact.3 If the author of the
Acts felt an interest in this parallelism, or even if he selected
events illustrating it, the resemblance is naturally accounted for.
None of the histories in the New Testament has called out in a
greater degree than the Acts the criticism inspired by suspicion,
which, as Lightfoot has said, is not more sensible when applied to
historical writers than when applied to one's neighbors. The
omission to set down incidents of which we are informed else-
little warrant there is for this statement respecting apocryphal Gospels, and
how erroneous is the impression which it conveys, have been shown in preced
ing pages of this chapter. The " many" writings to whom Luke refers in his
prologue were soon superseded, and passed away. There is no proof that any
one of them had a wide circulation. There were left no competitors with the
Gospels of the canon, and none arose.
1 Philemon, vs. 24. 2 Col. iv. 14; 2 Tim. iv. u. 3 Gal. ii. 7,8.
238 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
where — the precarious argument from silence — has been made
the basis of quite unwarranted inferences in dealing with this book.
Whatever may be true as to alleged inaccuracies in Luke's narra
tive, archaeology, in numerous instances, confirms its correctness
in a striking way. Lightfoot, who is not inclined to exaggerate,
says of the Acts of the Apostles, " In the multiplicity and variety of
its details it probably affords greater means of testing its general
character for truth than any other ancient narrative in existence ;
and in my opinion it satisfies the tests fully."1 Much has been said
of certain discrepancies which are said to exist between the Acts
and the Pauline Epistles. This implies what, aside from this alle
gation, is obviously true, that the narrative is not framed on the
basis of the Epistles, but quite independently. The Hora Paulines
of Paley, the most original of his apologetic works, presents, in a
convincing way, undesigned coincidences which verify statements
in the Acts, and so far the trustworthiness of the author. As
regards accuracy, the distinction must be kept in mind between
the earlier portion of the book and the later portions. For the
earlier chapters the sources of information, although they included
written statements, were indirect and in part oral, so that a less
degree of precision here and there might be expected. Light-
foot's observation is especially true of the later chapters. Of the
difference between these and the earlier, Professor Ramsay ob
serves : —
" In the later chapters there are few sentences that do not afford some
test of their accuracy by mentioning external facts of life, history, and
antiquities. But the earlier chapters contain comparatively few such
details.2 The author had means of knowing the later events with perfect
accuracy (so far as perfection can be attained in history), but the means
which helped him there, and the scene and surroundings, were to him
strange and remote." 3 " We discern the same guiding hand and mind,
the same clear historical insight seizing the great and critical steps ; but
the description of the primitive church wants precision in the outline
and color in the details."4 "Luke was dependent here on informal
narratives and on oral traditions.1'
Of the first chapters in the Acts, a most competent American scholar,
1 Apt illustrations follow this statement, Dissertations on the Apostolic Age,
p. 105; St. Paul and the Three.
2 St. Paul, the Traveller and the Roman Citizen, p. 19.
8 Ibid., p. 367. 4 Ibid., p. 370.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 239
the late Professor J. Henry Thayer, remarks: u The writer is honestly
endeavoring to record facts and truths,'1 according to the information he
had received. " On any sensible view the discrepancies are of no great
account except as evidence of independence, and of substantial trust
worthiness."1
There are characteristics of style in Luke that should be taken into
account, which, however, must not be confounded with important
— much less intentional — error. An occasional hyperbole is not
a serious offence in an author. An instance is the reference, in
words ascribed to James, to the tens of thousands — " myriads "
— of Jewish believers present at Jerusalem (Acts xxi. 20). An
other example is the statement relative to the giving up of private
ownership, as if it were universal (Acts iv. 32, 34), — a statement
which subsequent passages in the Acts incidentally restrict (e.g.
Acts xii. 12). The author's pen was not that of a statistician.
There are not wanting, however, cases where the narrative is
made graphic by explanatory details woven into it. Thus (in
Acts iv. 15, 1 6) we read that the Jewish rulers, after having
arraigned Peter and John, put their heads together, as a present-
day writer might say, and agreed that a miracle had without
doubt been wrought, and that, as they could not deny it, they
could do nothing but silence the apostles with threats. A confer
ence, such as their proceeding was conceived to imply, is intro
duced, as if it were an ascertained fact (Acts iv. 15-17). So it
may have been ; yet it may be an inference due to Luke's inform
ants, which it would have been more accurate in them to state
less positively, as a probable supposition. In the account of the
speaking with tongues (Acts ii.), the amazed people connect with
the question " How hear we in our own language " an enumera
tion of all the many regions from which they had come. This is
an expanded paraphrase of exclamations of the excited throng.
Our confidence in Luke is confirmed by his insertion of the same
event with variations of detail. He felt bound no more than any
other author to bind himself to an identity in phraseology. But
it is necessary in certain instances to presuppose a difference of
sources. Luke takes no pains to harmonize the details. The
most striking instance is the three accounts of the conversion of
the apostle Paul (Acts xx., xxii., xxvi.). Here the apostle's own
account addressed to Agrippa (ch. xxvi.) is to be regarded, of
1 From The Congregationalism July 6, 1901,
240 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
course, as of primary value. The extended speeches in the Acts
are generally, as concerns their phraseology, a composition of the
author. The ancient writers, as all scholars know, were in the
habit of throwing into the direct form — the oratio recta — or
the form of quotation, what a modern writer presents in form, as
well as in fact, in his own language.1 They are, doubtless,
in some instances abbreviated, or given for substance merely.
Yet there is no reason to regard them with distrust; on the
contrary, they often have an obvious verisimilitude which speaks
for the fidelity of the report. This is eminently true, to men
tion one instance, of the discourse of Paul at Athens. Much
has been made of a supposed anachronism in the speech
attributed to Gamaliel (Acts v. 34 seq.). He is represented to
have appealed to the example (among others) of the abortive
sedition of Theudas, which, if Josephus is right, occurred later
than the date of Gamaliel's speech. On this passage Neander
says : —
" It is very possible that at different times two persons named
Theudas raised a sedition among the Jews, as the name was by no
means uncommon. ... It is also possible that Luke, in the relation
of the event which he had before him, found the example of Theudas
adduced as something analogous, or that one name has happened to be
substituted for another. In either case it is of little importance.1" 2
Neander's comment illustrates the spirit of sound historical criti
cism. It is in sharp contrast with the superficial habit of not a
few critics, whose method, if followed, would discredit most his
torical writings.
The idea (in Acts ii.) of what the speaking with tongues in the
churches was, is said to be a misinterpretation which could not
have been entertained by a companion of the apostle Paul. Ac
cording to the apostle it was the excited utterance of inarticulate
sounds which only those made competent by a gift of the Spirit
could interpret.3 But in the Acts, the speaking with tongues at
Pentecost is represented as speaking in foreign languages. But
a mistake respecting the nature of the phenomenon as it appeared
1 A special, instructive discussion, by Tholuck, of the speeches of Paul in
the Acts is .in the Stud. u. Kritik., (1839, II.).
2 Neander, Planting and Training of the Church (ed. Robinson), p. 46.
1 1 Corinthians xii. 10 seq., xiv. I seq.
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 241
in the apostolic churches would be as difficult to account for,
were it made by any other to whom the book of Acts could rea
sonably be ascribed as by its reputed author. By some of the
exegetes the passage is understood to signify that the miracle
consisted not in speaking but in the hearing — which is the term
used in the text. Wendt, who adopts this view, suggests that the
utterances were probably distinct from any existing language, and
yet such as to open the way for the miraculous comprehension
of their import.1 Perhaps the account in Luke was current as
a popular tradition. Professor Thayer takes this view.2 "The
writer " [Luke], he says, " is honestly endeavoring to record
facts and truths. Even when he obviously labors under misappre
hension, as in the case of the gift of tongues (ii. 5 seq.)t he gives the
story as he doubtless received it (compare Mark xvi. 17) without
attempting to remove its obvious incongruities," etc. Professor
Ramsay also writes of Acts ii. 5-11, that a " popular tale seems to
obtrude itself. In these verses, the power of speaking with tongues
... is taken in the sense of speaking in many languages. Here
again we observe the distorting influence of popular fancy." 3
The principal allegation adverse to the trustworthiness, and so
to the accepted view, of the genuineness, of the Acts is that of
an inconsistency of the account of the apostolic conference
or council (in Acts xv.) with the apostle Paul's own statement
(in Gal. ii.) as to his relations to the other apostles and to the
Jewish Christians generally. Paul, in this place, relates only a
private interview, but his language implies that there was, besides,
a public conference. There is no contradiction here. That the
three apostles, Peter, James, and John, after hearing him describe
his evangelic work and its fruits, gave him the right hand of fellow
ship and bade him God-speed in his mission to the Gentiles he
emphatically asserts. Nor is there any inconsistency between his
statement that they " added " or " imparted " nothing to him —
that is, in the way of supplement or criticism — and the prescrip
tions which were sent, according to Acts xv., to the Gentile
churches in the neighboring region. The one thing insisted upon
by Paul, that the Gentile believers should not be required to be
1 Wendt, Apostelgeschichte, ad loc. That there was a speaking of foreign
languages is not confirmed by the phraseology in Acts x. 47, xi. 15, 17, xix. 6,
2 As cited above.
3 St. Paul, the Traveller and the Roman Citizen, p. 370.
R
242 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
circumcised, was settled according to his mind. This was the
question respecting which the conference was held. The require
ments or requests which were sent forth contained nothing at
variance with any teaching of the apostle Paul concerning what
was right and proper to be done or to be left undone by Gentile
converts who lived in the midst of Jewish believers. It was a
modus vivendi for the two classes of Christians, a provision for
securing cordial recognition as fellow-Christians from those who
kept up the observances of the Mosaic laws — observances, so far
as born Jews were concerned, which the apostle Paul counte
nanced. It was understood that Peter's special mission was to be
to the Jews — to " the circumcision " — and Paul's to the Gentiles.
At a later day, when Paul had planted the Gospel far beyond the
limits of " Syria and Cilicia," and was giving counsel to churches
principally made up of Gentiles, his omission to make formal
reference to the letter of the council or to consider it, under the
circumstances, applicable, requires no explanation or defence.
Yet the counsel which he gave, even then, was substantially in
accord with its terms. In making his collection for the poor at
Jerusalem he made no reference in his Epistles to the agreement
which he had made with the other apostles to do so. It was still
quite possible that James should continue to regard the letter as
denning what was to be generally expected of the Gentiles (Acts
xxi. 25). The fault which the apostle Paul found with Peter at
Antioch was not that Peter differed from him in principle, but
that he was unfaithful to his own convictions, and by departing
from the liberal course which he had before pursued was likely to
make a misleading impression on the Gentile believers. The idea
of some critics that Paul at Antioch had converted Peter to his
own liberal view, and that, therefore, the entire narrative (in
Acts x. i seq.) of the connection of Peter with Cornelius is
unhistorical, has no foundation. Such a transaction as that de
scribed in Acts x. i seq. enables us to explain Peter's preparation
of mind for the catholic course taken by him subsequently. The
imagined "enlightenment" of Peter by persuasions of Paul at
Antioch is without a grain of historic evidence to rest upon. If
the events described in the story of Peter and Cornelius, of which
we are furnished with so detailed an account, are discredited, it is
a remarkable instance of the "lie circumstantial." As to the
demand then made at Antioch by zealous Jewish Christians from
THE GOSPELS AN AUTHENTIC RECORD 243
Jerusalem, — whether or not they were in accord with a feeling of
James we cannot be sure, — it did not clash with the concessions
which James had made at the council, for these did not touch on
the question whether Jewish believers should go so far in fraterniz
ing with the Gentiles as to disregard the traditional prohibitions
to eat with the uncircumcised, even though they were acknowl
edged as Christian brethren and were even loved as such. If the
apostle Paul was disposed to take a broader view of the spirit
of the Jerusalem missive, it was a difference of interpretation
which might naturally arise between two men so unlike in their
natural qualities. The refusal of Paul to circumcise Titus has
been made an argument to disprove the historical truth of the
account in Acts of the circumcision of Timothy (Acts xvi. 1-4).
It is said that Paul would not have done at one time what he
absolutely refused to do at another. But why did he refuse to
circumcise Titus ? First, because he was a heathen by birth, and
secondly, because his circumcision was demanded on doctrinal
grounds, so that to yield would have been to give up at once the
rights of the Gentiles and the truth of justification by faith. But
Timothy was the son of a Jewish mother, and " all knew that his
father was a Greek," and he was circumcised for a totally different
reason from that for which the circumcision of Titus was demanded.
Timothy was circumcised out of respect to unconverted Jews, not
converted judaizers. His circumcision neither imperilled the free
dom of the Gentiles, nor conflicted with the doctrine of justification.
In this act Paul simply made himself " a Jew unto the Jew."
That is, he followed his maxim of making himself all things to all
men — so far as no principle was violated.1 The circumcision of
Timothy as truly illustrates the principles of Paul as the circum
cision of Titus would have contradicted them.
The substantial correctness of the narrative of the action
of the Jerusalem conference as it is given in the Acts is placed
beyond reasonable doubt by one consideration. From what is
known of James and is conceded by critics of every school, we
may be sure that he could not have been satisfied with less in
the way of concession on the part of the Gentile converts than the
result of the conference called for. It is equally certain that the
apostle Paul would never have consented to the requirement of
more. And we know from Paul's own lips that the two apostles
1 I Cor. ix. 20 seq.
244 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
joined hands in fraternal fellowship. In connection with the
Jerusalem conference there are debated questions of chronology,
but these are of minor importance. Enough that nothing can be
shown to affect the general credibility of the Acts or the view as
to its authorship which was entertained in the Church from the
beginning.1
1 The truth of the account given of the council in Acts is urgently main
tained by critics who are least of all open to the suspicion of an apologetic
bias. Such are Keim, Aus dem UrchristentJmm, pp. 64-89, Mangold, in Man-
gold-Bleek, Einl. in d. N. 7\, p. 300 n. Even Weizsacker, who makes
much of what he regards as difficulties in Luke's narrative, concedes the his
torical fact of the decree as its contents are given by him. See Das Aposto-
lisches Zeitalter, p. 179. For remarks which evince here a sound historical
perception, see Wendt in Meyer- Wendt, Apostelgeschichte, ad. c. xv.
CHAPTER XI
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL
IT is plain to every observant reader that the fourth Gospel has
certain marked points of unlikeness to the first three. This fact
is the occasion of the controversy as to its apostolic origin. The
reasons assigned for doubt or explicit denial on this point are en
titled to candid attention. Not to prejudice the case, it is yet
right to remind the reader that the situation is one where the
weapon of the assailant is liable to be turned against himself. For
the greater the contrast between this Gospel and the other three,
the more serious, perhaps — if the Gospel be not genuine — may
be the task of accounting both for the creation of such a narrative
and for the acceptance of its authority in the place and at the period
of its origin, and by the churches, far and wide, in the Roman Em
pire. Moreover, it is conceivable that this evident contrast should
be more than balanced by deeper, even if less obvious features of
resemblance.
The ordinary belief respecting the apostle John has been derived,
first, from the Synoptic Gospels, secondly, from the contents of the
fourth Gospel, and thirdly, from the ancient ecclesiastical writings.
From these sources it is ascertained that the father of the apostle, if not
wealthy, was possessed of a competence, and in his occupation, which
was that of a fisherman, employed hired laborers. His home was by
the Sea of Galilee, a sheet of water which was girded by a circle of
prosperous cities.1 The adjacent region was peopled by a dense popu
lation, spirited and thriving, mostly made up of Jews. But it was
covered by a network of roads, and was traversed by the great commer
cial route from Damascus to the Mediterranean, which passed into
Phoenicia, a land " half Greek,11 the busy centre of manufactures and
trade. Galilee could be no stranger to Graeco-Roman traits and ways
1 An excellent description of Galilee is given by Professor G. A. Smith, His
torical Geography of Palestine, See, also. S Merrill, in Hastings's Dictionary
of the Bible, art. "Galilee, Sea of"; and, by the same author, Galilee in the
Time of CJirist.
245
246 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
that overspread the lands on the east and westward to the seacoast.
John had the nurture which Jewish youth usually received in a religious
household and from schools connected with the synagogues. His spirit
is indicated by his presence on the banks of the Jordan, a devout listener
to the preaching of John the Baptist. Introduced there to Jesus, and
called afterward to be his permanent follower, he appears in the Synop
tics as one of the three most prominent apostles, a leadership which, St.
Paul informs us, he retained later, when James, the brother of the Lord,
had taken the place of one of them. He is depicted in the earlier
period as being of a temperament fervid, even to the point of vehe
mence, yet with another, but not at all incongruous, phase of character,
a sensibility and a gentleness which especially endeared him to Jesus.
After the death of the Master he is seen standing with Peter before the
Sanhedrim, both speaking with a fearless confidence that excited wonder
in this tribunal. By them the two apostles are stigmatized as an "un
learned and ignorant couple," — by which is not meant that they are
plebeians or weak-minded, but that they are not possessed of the learn
ing of the rabbis — much as a body of official clergy might look down
upon a brace of laymen not versed in the lore of the schools, yet as
suming to instruct their superiors. The second period in the career of
the apostle John begins under circumstances greatly altered. The
Jewish nation is prostrated by the Roman conquest. The temple is in
ruins. The apostle has found a home in the heart of a Gentile commu
nity, in an atmosphere where Christian disciples are more or less affected
by Hellenistic influences. He is the venerated guide of a group of
churches differing in some of their characteristics from Christian socie
ties of a predominantly Jewish cast. Here, in the closing decades of
his life, as the century draws to its end, it falls to his lot to commu
nicate, orally and in writings, the facts in the life of Jesus of most interest
to himself and of most profit to his disciples, and to set forth that por
tion of the teaching of Jesus which lay nearest his own heart.
Down to a comparatively recent date the apostolic authorship
of the fourth Gospel had been virtually undisputed. The soli
tary exception of a handful of dissentients in the ancient period
was in a form and under circumstances which deprive it of the
slightest weight as an historical testimony. This is perceived by
noteworthy scholars, such as Zeller, notwithstanding that they
themselves hold the same negative opinion. This Gospel has
been prized by the most gifted minds in the Christian Church
as the pearl of the Evangelic histories. An early Father, Clement
of Alexandria, in whom genius was united with wide and varied
learning, characterized it as "the spiritual Gospel" that followed
after the other three, which had dealt more with the external
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 247
aspects of the life of Jesus. By none has this estimate been more
emphatically reechoed than by Luther, who pronounced it the
unique, tender, preeminent Gospel, far excelling the other three.1
The genuineness of the fourth Gospel was called in question by
one or more of the later English Deists, and occasionally about
a century ago, on the continent, by individuals of little account.
More stir was made in 1820 by the publication of Bretschneider,
a more prominent theologian of the rationalistic type, who after
wards partially disavowed his opinion. With the rise of the Tu
bingen School of critics, near the middle of the century just
closed, the polemic against the generally accepted view of the
authorship of the Gospel began to be waged with a much larger
outlay of learning and ingenuity. The shock occasioned by the
advocacy, in different quarters, of the anti-Johannean view is liable
unquestionably to give to the defence of the ordinary conserva
tive view an apologetic bias. On the other hand, certainly the
earlier pioneers of the negative opinion, and the later, includ
ing Strauss and Baur, are properly classified under the head of
Rationalists, in the usual acceptation of the term, with whom
there is, to say the least, a natural and surely an equally unscien
tific prepossession adverse to an opinion which, if sound, affixes
to the testimony in this Gospel respecting facts and doctrine the
seal of an apostolic witness of the first rank.
The rejection of the Johannean authorship, so far as we need to
notice it here, began with the essay of Baur in 1844^ His idea of
the fourth Gospel was part and parcel of his theory of the philos
ophy of history in general, and of the evolution of Christianity in
particular. Christianity was held to be a development on the
plane of nature, which passed through successive stages, matching
the abstract scheme of the Hegelian logic. Baur's theory con
cerning the Gospel is at least definite and intelligible. He did
not wage, as many do, a guerilla warfare on received opinions.
His view is that the book is an idealized history, a mixture of fact
and fiction. The author was at once devout and speculative. He
1 " . . . ist Johannis Evangelium das einzige, zarte, recht Hauptevangelium,
und den anderen dreien weit, weit vorzuziehen und holier zu heben." It has,
adds Luther, fewer events and more preaching (predigt). Luther's Vorrede
N. T., ed. 1545.
'2 In Zeller's Jbb,, 1844, vol. i. pp. 2, 3 ; Kritisch. Untersuch. itb. d. kanonisch.
Evaiigg., 1847.
248 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
was a Gnostic who cherished a certain conception of the Logos or
Word, believed in the identity of the Logos with the historic Jesus,
and aimed to exhibit this identity in a fictitious narrative of a
symbolic character. The book then is a theological romance com
posed for this end, and at the same time to bring together diverg
ing theological parties.
The historic material, much of which is in the main a creation of the
author, presents in the concrete his idea of the Logos. The distinction
made between "light" and "darkness" becomes in the Gospel a bald
dualism. The principle of darkness is embodied in the Jews, and the
development of their unbelief is made to keep pace with the progressive
manifestation of Christ, or of the Logos in Christ, which provokes it.
External events, especially miracles, are merely a sensuous counterpart
or mirror of uthe idea'1 — a kind of staging set up by the author to be
forthwith pulled down. One design, we are told, is to show the nullity
of a faith which is produced by miracles. They are introduced into the
Gospel as a crutch brought in for the sake of being cast aside.
On this theory, how shall we conceive of the mental state of the
Evangelist ? We are assured that he is sincere ; that in imagination
he identifies himself with the apostle John; that so far as doctrine is
concerned, he writes as he feels that John would write were he alive.
In short, he is absorbed in a series of pictorial views (Anschauungen
und Bilder) of the grandest and most significant character. In the
course of his work on this Gospel, Baur not infrequently intimates that
the author in his own consciousness well-nigh confounds fancy with
fact. He loses himself, as it were, in the symbols of his own creation.
He is in a kind of waking dream. The artistic product took on the as
pect of reality, so spontaneously did it grow out of the idea, its living
germ. Fancy Bunyan to have been so far carried away in composing
the allegory of Pilgrinfs Progress that his tale affected him as if it were
actual history. Something like this state of mind is seriously attrib
uted by Baur to the author of the fourth Gospel. In this way the con
clusion that the work is a fruit of wilful imposture was escaped. Baur
was constrained to date the Gospel as late as 160 or 170. Otherwise
leaps would be requisite in the room of a continuous progress of his
toric development. He had great capacity as a critic, but he was under
the sway of a theological bias. Hence his fabric as a whole, notwith
standing much that was admirable in parts, was built upon the sand.
The main postulate of his system is practically without adherents.
Neither John nor Peter was a judaizer. Neither demanded that Gen
tile converts should be circumcised. There was no such cleft in the
Church, no such warfare of parties, as Baur assumed to exist. There
was no rupture to call for a series of doctrinal efforts at compromise
such as were said to have been the motive of several of the New Tes-
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 249
lament writings. The proposition that the primitive type of Christian
ity was Ebionitic is an historical mistake.
At present so late a date as Baur assigned for the composition
of the fourth Gospel meets with no favor. Among the critics who
do not accept the Johannean authorship there has been a pretty
steady retreat from one historic decade to another. Zeller fixed
the date at 150, Hilgenfeld at 140, Keim at 130, Renan and
Schenkel from no to 115. Lightfoot's prediction that the time
would come when it would be deemed discreditable in any critic
" to assign the Gospel to any later date than the end of the first
century or the very beginning of the second" is well-nigh fulfilled.
"Between 95 and 115," is the conjecture of Moffatt.1 Professor
McGiffert holds that the Gospel, in case it was not written by the
apostle, must be pushed " back as far as the early years " of the
second century.2 Harnack, who has few peers in ability and
learning, puts it as far back as from 80 to no. But this recession
must be admitted to carry in it the danger of shipwreck for the
theory of non-apostolic authorship in all its phases. Either of the
new dates brings the time of composition into perilous nearness to
the living apostle himself, unless we reject ancient and well-
accredited tradition that he lived down to the reign of Trajan
(A.D. 98). Keim met the exigency thus arising by casting overboard
the universal tradition of the abode of the apostle at Ephesus.
This intrepid scepticism was withstood by Hilgenfeld and other
representatives of the Tubingen criticism, and among others, by
one of the ablest of the advocates of the non-apostolic authorship,
Weizsacker. A chief point in the Tubingen scepticism had been
the belief that the Apocalypse is genuine, and is incompatible with
the Johannean authorship of the Gospel. This school was not
disposed to surrender its conviction that the apostle lived and
taught in Asia Minor.
In the ensuing pages notice will be frequently taken of opinions
of Baur on the Johannean question, for the reason that, notwith
standing a prevalent dissent from so much that he contended for,
his special judgments and interpretations frequently reappear in
critical discussions.3
1 Historical IV. T., p. 495. 2 Apostolic Age, p. 614.
3 Jiilicher, one of the more extreme of the recent German critics, calls the
fourth Gospel "a philosophical fiction" (" eine philosophische Dichtung").
Einl. in d. N. 7'., p. 258.
250 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
As regards the use of the Gospel by particular writers in the
second century, if students would remember how scanty often are
the early references to ancient classical writers of celebrity, they
would be less sceptical and less exacting in relation to the princi
pal New Testament writings, and would be more impressed by the
strength of the attestation furnished us of their genuineness. Ap-
pian, a very eminent man, published his Roman History about
A.D. 150. The first reference to it in literature is in the sixth
century. 1 Keim conceded that the fourth Gospel was among the
gospels known to Marcion, that Justin Martyr has quotations from
it, that it antedated the Epistle of Barnabas and the Ignatian
epistles, and that its use is manifest in the extant literature of the
Church as early as the use of the first three Gospels.2 Mangold
went almost as far. He candidly avowed that there is no defect
in the external evidence.3 In the brief survey of the evidence
which is to follow, it will be taken for granted that the Gospel and
the first Epistle are from the same pen. Baur and Hilgenfeld
maintained the negative ; but the dissent of these critics from one
another on the question, which was the prior work and which the
later, is an argument for the identity of authorship, — an opinion
which is supported as well by convincing internal evidence as by
the uniform tradition.
We begin with a notice of the early historic testimonies. Euse-
bius, in the first quarter of the fourth century, having in his hands
much of the earliest Christian literature which has perished in the
shipwreck that befell ancient writings, knew of no dispute respect
ing the origin of this Gospel. It stands on his list of Homolo-
goumena — New Testament books universally accepted.4 It is in
the Ancient Syriac version, and in the Old Latin version of North
Africa — documents not later than the end of the second century.
Origen, one of the most erudite of scholars, whose birth (from
Christian parents) took place within the limits of the second cen
tury (in 185), counts it among the Gospels "not disputed in the
church under the whole heaven."5 Clement of Alexandria, in
consonance with Irenseus, his contemporary, relates what he had
heard from the oldest presbyters. John, he says, wrote a " spir-
1 White, Translation of ' Appian, Preface, p. 3.
2 Geschichte Jesn, i. 137.
3 Mangold-Bleek, Einl. in d. N. T. (ed. 3), p. 281, n.
4 H. £., vi. 25. 5 Eusebius, H. £., vi. 25.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 251
itual Gospel," being prompted thereto by his friends and impelled
by the Spirit.1 The Muratorian Fragment gives with more detail
a tradition of like purport. The apostle had been exhorted to
write, it tells us, by his fellow-disciples and bishops. In Justin
Martyr we find passages which it is in the highest degree probable
that he found in this Gospel. From no other authority could he
have derived his doctrine of the person of Christ.2 It formed
one of the four Gospels amalgamated in the Diatessaron of Tatian,
who was Justin's pupil.3 Theophilus, a contemporary of Tatian,
who became Bishop of Antioch, A.D. 169, describes the fourth
Gospel as one of the Holy Scriptures, and John as guided by the
Holy Spirit.4 He wrote a commentary on the Gospels, and in a
way combined the four in a single work.5 Athenagoras, a con
temporary of Theophilus, speaks of Christ in terms which are
obviously founded on passages in this Gospel.6 Melito, Bishop
of Sardis, a contemporary of Polycarp and of Papias, referred to
the ministry of Jesus as lasting for three years — a fact for which
his authority could hardly have been any other than the fourth
Gospel.7 Another contemporary, Apollinaris, Bishop of Hierapolis,
indirectly but manifestly implies its existence and authority.8
Celsus, the most noted of the literary opponents of Christianity in
the second century, resorted to the fourth Gospel, as well as to
the first three, to get materials for his polemic.9 There is some
1 Eusebius, //. E., vi. 14.
2 See this work, p. 214. Professor Ezra Abbot, in his Essay on The
Authorship of the Fourth Gospel {Critical Essays, pp. 9-107), comes as near
to a demonstration of its use by Justin as the nature of this species of evidence
permits. See pp. 22 seg., 63 seg., with the notes. He shows that the inac
curacy in Justin's quotation of John iii. 3 occurs, e.g., repeatedly in Jeremy
Taylor.
3 Ibid.,Tp. 54 seq. "Justin, his [Papias's] younger contemporary . . . em
ploys our four Gospels as directly or indirectly apostolic. Occasionally he
takes up an uncanonical tradition. . . . The fragment of the Gospel of Peter
(100-130 A.D.) dispelled all theories which made this the source of Justin's
quotations, and identified it with his Memoirs of Peter (i.e. Mark). . . . Cas-
cara's publication forever settled all questions as to which four had been thus
employed, and showed their relative standing." B. W. Bacon, An Introduc
tion to the A7. 7'., pp. 45, 46.
4 Ad Autolicum, ii. 22. 6 Hieron., De Viris illustr., 25 ; Epp., 151
6 Suppl. pro Christanis, c. 10.
7 See Otto's Corpus Apol., t. ix. p. 416.
8 Chron. Pasch., pp. 13, 14. 9 See above, p. 226.
252 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
reason to think that it was used by Hernias ;l and perhaps some
traces, though less distinct, of its use are in the Epistle ascribed
to Barnabas.2 Polycarp, in addition to the proof of his use of the
Gospel, which is to be inferred from what we learn of him from
Irenseus, inserts into his own short Epistle to the Philippians a
passage which is found in no other book but the first Epistle of
John.3 As to Papias, there is not the least evidence to disprove
his acquaintance with the fourth Gospel ; for the silence of Euse-
bius on this topic affords not the faintest presumption that Papias
made no mention of it.4 But Eusebius does expressly state that
Papias used the first Epistle of John,5 which is evidently from the
same author as the Gospel 6 — this Epistle being one of the Catholic
Epistles the use of which by the early writers was a point which Euse
bius was interested to record.7 The testimony of Irenseus has already
been adduced. He cites from " elders," venerated persons, the
contemporaries of Papias, an interpretation of the words of Christ
in John xiv. 2, and attributes to these worthies an idea relative to
the length of the Saviour's ministry, which was suggested by a
misinterpretation of John viii. 57.® These testimonies traverse
the century. They carry us back to the lifetime of contempo
raries and disciples of John. Finally, appended to the Gospel
itself is the endorsement, which comes from those into whose
hands it was first given (John xxi. 24), and which without doubt
1 SimiL, ix. 12; cf. John x. 7, 9, xix. 6 ; Mand., xii. 3 ; cf. I John v. 3.
The argument of Dr. C. Taylor, Witness to the Four Gospels (1892), is not
void of weight.
2 Keim takes the affirmative ; but see Luthardt, p. 76 ; Sanday, Gospels in
the Second Century, pp. 270—273 ; Cunningham, Dissert, on the Ep. of Barna
bas, etc., p. 60.
3 Ad Phil., 5.
4 See Lightfoot, Essays on Supernatural Religion, p. 32 seq. The chapter
of Lightfoot on "The Silence of Eusebius" sweeps away numerous false
inferences, which are current, of a piece with that concerning Papias.
5 Eusebius, //. E., iii. 39.
6 " No two works in the whole range of literature show clearer signs of
the genius of one writer, and no other pair of works are so completely in a
class by themselves, apart from the work of their own and of every other
time." Ramsay, The Church in the Roman Empire,^. 302.
7 The Didache (cc. ix. x.) contains passages of a Johannine cast, prob
ably based on the Gospel. The special arguments of Resch are deserving of
attention. See Appendix, Note 13.
8 Adv. Hccr., v. 36, 2, ii. 22, 5.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 253
refers to John the apostle. There is no pretence that it was
forged.
We have still to glance at the evidence afforded by the parties
without the pale of the Church. Tertullian distinctly implies that
Marcion (A.D. 140) was acquainted with John's Gospel, but dis
carded it because he would acknowledge no other of the apostles
than Paul.1 We have little direct information respecting the canon
of the Montanists, but unquestionably their doctrine sprang partly
from what they read of the Paraclete in the fourth Gospel. The
Basilidians and the Valentinians, gnostic sects which arose in the
second quarter of the second century, made use of it ; the Valen
tinians, Irenaeus tells us, made abundant use of it. They sought to
bolster up their opinions by a misinterpretation of its contents.2
Heracleon, a follower of Valentinus, wrote a commentary upon it,
from which Origen quotes largely.3 Tertullian explicitly says that
Valentinus himself used all of the four Gospels.4 Irenaeus nowhere
implies the contrary. So far from this, a study of the context
shows that Valentinus is not of the class who rejected any of the
four. There is little room for doubting that Hippolytus, a pupil of
Irenseus, derived those comments upon certain places in the
Gospel which he quotes, from Valentinus himself, and not from a
disciple of his. There is no pretext for such a doubt concerning
his references to Basilides.5 Basilides flourished under Hadrian
(A.D. 117-138). Valentinus came to Rome about A.D. 140.
Heracleon composed his commentary about A.D. 160. In the
middle of the second century, the debate was carried on between
the Church and the gnostic heresiarchs. Justin shows the strongest
antipathy to Marcion and his followers, the Valentinians, Basilidians,
and the sect of Saturninus.6 Their doctrines he denounces as
blasphemous. Now all of these parties on the one side, and the
stanch defenders of orthodoxy on the other, accept in common
the fourth Gospel. The Gnostics did not dispute its apostolic
1 Adv. Marcion, iv. 3, cf. c. 2 ; De Came Christi, c. 3.
2 Adv. Hcer., iii. 2, 7.
3 For Origen's references, see Grabe, Spicilegimn, vol. ii., or Stieren's ed.
of Irenseus, i. 938-971, c. 38.
4 Tertullian, De Pr&scriptione PIccrret. For the sense of videtur in the
passage, see this work, p. 208.
5 Hippolytus, Ref. omn. liar., vi. 30, vii. 22, 27. See Prof. E. Abbot,
Critical Essays, p. 85 ; J. Drummond, Journ. Bibl. Lit. (1892), pp. 133-159.
6 Dial., c. 35 ; cf. Apol., i. 26.
254 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
authorship, but resorted to artificial interpretation of its contents.
The church teachers in confuting them had no heavier task than
to expose the fantastic character of their exegesis. The Gnostics,
however, made so much of the Gospel, and turned it to such a
use, that had there been a plausible pretext for doubting its apos
tolic authorship, the temptation to do so would have been very
strong. The beginnings of the Gnostic controversy are as early
as the Apocalypse, the Pastoral Epistles, and the Epistle to the
Colossians. Who was ingenious enough to frame a book of such
a character as to suit both the contending parties? If the author
of the work was known to have been an apostle, no explana
tion is called for, inasmuch as the Gnostics, Marcion excepted,
did not profess to set aside the authority of the apostles.1
Mention has been made of the contention of Keim, that the
ancient ecclesiastical writers — we might say, all antiquity — made
the mistake of confounding the apostle John with another person
of the same name, "John, the Presbyter." This supposition is
entitled to attention, chiefly for the reason that it has received
some countenance from so eminent a scholar as Harnack.2 It has
to meet a formidable obstacle which it would require very definite
proof to sustain, in the testimony of Irenaeus. Of especial inter
est is the letter of Irenaeus to one Florinus, whom he in his youth
had personally known, but who had embraced heretical opinions.
The letter dwells on the acquaintance which both had had with
Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna, who died as a martyr in 155 or 156,
at the age of eighty-six. The letter reads as follows : —
" I saw thee when I was still a boy, in Lower Asia in company with
Polycarp, while thou wast faring prosperously in the royal court, and
1 In the power of realizing the situation and its possibilities, in the epoch
adverted to, no scholar in Church History excels Neander. In a passage in
his Life of Jesus, he gives in forcible terms his judgment on the question here
considered. See Appendix, Note 14.
'2 It should be stated that Harnack, as might be expected, is not insensible
to the difficulties that beset this hypothesis, even when the one fact, which is
allowed to admit of no question, is considered, that " at the end of the second
century, not Irenaeus alone, but the ' Asia Minor Christians ' [" Kleinasiaten "]
generally held John, the son of Zebedee, to be the author of the Gospel." Die
Chronologic d. altchristl. Lit., i. 668. But the suggestion is risked that the
story of the identity of this author with John the apostle was started and
spread by Presbyters at Ephesus. Ibid., pp. 679, 680.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 255
endeavoring to stand well with him. For I distinctly remember the
incidents of that time better than events of recent occurrence ; for the
lessons received in childhood, growing with the growth of the soul,
become identified with it ; so that I can describe the very place in
which the blessed Polycarp used to sit when he discoursed, and his
goings out and his comings in, and his manner of life and his personal
appearance, and the discourses which he held before the people, and
how he would describe his intercourse with John, and with the rest who
had seen the Lord, and how he would relate their words. And what
soever things he had heard from them about the Lord, and about his
miracles, and about his teaching, as having received them from eye
witnesses of the life of the Word, he would relate altogether in accordance
with the scriptures. To these [discourses] I used to listen at the time
with attention by God's mercy which was bestowed upon me, noting
them down, not on paper but in my heart ; and by the grace of God, I
constantly ruminate upon them faithfully." l
Exactly how old Irenaeus was at the time to which these reminis
cences refer, we do not know. The Greek word for boy (TTOUS) is
a term which admits of the supposition that he was not less than
eighteen or twenty. The Greek for " our first youth," an expression
of Irenaeus in another place, frequently signifies " manhood," and
would not be out of place if he had reached that period of life.
It is a safe conclusion, from all the evidence, that his birth occurred
as early as 130* Even if it be assumed that at the time referred to
he was not more than fifteen years old, the material point is that
his recollection of the circumstances mentioned in the letter was
perfectly distinct. That by the " John " to whom Polycarp referred,
Irenaeus understood the apostle of that name, — the same to whom
he and his contemporaries attributed the authorship of the fourth
Gospel, — no one doubts.
The new hypothesis to account for the ascription of the author
ship of the fourth Gospel to the apostle John is that Irenseus
misunderstood Polycarp ; that he was really speaking of another
Ephesian of the same name, and that in the second century the
two Johns came to be confounded. Papias, among his sources of
information of which he makes mention in the passage cited by
Eusebius, names John the apostle, and then, a little later, two
" disciples of the Lord," Aristion and the " Presbyter [or Elder]
1 Lightfoot's translation, Essays on Supernatural Religion, p. 96.
z Zahn would place it as early as 115.
256 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
John." It is possible that Papias, perhaps from inadvertence,
mentions the apostle twice — the prefix in the last instance not
being an official title, but used, as it often was, to signify the
veneration in which a Christian worthy was held. Such is the
opinion of some scholars deserving of high respect. But the more
probable, as it is the more common opinion, is that a second John
is meant, and that " Elder " is used by Papias as a designation of
the office held by him in the Church. In this case the question
is, was Polycarp talking not of the apostle, as Irenaeus without a
shadow of doubt supposed, but of this "Elder"? Can this be
believed? Even if Irenaeus was a boy of fifteen, it is clear that
his attention had been riveted on the declarations of Polycarp.
They were of absorbing interest to him. His recollection of them
was too vivid to be inexact. Polycarp's "manner of life," "his
personal appearance," the "place where he used to sit," were
stamped upon his memory. It was not a single interview that he
remembered. "I used to listen," "where Polycarp used to sit,"
" how he would describe his intercourse with John and with the
rest who had seen the Lord, and how he would relate their words "
— these are the terms in which the eager and admiring pupil
described his teacher. It is not formal addresses like modern
sermons that Irenaeus speaks of. Polycarp told those who gath
ered about him what he had heard from John and from " the rest
who had seen the Lord," "about the Lord," "his miracles and
his teachings." " There must have been," as Professor Gwatkin
observes, " a great difference in the stories themselves, and cer
tainly in the telling of them, between the Lord's own apostle and
the Elder John who did not belong to the inner circle of his disci
ples." ] It is a large tax upon credulity when we are invited to
believe that Polycarp, all this while, was talking of some other
John than the apostle. Even were it supposable that Irenaeus
himself misapprehended Polycarp to this extent, were there no
other listeners about him among his acquaintance to set him
right? Were there none, in the East or the West, in all the years
that followed, to open his eyes to so egregious an error? There,
for example, was Pothinus, with whom at Lyons Irenaeus was
associated as a presbyter, and whom, on his death in 177, at the
1 Gwatkin, " Irenrcus on the Fourth Gospel," The Contemporary Review^
vol. 71 (1897, I-)* P- 226-
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 257
age of ninety, Irenaeus succeeded in the episcopal office.1 Harnack
does not question the fact that Irenaeus knew nothing of any
other John in Asia but John the apostle.2 The confusion of
names in the case of Philip the apostle and Philip the evangelist,
in which Eusebius shared, furnishes no parallel to such an error
on the part of Irenaeus.3
But what is known of the " Presbyter " John? He is apparently
a much more notable person in the German criticism of the present
day than he was in his own time or later.
As we have said, he is probably on the list which Papias gives of his
informants respecting apostolic times. Later in the century, Clement
of Alexandria and Polycrates, Bishop of Ephesus, like Irenaeus, knew
nothing of such a person.4 About 250, Dionysius, Bishop of Alexandria,
hazards the conjecture that the Apocalypse — a book which he regarded
with great disfavor on account of its teaching, or what he took to be
such, on the millennium — was written by another of the same name as
the apostle. He has no other reason for this surmise except that he
had heard of there being two tombs at Ephesus, each having the name
1 Irenseus is not free from inaccuracies in his references to traditions. It
is a rash and false inference which imputes to him in general a want of trust
worthiness. The most noteworthy instance of error is in the passage in
which he says that the ministry of Jesus did not terminate until he was forty
years old. Probably this idea was mistakenly deduced from John viii. 58,
" Thou art not yet fifty years old," etc. This chronological supposition was
not unlikely at the basis of the statement of the " elders," to which Irenaeus
refers in support of it. However improbable, it was not an impossible im
pression, for nothing in John's Gospel definitely excludes it. The phrase " all
the elders " may be an overstatement. See on this case of inaccuracy, Light-
foot, Essays on Supernatural Religion, p. 246. On the loose and exaggerated
charges of inaccuracy against the Fathers generally, see, also, Lightfoot's
protest and the proofs brought forward by h!m, especially the comparison of
the Fathers in this respect with Tacitus and other contemporary classical
authors. Ibid., p. 268. Other references to the life of John are in Irenoeus,
iii. 3, 4, ii. 2, 5, iii. 3, 4.
Reville, Quatrieme £vangile, etc. (1901), p. 13, says of the Letter of
Irenoeus to Florinus, " We see that the apologetic prepossession (preoccupa
tion) never leaves him." He is credited by Reville with being concerned, in
order to save Florinus and others from heresy, to make it out that he has
known in his childhood some one who knew the apostles, etc. Few
students of Irenseus need any answer to this imputation.
2 Chronologic^ etc., p. 673.
3 See what is said of Polycrates above, p. 26.
4 " Sie von einem anderen Johannes in Asien nichts wissen." So Har
nack, Chronologic, i. p. 673.
258 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
" John " inscribed on it.1 Of course there might have been two distinct
monuments of the apostle in different parts of the city or the suburbs.
Be this as it may, Dionysius says nothing of the " Presbyter " John,
whom he would not have omitted to mention here had he ever heard
of him. Nor, with the sole exception noted above, is there a hint of
his existence in any ecclesiastical writer prior to Eusebius (about 325).
And even what Eusebius has to say of him is probably an echo of
the remark of Dionysius.. The little that is said after Papias of
the possibility of a second John at Ephesus springs out of doctrinal
objections to the contents of the book of Revelation. If the " Pres
byter" John was a person of so high consideration as it must be pre
supposed that he was, in case he was known to be the author of the
fourth Gospel, and if he was the subject of detailed reminiscences in
public discourses of so celebrated a man as Polycarp, how account for
the well-nigh universal silence respecting him ?
If it was of the " Presbyter " that Polycarp talked in public
addresses, at least there must have been numerous hearers who
did not misunderstand him. We must not forget other connec
tions of Irenseus with this venerated martyr. In an admonitory
letter of Irenseus to Victor, Bishop of Rome, he referred to a
visit of Polycarp to that city (A.D. 155), and to the appeal which
Polycarp then made to instruction which he had received respect
ing the observance of Easter from John and other apostles.2 If
Irenseus erred in this statement, it would have been evident at
Rome, where the occurrences at Polycarp's visit would be remem
bered. It is not alone from Polycarp directly that Irenaeus was
informed of his recollections of John. The story of the apostle's
meeting the heretic Cerinthus in the bath, he had heard from
individuals to whom Polycarp had related it.3 Not Polycarp alone,
but other " elders " —worthies of a former day — who had also
known John, are referred to by Irenaeus. Polycarp was not the
sole link connecting him with the apostle. He had before him
the work of Papias, in which, if anywhere, the apostle was distin
guished from the presbyter of the same name. Of this we may
1 Jerome speaks of two tombs at Ephesus, each inscribed with the name
of John. But he considers them both memorials of the apostle (De Viris III,,
c. 9). Says Dr. McGiffert, "The existence of two such memorials in Ephesus
by no means proves that more than one John was buried there." See Dr.
McGiffert's ed. of Eusebius, iii. 39, n. 13.
2 Irenaeus, ed. Stieren, Fragmenta, iii. p. 826.
3 Ibid., Adv. Har., iii. 3, 4.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 259
be sure that neither Irenaeus nor Eusebius found anything in Papias
not consistent with the apostolic authorship of the Gospel. If
Irenaeus was mistaken, of which we cannot be certain, in saying
that Papias himself had been taught by the apostle, this will not
justify the imputing to him of a like mistake respecting Polycarp,
with whom he had had personal intercourse of the character
described by him.1
The fact of the residence of the apostle John at Ephesus, and
of his wide influence in that region, is not open to reasonable
doubt. Renan even goes so far as to say that we should have to
suppose a falsehood on the part of Irenaeus if we held that John
did not live in Asia.2 Other witnesses besides Irenaeus testify to
1 However Weizsacker errs on certain points, his observations on the sus
pected confusion of names and on other connected points are sound and con
vincing. Between the case of Polycarp and Papias, the great difference lies
here, that " Irenseus nowhere refers to information which he had received
from Papias. To infer a mistake in the case of Polycarp is therefore un
warranted." " That Irenaeus does not mention the other John, furnishes no
reason for thinking that he confounded him with the apostle. The whole
weight which Irenaeus lays upon the apostolic character of his John contra
dicts the assumption. . Not even that this second John had been in Ephesus
has an older witness for it. From the words of Papias we find that he [the
second John] came down to his time ; from which it follows that he also stood
in point of time much too near Irenaeus to render it possible for him to be
confounded by him with the apostle." Even if Papias did not err in placing
him in the apostolic instead of the next following generation, the expla
nation of the Johannean writings would not be a hair easier than if they
came from the apostle John. The nail is too weak to hang upon it the
whole Johannean tradition. Weizsacker, Das Apostolisches Zeitalter (ed. 2),
pp. 480-482.
What Eusebius says (iii. 39) contains no proof that Papias was a hearer of
the Presbyter John or of Aristion. What Eusebius here says in one sentence
he virtually retracts in the next. The language in the quotation of Eusebius
does not imply that Papias had personally known either of them.
2 Lcs Evangiles, p. 425, n. 2.
The attestation of Polycrates (Eusebius, H. E., iii. 31) is thought by some
to be weakened in value by a confusion of names, which he may have shared
with others, in regard to " Philip," whom he refers to as " one of the twelve
apostles who sleeps in Hierapolis." The broad use of the term " apostle,"
coupled with the fact of the truly apostolic labors of the Evangelist of this
name, might naturally give rise to this confusion, in which even Eusebius and,
later, Augustine, partake. See Hastings, Dictionary of the Bible, art.
" Philip the Apostle " ; McGiffert's ed. of Eusebius, ad loc. That it was the
apostle who died at Hierapolis is the opinion of Lightfoot (Co/osstans, p. 45 ;
App. Fathers ; Ignatius, i. p. 422 ; Colossians (ed. 3, 1879), p. 46). The
260 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the sojourn of the apostle there, — Apollonius an Asiatic bishop
and an early writer ; Polycrates, who was born as early as A.D. 125,
a bishop of Ephesus, seven of whose relatives had also been bish
ops ; Clement of Alexandria, who relates the incident — whether
it be true or not is now immaterial — of John's conversion of the
apostate youth who had become a robber.1 Other early legends
relating to the apostle imply at least the knowledge that he had
lived at Ephesus. Justin Martyr, who was a native of Palestine,
was acquainted with Christians in Asia as well as at Rome. We
know that in the year 135 he sojourned at Ephesus. Now Justin
says that the apostle John wrote the Apocalypse. It matters not,
as concerns the question now before us, whether in that particular
he was correct or not. It is certain, from its contents as well as
from the tradition, that at Ephesus or in its neighborhood the book
of Revelation was written. This book was undoubtedly ascribed
to the apostle. It would not have been, had he not been known to
have lived there. Keim is one of the critics who admit that the
author of the Gospel, whoever he was, proceeded on the supposi
tion that John had lived in Asia Minor ; so that on their own views
of the date of the Gospel, early in the second century the belief
must have prevailed that the apostle had dwelt there. The traces
of the influence of John in Asia were distinct and permanent.
There was in reality, as Lightfoot has shown, a later " school of
John " — a class of writers coming after Polycarp and Papias, and
including Melito of Sardis, Claudius Apollinaris, and Polycrates
— who bear incontestable marks of the peculiar influence of the
apostle's teaching.2 Weizsacker, whose critical views on many
important points are opposed to those of Lightfoot, is equally
impressed with the proofs of a prevalent type of thought traceable
to this apostle. He dwells on the variety of these evidences and
name of Philip is in the list of apostles in the fragment of Papias (Eusebius,
H. £., in. 39). The arguments of Lightfoot appear to me to have weight.
But whether Polycrates was correct or not in this designation, Polycrates was
not bishop in Phrygian Hierapolis, but in Ephesus, and had exceptional ad
vantages for being familiar with the main facts to which he adverts. If
Philip the evangelist was a personal disciple of Christ, — and there is noth
ing in Acts to preclude this supposition, — he might the more easily have
been confounded with the apostle by Polycrates as well as by others. See
Zahn, Einl. in d. N. T., ii. p. 573 (n. 3).
1 Eusebius, //. E., v. 18.
2 Lightfoot, Essays on Supernatural Religion, vii.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 261
on the personal influence of the apostle which they presuppose.1
Professor Loofs, a learned and impartial scholar, speaking of the
influence of the Johannean teaching, says : —
" In regard to scarcely one point in the sphere of the History of
Doctrine, ought the Church to be as much interested as in this. For
here is presented a line of tradition within which the particulars, charac
teristic of the theology of a Biblical Book, — the Gospel which Luther
styled ; the unique, tender, principal Gospel,1 — manifest their influ
ence, proceeding from a definable centre and source, within the sphere
of the History of Doctrine. The ' Introductions,' to be sure, which
take the Fourth Gospel for a philosophical after-birth of the Evangelical
literature, are fond of talking of the scanty traces of the Gospel of John
in the period prior to 150 ; but in truth there is no Biblical book whose
influence, in the History of Doctrine, can be traced so clearly from the
time of its composition, as that of the Gospel of John."
Loofs calls attention to the distinct influence of the Johannean
conception of Christ on Ignatius, in connection with the close
relation of this Father to Asia Minor.2
The statements of Irenaeus, who was in a position to ascertain the
fact respecting the prolonged life of the apostle, are confirmed by the
traditions incorporated in ancient ecclesiastical writers to which refer
ence has been made. Clement's account of the rescue of the outlaw
chief, and Jerome's interesting narrative of the aged apostle's method
of addressing his flock, indicate a general belief that his life was pro
tracted to extreme old age.
The circumstance that there is no competing tradition as to the place
of the apostle John's death deserves mention. The tradition that Peter,
as well as Paul, died at Rome, there being no other tradition as to the
place of Peter's death, has now gained acceptance. In the case of
1 Apostolisches Z-eitalter (ed. 2), p. 482 seq., p. 538.
2 Real. Encycl. d. K. u. Theol, (eel. 3), iv. 29, art. " Christologie." The
Epistles of Ignatius are " saturated with Johannean ideas and phrases." For
some examples, see A Biblical Introduction, by Bennett and Adeney, p. 329,
n. 4. It is said that Ignatius, writing to the Ephesians, mentions the apostle
Paul by name (c. xii.), but not the apostle John. The reason is plain. It is in
connection with his own foresight of martyrdom that he is reminded of Paul;
John died in old age and in peace. In the preceding chapter (xi.), Ignatius
speaks of the relation of the Ephesian Christians to "the apostles" in the
plural. See Lightfoot, App. Fathers, vol. ii. sect. i. p. 64, vol. i. p. 390.
Harnack (Chronologic, etc., p. 679, n.) considers it probable (iiberwiegend
wahrscheinlich) that Ignatius has in mind the apostle John when he refers,
in his Epistle to the Ephesians, to their association with apostles. In this
Epistle, c. ix., the passage is apparently suggested by John xii. 32.
262 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
apostles so eminent the absence of rival traditions on this point is of
weight.
We are authorized in picturing to ourselves the apostle John,
near the close of the first century, at Ephesus, a flourishing centre
of Christianity, surrounded by disciples whom he had trained —
disciples who, in common with the churches in all that district,
looked up to him with affectionate reverence. We must bear in
mind that it is not as author only, conspicuous as that function
was, that the ecclesiastical tradition concerning John's abode and
ministry in Asia was connected. Included in this stream of tradi
tion which spread far and wide was his instrumentality in organ
izing the churches in that region. His influence was operative
toward restoring a unity in the Christian societies at the time when
Jerusalem had ceased to be a centre, when Judaism was an im
placably hostile force, and the apostle Paul was no more among
the living. If the apostle John did not write the Gospel which
bears his name, how did those Asian disciples and churches come
to believe that he did ? How did all the churches come to share
in the belief?
Many of John's disciples must have been living at the time when the
Gospel is admitted to have been in circulation. If it was not genuine,
would not voices have been raised to dispute its claims? If spurious,
very little scrutiny would have sufficed to detect it. Of late, the micro
scopic examination of particular passages in the Fathers, and prolonged
comment on minor points of evidence about which debate may be
started, have operated to spread a mist over the more comprehensive
features of proof. The strength of the external argument for the apos
tolic authorship of the Gospel has seldom been fully appreciated by
believer or sceptic.
Thus far we have tarried in the domain of external evidence.
But the twenty-first chapter is evidently an appendix which follows
the termination of the Gospel in the last verse of the twentieth.
Yet it contains a testimony obviously from an external source,
which, however, like the entire chapter which contains it, has
formed a part of the Gospel since it passed out of the hands of
the intimate disciples of John. One question is whether this
closing chapter was a later addition of the author himself, or of
these, or one of these, near associates. The twenty-third verse,
which corrects a misinterpretation of words spoken by Jesus to
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 263
Peter, may not have been written before the death of the author
of the Gospel, yet the supposition that they were is, perhaps,
more natural. The occurrence of the words, " the sons of
Zebedee " (v. 2), since the passage is in a list of apostles who
were present with Jesus, might naturally enough come from the
apostle John. The testimony referred to is the twenty-fourth
verse, " This is the disciple which beareth witness of these things
and wrote these things, and we know that his witness is true."
This is said of the Gospel that precedes. It is a declaration
which means, and can only mean, that " the disciple " — a desig
nation, it is admitted by all, of John, the apostle — wrote the fourth
Gospel. The author of this statement speaks in the name of his
fellow-disciples, as well as for himself. It is a genuine attestation
which owed its value to the fact that its authors were known to
those who read it.
It behooves us, however, further to inquire whether the force of
the testimony for the apostolic authorship is weakened by the one
instance of dissent from the universal belief — the dissent of the so-
called "Alogi." This term is a nickname, coined by Hippolytus,orby
Epiphanius, and is used by him in his descriptive catalogue of here
sies, great and small.1 The word might mean "averse to the Logos,"
or it might signify " irrationals." It was invented to stigmatize cer
tain opponents of the Johannean authorship of the fourth Gospel
in Thyatira, somewhere about 150. They had no name, and were
not numerous enough or important enough to form a sect. They
were prompted to their denial by their repugnance to the Mon-
tanist enthusiasts, in particular to what they taught respecting
prophecy, the incarnate manifestation of the Paraclete, revived
miraculous gifts of the Spirit, and an earthly millennium soon to be
ushered in through the second coming of Christ. Their critical
objections followed in aid of this doctrinal repugnance. So far
as appears, they did not deny the divinity of Christ. It is not
even certain that they rejected the Johannean conception of the
Logos. But they discarded both the Gospel and the Apocalypse.
From the way in which Irenaeus refers to the " Alogi," it is evi
dent that he looked upon them as a handful of dissentients whose
departure from orthodox tenets was in the particulars named
above.2 The extreme to which they were carried in their hostility
1 Adv. Har., 51. 2 Adv. Hccr., iii., xi. 9.
264 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
to the tenets of the Montanists, who appealed to the promise of
the Paraclete in the Gospel, naturally engendered an opposition to
this Gospel. For this position they would be inclined to seek for
some objective grounds, beyond the doctrinal reason.1 Some of
them, not improbably, made their way to Rome, or their views may
have become known there through writings. A lost writing of
Hippolytus in defence of the Gospel and the Apocalypse is judged
to have related to them. Be it observed, however, that in the
widespread reaction of the third century against Chiliasm, it was
not the apostolic authorship of the Gospel, but of the Apocalypse,
that was antagonized. It appears that even Caius, an " ecclesias
tical person " at Rome, at the end of the second century, did not
question the apostolic authorship of the Gospel. It was not ques
tioned by Dionysius, Bishop of Alexandria, a half-century later.
The point of chief concern is, to ascertain what positive explana
tion the " Alogi " had to give of the origin of the fourth Gospel.
They said that it was not worthy to be, or to be recognized, in
the Church. This implies that, as a matter of fact, it was recog
nized and accepted. Following the custom of imputing unaccept
able writings, professing to be apostolic, to heretics, they ascribed
the fourth Gospel to Cerinthus — absurdly, since his opinions
were the reverse of its teachings. That any disciple of the
apostle, or any group of his disciples, was its author, they did not
so much as conjecture. In the mixed system of Cerinthus, the
world was made by angels, one of whom gave to the Jews their
law. At the baptism of the man Jesus, Christ descended upon
him from above, but parted with him before his crucifixion. With
these ideas was united a millenarian tenet of a materialistic type.2
Inasmuch as Cerinthus was known to be a contemporary of the
apostle John, the notion of the Alogi as to its author is tanta
mount to a concurrence with the traditional statement as to its
date. It shows, moreover, that if they had ever heard of " John
the Presbyter," it did not so much as occur to them to think of
him as possibly the author of this Gospel.
1 On the subject of the Alogi and the importance to be attached to them,
the discussions of Theodore Zahn and Harnack, who differ widely on this last
point, are of special value. See Zahn, Gesch. d. Kanons, i. 223-262, ii. 977 ;
Einl. in d. N. Test., ii. 447, 449, 46 seq. Harnack, Doginengesch., i. (ed. 3),
p. 660 seq. ; Real-Encyd. d. TheoL u. K., i. p. 386-^7., art. " Aloger " (by Zahn).
2 For a concise sketch of the opinions of Cerinthus, see Hort, Judaistic
Christianity, p. 190.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 265
Zeller, one of the most eminent writers of the school of Baur, can
didly remarks that the protest of the Alogi, connected as it was with
the ascription by them of the Gospel to Cerinthus, does not indicate the
existence of any other tradition respecting its origin than the tradition
established in the Church.1 Irenaeus's notice of the objection made by
the Alogi to the apostolic authorship of the fourth Gospel makes it
evident that he regarded their objection as unimportant. Still, had it
been felt that there was reason for doubt on the question, their asser
tion would have been likely to excite a ferment. It should be remem
bered that it occurred at a time when there was no accepted canon, no
commonly recognized collection of New Testament Scriptures. Justin
refers to the Gospels as being historical authorities, recognized as such
by the churches. The reaction against the excesses of millenarianism
provoked even later a repudiation of the Apocalypse, which was not
confined to an insignificant local opposition.
A middle theory has been espoused by some, namely, that dis
ciples of the apostle John composed the Gospel on the basis of
oral instruction, which they had received from him. Matthew
Arnold conjectured that the Ephesian Presbyters, partly on the
basis of materials furnished by the apostle, were the authors of
the book.2 Clement of Alexandria reports the tradition that John
wrote at the urgent request of familiar friends. The Muratorian
Fragment makes a like statement, with the additional circumstance
of a revelation to Andrew, to the effect that John " should write
down everything and all should certify." 3 Weizsacker has advo
cated the opinion that the Gospel was written by a disciple of the
apostle, on the basis of Johannean traditions. There is no pa
tristic support for such an hypothesis. It has to confront, first,
testimony, respecting the authorship of the book, that the
writer himself gives, which will soon be adverted to j and, sec
ondly, the direct testimony, evidently proceeding from the disci
ples of the apostle (John xxi. 24).4
1 Theol. fahrbb., 1845, P- 645-
2 Cod and the Bible, p. 248.
3 Mr. Arnold renders the word recognoscentibus " revise." This is a possi
ble, but not the usual, meaning of the word. It signifies " to inspect," " to
examine " with a view to approval, hence "to indorse" or "authenticate."
This appears to be its meaning in the document referred to.
4 Ilarnack (Chronologie, etc., pp. 676, 677) speaks of verse 24 as the offi
cious or uncalled-for testimony (unberufenes Zeugniss) attached to the Gos
pel. Yet as to its first part, the "bearing witness to these things" by the
apostle John, he holds that there is a measure of truth in the statement. Yet
266 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Notice must likewise be taken of the hypothesis of a partition
of the Gospel between two distinct authors, the record of the dis
courses being ascribed to one, and the record of the historical
occurrences to another.1 Renan, it will be remembered, gave the
preference to the narrative part, which, after several modifications
of opinion, he credited to a disciple of the apostle John, who was
dependent in a degree for his materials on the apostle himself.
Wendt, a scholar of an excellent spirit, standing in his theologi
cal opinions at an opposite pole from Renan, reverses this allot
ment. He assigns to the discourses in the Gospel the same
relation to the entire book which many critics are disposed to
ascribe to the Logia in relation to the entire Matthew.2 A consid
erable portion of the record of the teaching of Jesus, including
the principal parts of the final discourses, is thought by Wendt to
have been written by the apostle, whose sojourn in Asia Minor
is recognized as a fact. On the basis of this apostolic source, it
is conceived that a Christian disciple afterward — possibly, but
not probably, prior to the apostle's death — composed the Gos
pel as it now stands. In it the teachings in the apostolic docu
ment are modified and enlarged to accord with the shape which
the tradition had assumed in the circle of Asia Minor Christians,
and the unwritten tradition of the narrative matter is added in the
form which it had acquired among them. Various changes and
supplements, it is said, belong to what is termed " second evan
gelic tradition," traces of which, it is argued, are discernible in
the first and third Gospels, as contrasted with Mark.
Wendt believes that the Evangelist is correct as to some prominent
controverted points, such as the self-designation (but within narrow
limits) of the apostolic author, the longer duration of the ministry of
Jesus, the journeys repeatedly (rnanchmals) made by him to Jerusalem,
this entire verse has been a part of the Gospel as far back as anything is
known of it. It is in truth a " Zeugniss " — a testimony. The clause
"wrote these things" is a part of it. It is agreed that it refers to John the
apostle. It comes from those whose testimony could only commend itself to
acceptance by being known to emanate from persons who had stood in con
nection with the apostle.
1 The different forms of the partition-theory are sketched in Mangold-
Bleek, Einl. in d. N. T., p. 185 seq.t up to the date of this work (1875).
2 Wendt's exposition of his views is given in his Die Lehre Jesu (1886-
1890). He has presented a clear and compact restatement in Das Johannes*
evangelium, Eine Untersuchung, etc. (1900).
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 267
his prolonged Judean teaching, the date of the crucifixion, and (not im
probably) the association of the first disciples, including John, with John
the Baptist, and their acquaintance thus made with Jesus. But we are
told that in the completed Gospel there is no small admixture of unhis-
torical circumstances, as well as of doctrinal matter, which are additions
of the Evangelist. As a whole, we have a history the authentic por
tions of which must be dissected out of it by the skilful manipulation
of the critic. The prologue is cited as one instance in which proof of
interpolation can be discerned. Certain sentences which are alleged to
be Philonian ideas of the Logos, are said to be insertions in the apos
tolic source, which said nothing of the personal preexistence of the
Logos or of the agency of the Logos in the work of creation.
It is natural to ask where the narrative parts which the other
Gospels do not contain, and which, it is contended, are in con
flict with them, come from. The same question occurs respecting
the portion of teaching which, it is maintained, is not consistent
with contents of the authentic document from the apostle's own
hand.
Wendt absolutely acquits the Evangelist of any intention to
deceive. The Gospel is no product of a doctrinal party or bias.
It is not a freie Dichtung — a product of the imagination.1 The
Evangelist may himself have been a hearer of the apostle John.
At any rate, he worked on oral communications from the apostle.2
The latter had lived for many years in the circle of Asia Minor
Christians.3 The special interest felt in John at Ephesus is mani
fest. The Evangelist belonged to the circle in which John had
lived.4 " With what reverent interest (pietatvollem Interesse) they
may have received there the notes in which the apostle had set
down his recollections of the conversation, fraught with interest,
and the discourses of Jesus."5 Yet a different set of conceptions,
doctrinal and historical, had sprung up, independently of the apos
tles, in that Christian community, when the Evangelist wrote —
which Wendt thinks was probably in the first quarter of the
second century — that community where the apostle was so re
vered and his teachings, oral and written — in great part written
— were so prized and cherished.6 Somehow, without suspecting
it, his disciples had lost an important part of their real import.
Unconsciously and artlessly (imbcfangeti) they had carried their
own ideas over into the words of the apostle ! The hypothesis of
1 Das Johannesevangel.i pp. 227-228. 2 pp. 222, 223. 3 p. 219.
4 p. 217. * Ibid. 6p. 218.
268 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Wendt comprises in it inconsistent conjectures. These are sup
ported by details of criticism, sometimes plausible, always sincere,
but usually suggested by supposed difficulties which admit of fair
solutions not implying the theory which the author favors.1
It is for competent judges to decide whether the acceptance of
this and every other partition theory is not precluded by the iden
tity of style, both in expression and thought, between the Gospel
and the First Epistle. As to the Gospel, Neander's remark that
it was produced " aits cinem Gusse" —at one cast — stands as
the judgment of a scholar of acute perception and of deep spiritual
insight. What Strauss said of the Gospel, that it is a " seamless
garment," is the verdict of a proficient in the literary art who, so
far as this verdict is concerned, could not have been swayed by
prejudice. The partition theory would make it criss-crossed with
seams. In following the suggested lines of demarcation, we soon
become conscious that we are walking on slippery ground. Cer
tainly the same sort of procedure might be made to appear equally,
and even more, plausible, if applied to numerous other productions
in history and in other branches of literature, the unity of which
nobody questions. In a portion of Wendt's list of instances of a
" broken connection " in the records of the discourses of Christ,
a break is not recognized even by such opponents of the apostolic
authorship of the Gospel as Jiilicher and Smiedel. In certain pas
sages Haupt, who dissents in general from the positions of Wendt,
is disposed to agree with him as to the phenomena. His explana
tion, however, is wholly different, and is deserving of more atten
tion than it has received. It is that the apostle, in setting forth
the objections from the side of the Jews, and their refutation by
Jesus, has occasionally taken the same course as that taken by
Matthew — for example, in the case of the Sermon on the Mount.
That is to say, with the statement of what was said at a particular
time or place, the apostle has now and then connected sayings
uttered by them or by him on the same topic, but on other occa
sions. There is no need of bringing in another writer than the
1 A very able review of Wendt's hypothesis by Haupt, in the Studien u.
Kritiken (1893, Heft 2), discusses adversely his arguments, especially the
exegetical passages in support of his position. A good example of Haupt's
comments is his answer to Wendt's interpretation of the terms <nj/m,eia and Hpya
in the fourth Gospel, and to the inferences drawn from them. (Haupt,
p. 238 «?.)
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 269
apostle, — a solution which is improbable. If it were another
writer, he would naturally locate his addition elsewhere, instead of
piecing out the words of Jesus by an invented supplement. In
order to hold the non-apostolic Evangelist responsible for " dislo
cations," it is suggested by Wendt that he was dealing with the
apostolic source from memory, not having it in his hand — a sup
position, of course, unsupported by proof.1
Wendt recognizes the evidence of the influence of the apostle John's
teaching on Ignatius and on Justin. He thinks it remarkable, however,
that their allusions should be to passages which belong in the apostolic
source rather than in the narrative portion of the Gospel. But here is
the passage in Justin (Dial. 88) : " I am the voice of one crying in the
wilderness,1' etc. (John i. 20, 21, 27). The reference of this quotation
to some other source than the fourth Gospel would strike one, in a less
sincere writer, as a makeshift. The reasonable presumption is, that it is
taken from the narrative in John. Considering the aims of Ignatius,
and his themes, we see that he would naturally refer to teachings in the
Gospel rather than incidents. The same is true of Justin. The fact
that Tatian, the pupil of Justin, in his Diatesseron, combined the
fourth Gospel with the other three, thereby implying that it was held to
be equal in authority, makes it most unlikely that Justin was not
acquainted with it or was of a different mind.
The partition theories are excluded by the definite and emphatic
testimony at the end of the Gospel. To the Gospel as a whole
this testimony refers when it says that the author " wrote these
things." This is not questioned by Wendt. His explanation is,
that as the Logia of Matthew at the basis of the first Gospel caused
his name to be attached to the entire book, so it was with the
apostolic source in relation to the fourth Gospel. The cases are
not parallel. For one thing, there is no definite assertion of this
sort at the end of the first Gospel. In the case before us, we have
an explicit declaration which has been a part of the Gospel since
its first promulgation.
It comes from the circle of John's disciples, as is shown in
the plural: "We know that his witness is true." In the closing
verse, which is apparently from the same writer, he resumes the first
person : " I suppose that the world would not contain," etc., — an
expression of the wonder and enthusiasm which the fulness of mate
rial contained in the life and works of Jesus awakened in his mind.
1 See Appendix, Note 15.
2/0 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
It is conceivable that the external evidence, cogent as it
appears, for the genuineness of the fourth Gospel should be out
weighed by internal proofs of an opposite tenor. This branch of
the discussion we have now to consider.
Under this head the first fact to be mentioned is that the
author of the Gospel was a Hebrew, not one of foreign birth, but
a Palestinian. This is evident from the linguistic character of the
book. It is altogether peculiar. The Greek was not the writer's
vernacular ; it was an acquired tongue. This has been clearly illus
trated by Lightfoot,1 and has been elucidated by Ewald,2 who says :
" It is quite worthy of notice that the Greek language of the author
carries in it the clearest and strongest marks of a genuine Hebrew who
was bora in the Holy Land, and in that society grew up without speak
ing Greek, and who even in the midst of the Greek garb which he
learned to wrap about him, still keeps the whole spirit and breadth of
his mother-tongue, and has no scruples in letting himself be guided by
it. The Greek language of our Gospel, to be sure, has not so strong a
Hebrew color as that of the older Gospels ; it has taken up more genu
ine Greek traits. But in its real spirit and tone no style could be more
genuinely Hebrew than our author's. Since, nevertheless, even in his
linguistic peculiarity, he has not cast aside his characteristically creative
power and movement, there has originated with him a Greek which is
peculiar, and has nothing like it elsewhere even among writings which
are tinged with the Hebrew. Only the time, the biographical facts, and
all the characteristics of the apostle John can explain the originality of
this Greek style."
The impression made on the ordinary reader by the sceptical
criticism on this subject of the nativity of the author is a good
deal due to the frequent use of the Greek word " Logos " instead
of " Word," its proper rendering. Enough has been said as to
the strong Hebraic coloring of the author's style. The concep
tions that often recur in the Gospel, as "life," "light," "truth,"
are drawn from the circle of Old Testament thought. The author
ity of the Old Testament, the inspiration of Moses and the Proph
ets, are assumed.3 With the characteristic features of the Messianic
1 Lecture on the " Internal Evidence for the Johannine Authorship," in
The Expositor, for January, February, and March, 1890. Also, with full
details, Biblical Essays, pp. 16, 126.
2 Ewald, Die Johannischen Schriften, vol. i. pp. 44 seq. Ewald on this
point is an authority of the first rank.
3 i. 45, iii. 14, v. 46, vi. 32, vii. 38, viii. 56, x. 35, xii. 14 seq., 37 seq., xv. 25,
xix. 23 seq., 28, 35, 36, 37, xx. 31.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 2/1
expectation the author is quite familiar. The same is true of
Jewish opinions and customs generally ; for example, the usages
connected with marriage and with the burial of the dead. Wit
ness his acquaintance with the prejudice against conversing with
women (iv. 27), with the mutual hatred of Jews and Samaritans
(iv. 9), with the opinion that deformity or suffering implies sin (ix.
2). He is intimately conversant with Jewish observances, as is
seen in what he says of "the last day of the feast" (vii. 37) —
that is, the day added to the original seven — of the wedding at
Cana, of the burial of Lazarus. We have seen that the allusions
to the topography of the Holy Land come from one personally
conversant with the places. He knows how to distinguish Cana
of Galilee from another place, of more consequence, of the same
name (ii. i, 1 1) . Of the Sea of Galilee, the passage across, and the
paths on its shores, he has an accurate recollection. The same
is seen at the opening of ch. iv., in the reference to the Valley of
Sychem. He has in his mind the image of the Pavement, or plat
form on which Pilate's chair was placed, with its Hebrew name,
Gabbatha (xix. 13).
It is agreed on all sides that the Gospel stands in a special and
peculiar relation to one apostle.1 That apostle is admitted, with
no dissent that merits attention, to be the apostle John.2 But the
name of the apostle who is thus prominent is not mentioned.
The mention of it is purposely avoided, a circumlocution standing in
the room of it. At the Last Supper, there reclined on the bosom of
Jesus "one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved" (xiii. 23). To him,
designated in the same terms, Jesus commits the care of his mother
(xiv. 26). This disciple — "the other disciple whom Jesus loved"
(xx. 2) — goes with Peter to the tomb of Jesus. Once more (xxi. 7)
he is designated in the same way. He it is who is termed " another
disciple," and " that other disciple1' (xviii. 15, 16; compare xx. 2, 3,
4, 8). Unquestionably he is the "one of the two" whose name is not
given, the associate of Andrew (i. 40). In the appendix to the Gospel
(xxi. 24; compare vs. 20), he is explicitly declared to be its writer.3
That he was one of those who had personally known Jesus is left to be
inferred, yet it must be inferred from his use of the first person plural
1 See, e.g., Weizsacker, Das Apostolisches Zeitalter, 2cl ed. p. 513.
2 Ibid., pp. 513 scq.
3 The passage will bear no other interpretation. Weizsacker says {Das
ApostoL Zeitalt., p. 535) that it need not be taken literally, but as simply
meaning that the apostle was the ultimate source. This will not do.
2/2 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
of the pronoun. In the Prologue (i. 14), it is said, "We beheld his
glory,'1 etc. This cannot be understood to denote simply a spiritual,
mystic vision. It is of the incarnate Christ, Christ in the flesh, that
the writer is speaking. In the First Epistle the language is : " That
which we beheld and our hands handled." If this does mean literal
sense-perception, verified by touch as well as by sight, how could the
author express such a fact if he wanted to ? l The author of both writ
ings is one and the same. Which of the disciples is meant in all these
passages? Not Peter, since Peter is not only mentioned by name in
various places but is also expressly distinguished from him. It was an
apostle not lower in rank than Peter. It was not James ; James was put
to death early in the apostolic age (Acts xii. 2 seq.~). Beyond doubt the
apostle whose name is suppressed is John. Why is he referred to in
this indirect way ? If the author was recording events in which he him
self had a prominent part, he might prefer to present the narrative in
this objective way. Like examples in literature are not wanting. That
he had to bring out his close intimacy with Jesus might be another
motive for this reserve.2 It is worthy of remark that not even the name
of his brother James is to be found in the Gospel. These motives it
ought not to be difficult to comprehend. One appeal in the Gospel to
ocular testimony calls for special notice. After stating that one of the
soldiers pierced the side of Jesus and that there came out blood and
water, the Evangelist says (xix. 35, Revised Version) : "And he that
hath seen hath borne witness, and his witness is true ; and he knoweth
that he saith true, that ye also may believe.1' Does the Evangelist make
an appeal to another witness separate from himself, who is said to be
conscious of the truth of his own testimony ; or does he appeal " to his
own actual experience, now solemnly recorded for the instruction of his
readers?" The question is thus clearly put by Westcott, who deals
with it in a very intelligent and convincing manner : 3 " The last alter
native has generally been accepted, and on good grounds, that is, the
Evangelist speaks of himself in the third person. There are examples
of this usage in classical writers. In John ix. 37, there is a like in
stance. Jesus says, i Thou hast both seen him, and he it is that speak-
eth with thee.1 If the author of the Gospel could use the first clause
... of himself, there can be no reasonable doubt that he could also
use of himself the particular pronoun which occurs in the second clause.'1
" To resume and emphasize the reference,11 the author elsewhere uses
1 Futile attempts to avoid this interpretation are answered by B. Weiss,
Die drei Briefe d. Apostels Johannes, ad he. Parallel statements of sense-
perception, in the Gospel, are i. 32, 38, iv. 35, vi. 5, xi. 45. The difficulty of
attaching any other meaning to these two passages (John i. 14 and I Ep.
John i. i) is recognized by McGiffert, Apostolic Age, p. 616.
2 See another suggestion on the phrase " whom Jesus loved," Appendix,
Note 1 6. *St.Johrts Gospel, Introd., p. 26.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 2/3
this particular pronoun (ch. i. 18 ; ch. v. 38). A few verses before the
record of this act of the soldier (vv. 26, 27), '-'the Evangelist is pre
sented as a historical figure in the scene." When, recalling the scene,
he comes to this incident in which he was deeply interested, it is quite
natural that he should pause and " separate himself as the witness from
his immediate position as a writer. In this mental attitude, he looks from
without upon himself (CKCIVOS) as affected at that memorable moment
by the fact which he records, in order that it may now create in others
the faith (Trio-re^re) which it had created in his own soul." Moreover,
it was not a witness that was given at one time ; the tense is the perfect
( " it has been given " ) ; and, further, it continues to be given ( " he
knoweth that he saith true"). It is given "that ye may believe."
The other interpretation, as Westcott remarks, is pointless. It would
make the passage nothing but an emphatic appeal to an unknown wit
ness who is said to be conscious of the truthfulness of his own testi
mony. If the passage had stood, He that hath seen hath borne witness,
that ye also may believe, nobody would have doubted that the reference
of the writer was to himself; but the intercalated clauses do not inter
fere in the least with this interpretation. The language chosen by the
Evangelist grows out of his sense of the solemnity of the attestation
which he is giving.1
That the author of the Gospel signifies to his readers that he
is giving his personal testimony appears evident from the passages
adduced above. The truth of this profession is confirmed by the
appended attestation from another hand (John xxi. 24). 2 If it
1 "... um mit besonderer Feierlichkeit die \Yahrbaftigkeit seines Zeugnisses
zu versichern." (Weiss-Meyer, ad loc.} See also Weiss, Einl. in d. N. T.,
p. 560.
Zahn thinks that " he " (e/cer^os) that " knoweth " is Christ. He refers to
certain passages as illustrative (John ix. 37 ; i. 34, especially I John ii. 6,
iii. 5, 7, 16). See Zahn, Einl. in d. N. 71., vol. ii. pp. 172 seq. But the inter
pretation given above is better fitted to the language and is quite satisfactory.
Baur regards the Evangelist as speaking of himself as the witness. But he
would construe this alleged perception of spiritual objects as a kind of mysti
cal, spiritual discernment, — an intuition of spiritual effects to follow the
death of Christ. This is to confound plain prose with poesy. The solemn
tone of the assertion does not cohere with such a view of it. If the Evangel
ist did not see what he emphatically avers that he did see, his misstatement
must have a worse source than what the critic calls " die Macht der Idee."
2 It is certainly surprising, as all must confess, that there is no mention of
Zebedee and his sons, except in a row of names of apostles in the appendix
(xxi. i, 2). Whether this appended chapter as far as the 24th verse was from
the pen of the apostle or from disciples of the apostle (or one of them) by
whom the Gospel was sent forth, is still an open question. It is not easy to
T
2/4 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
be not the apostle who writes the Gospel, it is not easy to escape
the inference that deceit is intended. If so, it is a different sort
of deceit from that which characterizes the pseudonymous writ
ings with which we are acquainted. There is none of that naivete
of the authors of this species of literature, which constitutes
the sole apology that can be made for them. They do not set a
trap for the reader. They do not in a sly way entice him to
connect the book with its pretended author. They betray, as
they feel, no hesitation in assuming his name. On the contrary,
if the apostle John was not the author, it is difficult to escape the
conviction that an artful device is carried from the beginning to
the end of the book. The writer not only pretends to be the
apostle, but in order to succeed in this aim affects modesty. He
puts himself side by side with Peter, leans on the breast of Jesus,
goes to his sepulchre, stands before the cross, there to have the
mother of the Lord committed to his charge, but, in order to
mislead his readers more effectually, takes pains to avoid writing
the name of John, — except when he speaks of the Baptist —
whose usual title, however, he suppresses, — doing thus from cun
ning what John the apostle, being of the same name and a disciple
of the Baptist, might do naturally.
Then the Gospel is virtually an autobiography. — It professes
to tell the story of the origin and development of the author's
personal faith in Jesus as the divine Son of God. It is the grounds
of his own faith which he wishes to set forth, his purpose being
to inspire others with the same faith, or to confirm them in it.
After a short preface, a glowing avowal of the faith which had
brought joy to his soul, he enters upon the story of its genesis and
growth. Why not recount the very facts which were really the
source of this faith in his heart? Why betake himself to fables?
Did he imagine that the words and works of Christ, which had
decide. If the latter alternative is adopted, it is not difficult, since the dis
ciple had the Gospel in his hand, to account for his falling into a similar style,
and for his keeping up the designation of John as " the disciple whom Jesus
loved," etc., instead of speaking of him by name. But this question of the
authorship of the first twenty-three verses is one on which critics of all
schools are pretty evenly divided. There appears to be no good reason for
attributing the closing (twenty-fifth) verse to still another disciple. In the
twenty-fourth he speaks for the group of John's disciples — "we know," etc. ;
in the twenty-fifth he expresses an individual feeling.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 275
actually evoked faith in his own soul, required to be reenforced by
fiction?1
The fact of the personal love of the author of the Gospel to
Jesus appears irreconcilable with the supposition that the narra
tive is non-apostolic. It is evident that the author regards Jesus
with a warm personal affection. Whom does he love ? Is it an
unreal person, the offspring of philosophical speculation? The
person whom he loves is the historic Jesus. Of him he says,
" which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon,
and our hands have handled." 2 He is conscious that he had been
specially an object of the love of Jesus, — " the disciple whom
Jesus loved." To Jesus he is consciously united by the closest
tie of personal friendship. Did the author picture to himself a
character, and then, conceiving of him as an actual person who
had said and done what imagination had attributed to him, concen
trate on this ideal creation the heart's deepest love ?
Does not the tender simplicity which marks so many passages
of the narrative stamp them with the seal of truth ? The record
of the tears of Jesus on witnessing the sorrow of Mary and her
friends ; the saying that, as death approached, having loved
his disciples, "he loved them to the end" ; the pathetic words
"Behold thy mother," "Behold thy son," which were spoken
from the cross — is not the verity of these accounts evident of
itself?
It has frequently been urged that the catholic tone of the
author, and, in particular, his method of speaking of " the Jews "
as of an alien body, are not consistent with the character and
position of the apostle John. We must bear in mind, how
ever, that John is never represented in the apostolic history as a
Judaizer. He gave the right hand of fellowship to the apostle to
the Gentiles (Gal. ii. 9), and in the Jerusalem conference (Acts
xv.) he stands in the background. He is not writing at that
earlier time when the Jewish Christians were keeping up the
observances of the temple, and hoping for a vast influx of con
verts from their countrymen. The temple lay in ruins. The full
meaning of the Master, when he said, " In this place is one greater
1 See Lecture of Dr. T. Dwight, in Boston Lectures (1871).
2 I John i. I. The identity of authorship between the Epistle and the
Gospel, as we have said, is established not only by the tradition but by con
vincing internal evidence.
2/6 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
than the temple" (Matt. xii. 6), had been opened to his disciples
by the startling lessons of Providence and by the teaching of the
Spirit. The rejection of Jesus the Messiah by the mass of the
Jews, which long before had so deeply afflicted the apostle Paul,
was now a palpable fact. The bitter antipathy of the Jews to the
Church had broken out, as the Jewish war approached, in acts of
violence. At an earlier time persecution of the Jewish Christians
by the Jews is referred to by Paul (i Thess. ii. 14), and in the
Epistle to the Hebrews (x. 32-35). In the year 44, Herod
Agrippa I., a rigid Jew, had seized and killed John's own brother,
James. About a score of years later — Hegesippus places the
event just before the siege of Jerusalem by Vespasian — even
James the Just, the brother of Jesus, who had been least of all
obnoxious to Jewish zealots, was stoned to death by the fanatical
populace and their leaders. It is probable that it was on the eve
of the breaking out of the war with the Romans, that not only
John, but a company of disciples, including in their number one or
more of the other apostles, went to Asia. There, in the midst of
the Gentile churches, at Ephesus where Paul had previously
labored, the apostle John survived for many years. He must
have been in truth a dull spectator not to have discovered the
meaning of the events which made the significance of Christianity
and its real relation to the Old Testament religion and people as
clear as noonday. His must have been an obtuse mind indeed,
if, even independently of special enlightenment from above, what
Jesus had said respecting the spiritual and catholic nature of
true religion and of his kingdom had not been brought vividly
home to his recollection, and its import opened to his vision in
the light of the catastrophe which had demolished the Jewish
sanctuary and state, and of the implacable hostility which had
driven him and his fellow-disciples as outcasts into the bosom of
the churches that Paul had planted among the heathen.
What is the attitude of this Gospel toward the religion and the
people of the old covenant? Is mention made of "the Jews"? The
same phrase is on the lips of Paul, l whose ardent love to his country
men made him willing himself, were it possible, to perish for them.
The author of the fourth Gospel is a reverent believer in Moses and
the prophets (i. 47, iv. 22, x. 35). It is from his report that we are
informed of the pregnant words of Jesus, "Salvation is of the Jews"
1 Gal. i. 13, 14 : "the Jews' religion."
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 277
(iv. 22). Jesus is represented as having come to "his own" (i. 11).
The Jews were " his own " in a peculiar sense. Their refusal to receive
him is to the author's mind in the highest degree pathetic. If the
ecclesiastical tradition respecting the date of the Gospel and the place
and circumstances of its composition is not discarded, there is nothing
in the tone of the author to hinder us from believing that he was John
the apostle.
If the apostolic authorship of the fourth Gospel is to be dis
proved, it must be on the ground of countervailing evidence to be
gathered from other New Testament documents.
It has been insisted that the same author could not have written
both the Apocalypse and the Gospel. This is an objection which
merits candid attention. It is true that the differences in style,
and in the style of thought, between these two books are such
that both could hardly have been composed at the same time,
certainly not in the same mood of feeling. But if we suppose
altered circumstances and an interval of time, the case is different.
That an author who, under the passionate emotions roused in him
by the outburst of Jewish and heathen persecutions, in the mood
of prophetic exaltation, had written the Revelation, should com
pose, twenty or thirty years later, works like the Gospel and
the First Epistle, is not impossible. The cruelty of Nero may have
stirred up unrecorded outbreakings of persecution elsewhere. The
Tubingen critics erroneously attributed to the Apocalypse a judaizing
and anti-Pauline spirit. But the same critics themselves pointed out
marked affinities between the Gospel and the Apocalypse. Baur
even styled the Gospel a spiritualized (vergeistigte) Apocalypse.
In truth, in the book of Revelation there are no traces of Jewish
exclusiveness. A more careful exegesis disproves the imputation
of such a spirit. l It is remarkable that in the Revelation Ghrist is
called "the Word [Logos] of God" (Rev. xix. 13). Certainly
weight is to be attached to the statement of Irenaeus that the
Apocalypse appeared " in the end of Domitian's reign " ; 2 yet he
does not, as regards the question of the date, refer, as he does
concerning the authorship of the Gospel, to personal testimonies.
For the earlier date, the age of Nero, there arc not wanting strong
internal proofs.3 By not a few writers who favor the later date for
the book in its present form, but regard it as a composite work,
1 On this topic, see Hort, Judaistic Christianity, p. 190.
2 Adv. //<ZT., v. 30, 3. 3 See Rev. xi. I seq., xvii. 9—11.
2/8 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the force of this evidence and the earlier date of important
portions, or of the nucleus, of it are admitted.1
The many instances of a mistaken rejection, on internal grounds,
of the tradition of authorship in the case of literary works cer
tainly afford a needed lesson of caution to critics. One striking
instance may be adduced as an example. Dr. Edward Zeller,
a son-in-law of Baur, was one of the ablest expositors and de
fenders of his theological positions, including the "entweder —
oder," or the dilemma which was insisted on, that either the Apoc
alypse or the Gospel, one or the other, is not the production of
the apostle John. Zeller, in his earlier work on Greek philosophy,
the Platonische Studien, maintained that " Leges" is not a genuine
writing of Plato. This he did on the basis of both style and con
tents, and on very plausible grounds, notwithstanding that its
genuineness is attested by Aristotle.2 But Zeller, in his able work,
Die Philosophic d. Griechenf retreats from this positive opinion.
He suggests that if it could be believed that the " Leges " were a
work of Plato, unfinished by him, but worked over and filled out
by a pupil, the difficulty would be lessened — a conception, by the
way, very like one of the hypotheses respecting the fourth Gospel.
But the difficulty, he still feels, would not be removed. In the
later edition, however, of the same work, Zeller, finding the testi
mony of Aristotle and other considerations of too great weight,
retracts altogether his earlier contention, and accepts the " Laws "
1 See Harnack, Chronologie, etc., vol. i. p. 245 ; Briggs, The Messiah of the
Apostles, ch. ix. p. 303. Dr. Briggs ascribes to the apostle John " the apocalypse
of the epistles of the seven churches and all matter related thereto." "On this
view," says Professor Stevens (i.e. the view that the book is the growth of
successive contributions), "the apostle might well have compiled and pub
lished one or more editions of it." "By this theory the phenomena which
favor an earlier, and those which favor a later, date could be accounted for
as well as the apparent combination of Jewish and Christian elements" (77ie
77ieology of the New Testament, pp. 526, 527). Professor F. C. Porter, in the
learned article, "Revelation, Book of," in Hastings' Dictionary of the Bible,
favors the later date for the book in its present compass.
Professor Ramsay, who is of the same opinion, comparing the Apocalypse
with the Gospel and First Epistle of John, judges that " there is a closer rela
tion between the three works than exists between them and any fourth
work" {The Church in the Roman Empire, p. 303).
2 Some of the characteristics of the "Laws," in contrast with those of the
other Dialogues, are described in Jowett's translation of Plato, vol. iv., Intro
duction. 3 xn_ j> § 24.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 279
as the genuine production of Plato in his later life. Panaetius, a
noted Stoic philosopher at Athens, went so far as to reject the
Phaedon as not being the work of Plato. He admired Plato,
but disbelieving in the immortality of the soul, he thought that the
main proposition and the arguments of this Dialogue are un
worthy of the philosopher to whom it is ascribed. Then, as Grote
observes, he was probably influenced by a singularity in the Phae-
don — it being the only dialogue in which the author mentions
himself in the third person,1 — a point, it may be remarked, in
which the Phaedon resembles the fourth Gospel. As to the rejec
tion of the " Laws," on internal grounds, Grote says : " There are
few dialogues in the list against which stronger objections on inter
nal grounds can be brought than against Leges and Menexenus. Yet
both of them stand authenticated, beyond all reasonable dispute, as
genuine works of Plato, not merely by the canon of Thrasyllus,
but also by the testimony of Aristotle." 5 Grote adds that consid
ering Plato's long period of philosophic composition and our
limited knowledge of the circumstances of his life, " it is surely
hazardous to limit the range of his varieties, on the faith of a
critical repugnance not merely subjective and fallible, but withal
of entirely modern growth." 3
How many readers with no knowledge of the author save what
the style of the books permit would say that Carlyle's Life of
Schiller (1823-24) and translation of Wilhelm Meister (1824)
could be from the same pen as Sartor Resartus (1833-34) and
Life of Frederick (1858-65) ?
We have now to test the character of the fourth Gospel by a
more detailed scrutiny of its contents. We have seen that accord
ing to this theory, of which Baur was the most eminent sponsor,
this Gospel was the development of a theological idea, fervently
cherished by the unknown author, yet appropriated by him from
Alexandrian sources and interwoven by him both with imaginary
teachings of Jesus and with allegorical facts likewise imaginary.
The first question is whether the narrative portions of the Gospel
furnish a proof for this theory. Not to dwell on the strain which
is required in so many instances to match the allegory to the
narrative, the theory is confuted by the abundant evidences of a
distinct historical feeling and point of view on the part of the
1 Crete's Plato, i. 158. 2 Ibid., p. 209. 3 Ibid., p. 201.
28O THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
writer. No critic has shown this more effectively than Renan,
despite his a priori incredulity in respect to everything that par
takes of the miraculous.1
Before citing some of his observations, certain of the indirect indica
tions that the Evangelist speaks from personal recollection may be
pointed out. "And it was at Jerusalem at the feast of the dedication,
and it was winter. And Jesus walked in the temple in Solomon's
porch " (x. 22, 23) . Why should it be mentioned that Jesus was in this
porch? Nothing in the context called for it. How account for its
being mentioned except on the supposition that the scene was pictured
in the author's memory? Stating this fact, he must needs explain to
heathen readers why Jesus walked in this sheltered place : " it was
winter." The festival occurred in December. When Mary anointed
the feet of Jesus, "the house was filled with the odor of the ointment"
(xii. 3).'2 A similar personal, reminiscence is in John viii. 20. The
brazen chests constituting the " treasury " the author had seen. The
image of Jesus as he stood near them was stamped on his memory. Why
should he refer to " ^non," where John was baptizing, as being " near
to Salim " (iii. 23) ? Why should he describe the pool at Jerusalem
as being by the sheep-gate, as called in the Hebrew " Bethesda," and as
having five porches (v. 2)? Why give the number of porches?
Chronological statements, some of them defining not only the day but
the hour, are frequent. They come in, not as if they had been picked
up to be wrought in, but as a spontaneous reminiscence. " It was about
the tenth hour" (i. 39): "For John was not yet cast into prison"
(iii. 24) — these are examples. For what reason is Philip designated
(xii. 21 ) as "of Bethsaida of Galilee," when the connected incident
does not call for any such local specification? What reason is there
for adding to the statement that Pilate sat down in his judgment-seat
the remark that the place " is called the Pavement, but in the Hebrew,
Gabbatha " ? What can this be but an instance of local description, natu
ral in referring to a spot where a man has witnessed a memorable event?
What reason for the mention of the visit of Jesus to Capernaum (John
ii. n), save as a personal reminiscence?3
Renan is often struck with marks of historical verity in the Gospel.
"Whence come particulars, so exact, upon Philip, upon the country
of Andrew and Peter, and especially about Nathanael ? Nathanael
1 Vie de Jesus, I3th ed. Appendice.
2 In the account of a landing of certain passengers from the Mayflower before
the whole company disembarked at Plymouth, it is said that while on the land
they filled their boat with juniper. The writer says of the juniper, it "smelled
very sweet and strong" and " we burnt the most part of it while we lay there "
— a feature in the description which shows of itself that he was one of them.
3 See Appendix, Note 17, p. 412.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 281
belongs to this Gospel alone. I cannot regard traits so precise which
pertain to him, as inventions originating a hundred years after the time
of Jesus and far away from Palestine. If he is a symbolic personage,
why does the writer take the trouble to inform us that he is of Cana
of Galilee, a city which the Evangelist appears to be particularly well
acquainted with ? " " Why should our Evangelist speak repeatedly
of Cana of Galilee, a small city, extremely obscure? Why should he
want to create, too late, a celebrity for this little borough, which
certainly semi-Gnostic Christians of Asia Minor had no motive for
remembering?11
The whole passage from ch. i. to ch. iv. 2 appears to Renan to
be stamped with tokens of historical truth. He mentions specially
the topographical references. Of ch. iv. 3-6, he does not hesi
tate to say that " none but a Jew of Palestine who had often passed
to the entrance of the Valley of Sychem could have written this."
"The verses vii. i-io are a little historical treasure. ... It is
here that the symbolic and dogmatic explanation is completely at fault.
. . . After this, how can it be said that the personages of the fourth
Gospel are types, invented characters, and not living beings in flesh
and blood?1'
Renan adds — so impressed is he with the verisimilitude of this
account — that the fourth Gospel is above the Synoptics " in the
evidences afforded of a history and narrative which aim to be exact."
Notwithstanding his ingrained disbelief in miracles, he finds unmis
takable marks of truth in the Johannean narrative of the relations
of Jesus to the sisters of Bethany. Despite the record of the rais
ing of Lazarus, Renan perceives in the entire closing portion of the
fourth Gospel, the whole story of the betrayal and passion included,
particular marks of accuracy which are superior to such as are
found in the Synoptics. The omission by the Synoptics of a notice
of the miracle of the raising of Lazarus is incidental to the passing
over by them of the interval between the Galilean labors of Jesus
and the last festival which he attended at Jerusalem.1
Could it be shown that the various parts of the Gospel nar
rative are artificial, or plainly improbable, its genuineness might
be disproved. But interpretations of Baur and of others who
agree with him on the main question, by which this is sought to
be done, are too often forced upon the text.
1 " The silence of the Synoptics in regard to the episode at Bethany does
not make much of an impression on me. The Synoptics had a very poor
knowledge of all that immediately preceded the last week of Jesus. It is not
282 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
What, for example, can be more groundless than the opinion of
many critics, from Baur to Keim, that, according to this Gospel, Jesus
was not baptized? It is strange that any reader, with John i. 32, 33
before him, could ever impute to the Evangelist such an intent. How,
it might be added, could the author, whoever he was, expect to destroy
the established belief of Christians in a fact like this, embedded as it
was in the Gospel tradition ? If he were rash enough to set about such
a task, how could he hope to succeed by merely omitting to make an
explicit record of the circumstance? It was one of the suggestions of
the Tubingen critics, in which they have been much followed, that
Nicodemus is a person invented to serve as a type of unbelieving, sign-
seeking Judaism. Why, then, should he be depicted as attaining more
and more faith (iii. 2, vii. 50, xix. 39)? The Samaritan woman, on the
contrary, is said to have been created as a type of the believing heathen.
With such a design, why was not an actual heathen chosen to play this
part, instead of a Samaritan who believed in Moses and was looking for
the Messiah ? l But into the details of exegesis it is impracticable here
to enter.2
simply the incident [the miracle] at Bethany that is wanting with them ; it
is the whole period of the life of Jesus with which this incident is connected.
One comes back always to this fundamental point : The question is, Which of
the two systems is true, that which makes Galilee the exclusive theatre of the
activity of Jesus, or that which makes Jesus pass a part of his life at Jerusa
lem ?" Of the symbolical explication of the miracle, Renan says : "It is in
my judgment erroneous. . . . Our Gospel [the fourth] is not in the least
(nullemenf) symbolical." — Vie de Jesus, I3th ed., pp. 507, 508.
The miracle at Bethany was not the cause of the crucifixion ; it only led
the enemies of Jesus to make haste. Therefore it furnished the Synoptists no
special motive for stepping beyond the lines of their narratives. Indepen
dently of this event, the animosity of the priests and Pharisees had previously
risen to a pitch which made them ready to strike the final blow. Their
anxiety as to what would be the influence of the miracle (John xi. 47, 48)
simply quickened their steps. The miracle itself in its nature differs not from
the instances of raising the dead which are recorded by the Synoptists, for we
need not suppose here, any more than in those instances, the absolute discon
nection of soul and body.
1 The suggestion that the five husbands of the Samaritan woman symbolize
the five heathen forms of Samaritan worship — in which case her paramour
would be spoken of as a symbol of Jehovah ! — is itself a freak of fancy.
When it is said that the " disciples had gone away into the city to buy
food," it is a strained construction to infer that they all went, leaving Jesus
quite alone. If it was John who remained with him, he had no need to be
informed of these particulars.
2 For a particular examination of Baur's exegesis of the Gospel, see Bey-
schlag (ut supra} ; also Bruckner's notes to De Wette's Kurze Erkl. d. Evang.
Johann., and Fisher's The Supernatural Origin of Christianity 3d ed.,
pp. 132 seq.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 283
Critics of the class here referred to have said that the author of
this Gospel attaches no value to miracles, setting them up, so to
speak, merely to bowl them down. This is an error. As he looks
back upon the Saviour's life, he sees the glory of the Son of God
in his superhuman works of power and mercy. That which is
rebuked in the Gospel is the disposition to see nothing in the
miracles except that which excites wonder or ministers to some lower
want, instead of discerning their deeper suggestion. Unbelief, even
when not denying that they were wrought, failed to look through
them. They were a language the import of which was not divined.
They were opaque facts. Hence the Jews called for more and
more. They clamored for something more stupendous. They
must have a " sign from heaven." This is the view taken of
miracles in the fourth Gospel. There is not even a remote hint
that they are not actual occurrences. The narrator does not
stultify himself in this way.
In every instance where Baur appeals to exegesis in support of his
idea of the Evangelist's intent in this matter, he is confuted upon closer
attention to the passage in hand. For example, when Jesus said,
" Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed" (xx. 29) ?
there is, to be sure, an allusion to the reluctance of Thomas to believe
without seeing; but to believe what? Why, the miracle of the resur
rection, to which the other apostles had testified in his hearing. This
was the object of faith. Not on faith independent of miracles, but on
faith not dependent on one's own ocular perception of them, Jesus pro
nounces his blessing.
And here it may be observed that there is no kind of miracle,
none calling for the exertion of any species or degree of power,
which has not its parallel in the Synoptics. In Mark, Jesus stills
the tempest (ch. v.), feeds the multitude (chs. vi., viii.), and raises
the dead (ch. v.).
From the historical character and the spirit of the Gospel, we
turn to the second branch of this inquiry, its theological aspect.
It is contended by Baur and numerous later critics that the con
ception of the Word (Logos) in the Gospel is appropriated from
the Alexandrian Judaism of Philo, and is the idea which gives form
and color to its doctrinal contents. These two propositions are
really the main fortress on which they rely. Neither of them can be
sustained. The structure of which they furnish the materials is,
therefore, untenable.
284 THE GROUNDS OF THETSTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
The term " Logos " in the Jewish theology is of Palestinian origin.
In the Old Testament this Word as an abstraction has divine attri
butes attached to it.1 The " Word " is personified.'2 It is spoken of
as an instrument of creation.3 " By the word of the Lord were the
heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of his mouth."
''He spake, and the light came into being.114 He "spake11 unto Moses
and the prophets. In the Jewish Targums — which in their present
form, to be sure, are not earlier than the third century, materials of
which, however, go back to the apostolic age — the Word is personal.
In the Book of Proverbs, Wisdom is personified and described as taking
part in the work of creation, being the first creature of God and the typi
cal source of hiunati wisdom. In the Old Testament apocryphal books,
the Son of Sirach, the author of the original of which was a Hebrew of
Palestinian birth, and especially in the Wisdom of Solomon, Wisdom is
personified in a still more vivid way. In the former book, Wisdom is
made to say, " I came out of the mouth of the Most High and covered
the earth as a cloud " ; 5 " He created [or preserved] me from the be
ginning before thy world.11 6 The Lord is said to have commanded
Wisdom to make her abode in Israel.7
The roots of Philo's conception of the Logos were in these Old
Testament and apocryphal sources.
But with Philo, along with what was drawn from the wisdom
literature, were commingled kindred conceptions of the Logos,
derived from Plato, and especially from Stoic teaching. In the
prologue of the Gospel, there is nothing that might not have been
drawn from Palestinian sources earlier than the apocryphal books
referred to. Certain points of resemblance to Philo's teaching
may thus be accounted for. But the points of difference from
Philo are fundamental.
In the Gospel, the Logos is personal. Not so in Philo. The current
of his teaching is of an opposite tenor, and these passages admit of an in
terpretation consistent with what, generally speaking, is plainly his view.8
In Philo, Logos usually signifies the Platonic idea of reason. In the
1 Ps. xxiii. 4 ; cxix. 89 ; cv. ; Is. xl. 8.
2 Ps. cvii. 20 ; cxlvii. 15 ; xviii. ; Is. Iv. II. 4 Gen. i. 6 Ch. xxiv. 3.
3 Ps. xxxiii. 6. 5 Ch. xxiv. 3. 7 Ibid., v. 8.
8 See Drummond, The Alexandrian Philosophy of Philo ; Dorner, Ent-
wickelungsgesch. d. Lehre d. Person Christi, vol. i. pp. 19, 20 seq. The utmost
that can be claimed is that Philo shows a tendency to personalize the Logos.
But this was not peculiar to Philo or to Alexandria. See Sanday (in review
of Schiirer), 77te Expositor, 1892, p. 286. Nor is the Logos in Philo eternal,
nor even divine, save from the human point of view.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 285
Gospel, this conception does not appear. Once more — and this contra
riety is vital — the central thought of the prologue of the Gospel — that
of the Incarnation of the Logos — is in conflict with the philosophy of
Philo. His system is dualistic. In it matter is alien to the Deity. Noth
ing could clash more directly with the system of Philo than the Declara
tion of the Evangelist, "the Logos became flesh " (i. 41). The Judaic
gnosticism in which the Incarnation was merely apparent, a temporary
connection of the divine Logos with the man Jesus, was the logical out
come of the Philonian speculation. Cerinthus carried out the dualistic
theory. He taught that the heavenly Christ joined himself to Jesus at
his baptism, but forsook him at the passion. It was Cerinthus, who
probably began his career at Alexandria, against whom, it is stated by
Irenaeus, the apostle John wrote.
It is possible that the use of the term " Logos " by the Evangelist
was owing, or partly owing, to its having become familiar in cur
rent talk, which in some measure was traceable to the school of
Philo. This is a question of minor consequence. The important
fact is that, instead of borrowing from Philo the contents of the
conception, his sources are Biblical, and whatever is non-Biblical
in the Alexandrian idea is absent.
It is an eloquent fact that the beginning and end of the statements
concerning the Logos are in the few verses of the prologue. It
does not appear in the teachings of Jesus that follow. However,
and for whatever reason, the designation may have been selected,
the idea the Evangelist derives from the impression made
by Jesus and by his testimony respecting himself. The confident
assertion, often as it is made, that the prologue and theology of
the Gospel are of Alexandrian origin, is not supported by the
evidence.1 The verdict of ecclesiastical history is decisively
against it.
The following are observations of Harnack : —
"The reference to Philc and Hellenism does not avail in the least to
explain satisfactorily even the external side of the problem. No Greek
speculations respecting the divine nature have had an influence in the
Johannean theology. Even the Logos has little more in common with
the Philonian Logos than the name." It is " out of the old faith of
1 Tn favor of a predominant influence of Philo in the Gospel are : Reville,
Jestis de Nazareth, vol. i. pp. 336 seq. ; Weizsacker, Das Apostol. Zeitalter, 2d
ed., p. 1531 ; Holtzmann, Lehrbuch d. N. T. 77ieologie, vol. ii. pp. 368 seq.
Also Aal, Der Logos (1886, 1889), and Grill, Untersuchh. u. d. Ensteh. d. 4ten
Evangel. (1902).
286 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
prophets and apostles" that "the apostolic testimony concerning Christ
has created a new faith in one who lived among Greeks. . . . Even
this proves incontestably that the author, despite pronounced anti-
Judaism, must be regarded as being a born Jew."
"The prologue,1' Harnack proceeds to say, "is not the key to the
understanding of the Gospel, but it prepares in advance the Hellenic
readers for the understanding of it. It makes a connection with a great
conception, that of the Logos, with which they were acquainted, remoulds
and transforms it — by implication combating false Christologies — in
order to substitute for it Jesus Christ, the only begotten God (/xovo-
•yevr;? ^eos), or to unveil the Logos as being this Jesus Christ.
The moment this is done the Logos conception is dropped. The
author speaks in the narrative only of Jesus, with the purpose to estab
lish the faith that he is the Messiah, the Son of God. This faith has
for its chief element the recognition that Jesus comes forth (stammf)
from God and from heaven ; but the author is far from attempting to
produce this recognition in a philosophical way, by cosmological views.
It is on the ground of his testimony respecting himself, and because he
has brought the full knowledge of God and Life — brought absolutely
super-terrestrial, divine blessings (G'uter) — that Jesus, according to the
Evangelist, shows himself to be the Messiah, the Son of God." l "I
believe," says the same author, " that I am right in asserting that it
would never have occurred to any one to identify the Johannean Christ
with the Alexandrian or with any personified divine Logos, if this iden
tification had not been made in the prologue." *
Another master in the field of church history, Professor Loofs,
writes thus : —
" It is no matter where the word i Logos,' used by John, may have
come from. Of what was possible on Palestinian ground, too little in
connection with this question, in my opinion, has been said : compare
Son of Sirach xxiv. not only with John i. 1-18, but also with viii. 37 seq.
and xv. i seq.'1'1 Loofs shows that with John the Logos conception is
not connected with philosophical thoughts. His idea is that "in
Christ the Word of God which called the world into being and all along
has been the life and light of men, has become a human person ; that
Christ not only brings God's Word, he is it ; he is the God become
visible and apprehensible (John i. 14; i John i. i).3
1 Harnack, Dogmengeschichte, 30! ed., p. 93.
2 Zeitschr.fur Theol. u. Kirche, vol. i. 2, p. 21 1.
3 Real Encykl. d. Theol. u. Kirche, 3d. ed., vol. iv. p. 29 (art. " Christo-
logie").
Dr. E. A. Abbott (in the art. " Gospels," Encycl. Brit., vol. x.) traces various
passages in John to Philo. But why go so far, when the Old Testament fur-
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 287
An English scholar, as eminent for his candor as for his learning,
speaking of the essential harmony of the conception of the person of
Christ in John with the doctrine of Paul and with the conception in the
Epistle to the Hebrews, remarks, "We can well understand how
almost any strong wind might blow in the direction of the apostle
[John] the one luminous word for which we may suppose him to be
seeking."1
The preexistence of Christ and his cosmical relation, his agency
in the creation, are plainly taught in i Cor. viii. 6 ; 2 Cor. viii. 9 ;
Phil. ii. 6. Scepticism respecting the Pauline authorship of the
Colossians and Ephesians is steadily giving way under the weight
of evidence for their genuineness. In these writings, in Colossians
especially, the exaltation of Christ and his brdad, universal rela
tion are set forth, to serve as an antidote to a Judaizing theosophy
with which was connected a worship of angels. Certain passages
in Colossians and Ephesians have suggested that the Evangelist
was not unacquainted with the apostle Paul's teaching. But there
nishes abundant materials suggestive of the imagery which is contained in
every passage to which Dr. Abbot refers ? The Evangelist's account of the
visit of the Samaritan woman to the well (ch. iv.) is said to remind us of
Philo's contrast between Hagar at the well and Rebekah {Posterity of Cain,
xli.). Why, then, does the Evangelist make the woman carry a pitcher, like
Rebekah, while in Philo one point of the contrast is that she carries a
" leathern bag " ? The reader who will consult an English concordance
under the words "well," "wells," "water," "waters," "living water," "foun
tain," "fountains," "drink," will see how much closer the parallels are be
tween John iv. and the Old Testament than between that chapter and Philo.
For example, for "wells of salvation," see Isa. xii. 2 ; compare Prov. x. n,
xvi. 22, xviii. 4. For "fountain of living water," see Jer. ii. 13; compare
Isa. Iviii. 1 1 ; Jer. xvii. 13 ; Cant. iv. 15. See also Rev. xxi. 6, which will not
be attributed to Philo. "Ye drink ; but ye are not filled with drink" (Hag.
i. 6). As for the figurative use of "bread," the suggestions in the Old Testa
ment are numerous. For the expression " bread of heaven," see Ps. cv. 40 ;
compare Ps. Ixxviii. 15, 1 6, 20.
1 Professor Sanday, The Expositor (1892), p. 287. McGiffert judges cor
rectly {Apostolic Age, p. 488, n. 2) : " Aside from the term ' Logos,' which is
confined to the prologue, there is no trace of Philo's term ' Logos.' In fact
there is more than one passage which runs exactly counter to all Philo's
thinking (cf., e.g., vi. 37, 44, 66, x. 29). In the light of this fact, the use of
the term ' Logos ' proves little. It was doubtless already widely current in
Hellenistic circles, and the author adopted it and put it in the fore part of his
Gospel, simply because he was convinced that all that his contemporaries
found in the Logos, he and his fellow-disciples actually had in Christ in visible
form."
288 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
is no such resemblance between the Gospel and the Pauline
Epistles as to imply that the Evangelist was dependent for his
doctrine upon the apostle. Nothing is more precarious than
inferences of this sort drawn from phraseology in which " light "
furnishes a basis for metaphor.
It is the union of the independence of the Gospel with its unsought
harmony with the theology of Paul that is an impressive fact This
appears, not only in the conception of the person of Christ, but in
various other particulars. John teaches that "life" begins here, in the
knowledge of God and of his Son (John iii. 36; i John v. 12). Life
inseparable from fellowship with Christ is the truth on which emphasis
is laid. Judgment is here : the gospel does its own work of separation
by testing and revealing the affinities of the heart ; yet the objective,
atoning work of Christ is not ignored, nor is the resurrection and the
final awards (John iii. 14, 15, v. 28, 29; i John i. 7, ii. 2). Paul con
nects the breaking down of the wall of separation between Jew and
Gentile with the death of Christ (Gal. iii. 13, 14). In remarkable har
mony with this conception are the words of Jesus when he was informed
(John xii. 20 seq^) that Greeks who had come up to the passover de
sired to see him. It was a sign to him that his hour had come. The
corn of wheat, in order not to " abide alone," but that it might bear
fruit, must " fall into the ground and die."
In the forefront of the Gospel stands the announcement, " The
Word became flesh." To support the groundless opinion that to
the Evangelist the incarnation was a circumstance of no account,
a Docetic junction of the Logos with the man Jesus, Baur erro
neously makes the verses 9-14 refer to the preexistent word.
They refer to the incarnate Christ. The unprejudiced reader of
the Gospel cannot fail to perceive that it is the historic Jesus, as
he had lived, taught, consorted with his disciples, hung upon the
cross, and risen from the tomb, on whom the attention of the Evan
gelist centres. " The prevalence, nay, the ubiquity, of the Messi
anic idea is the key to the motive of the narrative." This truth is
illustrated, fully and ably, by Harnack.1
" As strongly," says Loofs, " as the deity of Christ is emphasized in
the Gospel of John, as indubitably as Christ appears as a preexistent
subject (i. 14, viii. 58, xvii. 5), even so without reserve is Christ called
a man (viii. 40, x. 33, xi. 47, 50). The narrative tells of his becoming
tired and thirsting (iv. 61), of his weeping (xi. 35), of his being troubled
in spirit (xii. 37), of his brothers (vii. 3), of his solicitude for his
1 See the references above.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 289
mother (xix. 16 seq.} ; yea, the Evangelist even lets him speak of his
God and our God (xx. 17). From all Docetism is the Gospel as far
as possible removed (cf. i John iv. 3). Even by the corpse the Evan
gelist in the most solemn manner authenticates the reality of the cor
poreal manifestation of the Lord (xix. 34).1'1 Loofs differentiates
this view from the " caricature of the Johannean theology " by Holtzman,
Pfleiderer, and others.
The plea that the type of doctrine in the fourth Gospel is an
a priori construction on the basis of an abstract idea, borrowed
from Alexandrian Jewish philosophy, has no foothold.
The argument on the side adverse to the genuineness of the
Gospel, so far as its contents are concerned, must rest, if it has a
resting-place anywhere, on the alleged inconsistency of the
Johannean history of Jesus with the Synoptical narratives.
In the first place, the argument professes or implies a misjudg-
ment respecting the Synoptic Gospels. They make no claim to be
full biographies, and manifestly this character does not belong to
them. They are made up of materials — partly of short sayings and
parables — that would most easily lodge in the memory and be
transmitted orally. As far as incidents in distinction from teaching
are concerned, the current critical opinion accepts Mark as one of
the principal sources. It was made use of by the first and the third
Evangelists. It is obvious that this document is an invaluable
sketch, but still a bare sketch, of the ground which it covers. It
is an account at second-hand, not the writing of an apostle. Why
should it be assumed that the second Gospel is to be the gauge
for determining what credit shall be given to the fourth ? That it
was written first warrants no such inference. Prior to an investi
gation of the contents of the two sources, the fourth, to say the
least, has a claim to equal confidence. Until the tradition of the
Church has been disproved, the precedence belongs to its author
as being an intimate follower of Jesus. Even if, as some main
tain, a non-apostolic author who was a disciple of John supple
mented and edited the apostle's writing, this author stands on a
level with Mark. Not a few critics, when the origin and credibil
ity of the fourth Gospel are under discussion, assume at the start
for the Synoptics a precedence as authorities which is not justified
by the canons of historical criticism.
Our second remark pertains to the relation of the Synoptics to
1 Realencykl. fur prot. Theol. u. A', ed. 3, vol. iv. p. 29.
u
2QO THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
one another. The circumstance that Mark's Gospel is thought to
have been one of the principal sources of the narrative matter in
Matthew and in Luke, is fallaciously used to lessen comparatively
the credit of these two authorities. Mark is cited by not a few as
" the oldest authority," and the contents of his Gospel as " the
earliest tradition," — only the Logia of Matthew being older. But
there is nothing to oblige us to suppose that the narrative matter
in Luke (for example) which Mark does not contain, is from any
" later " source than Mark's narrative. The long passage which
belongs to Luke exclusively, from ch. ix. 51 to ch. xviii. 14,
embraces materials as trustworthy and as " early " (if we look at
the sources whence Luke derived them) as the accounts given
by Mark. We know that Mark does not record the greater part of
the sayings of Jesus which were in the Logia of Matthew. There is
no doubt that he omitted to gather up much more besides, which
another inquirer, like Luke, might have ascertained from "eye
witnesses and ministers of the word." To reject historical ac
counts, therefore, or summarily to set them on a lower footing,
merely because they are not comprised in an historical sketch as
brief as that of Mark, is quite without warrant. Forthwith to
assign additional circumstances, or variations of statement, in a
parallel account of Matthew or of Luke, to a "second" or later
evangelic tradition, is frequently, to say the least, to build upon
imagination rather than logic. The amount of detail in an his
torical document is no sure criterion of its age.
In the third place, it is clear that, on the supposition of the
apostolic authorship of the fourth Gospel, a certain subjective ele
ment is perceptible in its contents. Imagine that an aged dis
ciple, who has long been in the habit of musing on the doings and
the sayings of Jesus, undertakes to set down his reminiscences.
Might he not be spontaneously led to tell the tale in his own lan
guage? Would it be strange if it were to be tinged with a hue
imparted by his own meditations? Should it even occasion sur
prise if, here and there, in his recalling of what Christ said, there
were to mingle, without advertisement to the reader, an explana
tory comment? This suggestion does not imply that the Gospel
resembles even remotely that species of biography (or autobiogra
phy) which goes under the name of Dichtung und Wahrhcit —
wherein truth and poesy are of set purpose indistinguishably
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 29 1
blended. We are only required to assume that the acts and words
of the Master are steeped, rather than mechanically held, in the
memory of the devoted disciple. Moreover, the effect of conden
sation, the signs of which are sometimes apparent to the reader,
must be taken into account. It need not occasion surprise if in New
Testament narratives the ancient habit of using the oratio recta
in reports of discourses and conversation should be exemplified.
The longer ministry of Jesus — extending to at least two years
and a half, and probably to three years and a half — and his
extended labors in Judaea are prominent features with the fourth
Evangelist. But the Evangelist's representation of the life and
ministry of Christ, although independent, is not in conflict with
that of the Synoptics. The " country " of Jesus, it is to be
observed, is still Galilee; for this is the right interpretation of
John iv. 44. What the Galileans had seen him do in Jerusalem
excited in Galilee, on his return, an interest in him not manifested
before. Luke, in the long passage relating to the last journey of
Jesus to Jerusalem (ix. 51 to xviii. 14), brings together matter of
which a portion appears to have its place in the Judsean ministry.
Independently of such particulars as the relation of Christ to the
family of Mary and Martha, the lament of Jesus over Jerusalem
(Luke xiii. 34 seq. ; Matt, xxiii. 37 seq.) requires us to assume
that he had frequently taught there. " How often," — these words
in this lament must have included more than one short visit. The
apostrophe plainly refers to the city, not to the Jewish people as a
whole, to whom Baur, and not he alone, would arbitrarily apply it.
In Luke, the preceding verse reads, " For it cannot be that a
prophet perish out of Jerusalem" This passage establishes on
the authority of the Synoptics the fact of the longer Judsean min
istry of Jesus, and so endorses the testimony of the fourth Gospel
in this important particular. Luke (vi. i) distinctly implies the
intervention of at least one passover after the beginning and before
the close of his public life. The deep and abiding impression
made by Jesus is far less a mystery if we accept the chronology of
the fourth Gospel than if we conceive his activity to have been
confined to about a twelvemonth. The truth appears to be, that
in the early oral narration of the life and teaching of Christ,
perhaps for the reason that his labors in Jerusalem and the neigh
borhood were already more familiar to the Christians there, it was
mainly the Galilean ministry that was described. The matter was
2Q2 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
massed under the three general heads of his baptism and inter
course with John the Baptist, his work in Galilee, and the visit to
Jerusalem at the passover, when he was crucified.
If the author of the fourth Gospel was not John, but a disciple of the
apostle, or if he was some other immediate disciple of Jesus himself,
no explanation can be given for the assumed erroneous chronology.
The author, whoever he was, could easily have brought Jesus more, fre
quently into conflict with the Pharisees, if that were his purpose, in
other places than in Judaea. He might have interposed visits between
the two passovers. Why should he set up a false chronological scheme
which could only tend to arouse suspicion? The writer, whoever he
was, was evidently acquainted with one, if not all, of the earlier Gos
pels.1 Why did he not set his new portrait into the old frame ? It is
reasonable to think that it was because he was conversant with the
facts, and consciously had such an acknowledged authority in the
Church that he had no reason to fear contradiction.
The cleansing of the temple (John ii. 13 seq.) is connected in
the Synoptics with the last passover, this being the only passover
with which, in their scheme of chronology, it could be placed.
The cleansing of the temple may well have occurred at the time
assigned to it in the fourth Gospel. The booths of " the sons of
Annas " had become a scandal among the Jews. His feeling re
specting the temple, even in childhood, had been expressed in
his question to his parents, " Wist ye not that I must be in my
Father's House?" (Luke i. 49). The holy indignation prompting
to the expulsion of the money-changers, this outbreaking of pro
phetic energy, would naturally stifle any disposition to resist him.
The impression just made on the people at large by the vehement
rebukes of John the Baptist would have a like effect. Renan sees
this to be probable.
Another subject of comparison between the fourth Gospel and
the Synoptics relates to the day of the month when Christ was
crucified. Was the Friday of the crucifixion the izLth, or the i5th,
of the month Nisan? And was the Last Supper on the usual day
of the passover meal, or on the evening before ? Many scholars
are of opinion that here is a discrepancy between the fourth Evan
gelist and the other three ; that he, unlike them, makes the Last
Supper to have occurred on the evening prior to the day on which
the passover lamb was killed and eaten, and the crucifixion to
have taken place on the next morning. Bleek, Neander, Weiss,
1 See, e.g., John iii. 24.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 293
Westcott, Ellicott, and numerous others, admit the discrepancy,
but argue in support of the accuracy of the fourth Gospel in this
particular.1 Some of the proofs are drawn from incidental re
marks by the Synoptists themselves, and from the anterior proba
bility, since the passover itself was a sacred festival. On the other
hand, it has been contended that the author of the fourth Gospel
purposely misdated these events in order to make the crucifixion
synchronize with the slaying of the paschal lamb, his intent being
to instil the idea that the passover is superseded by the offering of
Christ, " the Lamb of God." If the discrepancy really exists, it
furnishes no ground for ascribing the inaccuracy to the fourth Gos
pel. The motive assigned by the Tubingen school for the alleged
falsification of the date is insufficient. In the first place, if the
author of the Gospel had wanted to exhibit Christ as the antitype
of the paschal lamb, he had no need to alter the received chronol
ogy. Christ is termed by Paul "our passover" (i Cor. v. 7).
In the second place, it is not certain even that the Evangelist in
tends to ascribe this character to Christ. The appellation " Lamb
of God" may have been taken, not from Ex. xxix. 38 seq.,
but from Isa. liii. 7. It is more probable that the passage
quoted by the Evangelist, " A bone of him shall not be broken "
(xix. 36), is cited from Ps. xxxiv. 20 than from the law rela
tive to the paschal offering (Ex. xii. 46; Num. ix. i2).2 Had
the Evangelist thought that the minute identification of Jesus with
the paschal lamb was so very important that he would venture to
set up a false date in the teeth of the received Gospels, he would
have been likely to make the parallelism plain to the reader. He
would not have been content with a very obscure suggestion. The
author of the Gospel, whoever he was, was a devout believer in
Jesus. How, then, could he himself have thought it a vital matter
that Christ, as the antetype of the paschal lamb, should die on the
1 4th of Nisan, if he knew that it was not the fact?
The Quartodeciman observance in Asia Minor is a topic closely con
nected with the foregoing. That was on the i4th of Nisan. But what
fourth Gospel was thought to agree with the Synoptics by Dr. E.
Robinson, Wieseler, Tholuck, Norton ; Keil, Komtn. uber das Evang. d. Matt.,
pp. 513-528 ; Luthardt, Komm. uber das Evang. Johann ; McLellan, The New
Testament, etc., vol. i. pp. 473-494 ; and others. The current of critical opinion
is in the opposite direction.
2 See Hutton's thoughtful essay on John's Gospel {Essays, vol. i. p. 195) ;
Weiss-Meyer, Komm. (John xix. 36).
2Q4 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
did it commemorate? Many scholars have thought that it was the cru
cifixion of Jesus. If this be so, it supports that interpretation of the
fourth Gospel which would make it set the crucifixion on the morning
before the paschal lamb was killed and eaten, and at the same time it
confirms the Evangelist's testimony on this point. But since the able
essay of Scourer, his opinion, which agrees substantially with that de
fended earlier by Bleek and Gieseler, has gained favor, that the Quarto-
deciman Supper on the evening of the i/j-th of Nisan was at the outset
the Jewish passover, kept at the usual time, but transformed into a
Christian festival. John found the festival in being when he came to
Asia Minor, and may well have left it to stand, " whether he regarded
the I3th or the I4th as the day of the Last Supper.''1 It is certain
that when the controversy about the festival was rife, the defenders of
the Quartodeciman practice in Asia found nothing in the fourth Gospel
to clash with their views, and appealed in behalf of their rite to the
authority of the apostle John. Polycrates, Bishop of Ephesus, toward
the end of the second century, pointed back to his example, designating
him as the apostle " who leaned on the bosom of the Saviour." It ap
pears quite astonishing that a Gospel should have been composed in a
spirit of antagonism to the tenet of the Quartodecimans, but have
treated the matter so obscurely that their leaders failed to discover in it
anything opposed to their custom. It is not agreed what precise posi
tion on the paschal controversy was taken by Apollinaris, Bishop of
Hierapolis, the successor, and it may be the next successor, of Papias,
in the second century. But this is known, that he recognized the
fourth Gospel, and made his appeal to it. We may dismiss the Quarto
deciman discussion, since it affords, even in the view of some of the
ablest opponents of the Johannean authorship of the fourth Gospel, of
whom Schiirer is one, no support for their opinion on this subject.
The character and mission of John the Baptist, what he did
and said, and his attitude in relation to Christ and the gospel,
were evidently of very deep interest to the author of the fourth
Gospel. In considering the statements of the Evangelist on this
subject, we must bear in mind that, as John the Baptist stood at a
point of transition from one stage of development to a higher, so
the apostle John, having shared in this experience, had advanced
beyond its earlier stage, and looked back upon it with the clear
perception of its nature which was gained from his advanced
point of view. Neander, with his usual historical sagacity, has
commented on the effect of this new enlightenment.
"Truths not seen clearly by John the Baptist stood clearly before
the mind of the Evangelists. But this very fact may have caused the
1 Schiirer, Zeitschr.fur hist. TheoL, 1870, pp. 182 seq.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 295
obscurity which we find in their accounts of the Baptist. . . . If,
therefore, we find on close inquiry that the historical statements are
somewhat obscured by subjective influences, our estimate of their verity
need be in no wise affected thereby." l
It requires no argument to confirm the statement of the Gos
pels that Jesus was brought into a close relation to John the Bap
tist. Had he not been, considering the widespread excitement
which was kindled by the preacher in the wilderness, whose power
ful influence is attested by Josephus, there would be cause for
wonder. Nazareth was a village, but it was not an obscure
village. From the hills around it, "which were everywhere
within the limits of the village boys' playground," could be
seen the valley of the Jordan as well as the waters of the Medi
terranean. Caravans from the fords of the river could be watched
as they wound around the base of the plain on which the village
stood.2
Nothing can be plainer than that the Evangelist meant his
readers to understand that Jesus was baptized by John (John i.
32-34), although even this has been questioned. When Mat
thew's relation (iii. 13-17) is compared with the parallel synoptical
accounts, the reasonable conclusion is that the vision of the Bap
tist gave him the full assurance that Jesus was in truth the Mes
siah. This does not exclude the supposition that a simultaneous
vision confirmed Jesus himself in the consciousness of his Messianic
mission. The subsequent exclamation ascribed to John the Bap
tist (vs. 29), when he saw Jesus approaching, "Behold the Lamb
of God," etc., may have been an outburst of devout enthusiasm
which sprung from a prescience, growing out of his own experi
ence, that a mortal struggle with the corrupt part of the people
awaited the heaven-sent Messiah.3
Besides this matter of the circumstances attending the baptism
of Jesus, the entire narrative in the fourth Gospel of his relations
to the Forerunner furnishes to some critics a reason for impeach
ing its credibility.4 In the Synoptics the imprisonment of John
1 Neander, Leben /esu, pp. 69 seq. ; American translation, p. 46 seq.
2 See Professor George Adam Smith, Historical Geography of the Holy
Land, pp. 432, 433. 3 See Neander, Leben Jesn, pp. 260, 261.
4 E.g., on the passage quoted and the context, Reville says, " C'etait en
core une maniere de faire ressortir la superiorite de Jesus." Jesus de Naza
reth, vol. ii. p. 20, n.
2Q6 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
follows immediately upon the account of the temptation of Jesus.
When he heard of this imprisonment, " Jesus withdrew into Gali
lee." Then followed the call to Peter, to his brother Andrew, to
John and to James, to attach themselves to him as his followers.
In John there intervenes an account of the connection of the
first three with John the Baptist, how he pointed out Jesus to John
and Andrew, who spent the day with him, and how, the next day,
Andrew brought to Jesus his brother Simon Peter. Then follows
the journey to Capernaum and the brief stay there prior to the
visit of Jesus to Jerusalem to attend the passover. Learning that
the Pharisees had heard that he was baptizing more disciples than
John, he left Judaea again for Galilee. The Evangelist takes pains
to correct the impression as to the chronology, which the Synoptics
would make, by saying explicitly that at this time " John was not
yet cast into prison" (iii. 24). The question is whether in all
this we have truth or invention. The negative criticism does not
hesitate to affirm that we have in all this a falsification of history.
It is a pretty hard accusation ; but let us look at the probabilities
in the case. The order of occurrences in the first and third Gos
pels, the critics assure us, follows that in Mark. In his narrative
we are informed that Jesus, walking by the Sea of Galilee, saw the
fishermen, Peter and Andrew, casting their nets, and James and
John. At his bidding they immediately quit their nets and their
boats and join him (Mark i. 20). He had only to say to the
first pair, " Come ye after me and I will make you fishers of men,"
"And straightway they left their nets and followed him." He
had only to utter a word of summons to the second pair, " and
they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants,
and went after him." They instantly abandon their occupations,
and become his permanent companions. In the fourth Gospel
circumstances are related which explain the seemingly abrupt call
and the instantaneous compliance with it. It was not the begin
ning of their acquaintance with Jesus. Their connection with him
before was loose and not permanent. They had met him in the
neighborhood of the Jordan, had gone with him into Judaea, and
after John was delivered up had journeyed with him back to Gali
lee. It need occasion no surprise that the brief sketch of Mark
should begin with the call of Peter to permanent discipleship.
That the Baptist should have looked to see the expected kingdom
of the Messiah set up in a visible, impressive form, is nothing more
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 297
than what the chosen disciples of Jesus, when they had long been
under his personal tutelage, had not surrendered (Acts i. 6).
Hence, after waiting in vain for a signal manifestation of Messianic
power and dignity on the part of Jesus, the preacher in the wil
derness, immured in a prisoner's cell, now that his own work had ap
parently ended, grew impatient and perhaps asked himself whether,
after all, Jesus might not be a second forerunner of the Messiah,
and sent him a messenger in order to set his mind at rest (Matt,
xi. 3). If the account of the acquaintance of Jesus with the
Baptist which is presented in the fourth Gospel is false, who
invented it ? The ablest supporters of the negative criticism hold
at present that either the apostle John himself, or one of his
immediate disciples, or, possibly, another disciple of Jesus himself,
furnished materials for the Gospel narrative. Whichever it was,
shall an invention of this sort be credited to him ? We have a
life-like picture of what occurred. John sees Jesus coming to him
and points him out to those about him. The next day, when John,
in the hearing of two of his disciples, again pointed him out, these
follow him. Jesus turns and sees them coming after him. Then
the further details are given. This is either a true or a menda
cious narrative. The notion that the three consecutive days in
this passage are an artificial triad, and one of a number of like
fictions in the Gospel, is a fancy of certain critics.1 This rooted
suspicion is dealt with scornfully even by one of the most radical
of the writers on the Introduction to the New Testament.2
What is recorded of the relation of the Baptist to Jesus after his
baptism is, in its main particulars, not discordant with the proba
bilities in the case. The Kingdom of God was not yet set up. It
was still in the future. Until the Messiah should make it a tangi
ble reality, the work of the Forerunner in preparing for it was to
go on. Accordingly, John did not suspend his preparatory work.
He contented himself with introducing two or three of his most
sympathetic disciples to him who was "to increase" — whose
1 See Holtzmann, EinL in d. N. T., p. 426.
2 Jiilicher, EinL in. d. A7". 7'., p. 238, who says : " Eine mit raffinirter
Kunst auzgedachte Gliederung, einen im Grossen wie in Kleinigkeiten (z. B. i.
I, 2, 3) durchgefiihrten Schematismus von Dreiheiten, hat man in Joh. hinein-
geheimnisst. Die meisten dieser Dreiheiten diirfte der Verfasser selher nicht
bemerkt haben, und die allerverschiedensten Dispositionen lassen sich mit
gleichen Rechte als von ihm beabsichtigt vertreten," etc.
298 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
influence was to grow — while he himself was " to decrease." It
is natural that some of his disciples were more susceptible than
others, and that after the prophet was taken away the development
of his disciples varied. Before this time, some of them were net
tled at the increasing number of the disciples of Jesus (John iii.
26 seq.). Later (Acts xix. i seq.) we hear of some in whom
" there was a mixture of impressions left by John the Baptist with
scattered accounts received of Christ." l
The principal thing relied upon to disprove the genuineness of
the fourth Gospel is the account which is given there of the way
in which Jesus himself is known as the Messiah and came to be
recognized as such by his disciples. The disclosure was much
later, it is said, than the fourth Evangelist makes it to be, and the
perception of this truth by the followers of Jesus was gradual.
Hence, for one thing, the entire account in the Gospel of the per
sonal meeting of disciples of John with Jesus is discredited. In
support of this principal count in the indictment of the Evangelist,
the appeal is made to the passage in Mark (viii. 27-30), which
relates the conversation at Csesarea Philippi. We read that in
answer to the question of Jesus, "Who say ye that I am?"
Peter avows his faith in him as the Messiah, a declaration for
which he is commended by Christ. This incident is made the
basis of the inference that up to this time the apostles had not
looked on him as the Messiah, and had not been taught by Jesus
so to regard him. This criticism must assume that the apostles
had abandoned their occupations, had left house and home, to fol
low Jesus, had listened to his teachings in public and in private,
and yet had not recognized him as the head of the promised king
dom. This opinion, in itself improbable, is disproved even by what
Mark himself relates of the period before the occurrence of the
conversation at Caesarea Philippi. The " mightier " one, of whom
the Baptist spoke (Mark i. 7, 8), whose shoes he was not worthy
to stoop down and unloose, who was to baptize with the Holy
Ghost, must have been understood to be the Messiah. In Mark
(i. n) we read of the voice from heaven, "Thou art my beloved
Son." That he was thus at his baptism styled the Messiah could
1 See Neander, Planting and Training of the Church (Robinson's ed.),
p. 210. The observations of Neander are one more illustration of his insight
as an historical critic. They suggest a sufficient answer to Wendt's inferences
from Acts xix. i seq., in Das Johannisevangelium, p. 14.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 299
not have been a secret hidden from the apostles, including Peter.
In Mark we have the account of the temptation, followed at once
by the announcement by Jesus (i. 15) that the "time is fulfilled,"
— the time which was to precede " the Kingdom of God." They
did not ask, or need to ask, who was to be the King. Had they
not understood that the expected King was he who uttered words
like these, they would have inquired where and when they should
look for him. He called the disciples to make them " fishers of
men " (Mark i. 16). The demoniacs in the hearing of the disci
ples hailed him as the Messiah (e.g. Mark i. 24), for the demons,
Mark tells us (vs. 34), "knew him." They gave him the Messi
anic title, "Son of God" (Mark iii. n). In Mark ii. 10, Jesus
characterizes himself as the " Son of man " who hath power on
earth to forgive sins.1 He is the " bridegroom " (ii. 19). What
else could it signify to those who were familiar with the prophecy
of Daniel, but the Messiah? "He is the Lord of the Sabbath"
(ii. 10, 27). At Jericho, blind Bartimeus saluted him with the
Messianic designation, the "Son of David" (Mark x. 47 seq.).
The demand of the Pharisees for a sign from heaven (Mark viii. 1 1)
implies a well-understood claim on his part to be the predicted
Messiah. The critics generally unite in holding that the Evange
list Matthew had in his hands Mark as well as the apostle Mat
thew's Logia (or Discourses) of Jesus. Prior to the conversation
at Csesarea Philippi, according to Matthew, the disciples had ex
plicitly addressed him as the Messiah (Matt. xiv. 33)." The peo
ple, into whose minds the Pharisees had infused doubts, exclaimed
on seeing a miracle of healing, " Is this the Son of David ? " (Matt,
xii. 23, and xii. i seq.). Could the disciples, when they listened
to the Sermon on the Mount, in which there was an avowed exer
cise of supreme legislative authority, a proclamation of the laws of
the new kingdom, a contrast asserted to exist between him who
spoke and the prophets, fail to discern that it was no other than
1 The title " Son of man " in the New Testament was obviously derived from
the designation of the Messiah in the book of Daniel. If it was not used by the
people exclusively as a Messianic title, it does not follow that this was not its
meaning when used by Jesus himself. With him, it was a designation, even
if it were a " veiled designation," of his Messiahship. See the discussion of
Dr. Stevens, The Theology of the New Testament, ch. iv.
2 For the many declarations of Jesus in Matthew from the Logia (before
the record in ch. xvi. 13 sty.), which taught the people as well as the disciples
that he was the Messiah, see Weiss, I.eben Jesu, vol. ii. p. 260, n.
300 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the Messiah to whom they were listening? Peter's glowing ex
pression of faith at Cassarea Philippi was a spontaneous utterance.
It was not elicited as a response to any assertion of Jesus that he
was the Messiah. The question was simply, " Who say ye that
I am?" The inquiry was occasioned by the falling away of the
populace, who had wanted to make Jesus a king, but whose hopes
were disappointed by his failure to encourage them in their scheme.
Their enthusiasm was chilled. Was it possible that similar mis
givings were rising, too, in the minds of the disciples from the
disappointment of their hopes ? The question put by Jesus was a
test. It proved that while the people had fallen away from this
faith, the disciples stood firm. " A renewed spiritual faith in the
Messiah after all worldly Messianic hopes had been crushed "
shone out.2 The fourth Gospel (John vi. 66 seq.) records a like
or the same conversation, when Jesus said, " Would ye also go
away? " The Galilean following had actually melted away.
When the Gospels are fairly studied they yield a consistent and
in itself probable view of the course pursued by Jesus in the dis
closure of his Messianic calling. In the first place, there is not
a hint in the records of any denial of it on his part, or of a syl
lable from his lips that might tend to mislead in this particular
those who heard him. In the second place, his Messianic office
is kept in the background. There is an habitual endeavor to
prevent the exalted character of his mission from being noised
abroad. When he wrought miracles, we find connected with them
an injunction imposing silence on one and another recipient of
the blessing imparted. At Caesarea Philippi (Mark viii. 30 ; Matt,
xvi. 20) he only followed his custom when he charged the disciples
to " tell no man that he was the Christ." So after the transfigura
tion they were to " tell the vision to no man." His motive was
to forestall a popular demonstration arising out of mistaken,
worldly anticipations on the part of the multitude. There was
an imminent danger to guard against. Evidently his aim was
to instil that belief without raising a commotion. He wanted the
belief in him as the Messiah to take root. He wanted it to become
strong enough to meet the trials it would have to encounter, and
become more and more stable and confident, all the while keeping
1 See Weiss-Meyer, Komm. in Johann., ad loc.
2 Weiss, Leben Jesu, E. Tr., B. VI., cvi. In this chapter, Weiss's interpreta
tion of Mark vii. 27-30 is fully sustained.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 301
pace with the developing perception of the spiritual idea of the
Messiah and of his work. It was neither requisite nor was it meet
to leave a few disciples of John the Baptist, men who were waiting
for the Kingdom, in ignorance of the true intent and import of
his mission. It was natural that what they saw at Cana should
strengthen their new-born faith. " His disciples believed on him "
(John ii. u) ; that is, they were inspired afresh with the convic
tion of his Messiahship, instilled into them in their first interviews
with him. The early part of the ministry of Jesus, his Judaic
teaching in that period, and the first passover do not belong in
the plan of the Synoptics. But the reference of what was said
by him in John ii. 19 and iii. 14 of the temple, and of the serpent
lifted up, to his death, was an afterthought of the disciples. If the
allusion in these places was to his Messianic work and to his
death, the meaning was hidden from them.1 The story of his
subsequent intercourse with them indicates that there was progress
in the discipline of their faith, until it became ineradicable, despite
the deepening shadows which preceded and led up to the cross.
We have next to consider the discourses of Christ as given in
the fourth Gospel, in themselves and in comparison with the
reports of his teaching in the Synoptics. Unquestionably it is the
distinctive character of this part of the Johannean record, which,
more than anything else, has been the occasion of doubt as to the
apostolic authorship. It is an objection to be looked fairly in the
face. It is only just to remember that the ordinary effect of oral
repetition of a narrative is to hold fast its salient points, to sift
out, and perhaps to modify, minor details, and to retain whatever
home-bred vigor may belong to the phraseology. These traits
are manifest in the first three Gospels. Again, if the fourth Gos
pel is made up of personal recollections of the author, it is not
strange that it should reflect in a measure his individuality.
The discourses do not differ materially in style from the other
parts of the Gospel and from the first Epistle. No doubt it must
be assumed, and it ought not to be called in question, that the
teaching of Jesus had been assimilated, and that what we have
is a reproduction mainly in the author's own language. More is
1 On these passages, judicious remarks may be read in the valuable work
of Dr. Forrest, The Christ of History and of Experience, pp. 99, 100.
302 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
meant than the turning of Aramaic into Greek. Yet the process
is a totally different thing from fabrication, and is perfectly
consistent with substantially faithful recollection. Let a sym
pathetic pupil sit at the feet of an inspiring teacher. Sup
pose the pupil long after to set out to convey to others, not only
in another language, but perhaps in a more or less condensed
form, what he had heard. In places it may take the form of a
digest. It will be natural to clothe it partly, and sometimes alto
gether, in his own phraseology, and even to blend with it, more
or less, an expository element to assist the comprehension of
the listener. Yet after all it is the teacher who moulds the pupil
and speaks through him. The essential conceptions of the teacher
have become the staple of his habitual reflections. The ideas
and the spirit of the instructor may be transmitted to other minds
more effectually than could be done otherwise — unless, possibly,
a verbatim report of his discourses were to be given. It is really
a sign of essential faithfulness in giving the gist of the discourses
if the author has so appropriated the Master's teaching that
here and there he glides into an expansion of it, without notice
to the reader. Possibly an instance is John iii. 11-21. If so,
it is not easy to draw the line between the words of Jesus and
the thought of the Evangelist. Incidentally we meet with unde
signed tokens of the correctness of the Evangelist's memory.
One striking instance is the words, " Arise, let us go hence "
(John xiv. 31). These are not explained in the text, but imply
a simultaneous change of place, — a rising from the table, followed
either by a continued tarrying in the room or a going forth at once
toward the garden. To conceive of them as laid into a fictitious
narrative, although nothing is subjoined to explain what was the
action that followed them, is absurd.1
Who can doubt that Jesus said much more, and, especially in
converse with his disciples alone, spoke at times in a more continu
ous strain than the Synoptists relate ? They preserve, for example,
but a few sentences uttered by Christ at the Last Supper. Yet he
sat with the disciples a large part of the night. Here, again,
the peculiarity to be expected in an oral tradition, in contrast with
the more full and connected relation of one who draws from a
1 If it be supposed that there is a dislocation of the chapters, the words
quoted stood in the original record of the discourses. On the question of
dislocations, see above, p. 268, and Appendix, Note 15.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 303
store of personal recollections, is observable. But in Christ's
manner of teaching, there are not wanting in the Synoptic Gospels
close resemblances to the method of instruction as it appears in
the discourses in John. Much is said of the use of symbols in the
Johannean record of the teaching, as in the connecting of physical
blindness with spiritual (ix. 39-41). But how does this differ
from such a saying as, " Let the dead bury their dead " (Matt,
viii. 22) ? It is said that frequently in John figurative expressions
are not understood by his disciples. But in the Synoptics we
read such statements as, " Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees
and Sadducees" (Matt. xvi. n) — words which the disciples failed
to comprehend ; and " He that hath no sword, let him sell his
garment and buy one "(Luke xxii. 36), which the disciples mis
understood, and which Jesus did not stop to interpret to them.
Such an illustration as that of the good shepherd (ch. x.) in
dicates the same mental habit as that which dictated the parables
found in the first three Gospels. The close examination of the
two authorities, John and the Synoptics, brings to light numerous
parallelisms in the mode in which the religious thoughts of Christ
are expressed — resemblances such as might not catch the atten
tion of a cursory reader.1
1 On this topic, see Luthardt, Der Johann. Ur sprung, etc., pp. 185 seq. ; or
Godet, ConiDi., etc., pp. 189 seq, ; also Westcott, Comm. on St. John's Gospel
(Am. ed.), pp. Ixxxii. seq. Among the passages are: John ii. 19, "Destroy
this temple," etc. (Matt. xxvi. 61, xxvii. 40 ; Mark xiv. 58, xv. 29) ; John iv.
44, "A prophet hath no honor," etc. (Matt. xiii. 57 ; Mark vi. 4 ; Luke iv.
24) ; John v. 8, " Rise, take up thy bed," etc. (Matt. ix. 5 seq.; Mark ii. 9 ;
Luke v. 24) ; John vi. 20 (Matt. xiv. 27 ; Mark vi. 50), John vi. 35 (Matt. v.
6 ; Luke vi. 21) ; John vi. 46 (Matt. xi. 27 ; Luke x. 21 seq.} ; John xii. 7
(Matt. xxvi. 12 ; Mark xiv. 8) ; John xii. 8 (Matt. xxvi. ii ; Mark xiv. 7) ;
John xii. 25, " He that loveth his life," etc. (Matt. x. 39, xiv. 25 ; Mark viii.
35 ; Luke ix. 24) ; John xii. 27, " Now is my soul troubled " (Matt. xxvi. 28 ;
Mark xiv. 34 seq.} ; John xiii. 3, " knowing that the Father had given all
things into his hands " (Matt. xi. 27 ; Luke x. 21 seq.} ; John xiii. 1 6 (Matt. x.
24 ; Luke vi. 40) ; John xiii. 20 (Matt. x. 40 ; Luke x. 16) ; John xiii. 21
(Matt. xxvi. 21 ; Mark xiv. 1 8) ; John xiii. 38 (Matt. xxvi. 34 ; Mark xiv. 30 ;
Luke xxii. 34) ; John xiv. 18 (Matt, xxviii. 20) ; John xv. 20 (Matt. x. 25) ;
John xv. 21 (Matt. x. 22) ; John xvi. 32 (Matt. xxvi. 31 ; Mark xiv. 27) ; John
xvii. 2 (Matt, xxviii. 18) ; John xviii. II (Matt. xxvi. 39, 52 ; Mark xiv. 36 ;
Luke xxii. 42) ; John xviii. 20 (Matt. xxvi. 55) ; John xviii. 33 (Matt, xxvii.
ii) ; John xx. 23 (Matt. xvi. 19 and xviii. 18). The terms "life" and "eter
nal life " are found in Matthew, and are even interchanged with " kingdom of
heaven." Compare Matt, xviii. 3 with ver. 8 ; xix. 17 with ver. 23 ; xxv. 34
304 THE GROUNDS OP THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
The relation of the teaching of Jesus in the Synoptics and in
John respectively has been compared to the relation of the teach
ing of Socrates in Xenophon to the representation of it in Plato.
This analogy, if not carried too far, is just. That Socrates had
another vein in his conversations than is represented in the Memo
rabilia is indicated occasionally in Xenophon's work. We have to
explain how it happened that he fascinated Plato as well as Xeno
phon. More distinctly in the Synoptics appears the same vein
of 'teaching which is prominent in the fourth Gospel. If the sig
nificance and importance of personal union and fellowship with
Jesus stand out more conspicuously in this Gospel, still the differ
ence is one of degree. The spirit of the Synoptical teaching is not
out of harmony with the words to which it gives a central place :
" Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will
give you rest," etc. (Matt. v. 28 seq.}. The following words might
naturally fall from the same lips, " Peace I leave with you ; my
peace I give unto you ; not as the world giveth, give I unto you "
(John xiv. 27).
As regards theology, we meet in the Synoptics traces of essentially
the same teaching which meets us in the fourth Gospel. The
memorable passage in Matt. xi. 27, "No man knoweth the Son
but the Father, neither knoweth any man the Father save the Son,
and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him," is in substance
and style identical with what is familiar in John. It is a specimen
of that sort of teaching respecting himself and his relation to God
which we should expect Christ to impart to his followers. Is it
probable that he would have left them quite in the dark on those
questions respecting which they must have yearned for light, and
which are leading topics in the fourth Gospel? The institution
of the Lord's Supper as it is recorded in the Synoptics strongly
suggests that teaching respecting his person and the spiritual re
ception of himself — such teaching as we find in John vi. — had
with ver. 46 ; ix. 45 with ver. 47. These resemblances to the Synoptics are
wholly inartificial. Holtzmann's attempt to show that words and phrases are
culled from the Synoptists by the author of the fourth Gospel, and put to
gether in a kind of mosaic, is a failure. The inference finds no warrant in
the data brought forward to sustain it. The fourth Gospel is as far as possi
ble from being a composite of scraps of phraseology picked up from different
sources. It has a homogeneous character, a continuity, a life, which it never
could have had if it had been composed in the mechanical way supposed.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 305
been previously given to the disciples. Else how could his words
at the Last Supper have been intelligible to them? The concep
tion of his person in the Synoptical Gospels is at bottom the same
as in the fourth. In them he stands forth as the supreme law
giver, as we see in the Sermon on the Mount. He is distinguished
from the prophets and exalted above them. He is at last to judge
the world of mankind. The particular point that is found in John,
in distinction from the other Gospels, is the explicit doctrine of his
preexistence. It stands in a different connection from the doc
trine as it appears in the Epistle to the Hebrews. As to the opin
ion that the Evangelist " has simply put into the mouth of Jesus
ideas learned from Paul," it is an unproved and unfounded con
clusion. " Such a method on the part of the author of the fourth
Gospel would argue an indifference to historic truth which is by
no means borne out by the character of the Gospel as a whole."1
Among the Jews, in the later period of their history prior to the
time of Jesus, many pseudonymous works were composed. This
took place chiefly among the Alexandrians, but was not confined
to them.
Conscious that the age of inspiration had gone by, authors undertook
to set forth, under the name of Enoch, Solomon, or some other worthy,
the lessons which they thought suited to the times. They aspired to
speak in the spirit of the prophet or sage whose name they assumed.
In this literary device there was often no set purpose to deceive. The
practice early passed, however, into a more culpable sort of forgery. It
made its way into certain Christian circles where Judaic and Judaizing
influences prevailed. The distinction between esoteric and exoteric
doctrine, which may be traced to the Alexandrian philosophy, served
as a partial excuse for it. Writings were fabricated like the Sibylline
Oracles and the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies. But pious frauds of
this nature, as every one feels, do violence to the sense of truth which
Christianity demands and fosters. The Gospel brought in a purer
standard. In the ancient Church, as now, books of this sort were
earnestly condemned by enlightened Christians. Tertullian informs us
that the presbyter who was convicted of writing, in the name of Paul,
the Acta Pauli et Theclce, confessed his offence, and was deposed from
office. This incident shows the natural feeling of Christians generally
in respect to this kind of benevolent imposture. The reader can judge
1 McGiffert, Apostolic Age, p. 489. Dr. McGiffert proceeds to refute the
opinion that " the Evangelist put into Jesus' mouth extended discourses which
had no basis whatever in his actual words."
306 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
for himself what is the moral tone of the Johannean Gospel and Epistle.
Did the author, in the point of sound ethical feeling, stand on the plane
of the manufacturers of spurious books? Would such a man construct,
under the mask of an apostle, a fictitious history of the Lord? Such a
work, let it be noticed, is of a character utterly diverse from a purely
homiletic writing.
Both in ancient and modern times doubts have been enter
tained of the genuineness of the second Epistle of Peter. But
if we can imagine a well-meaning Christian, with a conscience
imperfectly trained, undertaking to compose a homily under the
assumed name of an apostle, that is something utterly different
from an attempt to build upon the ground, sacred as it must have
been felt to be, that was already covered by the authentic Gospels.
The irreverence of such a procedure eclipses any example fur
nished by the Gospels known to be apocryphal, which mainly con
fine themselves to the infancy of Jesus and to the Virgin Mary.
Baur, defending his position, actually likens the author of this
Gospel to the apostle Paul. Paul, he reminds us, was not one
of the twelve. Why, he inquired, should there not be still another
apostle? Think of the apostle Paul sitting down to compose a
religious romance in the form of a history of the Lord Jesus Christ !
And yet the author of the fourth Gospel, in point of moral and
spiritual worth, is put by Baur on a level with the apostle Paul.
One of the most radical opponents of the Johannine authorship,
at the same time that he sets its date not later than about 100,
frankly says that its writer " was perhaps the greatest Christian
thinker in the Christendom of that time." 1 In the Christian
literature of the second century, no book approaches in power
the fourth Gospel. Everything is of an inferior quality.
When we take up the writings of the sub-apostolic age, we are con
scious of an abrupt descent from the plane of the apostolic writings.
The apostolic Fathers as a rule exhibit a languor which communicates
itself to the reader. The epistle of Polycarp, although not wanting in
good sense and good feeling, is not an exception. The epistle of
Clement of Rome will not bear comparison with the New Testament
writers. Unless with a view to scholarly investigation, who cares to
linger over the allegories of Hennas? The anonymous epistle to
Diognetus, the date of which is somewhere about the end of the second
century, stands alone in that era as a really spirited composition. It
1 Jiilicher, Introd. in d. N. T., p. 259.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 307
is a discourse or appeal addressed to an individual ; but despite its
rhetorical vigor, it cannot be compared for a moment in depth and
power with the fourth Gospel. The writings of that day, those of
Justin included, are comparatively faint echoes of the inspired works of
the preceding age.
How can a book of the transcendent power of the fourth Gospel
be referred to a period of decadence? It has commanded the
reverent sympathy of saints and scholars. It has touched the
hearts of a multitude who with Martin Luther have felt it to be
the chief Gospel, — the " Hauptevangelium" It has held its
throne, age after age, in the households of the Christian nations,
in every stage of culture and civilization. Such a product,
springing up, like a flower of perennial beauty, in the barren
waste of post-apostolic authorship, would be a veritable anach
ronism.
The two ablest of the later critics J who withhold their assent to
the tradition which certifies the apostolic authorship of the fourth
Gospel, are nevertheless emphatic in declaring, what indeed is
very plain, that the Gospel stands in a palpably close relation to
the apostle John. Weizsacker doubts not that it was written " under
the colors — unter dem Fahne — of the apostle," in the shadow of
his repute and authority. The apostle, it is further said, as is indi
cated in ch. xxi. 23, lived to an advanced age, and it was only
a short time after he died that the Gospel was written and given
out. The author of the Gospel and the school to which he
belonged might even make a claim to the name of the apostle,
because he had belonged to their church and had been the head
of it. Moreover, it is admitted that the doctrine of the Logos
may have sprung up under his eyes and been approved by him, or
at least not been opposed. The apostle was in truth the link of
transition from the old faith to its form in the Gospel. Moreover,
it is said that the characteristic features of personal devotion to
Christ which pervade the Gospel are not the offspring of the Logos
doctrine, but the outcome of a living experience. They could
only emanate from the spirit of a disciple of Jesus. Nothing short
of the testimony of an immediate apostle, his intuition of Christ, and
the simplicity of his conception of faith can explain the taking up
by one later of the Logos idea. What is depicted in the two parts
1 Weizsacker and Harnack.
308 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BEUEF
of the Gospel, the first of which is the victorious might of Jesus
over his enemies, and the second, his own attractive irresistible
power, by which he drew his disciples to himself, constitutes the
portraiture of a character which can proceed from no other than
the soul of a disciple of Jesus himself, formed by it and filled with
it. The school of discipleship in the bosom of which the Gospel
appeared testifies to the powerful influence of the apostle John.
To his influence both tendencies, finding their expression in the
Apocalypse and in the Gospel, are due. So writes Weizsacker.1
Who the Evangelist was he does not undertake to say.
Harnack doubts not that John, the son of Zebedee, in some way
"stands behind the fourth Gospel." To the apostle, to what he
did and said, there are such references as to show conclusively
that to him the Evangelist stood in a special relation. He wrote
with aid from traditions obtained from the apostle John, who, as
the " disciple whom Jesus loved," stood, in the esteem of the
Evangelist, in the foreground of the company of disciples. Such,
we are told, was the relation of "John the Presbyter" to the
apostle. To the presbyter, and not to the apostle, Harnack,
although not without frankly expressed misgivings, is inclined to
attribute the composition of the Gospel. The function of
" Apostle and Chief Bishop " of Asia he would transfer to John
the Presbyter.2
So far as lapse of time is presupposed by the developed type of
doctrine which appears in the Gospel, this condition is present in
the case of the aged apostle himself, as in the case of either a
group of his supposed disciples, or of any individual among them,
to whom our critics think themselves obliged to ascribe its compo
sition. In this interval of thirty years, why may it not be in the
loved disciple's own soul that the conception of Christ ripened
into that deeper spiritual apprehension of his person and teaching
which shines forth in the Gospel? It would be only the fulfilment
of the prediction and promise attributed by its author to Christ.
After he had parted from them, his teaching was to be revealed to
1 See his Das Apostolisches Zeilalter, 2d ed., pp. 515, 517, 518, 519, 520,
523, 526, 530, 532, 534, 537, 538. These ideas are brought forward and de
veloped at greater length, but with some differences, in Weizsacker's first
principal work, Untersuchungen ilber d. Evangelische Geschichte, Th. 2. See
second edition of this work (1891).
2 Die Chronologic d. Altchristl. Lit., vol. i. pp. 677, 679.
THE AUTHORSHIP OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL 309
his disciples through the Spirit, its depth of meaning opened to
their perception. " He shall guide you into all truth." l Against
the hypothesis that the authorship was non-apostolic stands the
affirmation of the author that from the numerous signs wrought by
Jesus, he had made a selection, and that his motive was that
those for whom the Gospel was written might believe. Thus they
would have the blessing, just before referred to, of such as not having
seen, have yet believed. Herewith belongs the positive testimony
of the disciples of the apostle, at the end of the Gospel, that he
himself wrote it. Had its author not been the apostle himself, it is
unaccountable that his disciples, who survived him, should not have
been aware of the fact, or should have deemed it unimportant, or
not have let it be known. The hypothesis sketched above labors
under another difficulty. One principal reason which is assigned
for rejecting the apostolic authorship is features of the narrative
which are supposed by critics on that side of the question to clash
with the Synoptics or to be on some other ground incredible. An
example is the record of the early acquaintance of John with
Jesus through the mediation of John the Baptist. But how can
we ascribe these passages to disciples of the apostle John? If
they did not get these details from him, did they make them up ?
Since the isolated objection of the " Alogi," in the shape in which
it was made, confirms the otherwise unbroken tradition, that tradi
tion is virtually universal. It is incredible that Irenaeus mistook
the meaning and was ignorant of the belief of Polycarp and of
other older contemporaries on a matter so profound and so
interesting to him and to them.
The decision relative to the authorship of the fourth Gospel lies
between two hypotheses. The one recognizes the apostle John
himself as its author. The other attributes the Gospel to a disciple
of the apostle, by whom matter resting directly or indirectly on his
authority was combined with materials derived from other sources.
To the present writer, the hypothesis which identifies the Evange
list with the apostle appears entitled to acceptance, as exposed to
less weighty objections, besides being supported by the concurrent
testimonies of Christian antiquity.
1 John xvi. 14, xiv. 26, xv. 26. Cf. Loofs, /. c., p. 35.
CHAPTER XII
THE TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES* TESTIMONY AS PRESENTED
BY THE EVANGELISTS
IN the last two chapters evidence has been brought forward to
prove that the Gospels were written by apostles and companions
of apostles ; in particular, that the fourth Gospel is rightly attrib
uted to John ; that the first Gospel, at least in its original form,
and as to the main portion of its contents, had Matthew for its
author, and that it existed in the Greek, and in its present com
pass, while the generation of the first disciples of Jesus, by whom
it was acknowledged, was still in being ; that the second and third
Gospels were composed by contemporaries who brought together
the information which they had sought and obtained from apostles,
and from others who were immediately cognizant of the facts.
The Gospels thus meet one test of trustworthy historical evidence,
— that it shall come from witnesses or well-informed contempo
raries. They present the information which the apostles gave to
their converts respecting the words and actions of Jesus. We have
to specify reasons why this testimony is entitled to credit. Let it
be understood that in this place we have nothing to do with the
theological doctrine of inspiration, or with the nature and limits of
divine help afforded to the historical writers of the New Testament
in the composition of their books. That subject is irrelevant to the
present discussion. What we have to establish is the essential
credibility of the Evangelists ; in other words, to show that the
narrative which they give of the life of Jesus may be relied on
as safely as we rely on the biographical accounts of other eminent
personages in the past which are known to have been composed
by honest and, in other respects, competent narrators.
i. The fact of the selection of the apostles, and the view delib
erately taken both by Jesus and by themselves of their function,
are a strong argument for their credibility.
In inquiring whether the Gospel history is true or not, it is, first
of all, important to ascertain what view Jesus took of the life he
310
TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES' TESTIMONY 311
was leading among men, and also to observe in what light his
career was regarded by his followers. Had his teaching, and the
events occurring in connection with his life, such a significance in
his own eyes, that he meant them to be the subject of testimony?
Did he design that they should be remembered, and be faithfully
narrated to those beyond the circle of immediate observers? In
other words, had he, and his followers with him, an " historical
feeling" as regards the momentous occurrences, as they proved
to be, belonging to his career? This question is conclusively an
swered by the fact of a deliberate selection by him of a body of
persons to be with him, who were deputed to relate what they saw
and heard, and who distinctly understood this to be an essential
part of their business. They were called " the Twelve " ; and so
current was this appellation at an early day, that Paul thus desig
nates them even in referring to the time when Judas had fallen
out of their number (i Cor. xv. 5). The idea which they had of
their office was explicitly pointed out by Peter when he stated the
qualifications of the one who should be chosen in place of Judas
(Acts i. 21-25). It maY be remarked, before quoting the passage,
that, even if there were any just ground for suspecting the accuracy
of Luke in general, it could have no application in this place.
For instance, there is no room for the bias of a Pauline disciple,
since the transaction is one in which it is Peter who appears as
the leader; and the thing proposed is the completion of the num
ber of "the Twelve." The passage reads as follows, "Where
fore of these men which have companied with us " — that is,
travelled about with us — " all the time that the Lord Jesus went
in and out among us," — that is, was in constant intercourse with
us, — "beginning from the baptism of John unto that same day
that he was taken up from us, must one be ordained to be a wit
ness with us of his resurrection." The resurrection is particularly
mentioned as the fact most prominent in the apostle's testimony.
Here is a deliberate consciousness on the part of Peter, that he
and his fellow-apostles were clothed with the responsibility of wit
nesses, and that, to be of their number, one must have the neces
sary qualification of a credible witness, — a personal knowledge
of that about which he is to testify. "We are witnesses," said
Peter, on a subsequent occasion, " of all things which he did both
in the land of the Jews and in Jerusalem " (Acts x. 39) -1 Their
1 Cf. Luke xxiv. 47-49 ; Acts i. 8.
312 THE GROUNDS OF TIIEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
commission was to " teach all nations," and to teach them the
commandments of Jesus (Matt, xxviii. 20). His teaching was to
be brought to their remembrance (John xiv. 26). They were
forewarned that they would be arraigned before magistrates, to give
reasons for their adherence to him (Matt. x. 18; Luke xxi. 12).
The promise of the Spirit is given in a form to exalt, and not to
diminish, the importance of the historical facts of the life and
teaching of Jesus (John xiv. 15 scq., 25, 26, xv. 24-27, xvi. 14;
Luke xxi. 14, 15). The apostle John speaks of himself as an
eye-witness (John i. 14, xix. 35, cf. xxi. 24). Luke, at the begin
ning of his Gospel, refers to his having consulted, with painstaking,
those who had heard and witnessed the things to be recorded by
him (Luke i. 1-5). His object in writing is to satisfy Theophilus,
one in whom he was specially interested, that his Christian belief
rested on a good foundation of evidence. It is plain that the
apostles and Evangelists are distinctly conscious of their position.
They are aware that they have to fulfil the duty of witnesses.
There is this barrier against fancy and delusion. It is a great point
in favor of their credibility.
2. The apostles never ceased to be conscious that they were
disciples. They never ceased to look back upon the words and
actions of Christ with the profoundest interest, and to regard them
as a sacred treasure left in their hands to be communicated to an
ever widening circle. In that life as it had actually passed before
their eyes, they placed the foundation of all their hope and of the
hope of the world. There is not the least sign that any enthusiasm
which they felt in their work ever carried them away from this
historical anchorage. The precious legacy which they received
it devolved on them to convey to others in a spirit of sobriety
and conscientiousness,, and with such a sense of its value and
sacredness, that they were cut off from the temptation to add to it
or subtract from it. They were as far as possible from regarding
what they had received as a mere starting-point for them to con
found with it speculations of their own. They were not " many
masters," but continued to hold to the end the reverent, depend
ent position of learners.
3. The apostles relate, without the least attempt at apology or
concealment, instances of ignorance and weakness on their part,
together with the reproofs on this account which they received
from the Master.
TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES' TESTIMONY 313
This proves their honesty ; but, more than that, it illustrates
ihe objective character of their testimony. That they were taken
up by the matter itself, so that all personal considerations sank out
of sight, is the main fact which we are now endeavoring to illus
trate. So absorbing is their interest in what actually occurred,
that they do not heed its effect on their own reputation. They do
not think of themselves. What exhibits them in an unfavorable
light they narrate with as much artless simplicity as if they were not
personally affected by it. When Jesus taught them that no defile
ment could be contracted by eating one rather than another kind
of food, at which the Pharisees were offended, Peter asked him to
explain " the parable," or obscure saying. They tell us (Matt. xv.
16; Mark vii. 18) that Jesus answered, "Are ye also yet without
understanding?" He expressed, they say, astonishment and
regret that even they could not divine his meaning. When told to
beware of " the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees," they
obtusely surmised that the injunction had reference to a possible
deficiency of bread. They report the severe reproach, which this
called forth, of a littleness of faith, a failure to remember the mira
cle of the loaves (Matt. xvi. 8 ; Mark viii. iy-21).1 They tell us
how they confessed their own weakness of faith (Luke xvii. 5).
Repeatedly they state that they did not comprehend or take in
the predictions of his suffering death, which were addressed to
them by Jesus. They represent themselves to have clung so tena
ciously to the idea of a political Messiah, that after the death of
Jesus they expressed their disappointment in the words, "We
trusted that it should have been he which should have redeemed
Israel." And, even after the resurrection, they anxiously required
of him, " Wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to
Israel ? " This false conception of the Messiah's work led to
expressions on their part which deeply wounded Jesus. These
are faithfully reported by them. They inform us (Matt. xvi. 23 ;
cf. Mark viii. 33 ; Luke iv. 8) that Peter's protest against the
suggestion that Jesus was to suffer death elicited from him such a
rebuke as nothing but the feeling that he was tempted to sin by a
1 The strong expression of grief and weariness, " O faithless and perverse
generation! " etc. (Matt. xvii. 17), is omitted above, for the reason that the
parallel (Mark ix. 19) makes it, perhaps, doubtful whether the diseiples were
includc-d among those addressed in the apostrophe. Matt. xvii. 20 would
suggest that they were.
314 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
friend by whom he ought rather to be supported on the hard path
of duty, could evoke, "Get thee behind me, Satan," — adversary
of the will of God, tempter, — "for thou art an offence" — a
stumbling-block — " unto me ; for thou savorest not " — mindest
not — "the things that be of God," — God's will, God's cause, —
" but those that be of men." This heavy, humiliating rebuke is
recorded by all the Synoptists. It entered into the story which
the apostles, Peter included, were accustomed to relate. Other
instances when they must have felt humbled by the Saviour's dis
pleasure are recorded with the same candor. For example, when
they repelled those who brought little children to him, Jesus " was
much displeased," and bade them let the children come to him
(Mark x. 13, 14 ; cf. Matt. xix. 14 ; Luke xviii. 16).
What surer mark of an honest narrator can exist than a willing
ness to give a plain, unvarnished account of his own mortifying
mistakes, and the consequent rebuffs, whether just or not, which
he has experienced? When Boswell writes that Johnson said to
him, with a stem look, " Sir, I have known David Garrick longer
than you have done, and I know no right you have to talk to me
on the subject," or when an author tells us that his hero said to
him, " Sir, endeavor to clear your mind of cant," no one can
doubt that the biographer is telling a true story. Men are not
likely to invent anecdotes to their own discredit. When we find
them in any author, a strong presumption is raised in favor of his
general truthfulness.
4. The apostles related, and the Evangelists record, serious
delinquencies of which the former were guilty, — unworthy tempers
of feeling, and offences of a grave character.
They tell us of the ambition and rivalry which sprang up among
them, and of the wrangles that ensued. The mother of John and
James petitioned that her sons might have the highest places of
honor in the new kingdom, of the nature of which she had so poor
a conception (Matt. xx. 20, 21). The two apostles joined in the
request (Mark x. 37), having first tried to draw from their Master
a promise that they should have whatever they might ask for.
The other ten were angry with John and James for preferring such a
request (Mark x. 41). One day, on their way to Capernaum, the
disciples fell into a dispute on the same question, — who shall
have the precedence (Mark ix. 34; cf. Luke ix. 46, xxii. 24).
Altercations of this sort, so they themselves related, broke out in
TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES' TESTIMONY 315
their company on different occasions. Will the reader ponder the
fact that all four of the Evangelists give a circumstantial account
of the denials of Peter? (Matt. xxvi. 58 seq.; Mark xiv. 54 seq.;
Luke xxii. 54 seq. ; John xviii. 15 seq.) Here was the apostle who
had a kind of leadership among them. It was he whose preaching
was most effective among the Jews everywhere (Gal. ii. 8) . Yet this
undisguised account of his cowardice, treachery, and falsehood, on
a most critical occasion, is presented in detail in the evangelical
narrative. It is impossible to doubt that it formed a part of the
story of the crucifixion, which the apostles, each and all of them,
told to their converts. Could a more striking proof of simple
candor be afforded ? Is it not obvious that the narrators sank
their own personality — merged it as it were — in the absorbing
interest with which they looked back on the scenes which they
had beheld, and in which they had taken part? And then they
relate that at the crucifixion they all forsook Jesus, and fled (Matt,
xxvi. 56 ; Mark xiv. 50). They make no attempt to conceal the
fact that they left his burial to be performed by one who was com
paratively a stranger, and by the women whose devotion overcame
their terror, or who considered that their sex would be their safe
guard. Beyond the conscientious spirit which this portrayal of
their own infirmities and misconduct compels us to attribute to
the apostles, these features of the Gospel narrative show that they
forgot themselves, so intent were they on depicting things just as
they had occurred. In other words, they impress on us the objec
tive character of the Gospel history as it is given on the pages of
the Evangelists.
5. It is an impressive indication of the objective character of the
apostolic narrative, that the manifestations of human infirmity in
Jesus, infirmity which does not involve sin, are referred to in the
plainest manner, and without the least apology or concealment.
These passages occur side by side with the accounts of miracles.
Had there been a conscious or latent disposition to glorify their
Master at the expense of truth, it is scarcely possible that they
would have spread out these illustrations of human weakness. It
is only necessary to remind the reader of the record of the agony
of Jesus in the garden. We are informed that he was overwhelmed
with mental distress. He sought the close companionship of the
three disciples who were most intimate with him. He prostrated
himself on the earth in supplication to God. As he lay on the
3l6 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC -AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
ground, one of the Evangelists tells us — if we adopt the accepted
reading — that the sweat fell from his body, either actually mingled
with blood, or in drops like drops of blood issuing from the wounds
of a fallen soldier. " My soul " — thus he had spoken to the three
disciples — " is exceeding sorrowful unto death." In the presence
of passages like these, how can it be thought that the apostles were
enthusiasts, oblivious or careless of facts, and bent on presenting
an ideal of their own devising, rather than the life of Jesus just as
they had seen it? l
6. The truthfulness of the apostles is proved by their submis
sion to extreme suffering and to death for the testimony which
they gave.
They had nothing to gain, from an earthly point of view, by re
lating the history which is recorded in the Gospels : on the con
trary, they had everything to lose. It had been distinctly foretold
to them that they would be " delivered up to be afflicted," deliv
ered up to pain and distress, be objects of universal hatred, and be
killed (Matt. xxiv. 9). They were forewarned that they would be
seized, imprisoned, brought before rulers as criminals, betrayed
by friends and nearest relatives (Luke xxi. 12-16; cf. xi. 49).
" The time cometh," it was said, " that whosoever killeth you will
think that he doeth God service " (John xvi. 2 ; cf. xv. 20, xvi. 33).
These predictions were verified in their experience. Whatever
view is taken of the authorship of the Gospels, none can doubt
that these passages are a picture of what the apostles really en
dured. • The persecution of the apostles was the natural result of
the spirit which had prompted the crucifixion of Jesus. It began
as soon as they began publicly to preach " Jesus and the resurrec
tion." There were men, like Saul of Tarsus, eager to hunt down
the heretics. The murder of Stephen occurred in the year 33 or
34, about two years after the death of Christ. The apostles were
objects of mingled scorn and wrath. Their situation is described
by St. Paul as follows : " For I think that God hath set forth us
the apostles last, as it were appointed to death " — or doomed to
death, — " for we are made a spectacle unto the world, and to
angels, and to men. . . . Even unto this present hour we both
hunger and thirst, and are naked and are buffeted, and have no
1 It does not fall within the plan of John to repeat this narrative of the
Synoptists. But John reports an instance of the deep distress of Jesus, "Now
is my soul troubled," etc. (xii. 27) . John alone relates that he " wept " (xi. 35).
TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES' TESTIMONY 317
certain dwelling-place. . . . Being reviled, we bless ; being per
secuted, we suffer it ; being defamed, we entreat ; we are made
as the filth of the world, and are the offscouring of all things unto
this day" (i Cor. iv. 9-14). There were certain peculiar expos
ures to suffering in the case of Paul, yet he describes here the
common lot of the apostles. Defamation, public scorn, physical
hardship, assaults by mobs, and punishments by the civil authority,
imprisonment, death, — this was what they saw before them, and
what they actually suffered. Ostracism, with all the indignities and
pains that bitter fanaticism can inflict along with it, was the re
ward which they had to expect for their testimony to the teach
ing, the miracles, the resurrection, following the death, of Jesus.
To suspect them of dishonesty is to imagine that men will fling away
property, friends, home, country, and life itself, for the sake of
telling a falsehood that is to bring them no sort of advantage.
Hardly less irrational is it to charge them with self-delusion.
It has been shown in a preceding chapter, by internal evidence
derived from the Gospels, and by other proofs, that miracles were
wrought by Christ. It has been shown that the theory of halluci
nation will not avail to explain the unanimous, immovable belief of
the apostles in his resurrection. These men attended Jesus through
his public ministry, from the beginning to th-e close. The occur
rences which necessarily presupposed the exertion of miraculous
power took place in their presence. They were events in which
they had a deep concern. The apostles, to be sure, were not
inquisitive naturalists, but they were not wanting in common sense,
and they were conscientious men. They were the men whom
Jesus Christ selected to be his companions. Unless, as the enemies
of Jesus charged, he was " a deceiver," and most accomplished
in the art, how could they mistake the character of these works
which, as they alleged, he performed before their eyes?
But as the miracles are the part of the Gospel history which in
these days chiefly provokes incredulity, it is well, once more,
briefly to advert to this topic. No more time need be spent on
Hume's argument to show that a miracle is, under no circumstances,
capable of being proved. As Mill observes, all that Hume has
made out is, that no evidence can prove a miracle to an atheist,
or to a deist who supposes himself able to prove that God would
not interfere to produce the miraculous event in question.1 We
1 J. S. Mill, System of Logic, vol. ii. p. Iio.
3l8 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
assume the being and moral attributes of God ; and we need not fur
ther discuss the character, in other respects, of Hume's reasoning.1
As the miracles rest on the same grounds of evidence as the
other matters of fact to which the apostles testify, special reasons
are required for discrediting their testimony as regards this one
class of events. Is it said, " granting that they are possible, they are
incredible " ? The answer is, that, being a necessary element and
the natural adjuncts of revelation, they are not incredible, unless
the fact of revelation, and of Christian revelation in particular, is
incredible. Their improbability is just as great as, and no greater
than, the improbability that God would reveal himself to men, and
send his Son to save them. Is it objected that there has been a
vast number of pretended miracles ? The answer of Bishop Butler
appears sufficient, that mankind have not been oftener deluded by
these pretences than by others. " Prejudices almost without num
ber and without name, romance, affectation, humor, a desire to
engage attention or to surprise, the party-spirit, custom, little com
petitions, unaccountable likings and dislikings — these influence
men strongly in common matters." As they are not reflected on by
those in whom they operate, their effect is like that of enthusiasm.
And yet, as Butler adds, human testimony in common matters is
not, on this account, discredited. Because some narratives of
miracles spring out of mere enthusiasm, it is an unwarrantable in
ference that all are to be accounted for in this way.2
1 See above, ch. iv. On Pagan and Ecclesiastical Miracles, see Appendix,
Note, p. 421.
2 What is said in the Gospels of Jesus prior to his public ministry calls for
special remark. Of this portion of his life, the apostles were not directly
cognizant. With regard to it they were dependent upon others for informa
tion. The brief and fragmentary character of the introductory narratives in
Matthew and Luke is adapted to inspire confidence, rather than distrust, since
it indicates authentic tradition as the probable source of them. The most
important fact contained in them is the miraculous conception. For the
historical truth of this record, there is proof in the circumstance that Matthew's
and Luke's narratives are from separate sources, and are complementary to
each other. Moreover, these sources are Jewish. Certainly Luke's account is
from a Jewish Christian document. There was nothing in Jewish ideas to lead
to the origination of a myth of this sort. As for Judaizing Christians, they
would be the last to imagine an incident so contrary to their dogmatic ten
dencies. As to Isa. vii. 14, there is no proof that it had been applied by the
Jews to the Messiah; and the Hebrew term used there did not necessarily
denote an unmarried person. Luke repeatedly refers to the recollections of
TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES' TESTIMONY 319
We are not called upon to confute the opinion that the first
three Gospels — the historical character of the fourth has already
been vindicated — were moulded by a doctrinal purpose or bias,
since that opinion finds no countenance now from judicious critics
of whatever theological creed. The first Gospel contains numer
ous passages in which the catholic character of Christianity is
emphatically set forth.1 " Our Matthew," says Mangold, an un
prejudiced critic, not at all wedded to traditional views, " is, to be
sure, written by a Jewish Christian for Jewish Christians" ; " but
he has given us no writing with a Jewish Christian doctrinal bias."
" The words of Jesus quoted in Matthew," says Reuss, " which
form the doctrinal kernel of the book, are not selected in the
slightest degree from that point of view," — that of the Palestinian
Jewish Christianity, — " but go beyond it in a hundred places, and
bespeak so much the more the faithfulness of the tradition."2
Mark has decidedly outgrown Judaism ; " but no dogmatic ten-
Mary respecting the early days of Jesus (Luke ii. 19, 51). It is probable that
she lived at Jerusalem with John. " She kept in her heart " all the sayings
[or things] connected with Jesus when he was twelve years old (Luke ii. 51).
It is not strange if a knowledge of the circumstances concerning his birth was
slow in reaching the ears of his followers, or that early genealogies should
assume Joseph to have been his father. That John and Paul do not connect the
Saviour's divinity, or even his sinlessness, with his miraculous birth, goes to
prove that doctrinal belief did not engender the story. Luke's designation of
Jesus as holy, in connection with his miraculous conception (Luke i. 35; cf.
Matt. i. 20), is not equivalent to sinlessness. If the origination of such a
myth could be credited to Gentile Christians, which, especially at so early a
date, is an unlikely supposition, we could not account for its adoption in the
circle of Palestinian Jewish Christians. How the idea of a miraculous ele
ment in the birth of " the second Adam " comports with the function that was
to belong to him as a new creative potence in humanity, together with the
force of the historical proofs, is cogently presented by Neander, Leben Jestt,
pp. 14 seq. See also the instructive discussion of Weiss, Leben Jesu, i. 212
seq. That difficulties should exist in connection with details in the narra
tives of the opening period of Christ's life, which are collected in Matthew
and Luke, is to be expected. It is natural that Strauss should make the most
of them. The subject of the miraculous birth is fairly and instructively
handled by Sanday, in Hastings' Dictionary of the Bible, i. 642 seq. For
valuable remarks of Professor Ramsay on this topic, see his Was Christ born
in Bethlehem ?
1 Matt. viii. II, ix. 16 seq., xii. 8, xiii. 31, xx. I seq., xxi. 28, 33, xxii. 40,
xxiii. 33, xxiv. 14, xxviii. 19; cf. Essays on the Supernatural Origin of
tianity, pp. 213-215; Reuss, Gesch. d. heilig. Schriftt. d. N. T., p. 195.
2 Gesch., etc., p. 194.
320 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
dency can on this account be saddled on his presentation of the
Gospel history, as long as it is not shown that Christ himself did
not rise above Judaism, and that the Jewish Christian Matthew
looks on Christianity as a development within the limits of Juda
ism." * In Luke, " not only does the history of Jesus acquire in
general no other significance than in Matthew, nowhere is there
disclosed a design to set aside or to overcome an imperfect under
standing of it : on the contrary, there occur numerous words and
acts, drawn from the general tradition, which, when literally taken,
rather wear a Jewish Christian coloring. But here it will be
nearest to the truth to affirm that not a party feeling, but the most
independent historical research, — or, if we prefer so to call it, a
thirst for the fullest possible information, — has governed in the
collection of the matter." 2 The whole charge of being Tendenz-
Schriften, which Baur and his school brought against the Gospels,
is founded on untenable theories respecting their authorship and
order of composition.
If the "tendency-theory" no longer calls for detailed refutation,
the same thing is true of the attack of Strauss on the credibility of
the Gospels, which is founded on their alleged inconsistencies.
This attack is now acknowledged by judicious scholars to be
merely the work of an expert advocate, bent on finding contradic
tions in testimony which he is anxious to break down.3 The
Gospel narratives are wholly inartificial. No compositions could
be more open to assault from critics who ignore this character that
belongs to them, and labor to magnify the importance of varia
tions which serve to prove that there was no collusion among
the several writers, and no attempt on the part of anybody to frame
a story that should be proof against hostile comment.4
Over and above particular evidences of trustworthiness, such as
have just been stated, there is one token even more impressive
than single items of this nature, a token which the unlearned
reader of the Gospels must feel to be convincing. It is the por
traiture of the character of Jesus which the Evangelists present
1 Mangold-Bleek, Einl. in d. N. T., p. 342.
2 Reuss, p. 212.
3 A full reply to Strauss on this topic is made in the present writer's Tht.
Super-natural Origin of Christianity, ch. vi.
4 For remarks on discrepancies in the Gospels, see Appendix, Note ooo.
TRUSTWORTHINESS OF THE APOSTLES' TESTIMONY 321
alike before the eyes of the simple and the cultured. We see in a
concrete form an ideal which these writers could never have them
selves originated. Composed of numerous disconnected elements,
it stands forth a consistent, living picture which has called forth
the homage and moved the hearts of succeeding generations.
This image of Jesus presented in artless narrations demonstrates
their verity. Of the Galilean fishermen and their humble associ
ates it has been said by a teacher trained in letters and philosophy
that, " if it be an unreal creation of their own, we will worship
them."
CHAPTER XIII
THE RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE AND TO
BIBLICAL CRITICISM
THE critical discussions which are rife in our times respecting
the Bible, the authorship of its various books, and the historical
value and normal authority of their contents make it important
to consider the bearing of these inquiries and. debates on the
Christian faith. What is the relation of the collection of writings
which we call the Bible to the religion of Christ? How far is a
particular doctrine on the subject of the Scriptures requisite for a
theoretical or a practical reception of the Gospel in its just import
and proper efficacy? Do the verdicts of critical science imperil, or
are they likely to imperil, the foundations on which Christianity,
considered as an experience of the soul, or as a body of beliefs
concerning God and man, the life that now is, and the world
hereafter, reposes?
So much is clear at the outset, that what we know of the his
torical and doctrinal parts of Christianity is ascertained almost
exclusively from the Bible. The same is true of our knowledge of
the origin and growth of that entire religious system which is con
summated in the work and teaching of Christ and of the apostles.
It is not less plain that the nutriment of Christian piety is derived
chiefly from the pages of Sacred Scripture. The instrumentalities
of human teaching, the activities of the Church in building up
Christian character, and the rest of the manifold agencies through
which the power of religion is kept alive in the individual and in
society, draw their vitality from the Bible. The habit of resorting
to the Bible for spiritual quickening and direction is the indispen
sable condition of religious life among Christians. The practical
proof of the inspiration of Holy Scripture — the preeminence of
this volume above all other books known to men — is found in
this life-giving power that abides in it, and remains undiminished,
from age to age, in all the mutations of literature, and amid the
322
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 323
diverse types and advancing stages of culture and civilization. The
general proposition, that the Bible is at once the fountain of spir
itual light and life, the prime source of religious knowledge, and the
rule of faith and guide of conduct among Christians, admits of no
contradiction.
But this general theorem does not cut off those special prob
lems and distinctions which, with a view to exact definition and
qualification, constitute biblical criticism, as that branch of study
is at present understood. It could not be that the traditional views
which were handed down from the Church of the fourth century,
through the middle ages, uncritical to some extent as those views
were in their inception, should escape the scrutiny of a more search
ing and scientific era. The Renaissance awakened a fresh intel
lectual life and an inquisitive spirit. The liberty of thought which
the Reformation brought in was attended at the outset with a more
discriminating and a more free handling of questions pertaining
to the origin and character of the books of Scripture, as the exam
ple of Luther notably illustrates. The separation of the Old Tes
tament apocrypha from the Scriptural canon was one consequence
of this more bold and enlightened spirit of inquiry. The exigen
cies of controversy with the Roman Catholics begot among Prot
estant teachers of dogmatic theology, in the next age, a more
scrupulously conservative method of shaping the doctrine respect
ing the inspiration of biblical books than a number of great leaders
in the Protestant movement had adopted. The authority of the
Bible, in opposition to the Tridentine principle of church authority,
was so construed as to lay fetters upon the critical spirit among the
Protestant theologians of the seventeenth century. The maxim
of Chillingworth, himself a theological writer of a liberal cast,
"The Bible is the religion of Protestants," was the parent gener
ally of the dogma that the Scriptures are in all respects impeccable.
More and more the rise and spread of the scientific spirit — the
spirit which pursues truth alone as its goal, casting aside every
bias as tending to blind the eye, and sifting evidence with an un
sparing rigor — could not fail to affect this department of knowledge.
More and more the spirit of candid and exhaustive and fearless
investigation, which is the legitimate child of the Protestant move
ment, insisted upon testing the prevalent impressions concerning
the Bible and its various parts, by the strict rules that govern im
partial investigation in every other province. Literary criticism,
324 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
which concerns itself with the correctness of the received text and
with the authorship and date of the several books, with their real
or alleged discrepancies ; natural and physical science, exploring
the origin of the earth and of its inhabitants, and of the stellar
spheres above ; historical and archaeological study, exhuming relics
of the past, and deciphering monuments of bygone ages, — these
branches of knowledge bring, each of them, conclusions of its own
to be placed in juxtaposition and comparison with the Hebrew and
Christian Scriptures. Biblical criticism was something inevitable.
It sprang up within the pale of the Church. Its most valuable
contributions have been made by Christian scholars. It is true
that disbelievers in the divine mission of Jesus, and even in the
supernatural altogether, have sometimes devoted themselves to
these inquiries. It is a blunder and an injustice, however, on the
part of Christians, and a false boast on the part of their adversa
ries, when on either side it is affirmed that biblical criticism, and
the verified results of it, are principally due to efforts of scholars
without sympathy with the Church and with the cause of religion.
Enough has been said respecting the exalted function of Scrip
ture to preclude misapprehension when we proceed to remark
that the Bible is one thing and Christianity is another. The reli
gion of Christ, in the right signification of these terms, is not to be
confounded with the scriptures, even of the New Testament. The
point of view from which the Bible, as related to Christianity, is
looked on as the Koran appears to devout Mohammedans, is a
mistaken one. The entire conception according to which the
energies of the Divine Being, as exerted in the Christian revela
tion, are thought to have been concentrated on the production of
a book, is a misconception, and one that is prolific of error.
i. The revelation of God which culminates in the Gospel, so
far from being a naked communication let down from the skies, is
in and through a process of redemption. Redemption is an effect
wrought in the souls of men and in human society. Christianity
is a new spiritual creation in humanity. The product is "new
creatures in Christ Jesus," — a moral transformation of mankind.
Jesus said to his disciples, " Ye are the light of the world ... ye
are the salt of the earth." From them was to go forth an illumi
nating, renovating power. Seeing their good works, attracted by
their spirit, other men were to be brought to the Father. The
brotherhood of Christian believers was the dwelling-place in which
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 325
the living God made his abode: they were his "house," as the
temple was his house under the former dispensation.1 They are
expressly declared to be the " temple " of God, in which his
Spirit abides.2 The "pillar and ground of truth" — that which
upholds the truth in the world, and is like a foundation underneath
it — is the Church. It is not said to be books which had been
written, or which were to be written, but the community of faith
ful souls.3 A society had been brought into being, — a people of
God, with an open eye to discern spiritual things. A vine-stock
had been planted, the branches of which, if they did not dissever
themselves, would bear fruit.
2. Revelation is historical : the means of revelation are primarily
the dealings of God with men. The revelation of God to the
Hebrew people was made through the providential guidance and
government which determined the course of their history. When
the sacred writers — as the authors of the Psalms, or inspired
orators like the protomartyr Stephen — speak of divine revelation,
they recount the ways in which God in the past has led his people.
The appeal is to the disclosure of God in the providential history of
his people. Especially do they recall the manifestation of God
in the deliverance from bondage in Egypt by the hand of Moses,
in the leading of Israel through the wilderness, in the conquest of
the land which they inhabited, in the various instances of national
prosperity and national disaster which followed. Events had been
so ordered, signal rewards had been seen so to alternate with sig
nal chastisements, that God was more and more brought home to
their minds and hearts in his true character. The nations
generally valued their divinities for the protection and help which
they afforded. This was the ordinary heathen view. Under
the divine training of the Israelites, they rose to a higher
and altogether different conception. So established did their
faith become that national downfall, and what seemed utter ruin,
did not signify that Jehovah was powerless. These calamities
were the chastisement inflicted on them by God himself. It was
not that God was overcome by stronger powers ; it was he him
self who had brought on them defeat and exile, and the desola
tion of their altars and homes. Hence they were moved to
cling to him all the closer. They were saved from complete
1Heb. iii. 2, 5, x. 21; I Pet. iv. 17, cf. Ephes. ii. 22.
2 I Cor. iii. 16; 2 Cor. vi. 16. 8 I Tim. iii. 15.
326 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
despair. They could believe that God might not have utterly
forsaken them. They ascended to a higher point of view. They
learned to contemplate God both as holy, as actuated by ethical
motives in his government, as just to punish, and merciful to spare
and to forgive the contrite, and as the Ruler, not of themselves
alone, but of the whole earth. The thread of his all-governing
purpose and will ran, not through the history of Israel alone, but
through the fate and fortunes of all nations. By experiences of
actual life under the providential sway of God, their knowledge of
him expanded, their communion with him became more intimate
and more intelligent. A father discloses himself to his children by
his management of them from day to day and from year to year.
His smile rewards them. He frowns upon them when they go
astray. They are trained to confide in him. They know him
more and more as they live under his care, and witness the mani
festation of his qualities in the successive periods of their lives.
The didactic element is not wanting. The father teaches, as well
as guides and governs. Explanation, admonition, — it may be,
outpourings of grief and affection, — are intermingled with the
instruction contained in act and deed. His dealings with them
are not left to be misinterpreted. Their purport is made clear, if
need be, by verbal elucidation. They are intermingled with coun
sel and command. Somewhat after this manner, in the course of
the history of Israel, "the servant" of the Lord, not only were
heroes raised up providentially to lead armies, and administer
civil affairs, but holy men were called upon the stage to make
known the meaning of the doings of God, to point the presumptu
ous and the desponding to the future, to give voice to the spirit
of prayer and praise which the character of God, and his rela
tion to them, should appropriately inspire. Prophets, with vision
clarified by light shining into their souls from above, expounded
the providential dealings of God, read aloud his purposes discovered
in them, commanded, warned, and consoled in his name.
If we turn to the revelation of God in the Gospel, we observe
the same method. It is an historical manifestation. A child is
born at Bethlehem, and brought up at Nazareth, consecrated
by baptism in the Jordan, collects about him a company of chosen
followers, lives in intercourse with men, performs miracles of heal
ing and deliverance, dies, and reappears from the tomb. He
teaches ; and his teaching is indispensable to the effect to be pro-
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 327
duced, and is most precious. But his own person and character,
his deeds of power and mercy, his voluntary submission to death,
his resurrection, ascension, and continued agency through the
Spirit, — it is in these facts and transactions that the Gospel cen
tres. They are the material, the vehicle, of revelation. The
didactic element is to open the eye to their intrinsic significance.
It is to insure against misunderstanding, and to impress on the
hearts and minds of men the inherent meaning of these deeds of
God in human history.
3. The persons and transactions through which revelation is
made, one must remember, are anterior to the Scriptures that
relate to them. The apostle Paul traces back the line of God's
people to the faith of their nomadic ancestor. This faith pre
ceded, of course, every record of it, and everything that was writ
ten about it. There could be no story of divine judgments and
deliverances, and of their effect on the religious consciousness of
the people, prior to the occurrences in question and to the obser
vation of their result. As fast as sacred literature arose, its influ
ence would be more or less felt ; but this literature presupposed
and rested on a progressive religious life and on the historical
forces which fostered as well as originated it. The great fact of
the old dispensation, its palpable outcome, was a people imbued
with the spirit of a pure theism, separated from the heathen
world by the possession of an exalted faith in God, and of a great
hope of redemption inseparably conjoined with it — a people
bearing witness to God in the midst of the pagan world. In
like manner the Church of the new covenant preceded the New
Testament writings. Jesus himself wrote nothing. As far as we
know, at the date of his ascension, nothing respecting him had
been put in writing. His words, his miracles, the things that he
suffered, his resurrection, were unrecorded. Not less than a
score of years may have passed before those first essays at record
ing what the disciples knew respecting his life, which Luke
notices in his prologue, were composed. The oldest writings in
the New Testament collection are certain Epistles of Paul, which
were called out by his necessary absence from churches, or by
special emergencies. Yet the Christian faith was in being ; the
Church was in being ; the Gospel was preached ; the testimony
of the apostles was spread abroad ; numerous converts were made.
Christianity was not made by the Christian Scriptures.
328 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
4. On the contrary, the Scriptures are the product of the
Church. They do not create the community; the community
creates them. The histories of the Old Testament record the
progress and fortunes of the people. The historians are of the
people to which their writings relate. The prophets, with what
ever divine gifts of insight and foresight they are endued, spring,
in like manner, out of the people. The fire that spreads along
the earth here and there shoots upward, and sends its light afar.
The psalm is the inspired expression of the devotion of the great
congregation gathered within the temple. Even the Proverbs
have an origin and a stamp among the chosen people which
make them analogous to the proverb elsewhere, " The wisdom of
many, and the wit of one."
As the Gospels were for the Church, so they were from the
Church. Apostles and their disciples composed them to meet
a want in the community in which the authors were members as
well as guides. The Epistles were the product of the Church,
as well as means of its edification. Their authors were moved
by the same Spirit, with whatever difference of mode and of
measure, as the membership among whom they ranked them
selves as brethren. There was not even an intention to compose
a body of sacred literature. The purpose of Providence went
beyond the writers' intent. The very word " Bible," denoting
a single book, results from a blunder. A Greek word, in the
plural, signifying originally " books," it was mistaken in the middle
ages for a Latin noun of the first declension singular. It was not
until the oral teaching of the apostles was beginning to be for
gotten, and their immediate disciples were passing away, that the
churches bethought themselves to gather together in a volume
the writings of the apostles, and writings having an apostolic char
acter. The canon was of slow and gradual formation.
The fundamental reality is not the Bible, it is the kingdom of
God. This is not a notion. Rather is it a real historical fact,
and the grandest of all facts. No other kingdom or common
wealth ever had a more substantial being. It is older than any
other ; it has proved itself stronger and more enduring than any
other ; if there is any good ground for the Christian's faith, it will
embrace or overspread them all. What is this kingdom ? It is
the society of believers in God — the society of his loyal subjects
and children. In its immature stage, under the old dispensation,
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 329
it existed in the form of an organized political community. Among
the nations there lived one people which had true thoughts respect
ing God, into whose hearts he put true thoughts respecting himself.
They became conscious — it was he who inspired them with the
consciousness — of standing in an immediate, peculiar relation to
him. That they were a " chosen people " was a conviction in-
eradicably planted within them. Has not this conviction of theirs
been verified in the subsequent history of mankind ? They were
made to feel that they were not thus distinguished for their own
sake, or on account of any merit of their own, but were chosen to
be witnesses for God to the rest of mankind. There was a divine
purpose of redemption, in which the entire race was to have a
share. In the divine intent, to recover mankind from evil, and to
make the whole earth the abode of righteousness and peace, was
the ultimate goal. The civil polity and the laws of the chosen
people were to reflect the will of God as made known from time
to time through holy and inspired men. The whole course of
their lives was to be regulated by prescriptions issuing from the
same divine source. After the monarchical form of government
was established, revelation still remained the source of law. Side
by side with the kings there stood the prophets to declare the
divine will, to rebuke the iniquitous ruler, and, if need be, to
exhort the people to disobedience. In the complex progress of
the world toward the ideal of human perfection, other peoples,
on the plane of nature, had their respective parts to fulfil. The
one supreme concern of this Hebrew nation was, and was felt to
be, religion. Their function among the nations of the earth was
consciously wrapped up in this one interest. As they well knew,
other religions besides their own were national. All ancient reli
gions were national.
But other religions were on false foundations, and were doomed
to pass away. When the political independence of the Israelites
was lost, their civil polity shattered, the conquered people dragged
off into idolatrous lands, this consciousness of being possessed of
the true religion, and of a grand and triumphant future awaiting
them, not only survived but grew more confident. It not only
outlived political ruin ; under overwhelming calamities it burned
with a more intense fervor. More strange than all, there was a
foresight of a great advance to be made in the intrinsic character
of this divinely given religion, as well as in the extent of the do-
330 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
minion to be gained by it. The basis of the religion was the cove
nant of God with the people. Under this term the ethical relation
of Israel with God, whom Israel worshipped, was conceived and
expressed. The laws and institutions, with the blessings and hopes
for the future which they expressed and betokened, were inter
preted as the conditional promise of the merciful but righteous
Jehovah.1 But the days were to come when there was to be " a
new covenant with the house of Israel, and with the house of
Judah." Religion was one day to become more spiritual; obedi
ence would then no longer be legal or constrained, but spontane
ous ; the knowledge of God and his ways would be confined to
no class, but would be diffused among all ; forgiveness would be
full and free. Such is the remarkable prediction of the prophet
Jeremiah. Centuries flowed on, the great hope was a hope de
ferred ; but the epoch, thus foreseen, at last arrived. The Person
through whom was to be achieved this vast revolution and expan
sion of the kingdom, dimly discerned from afar in certain grand
outlines, at length appeared. Jesus, the Christ, became the
founder of a spiritual and universal society. Whoever will look
into the Gospels will see that it was in this character of the head
of a kingdom that he appeared. It was of the kingdom of God
that John, the forerunner, spoke, as near at hand. It was for pro
fessing to be a king, however the nature of that claim was mis
represented by his accusers, that Christ was put to death. The
prophecy began to be realized when he commenced to teach and
to attract to himself disciples. The kingdom was there. This he
taught when, in answer to the question when the kingdom was to
begin to be, he said, "The kingdom of God cometh not with
observation"; "lo ! . . . the kingdom of God is within you," or
in the midst of you. The kingdom was constituted by Jesois and
the group of disciples who acknowledged him as Lord and Master,
and who, like him, were devoted to the doing of the Father's will.
This last was the criterion of membership in the kingdom, and of
a title to its blessings. Those who were one with Jesus in this
filial allegiance were hailed by him as brother and sister and
mother. Yet the consummation of the kingdom lay in the future.
Hence the kingdom, although a present reality, was a kingdom in
the bud, and therefore a kingdom to come — to come in a double
1 The history and ideas linked to the word " covenant " are concisely stated
by A. B. Davidson, in Hastings' Dictionary of the Bible, i. 509 seq.
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 331
sense, in its moral progress among mankind and in mysterious final
scenes of judgment and victory. So that the prayer of all disci
ples was still to be, " Thy kingdom come " — a supplication that
points both to the continuous progress and transforming influence
of the Gospel in the world, and to the goal of that progress, the
final epoch. Precisely how "the kingdom of Christ" or "the
kingdom of heaven " should be defined is a point on which all are
not agreed. It was declared by Jesus not to be a " kingdom of
this world." Its origin was not earthly, but from above. It was
not, like human sovereignties, to be maintained and spread by
force. The end of the Founder's mission was to bear witness to
the truth. The kingdom was to be made up of those who heard
his voice, who believed and obeyed the witness which he gave.
In the ancient era of the Church there was the Byzantine idea,
which tended to regard the Christian state, with the Roman em
peror at its head, as the realization of the kingdom. In the West
it was the Church in its visible organization under the Papacy that
was identified with the kingdom of Christ. A broader view would
bring within the circumference of the kingdom all the baptized,
in whatever Christian fold. A still broader view is that which
includes within its pale all souls who, accepting Christ as their
Lord and Saviour, live to do the Father's will.
No view of the divine kingdom is adequate which fails to see
that the end of its establishment is the transformation of human
society. The rescue of individuals from sin and punishment is
far from being the whole good to be achieved through the instru
mentality of revealed religion. Its ethical relations are never to
be ignored or undervalued. It is here on earth that the will of
God is to be done. It is here that the desert is " to rejoice, and
blossom as the rose." The aim of the divine kingdom was and is
to renovate political and social life. "Judaism," a recent writer
has well said, " was not a religion merely, but a polity, its aim
being the establishment of righteousness in the relations of men
within the commonwealth ; the political and moral laws and the
national organization form its central point, its kings and judges
being in the fullest sense ministers of God." Nothing less was
designed by the later, the Christian dispensation, following upon
the earlier, than " the establishment and maintenance of true
relations throughout the whole body of a united and organized
humanity, under the influence of the Christian spirit of righteous-
332 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
ness and love." As a means to this end the Church exists —
an organized community, consisting of a portion of human society
in which the renewing power of the Gospel has been experienced.
One might as well doubt whether the sun is in the sky as to
question the reality of that new creation which gives its distinc
tive character to " the Christian era." Out of Judaism there has
come into being a spiritual and universal society, however it may
be more precisely defined, and whatever disputes may exist as to
its boundaries. It may be added here that all organized bodies
which hold the Christian faith, including the Church of Rome as
well as Protestants, unite in pronouncing that the complete deposit
of revealed truth was with Christ and the apostles. The Church of
Rome makes tradition an authorized channel for the transmission
of this truth. But all agree that Christianity is the absolute reli
gion. There is a progress in the understanding of it from age to
age. But the religion itself is not defective, and therefore is not
perfectible. Christianity is not to be put in the same category
with the ethnic religions, which contain an admixture of error, and
are capable of being indefinitely improved. The religion of the
Gospel is absolute. The allegiance of the follower of Christ is
unqualified. " Ye call me Master and Lord : and ye say well ; for
so am I."
Keeping in view this historic kingdom which stands forth as an
objective reality, beginning in the distant past and carried for
ward to i'ts perfected form by Jesus of Nazareth, we have to in
quire what is the relation of the Holy Scriptures to it. The answer
is that they are the documents that make us acquainted with the
kingdom in its consecutive stages up to its completed form. In
the Scriptures we are made acquainted with the facts and the
meaning of the facts. And as in the case of all documentary
materials viewed in contrast with literary products of later elabo
ration, we are brought face to face with the historic transactions
and with the persons who took part in them. This is the peculiar
character of the Scriptures, and is at once the secret of their
transcendent value and the occasion of countless obscurities and
difficulties. By no other means could we become possessed of
knowledge so immediate and so vivid. Yet they give occasion
for the same sort of inquiries that always devolve, in historical
investigation, on those who delve in the sources.
Let us take an illustration from secular history. We will sup-
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 333
pose that the later narratives, such as those of Bancroft and Pal
frey, by which a New Englander learns the origin and growth of
the communities to which he belongs, and their historic relations
to other parts of America, had not been written — the narratives,
we mean, which are based on documentary materials, including
under this head prior accounts whose authors stood nearer to the
circumstances which they relate than the historians of to-day.
We are shut up, we will imagine, to this mass of documentary
materials. There is Bradford's pathetic story of the Pilgrims, of
their flight from their English home to Holland, their voyage
across the Atlantic, their settlement and their experiences at Plym
outh. We have other writings also, — the " Compact of Govern
ment " drawn up in the cabin of the Mayflower ; the diary and
the letters of John Winthrop, the Massachusetts governor ; the
earlier and later codes of colonial law ; the " Bay Psalm Book " ;
Cotton Mather's "Magnalia " ; later still, the history of Hutchinson,
and along with other productions we have discourses of the most
influential preachers in the successive generations. As we ap
proach the epoch of the Revolution we have the letters and
speeches of the patriotic leaders ; the records of the first con
gresses, local and general ; the Declaration of Independence ;
contemporary accounts of the war that followed ; the Constitution
of the United States, and expositions of it by Madison and others
who took part in framing it; official papers of the first President
and his cabinet, etc. Imagine a comprehensive collection of
these documents. It would consist of prose and poetry, of ora
tions, disquisitions, letters, and so forth. Obviously there would
be inconveniences, especially to an untrained, unlearned student.
There would be things hard to understand, obscure allusions,
apparent and real discrepancies of more or less consequence.
Questions of chronology would arise, and might be difficult to
solve — such as pertain to the date of laws and usages, and of
written memorials of the past. A consecutive history prepared by
a modern student of sound critical judgment would plainly have
its advantages. But one superlative advantage it would fail to
have. The reader would not, in anything like an equal degree,
be brought into the atmosphere of the former days. He would
not, in anything like an equal degree, come into living contact
with the events and into direct personal intercourse with the
participants in them. His impressions, if in some particulars
334 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
more exact and more systematic, would lack the color, would want
the vividness, which are to be caught only from the documentary
sources. The difference is like that between a treatise on geog
raphy, or even the descriptions of a traveller, and an actual jour
ney through a country which we seek to know. Let one read
either of the numerous lives of Jesus which have been written by
learned scholars in recent times, even when imaginative power
reenforces the erudition of the author, and then turn to the pages
of the Evangelists. He will feel at once the difference between
second-hand and first-hand accounts ; between those who see
through their own eyes and those who have to use the eyes of
others. The modern scholars furnish us with collateral informa
tion of value, illustrative of the Gospels ; they collate the several
narrators ; they apply the canons of historical criticism with
more or less skill ; but where is that living, speaking portrait of
Jesus, of his walk and his talk, which the original historians, the
apostles and their companions, give us? It is the difference
between the herbarium and the leaves and flowers in field or
forest. In the herbarium the classification is better, but we miss
the bright hues and the perfume of the blossoms. To the bota
nist the herbarium is important, and botany is a useful science
in its place. But the rose-bush, or a grape-vine with the
clusters of fruit hanging upon it, has a charm of its own which
the botanist not more than the unlettered man would be willing to
spare.
The beginnings of old kingdoms and empires are commonly
obscure. They start on their career in the twilight. It is not
until the day has fairly dawned, until some progress has been made
on the path of civilization, that written records arise to be trans
mitted to later times. Even then, contemporary writings are
likely to be scanty and fragmentary. Traditions exist and are
handed down, but they are subject to the influences that affect
the oral transmission of narrative matter from generation to gen
eration. Thus when the past comes to be studied in an enlight
ened age, there is no escape from the necessity of historical
criticism. The historical student, like other laborers, has to earn
his bread by the sweat of his brow. The facts of a remote time
are to be reached only by exploring in places where the light is
dim. Great rivers may traverse empires, spreading fertility along
their banks ; but we have to hunt for their sources. If the cir-
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 335
cumstances of the rise of the kingdom of God are parallel, there
is no good reason for surprise.
The foregoing remarks may throw some light on the question
how Christianity stands affected by biblical criticism. The Chris
tian faith is expressed in a summary form in the ancient docu
ment known as the Apostles' Creed. In its doctrinal aspect, the
Christian faith was formulated early in the fourth century, in the
creed called the Nicene, which, as to its main affirmations, has
been accepted by most organized bodies of Christians. Neither
of these confessions makes any declaration relative to the origin of
scriptural books or the kind and degree of authority that pertains
to them. They are silent on the subject. It is Christianity in its
cardinal facts and principles which they undertake to set forth.
This does not imply an undervaluing of the importance of the
question of the inspiration and authority of the Bible. It illus
trates, however, the point that the Christian system of truth is
separable in thought from varying phases of opinion respecting
the origin and characteristics of the Scriptures.
The perception of divine revelation as having for its end the
building up of a community or kingdom, and as made at the
basis through a history transacted on the earth, lifts us to a
plane where critical problems, within a certain reasonable limit,
may be regarded with comparative indifference. Within that limit
literary questions having to do with the authorship of books, as, for
example, whether it be simple or composite, and whether tradi
tional impressions as to authorship are well founded ; questions
having to do, also, with the correctness of the text which has been
transmitted to us ; questions as to the order of succession in the
stages of development through which the community of God has
passed ; questions as to the faultless accuracy of details in histori
cal narratives, are no longer felt to be of vital moment. They
are not points on which the Christian religion stands or falls. The
timidity which springs out of the idea of Christianity as exclusively
a book religion, every line in whose sacred books is clothed with
the preternatural sanctity ascribed by Mohammedan devotees to
their sacred writings, is dissipated. The Christian believer, as long
as fundamental verities and the foundations on which they stand
are unassailed, is no more disturbed by the unveiling of the human
factor in the origination of the Scriptures, and by finding that
it played a more extensive part than was once supposed. The
336 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
treasure is not lost because it is distinctly perceived to be held " in
earthen vessels."
In the illustrations given above from American history the litera
ture referred to was in the main contemporary with the writings.
This advantage we have approximately in the use of the New
Testament. Critical questions connected with the Old Testament
books and their contents present peculiar difficulties. Yet, on this
topic, a single observation may be made, which will serve still
further to elucidate the meaning of what has been said above.
The observation is, that the religion of Christ stands in an organic
relation to the Old Testament religion, and that this connection,
in its most essential features, is an historical fact that admits of no
rational doubt, whatever views may be taken on other topics per
taining to Old Testament literature. The people that gave birth
to Jesus Christ were a people marked by distinctive peculiarities,
which are well known, abundantly attested, and universally allowed
to have existed. They were worshippers of one God, a living
God, a Spirit, the Creator and sole Sovereign of the universe.
Along with this peculiar, exalted theism there had come to exist
the Messianic expectation. There was to be a great expansion,
purification, triumph, of the kingdom of God — the community of
his worshippers. There was to be a deliverance. There was to
be a world-wide extension of the true religion. These are acknowl
edged facts. How did that state of things come to be ? How
did that peculiar community grow into being, which furnished the
human and temporal conditions of the birth and career of Jesus?
How shall we explain that he was born of Israel, and not of the
Greeks or Egyptians? There is no dispute on the question
whether there is a close, organic connection between the religion
of Palestine and the religion of Christ. It is a fact too patent to
be doubted for a moment.
Back of that peculiar religion, and that whole state of things
which existed in the Palestinian community and its foreign off
shoots at the time when Jesus was born, there lies a history. So
vast and spreading a tree is not without deep roots. It is perfectly
obvious that the Old Testament books are the principal, if not the
exclusive, documents from which we can acquaint ourselves with
the rise and progress of that unique religion which was the pre
cursor and the parent of Christianity. From them we must learn
who were the human leaders, civil and religious, through whose
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 337
mediation that religion advanced from its beginnings, and attained
to the stage of development which it is found to have reached at
the approach of the Christian era. Now, inquiries may be started
as to the order of succession in the laws and in the institutions of
worship, which were not always the same, and even as to what
precisely, was done and contributed by this or that inspired leader
or teacher. These questions do not necessarily touch Christianity
in any vital part. They do not necessarily affect in a vital way
the view that is taken of the history of the people of Israel. In
vestigations of Roman history, even when they require the modi
fication of previous ideas, do not alter fundamentally our conception
of the growth, the polity, and the power of the .Roman Empire.
They only make still clearer the ruling ideas that animated the
Roman people. The history of England is not written now as it
was written a hundred years ago ; but the existence of the Eng
lish monarchy, and the turning-points in its origin and growth, are
Jeft untouched by the scrutiny of historical criticism.
Students of the Old Testament generally enlarge the earliest
group of historical books by adding to it the Book of Joshua, thus
making a " Hexateuch " instead of a Pentateuch. They generally
consider the series of books to be composed of a number of
different documents, varying from one another in their original
dates, with serious variations not a few in their historic details and
interpretations. Not only the books in their present form, but
the constituent documents are considered to have been far later
in their origin than tradition had taught. One consequence of
the change of opinion is a common conception of the order of
events, the reverse of the ordinary view. The period of the
prophets is considered to have preceded that of the law and of
the Hebrew ritual as it is set forth in the Hexateuch. It is a di
versity as to historic theory, or, a geologist might say, in stratifica
tion. The most striking effect of this new chronology is the
contraction of the bounds of contemporary history and of the
historical sources, and the consequent loss, as far as the primitive
era is concerned, of the contemporary evidence which is a princi
pal guaranty of trustworthy narratives. Literary criticism in this
field joins hands with the researches in general history and in
archaeology which pertain to prehistoric ages. The biblical era
most affected in this way is the pre-patriarchal. In this particular
the patriarchal period comes next, showing a perceptible advance.
338 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
The marks of historic credibility increase at the threshold of the
Mosaic era. But one characteristic of the Old Testament narra
tives stands out in distinct relief. It is the fact of divine revela
tion. It is evident from the very first verse of Genesis that the
legends of the Babylonians and other tribes kindred to the He
brews have been sifted of their polytheistic elements. One of the
most eminent and liberal-minded of modern German theologians
was guilty of no exaggeration in the remark that the first three
chapters of Genesis contain more moral and religious truth than
all other books written independently of the influence of the
Bible. Among the Hebrews the conception of a tribal deity by
degrees grows into that of a supreme sovereign, righteous in his
character, with an expanded, even a world-wide control. This
purifying and elevating effect, this monotheistic, ethical faith, so in
contrast with Semitic history elsewhere, is inexplicable save on the
supposition that it is due to the self-revelation of God. The same
fact in the Hebrew religion is presupposed in the rise and progress
of the Messianic expectation. The progress of the Hebrew reli
gion from its earliest stages, as the Old Testament brings it to
light, must have been conditioned on the appearance of leaders
inspired to guide the people onward and about whom the people
could rally. Whatever may be true of individuals described as
such, their historic reality and influence at the great turning-points
have a strong inherent probability.
Even the critics who carry the theory of non-Mosaic authorship
to the point of denying that the decalogue, at least in the form in
which it stands, proceeds from its reputed human author, do not,
as a rule, call in question the fact that Moses was the founder of
the legislation and religious institutions of the nation of Israel.
Reuss, who was one of the most original and learned of the critics
of the modern school, emphatically declares l that the agency of
Moses was of so influential and far-reaching a character that in
the whole course of the history of Israel, prior to Jesus, there ap
peared no personage to be compared with him. He towers
above all that followed in the long line of heroes and prophets.
If the codes, as it would seem, were kept open, still on any view
that does not pass the bounds of reason, "the law came by Moses."
The recollection of the leadership of Moses, of his grand and
dominating agency in the deliverance of the people from bondage,
1 Geschichte d. heiligen Schriften d. A. T., vol. i.
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 339
and in laying the foundations of their theocratic polity, was indel
ibly stamped upon the Hebrew mind. To discredit a tradition so
deeply rooted in the generations that followed would be a folly of
incredulity. It might almost be said that the voice of the great
Lawgiver reverberates down the subsequent ages of Hebrew his
tory, until the appearance of him whose teaching fulfilled, and in
that sense superseded, the utterances of them "of old time."
Ewald has dwelt impressively on the living memory, the memory
of the heart, transmitted from father to son, of the great redemp
tion from Egyptian slavery — the standing type of the mighty
spiritual deliverance to be achieved by a greater than Moses. If
Moses was in reality so effective an agent in forming the Israelitish
nation and in shaping its peculiar system ; if, in truth, so powerful
an impulse emanated from him as critics so competent as Reuss
allow, the question is naturally suggested, whether there would be
wholly wanting (since the art of writing was then well known)
contemporary records, and something from the pen of Moses him
self. If there is nothing improbable in the tradition that he was
learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, then it would be no
marvel if, to some extent, he committed his laws and injunctions
to writing. But these are critical inquiries upon which we are not
called on here to dilate.
In defining the attitude which the Christian believer may rea
sonably take in relation to biblical criticism, there are two or three
considerations which deserve to be specially insisted on. It is
now assumed that the evidences of the supernatural mission of
Jesus, and of his miracles, have produced the conviction which
they warrant. It is obvious, in the first place, that so far as criti
cal theories spring from the rejection of the supernatural, either
as in itself impossible, or as having no function in connection with
the religion of Christ, those theories have no weight. They are
vitiated by the bias which lies at their root. They proceed upon
an unscientific, because disproved, hypothesis that the religion of
the Bible is a purely human product. When it is denied that a
particular author wrote a certain book, or that it was written at a
certain date, or that incidents related in it are true, or that predic
tions in it were made, and this denial depends simply on the a
priori disbelief in the supernatural, it is of no value, and, to a
Christian believer, will carry no weight. A theory respecting the
matters just enumerated may be broached by one who disbelieves
340 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
in the resurrection of Jesus, and it may be sound, although it con
travenes traditional opinion ; but as far as that theory involves, as
a presupposition and a conditio sine qua non, the denial or doubt
of the resurrection, it is worthless. This criterion at once disposes
of a mass of critical speculation about the literature of the Bible
and its contents, which has no more solid foundation than the
arbitrary assumption that a miracle is impossible, or that Chris
tianity is not from God in any other sense than is true of Buddh
ism. Belief in Christianity as coming supernaturally from God
does not justify one in dispensing with critical investigation, which,
it need not be said, in order to be of any value, must be prose
cuted thoroughly and in a candid and truth-loving spirit. Neither
does it justify one in disregarding the canons of historical judg
ment, for the reason that particular features of a narrative are
miraculous, and that miracles are possible, and have actually taken
place at 'points along the line of divine revelation. An historical
religion must verify itself, not only in general and as a whole, but
also in its various parts, to the historical inquirer. That is to say,
from the general truth, when once established, of the supernatural
origin of the religion of the Bible, the strict verity of all the facts
recorded in it, whether natural or supernatural, cannot at once be
logically concluded. The tests of historical criticism must be
applied as well to details as to the system as a whole.
Does it comport with the essentials of Christian belief to hold
that deception may, in any instances, have been used in connection
with the authorship of books of Sacred Scripture ? For example,
can it be admitted that what is known in ecclesiastical history as
" pious fraud" had a part in the framing of scriptural books? For
instance, is it consistent to allow that an author may have palmed
off a book, historical or didactic, as the production of an honored
man of an earlier time? In answer to these questions it is to be
said at the outset that the supposition of an intended deception
ought not to be allowed without satisfactory proof. It cannot be
safely asserted that the author or authors of the apocryphal book
of Enoch, which is referred to in Jude (ver. 14), and no part of
which goes back farther than the age of the Maccabees, meant
that readers should believe Enoch, " the seventh from Adam," to
have been the writer. It may be in this, as no doubt it was in
other cases, a mode of giving dignity and weight to lessons which
the real author thought would be less efficacious if put forth in his
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 341
own name, but which he cast into this form with no intent to have
them believed to be productions of the elder time. At the same
time we should be cautious about assuming that a refinement
of ethical feeling, equal to that which Christianity develops and
demands, existed at all periods under the ancient dispensation.
If there was, in general, an inferior stage in the development of
conscience, it is not incredible that, even in holy men, there was
a less delicate sense of truth and a less sensitive observance of the
obligation of strict veracity. How far it may have pleased the
Divine Being to allow this lack of moral discernment to affect
the literary activity, as we know that it affected in other provinces
the personal conduct and judgment, of holy and inspired men, we
cannot a priori — at least, not with absolute confidence — deter
mine. Everything must yield at last to the fair verdicts of a
searching but reverent scholarship, which explores the field with
the free and assured step of a Christian believer.
This brings us to the further remark that the authority of Christ
and of the apostles, once established by convincing proofs, is de
cisive. Nothing that clashes with that authority, when its charac
ter and limits are rightly understood and defined, can stand. The
evidence against any critical theory which, if admitted, would be
in collision with the authority of Jesus and of the apostles, would
so far forth impinge upon the faith of a Christian. But while this
is to be borne in mind, it is equally necessary to avoid erroneous
interpretations of their teaching, as far as it bears on literary and
critical questions in connection with the Scriptures, their author
ship and contents. A dogmatic utterance on such points, on the
part of the Saviour or of the apostles, is not to be hastily inferred
from references and citations which may not have been designed
to carry this consequence. Not less essential is it to avoid an
incautious, unverifiable extension of the teaching function which
was claimed by Jesus for himself, and was promised by him to
the apostles. The incarnation, in the deeper apprehension of it
which enters into the evangelical theology of the present time,
is perceived to involve limitations of the Saviour himself in statu
humiliationis, which were formerly ignored. A stricter exegesis
does not tolerate an artificial exposition, which was once in vogue,
of passages which assert or indicate such a restriction, voluntary
in its origin, during the period when the Lord was a man among
men. It must be made clear that the Lord intended to declare
342 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
himself on points like those to which we have adverted, and that,
directly or by implication, he meant to include them within that
province which he knew to belong to him as a religious and ethical
teacher, and in which he spoke as " one having authority."
If so much must be admitted by the most reverent disciple
respecting the Great Teacher himself, surely not less must be said
of the apostles. How far peculiarities of education, traditional
and current impressions respecting the topics involved in biblical
criticism, were left untouched, and continued to influence them,
— not only while they were with Jesus, but also after the Spirit of
inspiration had qualified them to go forth as heralds in his service,
— can be settled by no a priori dictum, but only through pro
cesses of careful study. The sooner the wise words of Bishop
Butler are laid to heart by Christian people, the better will it be
for their own peace of mind, and for the cause of Christianity in
its influence on doubters and in its conflict with foes. " The only
question," says Butler, " concerning the truth of Christianity is
whether it be a real revelation, not whether it be attended with
every circumstance which we should have looked for ; and, con
cerning the authority of Scripture, whether it be what it claims to
be, not whether it be a book of such sort, and so promulged, as
weak men are apt to fancy a book containing a divine revelation
should be." l
The apostles were empowered to understand and to expound
the Gospel. The real purport and end of the mission, the death,
the resurrection, of Jesus were opened up to their vision. His
words, brought back to their remembrance, unfolded the hidden
meaning with which they were laden. The relation of the anterior
dispensation to the new era, the one being anticipatory of the
other, they, if not instantly, at least gradually, saw into. Thus
were they qualified to lead, and not to mislead, to teach, and to
guide the Church. But not only were they men of like passions
with ourselves, but in knowledge they had no part in omniscience.
That which inspiration made clear to them was not made clear
instantly and all at once. He who was not behind the chief of
the apostles ranked himself among those who now " see through
a glass, darkly," and waited for the full disclosure of truth which
should supersede his dim and fragmentary perceptions.
There is an order of things to be believed. Before the scrip-
1 See also the context, Analogy, p. ii. c. iii.
RELATION OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH TO THE BIBLE 343
tures of the New Testament, Christ was preached and believed
in : so now, prior to minute inquiries, and the exact formulation
of doctrines, about the canon and inspiration, Christ is offered to
faith. The grand outlines of the Gospel, both on the side of fact
and of doctrine, stand out in bold relief. They are attested by
historical proof. They are verified by evidences which are irre
spective of many of the subjects of theological debate and of
biblical criticism. The recognition of Christ in his character as
the Son of God and Saviour of men is the prerequisite for engaging
successfully in more remote and difficult inquiries respecting the
literature and the history of revealed religion.1
1 The Relation of Biblical Teaching to Natural Science is treated in the
Appendix, Note 22 ; The Relation of Biblical Criticism to Prophecy, in
the Appendix, Note 23.
CHAPTER XIV
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION
" FIRST the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear."
This picture Jesus himself drew of the foreseen expansion of his
kingdom. The kingdom was to be " as if a man should cast seed
upon the earth." He plants it and leaves it ; he sleeps and rises,
"night and day." Meantime the seed springs up and grows, "he
knoweth not how." It goes through, one after another, the stages
of development up to the ripeness of the fruit. A parable, it need
scarcely be said, is framed to illustrate one point, and is not to
be pressed beyond the intended scope. As rain and sunshine are
required for the growth of wheat, we are taught elsewhere that
divine influences are needful, and are never disconnected from
the operation' of the truth in the minds of men. There is enough
complementary teaching of Jesus to preclude any mistake or one
sided view in this direction. Yet the parable shows the confidence
of Jesus in the perpetuity and progress of his kingdom. There
resides in it, so he declared, a self-preserving, self-developing life.
The seed, once planted, might be left with entire unconcern as to
its growth. In these days, when "development" is a word on
every tongue, we are often told that the conception of nature and
natural law is foreign to the Scriptures. No assertion could be
more mistaken. Even on the first page of the Bible, although the
design there is to set in the foreground the creative agency of God,
we read that the earth was bidden to bring forth the grass, the
herb, and the fruit-tree, each yielding, " after his kind," " whose
seed is in itself." In the parable of Jesus of which we are speak
ing it is said that " the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself,"
that is, to transfer the Greek term into English, "automatically."
The epithet is chosen which denotes most precisely a self-acting,
spontaneous energy, inherent in the seed which Jesus, through his
discourses, his acts of mercy and power, and his patience unto
death, was sowing in the world. This grand prophetic declaration,
344
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 345
uttered in a figure so simple and beautiful, in the ears of a little
company of Galileans, was to be wonderfully verified in the coming
ages of Christian history.
It is not, however, the progress of Christianity since it was fully
introduced by Christ and the apostles that we have now to con
sider. The development of the understanding of Christianity on
the side of doctrine and of ethics, the advance to a more and
more just and enlightened comprehension of the Christian religion,
the unveiling of the riches of meaning involved in it, is a fascinat
ing theme. But all this belongs under the head of the interpreta
tion of Christianity, that term being used in a broad sense. The
religion of the Gospel means vastly more to-day than it was ever
perceived to mean before. This enlarged meaning, however, is
not annexed to it or carried into it, but legitimately educed
from it, through. the ever widening perceptions of Christian men
whom the Spirit of God illuminates. The starry heavens are now
what they were of old ; there is no enlargement of the stellar
universe except that which comes through the increased power
and use of the telescope. The globe on which we dwell to-day is
the same that it was twenty centuries ago. Yet during the past
ages there has been a progressive advance in astronomical and
geographical discovery. No one commits the blunder of con
founding discovery with creation.
What we have to speak of now is development and progress
in the contents of Revelation itself, in the interval between its
remotest beginnings and the epoch when the apostles finally
handed it over in its ripe, consummated form to the Church, to
be thereafter promulgated throughout the world. Of divine
revelation itself the saying is likewise true, " First the blade, then
the ear, then the full corn in the ear." The fact that Revelation
was progressive, that it went forward like the advance from dawn
to noonday, may suggest the hasty, unwarranted conclusion that it
was a natural process merely. Some will be quick to leap to this
rash inference. As regards natural religion, the fact that creation
is found to have been progressive, that unsuspected links unite its
consecutive stages, that the tendency of science is to unveil a
certain continuity in nature, leads the short-sighted to ignore the
supernatural altogether. They imagine that there is no need to
call in God to explain nature except where breaks are met in the
chain of mechanical causation. It is enough, they imagine, to be
346 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
able to trace back the planetary system to a fiery vapor preceding
it, as if the existence, or the order, or the beauty, of the astro
nomic system were thereby explained. If it be true that the plants
in their multiplied species " or kinds " spring out of a few primi
tive germs, or out of only one, the evidence of forethought and
will-power in the organization of the vegetable kingdom is not in
the least weakened. Nor would it be effaced if the spontaneous
generation of the living from the lifeless were an ascertained fact
of science. It is another fruit of that same unreflecting tendency
to dispense with God where there is observed an orderly progress
of phenomena, which leads to the ignoring or denial of the super
natural in connection with the gradually developing religion of
redemption. The critical researches of the time disclose bonds
of connection between successive stages of religious and moral
teaching in the sacred volume. As in geology, there is less need
than was formerly thought to fall back on the supposition of
catastrophes along the path. The rudiments of what once seemed
an utterly new form or phase of doctrine are detected at a point
farther back. Behind the most impressive inculcations of truth
are found the more or less unshapen materials out of which they
were framed. The statue is followed back through the different
sets of workmen to the quarry where the marble was hewn out of
its bed. Before the Lord's Prayer was given by the Master, some
of the petitions contained in it had lain dispersed, like grains of
gold, in the arid waste of rabbinical teaching. The first effect on
a novice in literary studies of looking behind Shakespeare's plays
to the tales out of which they were woven, is to lessen in some
slight degree his previous impression of the poet's originality. In
a much greater degree is this effect produced by a first glance at
the spoils of the past which Milton gathered — from Homer, the
Greek tragedians, Dante — and incorporated into his poems.
That revealed religion is revealed, and is not the product of
human genius, despite the gradual unfolding of that religion and
the coherence of its parts, becomes increasingly evident the more
thoroughly its characteristics are appreciated. Its unique charac
ter finds no satisfactory explanation in the native tendencies of
the Semitic race. History belies such a naturalistic solution,
of which Renan is one of the later advocates. This can be said
while it is conceded that there were, no doubt, qualities in the
Hebrew people which caused them to be selected as the recipi-
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 347
ents of revelation, and as witnesses for God to the rest of man
kind. When we contemplate the true religion in its long,
continuous advance upward to its culmination in the Gospel of
Christ ; when we survey this entire course of history as a con
nected whole, we are struck with the conviction of super
natural agency and authorship. When the outcome appears at
the end in Jesus Christ and his work, light is thrown back on the
divine ordering of the long series of antecedent steps. The
accompaniment of miracle is a crowning token, reenforcing all
other proofs of the supernatural, and confirming faith by an
argument to the senses.
In glancing at the historic process of revelation, as that is dis
closed by the scriptural documents, there is one transition which
none can overlook. It is the contrast, on which the apostle Paul
builds so much, between law and gospel, the old covenant and the
new. It is true that the Old Testament is not wanting in procla
mations of the merciful character of God. It was a part of the
life and soul of the books of prophecy. The apostle Paul himself
insists that the Old Testament religion was, in its very foundation,
a religion of promise, and that the function of the law was to fill
an intermediate space and to do a subsidiary office, prior to the
realization of the promise. His doctrine is, moreover, that even
the Gospel contains a new disclosure of God's righteousness,
which was made necessary by his having passed over human sins
in the period of comparative ignorance. The atonement pre
vents the misconstruction which the divine forbearance in dealing
with law-breakers in the earlier times might occasion. Still,
the older revelation of God was comparatively a manifestation
designed to impress on those to whom it was made his justice
and unsparing abhorrence of transgression. Only as far as ill-desert
is felt can pardon be either given or received. An education of
conscience must precede a dispensation of grace. The later
revelation was one of forgiving love. The superiority of Christi
anity to the Old Testament religion is the subject of the Epistle
to the Hebrews. Its author will show that Christ is the " medi
ator of a better covenant " — a covenant with " better promises."
"For," he pointedly remarks, "if that first covenant had been
faultless," there would have been no occasion and no room for
the second. The world-embracing compass of God's love, its
inclusion of the Gentile races, was one of the prime elements in
348 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the Gospel. This was the " mystery " which had been hidden
from " ages and generations." The ordinary meaning of the
term " mystery " in the New Testament writings is not something
which is still unknown or inscrutable, but something which had
before been concealed from human knowledge, but had now been
brought to light. And the term is specially applied to the pur
pose of God to show mercy to the world of mankind — a purpose
which had been partially concealed from men, or at best but
obscurely divined. That in the older dispensation rules were in
the foreground ; in the later, principles, is a more comprehensive
statement of the difference.
What precisely was the conception of God which was enter
tained in the earliest periods of Hebrew history is a subject of
debate. There are questions which will be settled variously,
according to the different views which are adopted respecting
the date and relative authority of the documents. That the pro
cess of expelling the vestiges of polytheism and image-worship from
the practices of the Israelitish people was accomplished slowly, is
sufficiently clear. The cult of household images did not at once
disappear. The assumption, involved in language uttered by the
heathen, that the gods of other nations than Israel are real beings
and exercise power, although it may be less than the power of
Israel's God, of itself determines nothing as to the doctrine of
Israel's own accredited teachers. But Jethro, although a Midian-
ite prince, was the father-in-law of Moses, and we find him saying,
" Now I know that the Lord is greater than all gods." Jephthah
says to a Moabite king : " Wilt thou not possess that which Che-
mosh thy god giveth thee to possess? So whomsoever the Lord
our God hath dispossessed from before us, them will we possess."
Even Solomon wavered in his beliefs on this subject. Side by side
with the altars of Jehovah he built altars to foreign gods. Even in
the early Church the idea prevailed that the deities of the heathen
were demons — really existing, but evil and inferior in power. It
would be natural for the half- enlightened Hebrews to imagine that
there was some sort of territorial limit to the jurisdiction of the
God whom they worshipped. An indistinct idea of this kind is at
least a natural explanation of the story of the attempted flight of
the prophet Jonah to Tarshish, which lay on the western border
of the Mediterranean. There is a curious disclosure of a natural
feeling in the fact recorded, without censure or comment of any
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 349
sort, of Naaman, the Syrian captain. He craved permission to take
into Syria two mules' burden of earth, — the sacred soil of Israel,
— that upon it he might offer sacrifice to Jehovah. Scholars of
high repute consider the earliest belief of the descendants of
Abraham to have fallen short of a positive monotheism, and to
have been rather a monolatry, — the worship of one God to the
exclusion of all other worship, but without an explicit disbelief in
the existence of other divinities who have respectively their own
earthly realms to govern. Then the progress of faith would
include, first, the idea of the God of Israel as more powerful than
all other deities ; and then, later, the ascription to him of almighti-
ness, and the distinct conviction that all other gods are fictitious
beings. The path from a more narrow conception of God to a
pure and absolute monotheism involved a deepening ethical idea
of the attributes of Israel's God. Wellhausen writes, " Jehovah be
came the God of Justice and Right ; as God of Justice and Right
he came to be thought of as the highest, and at last as the only,
power in heaven and earth." The reader of statements of this
kind should bear in mind that we are in a field where preposses
sion and speculative theorizing play a great part. If Jehovah, at
the outset, was regarded as simply the tribal god, the sovereign
protector of that one people, while the other nations were imag
ined to have each its own guardian divinity, the expansion of this
primitive notion into the pure and lofty conception of the only
true and living God, the world's creator and ruler, which is pre
sented in soul-stirring language by the most ancient prophets, is a
marvel. The transformation is really insoluble on any naturalistic
theory. Even on the supposition that there was this gradual up
lifting of religion from the low plane on which all pagan nations
stood, and that the notion of a mere local divinity, of limited
control, gave way to the majestic conception of one Lord of
heaven and earth, the maker of all things, the ruler of nations,
the universal sovereign, — no conclusion would be so reasonable
as that God Almighty took this method of gradually disclosing
his being and attributes to that portion of the human race from
whom, as from a centre, the light of the true faith was eventually
to radiate to the rest of mankind.
Neither the Hebrew people generally nor their leaders were
metaphysicians. In the earlier ages especially, they entered into
no analytic discrimination of matter and spirit. They pictured
350 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
to themselves the varied activities of God, of whose personality
they had the most vivid idea, in phrases descriptive of the feel
ings and actions of human beings. It is remarkable that the
anthropomorphism of the scriptural writers is predominantly in
what is related of Jehovah, the name of God in his relation to the
chosen people, — the Deity (Elohim) as the God of Revelation.
At length, by explicit statute, all visible representations of God
were forbidden as profane. In Deuteronomy, as in Exodus,
images of him are prohibited. "Ye saw no manner of form on
the day that the Lord spake unto you in Horeb " (Deut. iv. 15).
The prophets guarded against all material associations attaching
to the notion of the Supreme Being. A distinct step in this
direction is to be observed in a passage in Isaiah, where it is said,
" Now the Egyptians are men, and not God ; and their horses
flesh, and not spirit" (Is. xxxi. 3). Yet it is not definitely said
in the Old Testament that God is a spirit. This was the declara
tion of Jesus to the woman of Samaria.
The universal Providence of God is a cardinal element in
Christian theism. Nothing is independent of him. There is no
province exempt from his control, where rival agencies hold sway
and thwart his designs. We can easily understand why, in the
early stages of revelation, all emphasis should be laid on the
sovereign power of God, and why a clear separation of his direct
efficiency from his permissive act should be reserved for a later
day. It was always taught, indeed, and holds true for all time,
that according to a law of habit, of which the Creator of the soul
is the author and sustainer, sin engenders further sin. A self-
propagating power inheres in transgression. In numberless ex
amples it is observed that sin is thus the penalty of sin. It is true
now, as it was always true, that a loss of moral discernment and a
fixedness of perverse inclination are an ordained effect of persist
ent evil-doing. The law which entails this result is but another
name for a divine operation. Hence it is a false and superficial
theology which will find no place for "judicial blindness " and for
a " hardening of heart " that deserves to be called a judgment of
God. So far the scriptures of the New Testament are in full
accord with the scriptures of the Old. But there are certain
forms of representation which, in the introductory periods of Reve
lation, go beyond these statements, and ascribe to God a positive
and immediate agency in the production of moral evil. Some-
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 351
times the hardening of the heart is spoken of as if it were the end
which is directly aimed at. Such passages, taken by themselves,
would warrant the harshest doctrine of reprobation which hyper-
Calvinism has ever broached. The proper treatment of such
passages is not — certainly not in all cases — to pronounce them
hyperboles. It is not through unnatural devices of interpretation
that we are to rid ourselves of the difficulty which passages of this
nature occasion. The reference of them to a fervid rhetoric — in
some instances, to say the least — may not be the right solution.
Why may we not see in them that vivid idea of God's limitless
power and providence which has not yet arrived at the point, or
felt the need, of qualifying the conception by theological discrimi
nations? If it be asked how it was possible to reconcile the
perception of the ill-desert of sin with the ascription of it to God's
causal agency, the answer is that the question of their consistency
was not thought of. Reflection was required before their incon
sistency could attract attention, and the need of removing it be
felt. In more than one philosophical system — for example, in
Stoicism — there is found an earnest ethical feeling, which con
demns wrong action, side by side with a metaphysical theory as
to the origin of moral evil which logically clashes with such an
abhorrence of it. The two judgments do not jostle each other,
because they are not brought together in the thoughts of those
who entertain them. Where there is more reflection in the mat
ter, as in Spinoza and his followers, it is still possible to keep up
a degree of moral disapproval along with a theory which really
ought to banish it as absurd. In the ancient scriptures, and
occasionally in the New Testament, especially in passages cited
from the Old, the evil-doing and perdition of classes of men, their
misunderstanding and perversion of the truth, are set forth as
ends in themselves. Being involved in the circle of occurrences
which are comprised in the general scheme of Providence, they
are no surprise to him who carries it forward. They were fore
seen and taken into the account from the beginning. It was
arranged that they should be overruled and made the occasion of
good. Their relation to Providence is emphasized in speaking of
them as being directly aimed at and pursued on their own account,
or for the sake of an ulterior benefit. As we follow down the
progress of Revelation, we see that needful distinctions are more
frequently made and more carefully insisted on. In the second
352 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
book of Samuel (xxiv. i) it is said that God " moved" David
against Israel, with whom he was displeased, and bade him go
and number the people. The impulse or resolution of David, on
account of which he was subsequently struck with compunction,
is there said to have emanated directly from God himself. But
in the later history (i Chron. xxi. i), in the record of the same
transaction, we read that it was Satan who " provoked David to
number Israel." The earlier writer does not hesitate to describe
God's providential act as if it were the direct object of his prefer
ence, — an explicit injunction ; and the fact of David's repentance
for doing the act does not present to the writer's mind any diffi
culty. The chronicler, from a later point of view, sets forth the
act of David in such a way as to exclude, if not to contradict,
the supposition that it was God who prompted it.
The gradualness of the disclosure of the merciful character of
God is one of the most obvious features of Revelation. One part
of this disclosure pertains to the heathen, and to the light in which
they are regarded. It was natural that the contempt and loathing
which idolatry and the abominations of paganism excited in the
heart of the pious Israelite — feelings which the Mosaic revelation
developed and stimulated — should be felt towards heathen wor
shippers themselves. The hatred thus begotten might awaken an
implacable desire that vengeance should fall upon them. An
impressive rebuke of this unmerciful sentiment, and what is really
a distinct advance in the inculcation of an opposite feeling, is
found in the book of Jonah. There are reasons which have availed
to satisfy critics as learned and impartial as Bleek, who are
influenced by no prejudice against miracles as such, that this
remarkable book was originally meant to be an apologue, — an
imaginative story, linked to the name of an historical person, a
prophet of an earlier date, — and was composed in order to incul
cate the lesson with which the narrative concludes. One thing
brought out by the experience of Jonah is that God's mercy is so
great that even an explicit threat of dire calamities may be left
unfulfilled, in case there intervene repentance on the part of those
against whom it was directed. The prophet, who was exasperated
at the sparing of the Ninevites, was taught how narrow and cruel
his ideas were, by the symbol of the gourd, " which came up in a
night, and perished in a night." He was incensed on account of
the withering of the gourd which had shielded his head from the
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 353
sun. The Lord referred to Jonah's having had pity on the gourd,
and said, "And should not I spare Nineveh, that great city,
wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot dis
cern between their right hand and their left hand ; and also much
cattle? " This humane utterance, in which pity is expressed even
for dumb brutes, is memorable for being an important landmark in
Scripture, since it marks a widened view of God's compassion.
To illustrate this truth the narrative was written, and toward it as
onward to a goal it steadily moves. It is a mistake to think that
ill-will toward heathen nations pervades the Old Testament.
When they were full of animosity against the kingdom of God and
determined to destroy it, anger burned fiercely against them, and
prayers went up for their defeat and destruction. Very different
was the feeling with which Cyrus and the Persians were regarded.
We find that the conversion of the heathen nations becomes an
object of devout aspiration. The sublime prayer of Solomon, at
the dedication of the temple, for the " stranger " and " the peoples
of the earth," is only one of the passages in which this feeling is
poured out. In Micah, who was not the latest of the prophets, we
find the prediction that unto the mountain of the Lord the heathen
peoples will flow, will ask to be taught of his ways, and will prom
ise to "walk in his paths " (Micah iv. 1-4). An idea of the king
dom at once so comprehensive and so spiritual was the fruit of time
and progress.
The truth of a righteous moral government over the world per
vades Revelation from the beginning. Obedience to law will not
fail of its due reward ; guilt will be punished in a just measure.
But under the Old Testament system, nearly to its close, the
theatre of reward and penalty was confined to this world. The
horizon was practically bounded by the limits of the earthly life.
It was here, on earth, that well-doing was to secure the appropriate
blessing, and sin to encounter its meet retribution. The Israelite,
like other men of antiquity, was wrapped up in the state. He felt
that his weal or woe hinged on the fortunes of the community in
whose well-being his affections were, in a degree beyond our
modern experience, absorbed. The prophets never ceased to
thunder forth the proclamation that the fate of the community
would be surely, in the providence of God, determined by its
fidelity or its disloyalty to its moral and religious obligations. If
they deserted God, he would forsake them. The people were to
2A
354 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
be rewarded or punished, blessed or cursed, as a body. And so in
reality their experience proved. Moreover, as regards the single
family and the individual, the tendencies of righteous action,
under the laws of Providence, were then, as always, on the whole
favorable to the upright in heart. The arrangements of Providence
were in their favor. But in process of time it became more and
more painfully evident that this rule was not without numerous
exceptions. The righteous man was not uniformly prospered.
He might be poor, he might be oppressed, he might be condemned
to endure physical torture, he might perish in the midst of his
days. On the other hand, the wicked man was often seen to
thrive. His wealth increased. He grew in power and influence.
His life was prolonged. How could the justice of God be
defended? How could the allotments of Providence — this dis
harmony between character and earthly fortune — be vindicated ?
This problem became the more anxious and perplexing as the
minds of men grew to be more observant and reflective. How to
explain the lack of correspondence between the condition and the
deserts of the individual? This problem is the groundwork of
the book of Job. A righteous man is overwhelmed by calamities
one after another. His lot is to himself a dark and terrible
mystery. But his consolers, when they break silence, solve it in
the only way known to their theology. Such exceptional suffering
implies an exceptional amount of guilt. Job must have been a
flagrant transgressor. Of this fact his dismal situation is proof
positive. The wrath of Jehovah is upon him. Conscious of the
injustice of the allegation brought against him, yet unable to con
fute the logic of it, Job can do nothing but break out in loud com
plaints extorted by his anguish and the bewilderment into which
he is thrown. He cannot see any equity in the lot which has be
fallen him. His outcries give vent to a pessimistic view of the world
and of the divine management of it. Another interlocutor brings
forward the inscrutable character of God's doings. What more
vain and arrogant than for so weak and helpless a creature as man
to pretend to sound the unfathomable counsels of the Almighty,
or to sit in judgment on his ordinances? This, of course, is a
rebuke, but contains no satisfactory answer to the questions which
the distress of Job wrings from him. But the real answer is given.
Afflictions may have other ends than to punish. They may be
trials of the righteousness of a servant of God. They are a test
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 355
to decide whether it springs out of a mercenary motive. Hence
it is not to be inferred that his sufferings are the measure of his
ill-desert. Thus a distinct advance is made in the theodicy.
New vistas are opened. Pain has other designs and uses besides
the retributive function. Yet at the end Job's possessions and his
earthly prosperity are restored to him. The feeling that even
here on earth there must be, sooner or later, an equalizing of
character and fortune, is not wholly given up.
External evidence is of no service in determining the date of
the book of Job. Internal evidence, especially the character of
its themes and reasonings, indicate that it could not have been
written earlier than when the monarchy was verging on its down
fall. Another book, Ecclesiastes, belongs to a period when doubt
and speculation had made a much further advance. It may be
long to the closing days of the Persian, or the early days of the
Greek, dominion. It is the composition of a keen-sighted ob
server of human life in its multiform aspects and, it would seem,
with a large personal experience of its necessities. In the course
of a stream of sceptical and pessimistic utterances on human ex
istence as a scene of inevitable disappointment, with no hope of
a hereafter, we find interjected, here and there, the recognition
of God and his government. We reach at the close a solemn
reminder of the righteous order under his sway and of duty as the
sum of human wisdom. To some of the critics this conclusion
appears to be the supplement of another writer or editor, but as
Driver suggests, it may quite as probably have sprung from the sense
of the need on the part of the author, of such a conclusion, to
counteract the impression of the preceding portions of his work.
The species of doubt, leading to an almost cynical tone, which
characterize it, indicate that speculation and even rationalizing
were coming in. The book has perplexed alike ancient Jews and
modern Christian theologians and critics. It was not until after
centuries that at the Jewish council of Jamnia (about 90 A.D.) its
admission to the Canon of the Old Testament was sanctioned.
It is one of the books which compel the perception of different
degrees of inspiration in the scriptures. Its admission into the
canon is not to be regretted. It has a part in the Old Testament
documents in showing us the successive phases of the Hebrew
religious consciousness in its age-long development under the
tutelage of Providence and the unerring light upon things not
seen, imparted by the spirit of God.
356 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Besides the lesson conveyed in the book of Job, it was revealed
then to the religious mind that suffering, besides being inflicted
as the wages of sin, might also be sent to put to the test the stead
fastness of the sufferer's loyalty to God, to prove the unselfish
ness of piety (by showing that it might survive the loss of all
personal advantages resulting from it), and to fortify the soul in
its principle of obedience and trust. But relief from perplexity
in view of the calamities of the righteous came from another
source. This was the perception of the vicarious character of the
righteous man's affliction. This idea emerges to view in a distinct
form in the great prophets. The pious portion of Israel, the kernel
of the people, suffer not for their own sake, but on account of the
sins of the nation, and as a means of saving it from deserved pen
alties and from utter destruction. This view is brought out by
Isaiah in his description of the servant of Jehovah. The concep
tion is gradually narrowed from Israel as a whole, or the select
portion of Israel, and becomes more concrete ; so that in the
fifty-third chapter the sufferer appears to take on the distinct
character of an individual, the Messianic deliverer. It is declared
that the popular judgment respecting the sufferer, which attributes
to him personal guilt, and sees in his lot the frown of God, is mis
taken. Penalties are laid on him, he is taking on himself penalties
which not he, but others, deserve to bear. How this principle of
vicarious service is illustrated in the life and death of Jesus, and
how abundantly it is set forth in the New Testament, it is need
less to say. The men whose blood Pilate had mingled with
their own sacrifices were not sinners above all the Galileans.
The eighteen on whom the tower of Siloam fell were not
offenders above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem. Who had
sinned, the blind man or his parents, that he was born blind?
His blindness, Jesus replied, was not a penalty for the sin of
either. This problem of the distribution here on earth of suffer
ing in discordance with desert, of which we are speaking, had
new light shed upon it by the gradually developing faith in the
future life ; but of this point I will speak further on. In general,
the contrast between the general tenor of Old Testament descrip
tions of the reward of the righteous, and of the New Testament
declarations on the same theme, is very marked. In the Old
Testament it is riches, numerous children, safety of person and of
property, which are so often assured to the righteous. The words
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 357
of Jesus are, " In the world ye shall have tribulation." Yet the
essential character of God, the eternal principle of justice that
will somehow and somewhere be carried out in the government
of the world, is at the root alike in both dispensations.
He who would appreciate the progress of Revelation has only
need to compare the silence as to a hereafter and the gloom that
encompasses the grave — characteristic features of ancient Scrip
ture — with the definite assurances and the triumphant hopes
which are scattered over the pages of the New Testament. On
this subject we can trace the advance from the night to the
brightening dawn, and from the dawn to midday. The hopes and
aspirations of the ancient Israelites were bounded by the limits
of the present life. Their joys and sorrows were here ; here, as
we have seen, were their rewards and punishments. It is true
they did not positively believe that their being was utterly extin
guished at death. On the contrary, they found it impossible so
to think. There was some kind of continuance of their being,
vague and shadowy though it was. When it is said of the worthies
of old that they died and were "gathered to their fathers," it is
not to their burial — certainly not to their burial alone — that the
phrase points. It was used of those who died far away from their
kindred. A continued subsistence of some sort is implied in it.
Necromancy was a practice which was forbidden by law ; and the
need of such a law proves that the belief and custom prohibited
by it had taken root. The story of the appearance of Samuel,
and the occupation of the witch of Endor, show at least a popular
notion that the dead could be summoned back to life. Sheol, the
Hades of the Israelites, was thought of as a dark, subterranean
abode, a land of shades, where existence was almost too dim to
be denominated life. There was nothing in this unsubstantial
mode of being to kindle hope, or to excite any other emotion
than that of dread. In the poetical books, Sheol is personified
and depicted as full of greed, opening her mouth " without meas
ure," and swallowing up all the pomp and glory of man. In a
splendid passage of Isaiah, Sheol is represented as disturbed by
the approach within her gloomy domain of the once mighty king
of Babylon, and as stirring up the shades, the dead monarchs, to
meet him. They exult over his downfall and death, crying, " Is
this the man who made the earth to tremble, who made kingdoms
to quake, who made the world as a wilderness, and broke down
358 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the cities thereof ? " But this is only a highly figurative delinea
tion of the humiliating fall and death of the arrogant, dreaded
sovereign. It is not until we have passed beyond the earlier writ
ings of the Old Testament that we meet, here and there, with
cheerful and even confident expressions of hope in relation to the
life beyond death. In the later Psalms there is an occasional
utterance in this vein. The sense of the soul's communion with
God is so uplifting as to forbid the idea that it can be broken by
death. Jesus refers to the Old Testament declaration that God
is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as a sufficient warrant
for the belief in the continued immortal life of those who stood
in this near, exalted relation to the Eternal One. What other —
at least what higher — evidence of immortality is there than is
derived from the worth of the soul ; and what indication of its
worth is to be compared with its capacity to enter into living
fellowship with God ? How can a being who is admitted to this
fellowship be left to perish, to exist no more ?
Besides this connection of faith in a future life with the relation
of the righteous and believing soul to God, the demand for an
other state of being to rectify inequalities here arose by degrees in
religious minds. The strange allotment of good and evil, whereby
the good man, and not the bad man, was often seen to be the suf
ferer, and the holy were found to be maligned and the victims of
oppression, led to the expectation of a life beyond, where this con
fusion would be cleared up and an adjustment be made according
to merit. The moral argument, which Kant, and others before
and since, have presented as the ground for believing in a future
state, was a revelation from God to the Hebrew mind, and not the
less so because this belief stood connected with experiences and
perceptions that went before. There is a familiar passage in the
book of Job in which the hope of a reawakening from death is
perhaps expressed. It is the passage beginning, " I know that
my Redeemer " — or Vindicator — " liveth." The confessions of
hopelessness in earlier portions of the book, the impassioned asser
tions that there is nothing to be looked for beyond death, are to
be counted in favor of the other interpretation, according to which
Job expected that his vindication would occur prior to his actual
dissolution. On the contrary, however, it is not improbable that
the foresight of an actual reawakening to life is represented as
having flashed upon his mind, displacing the former despondency.
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 359
Certain it is that distinct assertions of a resurrection appear, here
and there, in the later Scriptures. For in the biblical theology it
is the deliverance of the whole man, body as well as soul, which
in process of time comes to be the established belief. It is closely
associated with the conviction that in the triumph and blessedness
of the kingdom the departed saints are not to be deprived of a
share. It was not a belief derived from the Persians, but was in
digenous among the Hebrews, — an integral part of revelation, —
however it may have been encouraged and stimulated by contact
with Persian tenets. Not to refer to statements, relative to a resur
rection, of a symbolical character, — such as the vision of dry bones
in Ezekiel, — we find in the twenty-sixth chapter of Isaiah a pas
sage which is explicit, and, as it would seem, is to be taken literally.
In the Revised Version the passage reads, " Thy dead shall live ;
my dead bodies shall arise." There is a critical question, it should
be stated, as to the date of the chapter in which these words
occur. In the Psalms there are not wholly wanting passages of a
like purport. In the book of Daniel, which belongs, certainly in
its present compass, to the Maccabean period, the resurrection of
both the righteous and the wicked Israelites is very definitely pre
dicted. As is well known, the resurrection was an accepted doc
trine of orthodox Jews in the period following that covered by the
canonical books. In the New Testament, immortality, and with
it the resurrection, stands in the foreground. Through the death
and resurrection of Jesus there comes a new illumination, a signal
disclosure of God's purpose of grace and of the blessed import of
eternal life ; so that death is said to be " abolished," and life and
incorruption "brought to light " (2 Tim. i. 10).
Other illustrations, within the sphere of religion as distinguished
from ethics, of the gradual progress of Revelation, will occur to
every student of the Bible. One of these we may find in the devel
opment of the idea of sacrifice. Among ancient peoples generally,
the approach to a superior — a human lord — was by supplications
and gifts. In the same way it was natural to approach the divinity,
and come into immediate intercourse with him. As far as a special
character belonged to Hebrew sacrifices, it was owing to the
higher conceptions of God which pertained to the religion of
Israel, and to the express ordinances and regulations under which
all religious observances were placed. But the Old Testament
sacrifices were gifts to God, varying in their specific import by
360 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
the particular feelings to be expressed and the particular benefits
to be sought. A surrender was made of something precious, sig
nifying self-devotion to Jehovah on the part of him who brought
the offering. When there was a rupture of relations by reason of
sin, the sacrifice took on a modified significance, and peculiar expe
riences of feeling were evoked in connection with it. In the age
of the prophets, the spiritual elements of religion are brought into
the foreground, and in comparison with them, and in case they
are absent, the worthlessness of all ceremonial practices is loudly
proclaimed. This elevated view comes out in the fifty-first Psalm,
where God is said not to delight in sacrifice, but to crave as an
offering " a broken and a contrite heart." The sacrifices of the
ritual system might avail to take away the pain of self-reproach for
a time, and with reference to particular transgressions. But the
insufficiency of offerings of this nature became increasingly evident,
At last the essential idea of sacrifice was realized and exhibited by
him who could say of himself, " Lo, I am come to do thy will "
(Heb. x. 9). Here was no outward gift, but himself — his own
life — that was brought, in a willing surrender, to the Father.
Here was the climax of self-denial, or devotion to the Father's
will and appointment. " He loved us and gave himself up
for us" (Eph. v. 2). The self-surrender of the Christian, even
of his body, to God, the dedication of himself to God, is styled
by the apostle Paul our "reasonable," or spiritual, "service," in
contrast with the external and visible sacrifices of the old ritual
(Rom. xii. i).
Another illustration still is presented in the Messianic idea, as
that idea is gradually unfolded and by degrees transfigured in the
Old Testament, and carried to perfection in the New. Messianic
prophecy passes forward from its immature, germinant state in the
earlier times, until it appears in the lofty and spiritual forms in
which it blossoms out in later ages. The Old Testament commu
nity was itself prophetic. Everything in it pointed to the future.
The very fact that God had entered into a direct relation to this
one people carried in it the promise of victory and universality.
But what should be the characteristic features of the coming day, —
this was a matter on which light must be shed gradually. Only as
the community grew and advanced could it be taught to compre
hend itself and forecast the future. A progress or growth of
prophecy was therefore a necessary incident. Even inspired men
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 361
could never be transported to a distant age. There were always
limits in the prophetic anticipation, colors in the picture caught
from the scenery and atmosphere in the midst of which the prophet
lived and wrote. In the blessing recorded of Jacob, in his saying
that the sceptre should not depart from Judah ; in those exultant
prophecies of the dominion that would be gained by the kingdom
of David and his successors, which we meet with in the Psalms ;
in the foresight, granted to the great prophets of Israel, of an ap
proaching era of universal righteousness and peace ; in the portrait,
in the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, of the suffering servant of Jeho
vah, — we find different phases of Messianic prediction. In that
chapter of the " evangelical prophet " the anticipation comes
nearest to the ideal in certain essential features. But for the ideal
purified from all imperfections of time and place and finite appre
hension we must look to the character of the Messiah himself,
and to the work actually achieved by him.
When we leave theology for the domain of ethics, the progres
sive character of Revelation is capable of abundant illustration.
The Sermon on the Mount has for its theme that fulfilment of
law, that unfolding of its inner aim and essence, which Christ
declared to be one end of his mission. Morality is followed down
to its roots in the inmost dispositions of the heart. The precepts
of Jesus are a protest against the Pharisaical glosses which tradi
tion had attached to Old Testament injunctions. It is "the right
eousness of the Scribes and Pharisees " which is pointedly
condemned. It is still a controverted question, however, whether
the reference to what had been said by or to " them of old time "
was intended to include Old Testament legislation itself, as well
as the perverse, arbitrary interpretations which had been attached
to it by its theological expounders. Plainly the injunction of
Jesus to love the enemy as well as the neighbor goes beyond the
directions in Leviticus (xix. 17, 18) : "Thou shalt not hate thy
brother in thine heart. . . . Thou shalt not take vengeance, nor
bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself." Here nothing is said of any except
the " neighbor." The prohibition is limited to the treatment of
national kinsmen. That, the general obligation to the exercise of
good-will toward wrong-doers and foes, wherever they may be,
and to the cultivation of a forgiving temper toward all men, finds
in the Gospel an unprecedented expansion and emphasis, is evi-
362 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
dent to all readers of the New Testament. A supplication for the
pardon of enemies forms a part of the Lord's Prayer. The hope
of personal forgiveness is denied to those who are themselves un
forgiving. The example of Jesus, and the pardon offered to the
most unworthy through him, are a new and potent incentive to the
exercise of a forgiving temper.
A glance at the ideals of ethical worth in the early ages of Israel
is enough to show how sharply they contrast with the laws of
Christ and the type of character required and exemplified in the
New Testament. It was once said by an eminent divine that the
patriarchs, were they living now, would be in the penitentiary.
Polygamy and other practices, the rightfulness of which nobody
then disputed, the wrongfulness of which nobody then discerned,
are related of them, and related without any expression of disap
proval. Whoever has not learned that practical morality, the
ramifications of a righteous principle in conduct, is a gradual
growth, and that even now, after the generic principles of duty
have been set forth in the Gospel, and a luminous example of the
spirit in which one should live has been afforded in the life of
Jesus, the perception of the demands of morality advances from
stage to stage of progress, is incompetent to take the seat of
judgment upon men of remote ages. A while ago a letter of Wash
ington was published, in which directions are given for the trans
portation to the West Indies and sale there of a refractory negro
who had given him trouble. The act was not at variance with the
best morality of the time. The letter is one that deserves to cast
no shade on the spotless reputation of its author. Yet a like act,
if done to-day, would excite almost universal reprobation. To
revile the worthies of Old Testament times as if they lacked the
vital principle of unselfish loyalty to God and to right, as they un
derstood it, is not less irrational than to deride the habitations
which they constructed, or the farming-tools which they used to
till the ground. It is not the less imperatively required of us,
however, to recognize the wide interval that separates the ancient
conceptions of morality from those of the Gospel. Jael, the wife
of Heber the Kenite, entered heart and soul into the cause of
Israel in the mortal struggle with the Canaanites. In lending aid
to the cause which she espoused she did an act of atrocious cru
elty and treachery. She enticed Sisera into her tent, and when he
was sleeping, drove a tent-pin through his head. Yet for her deed
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 363
she is lauded in the song of Deborah the prophetess (Judges v.),
" Blessed above women shall Jael be, the wife of Heber the
Kenite ! " Almost the same words were addressed to the Virgin
Mary (Luke i. 42), " Blessed art thou among women ! " What an
infinite contrast between the two women to whom this lofty dis
tinction is awarded ! Nothing is better fitted to force on us the
perception of the gradualness and the continuity of the unfolding
of morality in the scriptures.
We meet in the Psalms with imprecations which are not conso
nant with the spirit of the Gospel ; they belong on a lower plane
of ethical feeling. It is one thing to experience a satisfaction in
the just punishment of crime. It is accordant with Christianity
to regard with conscientious abhorrence iniquity, whether we our
selves or other men are the sufferers by it. Indifference to base
conduct, be the root of this state of mind a dulness of the moral
sense or false sentiment, is, to say the least, not less repulsive, and
may be more demoralizing, than the fires of resentment which
nothing but fierce retaliation can quench. But the spirit of re
venge is unchristian. Christianity teaches us to distinguish be
tween the offence and the offender : the one we are to hate ; the
other we are forbidden to hate. Moreover, Christianity never
loses sight of the possibility of reformation in the case of wrong
doers. The Christian considers what an individual might be, not
merely what he now is. The benevolent feeling, therefore, is not
allowed to be paralyzed by the moral hatred which evil conduct
naturally and properly evokes. As regards personal resentment,
the Christian disciple is cautioned never to forget his own ill-desert
and need of pardon from God, and the great boon of forgiveness,
in the reception of which the Christian life begins. These quali
fications and correctives of passion were comparatively wanting in
the earlier dispensation.
Many expressions of wrath in the Old Testament are directed
against the enemies of God and of his kingdom, by whom Israel
was attacked or threatened. They are outbursts of a righteous
indignation, and as such merit respect, even though an alloy of
personal vindictiveness may unhappily mingle in them. It was no
fault to be incensed against impious and cruel assailants of all that
was precious to a patriot and to a reverent worshipper of Jehovah.
It is impossible, however, to refer all the imprecations in the
Psalms to a feeling of the authors in relation to such enemies of
364 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
God and of his kingdom. No devices of interpretation can har
monize with the precepts of Christ such expressions as are found
in the icpth Psalm : " Let his children be fatherless, and his wife
a widow. Let his children be vagabonds, and beg. . . . Let the
extortioner catch all that he hath. . . . Let there be none to
extend mercy unto him : neither let there be any to have pity on
his fatherless children." The wrath of the author of this lyric
against the cruel and insolent one who " persecuted the poor and
needy man, and the broken in heart, to slay them," it is fair to
assume was merited. The sense of justice and the holy anger at
the root of these anathemas are in themselves right. They are
the result of a divine education. But they take the form of re
venge, — a kind of wild justice, as Lord Bacon calls it. The
identification of the family with its head is one of " the ruling
ideas " of antiquity. It appears often in the methods of retribu
tion which were in vogue in the Old Testament ages. It gave
way partly and by degrees, under that progressive enlightenment
from above through which individual responsibility became more
distinctly felt and acknowledged, both in judicial proceedings and
in private life. The distinctive spirit of the Gospel is shown in
the rebuke of Jesus when the disciples proposed to call down fire
from heaven to destroy the inimical Samaritans (Luke ix. 55). It
is most impressively seen in his prayer on the cross, " Father, for
give them ; for they know not what they do " (Luke xxiii. 34).
It is the characteristic of Old Testament laws and precepts
that in them bounds are set to evils, the attempt immediately to
extirpate which would have proved abortive. Something more
than this must be said. There was lacking a full perception of
the moral ideal. In the Old Testament expositions of duty, as we
have already seen, there is an approach toward that radical treat
ment of moral evils which signalizes the Christian system. An
additional example of this feature of the preparatory stage of reve
lation may be found in the last chapter of the book of Proverbs.
There " Lemuel," the name of a king, or a name applied to one
of the kings, is apostrophized. He is exhorted to practise chastity
and temperance. " It is not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for
kings to drink wine ; nor for princes strong drink : lest they drink,
and forget the law, and pervert the judgment of any of the
afflicted." What better counsel could be given ? The judge on
the bench must have a clear head. But the counsellor, in order
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 365
to strengthen his admonition, proceeds to say, " Give strong
drink unto him that is ready to perish." So far, also, there is no
exception to be taken to the wisdom of his precept. The Jews
had a custom, resting on a humane motive, to administer a sus
taining stimulant or a narcotic to those undergoing punishment, in
order to alleviate their pains. Something of this kind was offered
to Jesus on the cross. But the counsellor does not stop at this
point. He says : " Give strong drink unto him that is ready to
perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him
drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more."
There need be no hesitancy in saying that this last exhortation is
about the worst advice that could possibly be given to a person in
affliction, or dispirited by the loss of property. The thing to tell
him, especially if he has an appetite for strong drink, is to avoid it
as he would shun poison. Yet our remark amounts to nothing
more than this, that the sacred author sets up a barrier against
only a part of the mischief which is wrought by intemperance.
His vision went thus far, but no farther. It is a case where, to
quote a homely modern proverb, " Half a loaf is better than no
bread." It would be a great gain for morality and for the well-
being of society if magistrates could be made abstinent.
On this general subject there is no more explicit criticism of
Old Testament law than is contained in the words of Jesus re
specting divorce. The law of Moses permitted a husband to
discard his wife, but curtailed his privilege by requiring him to
furnish her with a written statement which might serve as a means
of protection for her. This statute, as far as the allowance to the
man which was included in it is concerned, is declared by Christ
to have been framed on account of " the hardness of heart " of
the people. It fell below the requirement of immutable morality.
It was a partial toleration of an abuse which it was then imprac
ticable to seek to cut off altogether. But Christianity lifted the
whole subject to a higher level. It presented a profounder view
of the marriage relation. It superseded and annulled the Mosaic
enactment.
The advance of the New Testament revelation in its relation
to the Old has become, in these days, obvious. But the New
Testament revelation, in itself considered, was not made in an
instant as by a lightning flash. It did not come into being in all
its fulness in a moment, as the fabled Minerva sprang from the
366 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
head of Jove. As in the case of the earlier revelation, the note
of gradualness is attached to it. The fundamental fact of Chris
tianity is the uniting of God to man in the person of Jesus Christ.
Peter's confession respecting his person is the rock on which the
Church was founded. The Epistle to the Hebrews opens with
the following striking passage (as given in the Revised Version) :
" God, having of old time spoken unto the fathers in the prophets
by divers portions and in divers manners, hath at the end of these
days spoken unto us in his Son." The former revelations were
made through various channels, and were besides of a fragmentary
character. They paved the way for the final revelation through the
Son, whom the writer proceeds to liken, in his relation to God, to the
effulgence of a luminous body. But modern exegesis and modern
theological thought, while leaving untouched the divinity of Jesus,
have brought into clear light that progressive development of the
Saviour's person from the incarnation at the starting-point. Not
until his earthly career terminated and he was " glorified " was
the union of God and man in his person, in its effects, consum
mated. More was involved in his being in the " form of a ser
vant " than theology in former days conceived. Nothing is more
clear from his own language respecting himself, as well as from
what the apostles say of him, than that there were limitations of
his knowledge. On a certain day Jesus started from Bethany
for Jerusalem. He was hungry. Seeing at a distance a fig-tree
with leaves upon it, he went toward it, expecting to find fruit, —
it being a tree of that kind which produces its fruit before putting
out the leaves. But when he came to it his expectation was
deceived ; " he found nothing but leaves." Jesus said that he
did not know when the day of judgment would come. Apart
from conclusive testimonies of this character, it is evident from
the whole tenor of the Gospel histories that he was not conscious
of the power to exercise divine attributes in their fulness of activity.
The opposite idea gives a mechanical character to his actions and
to most of his teachings. How, if he was all the while in the ex
ercise of omniscience, could he " marvel " at the unbelief of certain
of his hearers ? That when he was a speechless babe in his mother's
arms he was consciously possessed of infinite knowledge, is an
impossible conception. And the difficulties of such a conception
are only lessened in degree at any other subsequent day while he
was " in the flesh." When we behold him at the last, prior to
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 367
the crucifixion, we find his soul poured out in the agonizing sup
plication, " If it be possible, let this cup pass from me." The
supposition of a dual personality in Christ is not less contrary to
the scriptures and to the creed of the Church than it is offensive
to common sense and to philosophy. Yet he was conscious of
a unity with God altogether exceptional, and the unfolding within
him of this unassailable conviction kept pace with the develop
ment of his human consciousness. The dawning sense of the
unique relation in which he stood to God comes out in his boy
hood, in the words addressed to his mother when he was found
with the doctors in the temple, " Wist ye not that I must be in
my Father's house?" And the limitations of Jesus must not be
exaggerated or made the premise of unwarranted inferences. He
knew the boundaries of his province as a teacher, and never over
stepped them. Just as he refused to be an arbiter in a contest
about an inheritance, saying, " Who made me a judge or a divider
over you?" so did he abstain from authoritative utterances on
matters falling distinctly within the sphere of human science.
No honor is done to him, and no help afforded to the cause of
Christianity, in attributing to him scholastic information which he
did not claim for himself and which there is no evidence that
he possessed. It is not less important, however, to observe that,
notwithstanding the limits that were set about him by the fact of
his real humanity, and as long as he dwelt among men, there was
yet an inlet into his consciousness from the fountain of all truth.
" No one knoweth the Son, save the Father ; neither doth any
know the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son
willeth to reveal him" (Matt. xi. 27). His knowledge differed
in its source, in its kind and degree, from that of all other sons
of men. "The words that I say unto you I speak not from
myself: but the Father abiding in me doeth his works." The
divine in him was not a temporary visitation, as when the Spirit
dwelt for a brief time — sojourned, one may be permitted to say
— in the soul of a prophet like Isaiah. Even then God spoke
through the prophet, and the mind of the prophet might for the
moment became so fully the organ of God that he spoke through
the prophet's lips in the first person. But in Christ there was
an " abiding " of the Father. The union was such that the whole
mental and moral life of Jesus was an expression of God's mind
and will. " He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." As
368 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
conscience in me is the voice of another, yet is not distinct from
my own being, so of Christ is it true that the Father was in him,
— another, yet not another. And this union, although real from
the beginning, culminated in its effects not until a complete
ethical oneness was attained, at the end of all temptation and
suffering, — the oneness which found utterance in the words,
" Howbeit not what I will, but what thou wilt." This was the
transition-point to the perfect development of his being, which
is styled his "glorification." As the risen and ascended Christ,
he can be touched with sympathy with the human infirmities of
which he has had experience, at the same time that he can be
present with his disciples wherever they are, — can be in the
midst of the smallest group of them who are met for worship.
From Jesus himself we have a distinct assurance that the reve
lation which he was to make was not to end with his oral teach
ing. Near the end of his life he said to the disciples, " I have
yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now."
They were not ripe for the comprehension of important truth,
which therefore he held in reserve. The Holy Spirit was to open
their eyes to the perception of things which they were not yet
qualified to appreciate. The communication of the Spirit ushered
in a new epoch. Then the apostles took a wider and deeper view
of the purport of the Gospel. We find in the Epistles an unfold
ing of doctrine which we discover in the germ in the conversa
tions and discourses of Jesus. It was impossible, for example, that
the design of his death could be adequately discerned prior to the
event itself, and as long as the disciples could not be reconciled
even to the expectation of it. In isolated sayings of Jesus, in par
ticular in what he said at the institution of the Lord's Supper, the
import of it is taught. The giving of his life, he said figuratively
on another occasion, was to avail in some way, as a ransom. But
it was not until the cross had been raised that the doctrine of the
cross was made an essential part of Christian teaching, and the
great sacrifice became a theme of doctrinal exposition. By this
subsequent teaching a void which had been left in the instructions
of the Master was filled. In his teaching there were two elements,
standing, so to speak, apart from each other. On the one hand,
he set forth the inexorable demands of righteous law. In this
respect no portion of the older scriptures, in which law was so
prominent a theme, is equally adapted to strike the conscience
THE GRADUALNESS OF REVELATION 369
with dismay. On the other hand, there was in the teaching of
Jesus the most emphatic proclamation of God's compassion and
forgiving love. These two sides of the Saviour's teaching are
connected and harmonized in the apostolic exposition of the
atonement.
The apostles themselves, individually, as regards their percep
tions of truth, their insight into the meaning of the Gospel and its
bearings on human duty and destiny, did not remain stationary.
How they attained to a more catholic view of the relation of the
Gentiles to the Gospel and to the Church, the New Testament
scriptures explain. Apart from this subject, where their progres
sive enlightenment is so conspicuous a fact, there can be no doubt
that from day to day they grew in knowledge. When the earliest
writings of Paul, the Epistles to the Thessalonians, are compared
with two of his latest writings, — the Epistles to the Colossians
and Ephesians, — we not only find perceptible modifications of
tone, but in the later compositions we find also views on the scope
of the Gzospel — what may be termed the universal, or cosmical,
relations of the work of redemption — such as do not appear in
his first productions. As a minor peculiarity, it may be mentioned
that when he wrote to the Thessalonians he seems to have ex
pected to be alive when the Lord should come in his Second
Advent ; while in his latest Epistles this hope or expectation has
passed out of his mind. As the Gospel and the First Epistle of
John are the latest of the apostolic writings, it is permissible to
regard them as the fullest and ripest statement of the theologic
import of the Gospel.
The ordinary Protestant doctrine respecting the seat of author
ity requires, in order to have a tenable basis, that the gradualness
of revelation be taken into account. The authority of the Bible
must be understood as applicable within the sphere of moral and
religious teaching. The biblical writers, with this very important
qualification, entertained the views current in their times on the
matters now included in the function of natural and physical
science. The historical writers were not addicted to antiquarian
researches. Their predominant motive as authors was moral and
religious. It was a great mistake formerly to predicate of them
the absolute accuracy in narrative which is prized and, in a meas
ure, exacted, in modern savans. The root of the Protestant prin
370 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
ciple on the seat of authority is faith in the supreme authority
of Jesus Christ as a moral and religious teacher. Such authority
over faith and conduct, if ascribed to the Bible, must be attributed
to the Bible as a whole, and not, in the strict sense, to its parts
individually considered. This is clear enough from the way in
which Jesus himself spoke of Old Testament precepts and other
teachings, and from a similar course on the part of the apostles.
The truth to which attention is now called is this : the amendment
in which we are justified by the Protestant maxims, so far as bibli
cal writings belonging to earlier stages of revelation are concerned,
is authorized by Christ in the New Testament. For example, when
we take exception to precepts uttered or approved by prophets con
cerning the way of regarding and treating enemies, we follow the
dictates of the Sermon on the Mount. We are still within the circle
of biblical instruction or command, or of the one example recog
nized as perfect. In short, it is the Bible as a whole, and con
sidered as a self-interpreting — we might say, self-amending —
authority, that we are either bound to obey, or are safe in follow
ing.1 History is an instructive witness to the mischief that has
been wrought from an oversight of this principle ; for example,
from regarding the Mosaic system as the model of a Christian
commonwealth.
1 This truth is well stated by Rothe, in his Zur Dogtnatik.
CHAPTER XV
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS
CHRISTIANITY is one of many religions which exist or have existed
in the world. They may be divided into three classes, — the reli
gions of barbarian tribes, past and present ; the national religions,
which have sprung up within a single nation or race, and have not
striven for a farther extension ; and the universal religions, which,
not content to stay within national boundaries, have aspired to a
general or universal sway. To this last class, Buddhism and Chris
tianity unquestionably belong. The religion of the Israelites, before
it assumed the Christian form, had spread extensively among men
of foreign birth ; and its adherents were zealous in making prose
lytes. Yet converts were partly or fully transformed into Jews,
and incorporated with the race of Israel. Mohammedanism was
at first the religion of one people, and at the outset it may not
have been the design of its founder to extend it beyond the
national limits. But the design was widened : it became a con
quering faith, and has, in fact, included within its pale numerous
votaries of different nations and tongues.
The study of pagan and ethnic religions has been carried for
ward, in later times, in a more sympathetic spirit. Elements of
truth and beauty have been carefully sought out in the beliefs and
worship of heathen nations. Religious ideas and moral precepts
which deserve respect have been pointed out in the ethnic creeds.
The aspirations at the root of the religions outside of the pale of
Christianity, the struggle of the soul to connect itself with the
supernatural, and to realize ideals of an excellence above any
present attainment, have been justly appreciated. This aspect of
heathenism, it should be observed, however, is recognized in the
New Testament. The apostle Paul builds his discourse at Athens
on the acknowledged ignorance of the Divinity, for whom there
was, nevertheless, a search and a virtually confessed yearning. He
cites the teaching of certain heathen poets as consonant with the
truth on the great point of man's filial relation to the Deity. The
371
3/2 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Christian Fathers traced wise and holy sayings of heathen sages to
rays of light from the Logos, — the Divine Word, — or to an illu
mination from the Spirit of God. Devout missionaries, in recent
days, have been impressed with the conviction that individuals, of
whom Confucius was one, have been providentially raised up to
be the guides of their people, to instil into them higher truth, and
to prepare them for better things. Points of affinity and of
accordance between the Bible and the sacred scriptures of peoples
ignorant of Christianity have not been overlooked by Christian
scholars. Even the fables of mythology may betray glimpses of
truth not capable of being grasped on the plane of nature. They
may disclose a craving which Christianity alone avails to appease,
and may thus be unconscious prophecies of Him who is the desire
of all nations. Even the Avatars of Vishnu, countless in number,
indicate that through man the full revelation of God is looked for.
They may be considered a presage, in a crude form, of the his
toric fact of the Incarnation.
Christianity differs from the other religions in its contents, and
in the verifiable sanction which furnishes the ground for an assured
belief. This last feature is of itself a distinguishing merit. If
much that is taught by Christ and the apostles should be found
here and there in the literature of the world, the supernatural
sanction which changes hope into assurance, and doubting belief
into conviction, would be of itself an inestimable advantage. In
this place it is the contents of Christianity which we have to con
sider in comparison with the tenets of other creeds.
When we say of Christianity that it is the absolute religion, it is
not meant that we have in it a full-orbed discovery of divine things.
" We know in part " (i Cor. xiii. 9). It is meant that Christianity
is not to be classified with other religions as if it were defective in
the sense of containing error, or as if it stood in need of a comple
ment to be expected or required on the present stage of human
life. With no limit to its increasing capacity to illuminate right
action, it is now in substance and in its principles incapable of
amendment.
It is well, at the outset, to give prominence to the grand
peculiarity of the Christian religion, which constitutes the central
point of difference between it and the ethnic religions. Revelation
is the revelation — the self-revelation — of GOD. The doctrine of
God is the sun which irradiates the whole system, and keeps
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS 373
every part in its place. There may be excellent moral suggestions
in the non-Christian systems and cults. There may be partial,
momentary glimpses of the Divine Being himself in certain aspects
of his character. But nowhere, save in the religion of the Bible,
and in systems borrowed from it, is there a full view of the per
fections of God, — such a view as gives to moral precepts their
-proper setting and the most effectual motive to their observance.
This essential characteristic of Christianity the apostle Paul held
up to view in his discourse at Athens. There was worship — in
its way, genuine worship — among the heathen, but an ignorance
of its true object. It was so far an agnosticism as to leave a void
in the soul of the worshipper. In a few striking sentences the apos
tle, justifying his title of the "Apostle to the Gentiles," presented
to view the only living God, a Spirit, the Creator and Ruler of the
universe, in whom we live, and to whom we are responsible. The
whole conception of man, of his duties and destiny, and of the goal
to which all things tend, is colored and determined by the primary
ideas relative to God. What, let us now inquire, have other re
ligions to say of him? Heathen religions generally fail altogether
to disengage God from nature. Hence polytheism is the pre
vailing fact. Whether the various religions preserve in them
traces of an earlier monotheism is a disputed point ; scholars are
not agreed on the question ; and a bias, on one side or on the
other, frequently appears in the recent discussions upon it. As
the existing diversity of languages is entirely consistent with the
hypothesis of an original unity of speech, although the phenomena
do not positively establish this doctrine, so it may be possibly
respecting religion. Vestiges of a primitive simple theism may
have utterly disappeared, yet such may have been the religion of
the primitive man. Certain it is that, as we contemplate the
religions which history and ancient literature exhibit to us, we
find them at a distant remove from a pure and spiritual appre
hension of the Deity. Where there was a supreme God, other
divinities divided power with him ; and none of them were con
ceived of as absolute, as independent of nature. Tien, or
Shang-ti, the supreme God of the Chinese, was Heaven conceived
of as Lord or sovereign Emperor. Dr. Legge, the learned trans
lator of Confucius, holds that "Tien" signifies the Lord of the
Heavens. He finds in the conception an early monotheism.
This was not the understanding of the Roman Catholic mission-
374 TIIE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
arics in the last century, nor is it the interpretation of the most
competent missionaries at present. The testimony of Chinese
authors, says Dr. Hopper, "is uniform and the same. Every
where it is the visible heaven which is referred to." " They refer
to an intelligent soul animating the visible heaven, as the soul
animates the body of a man." The religion of the Bactrian
prophet Zoroaster was a dualism. An eternal principle of evil, a
god of darkness, the source of everything baleful and hateful, con
tends against the rival deity, and is never overcome. Max Miiller
has designated the religion of the Sanskrit-speaking Indians, the
system of the Vedas, as henotheism, by which he means the wor
ship of numerous divinities, each of which, however, in the act of
worship, is clothed with such attributes as imply that the other
divinities are for the moment forgotten, and which might logically
abolish them. This is really polytheism with a peculiar monistic
drift. "But Professor VV. D. Whitney, than whom there is no higher
authority on the subject, dissents from this theory, and attributes
the exalted attributes attached to the particular god at the moment
of worship mainly to a natural exaggeration. Professor Whitney
declares that " there is no known form of religious faith which
presents a polytheism more pure and more absolute than the Vedic
religion." l Whether monotheism entered into the ancient religion
of Egypt is an unsettled debate. It is maintained by Renouf that
the Egyptian monuments and literature exhibit a mingling of
monotheism and polytheism ; that there was a conception of one
God with sublime attributes — an idea connected, however, with
the notion of a plurality of divinities and with debased super
stitions. The sublime conception, Renouf contends, was the most
ancient. Mr. G. Rawlinson takes the same position, holding that
there was a purer, esoteric faith, the religion of the educated class,
alongside of the polytheism and idolatry in which the multitude
were sunk.2 On the contrary, Lepsius thinks that the Egyptian
religion took its start in sun-worship. Other Egyptologists would
make sun-worship intermediate between an earlier monotheism
and polytheism. The religion of the Greeks, as all know, was
a polytheism in which there is a struggle toward unity in the lofty
image of Zeus, as the father of gods and men, and as the fountain
of law and right, which is found in the writings of Sophocles and
1 Revue <te VIHstoire des Religions, torn. vi. (1882), No. 5, p. 143.
2 The Religions of the Ancient World, p. 29.
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS 3/5
of his contemporaries. Turning to a much later religion, — the
religion of Mohammed, — we find passages in the Koran which
imply not only a genuine faith in the Supreme Being, but also the
ascription to him of certain exalted moral attributes. " Your God
is one God : there is no God but he, the merciful, the compassion
ate." l Paradise is " for those who expend in alms in prosperity
and adversity, for those who repress their rage, and those who
pardon men. God loves the kind. Those who, when they do a
crime, or wrong themselves, remember God and ask forgiveness
of their sins, — and who forgives sins save God? — and do not
persevere in what they did, the while they know, these have their
reward, — pardon from their Lord," etc.2
Passages like these, taken by themselves, would give a higher
idea of Mohammed's system than a wider view warrants. Those
other representations must be taken into account, in which the
holiness of God is obscured, the prophet's fierce resentment is
ascribed to the Lord, and a sensual paradise promised to the
faithful. "And when ye meet those who misbelieve — then strike
off heads until ye have massacred them, and bind fast the
bonds. . . . Those who are slain in God's cause. ... He will
make them enter into paradise."3 But the higher elements in
the religion of Mohammed, strongly as they seized upon his faith,
did not begin with him. Kuenen argues that he knew little of
Abraham, and that the identification of his creed with that
ascribed to the patriarch, which is found in the Koran, was an
afterthought.4 However imperfect his knowledge of Abraham's
history was, the name of the patriarch was familiar to him. It is
of more consequence to remember that his main tenet was the
familiar belief of the Jews, which a circle of Arab devotees
probably still cherished. The religion of Mohammed was a
fanatical crusade against polytheism and idolatry, first among the
Arabs, and then in the degenerate Christianity of the Eastern
Church. The ultimate source of all that is good in Mohammed's
movement is the scriptures of the Old and New Testament, which
he did not refuse to acknowledge, little as he really knew of
their contents, and far as he was from comprehending the
1 The Koran, Professor Palmer's translation, ch. ii. [150], (vol. i. p. 22).
2 I/iid., c. iii. [125], [130], vol. i. p. 63.
3 Ibid., c. xlvii. [5], (vol. ii. p. 229).
4 Kuenen, National Religions and Universal Religions, p. 12, sec. 4.
376 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
prophetic or Messianic element of the Old Testament religion, or
its fulfilment in the Gospel. Mohammedanism has one grand idea
of the Old Testament, the idea of God, but with the attribute of
holiness largely subtracted, and divested of the principle of prog
ress^ which issued, in the case of the religion of Israel, in the
kingdom of Christ, the universal religion of Jesus.
History indicates that polytheism, whatever be its origin, tends,
in the case of nations that advance in intelligence, to some species
of monotheism. Professor Whitney finds " unmistakable indica
tions of the beginnings of a tendency to unity in the later Vedic
hymns."1 The Graeco- Roman religion had resolved itself, in the
minds of Plutarch and many of his contemporaries, into a belief
in one Supreme Being, with a host of subordinate divinities. In
the second century of the Christian era, under the influence of
philosophy, God was conceived of as one Being ; and the minor
deities were thought of, either as representing the variety of his
functions, or as instruments of his providence. This was the
mode of thinking in cultivated classes. The belief and rites of
the common people remained unaltered. But here a most im
portant fact must be brought to the attention of the reader. We
find that the tendencies to unification, although they may beget a
sort of monotheism which lingers for a time, commonly issue in
Pantheism. They do not stop at monotheism as a finality.
Nature still holds the spirit in its fetters. If it is not a multitude
of deities, more or less involved in natural forces and functions, it
is nature as a whole, figured as an impersonal agency, into which
deity is merged. It was so in the ancient classical nations. The
esoteric philosophy and theology did not continue deistic ; it lapsed
into Pantheism.
The religions of India are a notable illustration of this apparent
helplessness of the spirit to rise above nature, above the realm of
things finite, to the absolute and personal Being, from whom are
all things. One of the most learned and trustworthy of the
expositors of the religions of India says, "India is radically
pantheistic, and that from its cradle onwards." • When we
1 Revue de VHistoire des Religions, torn. vi. (1882), No. 5, p. 143.
2 Earth, 7'he Religions of India, p. 8. Earth's work still retains its value,
although not a recent publication. Among recent works, two volumes by
Professor Edward Hopkins are especially characterized by accurate learning
and by fairness: The Religions of India (1895); India Old and ATew
(1901): ("Yale's Eicentennial Publications").
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS 377
examine the Brahmanical religion as it was developed on the
banks of the Ganges, we find a thoroughly pantheistic system.
Emanation is the method by which finite things originate. Brahma
is the impersonal essence or life of all things : from Brahma, gods,
men, the earth, and all things else, proceed. This alienation from
Brahma is evil. The finite soul can find no peace, save in the
return to Brahma, — the extinction of personal consciousness.
The laws of Manu close with the sentiment, " He who in his own
soul perceives the Supreme Soul in all beings, and acquires
equanimity toward all, attains the highest state of bliss." The
Stoics, and Spinoza, and occasional sayings of Emerson are
anticipated in this Hindoo sentence. All the horrors of transmi
gration, and all the torments of Brahmanical asceticism, have a
genetic relation to this fundamental pantheistic tenet.
Buddhism is the religion which at present is most lauded by
those who would put Christianity on a level with the heathen creeds.
We may pass by the perplexing inquiry as to how much the life of
its founder is history, and how much in the narrative is myth. That
Buddha was an earnest man, deeply struck with a sense of the misery
of the world, and anxious to do good, may be safely concluded.
He looked upon the multitude with heart-felt compassion.
The sages hoped for eventual happiness only through painful and
life-long asceticism. The common people were enslaved to unin
telligible ceremonies, and held down under the tyranny of the
caste-system. That he made large sacrifices of worldly good in
pursuit of his benevolent purpose is equally certain. That the
moral precepts which he enjoined, and the moral spirit which he
recommended and practised, are marked by a purity and benevo
lence scarcely to be found in the same degree elsewhere, outside
of the pale of Christianity, is evident. Yet nothing can be better
adapted to impress one with the immeasurable superiority of
Christianity to non- Christian systems in their best forms than a
close attention to the Buddhistic system.
What now according to Buddha, or Qakyamuni, is the cause,
and what the cure, of the ills of life? His theory is embodied
in the four principles: (i) Existence is always attended with
misery; to exist is to suffer; (2) The cause of pain is desire,
which increases with its gratification ; (3) Hence the cessation or
suppression of desire is necessary; (4) There are four stages in
the way to this result, — four things are requisite. These are, first,
378 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
an awakening to the consciousness that to exist is to be miserable,
and to the perception that misery is the fruit of desire or passion;
secondly, the escape, through this knowledge, from impure and
revengeful feelings; thirdly, the getting rid successively of all
evil desires, then of ignorance, then of doubt, then of heresy, then
of unkindliness and vexation. When the believer has reached
the fourth stage, he is ready for Nirvana. What is Nirvana?
What is the blessed goal where all self-discipline reaches its
reward? It is the extinction of personal being. It is annihila
tion. That this is the doctrine of Buddha, scholars generally hold.1
The same scholars who declare this to be the outcome of the
latest and most thorough investigations also find that Nirvana was
held to be attainable in this life ; 2 that is, this term was applied by
early Buddhist teachers to the serenity which is reached by the
saint here. But this does not imply that there is a continuance of
individual being beyond death.3 Buddha himself steadily refused
to give an answer to the question. The most competent scholars
rightly conclude that he did not believe in an existence after
death. So far as Nirvana is the extinction of those evil passions
and the deliverance from that grievance which deprives us of
peace, it is even attainable in this life. But the sole blessing that
comes with death is the full and final parting with the weariness
of existence.4 It is sometimes thought that transmigration is
inconsistent with the denial that the soul is a substantial entity.
But the pantheistic theory as seen in the Brahmanical system,
while it subtracts personality from the soul, may hold that the
finite being which we call "the soul " may be embodied not once
only, but an indefinite number of times. Yet to exist as distinct
from the Absolute, or as self-conscious, is the evil of evils. But
while some have thought that Buddha himself may possibly have
held to the "vaguely apprehended and feebly postulated ego"
passing from one existence to another, — a doctrine found in the
1 SeeT. W. Rhys Davids's article, " Buddhism," Encycl. Brit., vol. iv. p. 434;
Barth, p. no; Tide's Outlines of the History of Religion, etc., p. 35; Koep-
pen, Die Religion d. Budd/ia, \. 306; Edkins, Chinese Buddhism, p. 45.
2 Rhys Davids's Lectures on Origin and Growth of Religion, etc., pp. 100, 253.
* Ibid., p. 10 1.
4 Hopkins, The Religions of India, p. 321. "Orthodox teaching in the
ancient order of Buddhists inculcated expressly on its converts to forgo the
knowledge of the being or non-being of the peifected saint." — Oldenburg,
Biiddha, His Life, His Doctrine, His Order, p. 276.
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS 3/9
Sanskrit books of the North,1 — without question, the accepted
doctrine of the sect was, that the Buddhist, strictly speaking, does
not revive, but another in his place, — the " Karma," which is the
reunion of the constituent qualities that made up his being. " Such
is the doctrine of the entire orthodox literature of Southern
Buddhism."2 "Buddhism does not acknowledge the existence of
a soul as a thing distinct from the parts and powers of man which
are dissolved at death ; and the Nirvana of Buddhism is simply
extinction."3 " Buddha believed neither in God nor soul, but he
believed, and every form of his church believed, in the transmigra
tion of character, as an entity, with a new body, a theory which has
nothing to do with heredity, with which it has been compared."4
The Buddhist aspires to Nirvana, to the end that he may avert
the pains of transmigration from another, his heir or successor.
Dr. Fairbairn, in a just appreciation of the excellences of Buddha's
teaching, styles him "a transcendent theist."5 He points out that
" nothing could be farther than the soul or system of the Buddha
from what we mean by Pantheism." It is explained that his denial
of Brahmanisms and his altruistic ethics are in their spirit theistic.5
And it is explained further that " Buddha's theory was pessimistic,
for it conceived being as sorrow, and the discipline he enforced
was a method for the cessation of personal existence." 7 Buddhism
may be described as the apotheosis of the ethical personality —
the deification was none the less complete that the religion knew
no God, though it was a result that at once paralyzed the intellect
and quickened and satisfied the heart.5
It is in this method of self-discipline, and in the tempers of
heart which are inculcated, that the exceptionally attractive points
of Buddhism are comprised. Chastity, temperance, patience, and,
crowning all, universal charity are to be earnestly cultivated as the
indispensable means of redemption from the dread of transmigra
tion and from the pains of existence. His personal traits were the
most potent cause of the spread of his influence.
It is obvious what are the merits of Buddhism and their limits.
1 Earth, pp. 112, 113.
2Burnouf, Introd., p. 507 (Earth, p. 112).
3 Rhys Davids, Encycl. Brit., vol. iv. p. 434, where the proofs are given.
4 Hopkins, India Old and New, p. 138.
5 Philosophy of fh e Christian Religion, p. 243.
7 Ibid., p. 121.
380 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
Buddha was no avowed antagonist of the traditional Brahminical
religion. He set on foot no crusade against caste. Warfare against
Brahmanism and caste arose later. There is a common family
likeness between his doctrine and the contemporary speculations
of the philosophy of the Brahmans. In a tone lacking the justly
sympathetic spirit of Dr. Fairbairn, an eminent scholar has said :
"Atheism, scornful disregard of the cultus and tradition, the
conception of a religion entirely spiritual, a contempt for finite
existence, belief in transmigration, and the necessity of deliver
ance from it, the feeble idea of the personality of man," — these
are among the features found in Buddhism and the Upanishads.1
The monkish system, which became so popular after the death
of Buddha, was as blighting in its influence on intellectual develop
ment, and as adverse to the well-being of men, as anything in the
Brahmanical creed or rites. The first monasteries had for their
aim study and the cultivation of the spirit of which Buddha
was an example. Monasticism, as Kuenen has remarked, is an
excrescence in the Christian system. The " Son of man came
eating and drinking." " There could be no Buddhism without
' bhikshus ' — there is a Christianity without monks." " That which
in one case constitutes the very essence of the religion and cannot
be removed from it, even in thought, without annulling the system
itself, is in the other case . . . the natural but one-sided develop
ment of certain elements in the original movement, coupled with
gross neglect of others which have equal or still higher right to
assert themselves." 2
Buddha was the great apostle of Pessimism, since he sought to point
out a virtuous method of getting rid of existence. The Brahman
sought to save himself; Buddha sought, also, to save others. But
from what? From the ills of conscious existence. It remains a
literal truth that " Buddha believed neither in God nor soul." It is
literally a system without God and without hope, save the negative
hope of deliverance from personal life. He invited the victims of
sorrow and terror to imitate him with no promise of escape from
annihilation ! Contrast the invitation of Him who said, " Come unto
me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest " !
This rest was in fellowship with him, involving in it communion
with the heavenly Father, without whom not a sparrow falls, who
makes all things work together for good to them that love him, and
1 Earth, p. 115. 2 Kuenen, p. 306.
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS 381
opens the gates of heaven at last to the soul that has been trained
by earthly service for the higher service and unmingled blessedness
of the life to come.
In expressions in the New Testament on the burdens that attend
our life on earth there is a radical unlikeness to the pessimism of the
founder of Buddhism. The teleology of Buddha holds out no
prospect of a ripeness of character which leads to a perfection of
conscious blessedness, the life everlasting. Buddhism, vigorous at
its birth, "has been smitten with premature decrepitude. . . . Some
are at times fain to regard Buddhism as a spiritual emancipation, a
kind of Hindoo Reformation ; and there is no doubt that in certain
respects it was both." But it created an institution " far more
illiberal, and formidable to spiritual independence," than the caste
system. " Not only did all the vitality of the Church continue in a
clergy living apart from the world ; but among this clergy itself the
conquering zeal of the first centuries gradually died away under the
influence of Quietism and the discipline enforced. ... All bold
ness and true originality of thought disappeared in the end in the
bosom of this spirit-weakening organization." l The secret of its
decadence in India, its original home, was its own degeneracy. It
became at length " as much a skeleton as was the Brahmanism of
the sixth century. As the Brahmanic belief had decomposed into
spiritless rites, so Buddhism, changed into dialectic and idolatry
(for in lieu of a god the later church worshipped Buddha), had
lost now all hold upon the people. The love of man, the spirit of
Buddhism, was dead, and Buddhism crumbled into the dust." -
What is the real significance of Buddhism as an historical phe
nomenon? It is the most powerful testimony ever given to the
burden that rests on human nature. From its millions upon mill
ions of adherents there arises an unconscious call for the help
which their own system cannot provide. Buddhism, in its inmost
purport, is a part of the wail of humanity in its yearning for
redemption. It is an eloquent witness to the need of Revelation.
It is a comment on the text, " No man knoweth the Father but
the Son."
The parallelisms existing, or supposed to exist, between passages
in the Buddhistic and other Hindoo religious writings and passages
in the gospels have occasioned much discussion. These relate to
sayings and to historical circumstances. They are reviewed care-
1 Earth, p. 137. 2 Hopkins, The Religions of India, p. 342.
382 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
fully and with studious impartiality by Professor Hopkins.1 As
concerned with facts, the " parallels " are in Buddhism. These
are more than fifty in number. Of these, only five are of a date
to lend even plausibility to the idea of a borrowing on the
side of Christianity. One of the most noted of them is that per
taining to the miraculous conception. In the story of the miracu
lous birth of Buddha the early texts declare that his mother is not
a virgin. The notion of an indebtedness of Christianity to the
Buddhistic tale and child-cult is on other accounts void of prob
ability. In general, the evidence bears out the conclusion of
Professor Hopkins, " Where the parallels make borrowing seem
probable, as in the case of miracles and legends not found in
other religions, and striking enough to suggest a loan, the historical
evidence is strongly in favor of Christianity having been not the
copyist but the originator." 2 So far as sayings are concerned, the
supposed parallels belong to Krishnaism, the type of religion of
which Krishna, a local leader, imagined to be an incarnation of
Vishnu, was the originator. The literature here is later than the
time of Buddha. In Krishnaism the imagined loan to the gospels,
as regards the Synoptics, is evidently destitute of substantial proof.
The same conclusion is justified upon due examination in the case
of John. This Gospel was of a character " that made it peculiarly
suitable to influence the Hindoo divines, who transferred from it
such phrases and sentiments as best fitted in with the conception
of Krishna as a god of love." 3 Christian teaching in the first
centuries had various avenues of access and of influence on the
thought of India and its religious guides. Professor Hopkins,
while anxious to avoid any statement not well attested, says, " I
must confess that the ingrowth of Christian ideas may have been
deeper than we can state with certainty, and that, for example,
the little band of early Christians in South India may have been
instrumental in fashioning the lofty ideals of some of the noble
religions which we know existed in after time and the influence
of which in their turn may still be potent among the sects of
to-day." 4
Christianity received from its parent, the religion of Israel, the
truth of a living, personal God — a God not merged in nature,
1 The elaborate discussion bearing the title " Christ in India," in India Old
and New, covers pp. 120-168.
-India Old and New, p. 143. 3 Ibid., p. 158. 4 Ibid., p. 168.
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS 383
but the Author of nature. The personality of God gives to man
his true place. Man is a person ; and religion, instead of being
a mystic absorption of the individual, is the communion of person
with person. Immortality is personal. The guaranty and evidence
of it is in the relation of man to God, and in the exalted position
which is thereby conferred on man. This guaranty becomes a
joyous assurance, when the believer is conscious of being spiritually
united to Jesus Christ, and a partaker of his life. The great idea
of the kingdom of God is the object of aspiration and of effort —
the goal of history. The life that now is, instead of being branded
as a curse, is made a theatre for the realization of a divine purpose,
and the school for a state of being for which, when rightly used,
it is the natural precursor.
Through such characteristics as these, Christianity is fitted to
be the religion of mankind. None of the systems which have
aspired to this distinction has the remotest hope of attaining it.
None of these systems contains a single element of value, which
is not found in its own place in the Christian system. On the
contrary, there is nothing in Christianity which forms any perma
nent barrier to its acceptance by any race or nation. No other
religion has in an equal degree proved its adaptedness to be the
religion of the world. It addresses itself, not to a single people,
nor to any branch of the human race exclusively or specially, but
to mankind. The apostles were directed to carry it " to every
creature." The idea of the brotherhood of the race becomes in
Christianity a realized fact. Appealing to a common religious
nature, a common consciousness of sin and of the need of help, a
common sense of the burden of sorrow and mortality, and offering
a remedy which is equally adapted to all, Christianity shows itself
possessed of the attributes of a universal religion. Being, on the
practical side, a religion of principles, and not of rules, it enters
into every form of human society and every variety of individual
character, with a renovating and moulding agency.
How shall the rise of such a religion be accounted for? We are
pointed back to Hebrew monotheism. But here we meet with a
phenomenon altogether unique, both in its origin and in its effects.
That the doctrine of Moses was not derived from the religion of
Egypt, scholars of every type of theological belief unite in affirm
ing. The question whence Moses derived his idea of God, says
Wellhausen, "could not possibly be worse answered than by a
384 TIIE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
reference to his relations with the priestly caste of Egypt and their
wisdom. It is not to be believed that an Egyptian deity could
inspire the Hebrews of Goshen with courage for the struggle
against the Egyptians, or that an abstraction of esoteric specula
tion could become the national deity of Israel." 1 " Amongst stu
dents of Israelite religion," says Kuenen, "there is not, as far as
I know, a single one who derives Yahvism " — the worship of
Jehovah — "from Egypt, either in the strange manner hit upon
by Comte, or in any other."- "It may be confidently asserted,"
says Renouf, " that neither Hebrews nor Greeks borrowed any of
their ideas from Egypt." 3 The Decalogue commands the exclu
sive worship of Jehovah. The spirituality of the conception is
carried out in the prohibition of all images and representations of
him. The substratum of the "Ten Words" is ascribed to Moses
by Ewald and many other critics. The additional prohibition is
considered by many to be of a later date. Dillmann is of the con
trary opinion : " In the post-Mosaic period," he says, " at least
in the central sanctuary of the whole people, and in the temple of
Solomon, the unrepresentable character of Jehovah through any
image was a recognized principle. The worship of an image on
Sinai (Exod. xxxii.), in the time of the judges, in the kingdom of
the ten tribes, does not prove that a prohibition of image-worship
was not known, but only that is was very hard in the mass of the
people, especially of the northern tribes, which were more under
Canaanite influences, to bring this law to a recognition ; and for
centuries, in fact, it was a subject of strife between a stricter and
a laxer party, since the latter only forbade an image of a false god,
the former forbade every image of Jehovah likewise." 4 The
prophets Amos and Hosea do not insist on the exclusion of
images as if this prohibition were anything new. We need not
inquire whether the non-existence of other deities was expressly
asserted in the Mosaic teaching or not.5 Since Moses did not
derive the idea of God from the Egyptian theology, both the
historical records and the probabilities of the case testify that
it was the God of the forefathers whose existence, and relations
1 EncycL Brit., art. " Israel," vol. xiii. p. 400.
2 National Religions and Universal Religions, p. 64.
3 The Religion of Ancient Egypt, p. 254.
4 Die Bilcher Exodus u. Leviticus, p. 209.
6 On this subject, see Oehler, ii. 155.
THE RELATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO OTHER RELIGIONS 385
to the people, were by him brought home afresh to their con
sciousness. The entire work of Moses as a founder admits of no
historical explanation, without the assumption of a higher religion
before, such as, according to Genesis, belonged to the fathers ; but
such a higher religion necessarily implies personal media, or rep
resentatives. " Advances in religion link themselves to eminent
personalities ; and the recollection of them is commonly kept up
in the people who come after who have been gathered into unity
as sharers, in common of their faith." Hence the narrative of the
faith of Abraham derives a strong historical corroboration from
the faith and work of Moses.1 Whatever difference may exist on
the question whether belief in the existence of other gods outside
of Israel, inferior to Jehovah, lingered among the people after the
age of Moses, all allow that, as early as the eighth century, the
conception of Jehovah as the only existing God was proclaimed
by the prophets in the clearest manner. How unique was this
monotheism ! Other nations somehow made room for the gods
of foreign peoples. They brought them into the Pantheon, or
they gave them homes within their own proper boundaries. Not
so with Israel. Jehovah was God, and there was no other. And
he was a holy God. In this grand particular, the conception was
distinguished from heathen ideas of divinity. How shall this idea
of Jehovah, so peculiar and so elevated, be accounted for? The
notion of a Semitic tendency to monotheism has a very slender
foundation, and would lead us to expect the religion of Jehovah
to arise in Babylon or Tyre as soon as among the people of Israel.
If we leave the question of the origin of Hebrew monotheism,
how shall it be explained that it did not sink down, when it had
once arisen, into Pantheism, as was the fact in other religions, —
for example, in the religion of the Hindoos, and in the philosophy
of the Greeks, which Lord Bacon calls " the pagan divinity " ?
How did this unique and extraordinary faith keep up its vitality,
age after age, in the presence of seductive types of heathenism,
and in the midst of political disintegration and ruin? How came
the light, when it had dawned, to go on increasing to the perfect
day, instead of fading out, as elsewhere, in the gloom of night?
Leaving these problems, too, unsolved, how was it that the
Hebrew monotheism held within itself the seeds of so great a
future? Assailants of the Old Testament religion never tire ot
1 See Dillmann, Die Genesis, pp. 228, 229.
2C
386 THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF
dwelling on the alleged narrowness of Jewish theology, and on the
selfish and unsocial character of their religious theory. It cannot
be denied that, in spite of the injunctions of the prophets, who
insisted that the election of Israel and its advantages were for a
service to be rendered, the consciousness of being a Chosen
People often engendered an arrogant and intolerant spirit toward
the nations less favored ; that is, the bulk of mankind. Yet what
was the actual outcome? It was the religion of universal love,
of the equality of men before God, of the fatherhood of God and
the brotherhood of the race. It was the religion of Jesus. " By
their fruits ye shall know them." The Old Testament was the one
book with which Jesus was familiar. In the teaching of the Old
Testament the apostles were steeped. The originality of Jesus
is not more marked, and his advance beyond all previous doctrine,
than is the organic relation of his instruction and work, of the
type of character which he exemplified and enjoined, to the Old
Testament ideas. The God whom we worship, if we believe in God,
is the God of the fathers of Israel, of Moses, of Samuel, of Isaiah,
and of David, of Paul, and of John, — even the Father of the Lord
Jesus Christ. There is no break in the unity of the religious con
sciousness from that far remote day when the progenitor of Israel
believed in God, and was lifted above the life of sense by his com
munion with the Invisible. With this religious consciousness, the
ethical development up to its consummation in the impartial jus
tice and unselfish love of man as man, which is the rule of Christ,
is inseparably connected. With it is connected the ever unfold
ing dictates and corollaries of this principle, by which wrongs and
miseries are more and more discerned and lessened.
How shall such a religion, founded on such a conception of
God, be accounted for? Who that believes in God can find it
incredible that it springs from his revelation of himself, — a self-
revelation, consummated in Christ? An examination of other
religions, instead of shaking the faith of a Christian, tends to
fortify it.
APPENDIX
NOTE i (p. 23)
WHEN the possession by man of a rational spirit, self-conscious and
with the power of self-motion, is recognized, the key is found to the
ultimate source of religion. On this question, one method of inquiry
is to inspect the cults and customs of savage and half-civilized races.
This appears strange in such as bring the history of religion under the
law of evolution. One would expect them to look for the essential
nature of religion, not in its rudimental forms, but rather through a
study of its mature development. The juxtaposition of all sorts of
religion, in quest of a common characteristic, is not the true method
of science. Yet this is the method of Mr. Spencer. His course would
be to discard whatever is distinctive in the various creeds and cults of
the race, and to fasten on the residuum, an abstract idea.1
The traditional view that the human race sprang from one pair, — a
view not treated with disfavor by certain eminent naturalists, — and
the question as to the mental and moral characteristics of " man
primeval," are topics which there is not space here to discuss. Exag
gerations on the last point, so common formerly, — as when the famous
preacher, Robert South, said that Aristotle was the rubbish of Adam and
Athens the ruins of Paradise, — are no longer heard. The deism of the
last century made a foil enlightenment respecting God, which theology
ascribed to a revelation to the primitive man, to be the product of his
own natural powers. This hypothesis is extinct ; and if there were any
sufficient warrant for that of a primitive revelation, it would still imply
a religious capacity in the recipient of it. Religion cannot be created
outright by a bare communication of facts respecting the supernatural.
To be sure, the possibility of lapses, in the course of history, from a
higher plane of religious knowledge, is sustained by facts and must be
conceded. Yet the survival in various advanced types of religion of ideas
and rites not essentially diverse from notions and cults now prevalent
in rude tribes proves that an upward movement has been a widespread
experience of mankind, whatever were the precise characteristics of the
earliest religion.
1 For a criticism of this faulty method, see Dr. E. Caird, The Evolution of
Religion, vol. i. pp. 46 seq.
387
388 APPENDIX
One thing is certain, that all speculations respecting the origin of
religion which refer it purely to an empirical or accidental source are
superficial. The theory that religious beliefs spring from tradition fails
to give any account of their origin, to say nothing of their chronic con
tinuance and of the tremendous power which they exert among men.
The notion that religions are the invention of shrewd statesmen and
rulers, devised by them as a means of managing the populace, probably
has no advocates at present. It belongs among the obsolete theories
of free-thinkers in the last century. How could religion be made so
potent an instrument if its roots were not deep in human nature ?
Timor facit deos is another opinion. Its most interesting ancient
expositor was Lucretius. Religion is supposed, on this view, to arise
from the effect on rude minds of storms, convulsions of nature, and
other phenomena which inspired terror and were referred to super
natural beings. But why should the thought of such beings spring up
in this connection ? It is a shallow hypothesis, which, for one thing,
overlooks the fact that impressions of this kind are fleeting. They
alternate, also, with aspects of nature of an entirely different character.
If nature is terrific, it is likewise gracious and bountiful. Divinities
having these mild traits appear in early mythologies. A favorite view
of a school of anthropologists at present is that religion began in
fetich-worship and arose by degrees through the worship of animals to
a conception of loftier deities conceived of as being in human form.
For this generalization the historical data are wanting. Even where
fetich-worship exists, the material object itself is not the god. Rather
is it true that the stick or stone is considered the vehicle or embodi
ment of divine agencies acting through it. "The external objects
of nature never appear to the childish fantasy as mere things of sense,
but always as animated beings, which, therefore, in some way or other,
include in themselves a spirit." l
The " philological theory " has been elaborately set forth by Max
Mliller. It traces mythological beliefs to mistakes in interpreting
language. Gender-terminations of words and phrases, implying life
and motion, at first figuratively meant, but later taken literally, are
supposed to account for the conceptions and tales of the heathen
religions. This theory labors under difficulties too numerous and
formidable to be overcome.- One of them is that the obtuse interpre
tation of metaphors is attributed not to barbarous, but to civilized men.
Animism, the natural tendency to personalize the objects and
operations of nature, is the philosophy most accepted. But the term
" animism " is employed by Tylor, one of its well-known advocates, to
1 Pfleiderer, Religionsphilosophie, p. 319.
2 A recital of these objections may be read in A. Long's article, " Mythology,"
in EncycL Brit,, vol. xxvii. p. 139.
APPENDIX 389
comprise not only the worship of deceased human beings, but also
the worship which springs from the ascription of spiritual life to material
objects in the world about us, and to the natural phenomena which
science assumes to connect with impersonal forces. Spencer, on the
contrary, would confine the beginnings of religion to the worship of
deceased ancestors.
No doubt animism, the natural impulse to personalize the objects and
operations of nature, is a principal factor in solving the problem.
Uncivilized peoples project into things, animate and inanimate, the life
and personal qualities which belong to men as these are known to them.
As such peoples may believe in their own kinship with animals and
even with plants, and as they have faith in magical arts, irrational
as well as savage myths arise. These often survive and then mingle
with myths of a higher caste, which spring up in times less ignorant
and brutal. Herbert Spencer, on the contrary, would confine the begin
nings of religion to the worship of deceased ancestors, and from this
would deduce the whole variety of religious notions and cults.
Ancestor-worship itself he would explain by a dream-theory and a
ghost-theory combined.1 The " primitive man," who is so far off as to
give room for any number of guesses about him, mistakes his shadow
for another man, the duplicate of himself. Whether he makes the
same mistake about every rock and wigwam from which a shadow is
cast, we are not told. His image seen in the water gives him a more
definite idea of his other self. Echoes help still more in the same
direction. Then there is the distinction between " the animate," or,
rather, animals, and " the inanimate." Here Spencer rejects what the
soundest writers on mythology hold, that the personifying imagination
of men, who as regards reflection are children, confounds the inanimate
with the living. The lower animals, dogs and horses, do not ; and
is man below them in knowledge ? This position of Spencer is charac
teristic of his whole theory. If man were on the level of the dog or the
horse, if he were not conscious, in some degree, of will and personality,
then, like them, he might never impute to rivers and streams and trees
personal life. Dreams, according to Spencer, create the fixed belief
that there is a duplicate man, or soul, that wanders off from the body :
hence the belief that the dead survive.2 Naturally they become objects
of reverence. So worship begins. Epilepsy, insanity, and the like
confirm the notion that ghosts come and go. A Jin man personality,
it is held, is behind a tempest, an earthquake, and every unusual
phenomenon. Temples were first the tombs of the dead. Fetiches
were parts of their clothing. Idols were their images. The belief
somehow arises that human beings disguise themselves as animals.
1 The Principles of Sociology, vol. i. ch. viii. seq.
2 First Principles, 4th ed., p. 31.
390 APPENDIX
Animal-worship is explained, in part, in this way, but mainly by a
blunder of " the primitive man.11 There was a dearth of names ; human
beings were named after beasts ; gradually the notion springs up that
the animal who gave the name was the parent of the family. Plants
with strange intoxicating qualities are assumed to be inhabited by
ghosts. Plant- worship is the result.
Spencer, at the outset, in his First Principles, favored the idea that
religion sprang out of a mistaken application of the causal principle
to the explanation of nature and of man. The later theory sketched
above is what he conceives that the evolution-doctrine demands. He
differs, as will be perceived, from the archaeologists who make religion
start with fetichism. He frowns upon those evolutionists who allow,
what they, like most scholars, feel compelled to hold, that among the
Aryans and Semites religion cannot be traced back to ancestor-worship.
Such evolutionists, Mr. Spencer observes, are not loyal to their theory.1
The circumstance that they cannot find facts to sustain the theory, so
far as these branches of the human race are concerned, ought not to
be allowed to shake their faith. He considers his opinion as the proper
tenet of agnostic orthodoxy.
The ingenious mode in which this theory is wrought out scarcely
avails even to give it plausibility. The mythical sense attached to
names of animals and things inanimate is not made a characteristic of
an earlier stage of intelligence, but of stages of a later date. The transi
tions from point to point, especially from the lower to the higher types
of religion, have an artificial aspect. The resort for evidence is not to
history, the source whence, if anywhere, satisfactory evidence should be
derived. The proofs are ethnographic. They consist of scraps of infor
mation respecting scattered tribes of savages, mostly tribes which now
exist. In this way phenomena may, no doubt, be collected, which lend
some support to the speculation about shadows, dreams, and ghosts.
But a generalization respecting savage races cannot be safely made from
miscellaneous data of this sort. That " the primitive man '' was a savage
is an assumption made at the outset. That he was unlearned, uncivil
ized, is one thing. That he was a fool, that he was not much above the
brute, is an unverified assertion. Degeneracy is not only a possible fact,
it is a fact which history and observation prove to have been actual in
the case of certain peoples. The worship of the objects of nature, as
far as can be ascertained, was not as a rule preceded by the worship of
ancestors. It is a false analogy which Mr. Spencer adduces from the
worship of saints in the Church. This practice did not precede the
worship of God ; primitive Christianity did not come after medieval.
It is a fatal difficulty in the way of the dream- and ghost-theory,
as anything more than a partial and limited account of the genesis of the
1 77ie Principles of Sociology, vol. i. p. 313.
APPENDIX SQI
religions, that it is not sustained, but is confuted, by historical investi
gation. The most prominent gods of India were, in the most ancient
records, personified natural phenomena.1 This is true of the sky-gods.
The sky-father, or father-sky, is not only preserved in India, but also in
the religions of Greece and Rome, where Zeus and Jupiter are transferred
from his Indian name. There were ghost-demons and ghost-gods, but
there were also invisible spirits which were distinguished from them,
and deities under various categories having no relationship to them,
either of descent or of transference.
In explaining the rise of religion, one would expect Mr. Spencer to
say something of the great founders whose teaching has been so potent
that eras are dated from them, and multitudes of men for ages have
enrolled themselves among their disciples. One would think that Con
fucius, Buddha, Mohammed, with whatever of peculiar illumination each
possessed, should be counted among the powerful agencies concerned in
developing the religions of mankind. But the evolution doctrine, in the
phase of it which Mr. Spencer advocates, is cut off from doing justice
to the influence of individuals. If religion had no deeper roots than are
assigned to it in Mr. Spencer's theory, it could never have gained, much
less have maintained, its hold upon men. The offspring, at every step,
of error and delusion, it would have been short-lived. Mr. Spencer has
presented valuable suggestions in the study of the origin of supersti
tions ; but his view as a whole is a signal instance of the consequences
of adhesion to a metaphysical theory, with only a partial survey of facts,
and a failure to penetrate to the deeper principles of human nature.
Even as an acconnt of the genesis of certain superstitions, his theory
needs to bring in as one element a sense of the supernatural, a yearning
for a higher communion.
There is a wide interval between hypotheses of the character noticed
above and the more elevated theory that religion arises from the percep
tion of marks of design in nature. But even this falls short of being a
satisfactory solution of the problem. Not to dwell on the facts, that the
adaptations of nature impress different minds with unequal degrees of
force, and that of themselves they fail to exhibit the infinitude and the
moral attributes of deity, it is evident that the phenomena of religion
require us to assume a profounder and more spiritual source to account
for them. This must be found in deeper perceptions and aspirations
within the human soul.
A capital defect in many of the hypotheses broached to account for the
1 Professor Edward Hopkins, India Old and New, pp. 93 seq. This is a late
as well as thorough exposition of the subject. Sir Henry Maine, who recog
nizes the prevalence of ancestor-worship, remarks that the theory attached to
it "has been made to account for more than it will readily explain." — Sir
Henry Maine, Dissertations on Early Laiv and Custom, vol. i. p. 69.
392 APPENDIX
origin of religion is that they make it the fruit of an intellectual curi
osity. It is regarded as being the product of an attempt to account for
the world as it presents itself before the human intelligence. It is true
that religion as a practical experience contains an ingredient of knowl
edge ; yet it is a great mistake to regard the intellectual or scientific
tendency as the main root of religious faith and devotion. Belief in
God does not lie at the end of a path of inquiry of which the motive is
the desire to explore the causes of things. It arises in the soul in a
more spontaneous way, and in a form in which feeling plays a more
prominent part. " Those who lay exclusive stress on the proof of the
existence of God from the marks of design in the world, or from the
necessity of supposing a first cause for all phenomena, overlook the fact
that man learns to pray before he learns to reason ; that he feels within
him the consciousness of a supreme being and the instinct of worship
before he can argue from effects to causes, or estimate the traces of wis
dom and benevolence scattered through the creation." 1
In connection with the foregoing observations a few additional
remarks on the nature and origin of myths will not be out of place.
A myth is, in form, a narrative, resembling in this respect the fable,
parable, and allegory. But, unlike these, the idea or feeling from which
the myth springs, and which, in a sense, it embodies, is not reflectively
distinguished from the narrative, but rather is blended with it ; the
latter being, as it wrere, the native form in which the idea or sentiment
spontaneously arises. Moreover, there is no consciousness on the
part of those from wrhom the myth emanates that this product of their
fancy and feeling is fictitious. The fable is a fictitious story, contrived
to inculcate a moral. So the parable is a similitude framed for the
express purpose of representing abstract truth to the imagination.
Both fable and parable are the result of conscious invention. In both,
the symbolical character of the narrative is distinctly recognized.
From the myth, on the contrary, the element of deliberation is utterly
absent. There is no questioning of its reality, no criticism or inquiry
on the point, but the most simple, unreflecting faith. A like habit
of feeling we find in children, who, delighting in narrative, improvise
narrative. It is difficult for us to realize that childlike condition of
mind which belonged to the early age of nations, when the creations
of personifying sentiment and fancy were endued, in the faith of those
from whom they sprang, with this unquestioned reality. It is almost
as difficult as to reproduce those states of mind in which the funda
mental peculiarities of language germinate : peculiarities in respect to
which the philological explorer can only say that so mankind in their
infancy looked upon things and actions. But there is no doubt as to
the fact that the mythologies had this character. They are frequently,
1 Mansel, The Limits of Religious Thought, p. 115.
APPENDIX 393
— at least they were, — the pure creation of the mythopceic faculty;
the incarnated faith and feeling of a primitive age, when scientific
reflection had not yet set bounds to fancy. Science brought reflection.
The attempt of Euemerus to clear early mythical tales of improbabilities
and incongruities, and to find at the bottom a residuum of veritable
history, and the attempts of both physical and moral philosophers
to elicit from them an allegorical sense, are, one and all, the fruit of that
scepticism which culture brought with it, and proceed upon a totally
false view of the manner in which the myths originate. When these
theories came up, the spell of the old faith was already broken. They
are the efforts of rationalism to keep up some attachment to obsolete
beliefs, or to save itself from conscious irreverence or popular dis
pleasure. A state of mind had arisen wholly different from that which
prevailed in the credulous, unreflecting, childlike period, when a com
mon fear or faith embodied itself spontaneously in a fiction which was
artlessly taken for fact.1
As we have implied, back of the authentic history of most nations
lies a mythical era. And whenever the requisite conditions are present,
the mythopceic instinct is active. The middle ages furnish a striking
example. The fountain of sentiment and fancy in the uncultured
1 K. O. Miiller's Prolegomena zu einer wissenschaftlichen Mythologie (1825)
did much to open the way to an understanding of the true nature of the
myth. The lectures of Schelling on the Introduction to Mythology (see
Schilling's Sammtliche Werke, II. Abth. i.) still retain their value as an able
and elaborate discussion. Schelling examines at length the various theories
which have been proposed to account for the origin of mythology, including
those of Heyne, Hermann, Hume, Voss, Creuzer, and others. He disproves
all the irreligious hypotheses and expounds in an interesting and profound
way his own view, which is the same in spirit as that of M tiller, although the
latter, in the opinion of Schelling (p. 199), has not applied his theory to
the first origination of the conceptions of the gods, but rather to their mytho
logical doings — the mythological history. Schelling applauds the remarks
of Coleridge on this subject, and says that he gives the latter a dispensation
for the alleged free borrowing from his writings, in return for the single word
which Coleridge has suggested as a proper description of myths. They are
not <7//^gorical, says Coleridge, but /<-m&'gorical. Schelling maintains that
the primitive religion of mankind was " relative monotheism," that is, the
worship of one God who is not known in his absolute character. Thence
polytheism arose, so that this one God was only the first of a series.
Among the expositions of the general subject, the sixteenth and seventeenth
chapters of the first volume of Grote's History of Greece have not lost their
interest. Mr. Grote shows the spontaneity that characterizes the origin
of myths. In some important respects his view is defective. No theory
is complete which omits to take account of the religious nature of man and
his aspirations after communion with God.
394 APPENDIX
nations of Europe divaricated, so to speak, into two channels, — the
religious myth and the myth of chivalry. When we have eliminated
from the immense mass of legendary history which forms the lives
of the saints what is due to pious frauds (though these presuppose a
ready faith), and what is historical, being due to morbid or otherwise
extraordinary psychological states, and, if the reader so pleases, to
miracle, there still remain a multitude of narratives involving super
natural events, which last have no foundation whatever in fact, but
were yet thoroughly believed by those from whose fancy, enlivened and
swayed by religious sentiment, they emanated.
NOTE 2 (p. 49)
Commenting on Paley's illustration of the watch, Huxley, in his Lay
Sermons, writes as follows : —
" Suppose only that one had been able to show that the watch had
not been made directly by any person, but that it was the result of the
modification of another watch, which kept time but poorly ; and that
this again had proceeded from a structure which could hardly be called
a watch at all, seeing that it had no figures on the dial and the hands
were rudimentary ; and that, going back and back, in time we came at
last to a revolving barrel as the earliest traceable rudiment of the whole
fabric. And imagine that all these changes had resulted, first, from
a tendency of the structure to vary indefinitely, and, secondly, from
something in the surrounding world which helped all variations in the
direction of an accurate time-keeper, and checked all these in other
directions, and then it is obvious that the force of Paley's argument
would be gone ; for it would be demonstrated that an apparatus thor
oughly well adapted to a particular purpose might be the result of a
method of trial and error worked by unintelligent agents, as well as of
the direct application of the means appropriate to that end."1
Here we have the supposition of indefinite variation, which Huxley
himself, as we shall see, is not prepared to affirm. Not to dwell on this
point, we have, in the case supposed, " a revolving barrel " at one end
of the line and a watch with its complex apparatus, by which it is fitted
to record time, at the other. At the outset the barrel, with its inherent
capacities, requires to be accounted for, in connection with that some
thing which tends to one or another diverging path. The "surrounding
world1' is not outside of the system of things to which the production
of the watch is due. The actual end evinces that " the means appro
priate to that end took part in it." The passage in the text (p. 49)
which is cited from Huxley exposes the fallacy of the foregoing para
graph. As to a tendency to indefinite variation, see above in this work,
pp. 51 seq.
1 Lay Sermons, pp. 330, 331,
APPENDIX 39-
In his interesting book on the crayfish, Huxley says : —
" Under one aspect the result of the search after the rationale of
animal structure thus" — i.e. by the discovery in animals of arrange
ments by which results, of a kind similar to those which their [men's]
own ingenuity effects through mechanical contrivances, are brought
about — " is Teleology, or the doctrine of adaptation to purpose. Under
another aspect it is Physiology.*^
" The body of the animal [the crayfish] may be regarded as a factory,
provided with various pieces of machinery, by means of which," etc.,
..." to which material particles converge . . . from which they are
afterward expelled in new combinations" (p. 84).
One of the most remarkable differences between " the living factory
and those which we construct1' is that "it not only enlarges itself,
but, as we have seen, it is capable of executing its own repairs to a very
considerable extent." 2
" If all that we know concerning the purpose of a mechanism is
derived from observation of the manner in which it acts, it is all one
whether we say that the properties and the connections of its parts
account for its actions, or that its structure is adapted to the perform
ance of those actions." 3
If the terms are given their proper significance in the foregoing
extracts, their purport is theistic.
Happily we have statements of Huxley which imply something above
mechanical agencies, and, especially in later utterances, ethical proposi
tions occur which are not consistent with agnostic denials that leave
no room for freedom and responsibility. In the Lay Sermons is the
comparison of life to a game of chess. " The calm, strong angel," who
is the player on the right side, "pays the highest strikes with overflow
ing generosity," and "would rather lose than win."4 In the Lecture
on Descartes it is said of those who hold that there is nothing in the
world but matter and force and necessary laws, " I decline to follow
them." "Laws and moral precepts," Huxley affirms, "are directed to
the end of curbing the cosmic process and reminding the individual
of his duty to the community." " Goodness or virtue demands self-
restraint." Still more significant in the right direction are expressions
in the Romanes Lecture, one of Huxley's latest productions, where,
speaking of the struggle of conscience with the cosmic forces, he
remarks that "ethical nature, while born of cosmic nature, is neces
sarily at enmity with its parent."5
The change from the position of Huxley, as expressed in the declara
tion that " it is utterly impossible " to prove " that anything whatever
1 The Crayfish, etc., p. 47. 2 Ibid,, p. 86. 3 Ibid,, p. 137.
4 Lay Sermons, Addresses, etc. (1871), p. 31.
5 See Evolution and Ethics and Other Essays (1894), pp. 81-85.
396 APPENDIX
may not be the effect of a material and necessary cause," to the posi
tion that " our one certainty is the existence of the mental world," that
necessity is not a physical fact but an " empty shadow of my own
mind's throwing," shows a leaning no longer to materialism or " agnostic
monism," but to spiritualism and a "duality in unity." It is not the
former conception of man as a conscious automaton.1
NOTE 3 (p. 50)
Darwin often found it difficult to avoid giving way to the evidences of
design in nature. In the book on the Fertilization of Orchids is this
passage (which is retained in the Revised Edition (1877), p. 351) :
"The more I study nature, the more I become impressed with ever
increasing force with the conclusion that the contrivances and beautiful
adaptations slowly acquired through each part occasionally varying in a
slight degree but in many ways, with the preservation or natural selec
tion of those variations which are beneficial to the organism under the
complex and ever varying conditions of life, transcend in an incompar
able degree the contrivances and adaptations which the most fertile
imagination of the most imaginative man could suggest." When the
Duke of Argyll, in conversation, referred to the wonderful contrivances
for certain purposes in nature which Darwin had brought out in this and
other works, Darwin said : " < Well, that often comes over me with over
whelming force; but at other times,'" and he shook his head vaguely,
adding, " ' it seems to go away.1 " 2
Darwin's scepticism respecting final causes is sometimes associated
with the interpretation for which theology is in some degree responsible,
that design in nature is solely for the end of being beneficial to man,
or, at least, exclusively for some impression upon human observers. It
is interesting to notice that in nature he was ready to believe in the
wisdom of a contrivance which appeared unwise. Thus, in the first
edition of the Fertilization of Orchids (1862), he says (p. 359) : "It is
an astonishing fact that self-fertilization should not have been an habit
ual occurrence. It apparently demonstrates to us that there must be
something injurious in the process." Later (1877), in the correspond
ing paragraph (p. 293), he explains that the perplexity is removed by
the discovery of the good effects that follow, " in most cases, cross-
fertilization," and by the fact that he had proved that there is " some
thing injurious" in the process of self-fertilization. In reference to the
fruits of design in nature, on the whole, Darwin expresses the belief
1 This change is lucidly demonstrated by Ward, Naturalism and Agnos
ticism, vol. ii. pp. 210 seq.
- Good Words, April, 1885; quoted in Darwin's Life and Letters (vol. i.
.-285).
APPENDIX 397
that " all sentient beings have been formed so as to enjoy, as a general
rule, happiness,11 and that " all sentient beings have been so developed,
through natural selection, that pleasurable sensations serve as their
habitual guides.'1 1 Another source of the scepticism which prevented
the absolute rejection of what he terms " the intolerable thought that he
[man] and all other sentient beings are doomed to complete annihila
tion after such long-continued slow progress," and the full acceptance of
theism, despite "the extreme difficulty or rather impossibility of con
ceiving this immense and wonderful universe, including in it his [man's]
capacity of looking far backwards and far into futurity, as the result of
blind chance or necessity," is the doubt, the "horrid doubt" as he calls
it, which, to use his own words, always arises whether the convictions
of man's mind, which has been developed from the minds of lower
animals, are of any value or at all trustworthy." '2
The stumbling-block was the question whether a mind having such an
origin is competent "to draw such grand conclusions." Of course,
scepticism from this motive would, if carried out, sap the founda
tions of our beliefs generally. We simply follow the example of the
sincere and noble man in referring to what he styles " the curious and
lamentable loss of the higher aesthetic taste," " the atrophy of that part
of the brain alone on which the higher tastes depend.'1 The delight
which he had once felt in poetry and music and fine scenery fades out.
" The loss of these tastes," he frankly says, "may possibly be injurious
to the intellect, and more probably to the moral character." 3 Along
with this loss, the religious sentiment, which had once been deep with
" higher feelings of wonder, admiration, and devotion," gradually ceased
to be felt. He might be said, he adds, "to have become like a man
who has become color-blind, if faith in God and such convictions and
feeling were universal, like the perceptions of color/14 It is fair to say
that religious feelings are as prevalent, and have had as deep a root in
the race, as are the class of feelings which Darwin styles aesthetic.
NOTE 4 (p. 56)
The ancient objection, which is based on the existence of evil, to the
doctrine of theism concerning the attributes of God is restated by Hume.
Either God wills to prevent -evil, but cannot, in which case he is not
omnipotent ; or he can prevent evil, but will not, in which case he is
not benevolent ; or he neither can. nor wills, to prevent evil, in which
case he is neither omnipotent nor benevolent. Theologians in times
past dwelt on the benefits resulting from that double manifestation, of
1 Life and Letters, pp. 279, 280. 3 Ibid., pp. Si, 82.
2 Ibid., pp. 282, 285. 4 Ibid., p. 281.
398 APPENDIX
which moral evil furnishes the occasion, of both the justice and mercy
of God. They have gone so far as to propound the doctrine that it is
good that evil should exist, so far as it actually does exist. In this
class of theologians belong the great names of Augustine, Aquinas, and
Calvin. Leibnitz, in his theodicy, defends the thesis that the freedom
of the creaturely will and the consequent possibility of sin is the indis
pensable condition of the best moral system. But even Leibnitz, in his
thesis that this is the best of all possible worlds, stops short of a dis
tinct discrimination, without which the vindication of theism against
the old objection is incomplete. The possible inconsistency of an
absolute exclusion of evil from the best moral system by the interposi
tion of divine power is one thing ; the prevention of sin by the right
choices of those guilty of it is another. The proposition, therefore, that
in any instance it is good that wrong — instead of right — exists, i.e.
that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good, is unwarranted
and untenable. The mystery that invests the moral system, regarded
as universal, and the precise character of its final issues render adverse
criticism presumptuous, especially in view of the truth that no moral
being can fail of the true end of his being unless through his own per
sistent choice of evil instead of good. The problem of the existence
and continuance of evil, moral and physical, is discussed in a sound and
lucid manner by Dr. A. M. Fairbairn, in The Philosophy of the Christian
Religion (1892). Especially worthy of attention are his observations on
moral and physical evil as " organically related in the mind of him who
governs nature and man" (pp. 163 seq.), on a state of suffering, not one
of probation, but of recovery from lapse, the last word and not Nature's
(pp. 1 66 seq.*). The fact of evil, moral and physical, is not to be con
sidered by itself, but as coupled wTith the divine purpose of redemption.
So far as life is a probation, it is an incidental circumstance, not a chief
end in the divine system.
NOTE 5 (p. 66)
"Pantheism, in one or another of its protean forms, is a way of think
ing about the universe that has proved its influence over millions of
minds. ... It has governed the religious and philosophical thought
of India for ages. Except in Palestine, with its intense Hebrew con
sciousness of a personal God, it has been characteristic of Asiatic
thought. It is the religious philosophy of a moiety of the human race.
In the West we find a pantheistic idea at work in different degrees of
distinctness, — in the pre-Socratic schools of Greece, as in Parmenides ;
after Socrates, among the Stoics ; then among the Neo-Platonists of
Alexandria, with Plolinus in ecstatic elevation, — a signal representative ;
again, in a striking form, in Scotus Erigena, who startles us with intrepid
speculation in the darkness of the ninth century, the least philosophical
APPENDIX 399
period in European history ; yet again, with Bruno as its herald, after
the Renaissance ; and in the seventeenth century the speculative thought
of Europe culminated in Spinoza's articulated pantheistic unity and
necessity. The pantheistic conception was uncongenial to the spirit
and methods of the eighteenth century, but it is at the root of much
present religious and scientific speculation in Europe and America. It
emerges in the superconscious intuition of Schelling : it has affinities
with the absolute self-consciousness of the Hegelian : it is implied in
the Absolute Will and the Unconscious Absolute of Schopenhauer and
Hartmann in Germany, and in England it has affinity with the Unknow
able Power behind phenomena of Herbert Spencer. . . . Pantheistic
science, universal nescience, and theistic faith are three ideals now
before Europe and the world, with some educated and more half-edu
cated thoughts oscillating between the first and the second. Which of
these three is the most reasonable final conception — the fittest for man
in the full breadth of his physical and spiritual being? " l
NOTE 6 (p. 82)
Mr. John Fiske, in his posthumous publication, The Life Everlasting
(pp. 72 seq.), refers to the question, " Does correlation obtain between
physical motions and conscious feelings?" He says that when he first
asked Tyndal the question, he seemed to think that there must be some
such correlation. " Herbert Spencer in his First Principles rather cau
tiously took the same direction and tried to show how a certain amount
of motion might be transformable into a certain amount of feeling. . . .
It is especially worthy of note that in the final edition of First Prin
ciples, published in the year 1900, and in Spencer's eighty-first, he goes
very far toward withdrawing from his original position. In my Cosmic
Philosophy, published in 1874. I maintained that to form the trans
formation of motion into feeling or feeling into motion is in the very
nature of things impossible." " The mass of activities concentrated
within our bodies . . . shows us a closed circle which is entirely
physical1' (p. 79).
NOTE 7 (p. 83)
" Physical science is the discovery in nature of the principles and
laws of reason pervading and regulating nature. If these principles
had been in the reason of man, but not in nature, man could never
have put them into nature, nor have caused nature to be regulated
by them. If they had been in nature and not in the reason of man,
man never could have discovered them nor formed any conception
1 Professor A. C. Eraser, Philosophy of Theism, pp. 80, 8 1, 85.
400 - APPENDIX
of them. And this is only recognizing from a new point of view the
synthesis of phenom'enon and noumenon, which, in contrast to Kant's
antithesis of them, I have already shown to be essential to all rational
intelligence. An intelligible object is impossible without an intelligent
subject. The noumena, or necessary principles and ideas of reason, are
the unchanging forms in which reality is known by rational intelligence.
If all that is known by man is phenomenal and not the real being,
because known in relation to his mind, and the noumenon or real
being is out of this relation and unknowable by man, then all that
is known by any mind is phenomenal and unreal because known in
relation to that mind. Thus we have the monstrous absurdity that
noumena exist as pure objects out of all relation to all and every
intelligent mind, that is, pure objects unintelligible to any mind and
contrary to any and every principle of reason."
..." Truth has no significance except as some mind is its subject;
for truth is the intellectual equivalent of reality. There can be no
truth or law without a mind, as there can be no perception without a
percipient and no thought without a thinker. We only delude our
selves by hypostasizing either perceptions or thoughts or truths as
if they were substantial beings. Truths do not float loose about the
universe, independent of mind. But in the development of man's
rational constitution he finds himself having knowledge of truths which
are universal and regulative of all his thinking which transcends his
experience and condition all the reality which comes under his observa
tion. There must be a supreme reason that is the subject and source
of these truths and in that reason they must be the eternal and
archetypal principles of all that begins to be." l
. . . " These principles cannot be peculiar to an individual. I know
that they are not mine ; I have not created them ; I cannot change them
nor set them aside. They must be principles of a reason above and
beyond me, a reason that is eternal, universal, and supreme. Nor can
they have originated in the evolution of the human race. If they were
brought into human consciousness by the evolution of the primitive
man through many generations, yet even while lying germinal and
unconscious in his undeveloped constitution, they regulate man's
development itself and direct it in its long progress to conscious
rationality ; they also regulate the corresponding development of nature
in accordance with rational laws, and to the realization of rational
principles and ends. They cannot, therefore, have originated with man,
either the individual or the race, but must have existed before the
evolution began, in a reason that is universal and supreme.'" 2
1 Dr. Samuel Harris, Philosophical Basis of Theism, p. 120.
2 Harris, Ibid., p. 145.
APPENDIX 401
" Even if our categories were purely subjective, it is impossible we
should ever come to know it ; and the idea of a world of things in
themselves, apart from the world we know, may easily be shown to
dissolve in contradictions. A world, real and independent of the
individual's transient acts of knowledge, is not a world divorced from
intelligence altogether. The fact, therefore, that a category lives
subjectively in the act of the knowing mind, is no proof that the
category does not at the same time truly express the nature of the
reality known. It would be so only if we suppose the knowing subject
to stand outside of the real universe altogether, and to come to inspect
it from afar with mental spectacles of a foreign make. In that case,
no doubt, the forms of his thought might be a distorting medium. But
the case only requires to be stated plainly for its inherent absurdity
to be seen. The knower is in the world which he comes to know, and
the forms of his thought, so far from being an alien growth or an
.mported product, are themselves a function of the whole. As a French
writer l puts it, " consciousness, so far from being outside reality, is the
immediate presence of reality to itself and the inward unrolling of its
riches.11 When this is once grasped, the idea of thought as a kind
of necessary evil — Kant really treats it as such — ceases to have even
a superficial plausibility. Unless we consider existence a bad joke, we
have no option save tacitly to presuppose the harmony of the sub
jective function with the nature of the universe from which it springs." 2
NOTE 8 (p. 86)
The corner-stone of the system of Matthew Arnold, if system it
could be called, is a conception of God which he not only regards
as true, and evidently true, but even identifies with the biblical idea
respecting this fundamental point. His theory may be termed an
unscientific Pantheism ; or perhaps, inasmuch as he does not profess
to exhaust the conception of the Deity by his definition, an Agnostic
Pantheism. In Literature and Dogma, with much, although it can
scarcely be said with wearisome, iteration he explains that the equivalent
of God is " the Power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness.1'
One would suppose that we have here a distinct expression of what,
not lettered persons alone, but the world at large as well, mean by
"cause,11 and designate by this name. But no! our author warns us
that such notions belong to " metaphysics,11 and were quite foreign
to the simple Israelites. Moreover, we ourselves run off into specula
tion the moment we talk of them. There is a Power, a Power exerting
itself, or being exerted, a Power exerting itself for a particular end, or
producing a definite effect ; yet it must not be denominated a " cause.11
1 M. Fouillee, in his I? fcvolutionnisme des Idees-forces.
2 A. Seth, Two Lectures on Theism, pp. 18, 19,
2D
402 APPENDIX
Most people, whether simple or not, would be moved to ask what
more precise description of cause and causal agency could be given
than is involved in this favorite phrase of Arnold. In his second
work, God and the Bible, he makes an elaborate effort to explain
his remarkable definition of God, and the Israelites' conception of
him, and to rule out the idea that under the " Power, not ourselves,"
there is included the notion of a being. In this latter work we are
told that we must not think of " the Power that makes for righteous
ness " as inhering in a subject, — this is a misconception ; it is anthropo
morphic. Is all that is meant, then, that righteousness is observed, or
is believed, to be followed by blessedness? Is there nothing but the
bare fact of a succession of consequent to antecedent, after the manner
of Hume's theory of causation? More than this is intended. There
is an " operation " which yields this result. Things are so constituted
that the supposed effect is produced. It is a " law of nature " like the
law of gravitation. It is a " stream of tendency." When we speak,
and when the Israelites spoke, of the " Power that makes for righteous
ness " as " eternal," all that is really meant is that righteousness always
was and always will be attended with blessing. Arnold does not seem
to be aware that in trying to fence off the conception of being as con
nected with the " Power, not ourselves," he does not succeed in escaping
from what he styles "metaphysics." There is an "operation" left;
there is " a perceived energy." The doctrine is simply this : that the
world — things collectively taken — is such that a certain result,
namely, blessedness, is sure to be worked out by the practice of right
eousness. It falls short of being a dogmatic Pantheism by the added
statement that we cannot "pretend to know the origin and composition
of the Power" in question; we cannot say that it is a person or thing.
In one place Arnold professes that he will not deny that " the Power "
is "a conscious intelligence." But ordinarily he treats the conception
that his "Power" is intelligent as pure anthropomorphism. If it be
this, why admit it even as a possibility? If Arnold had pondered the
subject more deeply, he might have perceived that the idea of person
ality, when connected with the conception of God, involves no philo
sophical difficulty. If by anthropomorphism is meant the limiting
of God, or making him finite, no such consequence follows from
personality.
It is interesting to inquire what becomes of devotion, of what men
have always meant by prayer and communion with God, when God
is made to be nothing more than a law of things, "a stream of ten
dency." In a foot-note Arnold gives the following answer : '• All good
and fruitful prayer, however men may describe it, is at bottom nothing
else than an energy of aspiration towards the Eternal, not ourselves,
that makes for righteousness, — of aspiration towards it and cooperation
with it." The Eternal, it must be remembered, which is referred to by
APPENDIX 403
the use of the pronoun //, signifies no being, — this is expressly dis
claimed. " It," " the Eternal," is the fact that " righteousness was
salvation," and will " go on being salvation." " It," " the Eternal,"
is the experienced and expected conjunction of these two things.
What aspiration towards " it," and co-operation with " it " denote, and
with what propriety either of these or both together can be taken to
signify prayer, in particular supplication which has always been held to
be the prime essential in prayer, we are left to conjecture.
Considering the tendencies of the time in the direction of Pantheistic
thought, it is not a matter for surprise that Arnold should bring forward
the notion of an impersonal divinity. There is, however, some reason
for astonishment that he should present his conception as the kernel
of the Israelites1 faith, the living God of whom the Prophets spoke, and
in praise of whose perfection the Psalms were composed. He admits,
to be sure, that the Hebrews personified, and could not but personify,
"the Stream of tendency." Surely it is nothing short of an amazing
error to regard the personal qualities which the Hebrews attached
to God as an accidental and separable element in their faith. Take
away the personality of God, and what basis would have remained for
that living communion with him, that joy in him, which formed the
life and soul of the Hebrew religion? Substitute the vague abstrac
tions which make up this Pantheistic definition of deity for the desig
nations of God in the Prophets and the Psalms, and the frigidity
and almost ludicrous emptiness that remain, fairly exhibit the Hebrew
religion as it would have been if its essential contents had accorded
with our author's idea of it. Not even an intuition is allowed them
of this imaginary divinity, the connection of righteousness with har>
piness, but their knowledge of " it " is described as empirical ; it is
something found out by experience. " From all they could themselves
make out, and from all that their fathers had told them," they arrived
at the conclusion that righteousness was the way to happiness. The
truth is that in the Hebrew mind righteousness was infinitely more
than a perceived condition of being happy. It was a requirement from
without, from the Holy One. Their delight was in him. When they
failed in righteousness, as fail they did, the only hope of happiness was
through contrition and pardon from God.
NOTE 9 (p. 93)
To illustrate adequately, with the emotions connected with it, the
power of self-accusation, and to show its prevalence, would require a
copious volume. Poetry and the drama, as well as biographical literature,
offer endless materials. This is true if every departure from records
marked by soundness and sanity were to be avoided. Place may be
given to a single instance. Robert Burns, under date of January, 1794,
404 APPENDIX
having given way, under temptation, to unworthy impulses of sensual
feeling, expresses the self-abasement that follows in the words : " Regret !
Remorse ! Shame ! Ye three hell-hounds that ever dog my steps and
bay at my heels," etc. Referring to the same occurrence in a letter
to another person, under date of February 25, 1794, he writes : "Canst
thou minister to a mind diseased ? Canst thou speak peace and rest
to a soul tossed on a sea of troubles, without one friendly star to
guide her course, and dreading that the next surge may overwhelm her ? "
In another paragraph of the same letter these lines occur — '• senses of
the mind, if I may be allowed the expression, which connect us with,
and link us to, those awful obscure realities — an all-powerful and equally
beneficent God, and a world to come, beyond death and the grave."
These lines also follow : " I know of some who laugh at religion. . . .
Nor would I quarrel with a man for his irreligion any more than I
would for the want of a musical ear." — The Works of Burns, Douglas's
ed., 1877-1879, vol. vi. pp. 65, 118.
NOTE 10 (p. 167)
The following extracts from well-known teachers of philosophy ex
hibit the trend of psychical science.
" The one fundamental reality, the actual Being whose characteristics
are recognized by the categories, whose work is both nature considered
as the system of material things and also all the spirits of men consid
ered in their historical development, is the Absolute Self. And the
innermost essence of such an Absolute Self is Spirit. From Spirit, then,
come nature and all spirits ; and in dependence on this Spirit they live
and develop." l
The essential and real nature of matter, in the full significance of the
word " Reality," is to be known only in terms of the Life of the Spirit.
That system of interrelated beings which constitutes the world as
known to man is the " manifestation under the present conditions of
space and time, of an infinite and eternal spirit."2
"The various categories whereby realistic thought constructs reality
proved to be the bare forms of intelligence, projected beyond intelligence
and thereby made meaningless. Being, causality, unity, identity, turned
out to be unintelligible and impossible apart from intelligence. It
finally appeared that the world of things can be defined and understood
only as we give up the notion of an extra-mental reality altogether and
make the entire world a thought-world ; that is, a world that exists only
through and in relation to intelligence. Mind is the only ontological
reality. Ideas have only a conceptual reality. Ideas energized by
1 Professor George T. Ladd, A Theory of Reality, pp. 458, 459.
2 Ibid., p. 408.
APPENDIX 405
will have phenomenal reality. Besides these realities there is no
other." !
"Historically, it might be described as Kantianized Berkeleianism.
In itself it might be called phenomenalism, as indicating that the outer
world has only phenomenal reality. It might also be called objective
idealism, as emphasizing the independence of the object of individual
subjectivity. It is idealism as denying all extra-mental existence and
making the world of objective experience a thought-world which would
have neither meaning nor possibility apart from intelligence. And this
is the conception to which speculative thought is fast coining. ... In
this view . . . the mechanical and materialistic view finds a recognition
of its phenomenal truth, together with an escape from its essential error.'1 '2
" From our own point of view the natural has its source and abiding
cause in the fundamental reality, which is living will and intelligence ;
and physical nature is throughout only the form and product of its im
manent and ceaseless causality. The question of miracle, then, is not
a question of natural versus supernatural, nor a question of causality,
but only a question of the phenomenal relations of the event in question.
. . . The miracle could only be viewed as an event arriving apart from
the accustomed order and defying reduction to rule." 3
" The habit of looking upon nature as a system of necessary causality
easily leads to the conception that all phenomena are to be explained
within the system itself. There must be no interferences or irruptions
from without under penalty of the speculator's displeasure." 4
" The only definition of nature which criticism will allow is, the sum-
total and system of phenomena which are subject to law. The defini
tion of physical nature is, the sum-total of spatial phenomena and their
laws. This nature is throughout effect, and contains no causation and
no necessity in it. ... But when nature as cause is posited as some
blind agent or agents, it represents only bad metaphysics."5
The Contentio Veritatis, etc. (London, 1902), in the opening
chapter (by Rev. N. Rashdall) on " The Ultimate Basis of Theism,"
maintains the proposition that " things cannot be conceived of as exist
ing by themselves," that "they exist only for mind" and cannot exist
" apart from mind," but they exist " not for our minds only ; yet that
things have an objective as well as subjective being, and that, therefore,
Universal or Divine Mind must have existed ; that the argument from
causality shows God as willing 2>n& not merely thinking the universe.
Mr. Rashdall holds that "'psychical research" may hereafter extend
farther than has yet been the fact the limits of what may be regarded as
possible in the category of events which have been denominated mira
cles, without any further violation of the laws of nature than is implied
1 Professor Bowne, Metaphysics, pp. 422, 423. 2 Ibid., p. 423.
3 Ibid., p. 202. 4 Ibid., p. 263. 5 Ibid., p. 262.
406 APPENDIX
in the normal action of the human will. "But," it is added, "there
is no probability that it will ever reverse the verdict which has been
passed t on some other events recorded in the Old and New Testaments.' "
NOTE ii (p. 172)
The late Professor Huxley, in his Lay Sermons and in his Contro
versial Papers, set forth his philosophical opinions. The clever inven
tion of the term "Agnosticism " is due to him. In these writings he
expressed the opinion that what we call mind is a collection or series of
sensations standing in certain relations to each other, and that this is
all we know about it. That there is a thinking agent, such as men gen
erally suppose to exist when they use the word /, there is no proof.
There is a uniformity of succession in the sensations which constitute
the soul, as far as we know anything of it or have any reason to assert
anything of it ; but there is no freedom of choice, in the sense that the
circumstances, internal and external, being the same, any different deter
mination of the will from that which actually takes place is possible.
" What we call the operations of the mind," he says, " are functions of
the brain, and the materials of consciousness are products of cerebral
activity.1' But the brain, like everything else that is alive, is developed
from protoplasm, the primitive form of living matter. Huxley avows
that we have no explanation of the way in which life may have origi
nated from inorganic matter, but he indicates no doubt that it had this
origin. The reader would naturally say that \ve have here a scheme of
bald materialism. But this imputation is repudiated. He insists that
we have no knowledge of anything but the heap of sensations, impres
sions, feeling, — or by whatever name they may be called. There may
be a real something without, which is the cause of all our impressions.
In that case, sensations are the symbols of that unknown something.
This conclusion Huxley favors, although he is at pains to declare that
idealism is unassailable by any means of disproof within the limits of
positive knowledge. The inconvenience is attached to this last alter
native, that it really involves the giving up by the idealist of belief in
anybody, as \vell as anything, outside of himself. It involves the doc
trine which metaphysicians style solipsism. Professor Huxley affirms
that " our mental conditions are simply the symbols in consciousness
of the changes that take place automatically in the organism," and that
"'we are conscious automata." Yet in another place he is equally sure
that " our one certainty is the existence of the mental world ; " the exist
ence of " force " and " matter " is nothing more than " a highly probable
hypothesis." 1 But the " something " of which the brain is a product is
1 Collected Essays, vol. ix. p. 130. For a searching analysis of Huxley's con
ception of psycho-parallelism, or conscious automatism, see Ward, Naturalism
and Agnosticism, vol. ii. p. 216. The oscillation of Huxley between a (prac
tical) materialism and solipsism is lucidly exposed.
APPENDIX 407
unintelligent ; and when the brain dissolves, there is nothing to prove
that the phenomena of intelligence continue. There is no proof that
the soul, that is, the series of sensations, does not come to an end. As
to the existence of a personal God, this is one of the propositions which
are incapable of being established. " In respect to the existence and
attributes of the soul, as of those of the Deity," says Professor Huxley,
"logic is powerless and reason silent." As regards the attributes of
God, — justice, benevolence, and the like, — he indicates no dissent
from the " searching critical negation " of Hume. If there be a God,
he thinks it demonstrable that God must be " the cause of all evil as
well as all good," — a conclusion which would follow, to be sure, from
the tenet that man is not a personal agent, spontaneously and freely
originating his voluntary actions, but is no proper adjunct of the oppo
site doctrine.
In his book on Hume, Professor Huxley refers to the doctrines and
arguments of Bishop Butler. " The solid sense of Butler," he says,
"left the Deism of the Freethinkers not a leg to stand upon." But
Hume, he intimates, has been successful where they failed. Hume does
not concede what the Deists admitted. In the passage which Professor
Huxley cites from Hume's Inquiry there is no denial of a supreme gov
ernor or of divine providence. Hume's position, or the idea which he
puts into the mouth of the Epicurean, is that although experience shows
that a virtuous course of life is attended with happiness, and a vicious
course of life with misery, yet this experience affords not the least ground
for expecting consequences of a like kind after life is over. "Every
argument," says Hume, " deduced from causes to effects, must of neces
sity be a gross sophism, since it is impossible for you to know anything
of the cause but what you have antecedently not inferred, but described
to the full, in the effect.1' This sweeping statement rests on the baldest
empiricism. By parity of reasoning, if we cannot go an inch beyond
what we have seen, we should have to say of a man who in a long course
of conduct had acted justly, that we cannot infer in him the existence
of an established disposition to conform to the dictates of justice in the
future. However, Hume illogically admits that an expectation of this
character is valid as far as " the ordinary course of events is concerned."
His real ground, although it is not openly stated, is that we have no
proof of a future state of being ; and if he does not reject the belief in
a supreme governor, and in divine providence as active in the present
world, his silence on this point springs merely from civility or reserve.
But it is only necessary to step out of the prison of a narrow empiricism
to find in the allotments of justice here evidence enough to show that
there is a just God, and thus to warrant the presumption, if not to justify
the full belief, that there is a future life and a completion there of a sys
tem begun here, but not carried to completion. It is true that Butler's
arguments in the Analogy are aimed at Deism, and not at Atheism, or
408 APPENDIX
Scepticism as to the essentials of natural religion. But it is also true
that his arguments go farther and effect more than he directly intended.
This he himself sees and asserts. Whoever will candidly read his
chapters on Natural Government and Moral Government will find in
them evidence which points to the conclusion that there is a God, that
he is just, and that there is a probability of a continuance of the system
of rewards and punishments in a life beyond this.
Any one who saw the Cologne Cathedral as it was fifty years ago, half
built and with a crane in the unfinished tower, would have had no doubt
as to the plan of the structure or the design that had existed to realize
it, sooner or later. What would have been said of an onlooker who
should have denied that there was any evidence of a thought or an
intention in the contriver of the edifice to do anything more than could
then and there be seen?
NOTE 12 (p. 231)
The use of the "we1' begins with Paul's leaving Troas (xvi. 11), and
continues in the account of his stay at Philippi. It is resumed on the
return of Paul to Philippi (xx. 5-15), thus raising the presumption that
the author of these passages had in the interval tarried at that place.
The remaining passages in which this peculiarity appears are xxi. 1-18,
xxvii. i-xxviii. 17. Now, what is the explanation of this phenomenon?
Only two hypotheses are open to discussion among those who accept
the ecclesiastical tradition and ascribe the book to Luke. The first
is the ancient and ordinary view that Luke was himself, in these places,
the attendant of Paul. The second is the hypothesis of Schleiermacher,
variously modified by other writers, that Luke here introduces, without
formal notice, a document emanating, as they commonly suppose, from
Timothy, or, as some have thought, from Silas, and others from Titus.
The second form of the hypothesis, that Silas wrote the passages in
question, is supported by no argument worthy of attention, and is fully
refuted by the circumstance that, in connection with at least one of the
passages (see Acts xvi. 19-25), Silas is mentioned in the third person.
But the theory that Timothy is the author of these passages, although
it was adopted by so able and candid a writer as Bleek, has been, as
we believe, effectually disproved.1 This theory does not, to be sure,
militate against the general credibility of the book, or the fact of its
being composed by Luke. But how stands the evidence in regard to
it? We read (in Acts xx. 4, 5) : "And there accompanied him [Paul]
into Asia, Sopater of Berea ; and of the Thessalonians, Aristarchus and
Secundus ; and Gaius of Derbe, and Timotheus ; and of Asia, Tychicus
and Trophimus. These going before tarried for us at Troas.1' If,
1 The examination of the "Timothy-hypothesis" by Lekebusch (s. 140-
167) is one of the finest parts of his excellent treatise.
APPENDIX 409
under the term " these/' all who are named before are referred to, —
which is the most natural interpretation,1 — the so-called Timothy-
hypothesis falls to the ground. In connection with this piece of evi
dence, it deserves remark that the absence of all detail — the summary
style of the narrative — in passages directly connected with those under
consideration, and covering a portion of Paul's career in which Timothy
bore an equal part, is against the supposition that Luke had at his com
mand a diary of this apostolic helper. The opinion that Titus wrote
the passages in question lacks definite support. Against it is the cir
cumstance that there is no mention of Titus in the epistles of Paul
written during his first imprisonment, whereas the author of these
passages accompanied the apostle to Rome. The decisive argument
against each of these several hypotheses is the misconception of the
general structure and character of the book which they imply. Were
it true that the book presents the appearance of being a compilation of
documents imperfectly fused or combined, — left in a good degree in
their original state, — it might not unreasonably be assumed that the
author had taken up a document from another's pen, leaving in it the
pronominal feature which we are discussing. This idea of the book
was a part of Schleiermacher's theory. But a more thorough exami
nation of the Acts has made it clear that, from whatever sources the
author draws his information, it is one production, coherent in plan,
its different parts connected by references forward and backward, and
flowing from a single pen. If Luke here took up into his work a docu
ment from another hand, he could not have given it the harmony with
his own style which it exhibits, without remoulding its form and phrase
ology to such an extent as renders it impossible to suppose the retention
of the "we" to be artless or accidental. Memoranda from another
source, if Luke had such, were rewritten by liiin ; but this leaves the
retaining of the "we," with no explanation, an insoluble fact. We
infer, then, with confidence, that Luke, in these passages, professes to
speak in his own person.'2 This fact Zeller and other acute Tubingen
critics admitted ; and their conclusion was, that whilst the author of
the Acts, whom they conceived of as writing in the second century,
used a previously written document, he intentionally left the " we " as
it stood, --although the document in other parts was materially wrought
over by him, — in order to produce the false impression that he was the
contemporary and associate of Paul. This refined fraud is attributed,
1 See Meyer, ad loc.
2 There remains, to be sure, the question why Luke does not expressly state
the fact of his joining Paul, but leaves it to be gathered from this use of the
pronoun. But this book was written for a private individual. Of the circum
stances of Luke's companionship with Paul, Theophilus may have known
something before.
410 APPENDIX
and it is thought necessary to attribute, to the author of the Acts. But
if we are not prepared to sanction this imputation, the reasonable
alternative is to accept the testimony of the author concerning himself ;
that is, to ascribe his work to a contemporary and companion of the
apostle Paul.
It is true that in both of his writings, Luke was instructed in part by
written sources as well as by verbal communications. An instance of
the former is the opening chapters of the Gospel, which relate to the
birth and childhood of Jesus, and contain traces of the Hebraic diction
of a document used in their composition. But the author of these
books affords abundant evidence of his capacity as a writer. The dedi
cation which forms the prologue of the Gospel is marked by an ele
gance in its structure and phraseology which has elicited the admiration
of classical scholars who are most competent judges of its linguistic
merit. The " we "" passages in the Acts are by the same author. This
fact excludes the theory that they are carelessly taken up from another
source in the way which this supposition implies.
NOTE 13 (p. 252)
A. Resch, Aussercanonische Paralleltexte zu den Evang., Heft 4;
Paralleltexte zu Johannes (1896), pp. 2-4. Resch points out, as he
thinks, in the liturgy, in the Didache (in cc. ix. x.), not less than
seventeen allusions to John's Gospel. When these are sifted by a
severe criticism there remain proofs not easily to be set aside in the
style of the liturgy, and in a number of allusions in it to be connected
with the gospel rather than with a tradition. The conclusion of Resch
is that the gospel must have contained in itself before the end of the
first century the substratum of the earliest liturgical product of primitive
Christianity (p. 4).
Resch considers that the earliest reference to the gospel, the name of
John being used, is given in the Coptic-Gnostic work, codex Bruce (ed.
Schmidt), A.D. 160 (Resch, p. 24). The list of references which Resch
finds in Justin contains, when strictly but fairly revised, much material
to be approved. But it is needless at present to argue for the use of
John by Justin. It is conceded. The time has gone by when, to use
the words of Professor J. H. Thayer, one of "the framers of hypotheses "
was "driven to say that the doctrine of John was borrowed from Justin.
Sydney Smith . . . had a rural neighbor who was persuaded that the
hundred and fourth Psalm was a plagiarism upon a devotional compo
sition of his own." — The Biblical World, vol. xix., No. 4, April, 1902,
p. 254.
NOTE 14 (p. 254)
After explaining that the accounts which constituted the materials at
the basis of the first three Gospels did not originate in any design
APPENDIX 41 1
to give a connected account of the life or the public ministry of Christ
as a whole, Neander proceeds as follows: "John's Gospel, the only
consecutive account of the ministry of Christ, could have proceeded
from none other than the beloved disciple on whose soul the image of
Christ had made the deepest impress. It could not have emanated from
the soul of any man of the second century. We cannot even imagine
any man of that century so little affected by the controversies (Gegen-
sa'tze), and so far exalted above them. Not in an age when everything
was broken up into antagonisms, from which not even the attempts at
mediation could escape, was it possible for such a product to arise, which
bears in it no trace either of the stamp of the religious materialism or
anthropomorphism or the one-sided intellectualism which characterized
that period. How mighty the man must have been in relation to a time
so far beneath him who could bring forth from his own mind such an im
age of Christ ! And this man, too, in a time which had so few superior
minds, remained in the deepest obscurity ! Such an one, who was com
petent and must have felt himself called to accomplish the highest
achievement of his time if he had come out openly and unmasked, must
make use of so pitiful an artifice in order to smuggle in his ideas! . . .
Strange that a man who wanted to secure faith in his inventions should,
in the chronology and topography of the life of Christ, give the lie to
the universal tradition of the church of his time instead of conforming
to it!1'1
NOTE 15 (p. 269)
The suggestion of Haupt relative to the occasional grouping by the
fourth Evangelist, of kindred sayings of Jesus on different occasions,
after the manner of Matthew, deserves much more attention than it has
received from those who think that they find instances of a broken con
nection in the Evangelist's reports. If such a disconnection could be
shown, this would be a not improbable solution of the difficulty. This
is favored in the essay by Rev. N. L. Wild in the Contentio Veritatis,
on "The Teaching of Christ" (pp. 105-167). After saying that the
fourth Evangelist has made a careful choice among the facts of a wide
tradition, he adds : " There would seem to be everywhere a conscious
grouping of the sayings according to subject-matter rather than to cir
cumstance. The fragmentary and occasional utterances have been
fused by memory and reflection with the long discourse," etc. (p. 156).
This hypothesis is here carried much farther than it is applied by Haupt.
One of the ablest of modern theologians, Rothe, conceived that his
own mode of conceiving of the Trinity had support from a supposed
lack of harmony between the expressions of Jesus respecting his unity
with God, recorded in John's Gospel, and certain expressions of the
Evangelist himself on the same subject. As bold in speculation as he
was devout in faith and piety, Rothe broached the opinion that the con-
1 Leben Jesu (ed. 5), p. 10, Engl. transl. of ed. 4, p. 6 (revised).
412 APPENDIX
ception of a preexistent divine hypostasis was an idea of the apostle
John, and also of the apostle Paul, and the author of the Epistle to the
Hebrews, which was suggested to them in a current widespread Jewish
theological conception, and secured to them a natural solution of the
mystery of the unity of divinity and humanity in Jesus, in which they
fervently believed!1 It is obvious that theories like these referred to
above have no claim to credence unless the exegetical premises on
which they rest are fully verified.
NOTE 16 (p. 272)
" Peter," the name attached, from its significance, to the disciple
" Simon," is the name by which, more and more, Simon came to be
designated in the churches as we see from the New Testament writings.
St. Paul (as in Gal. ii.) speaks of him as " Peter," using also its Hebrew
equivalent, " Cephas." If there is truth in the suggestion that the phrase,
" whom Jesus loved," is probably the rendering of a single Aramaic
word, signifying " beloved " or something equivalent, and was applied
by Jesus to John, and became a more or less usual designation of the
apostle, the use of it in the fourth Gospel would have an additional
explanation.
NOTE 17 (p. 280)
See, in John ii. 12, Dr. Dwight's note in the translation of Godet's
Commentary. The passage in John reads, "After this he [Jesus]
went down to Capernaum, he and his mother, and his brother, and his
disciples ; and there they abode not many days." The bare fact of this
visit is stated with no assigning of a motive for it, or of anything that
occurred. To make anything out of this statement but a historical recol
lection is a desperate undertaking.
NOTE 1 8 (p. 289)
A learned and fair-minded scholar wrote thus, in the closing period of
his life, in a letter : " On the genuineness of John my opinion remains
unchanged. Many of the embarrassments I think (are greatly aggra
vated by) misconception as to the nature of the gospels in general, and
of that one in particular, and the consequent application to it of false
historical requirements which it was not intended to meet." — Professor
J. Henry Thayer, in The Biblical World, vol. xix., No. 4, April, 1902.
NOTE 19 (p. 305)
Yet the tradition underlying the synoptic Gospels is inadequate to
account for the fulness with which the teaching of Christ's divinity was
1 Rothe's exposition of his theory is presented at length in his Dogmatik,
Th. i., especially on pp. 106 seq.
APPENDIX 413
developed in the apostolic church. The words of Weizsacker (in 1864)
are still worth citing : " The strong apostolic faith which has assured to
Christianity its permanent existence in the world can be explained
only on the assumption that the life of Jesus stood on such a lofty plane
as the fourth Gospel permits us to discern. We have every reason to
suppose that this derivation of the belief in the higher nature of Jesus,
from his own words and deeds, sprang from a historical conviction of
the writer himself. For this delineation of Jesus exactly corresponds to
the mighty effect produced by the whole personality, and is necessary
in order to explain how the faith in this person so soon became the
essence of Christianity."1 — American Journal of Theology, vol. ii.,
No. i, January,
" Although the first three gospels contain no explicit assertion of the
doctrine, the personage they portray forbids his classification with ordi
nary men, and leaves so unique and exalted a conception of his relation
to the Father, that the explicit declarations of the fourth Gospel awaken
no surprise in the ordinary reader. In fact, the old assertion of the
critics, that the fourth Gospel presents a very different personage from
the Messiah of the first three, is now, I believe, generally abandoned."
— Letter of Professor J. Henry Thayer, Biblical World, vol. xix., No. 4,
April, 1902.
NOTE 20 (p. 320)
The school of which Strauss was the most prominent representative
supported their destructive criticism by sophistical reasoning. The aim
was to convict the Gospels of inconsistency and contradiction to such
an extent as to make them untrustworthy, and to render the life of Jesus,
beyond the most general outlines, utterly obscure and uncertain. One
of the Evangelists was used to disprove the statement of another ; and
the second, in turn, was impeached on the authority of the first. The
first Life of Christ by Strauss, his principal work, is full of examples of
this circular reasoning. But, besides this transparent vice of logic, in
the treatment of the details of the history, there was a flagitious disre
gard of the sound and acknowledged principles of historical criticism.
Variations, however innocent, were magnified into an irreconcilable dis
cordance. Peculiarities in the narratives, such as occur in the most
authentic historical writers, were imputed by Baur and his followers to
contrivance. At the present time, the ascription of discreditable motives
to the New Testament historians is decidedly less common. But falla
cious reasoning from diversities in their narrations is far from being
unusual. All who pursue historical studies, all who take notice of tes
timony in courts, or even of ordinary conversation, know rtow many
occasions there are for varying the form of a narrative, besides a want
1 Untersuckung, pp. 287 scq.
APPENDIX
of knowledge, or of honesty in the narrator. The desire of brevity
leads to the modification of the features of a transaction in the report
of it. To give prominence to one element, or aspect, of the story, the
order of circumstances may be changed. For the sake of making an
event intelligible to a particular person, or class, or to give graphic force
to the account of it, something may have to be added or subtracted.
Thus a diversity of form may be produced, which yet involves no error.
An unknown circumstance may be the missing link which unites testi
mony that is apparently discordant. The justice of these remarks, and
the fallacy of the method of criticism referred to, are best illustrated by
examples drawn from ordinary history. As one instance, we may refer
to two passages, in the last volume of President John Adams's Letters,
which were written with an interval of little more than a year between
them : —
(A) To William Tudor (B) To H. Niles
QUINCY, 5 June, 1817. QUINCY, 14 June, 1818.
Mr. Otis, soon after my earliest ac- After my return from Europe, I
quaintance with him, lent me a sum- asked his daughter whether she had
mary of Greek Prosody, of his own found among her father's manuscripts
collection and composition, a work of a treatise on Greek Prosody. With
profound learning and great labor. I hands and eyes uplifted, in a paroxysm
had it six months in my possession be- of grief, she cried, " Oh ! sir, I have
fore I returned it. Since my return not aline from my father's pen. I have
from Europe, I asked his daughter not even his name in his own hand-
whether she had found that work among writing." When she was a little calmed,
her father'smanuscripts. Sheanswered I asked her, "Who has his papers?
with a countenance of woe that you may where are they?" She answered,
more easily imagine that I can describe, " They are no more. In one of those
that "she had not a line from her unhappy dispositions of mind which
father's pen; that he had spent much distressed him after his great misfor-
time, and taken great pains to collect tune, and a little before his death, he
together all his letters and other papers, collected all his papers and pamphlets,
and in one of his unhappy moments, and committed them to the flames,
committed them all to the flames." I He was several days employed in it."
have used her own expressions.
Suppose that these two narratives, instead of being from the pen of a
modern writer, had been found in the Gospels by a critic of a familiar
type, the first of them being in one Evangelist, and the second in another.
What a field for suspicion ! What confident hypotheses should we have
for the explanation of the phenomena in question ! We should be told
that document B is a product of exaggeration, founded on the simple
story in A. The "countenance of woe," in A, is turned into "eyes
uplifted" and a "paroxysm of grief," in B. The reply of the daughter
is broken up into separate parts for " dramatic effect." The circum
stance that "pamphlets" as well as "letters" and "papers" are men-
APPENDIX 415
tioned among the things destroyed, is an addition from the fancy of the
second writer, or is an accretion in " \\izsecond evangelical tradition." The
general view as to the relation of the two documents is confirmed be
yond a question by the fact that the destruction of the papers is said in
A to have been accomplished in " one of his unhappy moments," while
B makes it the work of "several days." A makes the collection of
these materials for the flames occupy a prolonged period ; B thinks that
the impression would be more startling to represent the conflagration
itself as long in duration. But why does B omit the statement that the
book of Prosody had been " six months " in the hands of the writer
at a previous time ? Obviously, because the disappointment at its de
struction would be softened by the circumstance that Mr. Adams had
already perused the work ; and this would clash with the intention of
the writer of B, who will paint the calamity in the liveliest colors. We
appeal to any one who is conversant with modern critical works upon
the Gospels, if this representation is not a fair parody of the procedure
of many of them in their handling of these writings. And these con
clusions are often announced with the assurance proper to mathematical
certainty. As it happens, in the present case, we know that both docu
ments are from one hand, the hand of a writer of scrupulous veracity.
The same fact is narrated in the one briefly, in the other more in detail.
Both, considering the compass of each, and the end for which they
were written, are accurate. When, in the first letter, Mr. Adams says
that he has " used her own expressions," he does not mean to be under
stood as giving everything that she said, or the precise order in which
her answers were spoken.
There is a familiar story of the way in which Sir Walter Raleigh is
said to have been impressed with the uncertainty of historic narratives.
This feeling was inspired by the contradictory accounts which he heard
from eye-witnesses of a fracas which he had himself seen from his win
dow in the Tower. The difficulty of getting at the exact truth as to
minor circumstances was naturally inferred. Whether the story be true
or not, there is likewise another important custom that may be sug
gested by it to the historical student. Seemingly discordant details
may spring from the varying perspective of different reporters, the effect
of which the reader or hearer is often not competent to weigh.
Let the reader take up any important event in ancient or modern
history, which has been described by several writers, even in cases when
they were eye-witnesses, and not unobservant or dishonest, and he will
find variations in matters of detail, which, to a great extent at least,
might disappear, were the whole transaction presented to our view, and
which, in any event, do not affect the substance of the narrative.
The death of Cicero is described by Plutarch and Appian, and is no
ticed also by Dion Cassius, Livy, and others. We set in parallel columns
the two principal accounts : —
416
APPENDIX
Plutarch, Vila Ciceronis
But in the meantime the assassins
were come with a band of soldiers,
Herennius a centurion, and Popilius
[Laenas] a tribune whom Cicero had
formerly defended when prosecuted
for the murder of his father. Find
ing the doors shut, they broke them
open, and Cicero not appearing, and
those within saying they knew not
where he was, it is stated that a youth,
who had been educated by Cicero in
the liberal arts and sciences, an eman
cipated slave of his brother Quintus,
Philologus by name, informed the
tribune that the litter was on its way
to the sea through the close and
shady walks. The tribune, taking a
few with him, ran to the place where
he was to come out. And Cicero,
perceiving Herennius running in the
walks, commanded his servants to set
down the litter; and stroking his chin,
as he used to do, with his left hand,
he looked steadfastly upon his mur
derers, his person covered with dust,
his beard and hair untrimmed, and
his face worn with troubles. So that
the greatest part of those that stood
by covered their faces whilst Heren
nius slew him. And thus was he
murdered, stretching forth his neck
out of the litter, being now in his
sixty-fourth year. Herennius cut off
his head, and, by Antony's command,
his hands also, by which the Philippics
were written; for so Cicero styled
those orations he wrote against An
tony, and so they are called to this day.
It will be observed that Plutarch states that it was a freedman of
Quintus, named Philologus, who told the pursuers of Cicero what path
he had taken. Appian, on the other hand, says that it was a shoemaker,
a client of Claudius. Plutarch (with whom Livy agrees) says that
Cicero stretched his head out of the litter; Appian says that Laenas
pulled it out. Plutarch says that Herennius cut off the head; Appian
that it was clone by Laenas. awkwardly, in three blows — by sawing rather
than cutting. Plutarch says that his hands were cut off, and Livy that
Appian, de Bellis Civ. IV. xix. xx
While now many people ran about
here and there, inquiring if Cicero
had been seen anywhere, and some,
out of good-will and compassion for
him, said : " He has already sailed
and is out upon the sea," a shoemaker,
a client of Clodius, the most bitter
enemy of Cicero, pointed out the right
way to Laenas, the centurion, who had
a few soldiers with him. Laenas hur
ried after, and, at the sight of the
servants, whom he saw to be of a
greater number than his following,
and prepared for resistance, made use
of a soldier's stratagem, and called
out : Centurions who are behind,
hasten forward ! By this means the
servants, under the idea that more
were coming, were struck with a panic
(/caTa7rAd7?7(raj'). And Laenas, al
though he had once gained a cause
by the aid of Cicero, dragging his
head out of the litter severed it from
the body, or rather, from want of
skill, sawed it off, since he struck the
neck three times. At the same time
he cut off the hand with which Cicero
had written those speeches against
Antony as a tyrant, to which, after the
example of Demosthenes, he gave the
name of Philippics.
APPENDIX
417
the head was fastened to the rostrum between the two hands. Appian's
statement is, that the hand was cut off which had written the Philippics,
— that is, the right hand. Appian states that the servants of Cicero
were dismayed by the shout of Laenas, which implied the presence of a
strong force near. But Plutarch informs us that Cicero directed the
litter to be set down ; and Livy adds to this that he commanded the
bearers of it to make no resistance.1 Dion states not only that it was
Lasnas who cut off the head, but that he kept the skull near to a gar
landed image of himself, in order that he might have the credit of the
deed.2
That memorable scene in English history when Oliver Cromwell dis
persed the Long Parliament, and locked the door, has been described
by Whitelocke, Algernon Sidney, and Ludlow, the two former of whom
were present, and the last, who was in Ireland, derived his information
from eye-witnesses. There are various points of difference in these
three narrations. For instance, Whitelocke says that Cromwell led a
file of musketeers in with him, leaving the rest at the door and in the
lobby. Ludlow says nothing of the introduction of the soldiers into the
room where the house was sitting, until they were summoned in by
Cromwell's order. Whitelocke says that Col. Harrison rose and took
the speaker by the arm ; Ludlow that he put his hand within the
speaker's hand, and in this way assisted him out of the chair. These
and other differences are enough to furnish a hostile critic with the
means for a plausible attack upon the credibility, if not of the main
event, of the leading circumstances attending the event. Yet, whoever
will recur to Mr. Carlyle's or Mr. John Forster's description, will see
that we are driven to no such unsatisfactory conclusion.
Nothing can be more unwarrantable and fallacious than to raise
doubts respecting a whole transaction on account of real or seeming
discrepancies that relate to a single feature of it. It is a controverted
question who commanded the American forces at Bunker Hill. Some
have said that it was Prescott, others have said that it was Putnam.
Whatever the truth may be, whether it was the one, or the other, or
neither, or both, this discrepancy in contemporary or later accounts
proves nothing against the reality of that occurrence which we call
the Battle of Bunker Hill. The preliminaries and main events of that
engagement have been correctly reported. The difference in the
writers as to who was the commander may, perhaps, be adjusted,
without the ascription of an actual error to any of the authorities on
which we depend for our knowledge of the event. Yet diversities
of no more significance have often been made a pretext for impeaching
1 " Satis constat . . . ipsum dcponi lecticam et quietos pati quod furs iniqua
cogeret jussisse." Fragment, ad lib. cxx , ap. Seneca, Suasoria, vii.
2 Hist., xlvii. 10.
2 E
41 8 APPENDIX
the trustworthiness of the Gospel historians, and denying the reality
of the various transactions which they record.
There is thus a proper sphere for the Harmonist. A consecutive
narrative, and one as complete as the materials at our command
render it possible to construct, of the life of Jesus must be founded on
a comparison of the four Gospels ; just as a history of the Apostolic
Age must rest upon the foundation of the book of Acts and the
Epistles studied in connection with it. The prejudice against the
Harmonists as a class, which prevails widely and is shared by not
a few scholars who have no disposition to reject the supernatural
elements of the evangelical history, has its origin in extravagances
of Harmonistic writers. An extravagant conception of the nature and
extent of inspiration as related to the historical writings of the New
Testament has characterized this school. The inspiration of the
Evangelists, instead of having its effect in an elevation of mind and in
spiritual insight, has been thought to secure an impeccability of memory,
— to operate, like the demon of Socrates, in a negative way, and by
holding them back from the slightest inaccuracy, to furnish a guaranty
for the absolute correctness of all the minutiae of the narrative. This
perfection of memory and judgment — which, as Dr. Arnold said, would
imply the transference of divine attributes to men — has been con
sidered an attribute of the apostolic office. As three out of the five
histories in the New Testament were not written by apostles, it has
been assumed that the relation of Mark to Peter, and of Luke to Paul,
secures an apostolic authority to these non-apostolic Evangelists.
That the second and third Gospels, and the Acts, were ever submitted
to apostles for their revision and sanction is a proposition which no
enlightened scholar would venture to affirm. We find that Luke, in
the prologue of the Gospel, does not assume to write, as Councils of
the Church have sometimes done, Sancto Spiritu dictante ; but he
invites confidence on the ground of his means of getting knowledge
and his diligent investigations. Some of the evangelical historians,
Luke certainly, make use of prior documents, written memoranda
from other sources. The apostles themselves claimed credence for
the story which they told, on the ground that they were telling what
they had seen and heard. The number of the Twelve, after the defection
of Judas, was filled up by the choice of Matthias, in order that another
witness, a companion of Christ, who had heard his teaching and seen
his works, might be provided (Acts i. 21, 22). We find that the
apostles limit their testimony to the period of their personal acquaint
ance with Christ ; the first thirty years of his life — with the exception
of a few incidents relating to his infancy and boyhood which were
gathered up from oral sources — being passed over in silence. The
laws that determine the credibility of history are respected in the
composition of the sacred books. Contemporary evidence is furnished.
APPENDIX 419
The departures from this practice are the exceptions that prove the
rule.
The effect of the rigid Harmonistic assumption, when applied in the
concrete, is to lead to a mechanical combination of two or more
relations, where a sound historical criticism would make a choice
among diverse, and commonly unimportant, particulars, or rectify in
such points the statement of one Evangelist by the apparently fuller
information of another. Thus in the accounts of the denials of Peter,
there is not a precise accordance as to localities. With regard to the
second denial, Mark says that the same maid (fj TratSi'cr^) put the
question to which he responded; Matthew says, "another maid";
while Luke makes it "another man" (erepos — sc. avOpanros, ver. 58).
This is a trifling divergence. It is a case where a narrator might not
wish to be held responsible for a strictly accurate statement. But
the older Harmonists, who conceived that the Evangelists must have
written with the precision of a notary public, felt it necessary to avoid
these variations by assuming that Peter's denials reached the number
of nine or ten ; although as to the main fact that they were three
in number — by which it is meant that there were no more as well
as no less than three — the Evangelists are united ; and such was
unquestionably the real number. Out of a dread to admit the slightest
inaccuracies in the Gospels, the Harmonists convert the evangelical
history into a grotesque piece of mosaic.
It may serve to illustrate both the mistaken and the true method of
historical criticism as applied to the Gospels, if attention is called to a
few passages where two or more of the Evangelists are compared with
each other. Look, first, at the Sermon on the Mount. We pass by
questions as to its chronological place. Luke makes it to have been
delivered after Christ descended from the Mount to the plain, with his
disciples. On this point a reconciliation, if one seeks it, is not impos
sible ; yet the question arises at once whether Luke does not follow a
different tradition from that which is presented in Matthew. Compara
tively few scholars question the fact that Matthew connects with the
Sermon on the Mount utterances of Christ on other occasions. This
we should be led to infer from an inspection of parallel passages which
occur in other connections in Luke. The Lord's Prayer is an example.1
The difference in the text of the Beatitudes in the two Gospels shows
1 Matt. vi. 5 seq, ; Luke xi. I seq. According to Luke, Jesus was praying
in a certain place, and was requested by one of the disciples to teach them
how to pray. That in Matthew other discourses are connected with the
Sermon on the Mount, Calvin had the acuteness to perceive. He says,
" Sufficere enim pits et modestis lectoribus debet, quod hie ante oculos positam
habeant sununam doctrines Christi collectam ex pluribus et diversis concion-
ibus qiiaruni h<zc prinia fuit, ubi de beatitudine disseruit apud discipulos." —
Opera (Amst. ed.), vi. 64.
420
APPENDIX
a diversity in the oral or written tradition that was followed. An in
stance of slight circumstantial variation is in the accounts of a miracle
of Jesus at the gate of Jericho.1 Matthew speaks of two blind men ;
Mark and Luke of one. It is quite possible that there were two, though
the conversation of Jesus may have been with only one of them. But
Matthew and Mark say distinctly that it was when Christ was leaving
the city, while Luke says that it was when he drew nigh to the city.
Afterward he passed through the city. Blind men, and mendicants
of all sorts, took their station at the gates of cities. In the tradition
which came to Luke, the miracle was placed at the gate by which Jesus
entered ; in the tradition which appears in the other Evangelists, it was
the gate by which he left. The discrepancy shows that there was no
collusion between the Evangelical historians. As in other like cases,
it confirms, rather than weakens, Christianity evidences.
The discrepancy in the record of the words spoken from heaven at
the baptism of Jesus has many parallels in the Gospel histories. A
familiar instance is that of the inscription on the cross : —
Matt, xxvii. 37
And they set up
over his head his
accusation written,
THIS IS JESUS THE
KING OF THE JEWS.
Mark xv. 26
And the super
scription of his accu
sation was written
Over, THE KING OF
THE JEWS.
Luke xxiii. 38
And there was
also a superscription
over him, THIS is
THE KING OF THE
JEWS.
John xix. 19
And Pilate wrote a
title also, and put it on
the cross. And there
was written, JESUS
OF NAZARETH, THE
KING OF THE JEWS.
In the Authorized Version, Luke is made to say that the superscription
was " in letters of Greek and Latin and Hebrew.1' These words, which
were probably inserted in the text of Luke from John's Gospel, are left
out in the Revised Version. The variations in the form of the inscrip
tion are seen at a glance. They point to different sources of informa
tion. One harmonistic suggestion is that the inscription was not the
same in the three languages. This of course is possible, but not probable.
Another familiar example of discrepancies, trifling in their nature, is
in the accounts of the sending out of the Twelve : —
Matt. x. 9, 10
Mark vi. 8
And he charged them that
Get you no gold, nor
silver, nor brass in your
purses; (10) no wallet for
your journey, neither two
coats, nor shoes, nor staff:
for the labourer is worthy purse; but to go shod with
Luke ix. 3
And he said unto them,
nothing Take nothing for your jour-
save a ney, neither staff, nor wal-
they should take
for their journey,
staff only ; no bread, no let, nor bread, nor money ;
wallet, no money in their neither have two coats.
of his food.
sandals; and, said he, put
not on two coats.
Mark describes the disciples as going forth with nothing in their hands
but a pilgrim's staff. In Matthew and Luke they are to take not even
a staff. The idea in all is that they are to go out unprovided, and to
depend wholly on charity.
1 Matt. xx. 29-34; Luke xviii. 35-43, xix. I; Mark x. 46-52,
APPENDIX 421
NOTE 21 (p. 203)
THE MIRACLES OF THE GOSPEL IN CONTRAST WITH HEATHEN AND
ECCLESIASTICAL MIRACLES l
It is frequently alleged that the evidence for pagan and ecclesiastical
miracles, which fill so large a space in chronicles of a former day, but
which are generally fictitious, is as strong as that for the miracles
recorded in the Gospels. What is to be said of the ecclesiastical mira
cles is, in the main, applicable to miraculous tales found in ancient
heathen writers, from Herodotus to Livy, and from Livy to the fall of
the ancient Graeco-Roman religion. To the stream of Church miracles,
then, which flows down from the early centuries, through the middle
ages, almost or quite to our own time, we may confine our attention.
Is the proof of these alleged miracles equal in force to that of the mira
cles recorded by the Evangelists ? So far from this being the case,
there are certain broad marks of distinction by which these last are
separated from the general current of miraculous narrative.
i . One direct, although not the exclusive, purpose of the Gospel mira
cles is to attest the fact of revelation. They are the proper counterpart
and proof of revelation. They occur, with few exceptions, only at the
marked epochs in the progress of revelation, — the Mosaic era, the
reform and advance of the Old Testament religion under the great
prophets, and in connection with the ministry of Christ and the found
ing of the Church. " We know,1' it was said, " that thou art a teacher
come from God ; for no man can do these miracles that thou doest,
except God be with him " (John iii. 2).
On the contrary, ecclesiastical miracles profess to be for a lower, and,
in general, for a signally lower end. At the best, they are to aid the
preaching of a missionary. The biblical miracles were requisite as a
part and proof of revelation. When they have once taken place, testi
mony adequate is all that can reasonably be demanded as a ground of
belief in them. There is no call for a perpetual interruption of the
course of nature. Even the Roman Catholic Church holds that the
whole deposit of revelation was with Christ and the apostles. The
dogmatic decisions of popes and councils are the exposition of that
primitive doctrine. Their function is not to originate, but to define,
Christian truth.
But, in a vast majority of instances, the ecclesiastical miracles are for
some end below that of serving as the credentials of a missionary. At
the best, they are to relieve the distress of an individual, without the
ulterior and more comprehensive end which attaches to the miracles
1 Among the valuable discussions of this subject are Douglas's Criterion,
Newman's Two Essays (4th ed., 1875), and Mozley's Hampton Lectures.
422 APPENDIX
wrought by Jesus and the apostles. In a multitude of instances they
simply minister to an appetite for marvels. Witness the wonders that
crowd the pages of the apocryphal Gospels. Many are for objects
extremely trivial. Fantastic wonders are ascribed to Jesus as having
been wrought in his childhood. Tertullian gives an account of a vision
in which an angel prescribed to a female the size and length of her veil.
Some, like the Jansenist miracles at the tomb of Abbe Paris, which
Hume cites as modern examples of miracles supported by testimony,
are in the cause of a political or religious party, and against an antago
nistic faction. Very frequently miracles are valued, and said to be
wrought, merely as verifications of the sanctity of a person of high
repute for piety.
The distinction which we are here considering is important. No
doubt there is an antecedent presumption against the occurrence of
miracles, which arises from our belief in the uniformity of nature and
the conviction we have that an established order is beneficent. This
presumption Christians believe to be neutralized by the need of revela
tion, and by the peculiar characteristics of the Christian system and
of its author. But in proportion as the end assigned to miracles is
lower, that adverse presumption retains force.
2. The Gospel miracles were not wrought in coincidence with a
prevailing system, and for the furtherance of it, but in connection with
teaching hostile to prevalent beliefs.
This is another striking difference. Jesus won all of his disciples
to faith in him. They did not inherit this faith : they did not grow up
in it. He and they alike had to confront opposition at every step.
" The world/' he said, " hateth me." His doctrines and his idea of the
kingdom of God clashed with Judaic opinion and rooted prejudice.
Christianity had to push forward in the face of the enmity of all
the existing forms of religion. But how is it with the ecclesiastical
miracles of later ages? Generally speaking, they occurred, if wrought
at all, in the midst of communities and smaller circles of devotees
which were already in fervent sympathy with the cause and the creed
in behalf of which they were supposed to be performed. The narrations
of them sprang up among those who were, beforehand, full of con
fidence in the Church as the possessor of miraculous power, and in
the close relation to God of the individuals to whom such miracles
were ascribed. Not as in the days of Jesus and the apostles were
these denounced and proscribed by the ecclesiastical rulers and leaders.
Recollecting what occurred at the origin of the Church, full of faith in
the supernatural powers which were thought still to reside in it, men
were on the lookout for startling manifestations of them. There was
a previous habit of credulity in this particular direction. The same
scepticism which is deemed reasonable in respect to stories of miracles
performed by Dominicans or Franciscans, where the rival interests
APPENDIX 423
of the two orders are involved, is natural in regard to wonders said to
have been wrought in behalf of a creed enthusiastically cherished. In
Galilee, Judea, and the various provinces of the Roman Empire,
Christianity was a new religion. It was at the start an unpopular
religion, in a struggle against widespread, bitter prejudice. The
whole atmosphere was thus totally different from that which prevailed
in the middle ages, or even in the Roman Empire, after the Gospel had
succeeded in gaining hundreds of thousands of converts.
3. Motives to fraud, which justly excite suspicion in the case of many
of the ecclesiastical miracles, did not exist in the case of the miracles
of the Gospel.
It cannot be denied that pious fraud played a prominent part in
producing the tales of the supernatural which are interspersed in the
biographies of the saints. Ecclesiastical superiors have often given
a free rein to popular credulity, on the maxim that the end sanctifies
the means. Where positive trickery has not been practised, circum
stances have been concealed, which, if known, would have stripped
many a transaction of the miraculous aspect which it wore in the eyes
of the ignorant. The same spirit that gave rise to the medieval
forgeries, of which the Pseudo-Isidorian decretals are a conspicuous
example, was capable of conniving at numberless deceits which served
to bolster up sacerdotal pretensions. In order that an individual may
be enrolled as a saint, and invoked in this character, it has been held
to be indispensable that he should have wrought miracles. Miracles
are held to be a badge of sainthood. It is easy to conceive, not only
what a stimulus this theory must have afforded to the devout imagina
tion, but also what conscious exaggeration and wilful invention must
have sprung out of such a tenet.
When we enter the company of Christ and the apostles, we find that
this incentive to the invention of miracles is utterly absent. We find,
rather, the deepest antipathy to every species of deceit and fraud.
4. A great number of the Roman Catholic miracles can be explained
by natural causes, without any impeachment of the honesty of the
narrators. Frequently, natural events of no uncommon occurrence are
viewed as supernatural. The physical effect of vigils, and fastings, and
pilgrimages, on the maladies of those who resorted to these practices,
was, no doubt, in many cases salutary. As the body acts on the mind,
so the mind powerfully affects the body. Heated imagination, ardent
faith, the confident hope of relief, may produce physical effects of an
extraordinary character. There is a variety of nervous disorders which
are cured by a sudden shock which turns feeling into a new channel.
Mohammed was a victim of hysteria attended by catalepsy. Especially
when medical knowledge was scanty, exceptional conditions of mind
and body were easily mistaken for supernatural phenomena.
If the miracles of the Gospels consisted only of visions, or of the
424 APPENDIX
cure of less aggravated cases of demoniacal possession, or of the healing
of a limited class of diseases which spring mainly from nervous derange
ment, there might be no occasion for referring them to supernatural
agency. But such miracles as healing, by a touch, of one born blind,
the cure of the lunatic at Gadara, the multiplication of the loaves, the
conversion of water into wine, the raising of the son of the widow of
Nain, and of Lazarus, the resurrection of Jesus himself, baffle attempts
at naturalistic solution. If miracles such as these are admitted on the
ground of the testimony to them, in connection with the exalted char
acter of Christ and with the doctrine of Christianity, it is alike unrea
sonable and profitless to resort to any naturalistic explanation of visions
and cures, some of which, considered by themselves, might perhaps be
accounted for by that method. A line of demarcation between two sets
of Gospel miracles is drawn without any historical warrant. If certain
of them do not of necessity carry us beyond the limit of known physio
logical and psychological causes, and if this boundary is not strictly
definable, others there are, equally well attested, which do undeniably
lie beyond this limit, and, if the phenomena are admitted, must be
referred to the interposition of God.
5. The incompetence of the witnesses to ecclesiastical miracles, as a
rule, is a decisive reason for discrediting their accounts. We do not
include under this head an intention to deceive. Reports of pagan and
ecclesiastical miracles frequently rest on no contemporary evidence. I"
was more than a century after the death of Apollonius of Tyana when
Philostratus wrote his life. Sixteen years after the death of Ignatius
Loyola, Ribadeneira wrote his biography At that time he knew of no
miracles performed by his hero. St. Francis Xavier himself makes but
one or two references to wonders wrought by him : and these occur
rences do not necessarily imply anything miraculous. In the case of
an ancient saint, Gregory Thaumaturgus, the life that we possess was
written long after his time by Gregory Nyssa. Boniface, the apostle to
the Germans, and Ansgar, the apostle to the Scandinavians, do not
themselves claim to be miracle-workers. It is others who make the
claim for them. Of the string of miracles which Bede furnishes, there
are few, if any, which he affirms to have occurred within his personal
knowledge.
Where there are contemporary narratives, it is evident, generally, that
the chroniclers are too deficient in the habit of accurate observation to
be trusted. This want of carefulness is manifest in what they have to
say of ordinary matters. Dr. Arnold gives an example of the inac
curacy of Bede.1 The Saxon chronicler describes a striking phenome
non on the southern coast of England in such a way that one who is
familiar with it would be quite unable to recognize it from this author's
1 Lectures on Modern History (Am. ed.), p. 128.
APPENDIX 425
description. Where the observation of natural objects is so careless,
how can we expect a correct account of phenomena which are taken for
miraculous? Excited feeling, on the watch for marvels, in minds not
in the least trained to strict observation, renders testimony to a great
extent worthless.
Now, who were the original witnesses of the miracles of Jesus? As
Cardinal Newman has said, " They were very far from a dull or ignorant
race. The inhabitants of a maritime and border country (as Galilee
was) ; engaged, moreover, in commerce ; composed of natives of vari
ous countries, and therefore, from the nature of the case, acquainted
with more than one language — have necessarily their intellects sharp
ened, and their minds considerably enlarged, and are of all men least
disposed to acquiesce in marvellous tales. Such a people must have
examined before they suffered themselves to be excited in the degree
which the Evangelists describe.1' Their conviction, be it observed, was
no u bare and indolent assent to facts which they might have thought
antecedently probable, or not improbable,'1 but a great change in prin
ciple and mode of life, and such a change as involved the sacrifice of
every earthly good. There is a vast difference between the dull assent
of superstitious minds, the impressions of unreflecting devotees, and
that positive faith which transformed the character of the first disciples,
and moved them to forsake their kindred, and to lay down their lives, in
attestation of the truth of their testimony. A conviction on the part
of such persons, and attended by consequences like these, must have had
its origin in an observation of facts about which there could be no
mistake.
6. The Gospel miracles, unlike the ecclesiastical, were none of them
merely tentative, unsuccessful, or of doubtful reality.
In ancient times the temple of ^Esculapius was thronged by persons
in quest of healing at the hands of the God. No one could pretend
that more than a fraction of these votaries were actually healed. Of
the multitude who failed of the benefit there was no mention or memory.
To come down to a later day, many thousands were annually touched
for the scrofula by the English kings. Some recovered; and their
recovery, no doubt, was blazoned abroad. But, of the generality of
those who thus received the royal touch, there is not the slightest proof
that it was followed by a recovery. So, elsewhere, among those to
whom miraculous power has been attributed, the instances of apparent
success were connected with uncounted failures of which no record is
preserved. Even in the cases where it is loudly claimed that there was
every appearance of miracles, as in certain of the wonders at the tomb
of the Abbe" Paris, it is found that some have been only partially relieved
of their maladies, or have experienced soon a recurrence of them.
Mark the contrast presented by the miracles of the Gospel. They
were performed by a definite class of persons. They were "the signs
426 APPENDIX
of an apostle." The main point, however, is that there were no excep
tions, none on whom the wonder-working power failed of its effect.
There were no abortive experiments. All whom Jesus attempted to
heal were healed. None went away as they came. None went away
with painful symptoms alleviated, while the disorders were not removed.
Had such instances of failure occurred, they would not have escaped
the attention of the apostles and of their enemies. Confidence in
Christ would have been weakened, if not subverted. In accounting
for the Gospel miracles, the supposition of accident is thus precluded.
We do not reason from occasional coincidences.
7. The grotesque character of so large a number of the ecclesiastical
miracles awakens a just presumption against them as a class.
A miracle emanates from the power of God. But it will not be, for
that reason, at variance with his other attributes. As far as an alleged
miracle appears to be unworthy of God in any particular, its title to be
credited is weakened.
The miracles in the apocryphal Gospels (such as that of the throne
of Herod, drawn out to its right length by the child Jesus, to remedy a
blunder of Joseph in making it) give no unfair idea of the style of
many narratives in the legends of the Church. Among the miracles
attributed to Thomas a Becket is the story that the eyes of a priest of
Nantes, who doubted them, fell from their sockets. " In remembrance,11
says Froude, " of his old sporting days, the archbishop would mend
the broken wings and legs of hawks which had suffered from herons."
" Dead lambs, pigs, and geese were restored to life, to silence Saddu-
cees who doubted the resurrection." 1 The biographers of Xavier relate
that, having washed the sores of a poor invalid, he drank the water,
and the sores were forthwith healed. Even St. Bernard, preaching on
a summer day in a church where the people were annoyed by flies,
excommunicates these winged insects ; and in the morning they are
found to be all dead, and are swept out in heaps. It would be unjust
to say that trivial, ludicrous, or disgusting circumstances belong to all
ecclesiastical miracles. But such features are so common that they
tend to affix a corresponding character to the set of wonders, taken as
a whole, to which they pertain.
That the miracles of the Bible have a dignity and beauty peculiar to
themselves is acknowledged by disbelievers ; for instance, by the author
of Supernatural Religion. If any of them are thought to wear a dif
ferent look, they are exceptions. '• Hence," observes Cardinal Newman,
" the Scripture accounts of Eve's temptation by the serpent, of the
speaking of Balaam's ass, of Jonah and the whale, and of the devils
sent into the herd of swine are by themselves more or less improbable,
1 Dr. E. A. Abbott's work on Becket furnishes a variety of examples equally
grotesque and in themselves unworthy of credit. See, e.g., St. Thomas o,
Canterbury, I. 265 seq. See also Morris's Life of Becket, c. xxxiv.
APPENDIX 427
being unequal in dignity to the rest." "They are then supported," the
same author holds, " by the system in which they are found, as being a
few out of a multitude, and therefore but exceptions (and, as we sup
pose, but apparent exceptions) to the general rule." Whether this be
so or not, the remark implies that their exceptional character makes
it necessary that they should have an extraordinary support if they are
to be credited. The generality of the miracles of Scripture are of an
elevated character. They are at a wide remove in this respect from
the common run of pagan and ecclesiastical miracles. The contrast
is like that of a genuine coin with a clumsy counterfeit.
8. The evidential value of the miracles of the Gospel is not weakened,
even if it be admitted that miraculous events may have occasionally
occurred in later ages.
The restoration of the sick in response to prayer is commonly
through no visible or demonstrable exception to the unaided operation
of natural law. Yet no one deserves contempt for holding that, in
certain exceptional instances, the supernatural agency discovers itself
by evidence palpable to the senses. So discreet an historical critic as
Neander will not deny that St. Bernard may have been the instrument
of effecting cures properly miraculous. It is true, as was suggested
above, that missionary work is something to which human powers are
adequate, and which requires no other aid from above than the silent,
invisible operation of the Spirit of God. Yet Edmund Burke, speaking
of the introduction of Christianity into Britain by Augustine and his
associates, remarks, " It is by no means impossible that, for an end so
worthy, Providence on some occasions might directly have interfered.'"
" I should think it very presumptuous to say," writes F. D. Maurice,
" that it has never been needful, in the modern history of the world, to
break the idols of sense and experience by the same method which
was sanctioned in the days of old." Those who, like the writers just
quoted, hold that miraculous events have not been wholly wanting in
later ages, cannot maintain that they have occurred under such condi
tions of uniformity and the like, as distinguish the miracles of Christ
and the apostles. The most that can be claimed is that sometimes
they have occurred in answer to prayer, — a form of answer on which
the petitioner has never been able to count. The judicious student
who surveys the entire history of miraculous pretension will be slow to
admit the miraculous in particular instances of the kind described,
without the application of strict tests of evidence. He will bear in
mind that the great, the principal design of the miracle is to serve as at
once a constituent and proof of revelation.
A particular examination of the alleged miracles of the early age
of the Church is precluded by the limits of the present Note. The
following points are specially worthy of attention : —
428 APPENDIX
1. The miracles said to have been performed in the second and
third centuries are far less marked and less numerous than those
referred to in the two centuries that followed, — a fact the reverse of
what we should expect if these narrations were founded in truth.
2. The same writers — as Origen, Tertullian, Eusebius, Augustine —
who record contemporary miracles, imply in other passages that the
age of miracles had gone by, and that their own times were in marked
contrast, in this respect, with the era of the apostles.
3. The miracles related by the Fathers are mostly exorcisms, the
healing of the sick, and visions ; that is, occurrences where natural
agencies are most easily mistaken for supernatural. Miracles in which
this error is impossible lack sufficient attestation.1
The true view on this subject appears to be that miraculous manifes
tations in the Church ceased gradually. No sharp line of demarcation
can be drawn, marking off the age of miracles from the subsequent
period, when the operation of the Divine Providence and Spirit was no
longer palpably distinguished from the movements of natural law.
As we advance into the fourth century, called the Nicene age, we
meet with a notable increase in the number of alleged miracles. Yet
Chrysostom, Ambrose, Augustine, speak of the apostolic age, as distin
guished from their own, as having been a period marked by miracles.
Notwithstanding the high merits of the authors of the Nicene era, they
discover, more and more, the artificial, rhetorical tone which had now
come to infect literature. There was a habit of thought and style which
tends to breed exaggeration. It was a period of decadence. Relic-
worship, the invocation of martyrs and saints, and like superstitions
established themselves in the Church, and the alleged miracles were
frequently associated with these customs. A spirit of credulity gained
ground. The evidence for most of the post-apostolic miracles which
the Fathers advert to melts away on examination. In cases where there
is no ground for distrusting the sincerity of the narrator, we are bound
to consider whether the phenomena which one of the Fathers reports
were known to him directly ; and, if they were, whether they neces
sarily involve anything miraculous, — whether they may not reasonably
be referred to hallucination, or to some other source of unconscious
illusion.
As an example, we may take the reports of miracles which Augustine
has collected in his treatise on the City of God.2 He starts with a ref
erence to the objection that miracles are no longer wrought. u It might
be replied,1' he says, ki that they are no longer necessary, as they were
at first/1 This answer is in keeping with other statements made by
him, which imply that no such miracles were wrought in his time as
1 For -the Patristic passages on these three points, see Mozley's Bampton
Lectures, pp. 195 seq. 2 Lib. xxii.
APPENDIX 429
were done by Christ and the apostles. But in this place he affirms
that miracles are wrought, though more privately, and that they are less
widely reported. Many of those to which he refers are alleged to have
been performed in connection with the relics of the proto-martyr
Stephen, which, as was claimed, were discovered in A.D. 415, at a place
called Carphagamala, in Palestine, through information given by Gama
liel, the Jewish rabbi, in visions to Lucian, a priest of the Church there.
A portion of these relics found their way to Africa, and became the
centre of miraculous phenomena, the details of which are given by
Augustine. The circumstances of the finding of the relics are so im
probable as to suggest beforehand a legitimate doubt as to miraculous
interpositions in connection with them. But Augustine also relates
other miracles as having occurred in Africa. The first is described at
length : it is the disappearance of a fistula from the body of a man
at Carthage, who had not long before undergone a surgical operation
for the same trouble. This event, which fills Augustine with devout
amazement, is easily accounted for by physicians at present, without
any recourse to the supernatural. It was simply ignorance of physi
ology that led to the inference that it was a miracle. The next case is
that of Innocentia, a Christian woman in the same city, who had a
cancer on one of her breasts, and was cured by the sign of the cross
made upon it by the first woman whom she saw coming out of the bap
tistery, of whom she had been directed in a dream to ask this favor.
Here, in the absence of a more particular statement of the circum
stances, it would be rash to suppose a miracle. But the attestation is
in this case singularly deficient. The supposed miracle had been kept
secret, much to Augustine's indignation, who was somehow informed
of the event, and reprimanded the woman for not making it public.
She replied that she had not kept silence on the subject. But Augus
tine found, on inquiry, that the women who were best acquainted with
her " knew nothing of it," and "listened in great astonishment," when,
at his instigation, she told her story. How remarkable that the sud
den deliverance from a disorder which the physicians had pronounced
incurable should not have been known to her most intimate female
acquaintance ! Why did she tell Augustine that she had not kept it
to herself? How did he himself find it out ? The next miracle is that
of "black, woolly-haired boys," who appeared to a gouty doctor and
warned him not to be baptized that year. They trod on his feet, and
caused him the acutest pain. He knew them to be devils, and disobeyed
them. He was relieved in the very act of baptism, and did not suffer
from gout afterward. If we suppose that the fact was well attested,
who would be bold enough to ascribe it to a miracle ? How easy, in a
multitude of cures of this sort, to confound the antecedent with the
cause, the post hoc with the propter hoc! Several of the miracles which
Augustine had gathered into his net are of a grotesque character, as
430 APPENDIX
that which provided Florentius, a poor tailor of Hippo, with a new coat,
after a prayer to the twenty martyrs, whose shrine was near at hand.
Who was the cook that found the gold ring in the fish's belly? and who
was it that interrogated her on the subject? There are three or four
instances of the raising of the dead which are found in Augustine's list.
But of neither of these does he pretend to have been an eye-witness ;
nor, if the circumstances are credited in the form in which they are
given, is there anything to prove that death had actually taken place.
A swoon, or the temporary suspension of the powers of life, may have
been in each instance all that really occurred.
Another miracle in Augustine's catalogue is that of the martyrs of
Milan, which occurred while he was in that city, and which is also
described circumstantially by Ambrose, the celebrated bishop. A vio
lent conflict was raging between Ambrose and the mass of the populace,
on the one side, and the Arian Empress Justina, the widow of Valentin-
ian I., with her following, on the other. Ambrose had refused her
demand that one church edifice should be set apart for Arian worship.
The populace, who were in full sympathy with their bishop, were in a
high state of excitement. A new church was to be dedicated, and they
were eager for relics with which to enrich it. Then follows the unex
pected discovery of the remains of two utterly forgotten martyrs, Prota-
sius and Gervasius, with fresh blood upon them, and able to shake the
earth in the neighborhood where they lay. As they are transported
through the city, a blind butcher touches the fringe of the pall that
covers them, and at once receives his sight. We are not willing to join
with Isaac Taylor in imputing to Ambrose himself complicity in a fraud.
Yet the circumstances connected with the discovery of the bodies indi
cate that fraud and superstitious imagination were combined in those
who were most active in the matter. The blindness of the butcher was
not congenital. It was a disorder which had obliged him to retire from
his business. But oculists know well that cases of total or partial blind
ness are sometimes instantly relieved. What was the special cause of
the disorder in this instance ? Had there been symptoms of amend
ment before ? Was the cure complete at the moment ? As long as we
are unable to answer these and like questions, it is unwise to assume
that there was a miracle. We miss in the accounts, be it observed, the
sobriety of the Gospel narratives. They are surcharged with the florid
rhetoric to which we have adverted.
The evidence for most of those post-apostolic miracles which are
more commonly referred to melts away on examination. The miracle
of "the thundering legion," whose prayers are said to have saved the
army of Marcus Aurelius (A.I). 174), and to have thus turned him from
his hostility to Christianity, is one of these. But no such effect was
produced on the emperor's mind, since he persecuted the Christians
afterwards (A.D. 178). The tempest of rain which brought relief to the
APPENDIX 431
army, the heathen asserted to be the consequence of their own prayers
to Jupiter. If it was true that a sudden shower of the kind described in
the story followed upon the supplications of the Christian soldiers, we
should hardly be justified in pronouncing it a miracle in the proper
sense of the term. The story of the cross with an inscription upon it,
seen by Constantine in the sky, Eusebius heard from the emperor not
until twenty-six years after the event, and was not acquainted with it
when, with the best opportunities for informing himself, he wrote his
Church History (about A.D. 325) . That Constantine had a dream in
the night such as Lactantius describes, is not improbable. It is possible
that on the day previous, a parhelion, or some similar phenomenon,
may have seemed to his excited and superstitious feeling a cross of light.
Under the circumstances, and considering the defects in the testimony,
this natural explanation is far the most probable. None of the post-
apostolic miracles appears to have a stronger attestation than that of
the breaking-out of fire from the foundations of the temple at Jerusalem,
when the workmen, by the order of the Emperor Julian, set about the
task of rebuilding that edifice. The fact is stated by a contemporary
heathen writer of good repute, Ammianus Marcellinus. Notwithstand
ing the grave historical difficulties which have been suggested by Lard-
ner and others, it seems most reasonable to conclude that some startling
phenomenon of the kind actually occurred. Neander says, " A sign
coming from God is here certainly not to be mistaken, although natural
causes also cooperate."1 Guizot, in his notes on Gibbon, explains the
occurrence by referring it to the explosion of the subterranean gases
suddenly liberated by the workmen. Although the admission of a
miracle in such a case detracts nothing from the peculiar function and
evidential force of the miracles of Scripture, we cannot feel obliged to
call in here supernatural agency. Natural causes of a physical nature,
together with the fears and fancies of the laborers, and the exaggerating
imagination of reporters, suffice to explain the alarm that was created,
and the cessation of the work.
The standing argument at the present day against the credibility
of the Evangelists is the precedent afforded by the biographers of u the
saints," and of the incredible marvels which they mingle with authentic
history. To some it is no matter of surprise that the apostles should
be utterly deceived in this branch of their testimony. Thus Matthew
Arnold boldly admits, that, if we had the original reports of eye
witnesses, we should not have a miracle less than we have now.2 Very
different is the judgment of a great historical scholar, Niebuhr. He
refers to the critical spirit in which he had come to the study of the
1 Chtirch History, vol. ii. pp. 69, 70.
2 Contemporary Review, vol. xxvi. p. 697.
432 APPENDIX
New Testament histories and to the imperfections which he believed
himself to find in them. He adds : " Here, as in every historical
subject, when I contemplated the immeasurable gulf between the nar
rative and the facts narrated, this disturbed me no further. He whose
earthly life and sorrows were depicted had for me a perfectly real
existence, and his whole history had the same reality, even if it were
not related with literal exactness in any single point. Hence, also, the
fundamental fact of miracles, which, according to my conviction, must
be conceded, unless we adopt the not merely incomprehensible but
absurd hypothesis that the Holiest was a deceiver, and his disciples
either dupes or liars ; and that deceivers had preached a holy religion,
in which self-renunciation is everything, and in which there is nothing
tending toward the erection of a priestly rule, — nothing that can be
acceptable to vicious inclinations. As regards a miracle in the strictest
sense, it really only requires an unprejudiced and penetrating study
of nature to see that those related are as far as possible from absurdity,
and a comparison with legends, or the pretended miracles of other
religions, to perceive by what a different spirit they are animated.11 1
" To perceive by what a different spirit they are animated " — it is
just this which Renan fails to see in the legends of the saints. It is
found impossible to dispute the fact that testimony substantially
equivalent to the contents of the Gospels was given by the apostles.
The grand hypothesis of a post-apostolic mythology, set up by Strauss,
is given up. That the apostles were wilful deceivers, if it be sometimes
insinuated, is felt to be a weak position. This old fortification of un
belief is abandoned. What, then, shall be said? Why, answers
Renan, they wrere, like the followers of St. Francis of Assisi, credulous,
romantic enthusiasts. The frequency with which he reverts to the
lives of St. Francis indicates what is the real source and prop of his
theory in his own mind. It is well to look at this pretended parallel
more narrowly.
\Ve have two lives of St. Francis by personal followers, — one, by
Thomas de Celano ; and another, by the " three companions." Another
life is from the pen of Bonaventura, who was five years old when the
saint died.'2 The moment one takes up these biographies, he finds
himself in an atmosphere different from that of nature and real life.
He is transported into dream-land. Feeling drowns perception.
Everything is suffused with emotion. We are in an atmosphere
where neither discriminating judgment nor cool observation is to be
looked for. Here is an example of the strain of eulogy in which these
disciples of St. Francis, intoxicated with admiration, indulge : " Oh,
how beautiful, how splendid, how glorious, he appeared, in innocence
1 Memoir of Niebnhr (Am. ed.), p. 236.
2 These lives are in the Acta Sanctorum (ed. nov.), vol. 90, pp. 683, 798.
APPENDIX 433
of life and in simplicity of language, in purity of heart, in delight in
God, in fraternal love, in odorous obedience, in complaisant devoted-
ness, in angelic aspect ! Sweet in manners, placid in nature, affable in
speech, most apt in exhortation, most faithful in trusts, prudent in
counsel, efficient in action, gracious in all things, serene in mind, sweet
in spirit, sober in temper, steadfast in contemplation, persevering in
esteem, and in all things the same, swift to show favor, slow to anger,1'
etc.1 This is only one of the outbursts of ecstatic admiration for " the
morning star,"1 the luminary " more radiant than the sun,'' in which
these chroniclers break out. When we turn to the saint who is
the object of all this fervor, we find in his character, to be sure, much
to respect. There is " sweetness and light " ; but the light is by far
the minor factor. The practice of asceticism rendered his bodily
state at all times abnormal and unhealthy. To lie on the ground,
with a log for a pillow ; to deny himself the refreshment of sleep
when it was most needed ; to choose, on principle, the coarsest food,
and to insist on its being cooked, if cooked at all, in a way that made
it as unpalatable and indigestible as possible ; to weep every day so
copiously that his eyesight was nearly destroyed, and then, as always
when he was ill, to take remedies with great reluctance, if he took them
at all — these customs were not favorable to sanity of mental action
any more than to soundness of body. They coexisted with attractive
virtues ; they sprang from pure motives ; but they were none the less
excesses of superstition. Persuaded on one occasion, when he was
enfeebled by illness, to eat of a fowl, he demonstrated his penitence by
causing himself to be led, with a rope round his neck, like a criminal,
through the streets of Assisi, by one of his followers, who shouted all
the time, " Behold the glutton ! "
The sort of miracles ascribed to St. Francis, and the measure of cre
dence which the stories of them deserve, may be understood from what
is said of his miraculous dealing with the lower animals. On a journey,
leaving his companions in the road, he stepped aside into the midst of a
concourse of doves, crows, and other birds. They were not frightened
at his approach. Whereupon he delivered to them a sermon, in which
he addressed them as " my brother-birds,11 and gave them wholesome
counsel — supposing them able to comprehend it — respecting their
duties to God. But we are assured that they did comprehend it, and
signified their approbation by stretching their necks, opening their
mouths, and flapping their wings. Having received from the saint the
benediction, and permission to go, this winged congregation flew away.
This is only one in a catalogue of wonders of the same kind. Fishes,
as well as birds, listened to preaching, and waited for the discourse to
conclude. We can readily believe Celano, when he says that St. Fran
cis was a man of "the utmost fervor,1' and had a feeling of '-piety and
1 Ada Sanctorum, ut supra, p. 716.
2F
434 APPENDIX
gentleness towards irrational creatures." He was probably one of those
who have a remarkable power of dispelling the fear, and winning the
confidence, of animals. Incidents where this natural power was exer
cised were magnified, by the fancy of devotees, into the tales, a sample
of which has been given. A like discount from other miraculous narra
tives resting on the same testimony would reduce the events which
they relate to the dimensions of natural, though it may be remarkable,
occurrences. It is needless to recount these alleged miracles. One or
two will suffice. Travelling together, St. Francis and his followers see
in the road a purse, apparently stuffed with coins. There was a temp
tation to pick it up. The rule of poverty was in imminent peril. The
saint warns his curious disciple that the devil is in the purse. Finally,
the disciple, after prayer, is permitted to touch it, when out leaps a
serpent, and instantly — mirabile dictul — serpent and purse vanish.
When the saint came to die, one of his followers beheld his soul, as it
parted from the body, in appearance like an immense luminous star,
shedding its radiance over many waters, borne upon a white cloud, and
ascending straight to heaven.
The great miracle in connection with St. Francis is that of the " stig
mata," or the marks of the wounds of Christ, which the Saviour was
thought in a vision to have imprinted upon his body. From the hour
when a vision of the crucified Christ was vouchsafed him, as he thought,
while he was in prayer before his image, ''"his heart," say the "tres
socii" was wounded and melted at the recollection of the Lord's pas
sion ; so that he carried while he lived the wounds — stigmata — of the
Lord Jesus in his heart. He sought in all ways to be literally conformed
to the Lord as a sufferer. For example, remembering that the Virgin
had no place where her son could lay his head, he would take his food
from the table where he was dining, carry it out, and eat it on the
ground. It was his constant effort to bring upon himself the identical
experiences of pain and sorrow which befell Christ. Especially did he
concentrate his thoughts in intense and long-continued meditation on
the crucifixion. There is a considerable number of other instances of
stigmata found upon the body, besides that of St. Francis. The scien
tific solution, which has high authority in its favor, is that the phenom
enon in question is the result of the mental state acting by a physiological
law upon the bod}'. It is considered to be one effect of the mysterious
interaction of mind and body, the products of which, when body and
mind are in a morbid condition, are exceptionally remarkable.
Before leaving our subject, let the reader reflect on that one trait of
the apostles by which they are distinguished from other witnesses to
alleged miracles. It is their truthfulness. Men may be devout ; they
may be capable of exalted emotions ; they may undertake works of
self-sacrifice, and be revered for their saintly tempers ; and yet they
may lack this one sterling quality on which the worth of testimony
APPENDIX 435
depends. This defect may not be conscious. It may result from a
passive, uninquiring temper. It may grow out of a habit of seeing
things in a hazy atmosphere of feeling, in which all things are refracted
from the right line. But the apostles, unlike many devotees of even
Christian ages, were truthful. Without this habit of seeing and relating
things as they actually occurred, their writings would never have exerted
that pure influence which has flowed from them. Because they uttered
" words of truth and soberness," they make those who thoroughly sym
pathize with the spirit of their writings value truth above all things.
And there is one proof of the truth of the apostles1 testimony which
can be appreciated by the unlearned. The character of Jesus as he is
depicted in the Gospels is too unique to be the result of invention. It
is the image of a perfection too transcendent to be devised by the wit
of man. Yet it is perfectly self-consistent, and obviously real in all its
traits. In him the natural and the supernatural, divine authority and
human feeling, the power which gives life to the dead and the sympathy
which expresses itself in tears, blend in complete accord. This portrait
of Christ in the Gospels is evidently drawn from the life. It demon
strates the truth of the Gospel history.
NOTE 22 (p. 343)
It is not uncommon at present to hear it asserted or insinuated that
religion, and the Christian religion in particular, has been an obstacle in
the way of the progress of natural science, including, under this desig
nation, the various departments of research which concern themselves
with the material world. Sometimes Christianity is spoken of as an
enemy still formidable. The questions which the naturalist has striven
to settle by observation and reasoning, he has been told are already
determined, once for all, by the infallible authority of the Bible.
The general allegation is not without plausibility. It is not a pure
fabrication. There are facts on which it is founded, whatever mistake
and whatever exaggeration are carried into the interpretation of them.
That in the name of religion, in past times, nearer and more remote, the
legitimate pursuits, researches, arguments, and hypotheses of physical in
quirers have been frowned upon, denounced, and proscribed is undeni
able. In antiquity, prior to Christ, science was not without its persecuted
votaries. Anaxagoras was arraigned before an Athenian court for holding
impious physical doctrine, such as the opinion that the sun is an incandes
cent stone, larger than the Peloponnesus ; and he owed his deliverance to
the friendship and the eloquence of Pericles. Passing down into Chris
tian times, it is a familiar fact that, in the middle ages, the students who
early interested themselves in chemical experiments — whether in the
hope of transmuting the baser metals into gold, or for some better reason
— were suspected of having entered into a league with the devil, and of
436 APPENDIX
accomplishing their experiments with the aid of this dark confederate.
Even Albert the Great, the teacher of Aquinas, did not wholly escape
this dangerous suspicion. At a later day Roger Bacon had more to
endure on the ground of analogous imputations. Turning to still later
times, we are at once reminded of the ecclesiastical antagonism to
astronomy, and of the memorable case of Galileo. The publication of
the documents connected with this case has put it into the power of
ever}' candid person, who will give the requisite attention to them, to
get at an exact knowledge of the facts ; and it has put it out of the
power of theological partisans to conceal or distort the truth. It is true
that much is still said of the Florentine astronomer's imprudence in the
advocacy of his doctrines, and of his temerity in venturing to discuss
the biblical relations of his discoveries, instead of leaving the interpre
tation of texts to the authorized mouthpieces of the Church. But nothing
that he did affords any valid excuse, or hardly even a faint palliation,
for the enormous wrong of the organized, unrelenting endeavor to sup
press the publication of important scientific truth, and for the more ter
rible sin of driving an old man to perjure himself by abjuring beliefs
which his tempters and persecutors well knew that in his heart he really
held.
Nothing so disgraceful as the condemnation of old Galileo, and his
abjuration compelled under menace of the torture, can be laid to the
charge of Protestants, as regards the treatment accorded to the devotees
of natural science. But Protestantism has to acknowledge that the same
sort of mistake has been made, with circumstances less tragic and sig
nal, by professed advocates of a larger liberty of thought. From the
first rise of geology, down to a recent day, the students of this branch
of science have had to fight their way against an opposition conducted
in the name of religion and of the Bible. They were charged with a
presumptuous attempt to contravene the plain teaching of revelation.
Cowper, in satirizing the dreams and delusions which get hold of the
minds of men, does not omit to castigate those who
" Drill and bore
The solid earth, and from the strata there
Extract a register, by which we learn
That lie \\ho made it, and revealed its date
To Moses, was mistaken in its age."
There is no doubt that the amiable poet intends to pour scorn upon
the theory that the globe is more than about six thousand years old, —
a theory then novel, but now universally accepted. The geologists
were flying in the face of Moses : they were audaciously setting up their
pretended record, dug out of the earth, against the Creator's own testi
mony, given in writing. What could indicate more palpably the arro
gance of reason ? How many pulpits thundered forth their denunciation
APPENDIX 437
of the impious fiction of the geologists! The most recent instance of
mistaken religious zeal in a blaze against the naturalists is furnished by
the advent of Darwinism. The recollection is still fresh of the anathe
mas which the appearance of Darwin's Origin of Species and Descent
of Man provoked.
The causes of the attitude of intolerance which has frequently been
taken by religious men toward new opinions in natural science are mul
tiple. There is, first, the customary impatience of new truth, or of new
doctrine which stands in opposition to cherished ideas, — ideas that have
long had a quiet lodgement in the mind. This species of conservatism
is far from being peculiar to theologians or to the religious class : it be
longs to other classes of human beings as well, and is manifested equally
in connection with other beliefs. The path which scientific discoverers
have to tread, apart from the religious and ecclesiastical jealousies which
they are liable to awaken, is not apt to be a smooth one. Every impor
tant revolution in scientific opinion has succeeded, not without a conflict
with the adherents of the traditional view, — an internecine war among
the cultivators of science themselves.
Then, secondly, religious faith, as it exists in almost every mind, is
habitually associated with beliefs erroneously supposed to be implicated
in it. Religious beliefs, in the average mind, are so interwoven with
one another, as the mere effect of association, where there may be no
necessary bond of union, that where one of them is assailed, the whole
are thought to be in danger. Time was, when a belief in witchcraft
was held by many to be an articiilus stantis a,2it cadentis ecclesice. Even
John Wesley expresses this opinion, or something equivalent. It was a
belief that had existed so long, it had been adopted and practised on by
so many of the good and bad, it was judged to be so recognized in the
Scriptures, it entered so intimately into the accepted mode of conceiving
of supernatural agents, that the loss of it out of the faith of a Christian
was felt to be like a displacement of a stone from the arch : it would lead
to the downfall of the whole structure. The old Greeks held that the
stars were severally the abode of deific beings : they were animated and
moved by intelligences. Plato and Aristotle were not delivered from this
way of thinking. When a man like Anaxagoras said that the sun was
a stone, the entire theological edifice was felt to be menaced with over
throw. Men did not at once discern that atheism did not follow. The
disposition "to multiply essentials1- good Richard Baxter considered
the bane of the Church, the prolific source of intolerance and division.
The tendency to identify accident with substance, the failure to discern
the core of a truth from its integuments, is at the root of much of the
rash and unreasoning and vehement resistance that has been offered in
past times to the advances of natural science.
After these preliminary remarks on the causes of complaint which
students of nature have had in times distant and recent, we proceed to
438 APPENDIX
affirm that the general allegation against religion and Christianity, of
having proved a hindrance to the advancement of scientific knowledge,
is without a just foundation. In the patristic age, in the history of
ancient Christianity, writers can find little that can help them to bolster
up their fictitious charge. To understand the middle ages, one must
take into view the domination of Aristotle, which, partly for good and
partly for evil, established itself in the thirteenth century in the educated
class. At first Aristotle was resisted, especially when the Arabic Panthe
ism linked itself to his teaching ; but finally he came to be considered
as a chosen man who had exhausted the possibilities of natural reason.
Considering what the character of civilization was in that era, the influ
ence of the Stagirite was natural, and not without a great intellectual
benefit. With the Reformation, his sceptre was broken. The way was
opened by this emancipation for the progress of physical and natural
science. The epochs in this great emancipation are marked by the
advent of the voyagers Columbus and Da Gama, by the discoveries of
Copernicus and Vesalius, by the revolution effected by Newton, by the
extension of astronomical science through the elder Herschel, and by
the final triumph of the method of experimental and inductive research
which owed much to the influence of Bacon, but the glory of which
must be shared by a multitude of explorers. To figure this progress of
culture, through Aristotle's reign and since his downfall, as a " conflict
with religion," is a proceeding as shallow as it is calumnious.1
The indebtedness of science to the Arabs is often overstated. Nesto-
rians were the tutors and guides of the Arabs. Alfarabi and Avicenna
were pupils of Syrian and Christian physicians. In the ninth century,
Hassein Ibn Ishak was at the head of a school of interpreters at Bag
dad, by whom the Arabs were furnished with the treatises of the Stagi
rite and of his ancient commentators.2 Thirdly, the additions which
the Arabs made to the stock of learning were comparatively small. We
say "comparatively.1' In comparison with what they learned from the
Greeks, their contributions were small ; but, especially in comparison
with the scientific achievements of Christian students of later days, the
discoveries of the Mohammedans were insignificant. Whewell, in his
History of the Inductive Sciences, has brought out very distinctly the
fact that it was not until scientific discovery and experiment were taken
up under Christian auspices and by Christian explorers, that the aston
ishing advances were made which give character to modern science. In
astronomy, the favorite study of the Arabs, and one in which they really
did much, what is all their original teaching when set by the side of the
work done by Copernicus, Galileo, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, and Newton?
1 Zockler's work, Gesch. d. Beziehungen d. Theol. u. Naturwissemchafl
(1877), contains interesting matter on the points here considered.
2 See Ueberweg's Hist, of Philosophy, i. pp. 410 seq.
APPENDIX 439
The methods, the instruments, the observation, the brilliant inductions,
which have revolutionized our conceptions of the sidereal universe, are
not due to the Arabs. They are owing to the genius of the Christian
masters whose names have just been given, and to others who have trod
in their path. It is in the atmosphere of Christianity, amid the influ
ences which Christian civilization has originated, in the bosom of
Christian society, that the amazing progress of natural and physical
science in all of its departments has taken place. To hold the Church
at all times, much more Christianity itself, responsible for every deed of
cruelty and fanaticism which the rulers of the Church committed, is a
manifest injustice.
A fallacy still more flagrant, of which the class of writers whom we
have in mind are guilty, is deserving of special attention. These
writers unconsciously overlook the fact that, for the most part, the
pioneers of scientific discovery who have had to endure persecution
for broaching novel views upon the constitution and origin of nature
have been themselves Christians. It has not been a war of dis
believers and sceptics, on the one side, who have been obliged to
suffer at the hands of believers in Christianity for teaching scientific
truth. It has commonly been a contest of Christian against Christian.
Where there has been a combat of this sort, it has been an intestine
struggle. Where the war has existed, it has been a war of Greek
against Greek. Christian men, taught in Christian schools, or stimu
lated intellectually by the aggregate of influences which Christianity
has in the process of time, to a great degree, called into being, make
some new discovery in science, which clashes with previous opinions,
and strikes many as involving the rejection of some article of Christian
belief. Debate ensues. Intemperate defenders of the received opinion
denounce those who would overthrow it. Intolerant men, if they have
the power, instigated by passion, and probably thinking that they are
doing God service, resort to force for the purpose of suppressing the
obnoxious doctrine, and crushing its advocates. These advocates,
denying that Christianity is impugned by their new scientific creed,
stand, with more or less constancy, for the defence of it.
If all that has been said of the opposition offered in past times
to scientific progress by Christian people were true, no conclusion
adverse to the truth of Christianity could be inferred. To justify such
:i conclusion, it would be necessary to prove that the Christian faith,
the doctrine of Christ and of his redemption, carries in it by natural or
necessary consequence this antipathy. It might be that the professed
adherents of a religious system fail, in numerous instances, to apprehend
in certain particulars its true genius. They may identify their own
preconceptions with its actual teaching. They may misinterpret that
teaching in some important aspects of it. They may carry their own
ideas into the sacred books, instead of receiving their ideas from them.
440 APPENDIX
They may fail to apprehend clearly the design and scope of their
sacred writings, the character and limits of their authority. They may
cling to the letter, and let the spirit, in a measure, escape them. They
may fail to separate between the essential and the accidental in their
contents, the truth and the vehicle which embodies it. Unless it can
be shown, then, that Christianity involves a view of the material world
and of its origin, of the laws of nature and its final cause, and of man,
which is at variance with the results of natural investigation, nothing
which the adherents of Christianity have said or done in this matter is
of vital moment. That Christianity, fairly understood and defined,
involves no such contradiction to scientific belief is capable of being
proved.
A sense of the beauty and sublimity of nature pervades the Bible.
The keen relish of the Hebrew writers for the grand and the lovely
aspects of nature is specially manifest in the Psalms and prophets.
The starry sky, forest, and mountain, and sea, filled the Israelite's heart
with mingled awe and rejoicing. Nor was he insensible to the in
fluence of gentler sights and sounds, — to the bleating of the flocks
on the hillside, the songs of birds, the flowers and fruits with their
varied colors. That sort of asceticism which turns away from nature as
something, if not hostile to the spirit, yet beneath man's notice, is in
absolute contrast with the tone of the Scriptures. The religion of the
Hebrews, not less than the religion of the New Testament, looking
on the visible wrorld as the work of God and a theatre of his incessant
activity, allowed no such antipathy. It left no room for a cynical
contempt or disregard of external beauty. The glowing descriptions
of poets and seers, reflecting the spontaneous impressions made by
nature on souls alive to its grandeur and its charm, naturally inspired
an appreciation of that kind of knowledge which was ascribed to the
king who '* spake of trees, from the cedar tree that is in Lebanon even
unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall : he spake also of beasts,
and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes " (i Kings iv. 33).
The unity of nature is presupposed in the Scriptures. It is the
correlate of the strict monotheism of the Bible. There is no divided
realm, as there is no dual or plural sovereignty. Humboldt refers to the
hundred-and-fourth Psalm as presenting the image of the whole cosmos :
" Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment : who stretchiest
out the heavens like a curtain: who layeth the beams of his'chambers
in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot,11 etc. "We are
astonished,11 writes Humboldt, " to find in a lyrical poem of such a
limited compass the whole universe — the heavens and the earth —
sketched with a few bold touches. The calm and toilsome labor of
man, from the rising of the sun to the setting of the same, when his
daily work is done, is here contrasted with the moving life of the
elements of nature. This contrast and generalization in the concep-
APPENDIX 441
tion of the mutual action of natural phenomena, and this retrospection
of an omnipresent, invisible power, which can renew the earth, or
crumble it to dust, constitute a solemn and exalted, rather than a
glowing and gentle, form of poetic creation." It " is a rich and ani
mated conception of the life of nature.'1 1 This one thought of the
unity of nature is not an induction, but an intuitive perception involved
in the revealed idea of God, and gives to science by anticipation one
of its imperative demands.
Not only does the Bible proclaim the unity of nature ; it views
nature as a system.
In the first place, the operation of " natural causes " is recognized. In
the story of the creation, every sort of plant and tree was made to yield
" fruit after its kind, whose seed is in itself ' ; " and every class of animals,
to produce offspring "after its kind." One has only to look at Job
and the Psalms to convince himself that the reality of nature and of
natural agents is a familiar thought to the sacred writers. It is true
that these writers are religious : they do not limit their attention to the
proximate antecedent : they go back habitually to the First Cause.
If they do not speculate about " second causes,11 they recognize the order
of nature. They may often leap over intermediate subordinate forces,
and attribute phenomena directly to the personal source of all energy.
This involves no denial of secondary, instrumental means, but only of an
atheistic or pantheistic mode of regarding them. If we say that Erwin
von Steinbach built the spire of the Strasburg Cathedral, we do not
mean that stones and derricks were not employed in the construction
of it. We simply trace it immediately to him whose plan and directive
energy originated the structure. When the Bible says that " by the
word of the Lord were the heavens made,11 there is involved no denial
of the nebular theory. Hardly any assertion relative to the subject is
more frequent than that the Scriptures recognize no natural agencies.
It is unfounded. It springs from a dull method of interpreting religious
phraseology, and from a neglect of multiplied passages which teach the
contrary.
Not only are natural causes recognized : nature is governed by law.
Its powers are under systematic regulation. To the Hebrew poet, says
Humbolclt, nature "is a work of creation and order, the living expres
sion of the omnipresence of the Divinity in the visible world.11 1 There
are no dark realms given up to unreason and disorder. Everywhere
the power and wisdom of the Most High have stamped themselves on
the creation. The same writer from whom we have just quoted
remarks of the closing chapters of the Book of Job : •' The meteoro
logical processes which take place in the atmosphere, the formation
and solution of vapor, according to the changing direction of the wind,
1 Cosmos, vol. ii. p. 412 (Bonn's eel.).
442 APPENDIX
the play of its colors, the generation of hail and of the rolling thunder,
are described with individualizing accuracy : and many questions are
propounded which we, in the present state of our physical knowledge,
may indeed be able to express under more scientific definitions, but
scarcely to answer satisfactorily."1 In these chapters of Job the
mysteries of nature are set forth in connection with the reign of law
and the impressive demonstration afforded by it of the inexhaustible
wisdom and might of the Creator and Sustainer of all things. The
waters in their ebb and flow, the clouds in their gathering and their
journeys, the stars and constellations in their regular motion, the course
of the seasons, the races of animals, with the means given them for
safety and subsistence, in a word, every department of the physical
universe, is brought into this picture of the ordered empire of Jehovah.
Looking at the Scriptures as a whole, we may say that, so far from
contradicting science in their views of nature, they anticipate the fun
damental assumptions of science which induction helps to verify, and
that nothing in the literature of the remote past is so accordant with
that sense of the unity, order, not to speak of the glory, of nature,
which science fosters, as are the Sacred Writings.
It was to be expected that a revelation having for its end the moral
deliverance of mankind would abstain from authoritative teaching
on matters relating to natural science, except so far as they are
inseparable from moral and religious truth. Theism, as contrasted
with atheism, dualism, pantheism, and polytheism, is a fundamental
postulate of revelation and redemption. That the only living God has
created, upholds, and dwells in the world of nature, that the world in
its order and design testifies to him, that his providence rules all, are
truths which enter into the warp and woof of the revealed system.
So man's place in creation, his nature, sin as related to his physical
and moral constitution, the effect of death, are themes falling within
the scope of revealed religion. In general we find that the Bible con
fines itself to this circle of truths. The ideas of nature, apart from its
direct religious bearings, are such as contemporary knowledge had
attained. The geography, the astronomy, the meteorology, the geology,
of the scriptural authors are on the plane of their times. Copernicus
and Columbus, Aristotle and Newton, are not anticipated. The Bible
renders unto science the things of science. The principal apparent
exception to this procedure is in the somewhat detailed narrative of
creation in the first chapter of Genesis.
Respecting this passage, it deserves to be remarked that elsewhere
in the Old Testament no stress is laid upon the details as there found.
The allusions to the origin of things in Job, the Psalms, and Proverbs
do not exhibit the succession of organic beings in just the same order.
1 Cosmos, vol. ii. p. 414.
APPENDIX 443
Even in the hundred-and-fourth Psalm, where the same order in the
works of creation appears, — the writer having in mind the Genesis
narrative, — no weight is attached to the number of days.1
If we glance at the history of the interpretation of this passage, we
shall find that the meaning given to it in different periods is generally
matched to the science of the day. From Philo and Origen the alle
gorical treatment spread in the ancient Church, and prevailed in the
middle ages. Augustine considered that the works of creation were
in reality simultaneous, or that creation is timeless. His view was that
time begins with creation.
Since the rise of modern astronomy and geology, new difficulties have
arisen. The physical system, as conceived by the Genesis writer, is
said to be geocentric. The origination of the luminaries above, of the
earth and of the organized beings upon it, seems to be placed at an
epoch only a few thousand years distant, and to be represented as taking
place in a few days. On the contrary, geology, to say nothing here of
ethnological and archaeological science, shows that the system of things
has come into being gradually, that creation stretches over vast periods
in the past. Enough has been said already to indicate how groundless
are the objections which spring merely from inattention to the religious
point of view of the biblical writers. The First Cause is brought into
the foreground : proximate antecedents are passed over. The features
of the Genesis narrative which appear to clash with science are chiefly
the order of succession in creation, and the chronological statements.
Various hypotheses for the reconcilement of Genesis and science
may be left unnoticed, for the reason that they are either given up, or
deal too largely in fancy to merit serious consideration. There is one
theory, however, which still has its advocates, and is entitled to a
hearing. It is that which looks on the Genesis narrative as an epitome
of the history of creation, " days " being the symbolical equivalent, or
representative, of the long eras which science discloses ; there being,
however, a correspondence in the order of sequence, — a correspondence
of a very striking character, and giving evidence of inspiration. It is
not supposed that the facts of science were opened to the view of the
writer of the first chapter of Genesis ; but he saw, possibly in a vision,
or through some other method of supernatural teaching, the course of
things in their due order. The length of time really consumed in the
process, he, perhaps, may have been as ignorant of as were his readers.
Plausible as this theory may appear to some, and supported though it
has been by distinguished names in science, as well as in theology, it
has to encounter grave difficulties. Equally learned naturalists in large
numbers regard the alleged correspondence in the order of events as
1 See Dilhnann, Die Genesis, p. 12 ; cf. Isa. xxvi. 7-10, xxxviii. 4 seq.;
Prov. viii. 24 seq. ; Ps. xxiv. 2.
444 APPENDIX
unreal, or as effected by a forced interpretation of the narrative. With
these naturalists many judicious critics and exegetes are agreed. The
matching of the narrative to the geological history is thought to require
a more flexible and arbitrary understanding of words and phrases in the
former than a sound method of hermeneutics will sanction.1 Another
circumstance which tends to give a precarious character to the hypothe
sis in question is the documentary composition of Genesis. It is gener
ally agreed that there are two distinct accounts of the creation, from
somewhat different points of view, placed in juxtaposition. The hand
of the compiler is plainly seen. The new light upon Oriental history
and religions which has been obtained raises additional doubt as to the
tenableness of the hypothesis of which we are speaking. A mistake
has often been made, especially by naturalists, in assuming that the first
chapter of Genesis stands by itself, instead of being one of a series of
narratives which extend over the earlier portion of the book, and must
be examined and judged as a whole. It is ascertained that narratives
bearing strong marks of likeness to these were current among the other
Semitic peoples with whom the Israelites were related, — among the
Phoenicians, and among the Babylonians and Assyrians. How far
back can the purer or the Genesis form of these narratives be traced ?
Are they to be considered the original, most ancient form of traditionary
belief, of which the other Semitic legends are a corruption? One thing
is evident, that the expurgation and ennobling of these hoary traditions
must hcve been the work of minds illuminated by divine revelation.
The divine or inspired element in the Genesis narrative of the creation
would thus be made to consist in the exclusion of elements at war with
the religion of Israel, and in the casting of the ancient story into a
shape in which it should become a vehicle of communicating, not scien
tific truth, but the great religious ideas which form the kernel of the
Mosaic revelation. It cannot be denied that this would be an impor
tant step taken in the deliverance of the Israelites from polytheistic
superstition. This was enough to effect on that stage of revelation. To
substitute a scientific cosmogony for the inherited beliefs of the early
Israelites would require magic rather than miracle. It would be either
a supernatural teaching of what it belongs to the inquisitive mind of
man and the progress of science to discover, or it would be a kind of
inspired riddle, the meaning of which could not be in the least divined
— in this respect differing from prophecy — until science had rendered
the ascertainment of its meaning superfluous.
No theory of evolution clashes with the fundamental ideas of the
Bible as long as it is not denied that there is a human species, and that
man is distinguished from the lower animals by attributes which we
know that he possesses. Whether the first of human kind were created
1 See Dillmann, p. II.
APPENDIX 445
outright, or, as the second narrative in Genesis represents it, were
formed out of inorganic material, out of the dust of the ground, or were
generated by inferior organized beings, through a metamorphosis of
germs, or some other process, — these questions, as they are indifferent
to theism, so they are indifferent as regards the substance of biblical
teaching. It is only when, in the name of science, the attempt is made
to smuggle in a materialistic philosophy, that the essential ideas of the
Bible are contradicted.
As regards the idea of creation, or the origin of things by the act of
God's will, it is a point on which science is incompetent to pronounce.
It belongs in the realm of philosophy and theology. Natural science
can describe the forms of being that exist, can trace them back to ante
cedent forms, can continue the process until it arrives at a point beyond
which investigation can go no farther; then it must hand over the
problem to philosophy. To disprove creation would require an insight
into the nature of matter and of finite spirit such as no discreet man of
science would pretend for a moment to have gained. This question,
too, the question what constitutes the reality of things perceived, is a
problem to the solution of which natural science lends a certain amount
of aid, but which metaphysics and theology have at last to determine as far
as the human faculties make it possible. Christianity touches the domain
of science in the Christian doctrine of physical death as the penal con
sequence of sin. Do not all living things die? Do not the animals,
those whose organization most resembles that of man, perish at the end
of an allotted term ? Are not the seeds of dissolution in our physical
constitution? Do not the Scriptures themselves dwell on man's natural
frailty and mortality? Does not an apostle — the same who asserts that
death came in through sin — speak of the first man as of the earth, and
mortal ?
The narrative in Genesis does not imply that man was immortal in
virtue of his physical constitution. It teaches the opposite. Its doc
trine is that had he remained obedient to God, and in communion with
him, an exemption from mortality would have been granted him. Not
only would he have been spared the bodily pains which sin directly en
tails through physical law, and the remorse and mental anguish which
are " the sting of death,'1 but he would have made the transition to the
higher form of life and of being through some other means than by the
forcing apart of soul and body. The resurrection of Jesus, and
the promised resurrection of his followers, is the giving of a renewed
organism — "a spiritual body" — in the room of " flesh and blood."
The idea is that of a restoration to man of a boon which he forfeited
through sin. It is the idea of a development into a higher mode of
existence, reached by a process less violent and more natural than the
crisis of death. The science which is adventurous enough to find Plato's
Dialogues and Shakespeare's plays in the sunbeams will hardly assume
446 APPENDIX
to deny the possibility of such a transmutation. Christianity does not
permit sin, and the effects of sin on human nature, to be lightly esti
mated. A moral disorder, a disorder at the core of man's being, brings
consequences more portentous than are dreamt of in the philosophy
which will not recognize this terrible but patent fact. It is true that the
lower animals die. But man is distinguished from them. He is more
than a sample of the species. He is an individual. He includes, in his
principle of life, rationality, conscience, affinity to God. If he were
nothing but an animal, then it might be irrational to think of his escap
ing the fate of the brute. But, being thus exalted, there is no absurdity
in conceiving of such an evolution from the lower to the higher stage
of existence, as robs death of the dread associated with it — an evolution,
however, conditioned on his perseverance in moral fidelity and fellow
ship with God. When the Scriptures speak of human weakness, frailty,
and mortality, it is to mankind in their present condition, with the con
sequences of sin upon them, that they refer.
The Scriptures point forward to the perfecting of the kingdom of God,
the consummation of this world's history. The physical universe is not
an end in itself. It is subservient to moral and spiritual ends. It is not
to remain forever in its present state. It is to partake in the redemption.
The material system is to be transfigured, ennobled, converted into an
abode and instrument suited to the transfigured nature of the redeemed.
'"Without the loss of its substantial being, matter will exchange its
darkness, hardness, weight, inertia, and impenetrability for clearness,
brilliancy, elasticity, and transparency.111 The mystery that overhangs
this change is no ground for disbelief. As far as physical science has
a right to speak on the subject, it furnishes arguments for the possibil
ity of such an evolution, and corroborates the obscure intimations of
Scripture.2
The remark is not unfrequently heard, that, though there may be no
positive dissonance between science and Scripture, yet the whole con
ception of the universe which science has brought to us is unlike that
of the biblical writers, — so unlike, that the biblical doctrine of redemp
tion is made incredible. The earth, instead of being the centre of the
sidereal system, is only a minute member of it. It is, one has said, but
"a pinpoint " in the boundless creation. Consequently, man is reduced
to insignificance. How can we imagine a mission of the Son of God,
an incarnation of Deity, in behalf of a race inhabiting this little sphere?
The incredibility of the Christian doctrine is heightened, we are told,
by the probability, given by analogy, that other rational beings without
number, possibly of higher grade than man, exist in the multitudinous
worlds which astronomy has unveiled.
1 Dormer, Christ!, Glaubenslehre, ii. 973.
2 See Tait and Stewart, The Unseen Universe.
APPENDIX 447
The whole point of this difficulty lies in the supposed insignificance
of man. He who entertains such thoughts will do well to ponder cer
tain eloquent sayings of Pascal. What is the physical universe, with
its worlds upon worlds, compared with the thought of it in man's mind?
Who is it that discovers the planets, weighs them, measures their paths,
predicts their motions? Shall bulk be the standard of worth? Shall
greatness be judged by the space that is filled? One should remember,
also, the sublime observation of Kant on the starry heavens above us
and the moral law within us, — one connecting us with a vast physical
order, in which, to be sure, we occupy a small place, but the other bind
ing us to a moral order of infinite moment, giving to our spiritual being
a dignity which cannot be exaggerated. As to possible races of rational
creatures in other worlds, who, if they exist, can affirm that the mission
and work of Christ have no significance for them? But, not to lose
ourselves in conjecture, the objection is seen, on other grounds, to be
without any good foundation. The existence of any number of rational
creatures elsewhere does not diminish in the least the worth of man ; it
does not lessen his need of help from God ; it does not weaken the
appeal which his forlorn condition makes to the heart of the heavenly
Father ; it does not lower the probability of a divine interposition for
his benefit. Shall the Samaritan turn away from one sufferer at the
wayside, because myriads of other men exist, many of them, perhaps,
in a worse condition than he? This method of reasoning and of feel
ing is quickly condemned when it is met with in human relations. It
would deaden the spirit of benevolence. It is not less fallacious, and
not less misleading, when applied to the relations of God to mankind.
NOTE 23 (p. 343)
It appears to be thought by many at present that the argument for
Christian revelation from prophecy is of little weight. In treatises on
Christian evidences, it has fallen into the background, or has disap
peared altogether, By some it would seem to be considered an objec
tion, rather than a support, to the Christian cause. This impression
is due in part to wrong methods of interpretation that were formerly
in vogue.
Prophecy, looked at in the light of a more scientific exegesis and a
larger conception of the nature of prophetic inspiration, furnishes a
striking and powerful argument for revelation.
One thing which modern theologians have learned respecting Hebrew
prophecy is that prediction was not the exclusive, or even the principal,
constituent in the poet's function. The prophets were raised up to
instruct, rebuke, warn, and comfort the Israel of their own day. They
dealt with the exigencies and obligations of the hour. They were the
spokesmen of God, consciously speaking to the people by his commis-
448 APPENDIX
sion, and through his Spirit inspiring them. Prediction was involved,
both as to the near and the distant future. But, as we see from the
case of the prophets of the New Testament church (i Cor. xiv. 24, 31),
foretelling was not the essential thing. The prophet was an inspired
preacher.
Another change in the modern view of prophecy is in the perception
of the limitations to which the prophets were subject, as to the extent
and the form of their vaticinations. Allegorical interpretation, in the
form, for example, which ascribed to the language of the prophets a
double or multiple sense of which they were conscious, or in the form
which laid into their words a meaning at variance with their natural
import, is now set aside. There is a broader view taken of the matter.
The distinction between the inmost idea, the underlying truth, and the
form in which it is conceived, or the imagery under which it is beheld,
by the seer, is recognized. The central conception of the organic
relation of the religion of the Old Testament to that of the New, the
first being rudimental in its whole character, and thus in its very
nature predictive, — -just as a developed organism is foreshadowed in
its lower forms or stages, — illuminates the whole subject. It suggests
the limitations of view which must of necessity inhere in prophetical
anticipation, even though it be supernatural in its origin.
Prediction, in order to be an evidence of revelation, must be shown
to be truly pre-diction, — that is, to have been uttered prior to the event
to which it relates. On this point, as regards the Old Testament
prophecies, there is no room for reasonable doubt.1 The predictions
must be shown not to spring from native sagacity, or wise forecast
based on natural causes known to be in operation. And they must
be verified to an extent not to be explained either by the supposition
of accidental coincidence, or by supposing the effect to be wrought by
the influence of the predictions themselves.
If we glance at the prophets as they present themselves to our view
on the pages of the Old Testament, we shall be helped to judge
whether their predictions can endure the test of these criteria.
A man was not made a prophet by virtue of any natural talents that
he possessed, or any acquired knowledge. He might, to be sure, be a
great poet ; but this of itself did not make him a prophet. The prophets,
it is true, were not cut off from a living relation to their times. They
did not appear as visitors from another planet. But what the prophet
had learned, whether in ••' the schools of the prophets " (when such
existed, and if he belonged to them), or from the study of the law, and
of other prophets who preceded him, did not furnish him with the
1 If the late date of the Book of Daniel is accepted, its predictions, as far
as they relate to events prior to the Maccabean age, must be left out of the
account.
APPENDIX 449
message which he delivered. He was not like the rabbi or scribe
of a later day. He did not take up his office of his own will. So far
from this, he is conscious of being called of God by an inward call
which he cannot and dare not resist. The splendid passage in which
Isaiah recurs to the vision in the temple, when " the foundations of the
thresholds shook/' and the Voice was heard to say, "Whom shall I
send?" shows the awe-inspiring character of the divine call which set
the prophet apart for his work (Isa. vi.). The true prophet is conscious
of being called to declare, not the results of his own investigations or
reflections, but the counsels and will of the Most High. He utters the
word of God. It may be a message that runs counter to his own pref
erence, that excites the deepest grief in his soul, that overcomes him with
surprise or terror; but he cannot keep silent. So conscious is he that
he is not speaking out of his own heart, as do the false prophets, that
at times he no longer speaks in propria persona as the deputy of God :
God himself speaks, in the first person, by his lips. Yet as a rule,
and especially in the later and higher stages of prophecy, the state
of the prophet is not that of ecstasy. He is in full possession of
reason and consciousness. He distinguishes between his own thoughts
and words and the word of God. There is no bewilderment. The
truth which he pours forth from a soul exalted, yet not confused, by
emotion is not something reasoned out. It is an immediate perception
or intuition. He is a seer : he hears or beholds that which his tongue
declares. The intuition of the prophet cannot be resolved into a natural
power of divination. What power of divination could look forward to
the far remote consummation of the workings of Providence in history?
The prophets give utterance to no instinctive presage of national
feeling. Commonly their predictions are in the teeth of the cherished
aspirations of the people.
The prophets predicted events which human foresight could not
anticipate. Yet there is no such correspondence between prediction
and fulfilment, that history is written in detail in advance of the actual
occurrences. There is no such identity as to disturb the action of
human free-will, as it would be deranged if everything that man were
to do and to suffer in the future were mapped out before his eyes.
Moreover, the conditions under which the ideas given to the prophet
necessarily shape themselves in his thought and imagination — which
may be called the human side of prophecy — give rise to a greater or
less disparity between the mode of the prediction and the mode of
fulfilment. This will constitute an objection to the reality of prophecy,
only to those who cannot break through the shell, and penetrate to the
kernel within it. On this topic Ewald writes as follows : —
" A projected picture of the future is essentially a presentiment, a surmise;
i.e. an attempt and effort of the peering spirit to form from the basis of a
certain truth a definite idea of the form the future will take, and to pierce
2G
450 APPENDIX
through the veil of the unseen : it is not a description of the future with
those strict historical lines which will characterize it when it actually unfolds
itself. The presentiment or foreboding advances at once to the general scope
and great issue. Before the prophet who is justly foreboding evil, there rises
immediately the vision of destruction as the final punishment; but probably
this does not come to pass immediately, or only partially; and yet the
essential truth of the threat remains as long as the sins which provoked
it continue, whether it be executed sooner or later. Or when the gaze of the
prophet, eager from joyous hope or sacred longing, dwells on the considera
tion of the so-called Messianic age, this hovers before him as coming soon
and quickly; what he clearly sees appearing to him as near at hand. But the
development of events shows how many hindrances still stand in the way of
the longed-for and surmised consummation, which again and again vanishes
from the face of the present : nevertheless, the pure truth that the consum
mation will come, and must come precisely under the conditions foretold by
the prophet, remains unchangeably the same; it retains its force during every
new period, and from time to time some part of the great hope finds its
fulfilment. Further : the presentiment endeavors to delineate its subject-
matter with the greatest clearness and definiteness, and, in order to describe
really unseen things, borrows the comparisons and illustrations that are at
hand from the past and popular ideas. To set forth the presentiment of evil,
there occurs the memory of Sodom, or all the terrible things of nature; whilst
for bright hope and aspiration, there is the memory of Mosaic and Davidic
times. But the prophet does not really intend to say -that only the things
that occurred in Sodom, and under Moses and David, will recur, or that
mere earthquakes and tempests will happen; but, using these comparisons,
he means something far higher." l
The prophet, beholding things future as if present, may leap over
long intervals of time. Events may appear to him near at hand which
are really distant. Thus, in Isaiah, the Messianic era follows im
mediately on the liberation of the Israelites from captivity. Round
numbers may be used, — numbers having only a symbolical signifi
cance.2 Events may be grouped according to the causal rather than
the temporal relation between them.
On this matter of chronology, Ewald has suggestive remarks : —
" The prophetic presentiment, finally, endeavoring in certain distressing
situations to peer still more closely into the future, ventures even to fix terms
and periods for the development of the events which are foreseen as certain;
yet all these more definite limitations and calculations are so many essays
of a peculiar class, to be conceived of and judged by their own nature and
from the motive that produced them, to say nothing of the fact that every
thing that the prophet threatens or promises is conditioned by the reception
which his advice and command, indeed, which his suppressed yet necessary
and of themselves clear presuppositions, meet with. Accordingly, the pro-
1 Ewald's Prophets of the Old Testament, vol. i. p. 36.
2 Oehler, Theologie d. alten Testament, p. 205.
APPENDIX 45 1
phetic picture in the end is not to he judged hy its garments, but by the
meaning of the thoughts and demands which is hidden within it; and it
would be a source of constant misconception to conceive of and judge picture
and presentiment otherwise than in accordance with their own peculiar life
and nature. Jerusalem was not destroyed so soon as Micah (ch. i.-iii.) fore
boded : nevertheless, inasmuch as the same causes which provoked that
presentiment were not radically removed, the destruction did not ultimately
fail to come. Literally, Jerusalem was neither besieged nor delivered exactly
as Isaiah (ch. xxix.) foresaw: still, as he had foreseen, the city was exposed
during his lifetime to the greatest danger, and experienced essentially as
wonderful a deliverance. In the calculations (Isa. xxxii. 14 seq., comp. v. 10,
xxix. 1-8, and especially v. 17), if the words are taken slavishly, there lies a
minor contradiction, which, with a freer comparison of all the pictures as they
might exist before the mind of the prophet, it is granted, quickly disappears.
The punishment of Israel (Hos. ii.) consists in expulsion into the wilderness
(ch. iii. seq?) ; it consists rather in other things, e.g. in being driven away
to Assyria and Egypt. Yet all these presentiments were equally possible, and
contain no contradiction, unless they are confounded with historical assertions
or even express commands. As appears from Jer. xxvi. 1—19, at this period
of Jewish history a correct feeling of the true meaning of prophetic utterances
in this respect was still in existence, and they were not so misunderstood as
they were in the middle ages, and as they still are in many quarters." 1
Closely related to the partial indifference to mere chronological
relations which is seen, for example, in what is termed " the perspective
of prophecy/1 is another feature, — that of the gradual fulfilment, the
preliminary and the completed verification, of predictions. Glowing
ideals stir the soul of the prophet. The realization of them he may
connect with personages already living or soon to appear, and with
conditions with which he is conversant. In the ways anticipated by
him they have in truth a verification, but one that falls far short of the
prophetic vision. The accordance is real, but only up to a certain
point : the discordance is too great to be removed by treating the
prediction as an hyperbole. Hence the full verification is still looked
for ; and it conies. The development of the religion of Israel brings in
the complete realization of the grand idea which floated before the
prophet's mind. This is not a novel theory of prophecy, peculiar to
our day. Lord Bacon speaks of" that latitude which is agreeable and
familiar unto divine prophecies ; being of the nature of their author,
with whom a thousand years are but as one day ; and are therefore not
fulfilled punctually at once, but have springing and germinant accom
plishment throughout many ages, though the height or fulness of them
may refer to some one age.'1 2 The mind of the seer or psalmist was
illuminated, so that the plan of Jehovah in the ordering of the past
1 Ewald, p. 37.
2 The Advancement of Learning, b. ii. (Spedding's ed., vi. 200).
452
APPENDIX
course of Israel's history, and the real import of the present conjunction
of circumstances, were unveiled to his mind. From this point of view
he glanced forward, and, illuminated still by the Spirit of God, he
beheld the future unfold itself, — not, to be sure, as to the eye of the
Omniscient, but under the limitations imposed by finite powers acting
within a restricted environment. For prophetic inspiration is no
operation of magic. An apostle represents the prophets as seeking
earnestly to get at the meaning of their own prophecies, — " searching
what, or what manner of time, the Spirit of Christ which was in them
did signify,"1 etc.1
The Old Testament prophecies fall into two classes. The first em
braces the predictions of a Messianic character, especially those relating
to the kingdom and the spread of it. The second includes prophecies
of particular occurrences.
We begin with the first class of predictions. The prophets look
forward to a great salvation in the future, a period of rest and blessed
ness for the people.2 Sometimes this redemption is depicted as a great
triumph over all the enemies of Israel, when the state appears in unex
ampled glory and splendor ; the land yielding abundant fruits, and all
divine blessings being showered upon its inhabitants. In other prophe
cies the predominant feature is the moral : it is the forgiveness of sin,
the prevalence of holiness and righteousness, on which the eye is fixed.
Sometimes the great redemption is foreseen as a gift to the seed of
Abraham, the nation of Israel. But in other places the prophets take
a wider view, and describe the heathen nations as sharing in the bless
ing, and the kingdom as extending over the whole earth. Now the
Redeemer is Jehovah himself; now the hope centres in a particular
monarch, or on a class by whom the grand deliverance is to be achieved ;
and again it is a person to appear in the future, a ruler of the family of
David. The house of David is chosen to carry the kingdom to its con
summation : it stands in the relation of sonship to God. Then there is
a limitation : the great promise is to be realized from among the sons
of David. Finally, the prophetic eye fastens its gaze upon an individual
in the dim future; as in Ps. ii., where the whole earth owns the sway
of the king, who is the Son of God ; in Ps. Ixxii., where the coming and
universal sway of the Prince of peace, and the succor afforded by him
to the needy and distressed, are described; and in Ps. ex., in which the
conqueror of the earth unites with the kingly office that of an everlast
ing priesthood, — a priesthood not of the Levitical order.3 Elsewhere
(Isa. liii.) the great deliverance is expected through a suffering " servant
of Jehovah,11 who dies not for his own sins, but for the sins of the peo
ple. First, the '"servant of Jehovah11 is spoken of as Israel collectively
1 i Pet. i. ii. 2 Cf. Bleek, Einl. in d. Alt. Test., p. 329.
3 Cf. Oehler, ii. 258.
APPENDIX 453
taken, then as the holy and faithful class among the people ; and finally,
in this remarkable chapter, there is, not improbably, a farther step in
individualizing the conception, and a single personage, in whom all the
qualities of the ideal " servant" combine in a faultless image, rises
before the mind of the seer.
This glimpse of the most general outlines of Old Testament prophecy
cannot but deeply impress one who has any just appreciation of the
religion of Jesus Christ, and of Christendom even as it now is, to say
nothing of what may, not unreasonably, be expected in the future.
Under these different phases of prediction, there is one grand expecta
tion, viz., that the religion of Israel will itself be perfected, and will pre
vail on the earth. Follow back the course of prophecy, and you find
traces of this expectation — either sublime in the extreme, or foolhardy
in the extreme, as the event should prove — in the earliest records of
Hebrew history. Concede all that, with any show of reason, can be
said about the variety in the ideals and anticipations of the Hebrew
prophets, there remains enough of correspondence to them in the origin,
character, and progress of Christianity, to suggest a problem not easy to
be solved on any naturalistic hypothesis. Grant that the prophets had
an intense conviction of the reality of Jehovah, of his power, and of his
right to rule. This conviction, be it remembered, is itself to be accounted
for ; but, taking this for granted, we find in it no adequate means of
explaining the confident declaration that " the earth shall be filled with
the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea." l
Why should they not have stopped with the anticipation of the down
fall and destruction of the Pagan nations? How could they tell that
from Judaea a universal kingdom should take its rise? How could they
overcome those obstacles to such an anticipation which the actual course
of history, as it was going forward under their eyes, appeared to involve?
Let the reader imagine that, twenty-five or thirty centuries ago, the
mountain cantons of Switzerland were inhabited by tribes insignificant
in numbers and strength, while extensive and powerful empires, like
ancient Rome after the conquest of Carthage and the East, or modern
Russia, are on their borders. Suppose that the people thus imagined
to exist had a religion unique, and distinct from that of all other nations.
Yet even in times when their little territory is ravaged by vast armies,
and the bulk of its population dragged off into slavery, there arise
among them men who, with all the energy of confidence of which the
human mind is capable, declare that their religion will become universal,
that it will supersede the gorgeous idolatries of their conquerors, that
from them will emerge a kingdom which will overcome, and purify as it
conquers, all the other kingdoms of the world. And suppose, further,
that actually, after the lapse of centuries, from that diminutive, despised
1 Hab. ii. 14; cf. Oehler, ii. 196.
454 APPENDIX
tribe of shepherds and herdsmen there does spring a development of
religion which spreads, until it already comprehends all the nations
that now profess Christianity ; there does spring a Legislator and Guide
of men, whose spiritual sway is acknowledged by hundreds of millions,
and to the progress of whose reign no limit can be set : would not the
correspondence, or the degree of correspondence, between those far-off
predictions and the subsequent phenomena be a fact which is nothing
short of a miracle?
The second class of prophecies pertain to particular occurrences. In
inquiring whether they were fulfilled, we have to consider the obscurity
which, notwithstanding recent discoveries in archaeology, still belongs
to the annals of the nations contemporary with Israel. We have to
consider, moreover, that predictions of this sort were never absolute,
in the sense that God might not revoke a sentence in case repentance
should intervene. The Book of Jonah is designed partly to dispel the
error that a verdict of God, because once announced, is irreversible.
The prophets entreat that their own predictions may not be fulfilled,
and their prayers sometimes avail. Nevertheless, the instances of the
actual verification of prophecies of this kind, which could not have
sprung from any mere human calculation and foresight, are so numerous,
and of so marked a character, that the reality of a divine illumination
of the prophet's mind cannot rationally be denied.1 Such an instance
is the prophecies of Isaiah respecting the rapidly approaching downfall
of the kingdoms of Israel and Syria, which had cemented an alliance
with each other, and of the failure of their project against Judah.2
Another instance in Isaiah is the failure of the powerful army of the
Assyrian king, Sennacherib, in his siege of Jerusalem.3 Other examples
are afforded by the definite predictions of Jeremiah respecting the
return of the people from the exile. Such prophecies cannot be
referred to any shrewd forecast on the part of the seers who uttered
them. When, for example, the Syro-Israelitish alliance menaced
Judah and Jerusalem, the peril was imminent, else it would not have
been true of Ahab and of his subjects that " his heart shook, and the
heart of his people, as the trees of the forest shake before the wind.1'4
Apart from the impossibility of foretelling such events, the naturalistic
explanation presupposes a mental state in the authors of the prophecies,
which is quite diverse from the fact.
A class of critics attribute the Old Testament predictions exclusively
to natural causes. In sustaining their thesis, they seek to show that the
prophecies have failed of a fulfilment, to such an extent as to preclude
the supposition that they were the product of revelation. To this end,
as regards the general prophecies, they not only insist on attaching a
1 See Bleek, Einl in d. Alt. Test., p. 326. 3 Isa. xxxvii. 21 seq.
2 Isa. vii. 4 Isa. vii. 2.
APPENDIX 455
literal sense to passages which point to the perpetual continuance of
the nation of Israel, the final restoration of the Jews, the subjugation
of their enemies, and the like ; but they refuse to consider these features
of prophecy, which the event has not literally verified, as limitations in
the perception of the prophet, not inconsistent with his inspiration. In
other words, they commonly allow no medium between a stiff super-
naturalism, which ascribes exact verity to the form of the prophet's
vaticination, and a bald theory of naturalism. This position is unphilo-
sophical. It overlooks the fact that the vehicle of revelation is human,
and fettered, to a degree, by natural conditions which the inspiring
Spirit does not sweep away. To break through these limitations
altogether \vould be to substitute a dictation at once magical and incom
prehensible for a divine illumination adapted to the mental condition
and the environment of the recipient of it. The prophet Jeremiah
(ch. xxxiii. 18), in a memorable passage, foresees a momentous change
and advance in the religion of Israel. A "new covenant" is to be
made with "the house of Judah," — so radical is this change to be!
The law is to be written in their hearts, that is, the law is to be con
verted into an inward principle ; and there is to be a forgiveness of
sin : " I will remember their sin no more.1" These cardinal features
of the new dispensation, which Christianity, ages afterward, was to
bring in, are thus summarily set forth with impressive emphasis. Yet
the same Jeremiah says that "a man shall never be wanting to sit on
the throne of David, nor Levites to offer sacrifice on the altar.1' l " The
Jew," says Dr. Payne Smith, " could only use such symbols as he
possessed, and, in describing the perfectness of the Christian Church,
was compelled to represent it as the state of things under which he
lived, freed from all imperfections/'2 In the last chapter of the Book
of Isaiah 3 the prophet describes in an exulting strain the glorious days
when there shall be, as it were, new heavens and a new earth ; when
priests and levites shall be taken even from the Gentiles ; when the
old forms of worship, with the exception of the new moon and the
sabbath, shall have passed away ; and when " all flesh " shall worship
before Jehovah. Yet here Jerusalem is conceived of as supreme, and
the centre of worship. To break away absolutely from this conception,
inconsistent though it be with the union of " all flesh " in the adoration
of God, would have been to ascend to a point of view higher even than
that which the apostles had attained for years after they began their
ministry. Yet in these cases, according to Dr. Kuenen's method of
viewing prophecy,4 for example, the circumstance that the prophet
failed to see the future in form and detail proves that what he did see
was through his own unaided vision. This procedure implies an exclu-
1 Jer. xxxiii. 1 8. 3 Tsa. Ixvi. 20-23, cf- lxii- 2 lxv- J5-
2 Speakers Commentary, in loco. 4 In his work on Prophecy.
456 APPENDIX
sion of the natural factor from revelation and inspiration, and is of a
piece with one-sided conceptions of the supernatural in the Scriptures,
which modern theology has set aside, or which are clung to only by
rigid adherents of an obsolescent system.
With reference to prophecies of particular events, — the second class
of predictions, — the class of critics referred to are disposed to bind
the prophets too closely to the letter of their predictions ; for example,
in what they say of times and seasons. They do not allow sufficient
weight to the conditional character that belongs to this species of pre
diction where retributive inflictions are concerned. If it can be shown
that, in certain cases, prophecy failed of its accomplishment, this would
not establish their main proposition, unless it could be proved that the
cases where the prediction proved true may be considered the result of
accident, or the product of natural foresight. A marksman may hit a
target often enough to exclude the hypothesis of accident, even if he
miss it occasionally. If he thus hits the mark when he is known to be
blind, or when the target is out of sight, a miraculous guidance of the
arrow must necessarily be assumed. But exceptions to the correspond
ence of event with prediction are not easily made out. The progress of
historical research has removed difficulties in regard to some passages
that were once thought to have remained unverified ; the passage, for
example, in Isaiah, predicting the conquest of Tyre.1
The relation of the " false prophets " who condemned them may remind
us of the theory of Grote and others respecting the relation of Socrates
and Plato to the Sophists. But Crete's view of the Sophists breaks
down under his own concessions that Socrates and Plato were great
reformers ; working, not, like other teachers, for hire, but from a nobler
impulse. Socrates and Plato differed from Protagoras and his followers
in their principles, method, and spirit. But the disparity between the
true and the false prophets was more radical. That among those who
are denounced as " false prophets " were individuals not conscious of an
evil intent, or actuated by a fraudulent purpose, may be true. This is
the truth that is contained in Kuenen's view of the subject. But the
statements of Kohler, which Kuenen himself quotes, go farther. There
was a set of " false prophets," — " lying prophets,1' as they were called
by the prophets of the canon. Those pretended prophets spoke, not
by the command of Jehovah, but out of their own hearts. It was from
no irresistible impulse from within that they uttered their smooth words.
They flattered the vain hopes of kings and people. They cry u Peace!
Peace!" when there is no peace. They do not disturb the people in
their indolent self-indulgence. Frequently they are instigated by covet-
ousness and greed of gain. This class of prophets were moved by a
secular, to the comparative exclusion of a religious, spirit. It was na-
1 See Cheyne's The Prophecies of Isaiah, i. 132.
APPENDIX 457
tional power and aggrandizement, rather than truth and righteousness,
which absorbed their interest. Against this whole class the true prophets
carry on a perpetual warfare. Unless these were guilty of gross slander
and intolerance, magnifying differences of judgment into flagrant sins,
Kuenen's view of the subject is defective. On the one side stood the
"false prophets " and the people whom they deceived. But the true
prophets generally faced a resisting and persecuting public opinion.
"Who hath believed our preaching?" is their sad and indignant com
plaint. The psychological facts connected with the utterance of the
prophetic oracles reveal their nature. Was the inward call of the true
prophet — that overwhelming influence upon the soul, when the mighty
hand of God was laid upon him — a delusion? And how shall it be
explained that the prophet was often dismayed by the glimpses of the
future that burst upon his vision, that he strove to turn away from the
prospect, that he was driven to foretell what he himself dreaded, and
begged God to avert? Shall these extraordinary experiences of the soul,
so exceptional in their character, so powerful in their effect, be deemed
a morbid excitement? or resolved into a mere play of natural emotion?
Dr. Kuenen says truly that "the canonical prophets have struggled
forward in advance of their nation and of their own fellow-prophets.1'1
"Struggled forward?" Dr. Kuenen professes to be a theist. Why
should he apparently shut out the influence of the Spirit of God? Why
not, even on the theory of an uplifting of a portion of a class above
their fellows, attribute this phenomenon, which no discerning man can
fail to regard as amazing, to a special unction from above? It may be
allowed that there were natural qualifications which led to the choice of
a prophet. His mental and spiritual characteristics fitted him to be the
recipient of the divine influence. But to exclude or depreciate this
divine influence appears more congruous with the Pelagian conceptions
of deism than with a theism which recognizes God as immanent, and
ever active in the realm of the finite. Ewald has pointed out in a strik
ing way the habit of the prophet to distinguish between what was given
him and what he produced of himself, — a peculiarity which disproves
the naturalistic hypothesis, unless one is prepared to consider the prophet
a half-insane enthusiast. It is not to be thought, observes Ewald, that
because, in passages, the prophet's " own / disappears in the presence
of another /," he " really forgets himself, and begins to speak without
self-consciousness, or ends in unconsciousness and frenzy." " Neither
has his introduction of God, as speaking in the first person, sunk into a
crystallized and idle habit." " But the prophet always starts from his
own experience to announce what he has already seen in the spirit, and
again ends with his own experience. Nor in the course of his utter
ance does he ever lose the consciousness of the fine boundary lines between
the divine and the human"'1 2
1 p. 582. 2 The Prophets, etc., p. 41.
458 APPENDIX
There were criteria for distinguishing the true prophet from the spuri
ous. The prophet might work a miracle; but even this was no abso
lute proof, since the pretended prophet might at least seem to do the
same. Nor was the correspondence of the event to the prediction a
sure evidence of genuine prophecy.1 But in the genuine prophet there
was a sympathy in the depths of the soul with Jehovah and his law, and
with the purpose of God in the course of history, the goal of which he
saw in the far future. There was a power and majesty in the true
prophets, which nothing but the presence of God's spirit could impart
to them. " When the spirit of God lays hold of them, and compels
them to speak, they demand obedience to their mere word. And as, in
spite of all murmuring, the congregation of Israel in the main followed
Moses, so neither the bitter hatred of the idolatrous party in Samaria,
nor the vacillation of the king, could cripple the influence of Elijah and
Elisha.2 So Saul at the head of his victorious army dared not with
stand the word of Samuel.3 So Eli bowed himself to the divine mes
sage ; 4 and David, in the midst of all his glory, endured the rebuke of
Nathan.5 Without weapons, without the prestige derived from priestly
consecration, without learning and human wisdom, the prophets demand
obedience, and are conscious of the influence which they can exert over
the men of power in the nation." 6 "A true prophet of God, by his
prayers and his knowledge of God's will, by the warnings that he utters
against perils and false enterprises; is ( the chariot of Israel, and the
horsemen thereof; ' that is, like a shielding host of armed men." " On
the other hand, their persons are so consecrated to God that it can
naturally seem dangerous for simple mortals to come into near contact
with these men of God, who may bring their guilt to the remembrance."
Underlying Dr. Kuenen's views of prophecy is a deistic mode of
thought. There is a reluctance to admit a direct agency of God in
connection with spiritual phenomena of the most unique and impressive
character. Yet in his work he allows an immediate act of God in con
nection with the separation of Abraham and the training of Moses.8
The Deity, in his system, if he comes in at all, comes in as a dens ex
machina. Hence he finds it difficult to conceive of grades of inspira
tion, of degrees in the agency of the supernatural, of lower and higher
stages in prophetic illumination. The supposed difficulty of drawing a
sharp line between natural divination and soothsaying, and the earliest
phenomena of Hebrew prophecy, moves him to conclude that the latter,
even in its grandest manifestations, springs wholly from the unassisted
faculties of man, — which is like inferring, from the fact that we cannot
1 Deut. xiii. I seq. 2 Kings xxi. 20 seq., 27 sec.; 2 Kings iii. 13 seq.
3 I Sam. xv. 21 4 i Sam. ii. 27 seq.
5 2 Sam. xii. 13 seq.; cf. xxiv. II seq. c 2 Kings iv. 13.
7 I Kings xvii. 1 8, 24; 2 Kings iv. 9; Luke v. 8. Schultz, p. 821.
8 Kuenen, The Prophets and Prophecy in Israel, p. 579.
APPENDIX 459
nx the exact point when a boy becomes a man, that no man exists, or
that all men are boys. There is a latent postulate of a great gulf
between the natural and the supernatural. It is true that prophecy,
from lower beginings, mounted to a higher level. In the early history
of Israel methods of divination were taken up by the people from their
Canaanite neighbors. Like theism in general., like other institutions
and practices in religion, the purifying power from above worked out
the end by degrees. Some things, such as magic and sorcery, were
always prosecuted.
As a part of a deistic mode of view, the work of the prophets is con
fined by some to the origination of "an ethical monotheism." The
New Testament system is the completion of this work. Redemption,
the hope of the prophets, the hope realized in Christ, is left out in this
description of the religion of the Bible. To one who adopts this inter
pretation of the significance of the work of Christ, the links of connec
tion between the religion of the Old Testament and the religion of the
New, which the apostles perceived to exist, must appear unreal. Hence
the exposition of the Old Testament system by the New Testament
writers, their recognition of the typical character of the Old Testament
institutions and rites, and their explanation of the prophecies, must
seem to be a house built on the sand. First, there is a narrow concep
tion of prophecy, in which phraseology and form are put on a level
with the grand, living ideas which they embody. Next, there is a
narrow conception of Christianity as merely or chiefly a doctrine of
ethical monotheism. Lastly, by way of corollary, the prophets did not
prophesy, but are made by the apostles to prophesy only through a
groundless and fanciful understanding of their writings.
There are prophecies in the New Testament as well as in the Old.
The general predictions relative to the perpetuity, extension, and trans
forming influence of the Gospel, when one compares the circumstances
under which they were uttered with the subsequent history of Christian
ity down to the present day, discover a knowledge more than human.
The words of Jesus to the disciple Peter, " On this rock I build my
church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it,1' are a
declaration that, on a basis of belief in him as the Messenger and Son
of God, a community was arising which no power could destroy. Con
sider who this Peter was to whom Jesus spoke, who Jesus was, as
regards outward condition and resources, and the insignificance of his
following, and then glance at the Christian Church, advancing from its
obscure beginnings to victory over Judaic and Pagan opposition and
to its present commanding place in human society ! The prediction
that the Gospel would be like leaven in the world of mankind, like the
smallest of seeds, evolving from itself a lofty and spreading tree — who,
not possessed of a discernment more than human, could have then
foreseen that such an effect was to follow? Then there are particular
460 APPENDIX
predictions, of which the prophecy of the destruction of Jerusalem is,
perhaps, the most remarkable. The sagacity of man might have
judged that a desperate conflict was likely to break out between the
Romans and the Jews, but who could have predicted with any assurance
that city and temple would be reduced to a ruin? With this prediction,
one should connect, in his recollection, the prophecy that the vineyard
would be given out to other husbandmen, that the treasure of God's
best gifts would pass into the custody of the Gentiles. The Founder
looked forward to the death of Judaism and the birth of Christendom !
It is not to be overlooked that the prophecies which are referred to,
like prophecies in general, are not pronounced as results of calculation,
as probabilities founded on the examination of evidence on the one
side and on the other. They are uttered in that tone of absolute con
fidence which belongs to an assured insight. It is the penetrating
glance into the future of one to whom the counsels of Omniscience have
been supernaturally revealed.
INDEX OF NAMES
Abbot, Ezra, 211, 215, 220, 225, 251, 286.
Abbott, E. A., 286, 426.
Acacius, Bishop, no.
Ambrose, 430.
Anaxagoras, 59, 435.
Anselm, 26.
Ansgar, 424.
Apollonius of Tyana, 424.
Appian, 415.
Aquinas, 398.
Aristion, 227.
Aristotle, 59, 64, 123, 126, 127, 128, 387,
437- 438.
Arnold, Matthew, 143, 268.
Arnold, Thomas, 424, 431.
Augustine, 19, 93, 132, 398, 428, 429.
Avicenna, 438.
Bacon, B. W., 251.
Bacon, Francis, 451.
Bacon, Roger, 436.
Barnabas, 178.
Barth, 376.
Basilides, 253.
Baur, 247, 283, 288.
Baxter, Richard, 437.
Becket, Thomas a, 426.
Bede, 424.
Bennett and Adeney, 261.
Berkeley, Bishop, 137.
Bernard of Clairvaux, 426.
Beyschlag, 174.
Bleek, 174.
Boniface, 424.
Bowne, B. P., 405.
Bruno, 399.
Buddha, 377.
Burns, Robert, 403.
Bushnell, Horace, 175.
Butler, Bishop, 318, 407.
Caesar, Julius, 140.
Caird, E., 22, 387.
Caius, 264.
Calvin, John, 398, 419.
Carlyle, Thomas, 92, 279.
Carpenter, W. B., 51.
Ceisus, 226.
Cerinthus, 264.
Chase, F. H., 219.
Chastel, no.
Chillingworth, 322.
Chrysippus, 129.
Chrysostom, no.
Cicero, 33, 44, 139, 140, 415.
Clarke, Samuel, 26, 27.
Cleanthes, 135.
Clement of Alexandria, 206, 209, 215, 222,
223, 225, 250, 260.
Coleridge, S. T., 21, 174, 393.
Collins, 9.
Comte, 68.
Confucius, 119.
Constantine, 112, 431.
Cooke, J. P., 37.
Cowper, 436.
Cromwell, Oliver, 417.
Cudworth, R., 34.
Darwin, C. R., 37, 49, 50, 52, 53, 147, 396,
437-
Davidson, A. B., 329.
Democritus, 129.
Descartes, 2.
Dillman, 443, 444.
Dion Cassius, 415.
Dorner, I. A., 446.
Drummond, 47.
Dwight, Timothy, 275, 412.
Eckermann, 91.
Edwards, Jonathan, 93, 210.
Ephraem Syrus, 222.
Epictetus, 131, 132, 135.
Epicurus, 129.
Erskine, H., 147.
Erskine of Linlathen, 56.
Euemerus, 199, 393.
461
462
INDEX OF NAMES
Eusebius, 218, 250, 252, 257, 428.
Ewald, 270, 449, 450.
Fairbairn, A. S., 379- 398-
Fiske, John, 17, 18, 76, 399.
Flint, R., 27, 68.
Forrest, 301.
Fouillee, M., 401.
Francis of Assisi, 432.
Fraser, A. C., 22, 167, 399.
Froude, J. A., 209.
Galileo, 436.
Gibbon, E., 119, 207.
Goethe, 91.
Gray, Asa, 50, 54.
Gregory, Nyssa, 424.
Gregory, Thaumaturgus, 424.
Grote, G., 279, 393, 456.
Grotius, 178.
Guizot, 106, 431.
Gwatkin, H. M., 256.
Hamilton, Sir W., 17, 75. 84- 85.
Harnack, A., 204, 213, 218, 222, 254, 257,
264, 278, 285, 286, 308.
Harris, Samuel, 399.
Hartmann, 399.
Harvey, W., 35.
Haug, 47.
Haupt, 268, 411.
Hegel, 59, 65, 66.
Henslow, G., 40.
Herbert, T. M., 14, 81.
Hernias, 252.
Hilgenfeld, 179, 249.
Hippolytus, 215, 253, 263.
Hobbes, 8, 9.
Hofman, R., 223.
Holtzmann, H. J., 223, 295, 297.
Holzenfeld, 179, 205, 211, 215.
Hopkins, Edward, 376, 378, 379, 381,382
391-
Hort, F. J. A., 264, 277.
Humboldt, Alex, v., 440.
Hume, 6, 58, 81, 169, 317, 407.
Hutton, R. H., 91, 293.
Huxley, T. H.,7, 33, 37, 46, 5°. 52, 53, 170
172, 394, 395- 4o6.
Ignatius, 201, 261.
Irenaeus, 205, 207, 208, 209, 226, 252, 255
257, 25S.
Isocrates, 119.
ames, William, 19, 20, 21.
anet, 36, 40, 41,43.
erome, 218, 251, 258.
ohn, St., 245, 255, 259, 262, 271, 308.
ohn the Baptist, 294.
ohn, " the Presbyter," 254, 257.
osephus, 186.
ulian, Emperor, 431.
"ulicher, 249, 297, 306.
'ustin Martyr, 207, 211, 212, 217, 251, 260.
Kant, I., 13, 42, 58, 75, 83, 84, 167, 401,
447-
Keim, 144, 191, 198, 244, 249, 250.
Kepler, 35.
Koran, the, 323.
Kuenen, 455, 457, 458.
Lactantius, 431.
Ladd, G. T.,4, 32, 37,404.
La Place, 36.
Leibnitz, 398.
Lekebusch, 408.
Lightfoot, J. B., 132, 134, 179, 205, 208,
225, 227, 237, 238, 249, 252, 254, 257,
259, 260, 261, 270.
Lip si us, 224.
Livy, 415.
Locke, John, 83.
Long, A., 388.
Loofs, 196, 261, 286, 288.
Lotze, 19, 23, 166.
Lucretius, 43, 129.
Luthardt, 303.
Luther, Martin, 93, 247.
McGiffert, 205, 249, 258, 272, 287, 305.
Maine, Sir Henry, 391.
Mangold, 244, 250.
Mangold-Bleek, 211, 320.
Mansel, 81, 85, 392.
Marcion, 229, 230, 253.
Marcus Aurelius, 131, 132, 430.
Mark, St., 227.
Martineau, J., 45, 54, 57, 67.
Maurice, F. D., 427.
Maxwell, Clerk, 15.
Meyer, H. A. W., 179, 232.
Mill, J. S., 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 32, 117, 317.
Mohammed, 148.
Moses, 338.
Mozley, J. B., 156, 171, 179.
Muller, J., 16, 23.
Miiller, K. O., 393.
Muller, Max, 388.
INDEX OF NAMES
463
Napoleon, 185.
Neander, 139, 231, 240, 268, 295, 298, 319,
411, 431.
Newman, J. H., 425, 426.
Newton, John, 112.
Nicholson, 220.
Niebuhr, 432.
Nitzsch, K. I., 23.
Norton, Andrews, 211, 221, 225.
Origen, 122, 183, 207, 224, 226, 428, 443.
Owen, 48.
Paley, W., 30, 174, 238, 391.
Pantaenus, 209.
Papias, 206, 226, 227, 228, 259.
Parmenides, 398.
Pascal, 93, 447.
Paul, St., 239, 240, 241, 347, 369, 371,
373-
Paulus, 137, 199.
Peabody, F. G., 116.
Pfleiderer, 388.
Philo, 284.
Pierce, B., 34, 35.
Plato, 19, 122, 123, 124, 125, 131, 140, 437.
Plotinus, 137, 138, 398.
Plutarch, 140, 415.
Pollock, 66.
Polycarp, 252, 254, 256, 258.
Polycrates, 259.
Porphyry, 137.
Porter, F. C., 278.
Porter, N., 32.
Pothinus, 208.
Proclus, 137.
Purves, G. T., 211, 212.
Ramsay, W. M., 252, 278, 319.
Rashdall, N., 405.
Renan, 144, 149, 150, 158, 191, 201, 208,
231, 236, 280, 432.
Resch, 215, 410.
Reuss, 319.
Reville, 257, 295.
Rhys Davids, 148.
Ropes, C. J. H., 205, 215.
Rothe, Richard, 175, 411.
Royce, J., 54.
Sadler, 212.
Sainte-Hilaire, Barthelemy, 127.
Sanday, William, 211, 212, 230, 234, 284,
287, 319.
Schelling, 65, 393, 399.
Schleiermacher, 16, 174, 194, 408.
Schopenhauer, 399.
Schurer, 219, 294.
Scotus Erigena, 398.
Semisch, 211.
Seneca, 132, 134, 136.
Seth, A., 3, 401.
Shakespeare, 135.
Smith, G. A., 245, 295.
Smith, Payne, 455.
Smyth, Newman, 37.
Socrates, 30, 121, 122.
Sophocles, 70.
South, Robert, 387.
Spencer, Herbert, 6, 8, 10, 46, 70, 72, 73,
74, 76, 77, 78, 80, 81, 82, 85, 387, 389,
399-
Spinoza, 5,7, 63, 64, 67, 81, 399.
Stevens, G. B., 278, 299.
Strauss, D. F., 144, 185, 200, 320, 432.
Tacitus, 140.
Tait and Stewart, 446.
Tatian, 222.
Taylor, Isaac, 157, 430.
Taylor, Jeremy, 220.
Temple, Abp., 65, 115, 173.
Tertullian, 206, 207, 217, 253, 428.
Thayer, J. Henry, 239, 410, 412, 413.
Theophilus of Antioch, 251.
Tholuck, 240.
Trendelenburg, 32.
Tyndall, 69, 70.
Ulrici, 18, 23, 81.
Valentinus, 253.
Von Hartmann, 52.
Ward, James W., 36, 74, 75, 81, 396.
Weiss, B., 157, 229, 232, 235, 272, 299,
3*9-
Weizsacker, 271, 308.
Wendt, 241, 266, 272.
Wesley, John, 13, 437.
Westcott, B. F., 211, 234, 236.
Whewell, 46, 438.
Wild, N. L., 411.
Williams, Monier, 148.
Wundt, ii.
Xavier, Francis, 424.
Zahn, 179, 205, 208, 218, 222, 223, 227,
228, 229, 255, 264, 273.
Zeller, 170, 278.
Zeno, 129, 135, 136.
INDEX OF TOPICS
Absolute, the, significance of the term,
24 ; intuition of, 24 ; objective reality
of, 25 ; is one, 25 ; no restrictions of,
not self-imposed, 25 ; idea of, really at
the basis of Anselm's argument, 26;
Spencer's idea of, 75 ff. ; the comple
ment of the proof from design, 55.
Acta Pilati, 224.
Acts of the apostles, genuineness of the
book, on what grounds impeached,
237; adverse criticism inspired by
suspicion, 237 ; comparison of the
earlier and later portions of, 238 ;
characteristics of the author's style as
bearing on the subject, 239 ; the refer
ence to Theudas, 240; the speaking
with tongues in, 240; not disproved
by the account of the apostolic con
ference (Acts xv.), 241 ff. ; decisive
argument for the truth of this narra
tive, 243.
Agnosticism, definition of, 63; discards
personality, 72; Spencer's exposition
of, 73 ; his doctrine of salvation, 74 ;
his notion of " the Absolute " and of
"the Infinite," 75; fatal to science,
78; logical inconsistencies of, 78-81;
versus faith in the reality of knowl
edge, 77.
Alogi, the, origin, history, and tenets of,
263 ; their opinion of fourth Gospel,
264 ff.
Anselm, see Ontological Argument.
Anti-theistic theories, the principal, 63 ff.
Apocalypse, its date and origin, 277 ff.
Apocryphal Gospels, H. J. Holtzmann
on the, 223 ; Norton on the, 225.
Apollonius of Tyana, his alleged mira
cles, 424.
Apostles, credibility of the testimony of
the, 310 f. ; evinced in the fact of
their selection, and the view taken by
Jesus and by themselves of their
function, 310; from their conscious-
2H 465
ness of being witnesses, 311 ; in not
concealing instances of their own ig
norance and weakness, and the re
bukes from the master, 312; in the
frank avowal of their serious delin
quencies, 314 ; in submission to ex
treme suffering and to death for their
testimony, 316; irrational to suspect
them of dishonesty, 317 ; self-delusion,
under the circumstances, hardly less
improbable, 317; the narratives of
miracles no warrant for distrust, 317 ;
the Gospel narratives not moulded by
a doctrinal purpose, 319; alleged in
consistencies no ground for disbelief,
320 ; the portrait of Jesus drawn by
them itself a witness of its verity,
320, 435.
Arabs, science amongst them, 438; in
debtedness to Christian sources, 438.
Aristotle, compared with Plato, 126; his
Theism, 126 ; on the soul, 126 ; on the
ideal man, 127 ; his " Intellectualism,"
127; his ideal of blessedness, 127 ff.
Arnold, Matthew, on the fourth Gospel,
265; his conception of God, 401 ff.
Arnold, Dr. Thomas, on the inaccura
cies of Bede as a witness, 424.
Atticus, no.
Bacon, Lord, on prophecy, 451.
Barnabas, Epistle of, its authorship and
date, 178 f.
Becket, Thomas a, his miracles, 426.
Bible, the, and Biblical criticism, 322 f. ;
preeminence of the Bible, and its
grounds, 322; rise and progress of
Biblical criticism, 323 ; Biblical criti
cism inevitable, 324; relation of the
Bible to facts of redemption, 324 f.;
critical inquiries on Biblical history
and literature not to be deprecated,
335 ; questions relating to the Penta
teuch, 337 f. ; questions on the origin
466
INDEX OF TOPICS
of Biblical books in general, 340; its
authority and the order of things to
be believed, 343, 369.
Bible and Revelation, the; the latter in
and through redemption, 324; its
basis (in historical facts and transac
tions), 325; in the O. T. period, 325 ;
and in the Gospel period, 326 ; the
Bible, not the creation, but the prod
uct, of the Church, 328 ; the kingdom
of God the fundamental reality, 328 ;
end and aim of the kingdom, 328, see
Revelation, Gradualness of; it gives
the facts and the meaning of the facts,
332.
Brahmanism, its characteristics, 377.
Buddha, 148 ; his personal traits, 377; in
what sense an apostle of Pessimism, 380.
Buddhism, its characteristics, 377 f.
Burke, Edmund, on possible occurrence
of miracles in later ages, 427.
Bushnell, H., on the miracles of Jesus,
165.
Caesarea Philippi, the conversation at,
298 ; Neander on, 298.
Carlyle, T., letter to J. Erskine, 92 ; an
example of diversities of style, 279.
Celsus, indirect witness for the genuine
ness of the Gospels, 226.
Charity, in the early Church, not indis
criminate, 109.
China, the religion of, 373.
Christ, see Jesus.
Christianity : (i) as adapted to the needs
of the soul, 89 f. ; God thus proved to
be its author, 89; profound feeling of
need of a connection with God, 90 ;
conscious unsatisfactoriness of the
world, 90 ; wants of the soul not ap
peased by earthly good, 91 ; avowals
of Goethe to this effect, 91 ; Hutton's
comments on Goethe's avowals, 91 ;
Christianity not merely a refuge in
distress, 92 ; its relation to the sense
of unworthiness, 92 f. ; to the sense of
estrangement from God, 94; to the
consciousness of moral bondage, 94 ;
fruitlessness of efforts for self-deliver
ance, 94; the presage of judgment,
95 ; the facts of human experience
fully recognized in the Bible, 96;
Christianity brings reconciliation, 97;
brings a new life of filial union to
God, 98.
(2) its transforming influence on
society, 99 f. ; its early spread and vic
tory, not accounted for by natural
agencies, 99 ; its power not transient
or one-sided, 100; its influence grad
ual, 100 ; its influence lessened by
personal defects of individuals, 101 ;
favoring influence of race qualities,
only auxiliary, 101 ; brought in not
only a new ideal of man, but also the
power of realizing it, 101 ; inherence
of this in Jesus, 102 ; Christ's estimate
of the worth of the human soul, 102 ;
infused a new, sanctifying spirit, 103 ;
the influence of Christianity on the
family, 103 ; its influence on the state,
104 ; its promotion of liberty, 104 ; its
introduction of a higher law, 105 ; its
effect on international relations, 107 ;
its promotion of charity and kindness,
108 ; its influence against war and
slavery, inff. ; its humane influence
in literature, 113; its effects traceable
to the character and life of Jesus, 113.
(3) the ethical religious teaching of,
115 f. ; O. T. teaching carried to com
pletion in, 115; attains the qualities
of a universal religion, 116; not a
closed aggregate of precepts ; reaches
to the source of conduct within the
soul, 116; ethics and religion insepa
rable in, 116 ; criticism of its ethics in
valid, 117; does not slight particular
obligations, 117; enjoins active as
well as passive virtues, 118; religion
has the primary place in, 119; is the
religion of redemption, 119.
(4) its ethical and religious teaching
compared with the Greek philosophy,
119 ft; how Greek philosophy pre
pared for, 120 ; legal and prophetic ele
ments in Greek philosophy, 120; the
spirit and teaching of Socrates, 120 ff. ;
defects in his conception of virtue,
121 ; Plato, his spirit and his teach
ings, 122 ; his conception of virtue,
124; Aristotle, his spirit and teach
ings, 126; subsequent decline of spec
ulation, 128 ; the theology and ethics
of Epicurus, 129; Stoicism, its two
forms, 129 ; its materialistic Pan
theism, 129; origin of its ethics, 130;
its cosmopolitanism, 131; Roman
Stoicism, 131 ; the teaching of Sen
eca and its sources, 132 ; relation of
INDEX OF TOPICS
46;
stoicism to Christian teaching, 1.33 f. '
new Platonism, its characteristics, j
137 ft'. ; slender practical resources of
philosophy in contrast with Chris
tianity, 139 f. ; the teaching of Plato
compared with that of Jesus, 141.
(5) its relation to other religions,
371 f. ; classification of religions, now
studied in a sympathetic spirit ; the
verifiable sanctions of Christianity a
distinguishing mark, 372 ; Christianity
the absolute religion, 372; is the
revelation of God, 372; the knowl
edge of Him wanting or inadequate
elsewhere, 373 f. ; defeat of Moham
medan Monotheism, 374; course of
Monotheism through Polytheism to
Pantheism, 376; Brahmanism, pan
theistic and ascetic, 377 ; character
istics of Buddhism, 377 f.; its merits
and their limits, 379; alleged parallel
ism between the religions of India
and the Gospel, 381 f. ; the exalted
excellence of Christian doctrine, 382;
fitness of Christianity to be the reli
gion of mankind, 383 f. ; Hebrew
Monotheism, its unique elevation,
383 ; the outcome of the O. T. religion
in Christianity, 385; the sources of
both in revelation, 386.
Chrysostom, exhorts to charity to those
in need, no.
Cicero, discrepancies in the accounts of
his death, 416.
Cicero, his theoretical, as contrasted with
his practical, philosophy, 139 f.
Clarke, Samuel, see Ontological Argu
ment.
Clement of Alexandria, on the authorship
of the Gospels, 206, 209 ; refers to the
Gospel of the Egyptians, 225.
Comte, 67 ; his law of successive states,
68, see Anti-theistic Theories.
Conscience, its power to inflict pain, 403 ;
a revelation of the authority and will
of God and of His holiness, 175.
Consciousness, its relation to physical
states, 69.
Cosmological argument, 27.
Council at Jerusalem, the, Keim, Weiz-
sacker, Meyer, Wendt on, 244; ac
count of it in the Acts of the apos
tles, 241.
Cromwell, discrepancies in historical
accounts respecting, 417.
Darwin, on variability and design, 49, 396 f.
Decalogue, the, 384.
Descartes, see Ontological Argument.
Design, the argument from, 30 f. ; the
character of this argument, 30 f. ;
a priori basis of the argument, 32;
distinction between "order " and " de
sign." 35; evinced in the rationality
of Nature, 33 ; belief in, the road to
scientific discovery, 35; manifest in
the structure of plants, 37 ; involved
in the definition of organism, 37;
discovered in the human frame, in
the relation of the sexes, in the rela
tion of the family to the state, of the
state to the kingdom of God, 38 ;
objections to the argument from, ex
amined, 38; implied in uses, the
cause of adaptations, 40; Kant's
criticism of the argument from, 42;
the hypothesis of " chance " untena
ble, 43; the bearing of evolution on
the argument from, 45 ; the argu
ment strengthened by the Darwinian
doctrine, 46; particular instances of,
consistent with evolution, 47 ; gradu-
alness of development, consistent
with, 48 ; not disproved by " mechan
ism," 49; not weakened by the phe
nomena of variability, 49 ; objection
from lack of ideal perfection in or
ganisms, 53 ; complement of the
argument from, in the intuition of
the Absolute, 55 ; personality not ex
cluded by infinitude, 60, see also
Moral Argument, Historical Argu
ment, Cosmological Argument.
Didache, the, on caution in the bestowal
of alms, 109; its use of the fourth
Gospel, 252.
Discrepancies in the Gospels, 413 f.
Egyptian religion, the ancient, 374.
Egyptians, Gospel of the, 225.
Epictetus, his humane spirit, 131, 135.
Epicurus, his principles, 129.
Ethics, the gradual revelation of Chris
tian, see Revelation, the Gradual-
ness of.
Eusebius, on the Diatesseron, 222; his
extracts from Papias on the Gospels,
227 ; the silence of, 227, 252 ; on
Papias and the apostle John, 257;
on the reception of the fourth Gospel,
250.
468
INDEX OF TOPICS
Evil, problem of, 307 f. ; views of Hurne,
Augustine, Aquinas, Calvin, Leib
nitz, Fairbairn, 397 f. ; evil not the
necessary means of the greatest good,
exclusion of evil by divine interfer
ence from the best system possibly
harmful, 398.
Ewald, on the language of the fourth
Gospel, 270; on the characteristics of
prophecy, 450 f.
Fichte, his system, 65.
Fiske, John, on Spencer's modifications
of opinion, 77.
Fourth Gospel :(i) authority of the, 245 f. ;
career of the apostle John, 245; the
apostolic authorship until recently
undisputed, 245 ; the controversy re
specting, 247 f. ; Baur's conception of
the, 248 ; date of the Gospel pushed
back by critics more and more, 249 ;
the weight of external proof by the
apostolic authorship conceded, 250;
the early historic testimonies for the
apostolic authorship, 250; inference
from its use by the Gnostics, 253 f. ;
report of Irenaeus concerning Poly-
carp, 254 f. ; the rejection of, by the
Alogi, 263 f. ; theory of authorship by
a disciple or disciples of the apostle,
265 ; hypothesis of a partition be
tween two authors, 265 ; examination
of Wendt's partition, 266 f. ; Neander
on the partition-theory, 268 ; this ex
cluded by John xxi. 24, 269; the
author a Palestinian Jew, 270 f. ; its
special relation to one apostle, 271 ;
his name not mentioned, why ? 271;
virtually an autobiography, 274 ; the
author's personal love of Jesus, 275 ;
pathetic touches in references to
Jesus, 275; his manner of referring
to the Jews, 276 ; comparison of,
with the apocalypse, 277 ; frequent
literary misjudgments on internal
grounds, 278 ; theory of allegorical
fictions in, 279 f. ; the view of mira
cles erroneously imputed to the
author, 283; theology not borrowed
from Alexandrian Jewish philosophy,
284 f. ; Harnack on this erroneous
theory, 285 f . ; Loofs on the same,
286 f.
(2) frequent overestimate of the rel
ative authority of Mark, 290; a
subjective element in the fourth
Gospel, but not impairing its sub
stantial verity, 290 f. ; prolonged
Judean ministry of Jesus, 291 ; the
cleansing of the temple, 292; the
date of the crucifixion, 292; the rela
tion of John the Baptist to Jesus
truthfully set forth in the fourth Gos
pel, 294 f. ; the mode of the revela
tion by Jesus of his Messiahship
truthfully described in the fourth
Gospel, 298 f. ; common misinterpre
tation of the conversation at Coesarea
Philippi, 298, 300; the discourses of
Jesus in the fourth Gospel in their
substance historically probable, 301 f. ;
at the basis the same theological
teaching in the Synoptics as in the
fourth Gospel, 304; the Gospel
without a parallel in pseudonymous
writings of the period, 305 f. ; pre
dominant influence of the apostle
and his teaching, back of the gospel,
upon its contents, affirmed by Weiz-
sacker and by Harnack, 307 f. ; in the
choice between two hypotheses, that of
the unity, and apostolic authorship of
the Gospel entitled to acceptance, 309.
Francis of Assisi, the character of the
biographies by his followers, 432; sort
of miracles ascribed to him, 433 f . ;
the stigmata of, 434.
Fraser, A. C., on succession in nature,
and personal agency, 167; on the
spread of Pantheism, 398.
Froude, J. A., on Irenaeus, 209.
Genesis, book of, moral and religious
value of the early chapters, 338 ; the
first chapter of, origin of the accounts
of creation, 442; on the destiny of
man, 445.
God, his self-revelation in the soul of
man, i f . ; revealed in self-conscious
ness, 16 ; in the law of conscience, 16 ;
through feeling and affection and
aspiration, 18 ; concurrence of the
will involved in faith in, 20; faith
in, obscured by sin, 21; presentiment
of, 22 ; arguments for his being, 24, ff. ;
ultimate source of belief in, 24; the
unity of, 29 ; revelation of, in nature,
recognized by the apostles, 163 ; in
fluence of this prior revelation as
preparatory, 163 ; the two revelations
INDEX OF TOPICS
469
consistent, 163; the Gospel not an
afterthought, 164, see Ontological Ar
gument, Cosmological Argument,
Argument from Design, Moral Ar
gument, Historical Argument.
Gospel, Fourth, see Fourth Gospel.
Gospels, the, as an authentic record of
the apostles' testimony, 204 f. ; not
discredited by the miraculous element
in, 204 f. ; their genuineness shown as
in the case of other ancient writings,
204; universal acceptance of, in the
closing part of the second century,
205 ; patristic and other testimonies to
their genuineness, 205, f. ; testimony
of Irenaeus, 205; of Clement of
Alexandria, 206; of Tertullian, 206;
attested by the Muratorian Canon,
206 ; the witnesses named, representa
tive men, 207; credibility of Irenseus,
208 f. ; apocryphal Gospels not rivals
of, 222 ; indirectly proved from their
use by the Gnostics, 224 f. ; Celsus as
a witness for them, 226; Papias on
the origin of Mark and Matthew,
227 ; Marcion as indirect witness for
Luke's Gospel, 229 f. ; testimony of
its author, 230; internal evidence in
the Synoptics of their genuineness,
231 ; proof of their early date from
the eschatological discourse of Jesus,
231 f. ; their substantial integrity, 335 ;
respecting discrepancies in, 413 f.
Gospels, the synoptical, internal proofs
of the early date of, 231 ; compara
tively small differences concerning,
among judicious critics, 334 f. ; the
character and design of, 289.
Gradualness of revelation, see Revela
tion, Gradualness of.
Gregory, Thaumaturgus, his alleged
miracles, 424.
Guizot, on the fate of the world had
Christianity not appeared, 106; on
the alleged miracle at Jerusalem in
Julian's time, 431.
Gwatkin, Prof., on Irenaeus and Poly-
carp, 286.
Hamilton, Sir W., on the relativity of
knowledge, 84.
Harmonists, the, their proper function,
417; abuse of this function, 418.
Haupt, on the discourses of Jesus in the
fourth Gospel, 218.
Hebrews, Epistle to the, authorship of,
178.
Hegel, his system, 65 ; assumption of,
66; Neo-Hegelianism,66.
Historical argument for the being of
God, 57 f. ; a providential and moral
order in history, 60.
Holtzmann, H. J., on the apocryphal
Gospels, 223.
Hutton, his remarks in Goethe, 91.
Idealims, objective, spread of, 404 f.
Immortality, belief in, connected with
belief in God, 20; gradual revelation
of, see Revelation, the Gradualness
of.
India, the religions of, 376 f.
Irenaeus, his testimony to the Gospels,
205 f. ; date of his birth, 205 ; his cred
ibility, 208 f.; his reference to Pa
pias, 226 ; to elders, contemporaries
of Papias, 252 ; his reminiscences of
Polycarp, 254 ; his various links of
connection with the apostle John,
254-
James, Protevangelium of, 224.
Jesus, his consciousness of a supernatu
ral calling, and its credibility, 142 f.;
lack of sanity or of holiness implied
in the contrary supposition, 145; his
claims not aided by social position,
146; without parallels in the history
of religions, 147 ; mental disorder
actually inferred by some, 149 ; his
words and actions consonant with
his claims, 150; his freedom from the
temper of an enthusiast, 151 ; his
sinlessness not incapable of proof, 152 ;
his virtue tried by temptation, 152;
his perfect character justly deduced
from the Gospels, 153; the estimate
of his character by his enemies, 153 ;
and by impartial observers, 154; and
by his intimate associates, 154 ; com
pared with St. Paul, 156; untenable
criticisms of his character, 157 f . ;
the consciousness of his calling not
wavering in the severest ordeals,
159 f. ; his sinlessness in probative
force equivalent to a miracle, 161 f. ;
H. Bushnell on the miracles of, 165 ;
deprecates the appetite for miracles,
177 ; voluntary limits of his knowl
edge, see Revelation, the Gradualness
470
INDEX OF TOPICS
of, see Christianity as adapted to the
Needs of the Soul, see also Christian
ity, its Transforming Influence on So
ciety.
Job, the book of, its character and lesson,
355-
John the apostle, facts in the tradition
respecting him, 245 ; the fact of his
residence at Ephesus, 259 ; Loofs on
his influence on Ignatius and in Asia
Minor, 286; external testimony (John
xxi.), 262.
John the Baptist, his relation to Jesus,
294.
John, the Gospel of, Neander and Strauss
on its unity, 268, see Fourth Gospel.
John the Presbyter, not confounded
with John the apostle, 254 f. ; what
is known of him, 259 f.
Jonah, the book of, its character and
lesson, 352.
Julius Caesar, his disbelief in a future
life, 140.
Justin Martyr, his personal history, his
Memoirs, 211 f.; his numerous quota
tions from the canonical Gospels,
211 f. ; why fewer references in Justin
to fourth Gospel, 213 f. ; his doctrine
of the divinity of Christ dependent on
the fourth Gospel, 214; few references
in Justin without parallels in canonical
Gospels, 215 ; familiar with older con
temporaries, 217 ; his alleged use of
the Gospel of the Hebrews and Gos
pel of Peter, 218 f. ; same designation
of the Gospels by him as in Irenasus,
221; his evidence confirmed through
Tatian, 222.
Kant, his view of the absolute, 25; his
criticisms of the argument of design,
42; the sceptical implications of his
theoretical system, 83 ; his practical
system, 84.
Keim, on the miracle at Jericho, 191 ; on
the resurrection of Jesus, 198.
Kingdom of God, see Bible, the, and
Bible and Revelation, the.
Knowledge, the reality of, as affected
by the ideas of Locke, Berkeley,
Hume, Kant, 84; Hamilton and
Mansel,86; J. S. Mill, 86; alterations
of philosophy excluded by acceptance
of, 88.
Krishnaism, its tenets, 382.
Kuenen, his method of viewing prophecy,
455- 457, 458.
Lightfoot, J. B., on Epictetus and the dis
courses of Christ, 132 ; the " elders "
in Irenoeus, 207; on the silence of
Eusebius, 227 ; on the truthful charac
ter of the Acts, 238 ; on the date of
the fourth Gospel, 249; on Philip of
Hierapolis, 259 ; the " later school of
John," 260; the reference of Ignatius
to the apostle John, 261.
Locke, John, on the source of knowledge,
83-
" Logia " of Matthew, significance of the
term, 228 f.
Loofs, on the humanity of Christ as
shown in the fourth Gospel, 288.
Lotze, on the Relation of Miracles to
Nature, 166.
Mansel, on the Agnosticism of Spencer, 81.
Marcion, Tertullian on, 230.
Marcus, Aurelius, his cosmopolitan
ethics, 131 f., 135.
Mark, the Gospel of, Papias on, 227; the
Fathers on its relation to Peter, 227-
frequent overestimate of its relative
authority, 290.
Materialism, definition of, 78, 68; con
futed, 69 f. ; self-destructive, 70 ; theory
of psycho-physical parallelism, 71.
Matthew, Gospel of, Papias on the, 227.
Maurice, on possible occurrence of
miracles in later ages, 427.
Mill, J. S., his modification of Positivism,
68 ; his revival of Hume's specula
tions, 61 ; his criticism of Christian
ethics, 117.
Miracles, view taken of them in the last
century, how modified, 164; their
design, 165; H. Bushnell on this
topic, 165 ; the possibility of, ques
tioned from an untheistic conception
of Nature, 165; not an irruption into
the system of Nature, 165 ; Lotze on
this erroneous idea, 166; room for
them under more correct conceptions
of Nature ; presuppose the immanence
of God, 167 ; analogies in the action of
the human will on Nature, 168 ; their
credibility, 168 f. ; fallacies in Hume's
reasoning against ; proofs of them,
168 ff. ; Huxley's modification of
Hume's position, 170; Mozley, on
INDEX OF TOPICS
471
the evidential function of, 171 ; true
significance of the " Order of Nature,"
173 ; the relation of the miracles to in
ternal evidence,i74; the precedence of
the internal evidence, 175 ; answer of
miracles to a rational expectation, 176 ;
evidence from and internal evidence
mutually cooperative, 177 ; appetite
for, deprecated by Jesus, 177 ; evidence
for, independently of special inquiries
respecting the Gospels, 178 f. ; the
apostles professed to work, 178 f. ; in
junctions of Jesus not to report, 180 ;
cautions by Jesus against excessive
esteem of, 182 ; teaching of Jesus in
separable from, 183 ; excited contro
versy when wrought on the Sabbath,
185 ; attributed to Satanic influence,
185 ; reference by Jesus to disregard
of, in certain towns, 186; proof of,
from the connection of faith with them,
187 ; proof from particular circum
stances in the narration of them, 188 ;
not true that at that time occasioned
no surprise, 188 ; proof from the ascrib
ing of none to John the Baptist, 188 ;
from none ascribed to Jesus before
his public ministry, 189 ; from the per
sistence of faith in Jesus, and of his
faith in himself, 189 ; character of the
reasoning of Strauss against the nar
ratives of, 190 ; inseparable from the
nexus of occurrences, 190 f. ; the fact
of, established by the proofs of the
resurrection of Jesus, 192 f.; evidence
of this from the concessions of dis
believers in, 199.
Miracles, heathen and ecclesiastical, con
trast of miracles of the Gospel with,
421 f . ; the former without the evi
dence of the latter, 421; Gospel mira
cles attest the fact of revelation, 421 ;
lower end of the former, 421 ; Gospel
miracles not in coincidence with a
prevailing system, 422; without the
incentives to fraud in tales of ecclesi
astical miracles, 423 ; these last often
explicable by natural causes, 423;
these and pagan miracles as a rule
related by incompetent witnesses,
424; not so the Gospel miracles,
425; none of the Gospel miracles
merely tentative, 425 ; alleged mira
cles at the tomb of Abbe Paris, 425 ;
ecclesiastical miracles often gro
tesque ; miracles in apocryphal Gos
pels, 426; alleged miracles of St.
Bernard, 426 ; dignity of the Biblical
miracles, 426 ; possible occurrence of
miracles in later ages, 427 ; those re
lated by Augustine examined, 428 f. ;
Constantine, his vision of the cross,
431 ; alleged miracle at Jerusalem in
Julian's time, 431 ; Gospel narratives
contrasted with biographies of the
saints, Niebuhr on this subject,
431 ; character of the disciples of
St. Francis, 432; examples of the
miracles ascribed to him, 434; his
stigmata, 434 ; miracles related by
the Fathers, the earlier less marked
and numerous, 428; counter evi
dence from the same fathers who
relate them, 428 ; mostly such as
may spring from mistake, 428 ; in
crease of, in the Nicene Age, with
increased credulity, 428 ; Bede, his
inaccuracy as a witness, 424; Dr.
Thomas Arnold on, 424; Gregory
Thaumaturgus, his alleged miracles,
424; Xavier, St. Francis, his alleged
miracles, 424; Apollonius of Tyana,
his alleged miracles, 424; Newman,
J. H., on the competence of the wit
nesses to Gospel miracles, 425 ; E. A.
Abbot, on Becket's miracles, 426;
Maurice, on possible recurrence of, in
later ages, 427 ; Edmund Burke and
Neander on the same, 427.
Miraculous conception, the, the Gospel
narratives of, 318.
Mohammed, 148 ; religion of, the, 375 f.
Montanists, the, 264.
Moral argument, the, for the being of
God, 55 ; a branch of the argument
of design, 55; the problem of evil as
related to, 56 ; verified by one's own
moral constitution, 57 ; the world like
man for a moral purpose, 62, see
also Design.
Muratorian canon, on the authorship
of the Gospel, 206.
Mythology and myths, their nature and
origin, 392 f.
Nature, succession in, a manifestation of
personal agency, 167 ; sense of its
beauty and sublimity in the Hebrew
Scriptures, 440; unity of, presup
posed in the Scriptures, 440; re-
4/2
INDEX OF TOPICS
garded in them as a system, 441;
natural causes recognized in them,
in the Bible, 441 ; and laws, 442 ; re
ligious bearings of, in the Bible, 442 ;
in the Bible, the physical system not
an end in itself, 446. See Genesis.
Neader, on the eschatological teaching
of Christ, 231 f. ; on the reference to
Theudas in Acts, 240 ; on the partition
theory relative to the fourth Gospel,
268 ; on the possible occurrence of
miracles in later ages, 427 ; on alleged
miracle at Jerusalem in Julian's time,
43i-
Necessity, doctrine of, 5 f., see also Self-
determination.
Newman, J.W., on the competence of the
witnesses to the Gospel miracles, 425.
Niebuhr, on the miracles in the Gospels,
431-
Nirvana, see Buddhism, 378.
Norton, Andrews, on Justin's Memoirs,
221.
Ontological argument, 26 f.
Paley, his estimate of proof from mira
cles, 174.
Pantheism, definition of, 63 ; the system
of Spinoza, 63, ideal Pantheism of the
German schools, 65 ; confuted, 66 ;
excludes choice, responsibility, 67 ; of
Plotinus, 138 ; its prevalence in the
past and present, 398.
Papias, used the first Epistle of John,
213; his statements relative to Mark
and Matthew, 227.
Paris, Abbe, alleged miracles at his tomb,
425-
Pa,triarchal era of Hebrew history, 337.
Paul the apostle, his censure of Peter,
242; the circumcision of Timothy,
243 ; on the character of O. T. re
ligion, 347; on the relation of law
and gospel, 347; his enlightenment
progressive, 369; on religious ideas
and yearnings of the heathen, 371,
373-
Paulus, on the Biblical narratives of mir
acles, 199.
Payne Smith, on the limitations of the
prophet, 455.
Pentecost, the speaking with tongues at,
240.
Personality, the defining characteristics
of, 2 ; of God and that of man asso
ciated in belief, 17 ; consistent with
infinitude, 60, consciousness of, the
citadel of Theism, 61.
Peter the apostle, and Cornelius, 242;
censured by Paul, 242.
Philo, the roots of his system, 284.
Plotinus, his relation to preceding phi
losophers, 137 ; his pantheistic con
ception, 138.
Plato, his elevated tone, 122; his con
ception of God, 122 ; on divine prov
idence, 123; on human destiny, 123;
on redemption, 124; on virtue, 124;
merits and shortcomings of the Re
public, 125.
Polycarp, not misunderstood by Ire-
naeus, 254 f.
Polytheism, disproof of, 29; error in,
truth in, 29.
Positivism, definition of, 63; inconsistent
tenets of, 67 ; how modified by J. S.
Mill, 68.
Prologue of fourth Gospel, Wendt on,
267; Harnack on, 286; Loofs on,
288.
Prophecy, furnishes an argument for
revelation, 447; prediction not the
Hebrew prophet's principal function,
447; limits of prophetic anticipation,
448 ; qualifications of the O. T.
prophet, 448 ; events predicted beyond
human foresight, 449 ; chronology as
regards prophecy, 450 ; perspective of,
451 ; gradualness of its fulfilment, 451 ;
two classes of O. T. prophecy, 452;
that relating to the kingdom of God,
452 f. ; this gives evidence of inspira
tion, 453 ; of particular occurrences,
454 ; its verity evident when the limi
tations of the prophet are recognized,
455 ; conditional character of predic
tions, 456; "false prophets," 456;
criteria of the true prophet, 458;
deistic view of prophecy, 459; prophe
cies in the N. T., 459; predictions
of Jesus, 459.
Providence, divine, progress in the reve
lation of, see Revelation, the Gradual-
ness of.
Psalms, imprecations in the, 363.
Pseudonymous works, their style, 305.
Ramsay, W. M., his comparison of
earlier and later portions of Acts,
INDEX OF TOPICS
473
238 ; on the authorship of the Apoc
alypse, first Epistle of John and the
fourth Gospel, 252, 278.
Reality of knowledge, a fundamental
question, 82 f. ; its acknowledgment
the rescue of philosophy, 88.
Reformation, the, and Biblical criticism,
323-
Reid, his doctrine of " common sense,"
83-
Religion, the origin of, right method of
inquiry concerning, 386; in the first
parents of the race, 387; views of,
inculcated by the deists, 387 ; empir
ical explanations of, 388 ; the philo
logical theory, 388 ; Animism, 388 f. ;
Spencer's theory of ancestor-worship,
389; his earlier views, 390; degen
eracy in, possible, 390; attributed to
marks of design, 391 ; not the prod
uct of intellectual curiosity, 392;
myths, their nature, 392.
Renaissance, the, and Biblical criticism,
322.
Renan, on the enthusiasm of Jesus, 149 f. ;
on the miracle at Bethany, 191 ; on
" seeming " miracles of Jesus, 201 ;
imputes to Jesus conscious fraud, 201 ;
on the authorship of the Acts, 231 ;
on the text of the Gospels, 336; on
marks of truth in narratives in fourth
Gospel, 280 f.
Resurrection, the, of Jesus, proof of,
192 ff. ; the " vision theory " of, 198 f.
Revelation, the gradualness of, declared
by Jesus, 344 ; not, however, a natural
process, 345; relation of the law
to the Gospel, 347; progress in the
conception of God, 348 ; in the doc
trine of divine providence, 350 ; re
specting the origin of evil, 351 ; in the
disclosure of the mercy of God, 352 ;
in the disclosure of His righteous
government, 353 f. ; in reference to the
future life, 356 f. ; respecting the true
nature of sacrifice, 359 ; in reference to
the Messianic idea, 361 ; advance of
the Gospel on the ethics of the O. T.,
362 f. ; in teaching concerning di
vorce, 365 ; progress within the later
revelation, 366; progress in the devel
opment of Jesus, 366; limits of his
knowledge, in statu humiliationis,
366 f.; his further teaching after his
resurrection, 368 ; the knowledge of
the apostles, progressive, 369 ; the
Bible, in what sense the rule of faith
and conduct, 370.
Reville, on Irenaeus, 257.
Rothe, on the place of miracles in Chris
tian evidences, 175 ; on the idea of
Christ in the fourth Gospel, 411.
Sacrifice, development of its true nature
in the Scriptures, 359.
Schelling, his system, 65.
Schleiermacher, on the witness of the
apostles to the resurrection of Jesus,
194 ; on the logia of Matthew, 228.
Science, natural, hostility to, in the name
of religion, 438 ; cause of this spirit,
437 f. ; its progress not really hindered
by it, genesis and geology, 436 ; eman
cipation of, 438 ; epochs in this, 438 ;
opposition to, not the fault of Chris
tianity, 439 ; pioneers in, often Chris
tians, 439; said to reduce man to
insignificance, 447.
' Self (the "Ego"), intuition of, 2.
Self-consciousness, consciousness of God
involved in, 16, see also Self.
Self-determination, a condition of self-
consciousness, 3 ; a fact of conscious
ness, 3; involved in "choice," 3; not
governed by causal antecedents, 4;
" influence " not thereby excluded, 4 ;
sense of freedom in, not delusive, 6 ; a
presupposition of praise and blame,
7 ; and of just " penalty," 8 ; argument
against, from law of cause and effect,
9 ; and from the demand of " psy
chology," ii ; not subversive of " the
order of nature," 12; purpose insepa
rable from, 13; consistent with the
doctrine of conservation of energy,"
14; consciousness of moral law con
nected with, 15; limit of, imposed by
conscience, 16.
Sermon on the Mount, in Matthew and
Luke, 419.
Sinlessness of Jesus, proof of, see Jesus,
his Consciousness, etc.
Smith, George Adam, his description of
Galilee, 245.
Socrates, his recognition of a higher
authority than the state, 104 ; on the
soul, 120; on God and providence,
121 ; future life, 121, virtue, 121 f.
Spencer, Herbert, see Agnosticism, Evo
lution, Religion, Origin of, Later con-
474
INDEX OF TOPICS
cessions of, 77 ; blends Positivism
with Pantheism, 81 ; how related to
Hume and J. S. Mill, 86.
Spinoza, his system, 63.
Stoicism, its two types, 129; the primitive
type, 129 ; Roman, 129, 131 ; its
materialistic fatalism, 129; its ethical
maxim, 130; its doctrine of " prefer-
ables," 130; points of contrast with
the Gospel, 134 f., see Christianity,
Ethical and Religious Teaching of.
Strauss, character of his reasoning against
the Gospel narratives of miracles,
190, 200; his mythical theory, 200;
his spirit that of an advocate, 320;
sophistical reasoning of his school,
413-
" Supernatural," sense of the term, 162.
Tatian, his Diatesseron, 222.
Temple, Dr., Archbishop of Canterbury,
on miracles, 65, 173.
Tendency theory of the Gospels, 320.
Tertullian, on the authorship of the Gos
pels, 206.
Thayer, Dr. J. H., on the honesty of the
author of the Acts, 239 ; on the credi
bility of the book of the Acts, 241.
Theism, definition of, i.
Tyndall, on the relation of the brain to
consciousness, 69.
Unconditioned, the, see Absolute, the.
Variability, as an element in evolution,
40 ; its relation to the proof of design,
49 f., see Darwin.
Wendt, his theory of a partition of the
fourth Gospel examined, 266 f.
Will, freedom of, 3 f. ; exercise of, in
volved in faith in God, 20, see also
Self-determination.
Xavier, St. Francis, his alleged miracles,
424.
Zeller, Edward, on the Alogi, 246 ; ad
mits error respecting the " Leges,"
278.
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