I have before observed that the work from which the above passage is taken, although entitled “Supernatural Religion, or an inquiry into the reality of Divine Revelation,” is really an attack on the central position of the New Testament, the historical value of the Gospels. In taking this course the author raises an intelligible issue instead of spreading the argument over an endless mass of controversial matter. If the historical character of the Gospels cannot be maintained, the whole controversy as to whether Christianity is a divine revelation is ended. This forms the key of the Christian position, to which the other parts of the controversy stand in the relation of mere outworks. If the events recorded in the Gospels are historical, Christianity must be a divine revelation, notwithstanding the difficulties connected with certain statements of the Old Testament. The real point at issue between those who believe and those who deny that God has made a supernatural revelation of Himself, is confined to the following question: Are the contents of the Gospels historically credible? Is the character of Jesus Christ as depicted in them the delineation of an ideal conception or of an historical reality? The author discerns clearly that this is the turning point of the controversy, and has accordingly addressed himself to prove that the Gospels are valueless as historical documents. This line of argument is candid, and one which, if adhered to, will save an immense expenditure of reasoning power.

I now return to the consideration of the difficulties above referred to. It is important to take a careful survey of the entire question, because they are not only put with great force in the passage which I have quoted, but I believe that in different forms they weigh heavily on the minds of many thoughtful men. I will first offer a few observations on the general principle.

If there be a God who is the Creator of the Universe, it is clear that He must have been the Creator of man, and that man could only have come into being in conformity with His pleasure. Now, if we decline to admit that man was created morally perfect, yet as he must have been created a moral agent, it is clear that the first man must have sprung into being either with the moral faculties of a savage, or in some intermediate condition between these and a state of moral perfection. It follows, therefore, that man must have been made capable of moral progress. This is affirmed by all those who assert that he was first produced in a savage state. But the possibility of moral progress involves also the possibility of retrogression. The truth of this is borne witness to by the most palpable facts of daily experience. Men of the highest mental powers are capable of abusing them to the worst purposes, and thus of sinking fearfully low in the moral scale. The case of a man like Fouché will illustrate my argument, a man gifted with high intellectual powers, but who sunk into the lowest condition of moral turpitude. Such a man is incomparably worse than the first original savage. I submit, therefore, that whatever view we may take of the condition in which man was originally created, even if he were created a savage, yet he was made a moral being capable of elevation or degradation; and that, to use a human metaphor, the purpose of a holy God must have been his elevation. Yet this involves the possibility of his moral degradation. This degradation has also become a fact. It is clear, therefore, that the difficulty is one which is inseparable from every possible form of theistic belief, and is no peculiarity of Christianity.

I shall not attempt to enter on so profound a question as the origin of evil, and how its existence is consistent with the perfection of a holy God. It is a subject quite beyond the issue before us, and lies not at the foundations of Christianity, but of theism, the truth of which is taken for granted in the objections which the author adduces against the popular view of the scriptural account; for if there is no God the objections are valueless. Still he ought to have informed his readers that it is urged as a partial explanation of those difficulties by the defenders of Christianity, that it is highly probable that the creation of a moral being possessed of free agency, but who at the same time is not capable of sinking into a state of moral degradation, involves as great a contradiction as the conception of a circle which should possess the property of concavity and not of convexity. No rational man believes that it is within the compass, even of omnipotence, to work contradictions. If this be so, it follows that the possibility of the existence of moral evil is a necessary condition of the existence of free agency. The production of a free moral agent capable of yielding a willing obedience to the moral law is a more glorious work than anything in the material universe, even than that universe itself. It might, therefore, have been the good pleasure of the wise, holy, and benevolent Creator to create free moral agents, even if it involved the existence of moral evil. I am far from propounding this as a complete solution of the difficulty, but when it is thus used unsparingly against Christianity, it would have been only candid to have told the reader that it bore with equal weight against every form of theism, and to have given the partial explanation which has been propounded by theologians.

Nor are the views of the other writers of the New Testament different. St. Peter tells us that the angels desire to look into the redemption wrought by Christ. St. James assures us that, “known unto God are all His works from the foundation of the world.” The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews speaks to the same effect: “God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in times past unto the fathers in (by) the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us in His Son.” So far from its being the idea of the sacred writers that redemption is an afterthought designed to remedy the failure of the original purpose of creation, that both of them are viewed as parts of the same whole; both are purposes which have existed in the divine mind during the eternal ages, and have been gradually evolved in time. Nothing is further from their mind than that the divine mode of working is by fits or starts, or sudden interventions. Man was the last form of life which God has introduced into the world, and in that sense He is said to have rested from His creative work. But God is no less distinctly affirmed to be always working in nature and in providence, so that Sabbath days form no exception: “My Father worketh hitherto and I work.”

It follows, therefore, that the New Testament affirms that a purpose is consistently carried out in the history of redemption far different from that which has been here placed before us as the assumptions of Ecclesiastical Christianity. The author has placed these in their most objectionable form; and if Christian apologists have affirmed on such premises as those above stated that a divine interposition was rendered probable, I shall not attempt to defend them. To establish the probability of a revelation additional to that afforded by creation we have no occasion to appeal to theories, but to facts.

The existing moral and spiritual condition of mankind is universally admitted to be imperfect. Both believers and unbelievers in revelation alike acknowledge that the attempt to improve it is desirable. No less certain is it that man possesses faculties which can only receive their perfect development in a higher condition of things than the present. These as much point to a higher development of man as the organization of the lower forms of animal life points to the higher and more perfect ones. If, therefore, God be the Creator and moral Governor of the world, a further manifestation of Him is rendered highly probable.

If the possibility of the introduction of moral evil into the universe is a necessary condition of the creation of a free moral agent, or in other words, if the contrary supposition involves a contradiction, the Creator must have viewed the production of such a free agent as so desirable, that it formed a part of His purpose to create him notwithstanding this possibility. If then moral evil became a fact, it involved no failure in the purposes of God. He must have viewed the existence of such beings as desirable, even if this contingency became a fact. Why, I ask, may not a further manifestation of Himself, by means of which moral evil might be reduced to the smallest dimensions, or even ultimately removed, while freedom is still preserved, form a portion of the same great purpose of the divine mind? If this be possible, the assertion that Redemption is a special intervention of God for the purpose of remedying the breaking down of his creative plan, is disproved, and with it all the other inferences of the numerous writers whose views I am considering.

In affirming the probability of a revelation, the Christian apologist need not go beyond the region of actual facts. He has no occasion to rest his proof on any statement made by a supposed revelation the truth of which is the point at issue. To do so would be to assume the thing which requires to be proved. But facts as they exist, independently of any statements in the Bible, are quite sufficient. Man exists. He is possessed of powers and aspirations which this state of things does not gratify. He is capable of moral action, and there is something within him which affirms that he ought to obey the moral law. Yet its realization by him is of the most imperfect character. Does the actual condition of man afford satisfaction even to the unbeliever, account for it as he may? Is there not a great amount of moral evil in the world? Do not considerable numbers of men, instead of progressing to higher degrees of moral perfection degenerate through various stages of moral corruption? Does not moral evil cause a great amount of physical suffering? Are not vast numbers of men the prey of ignorance and superstition—great evils doubtless, and of which unbelievers heavily complain? In one word, when we contemplate the present condition of mankind, does not the sternest reason affirm that it is inconceivable that this can be the final condition of God's creative work? Yet these things are no theories but obvious facts, and on the supposition on which we are reasoning, facts in the universe of God.

It will perhaps be replied that nature is gradually extinguishing these unprogressive races, under the pressure of her inexorable laws. Yet they constitute an overwhelming majority of the human race, and it is strange to talk of this progressive improvement of the human race as a great law of nature, if the mode of improvement be the extinction of the great majority of mankind. But are the Hindoo, Chinese, Negro, and other unprogressive races less numerous than they were three thousand years ago? The evidence is all the other way. We want present facts and not theories of the future. It has been affirmed, that “The survival of the fittest is the stern law of nature. The invariable action of law of itself eliminates the unfit. Progress is necessary to existence. Extinction is the doom of Retrogression.” These assertions may receive their fulfilment in some period of the distant future, but they certainly do not agree with the past history of man. Whatever progress the European races may be capable of, certain conditions of climate form an inexorable barrier to their supplanting the Negro, the Hindoo, or the Chinese, and we know that European blood in certain climates has actually degenerated.

Again, we are told that “there is not in reality a gradation of breach of law that is not followed by an equivalent gradation of punishment.” This may be the case in some Utopia in which the author lives, but it certainly neither is nor ever has been the condition of this world. Does villany, I ask, always receive adequate punishment in this world? It has been the all but universal opinion of mankind that it does not. Did not Fouché die quietly in his bed, possessed of wealth and honours, and a darkened conscience? Did not Philip II. of Spain, after all his crimes, die under the delusions of self-approbation? In a controversy like this the most confident assertions will not supply the want of facts on which to ground our reasonings.

It follows, therefore, that the assertion that the Christian argument involves reasoning in a circle, or else that it assumes the point at issue, is disproved.

“Does not the necessity of this theory of false miracles, of the power of God thus placed on a level with the power of Satan, in a matter where the distinct purpose is to authenticate by miraculous testimony a miraculous revelation, rather betray the unreality of miracles altogether, and indicate that the idea of such supernatural intervention originates solely from the superstitious ignorance of men in ages when every phase of nature was attributed to direct supernatural interference, and ascribed with arbitrary promptness to God or to the devil? It is certain that as miracles are represented as being common both to God and Satan, they cannot be considered as a distinctive attestation of a divine revelation.”

After quoting Dr. Mozley to the effect that “Miraculous evidence cannot oblige us to accept any doctrine contrary to our moral nature”—an abstractly true statement, but quite inapplicable to the New Testament, which no where affirms that miracles have been wrought in attestation of doctrines—the author continues: “The assertion that evidence emanating from God is in some cases to be rejected is a monstrous proposition; and the evidential force of miracles is totally destroyed by the logical inference from it, and from the double character of miracles as Divine and Satanic; that God is not only capable of exerting supernatural power to attest what is true, but that Satan equally possesses and exercises the same power in opposition to God for purposes of deception. If miraculous evidence is indifferently employed to certify truth and error, it is at once degraded by such common service into contempt.”

These passages put us in possession of the author's views, and perhaps it would be impossible to state the objections more strongly. I have quoted them thus fully, not only as embodying the views of this particular writer, but as placing before us in a clear and distinct light the chief objections which can be urged against the attestation that miracles give to the truth of the Christian revelation, on the assumption that demoniacal miracles have been performed, or even on the admission that they are possible.

Before I enter on the general question, I must briefly draw attention to the statements and assumptions contained in this remarkable passage.

1. The assertion that miracles are alleged in proof of doctrines, and that divines, when the necessities of their position compel them, affirm the direct converse of this, viz. that miracles are dependent for their truth on doctrines, is an entire misapprehension of the Christian argument. Its true position will be discussed in a subsequent chapter.

2. The assertion that the miracles of Almighty God can be imitated by Satan is a gratuitous assumption. Nowhere is this affirmed in the New Testament. On the contrary, our Lord uniformly declares that His works were clearly distinguishable from the working of Satan, and could only maliciously be confounded with them.

3. While the Bible speaks of false miracles, its language is quite consistent with the fact that they were impositions practised on the senses, like the acts of jugglers.

5. It is not correct that the essence of a miracle consists in the degree of power manifested in the performance of the outward act. The performance of a miracle does not necessarily involve a greater exertion of power than is manifested in the ordinary occurrences of nature. A miracle is not only an act of power, but it involves the elements of prediction and of purpose.

6. The affirmation that the Christian argument involves the position that heaven must condescend to use the same arguments as hell, if demoniacal possession is supposed to be possible, is altogether inaccurate.

7. The Christian argument nowhere involves the assumption that evidence emanating from God is under certain circumstances to be rejected. It is quite conceivable that a real miracle may have been wrought, which was adequately attested when it was performed, but that the evidence has become imperfect by lapse of time.

8. Even if it be supposed that demoniacal miracles are possible, there is nothing in that assumption which renders it necessary to take for granted that Satan is allowed to ramble over the universe and work miracles at his pleasure, and to imitate the miracles of God. The New Testament uniformly asserts that whatever agency he can exert is a permitted one, which is confined within definite limits.

There can be no question that impositions of this kind have been systematically practised in later times in support of a great system of ecclesiastical power, and to attest doctrines in connection with it. But it is worthy of observation that the demoniacal supernaturalism which we read of in the New Testament, is not represented as having been employed for the attestation of any system of doctrine whatever. Elymas, the sorcerer, practised his art for the purpose of establishing an influence over Sergius Paulus, but for aught that appears he was a simple impostor. All the other cases of Satanic supernaturalism referred to in the Gospels resolve themselves into cases of possession, or the occasional production of a disease.

It may probably be urged by some that the first part of the account only is intended to be a description of an objective fact, and that the last temptation was visionary. To this I reply that the entire narrative is couched in language of fact, and the latter portion quite as much so as the former. Besides, if the sight of the kingdoms of the world and their glory was a visionary representation, then the reason for conveying Jesus to a lofty mountain ceases, for such a vision might equally well have been presented to him in a plain; whereas if we take it as an account of a literal fact, it is clear that the reason for conveying him to the mountain was to afford him an extensive view. It is therefore impossible to draw a distinction between the two portions of the narrative.

Every consideration therefore proves that the entire narrative is either parabolic or an account of a visionary transaction, precisely similar to many of those described in the Old Testament, and not of an actual occurrence. This being so, we arrive at the inference that nowhere in the New Testament is Satanic influence described as interfering with the ordinary action of the forces of nature, by a direct exertion of power.

This has a very important bearing on the argument. The author affirms that the writers of the New Testament attributed to Satan a general power of interfering with the forces of nature, and of working miracles which may fairly be contrasted with the miracles of God. But whatever may have been the opinions of others on this subject, it is clear that such opinions were not held by them. If they had believed that Satanic agency was constantly exerted in the affairs of the visible universe, there is every reason why they should have invented numerous stories of this description, and ascribed them to Satanic intervention. The writer to whom I am referring, urges in the strongest manner, that the belief in magic, and in frequent exertions of demoniacal power over the external universe, was universal among the Jews at the time of the Advent. To prove this, he has adduced a number of opinions entertained by the writers of the Talmud and others, involving the most grovelling superstitions, and asserts that indications of the same are to be found in the Gospels. As an instance, he favours us with the following story told by Josephus, who declares that he was an eye-witness of the fact.

The object for which this and kindred stories are referred to, is to prove that the Jewish mind was so intensely credulous and superstitious on the subject of demoniacal action at the time of our Lord, that there was nothing so monstrous, which it was not in the habit of accepting as fact. We are also repeatedly informed that the followers of Jesus shared in this unbounded credulity. It may be even inferred from the assertion before us, that they were far more credulous. The argument which this writer adduces is plausible, and it may be stated thus. If a writer like Josephus, who was extensively acquainted with Greek literature, and the Talmudists who belonged to the élite of the nation, could narrate such follies as facts, what must have been the beliefs of the vulgar herd? We must not forget that the followers of Jesus were chiefly from the lower orders. “The common people heard him gladly.” The inference which the reader is allowed to draw is that they must have been addicted to yet more gross credulity.

The argument before me tells in a direction precisely opposite to that which is intended by those who have invoked it, and it is marvellous that they do not perceive that it is destructive of their own case. I put it as follows: If the authors of the Gospels entertained the views of demoniacal agency which this author represents them to have held, their narratives, which directly lead them to refer to that subject, would have contained numerous references to stories of the type of that quoted from Josephus. Let me illustrate this argument by an example. The Arabs and other Orientals believe in the power of demons and magicians over external nature. They consider this action to be of frequent occurrence. Their literature therefore abounds with accounts of such monstrous interventions. But the Gospels, with the exception of the history of the Temptation, do not contain an account of a single marvel wrought by the agency of demons on external nature. Demoniacal agency is repeatedly mentioned by them; but it belongs to an order of phenomena of an entirely different character. What, I ask, is the only legitimate inference? That the authors of the Gospels were free from the superstitions in question.

Before going further it will be necessary to ascertain what is the precise nature and character of that demoniacal supernaturalism which is apparently asserted in the pages of the New Testament. Without doing so, it will be impossible to form a correct opinion on the subject under consideration.

But the New Testament also makes mention of lunacy as well as possession. How far they were distinguishable from each other we have no sufficient data to enable us to determine. At one time they are spoken of as the same disease; at others they are clearly distinguished from each other.

The language of the Gospels seems to imply that some maladies were believed to be produced by the influence of possession. In one or two instances language is used which may imply that a bodily disease was brought on by Satanic agency without actual possession. Whatever may have been the belief of the Jews on this subject, it is certain that the cases referred to in the Gospels are very few; and although the mention of diseases is very common, nothing is said about their being due to demoniacal influence. Not a single case occurs in which ordinary accidents are referred to this influence, although such is affirmed to have been the common belief of the Jews. In the Acts of the Apostles only two cases of possession are mentioned, one that of the damsel at Philippi, and the other the occasion when certain Jewish exorcists undertook to exorcise demoniacs at Ephesus in the name of Jesus.

If the language here employed be other than phenomenal, it seems to imply that in St. Paul's opinion certain practices of the ancient world which were far from uncommon, were connected with demoniacal agency. These were usually combined with certain forms of religious phrensy, such as even in the present day manifest themselves in connection with the more degraded forms of religion. At no period was this class of phenomena more prevalent than during the century which preceded, and that which followed the Advent, when human nature was stirred to its profoundest depths.

Such is a general statement of the facts as they appear in the New Testament in connection with possession, and demoniacal action. It has been necessary thus distinctly to state them, in order that we may keep the subject clear of all adventitious issues with which it has been attempted to obscure it. That form of demoniacal action involved in the supposed power possessed by demons of tempting men to evil does not fall within the limits of the present controversy.

But the opponents of Christianity are not content to reason on the facts respecting demoniacal action as they are presented to us in the pages of the New Testament. They charge its writers with a number of the most grotesque beliefs on this subject, for which the book itself furnishes us with no evidence. This course has been taken for the purpose of fastening on them a boundless credulity, and thereby destroying their claim to be accepted as credible reporters of historical facts. I will cite one or two examples of this mode of reasoning, in order that we may be able to form a correct estimate of its value.

The effect of this passage with its context is to produce the impression on the mind of the reader, not only that these absurd beliefs were generally entertained by the Jews at the time of the Advent, but that they constituted the form of thought of the followers of Jesus. It may be urged that the object of the author is to prove the general superstition of the times; and that he does not intend to affirm that it was shared in by every one of the followers of Jesus. This may be correct; but if it is not intended to be asserted that the followers of Jesus were the prey of equal superstitions, the reference to this mass of credulity can have no bearing on the present argument, and is simply misleading. To what purpose, I ask, is it made, unless it is intended to implicate our Lord's followers in these beliefs? Unless it were so, the fact that others entertained them would not in the smallest degree affect the value of their historical testimony. But on this point we are not left to inferences; not only are passages in the Gospels referred to, but we are repeatedly informed that the followers of Jesus did share in these popular delusions.

The position, therefore, which is taken by the author is clear. His readers are invited to believe that the followers of our Lord were a prey to the belief in a number of ineffable absurdities respecting demons such as he has enumerated. If this can be established, the conclusion is inevitable, that their historical testimony is valueless.

But this is not all. The only correct method of ascertaining the superstition and credulity of any particular writer is carefully to examine the contents of his book, and to note the various instances which we find in it of what we consider to be superstitions; and then proceed to estimate their value, and, if needful, to compare them with other contemporary authorities. This course, however, is not that pursued by this writer. On the contrary, he quotes the absurdities which we have seen from the Talmudical writers, and refers in the midst of them to nearly every passage in the Gospels which can be made to bear even a remote reference to the views in question. I submit that such a mode of reasoning is not conducive to the interests of truth.

A few examples of this mode of conducting the argument require notice.

“We find indications of these superstitions throughout the Gospels.” To this observation I invite the reader's attention. Is it meant to be affirmed that any indication can be found in the Gospels that the writers believed that a demon inhabited every private closet in the world? Two instances only are referred to in the text, in one of which the demoniac of Gadara is represented as dwelling among the tombs, and as having been driven into the wilderness; and the other the parable of the unclean spirit going out of the man, and finding no rest when walking through dry places. Do these two cases prove the truth of the sweeping assertions above referred to? Does the parabolic representation that the expelled demon found no rest in dry or clean places prove that the disciples of Jesus believed that they took especial delight in foul or offensive ones? Does the fact that the demoniac of Gadara had been driven by the evil spirit into the wilderness prove that it was a universal belief that deserts and graves were haunted by demons?

Still more extraordinary is the next reference. “Demons haunted springs and fountains,” says the author. To this he adds, “the episode of the angel who was said to descend at certain seasons and trouble the water of the pool of Bethesda, so that he who first stepped in was cured of whatsoever disease he had, may be mentioned in passing.”

Why, I ask, mention it at all? Is the visit of an angel to this particular pool for the purpose of working a miracle, a proof that the followers of our Lord believed that demons inhabited springs and fountains?

But our astonishment at the author's reference to it is increased when we read the following words: “Although the passage is not found in the oldest manuscripts of the Fourth Gospel, and it is certainly a late interpolation.”

The exposure of one more fallacy of this description will be sufficient. We are told that, “Not only one evil spirit entered into a body, but many took possession of the same individual. There are many instances mentioned in the Gospels, such as Mary Magdalene, out of whom went seven demons, and the man whose name was legion, because many demons had entered into him.”

I ask, where are these “many instances”? The plain fact must be stated, that the two here referred to, constitute the only ones which are mentioned as facts by the Evangelists. Besides these there is the parable of the unclean spirit going out of the man above alluded to, who, when he could find no rest returned to his former habitation in company with seven other spirits more wicked than himself. It should be observed that in two of the cases the number given is the mystical number “Seven”; and that one of them occurs in a parable, the moral of which is, to warn the Jews, that although they had got rid of the evil spirit of idolatry, they were in danger of falling into the greater evil of Phariseeism and hypocrisy.

But let us suppose for the sake of argument that the Jews at the time of our Lord did generally entertain these monstrous demoniacal beliefs: to what conclusion, I ask, would such a fact, if true, indubitably point? Credulous and superstitions people, invariably invent stories that are the counterparts of their own credulity. This is proved by the whole mass of existing mythology. Mythological inventions give us the precise measure of the beliefs of those who have originated them. If then the demonology of those who have elaborated these portions of the Gospels was of the character that this writer and others assert it to have been, the Gospels would have contained an embodiment of such demoniacal beliefs as those which the author has so industriously collected, and has endeavoured to fasten upon their writers.

Now the idea of demonology having been present in the minds of the writers, it is obvious that they did not omit all reference to these absurd beliefs, merely because they were outside the subject on which they were writing. But while demoniacal action is repeatedly alluded to, it is an undeniable fact that no stories of the description given by this writer are to be found in them. The author therefore has furnished the most conclusive proof, without intending to do so, that these forms of thought, to whomsoever else they may have appertained, were neither those of the original followers of Jesus, nor of the authors of the Gospels.

It follows therefore that this attempt to prove that the followers of our Lord and the authors of the Gospels were a prey to such a mass of grotesque beliefs respecting demons, as to invalidate their historical testimony, falls to the ground, and that the data on which this has been attempted to be established, afford proof on the contrary that they did not entertain the beliefs in question.