"Among the spurious [νοθοι] let there be ranked both the work entitled the Acts of Paul, and the book called Pastor, and the Revelation of Peter: and moreover, that which is called the Epistle of Barnabas, and that named the Doctrines of the Apostles: and moreover, as I said, the Revelation of John (if you think good), which some, as I have said, do reject, but others allow of, and admit among those books which are received as unquestionable and undoubted."
Eusebius, though he will not admit the Apocalypse even into the controverted list, but gives permission to call it spurious, yet qualifies his permission in a manner which almost annihilates the distinctive force of νοθος, and gives the book a claim to rank (if you think good, again) in the controverted list. And this is the impression received by
the mind of Lardner, who gives Eusebius fully and fairly, but when he sums up, considers his author as admitting the Apocalypse into the second list. A stick may easily be found to beat the father of ecclesiastical history. There are whole faggots in writers as opposite as Baronius and Gibbon, who are perhaps his two most celebrated sons. But we can hardly imagine him totally misrepresenting the state of opinion of those for whom and among whom he wrote. The usual plan, that of making an author take the views of his readers, is more easy in his case than in that of any other writer: for, as the riddle says, he is You-see-by-us; and to this reading of his name he has often been subjected. Dr. Nathaniel Lardner,[[366]] who, though heterodox in doctrine, tries hard to be orthodox as to the Canon, is "sometimes apt to think" that the list should be collected and divided as in Eusebius. He would have no one of the controverted books to be allowed, by itself, to establish any doctrine. Even without going so far, a due use of early opinion and long continued discussion would perhaps prevent rational people from being induced by those who have the double Vahu to place the Apocalypse above the Gospels, which all the Bivahuites do in effect, and some are said to have done in express words. But my especial purpose is to point out that an easy way of getting rid of 665 out of 666 of the mystics is to require them to establish the Apocalypse before they begin. See if they even know so much as that there is a crowd of testimonies for and against, running through the first four centuries, which makes this book the most difficult of the whole Canon. Try this method, and you will escape beautiful, as the French say. Dean Alford,[[367]] in Vol. IV, p. 8, of his New Testament, gives an elaborate handling of this question. He concludes by saying that he cannot
venture to refuse his consent to the tradition that the Apostle is the author. This modified adherence, or non-nonadherence, pretty well represents the feeling of orthodox Protestants, when learning and common sense come together.
I have often, in former days, had the attempt made to place the Apocalypse on my neck as containing prophecies yet unfulfilled. The preceding method prevents success; and so does the following. It may almost be taken for granted that theological system-fighters do not read the New Testament: they hunt it for detached texts; they listen to it in church in that state of quiescent nonentity which is called reverent attention: but they never read it. When it is brought forward, you must pretend to find it necessary to turn to the book itself: you must read "The revelation ... to show unto his servants things which must shortly come to pass.... Blessed is he that readeth ... for the time is at hand." You must then ask your mystic whether things deferred for 1800 years were shortly to come to pass, etc.? You must tell him that the Greek ἐν ταχει, rendered "shortly," is as strong a phrase as the language has to signify soon. The interpreter will probably look as if he had never read this opening: the chances are that he takes up the book to see whether you have been committing a fraud. He will then give you some exquisite evasion: I have heard it pleaded that the above was a mere preamble. This word mere is all-sufficient: it turns anything into nothing. Perhaps he will say that the argument is that of the Papists: if so, tell him that there is no Christian sect but bears true witness against some one or more absurdities in other sects.
An anonyme suggests that ἐν ταχει may not be "soon," it may be "quickly, without reference to time when:" he continues thus, "May not time be 'at hand' when it is ready to come, no matter how long delayed?" I now understand what *** and *** meant when they borrowed my books and promised to return them quickly, it was "without
reference to time when." As to time at hand—provided you make a long arm—I admire the quirk, but cannot receive it: the word is ἐγγυς, which is a word of closeness in time, in place, in reckoning, in kindred, etc.
Another gentleman is not surprised that Apocalyptic reading leads to a doubt of the "canonicity" of the book: it ought not to rest on church testimony, but on visible miracle. He offers me, or any reader of the Athenæum, the "sight of a miracle to that effect, and within forty-eight hours' journey (fare paid)." I seldom travel, and my first thought was whether my carpet-bag would be found without a regular hunt: but, on reading further, I found that it was only a concordance that would be wanted. Forty hours' collection and numerical calculation of Greek nouns would make it—should I happen to agree with the writer—many hundred millions to one that Revelation xiii is superhuman. There is but one verse (the fifth) which the writer does not see verified. I looked at this verse, and was much startled. The Budget began in October 1863: should it last until March 1867—it is now August 1866—it is clear that I am the first Beast, and my paradoxers are the saints whom I persecute.
[The Budget did terminate in March 1867: I hope the gentleman will be satisfied with the resulting interpretation.]
The same opponent is surprised that I should suppose a thing which "comes to pass" must be completed, and cannot contain what is to happen 1800 years after. All who have any knowledge of English idiom know that a thing comes to pass when it happens, and came to pass afterwards. But as the original is Greek, we must look at the Greek: it is δει γενεσθαι for "must come to pass," and we know that ἐγενετο is what is usually translated "came to pass." No word of more finished completion exists in Greek.