It follows, therefore, on a careful consideration of the position, that the data on which the charge which we have been considering is made against the followers of Jesus and the authors of the Gospels utterly fail to establish it; and that the phenomena of the New Testament prove the contrary to have been the fact.
Chapter XIV. The Love Of The Marvellous—Its Bearing On The Value Of Testimony To Miracles.
It has been objected that the love of the marvellous has in every age constituted so remarkable a phase of human nature as greatly to weaken, if not entirely to invalidate the testimony to the performance of miracles. It is alleged that the great historians of ancient times have recorded a number of supernatural occurrences which are now summarily rejected as incredible: and it is therefore argued that all narratives of miraculous occurrences must share the same fate. This objection differs from that which I have considered in the former chapter, in that it avoids the necessity of imputing to the followers of Jesus and the authors of the Gospels a degree of superstition and credulity greatly in excess of that which characterizes the majority of mankind. It will be therefore necessary to give this subject a careful consideration.
It is an unquestionable fact that the human mind has been in all ages disposed to accept a number of narratives of supernatural occurrences upon very insufficient testimony, and which the principles of sound reason lead us to reject as untrue. Such beliefs have been peculiar to no one period of the world's history, but have been co-extensive with the human race; and they form one of the most remarkable facts in our nature. Many of the ancient historians have reported such occurrences without apparent suspicion; or if [pg 311] they entertained any doubts respecting their truth, they did not venture even to whisper them into the popular ear. What is still more; eminent men of the ancient world did not scruple to act in matters of this kind a part which they knew to be deceptive, because they held the opinion that such beliefs, though they might be laughed at by philosophers, were necessary to act as restraints on the vulgar. Thus we know, on the most indubitable authority, that a Roman Augur could gravely act his part before the public at the very time that he was secretly laughing in his sleeve at the ridiculousness of his art. It does not therefore follow because the ancient historians have reported numbers of occurrences of this nature with considerable gravity, that they accepted them as facts. They were frequently influenced by the spirit of accommodation, thinking it necessary for the welfare of society to keep up the vulgar ideas on the subject. It would be inaccurate therefore to attribute all the accounts of such things which we meet with in ancient writers to simple credulity, or to infer from them that they did not believe in an inviolable order of nature of some kind. With respect to the arts of magic, however, one feels that even the greatest of the ancient writers contemplated them with a kind of bated breath. This would appear to have been the state of mind even of Tacitus, with one exception the greatest historian of the ancient world, and one who was intimately acquainted with the various systems of its philosophy. Conscious as he was that vast numbers of the professors of magic were impostors, he seems hardly able to realize the fact that the whole art was a delusion.
It has been affirmed that the progress of physical science has destroyed in this nineteenth century all belief in the actual occurrence of the supernatural, and [pg 312] that it now prevails only in some of the dark corners of Christendom. The widespread belief in the phenomena of spiritualism, which is certainly very far from being confined to religious men, and from which some students of physical science have not been exempt, is a striking proof of the contrary. All that can be affirmed with truth is that, in these modern times, these forms of belief have taken a new direction. Modern science has done much to establish and spread the belief that the operations of all natural, i.e. material forces are uniform. Many of its students have even brought themselves to the belief that the occurrence of any event whose existence is due to the action of any other than the known forces of nature, is impossible: though this is far from being the invariable, and is certainly not the necessary result of its study. Still, probably, the most ardent votary of these opinions would find it difficult to keep himself wholly free from terrors arising from unseen causes, if they were aroused by a suitable apparatus. The study of physical science is far from being a universal safeguard against the invasions of superstition. Its causes lie far more deeply rooted in our nature than the principles of physical science can reach. Nor is it able to guard against an extravagant use of the imagination.
Whether, in the present state of our philosophy, we have fully penetrated to the depths of this principle thus working in the mind of man, may admit of doubt; but its presence there, as an essential portion of our nature, is an unquestionable fact. We are not without the means of getting a general idea of its character. It is doubtless intimately connected with those principles of our nature which constitute man a religious being, and which form a fundamental part of his mental constitution. As such it must, like all our other faculties, [pg 313] have a legitimate and an illegitimate action. It points, as we shall see, to the existence of the supernatural. A rational religion forms the object for its appropriate exercise. Whenever man has been destitute of this, and his reason has been weak, this principle, devoid of its proper object, has always manifested itself in various forms of extravagance. So powerful is it in the human mind that even avowed atheism has not been proof against its power. Julius Cæsar was an atheist, and possessed one of the most powerful minds that ever inhabited the human frame. Yet, on the great day of his triumph, he ascended the steps of the Capitol for the purpose of averting an avenging Nemesis. Napoleon the First was no atheist, though few persons who have ever lived have been more free from the restraints of religion or superstition. Although he possessed a mighty intellect and was no stranger to the truths of modern science, yet even he believed in his star. Many other instances of men of powerful intellect who disbelieved in religion, yet who entertained singular superstitions, might be easily adduced. I refer to them for the purpose of proving that the principle out of which such things originate must be one which is deep-seated in the nature of man, and therefore an essential portion of it. If it is founded on a fundamental principle of our mental constitution, it follows that it must have a legitimate subject-matter on which to exercise its powers, and that the abnormal forms of it which are so frequently manifested are the results of some disorder in its action. What then is its nature?
There are certain principles deeply-seated within us, which form as definite a portion of ourselves as even our rational faculties, and which directly prompt to the belief in the supernatural, and therefore point to its existence. Among these, the faculties of imagination, [pg 314] wonder, reverence and awe, hold a conspicuous place. It is impossible to deny that they form portions of the actual constitution of our minds, however we may account for their origin. Is it then our duty to eradicate them because they prompt us to the belief in something which transcends the visible order of nature? This will hardly be affirmed by the most thorough-going sceptic; for if it be our duty to do so, the human mind must be a mass of disorder in the midst of a universe of order. If we were to make the attempt (for indeed it has been attempted) the result would be to upset the balance of our mental constitution, and it would terminate in failure. Human nature, taken as it is, constitutes a whole. These faculties hold in it a place subordinate to reason and to conscience. When our rational, our imaginative, and our moral powers act harmoniously together, they constitute man a religious being.
But, for the purposes of the present argument, I have simply to draw attention to the fact that imagination, wonder, reverence and awe form an essential portion of our being. It would be in the highest degree undesirable to get rid of them, even if we were able. How mighty is the influence of the first of these principles! It lies at the foundation of everything that is great and noble in man. To it are due the magnificent creations of poetry; in fact everything which adorns life, and much of that which raises us above the mechanical forces of nature. Destitute of it, our reason could not act; nay, it could not even exist; and we should be reduced to the mere mechanical action of the understanding, the wheels of which would be in danger of rusting. Nor has the faculty of wonder a less definite place in our being. It is closely connected with our imagination, which supplies [pg 315] it with objects fitted to excite it, and ought to be exercised under the guidance of reason. Its object is the great and the vast, shall I not say, the infinite? Regulated by reason and united with awe, it produces reverence. Reverence points to the existence of some object which is really worthy of veneration. Veneration can only be legitimately exercised on that which is truly venerable. As such it directly points to a personal God, and refuses to rest in anything short of Him as able fully to gratify its aspirations. Viewing them as a whole, the legitimate object of these faculties, and the subject from which they can receive their fullest gratification, is that Great Being who everywhere manifests Himself in this glorious universe. But when man has ceased to contemplate in nature a rational power guiding and controlling it, the principle of wonder has frequently prompted him to gratify its aspirations by peopling it with a multitude of phantastic creations. When under the influence of awe, he has contemplated it in its terrible aspects, unguided by a being who possesses a moral character, these feelings have prompted the imagination to fill it with beings who excite the feeling of superstitious dread.