More important, however, and more universal than any of the above means of communication from God to man, is the method of communication by miracles. There is probably no great religion in the world, the establishment of which has been altogether dissociated from miracles. They form the most striking, most indisputable, most intelligible proof of the divine will. Not indeed that there is any close logical connection between the performance of a wonder, and the truth of the wonder-worker's doctrines; but popular imagination jumps readily to the conclusion that a man, whom rumor or tradition has invested with supernatural powers over nature, must also be in possession of correct opinions, or even of superhuman knowledge, on the mysterious questions with which religion deals. Hence ecclesiastical historians, of all ages and countries, have sought to show that those from whom they deduced the systems in which they wished their readers to believe, were either themselves gifted with thaumaturgic faculties, or were the subjects of special marvels worked upon them. Such miracles have always served as their credentials, indicating their high character, and entitling them to demand the obedience of mankind to the commands they brought.
The establishment of Buddhism, for example, was attended by the performance of extraordinary miracles. Not only did the Buddha himself frequently perform supernatural feats; not only did his disciples, when they attained a certain grade of sanctity, receive the faculty of flying and doing other wonderful things; but he actually proved the superiority of his claims over those of others by a pitched battle in thaumaturgy. Certain Tirthyas, or heretical teachers, had the audacity to challenge him to contend with them in working miracles, and the trial of skill ended, of course, in their ignominious defeat (H. B. I., p. 162-189). Much in the same way did Moses enter into a rivalry with Pharaoh's magicians, who were overcome by his superior miracles as the Tirthyas were by those of Gautama Buddha. As Jewish prophets and Christian saints received by spiritual inheritance the power of performing miracles, so also did the Fathers of Buddhism. Of one of the greatest of these, named Nagardjuna, it is related that a Brahman who had entered into a dispute with him produced a magical pond, in the middle of which was a lotus with a thousand leaves, but that Nagardjuna produced a magical elephant which destroyed the magical pond (Wassiljew, p. 231). This again may remind us of the serpent of Moses, which swallowed up the serpents of the magicians; or of the fire brought down from heaven by Elijah in his controversy with the prophets of Baal. Another eminent Buddhist, Asvagosha, was remarkable as a preacher. The officials at the court of a certain king reproached him with holding this holy man in too high esteem. The king thereupon took seven horses, kept them six days without food, and then led them to the place where Asvagosha was preaching to be fed. The horses would not touch the food that was offered, but shed tears at the words of the preacher (Wassiljew, p. 232).
The history of the Mongols records some equally wonderful performances on the part of a Lama (or priest) named Bogda. When some messengers came to meet him, he raised his hand in a threatening way against a river, the waters of which immediately began to run upwards instead of downwards; "by which miracle," observes the historian, "an unshakeable faith was established in all minds." No wonder. The division of the Red Sea and the Jordan were child's play to this. The same man caused many others to believe by suddenly producing a spring in a dry place. In another country which he visited, he subdued all the dragons and other baneful creatures to his will (G. O. M., p. 227).
If the founder of the Mussulman religion did not claim any direct power of performing miracles, yet the communication to him of the Suras which compose the Koran was a standing miracle. He professed to fall into an ecstatic condition, in which he received the direct instructions of his God; and his care, when entering the sick-room of a friend, to avoid treading on the angels' wings which he saw extended in all directions, indicates a pretension to more than human faculties. The present votaries of the Mohammedan faith believe in the power of their saints to work miracles, for we read of the sick being taken to their Sheik to be cured by the imposition of his feet (Dervishes, p. 347).
That the Christian religion was largely indebted to miracles for its success during its early years need hardly be remarked. Not only did Christ himself perform miracles of the most extraordinary kind, but the power was, if not wholly, yet to some extent, transmitted to his apostles, and was frequently exercised by the saints and Fathers of the early Church. Jesus himself, according to tradition, relied largely on his miracles as proofs of his divine mission; for when John the Baptist sent disciples to inquire who he was, he replied by telling them to report to their master that the blind received sight, the lame walked, the lepers were cleansed, the deaf heard, the dead were raised up, and the poor had the gospel preached to them. So that the possession of this unusual gift of healing and re-animating, was regarded by him (or, more accurately, by his biographers) as a sufficient answer to the doubt entertained by John whether he were really the Messiah, or whether another were to come.
How great was the importance attached to the possession of miraculous powers by the early Christian Church, may be gathered from a passage in which Irenæus endeavors to cover certain heretics with confusion, by asserting that they are unable to do the things that are commonly done by the adherents of the true faith. "For they can neither confer sight on the blind, nor hearing on the deaf, nor chase away all sorts of demons—[none, indeed], except those that are sent into others by themselves, if they can even do so much as this. Nor can they cure the weak, or the lame, or the paralytic, or those who are distressed in any other part of the body, as has often been done in regard to bodily infirmity. Nor can they furnish effective remedies for those external accidents which may occur. And so far are they from being able to raise the dead, as the Lord raised them, and the apostles did by means of prayer, and as has been frequently done in the brotherhood on account of some necessity—the entire Church in that particular locality entreating [the boon] with much fasting and prayer, the spirit of the dead man has returned, and he has been bestowed in answer to the prayers of the saints—that they do not even believe this can possibly be done, [and hold] that the resurrection from the dead is simply an acquaintance with that truth which they proclaim."[7] Thus, the cure of infirmities and diseases by supernatural means were every-day achievements of the early Christians; and even the dead were sometimes restored to life, when sufficient pains were taken to obtain the favorable attention of the Almighty. "It is not possible," observes the same author in another place, "to name the number of the gifts which the Church [scattered] throughout the whole world has received from God, in the name of Jesus Christ, who was crucified under Pontius Pilate, and which she exerts day by day for the benefit of the Gentiles."[8]
Hence the Mormons, who claim to possess at the present day the powers which have departed from Christians in general, are perfectly in accordance with Irenæus in holding that signs like these are invariably attendant on the kingdom of God. Revelations, visions, the powers of prophecy, of healing, of speaking with tongues, of casting out devils, and working other miracles, are (they contend) the prerogatives of those who belong to this kingdom. History, in relating first the miracles of the Jewish patriarchs and prophets, then those of the Christian Fathers, powerfully supports this theory. Scripture in several unambiguous passages entirely confirms it. And the daily experience of the Latter-day Saints, if we accept their statements, bears witness to its truth, by presenting abundant examples of the actual exercise of such supernatural gifts within their own society. Thus, one person is cured of blindness; another of dislocation of the thigh; another has his fractured backbone restored; in the fourth case it is a rupture that is healed; in the fifth convulsive fits that are stopped.[9] I have myself been present at a Mormon meeting for public worship, and have heard the saints who were gathered together narrate, with perfect solemnity and apparent good faith, the miraculous cures which they themselves experienced, or which they had personally witnessed. One after another rose to bear his testimony to some case of the kind which had fallen within his immediate knowledge. To these uncultivated and fanatical people, holy events still were what they have long ceased to be to the ordinary Christian world—living realities; and we may still study in them the mental condition of those who could accept as phenomena occurring in their own day the restoration of sight, hearing, or speech; the expulsion of devils; and the resurrection of the dead.
CHAPTER II.
HOLY PLACES.
"Draw not nigh hither," said the occupant of the burning bush to Moses; "put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground" (Exod. iii. 5). This verse embodies the universal theory of holy places. They are spots occupied in a special and peculiar manner by the deity or his representative; and where he finds it easier to communicate with mankind than it is elsewhere. Hence, those who hope or desire to receive some celestial intimation, resort to such holy places. The oracles of the ancient world, and the temple at Jerusalem, are instances of holy places where the respective gods worshiped by those who frequented them gave responses, or manifested their presence. Holy places are not always consecrated places. Sometimes—as in the case of the Delphian oracle—the consecration is the work of nature; the divinity intimates in some unmistakable way his presence in the sanctuary which he has himself selected; and human beings have nothing to do but humbly to receive such communications as he may desire to make. Frequently, however, holy places have only become holy by the act of consecration; the local god has not occupied them until they have been duly prepared for him by human labor. On the other hand, consecrated places are always holy places. Not indeed that there are always conspicuous intimations of the divine presence; but it is nevertheless vaguely supposed to haunt the buildings where worship is offered, and rites are performed, more than it does the outer world.
To begin with a few instances of holy places which have not undergone consecration. On the coast of Guinea "almost every village hath a small appropriated grove." Offerings are made in these groves, and they are regarded as so sacred that no one ventures to injure the trees by plucking, cutting, or breaking their branches. "Universal malediction" would be one of the consequences of such misconduct (D. C. G., p. 128). Mr. Turner states that "as of old in Canaan, sacred groves for heathen worship, with and without temples, were quite common in the islands of the Pacific" (N. Y., p. 329). These are instances of the sacredness so frequently attached to woods and forests by primitive nations.