Part 6 — CHAPTER III. THE EVIDENCE OF PAUL (continued 2)

believe in miracles and supernatural interference with the affairs of life. As Jews, moreover, they had inherited belief in angelic agency, and divine apparitions. The Old Testament is full of narratives in which Jehovah appears to the Patriarchs and Lawgivers of Israel. Celestial visions had been familiar to every Jew from his infancy, and the constant personal communications of the Almighty with his peculiar people were still the most sacred traditions of the nation.

Nursed in the prevalent superstition of the time, educated by the Law and the Prophets to familiarity with the supernatural, and prepared by the fervid imagination of their race to recognize wonders in heaven and earth,(1) the disciples were naturally prepared for the great Christian Miracle. The special circumstances in which they were placed at the death of Jesus conduced in the highest degree to excite that expectant attention which, in their state of profound agitation, rendered them readily susceptible of extraordinary impressions. The disciples had for a long period followed Jesus and felt the influence of his elevated character. It may be doubted how far they had entered into the spirit of his sublime teaching, or understood the spiritual wisdom which lay beneath the noble simplicity of his language, but it cannot be doubted that his personal greatness must have produced a profound effect upon their minds. When they came at last to understand, if in a material and imperfect way, his views as to his Messianic character, they can have had little difficulty in believing, in spite of the mysterious lowliness and humility of his aspect, although probably in a sense widely different from his own, that

the hope of Israel had at last come, and that the hour of her redemption was at hand. It is probable that, as the enmity of the priests and rulers increased, and the danger of his position became more apparent, whilst he disdained unworthily to shrink from his public work, he must have felt all the peril before him, and observed the anxiety of his followers. It may be conceived that, under such circumstances, his teachings may have assumed even a higher spirituality than before and, rising above the clouds of the present, soared out into that calmer future when the religion he founded would be accepted by men, and become a light to the Gentiles and the glory of his people Israel. It is probable that he may have spoken of his death in spiritual terms as a sacrifice for them and for the world, which would secure the triumph of his work and regenerate mankind. Comforting those who had left all and followed him, but from whom he might so soon be parted, and knowing their doubts and fears, he must have re-assured their minds by inspiriting views of the inseparable nature of his union with those who loved him and did his commandments; his spirit dwelling within them and leading them safely through the world, in the peace and security of souls raised by the truth beyond the reach of its corruption and its wrong.

That they must have felt the strongest conviction of his Messianic character, we think cannot be doubted, however confused may have been their ideas of the exact nature of his office and of the manner in which his coming was to secure the triumph of Israel The shock to their expectations and the utter dissipation of their hopes which must have been felt in the first moment of his arrest, hurried trial, and cruel

condemnation can well be imagined. It is probable that in that first moment of terror and bewilderment the disciples indeed all forsook him and fled. No one who had consorted with the Great Teacher, however, and felt the influence of his mind, could long have resisted the reaction to nobler thoughts of him. In all the bitterness of sorrow for the loss of their master and friend, in horror at his agonizing and shameful death, and in doubt, consternation, and almost despair, they must have gathered together again and spoken of these strange events. Believing Jesus to have been the Messiah, how could they interpret his death on the cross? If he was the Messiah could he thus die?(1) If Enoch and Elijah, if Moses, precursors of the Messiah, had not seen death, how could that prophet like unto Moses whom Jehovah had raised up end his career by a shameful death on the cross?

Throughout that time of fiery trial and supreme mental agitation, they must have perpetually sought in their own minds some explanation of the terrible events then occurring and seeming to blast all their hopes, and doubtless mystic utterances of Jesus must have assumed new meanings, meanings probably different from his own. In the accounts of the coming Messiah in the prophets, they must have searched for some light by which to solve the inexplicable problem. Is it not conceivable that, in that last time of danger and darkness, when he saw the persecution against him become more vehement, and felt that the path which he had chosen led him through danger and distress perhaps to death, Jesus may, in the bitter contemplation of that fanatical opposition of bigotry and

superstition have applied to himself the description of the suffering servant of Jehovah, suffering—as all noble souls have done who are in advance of their age, and preach great truths which condemn either directly or by implication the vices and follies of their time,—"the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely," and, worse still, the ignoble insults of popular ignorance and fickleness? Here might seem to them the solution of the enigma; and returning from that first flight of terror and bewilderment, feeling all the intense reaction of affection and grief and faith in the Master quickened by shame at their abandonment of him in his moment of supreme danger and affliction, still believing that he must be the Messiah, and in mute longing and expectation of the next events which were to confirm or confound their hopes, the disciples must have been in the climax of nervous agitation and excitement, and ready to receive any impression which might be suggested in their embarrassment.(1)

According to Paul it was Peter who first saw the risen Jesus. According to the first and fourth Gospels, the first appearance was to the women, and notably, in the latter, to Mary Magdalene out of whom had been cast "seven devils," and whose temperament probably rendered her unusually susceptible of all such impressions. Did Paul intentionally omit all mention of the appearances to the women, or did he not know of them? In the latter case, we have an instructive light thrown on the Gospel tradition; in the former, the first suggestion

of the Resurrection becomes even more clearly intelligible. It will be observed that in all this explanation we are left chiefly to conjecture, for the statements in the Gospels cannot, upon any point, be used with the slightest confidence. On the other hand, all that is demanded is that a probable or possible explanation of the origin of the belief in the Resurrection should be given; and in the total absence of historical data we are entitled to draw inferences as to the course of events at the time. It may well be that a mistake as to the sepulchre, rendered not improbable if any hint of the truth be conveyed in the conflicting traditions of the Gospel, or one of many other suggestions which might be advanced, might lead the women or Peter to believe that the sepulchre was empty. Or some other even trifling circumstance, which we no longer can indicate with precision, might convey to the women or to Peter, in their state of nervous excitement, the last impulse wanting to cause that rapid revulsion from extreme depression, which is so suitable to the state which we may perhaps be allowed to call creative subjectivity. If we are to accept the indications scattered about the New Testament, the impetuous ardent temperament of Peter was eminently one to bound into sudden ecstatic enthusiasm, and in all probability some commonplace or trifling incident may have been the spark which kindled into flame the materials already at glowing heat. The strong subjective impression that Jesus had risen would create a vision of him which, at once confirming previous conclusions, resolving perplexing doubts and satisfying feverish expectations, would be accepted by each mind with little or no question as an objective reality. If Peter, or even the

women, brought to the disciples the assurance that they had seen the Lord, we cannot doubt that, in the unparalleled position in which they were then placed, under all the circumstances of intense feeling and religious excitement at the moment, such emotions would be suddenly called into action as would give to these men the impression that they had seen the Master whom they had lost. These subjective impressions would be strengthened daily and unconsciously into ever more objective consistency, and being confirmed by supposed prophecy would be affirmed with a confidence insensibly inspired by dogmatic considerations.1 That the news would fly from believer to believer, meeting everywhere excited attention and satisfying eager expectancy, is certain; and that these devout souls, swayed by every emotion of glad and exultant enthusiasm, would constantly mistake the suggestions of their own thoughts for objective realities is probable. Jesus died, was buried, and rose again "according to the Scriptures." This would harden every timid supposition into assurance; and as time went on, what was doubtful would become certain, what was mysterious, clear; and those who had seen nothing would take up and strengthen the tradition of those who had seen the Lord.

It is argued that there was not time for the preparation of the disciples to believe in the Resurrection of Jesus between his crucifixion and "the third day," when that event is alleged to have occurred, and, consequently, no probability of subjective impressions of so unexpected a nature being received. To those

apologists who adopt this argument we might point to many passages in the Gospels, which affirm that the resurrection on the third day was predicted. These, however, we assign of course to a later date. The argument assumes that there was no preparation in the teaching of Jesus, which, as we have endeavoured to suggest, is not the case. If there had been no other, the mere assurance that he was the Messiah must have led to reflections, which demanded some other sequel to his career than the death of a slave. The mere suggestion of such a problem as must have proposed itself to the minds of the disciples: If all is to end here, Jesus was not the Messiah: if he was the Messiah, what will now happen?—must have led to expectant attention. But there was much more than this. In such moments as those of the Passion, thought works feverishly and fast. It is not to be supposed that Peter and the rest did not foresee the end, when Jesus was led away prisoner in the hands of his enemies. It is still less to be imagined that their minds were not ceaselessly revolving that problem, on the solution of which depended their fondest hopes and highest aspirations.1 It is most probable, indeed, that no time could have found the disciples in a state so ripe for strong impressions as that immediately succeeding the death of their Master. There are, however, other aspects in which this point may be placed. What evidence is there that Jesus was seen, or supposed to have been seen, on the third day? Absolutely none worthy of the name. Paul does not say that he was, and as for the Gospels their

statement is of no value, and the tradition which they record may be set down as a foregone dogmatic con-elusion. Paul very distinctly shows this. He says: "For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he has been raised the third day, according to the Scriptures."(1) The repetition of the phrase "according to the Scriptures" is very marked, and points to the fact that the purpose for which Jesus died—"for our sins"—and the date of his resurrection—"the third day"—are statements directly based upon Scripture. We have mentioned that the Scriptures supposed to indicate the third day, do not really apply to the Messiah at all, but this does not affect the question before us. Now believing this epoch to be defined in prophecy, this is precisely one of those points upon which memory would, in the lapse of time, be most likely to adjust itself to the prophecy. We will assume that Jesus was not "seen" before the third day. It is obvious that if he was seen forty days after, it might be affirmed that he had been actually raised long before, on the third day. The vision occurring on the third day itself, even, could not prove that he had not "risen" before. There is, in fact, no way that we can see of fixing the third day except the statement ol "Scripture," and, the moment we accept that, we must recognize the force of dogmatic influence.(2) The fact that the third day has from early

times been set apart as the Christian Sabbath, does not prove anything. If the third day was believed to be the day indicated by "Scripture" for the Resurrection, of course that day would be selected as the time at which it must have occurred, and on which it should be commemorated. So far as the vision hypothesis is concerned, the day is of no consequence whatever, and the objection upon this point has no force.

There is another consideration which we must mention, which is not only important in connection with an estimate of the evidence for the Resurrection, but the inferences from which clearly support the explanation we are proposing. Before stating it we may, in passing, again refer to the fact that it is nowhere affirmed that anyone was an eye-witness of the actual Resurrection. It is supposed to be proved by the circumstance that Jesus was subsequently "seen." Observe, however, that the part of this miracle which could not well have been ascribed to subjective impressions—the actual resurrection—is, naturally enough, not seen by anyone, but that which comes precisely within the scope of such subjective action is said to have been seen by many. To come at once to our point, however, neither Paul, nor the Gospels, nor Christian tradition in any form, pretends that Jesus was seen by any one but his disciples and those who believed in him. In fact, Jesus only appeared to those who were prepared by faith and expectant attention to see him in the manner we assert. We are at present merely speaking of the earlier appearances, and reserving Paul for separate discussion. Why, we may inquire, did Jesus not appear to his

enemies as well as to his friends?(1) Nothing of course could have been more intelligible than his desire to comfort and reassure those who believed in and mourned for him, but to do this by no means excluded a wider manifestation of himself, supposing him to have actually risen from the dead. On the hypothesis that he only rose again and was seen through the yearning and enthusiastic faith of his followers, the reason why he was not seen by others is not hard to find. Yet it might be thought that the object of at once establishing beyond doubt his supernatural mission, and convincing his enemies of their crime, and the Jews of their blindness and folly, was important enough. Had he shown himself to the Chief Priests and elders, and confounded the Pharisees with the vision of him whom they had so cruelly nailed to the accursed tree, how might not the future of his followers have been smoothed, and the faith of many made strong! Or if he had stood again in the Courts of the Roman Procurator, no longer a prisoner buffeted and spat upon, but the glorious Messiah, beyond the reach of Jewish malignity or Roman injustice. But no, he was seen by none but those devoted to him. We shall of course be told by apologists that this also was "for the trial of our faith;" though to anyone who earnestly reflects, it must seem childish to ask men to believe what is beyond their reason, yet conceal the evidence by which reason is supposed to be guided. The reply, however, is clear: for the trial of our faith or for any other reason, it is nevertheless certain that this evidence does not exist.

When the argument which we are now discussing was first advanced long ago by Celsus, Origen had no better refutation than, after admitting the fact that Jesus was not after his resurrection seen as before publicly and by all men, to take refuge in the belief that the passage of Paul regarding his appearances contains wonderful mysteries which, if understood, would explain why Jesus did not show himself after that event as he had done before it.(1)

We must now proceed to show that the vision of Paul is satisfactorily explained by the same hypothesis.(2) We have already proved that there is no evidence of any value that Paul's conversion was due to his having seen Jesus in a manner which he believed to be objective and supernatural. To represent the arch persecutor Paul transformed in a moment, by a miraculous vision of Jesus, into the Apostle of the Gentiles was highly characteristic of the author of

Acts, who further represents Paul as immediately preaching publicly in Damascus and confounding the Jews. Widely different is the statement of Paul. He distinctly affirms that he did not communicate with flesh and blood, nor went he up to Jerusalem to them which were Apostles before him, but that he immediately went away into Arabia. The Fathers delighted in representing this journey to Arabia as an instance of Paul's fervour and eagerness to preach the Gospel in lands over which its sound had not yet gone forth. There can be no doubt, however, we think, that Paul's journey to Arabia and his sojourn there were for the purpose of reflection.(1) It is only in legends that instantaneous spiritual revolutions take place. In sober history the process is more slow and progressive. We repeat that there is no evidence which can at all be accepted that Paul's conversion was effected by a vision, and that it is infinitely more probable that it was, so to say, merely completed and crowned by seeing Jesus; but, at the same time, even if the view be held that this vision was the decisive circumstance which induced Paul at once to resign his course of persecution and embrace Christianity, our argument is not materially affected. In any case, much silent, deep, and almost unconscious preparation for the change must long before have proceeded in the mind of Paul, which was finally matured in the Arabian waste. Upon no view that is taken can this be excluded; upon every ground of common sense, experience, and necessary inference, it must be admitted.

Indifference is the only great gulf which separates opinions. There was no stolid barrier of apathy between Saul of Tarsus and belief in the Messiah-ship of Jesus. In persecuting Christianity, Paul proved two things: the earnestness and energy of his convictions, and the fact that his attention was keenly directed to the new sect. Both points contributed to the result we are discussing. Paul's Judaism was no mere formalism. It was the adoption, heart and soul, of the religion of his people; which was to him no dead principle, but a living faith stimulating that eager impetuous character to defend its integrity with "fire and sword." He did not, like so many of his countrymen, turn away with scorn from the followers of the despised Nazarene and leave them to their delusion; but turned to them, on the contrary, with the fierce attraction of the zealot whose own belief is outraged by the misbelief of others. The earnest Jew came into sharp collision with the earnest Christian. The earnestness of each was an element of mutual respect. The endurance and firmness of the one might not melt the bigoted resolution of the other, but it arrested his attention and commanded his unconscious sympathy. Just so would the persecutor have endured and resisted persecution; so, subsequently, he actually did meet it. And what was the main difference between the persecutor and the persecuted? It consisted in that which constituted the burden of the apostolic preaching: the belief that "this was the Christ." The creed of the new sect at least was not complicated. It was little more at that time than a question of identity, until Paul himself developed it into an elaborate system of theology.

In this question of identity, however, there was comprised a vast change of national ideas. To the devout Jew,—looking for the hope of Israel, yearning and praying for the advent of that Son of David who was to sit upon the throne of his fathers, restore the fortunes of the people, drive out the heathen and subdue the nations again to the yoke of Israel, establishing the worship of Jehovah in its purity and turning the Gentiles to the service of the God of Gods,—it was an abhorrent thought that the lowly peasant who had died a shameful death on Golgotha should be represented as the Messiah, the promised King of the Jews. Still there was something sufficiently startling in the idea to excite reflection. A political aspirant, who pretended to play the part, and after some feeble attempt at armed insurrection had been crushed by the heel of the Roman, could not have attracted attention. In that, there would have been no originality to astonish, and no singularity to require explanation. This man, on the contrary, who was said to be the Messiah, assumed no earthly dignity; claimed no kingdom in this world; had not even a place to lay his head; but ended a short and unambitious career as the teacher of a simple but profound system of morality by death on a cross. There was no vulgar imitation here. This was the reverse of the Messiah of the Jews. In spite of so much dissimilarity, however, there was in the two parties a fundamental agreement of belief. The Jew expected the Messiah; the Christian believed he had now come. The Messiah expected by the Jew was certainly a very different Saviour from the despised and rejected Jesus of Nazareth, but at the root of the

Christian faith lay belief in a Messiah. It was a thoroughly Jewish belief, springing out of the covenant with the fathers, and based upon the Law and the Prophets. The difference was not one of principle but one of details. Their interpretation of the promises was strangely dissimilar, but the trust of both was in the God of Israel. To pass from one to the other did not involve the adoption of a new religion, but merely a modification of the views of the old. Once convinced that the Messiah was not a political ruler but a spiritual guide, not a victorious leader, but a suffering servant of Jehovah, the transition from judaic hopes to recognition of Jesus was almost accomplished.

It is clear that Paul in his capacity of Persecutor must have become well acquainted with the views of the Christians, and probably must have heard them repeatedly expounded by his captives before the Jewish Sanhedrin.1 He must have heard the victims of his blind religious zeal affirming their faith with all that ecstatic assurance which springs out of persecution. The vision of Peter contributed to the vision of Paul. There can be no doubt that Paul must have become aware of the application to Jesus of Old Testament prophecies, and of the new conception thence derived of a suffering Messiah. The political horizon was certainly not suggestive of the coming of the Lord's Anointed. Never had the fortunes of Israel been at a lower ebb. The hope of a Prince of the house of David to restore dominion to the fallen race was hard to entertain. The suggestion of an alternative theory based upon a new interpretation of the prophets, if startling, was not untimely, when the old confidence

was becoming faint in many minds, and the hope of his coming seemed so distant and unsure. If we do not misjudge the character of Paul, however shocked he may have been at first by the substitution of a crucified Nazarene for the triumphant Messiah of his earlier visions, there must have been something profoundly pleasing to his mind in the conception of a spiritual Messiah. As he became familiar with the idea, it is probable that flashes of doubt must have crossed his mind as to the correctness of his more material views. If the belief were true, which Christians professed, that this Jesus, despised and rejected of men, was actually the suffering servant of Jehovah, and this servant of Jehovah the Messiah! If the claim of this Jesus who had been esteemed smitten of God and afflicted, had been verified by his rising again from the dead and ascending to the right hand of God! This aspect of the Messianic idea had a mystery and significance congenial to the soul of Paul. The supernatural elements could have presented no difficulties to him. Belief in the Resurrection was part of his creed as a Pharisee. That the risen Messiah should have been seen by many, the fundamental idea once admitted, could not surprise the visionary Jew. We can well imagine the conflict which went on in the ardent mind of Paul when doubts first entered it; his resistance and struggle for the faith of his youth; the pursuance as duty of the course he had begun, whilst the former conviction no longer strengthened the feverish energy; the excitement of religious zeal in the mad course of persecution, not to be arrested in a moment, but become, by growing doubt, bitterness and pain to him; the suffering

inflicted sending its pang into his own flesh. There was ample preparation in such a situation for the vision of Paul.

The constitution and temperament of the Apostle were eminently calculated to receive impressions of the strongest description.(1) We have mentioned the conjecture of many able men that his "stake in the flesh" was a form of epilepsy. It is, of course, but a conjecture, though one which has great probability,(2) and we must not treat it otherwise; but, if it could be proved correct, much light would be thrown upon Paul's visions. We have discussed the Apostle's statements regarding the supernatural Charismata in the Church, and have seen his extreme readiness to believe in the lavish bestowal of miraculous gifts where others could recognise but ordinary qualities. That Paul should be able to claim the power of speaking with tongues more than all the Corinthians, whose exercise of that spiritual gift he so unceremoniously restrains, is in perfect keeping with all that we elsewhere learn about him. Everywhere we find the keenly impressionable nature so apt to fall into the ecstatic state when brought under the influence of active religious emotion. "I must glory," he exclaims with irresistible impulse on coming to a theme so congenial to him, "I must glory; it is not indeed expedient, but I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord."(3) Even when he speaks of the stake in his flesh, which he does in such suggestive connection with his visions, he describes it as sent lest he should "be exalted above measure by the

excess of the revelations."(1) We have so repeatedly had to refer to Paul's claim to have received his Gospel by special revelation that we need not again speak of it here. If we could quote Acts as a genuine representation of Christian tradition regarding Paul, we might point out the visions and revelations therein so freely ascribed to him, but his own writings are amply sufficient for our purpose. Even his second journey to Jerusalem is attributed to the direction of revelation.(2)

The only vision regarding which the Apostle gives any particulars is that referred to, 2 Cor. xii. 2: "I know a man in Christ above fourteen years ago (whether in the body I know not, whether out of the body I know not, God knoweth), such an one caught up even unto the third heaven. 3. And I know such a man (whether in the body or out of the body I know not, God knoweth), 4. that he was caught up into paradise and heard unspeakable words which it is not lawful for a man to utter. 5. For such an one will I boast," etc.(3) It has been argued from this passage and the repetition of the expression "whether in the body or out of the body I know not," that Paul himself could clearly distinguish objective facts from subjective impressions.(4) No interpretation could well be more erroneous. It is evident that Paul has no doubt whatever of his having been in the third heaven and in Paradise, and as little of

his having heard the unspeakable words. That is quite objectively real to him. His only doubt is whether the body was caught up with his soul upon this occasion.(1) No one who has carefully considered such phenomena and examined the statements here made can have any doubt as to the nature of this vision. The conception of being caught up into "the third heaven," "into Paradise," and there hearing these "unspeakable words which it is not lawful for a man to utter," betrays in no doubtful manner the source of the subjective impressions. Of course, divines who are prepared to see in this passage the account of an actual objective event will not consider it evidence that Paul had subjective visions which he believed to have been objective facts; but to those who, more rightly and reasonably, we think, recognize the subjective character of the vision, it must at once definitely settle the point that Paul could mistake subjective impressions for objective realities, and consequently the argument for the similar subjectivity of the vision of Jesus becomes complete. The possibility of such a mistake is precisely what apologists question. Here is an instance in which the mistake has clearly been made by Paul.

The Apostle's own statements show him to have been superlatively visionary and impressionable, with restless nervous energy it is true, but, at the same time, with keen physical and mental susceptibility. Liable to be uplifted by "the excess of revelations," glorying in "visions and revelations of the Lord," possessing ecstatic

powers more than all others, subjecting his very movements, his visits to Jerusalem, to the direction of impulses which he supposed to be revelations: there has never been a case in which both temperament and religious belief more thoroughly combined to ascribe, with perfect conviction, objective reality to subjective impressions connected with divine things then occupying his mind.

Paul moreover lived in a time when the Messianic longing of the Jews led them to be profoundly interested students of the later apocalyptic writings, which certainly made a deep impression upon the Apostle, and in which he must have been struck by the image of the promised Messiah, like the Son of Man, coming on the clouds of heaven (Dan. vii. 13, cf. 1 Cor. xv. 47).(1) At no time was such a vision more likely to present itself to him, than when his mind was fixed upon the Messianic idea with all the intensity of one who had been persecuting those who asserted that the Messiah had already come. Here was reason for all that concentration of thought upon the subject which produces such visions: and when doubt and hesitation entered into that eager intense spirit, the conflict must have been sharp and the nerves highly strung. The Jesus whom he saw with his mind's eye was the climax of conviction in such a nature; and the vision vividly brought to him his own self-reproachful thoughts for cruelly mistaken zeal, and the remorse of noble souls which bounds to reparation. He devoted himself as eagerly to Christianity, as he had previously done to Judaism. He changed the contents but not the form of his mind.(2) Paul the

Christian was the same man as Paul the Jew; and in abandoning the conception of a Messiah "according to the flesh," and placing his whole faith in one "according to the spirit," he displayed the same characteristics as before. The revolution in his mind, of which so much is said, was merely one affecting the Messianic idea. He did not at a bound become the complete Apostle of the Gentiles, but accepting at first nothing more than belief in a Messiah according to the spirit, his comprehensive and peculiar system of theology was, "of course, only the result of subsequent reflection. That his conviction should have been completed by a subjective vision is no more strange than that he should believe in supernatural Charismata, miraculous speaking with tongues, and being actually caught up into the third heaven, into Paradise, and hearing there unutterable words which it is not lawful for a man to utter. Paul evidently never questioned the source of his visions. They were simply accepted as divine revelations, and they excited all the less of misgiving in his soul from the fact that, without doubt, they expressed the expected solution of problems which intensely occupied his mind, and reflected conclusions already practically formed by his own thoughts.(1)

There remain two points to be briefly considered.

The first of these is the assertion, constantly made in various shapes, that the cardinal miracles of the Resurrection and Ascension were proclaimed as unquestionable facts, without contradiction, at a time when such an assertion might have been easily refuted. The production of the body, the still occupied sepulchre, it is said, would have set such pretensions at rest It is unnecessary to say that the proclamation of the Resurrection and Ascension as facts proved nothing beyond the belief, perhaps, of those who asserted them. So far as Paul is concerned, we may seek in vain for any assertion of a bodily Ascension. But there is not the slightest evidence to show when the Resurrection and Ascension were first publicly proclaimed as unquestionable facts. Even the Gospels do not state that they were mentioned beyond the circle of disciples. The second Synoptist, who does not state that Jesus himself was seen by any one, makes the curious affirmation at the close of his Gospel as we have it, that the women, on receiving the announcement of the Resurrection from the angels, and the command for the disciples and Peter to go into Galilee, "went out and fled from the sepulchre; for trembling and astonishment seized them, and they said nothing to any one; for they were afraid."(1) In the fourth Gospel, although the "beloved disciple" went into the sepulchre, "and he saw and believed," it is related of him and Peter: "So the disciples went away again unto their own home."(2) The Eleven, in fact, who all forsook their Master and fled—who are represented as meeting with closed doors "for fear of the Jews"—with closed doors after eight days, it is again said, although, a week before, ten of them are said to have seen Jesus—were not likely to expose

themselves to the fate of Jesus by rushing into the highways and asserting the Resurrection. Beyond the statement of the Gospels, the value of which we have seen, and a statement accompanied by so many confused circumstances, there is no evidence whatever that the sepulchre was found empty. There is no evidence that the sepulchre was really known to the disciples, none of whom, probably, was present at the crucifixion; and it might well be inferred that the women, who are represented as ignorant that the body had already been embalmed, yet who are the chief supposed witnesses for the empty sepulchre and the informants of the disciples, were equally ignorant of the sepulchre in which the body was laid. We might ask whether the 500 brethren who are said to have seen Jesus at the same time came from Galilee, or wherever they were, and examined the state of the sepulchre? We have already said, however, that if the sepulchre had been shown to be empty, the very last thing which could be proved by that circumstance would be the correctness of the assertion that it had become so in consequence of a stupendous miracle. On the other hand, if it had been shown that it was occupied by a body, it is exceedingly doubtful whether the fact would have convinced any one not previously sure that Jesus could not have risen from the dead, and he would not have required such evidence. When the Resurrection was publicly proclaimed as a fact, the body could no longer have been recognizable, and the idea that any of those in authority could have thought such demonstration necessary to refute a story whispered about amongst an obscure sect in Jerusalem, or even more courageously asserted, is a product of later times. When Jesus of Nazareth, the head of the nascent sect, was suppressed

by a shameful death, his humble and timid followers were obviously for a time despised; and there is little reason to suppose that the chief priests and rulers of the Jews would have condescended to any public contradiction of their affirmations, if they had even felt indifference to the defilement of exposing for such a purpose a decaying body to the gaze of Jerusalem. This kind of refutation is possible only in the imagination of divines. Besides, what evidence is there that even a single indifferent person found the sepulchre empty? There is not an iota of proof.

On the contrary, there is the very strongest evidence that when the assertion of the Resurrection and Ascension as "unquestionable facts" was made, it was contradicted in the only practical and practicable way conceivable: (1.) by all but universal disbelief in Jerusalem; (2.) by actual persecution of those who asserted it. It is a perfectly undeniable fact that the great mass of the Jews totally denied the truth of the statement by disbelieving it, and that the converts to Christianity who soon swelled the numbers of the Church and spread its influence amongst the nations were not the citizens of Jerusalem, who were capable of refuting such assertions, but strangers and Gentiles. The number of the community of Jerusalem after the forty days seems to be stated by the author of Acts as "about 120," and although the numbers added to the Church, according to this document, are evidently fabulous, the converts at Pentecost are apparently chiefly from amongst the devout men of every nation upon earth congregated at Jerusalem. To this hour the Jews have retained as their inheritance the denial by their forefathers of the asserted facts. The assertion, secondly, was emphatically denied by the persecution, as soon as it

became worth any one's while to persecute, of those who made it. It was in this way denied by Paul himself, at a time when verification was infinitely more possible than when he came to join in the assertion. Are we to suppose that the Apostle took no trouble to convince himself of the facts before he began to persecute? He was in the confidence of the high priests it seems, can he ever have heard the slightest doubt from them on the subject? Is it not palpable that Paul and his party, by their very pursuit of those who maintained such allegations, stigmatized them as falsehoods, and perhaps as imposture? If it be said that Paul became convinced of his mistake, it is perfectly obvious that his conversion was not due to local and circumstantial evidence, but to dogmatic considerations and his supposed vision of Jesus. He disbelieved when the alleged occurrences were recent and, as it is said, capable of refutation; he believed when the time for such refutation had passed.

The second point to which we have referred is the vague and final objection of apologists that, if the vision of Jesus was merely subjective, the fabric of the Church and even of Christianity is based upon unreality and self-deception. Is this possible? they ask. Is it possible that for eighteen centuries the Resurrection and Ascension have been proclaimed and believed by millions, with no other original foundation than self-delusion? The vagueness and apparent vastness of this objection, perhaps, make it a formidable argumentum ad hominem, but it vanishes into very small proportions as we approach it. Must we then understand that the dogmas of all religions which have been established must have been objective truths? and that this is a necessary inference from their wide adoption? If so, then all

historical religions before Christianity, and after it, must take rank as substantially true. In that case the religion of the Veda, of Buddha, of Zoroaster, of Mahomet, for instance, can as little be based on unreality and self-deception as Christianity. They have secured wide acceptance from mankind. Millions have for centuries devoutly held their tenets, and to this day the followers of Sakya Muni are as numerous as the believers in the religion of Paul. If not, the objection at once falls to the ground as an argument, and the problem becomes a simple matter of evidence, which has been fully discussed and disposed of.

When we analyse the fact, it becomes apparent that, ultimately, belief in the Resurrection and Ascension resolves itself into the belief of a few or of one. It requires very little reflection to perceive that the Christian Church is founded much more upon belief in the Resurrection than on the fact itself.(1) Nothing is more undeniable than the circumstance that not more than a very small number of men are even alleged to have seen the risen Jesus. The mass of those who have believed in the Resurrection have done so because of the assurance of these few men, and perhaps because they may have been led to think that the event was predicted in Scripture. Up to this day, converts to the dogma are made, if made at all, upon the assurance of Paul and the Gospels. The vast question at last dwindles down to the inquiry: Can a few men, can one man, draw erroneous inferences and be honestly deceived by something supposed to have been seen? We presume that there can be no hesitation in giving an affirmative reply. The rest follows as a matter of

course. Others simply believe the report of those who have believed before them. In course of time, so many believe that it is considered almost outrageous to disbelieve or demand evidence. The number of those who have believed is viewed at last as an overwhelming proof of the truth of the creed.

It is a most striking and extraordinary fact that the life and teaching of Jesus have scarcely a place in the system of Paul. Had we been dependent upon him we should have had no idea of the Great Master who preached the Sermon on the Mount, and embodied pure truths in parables of such luminous simplicity. His noble morality would have remained unknown, and his lessons of rare spiritual excellence have been lost to the world. Paul sees no significance in that life, but concentrates all interest in the death and resurrection of his Messiah. In the sepulchre hewn out of the rock are deposited the teaching and example of Jesus, and from it there rises a mystic Christ lost in a halo of theology. The ecclesiastical Christianity which was mainly Paul's work has almost effaced the true work of Jesus. Too little can now be traced of that teaching, and few are the genuine records of his work which have survived the pious enthusiasm evoked by his character. Theology has done its worst with the life; and that death, which will ever be the darkest blot upon history, has been represented as the climax of divine beneficence. The Resurrection and Ascension have deified Jesus of Nazareth; but they have done so at the expense of all that was most truly sublime in his work.

The world will gain when it recognises the real character and source of such dogmas, and resigns this inheritance from the Age of Miracles. For, although we lose a faith which has long been our guide in the past, we need not now fear to walk boldly with Truth in the future, and turning away from fancied benefits to be derived from the virtue of his death, we may find real help and guidance from more earnest contemplation of the life and teaching of Jesus.