superior character, either as a divine or a divinely commissioned being, or as the expected Messiah of the Jews. Whatever extorted by the necessity of the case, is added to this primary conception of the character of Jesus, in order sufficiently to awaken the human mind to a new religion connected with his name, belief of his miraculous powers, of his resurrection, of his Messiahship, even of his more than human virtue and wisdom, tends to verify the delineation of his character in his Gospels, as the original object of admiration and belief to his followers; and to anticipate and preclude, as it were, its being a subsequent mythic invention.

Can the period in which Jesus appeared be justly considered a mythic age? If by mythic age (and I do not think Dr. Strauss very rigid and philosophical in the use of the term) be meant an age, in which there was a general and even superstitious belief, in wonders and prodigies, mingled up with much cool incredulity, this cannot be denied. The prodigies which are related by grave historians, as taking place at the death of Cæsar; those which Josephus, who is disposed to rationalise many of the miracles of the early history of his people, describes during the capture of Jerusalem, are enough, out of the countless instances which could be adduced, to determine the question. But if the term mythic be more properly applied to that idealisation, that investing religious doctrines in allegory or symbol; above all, that elevating into a deity a man only distinguished for moral excellence (the deification of the Roman emperors was a political act), this appears to me to be repugnant to the genius of the time and of the country. Among the Jewish traditions in the Talmud, there is much fable, much parable, much apologue; as far as I can discern, nothing, strictly speaking, mythic. Philo's is a kind of poetico-philosophic rationalism. The later legends, of Simon Magus, Alexander in Lucian, and Apollonius of Tyana, are subsequent inventions, after the imaginative impulse given by Christianity, possibly imitative of the Gospels.

I would be understood, however, as laying the least stress upon this argument, as this tendency to imaginative excitement and creation does not depend so much on the age as on the state of civilisation, which, perhaps in the East, has never become completely exempt from this tendency.

But I cannot admit the spurious gospels, which seem to me the manifest offspring of Gnostic and heretical sects, and to have been composed at periods which historical criticism might designate from internal evidence, though clearly mythical, to involve the genuine Gospels in the same proscription. To a discriminating and unprejudiced mind, I would rest the distinction between mythical and non-mythical on the comparison between the apocryphal and canonical Gospels.

Neander, in my opinion, has exercised a very sound judgment in declining direct controversy with Dr. Strauss; for controversy, even con. ducted in the calm and christian spirit of Neander, rarely works conviction, except in those who are already convinced. He has chosen the better course of giving a fair and candid view of the opposite side of the question, and of exhibiting the accordance of the ordinary view of the origin and authority of the Gospels with sound reason and advanced philosophy. He has dissembled no difficulties, and appealed to no passions. It affords me much satisfaction to find that, although my plan did not require or admit of such minute investigation, I have anticipated many of the conclusions of Neander In many respects the point of view, from which I have looked at the subject, is altogether different; and, as I have preferred to leave my own work in its original form, though some of the difficulties and discrepancies on which Dr. Strauss dwells may, I trust, be reasonably accounted for in the following chapters of my work, this will be only incidentally; the full counter-statement, prepared with constant reference to Dr. Strauss's book, must be sought in the work of Neander.

It accords even less with the design of my work, which is rather to trace the influence and effect of christian opinions, than rigidly to investigate their origin

or to establish their truth, to notice the various particular animadversions on Dr. Strauss which might suggest themselves; yet I have added some few observations on certain points, when they have crossed the course of my narrative.

The best answer to Strauss is to show that a clear, consistent, and probable narrative can be formed out of that of the four Gospels, without more violence, I will venture to say, than any historian ever found necessary to harmonise four contemporary chronicles of the same events; and with a general accordance with the history, customs, habits, and opinions of the times, altogether irreconcileable with the poetic character of mythic history.-Vol. I. pp. 116

-121.

66

So much for Dr. Strauss; so much for the sages of the Mythic school; of whom we will not speak in the language of execration, or anathema, language which never ought to issue from the lips of private men; language which the Church herself ought never to pronounce but with weeping, even as St. Paul spake of certain walkers, who, in his judgment, were enemies of the cross of Christ. These men, for aught we know to the contrary, may have in them the spirit of love, and, perhaps, the spirit of power,-power, that is, of a certain sort,-the power of untiring industry, and (what Mr. Milman claims for them,) the power of profound research, and philosophic tone of thought." But, the power of a sound, and healthful, and sober mind,-can this possibly be theirs? Mr. Milman, after all, seems to think it may! For he deprecates "the narrow jealousy, the unworthy and timid suspicion," which, in this country, has condemned the masters of Neologism to something like proscription. He himself, as he confesses, has drunk pretty freely of their drugs; till he seems to imagine himself gifted with a sort of Mithridatic constitution. The poison that lurks in them (if poison there be) has lost all power to harm him! Nay, he proclaims his gratitude for the health and vigour imparted by sundry of their preparations. Nevertheless(shall we be forgiven for saying it?)-we cannot help fancying that he has, occasionally, betrayed some morbid symptoms-cutaneous and superficial symptoms, perhaps, but still, apparently indicating the somewhat hazardous regimen to which he has intrepidly committed himself. The following are among these rather alarming appearances. The religion of Persia, he tells us,

offered no temptation to idolatrous practice, though it possessed a rich store of mythological and symbolical figures, singularly analogous to those which may be considered the poetic machinery of the later Hebrew prophets.— Vol. I. p. 65.

It is true that, in a cautionary note, he assures us that

this has no connexion whatever with the originality or authority of the predictions; that, in these visions, it is the moral or religious meaning alone which can be the object of faith, not the figures through which that meaning is conveyed; and, that there is no reason why the images of Daniel or Ezekiel should not be derived from, or assimilate to, the prevalent forms around them, as well as those of the rustic Amoz be chiefly drawn from pastoral or rural life.Vol. I. p. 65. Note.

Well, but who then were the poets?-the prophets Ezekiel and Daniel ? -or the mysterious agents by whom the images were presented to their spiritual eye? Hardly the former; for, in that case, the images, would be neither more nor less than so much pure human invention.

But if, on the other hand, the images were supernaturally suggested, we doubt whether they can, with any reverential propriety, be likened to the machinery employed by epic or by lyric genius. At all events, the expression is injudicious, and may be even dangerous. Its tendency, though not so meant, is to lower the respect which is due to all divine

communications.

Again

In apparent allusion to, or coincidence with, this system [the Demonology of the Zendavesta], the visions of Daniel represent Michael, the tutelar angel, or intelligence, of the Jewish people, in opposition to the four angels of the great monarchies; and even our Saviour seems to condescend to the popular language, when he represents the parental care of the Almighty, under the significant and beautiful image, that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.-Vol. I. p. 71.

The passage in Daniel is, doubtless, profoundly mysterious and obscure. But we are rather surprised that Mr. Milman should have adopted that very interpretation of it, which, we believe, has been rejected by all the soundest divines; and then should have insinuated the surmise that the whole representation was framed in accommodation to the orientalized traditions of the later Jewish church! The whole scheme of a regular celestial hierarchy, and tutelary spirits appointed for the protection of provinces or empires, is destitute of any solid scriptural foundation. It is a system, indeed, closely bordering upon idolatry and polytheism; and, consequently, it surpasses all belief that the dealings of God with individuals or nations, should be framed in condescension to so dangerous a creed. That angels are, occasionally, sent forth on merciful and gracious commissions among the sons of men, is a consolatory truth, which doubtless may be collected from various testimonies of Scripture; and there is nothing repugnant to the tenor of the divine government, as partially revealed to us, in the notion that the simplicity and innocence of childhood may be among the more especial objects of their gracious ministry; and if so, there can be no necessity for resorting to popular ignorance or error, for the purpose of making intelligible the language of the Saviour, when he desired to impress upon his hearers the sacredness of infancy.

We may here remark, that Mr. M. seems too much enamoured of any scheme of interpretation which relieves us from the necessity of giving credence to supernatural phenomena, or revelations of the Deity, as addressed to the senses of man ; the 'Αγγελοφάνειαι, and Θεοφάνειαι, as they are sometimes called. He has devoted an Appendix to the "Influence of these, the more imaginative incidents of the early Evangelic History, on the propagation and maintenance of the Religion." The passages in which such things are related, are not, he observes, in general the vital and essential truths of Christianity, but the vehicle in which these truths were communicated. Whether the appearances in question were real and actual, or mere impressions produced in the mind of those who witnessed them, he considers as of light importance. In either case, they are real historical facts. They partake of poetry in their form, and, in a certain sense, in their groundwork; but they are imaginative, not fictitious; true, as relating that, which appeared to the minds of the relators, exactly as it did appear. Poetry-meaning, by poetry

such an imaginative form, and not merely the form, but the subjectmatter of the narrative (as, for instance, in the first chapters of St. Matthew and St. Luke), was the appropriate, and perhaps necessary, dialect; the vehicle for the more important truths of the Gospel to later generations, &c. &c. &c.-(Vol. I. pp. 130-132.)

Now, we confess that we do not very well know what to make of all this. For example, in the first chapter of St. Luke, we are told that there appeared to Zacharias an angel of the Lord, standing on the right side of the altar of incense; and the angel announced that Zacharias should become the father of the Baptist; he, moreover, declared that his name was Gabriel, who stood in the presence of the Lord; and he foretold that Zacharias should be punished with temporary dumbness for his incredulity. Thus far, according to the imaginative hypothesis, all is a vision, or a day-dream. There was no angel, named Gabriel, sent to make the joyful announcement, or to utter the awful prediction ; but an impression was made upon the mind of Zacharias precisely similar to that which would have been made if the whole scene had been a reality. But next, Zacharias comes forth from the temple speechless; and this, at all events, was not a dream or a fantasy: it was an obvious and substantial fact. Here, then, is a transaction which begins in vision, and ends in reality. The announcement--the unbelief-the prediction-all passed in the region of imagination. The dumbness, and the restoration of speech at the appointed time, took place in the region of visible, tangible, and daily life! We will not undertake to pronounce that all this could not have been so. But, in the absence of any thing in the sacred record to enforce this supposition, we cannot imagine what temptation any reasoning man can have to embrace it; or what relief the most wanton scepticism could derive from its adoption. He who could strike Zacharias dumb, and loose his tongue precisely at the time predicted, could, surely, send an angelyes, a real and not an imaginary angel-to declare his own determinate counsel. And we are quite unable to see how our faith would be more heavily tasked by the one of these phenomena than by the other. What then can be gained by turning one part of the narrative into poetry and vision, and leaving the other part, as it must be left, in the state of hard, palpable, historic, and yet miraculous fact?

Mr. M. himself appears to have his misgivings, touching the safety, and, if we may so express it, the sea-worthiness of these adventurous speculations. But let us hear from himself what he has to say in their behalf.

I am aware that this may be considered as carrying out what is called accommodation to an unprecedented extent; and that the whole system of what is called accommodation is looked upon with great jealousy. It is supposed to compromise, as it were, the truth of the Deity, or at least of the revelation: a deception, it is said, or at least an illusion, is practised upon the belief of man. I cannot assent to this view.

From the necessity of the case there must be some departure from the pure and essential spirituality of the Deity, in order to communicate with the human race,-some kind of condescension from the infinite and inconceivable state of Godhead, to become cognisable, or to enter into any kind of relation with material and dimly-mental man. All this is in fact accommodation; and the adaptation of any appropriate means of addressing, for his benefit, man in any

peculiar state of intelligence, is but the wise contrivance, the indispensable condition, which renders that communication either possible, or at least effective to its manifest end. Religion is one great system of accommodation to the wants, to the moral and spiritual advancement, of mankind; and I cannot but think that as it has so efficaciously adapted itself to one state of the human mind, so it will to that mind during all its progress; and it is of all things the most remarkable in Christianity, that it has, as it were, its proper mode of addressing with effect every age and every conceivable state of man. Even if (though I conceive it impossible) the imagination should entirely wither from the human soul, and a severer faith enter into an exclusive alliance with pure reason, Christianity would still have its moral perfection, its rational promise of immortality—its approximation to the one pure, spiritual, incomprehensible Deity, to satisfy that reason, and to infuse those sentiments of dependence, of gratitude, of love to God, without which human society must fall to ruin, and the human mind, in humiliating desperation, suspend all its noble activity, and care not to put forth its sublime and eternal energies. Vol. I. P. 132.

We have read the above passage, we believe, some dozen times at least; and yet, to this moment, we cannot feel quite certain that we distinctly comprehend the drift of it. One thing we think we can perceive, namely, that it is exceedingly well adapted to unsettle the belief of many a simple and unpractised mind, and to send forth human reason-or, what passes under that sacred name-on wild and roving enterprizes throughout the whole compass of revelation. With regard to the last sentences of the paragraph, we guess their meaning to be this, namely, that there are two classes of incidents in the Bible, the imaginative, and the substantial that if the imaginative faculty should wither from the human soul, the man would thereby be disqualified for the study of a considerable portion of Scripture; its imaginative circumstances would become the merest nullities to him, for he would be destitute of all capacity for their reception. But yet, this disqualification would by no means be fatal, seeing that there would still be left enough of the solid and substantial, in Scripture, to satisfy the cravings of pure reason, and to nourish up the Christian unto everlasting life. In other words (to use a form of speech which has grown into great favour of late), the matters of fact are objective, the imaginative incidents purely subjective; but even if the subjective should be expunged and clean done away, the objective would still remain, firm and indestructible; and, consequently, there would be no cause of alarm for the faith once delivered to the saints. All this may sound plausible and comfortable enough. But how has the theory manifested itself in practical development? We see the wild work which the men of pure reason are perpetually making in the imaginative or subjective department. But have they, on that account, held sacred the substantial and the objective? Are not many among them labouring to overthrow it, or to undermine it? Will it be owing to their tender mercies, if one stone of it is left upon another? Let Mr. Milman himself give the answer.

With some [he tells us], though not with all this class of writers, every thing miraculous [be it imaginative or not] appears totally inconsistent with historic truth. These incidents, being irreconcilable with our actual experience, and rendered suspicious by a multitude of later fictions, cannot accord with the more subtle and fastidious intelligence of the present times. Some writers go so far as to assert that it is impossible that an inquiring and reasoning age should receive these supernatural facts as historical verities.-Vol. I. p. 130.