Miracles

86. There is, in Dr. Tillotson's writings, an argument against the real presence, which is as concise, and elegant, and strong as any argument can possibly be supposed against a doctrine, so little worthy of a serious refutation. It is acknowledged on all hands, says that learned prelate, that the authority, either of the scripture or of tradition, is founded merely in the testimony of the apostles, who were eye-witnesses to those miracles of our Saviour, by which he proved his divine mission. Our evidence, then, for the truth of the Christian religion is less than the evidence for the truth of our senses; because, even in the first authors of our religion, it was no greater; and it is evident it must diminish in passing from them to their disciples; nor can any one rest such confidence in their testimony, as in the immediate object of his senses. But a weaker evidence can never destroy a stronger; and therefore, were the doctrine of the real presence ever so clearly revealed in scripture, it were directly contrary to the rules of just reasoning to give our assent to it. It contradicts sense, though both the scripture and tradition, on which it is supposed to be built, carry not such evidence with them as sense; when they are considered merely as external evidences, and are not brought home to every one's breast, by the immediate operation of the Holy Spirit.

86. In Dr. Tillotson's writings, there is an argument against the real presence. It is as concise, elegant, and strong as any argument could possibly be against a doctrine so little deserving serious refutation. That learned prelate says that all agree on one point. The authority of both scripture and tradition rests solely on the testimony of the apostles. They witnessed the miracles by which our Saviour proved his divine mission. Our evidence for the truth of the Christian religion is therefore weaker than the evidence of our senses. Even for the founders of our religion, the evidence was no stronger than that of their senses. And clearly, the evidence must weaken as it passes from them to their disciples. Nor can anyone have as much confidence in their testimony as in what they directly perceive through their senses. But weaker evidence can never outweigh stronger evidence. Therefore, even if the doctrine of the real presence were revealed perfectly clearly in scripture, accepting it would be directly contrary to sound reasoning. The doctrine contradicts our senses, yet both scripture and tradition, on which the doctrine supposedly rests, provide weaker evidence than our senses. This is true when scripture and tradition are considered merely as external evidence, rather than brought home to each person's heart through the immediate operation of the Holy Spirit.

Nothing is so convenient as a decisive argument of this kind, which must at least silence the most arrogant bigotry and superstition, and free us from their impertinent solicitations. I flatter myself, that I have discovered an argument of a like nature, which, if just, will, with the wise and learned, be an everlasting check to all kinds of superstitious delusion, and consequently, will be useful as long as the world endures. For so long, I presume, will the accounts of miracles and prodigies be found in all history, sacred and profane.

Nothing is more useful than a decisive argument of this kind. At the very least, it must silence the most arrogant bigotry and superstition and free us from their intrusive demands. I flatter myself that I have discovered a similar argument. If it is sound, it will provide the wise and learned with a lasting defense against all kinds of superstitious delusion. It will therefore be useful as long as the world lasts. For I assume that accounts of miracles and wonders will be found in all history, sacred and secular, for just as long.

87. Though experience be our only guide in reasoning concerning matters of fact; it must be acknowledged, that this guide is not altogether infallible, but in some cases is apt to lead us into errors. One, who in our climate, should expect better weather in any week of June than in one of December, would reason justly, and conformably to experience; but it is certain, that he may happen, in the event, to find himself mistaken. However, we may observe, that, in such a case, he would have no cause to complain of experience; because it commonly informs us beforehand of the uncertainty, by that contrariety of events, which we may learn from a diligent observation. All effects follow not with like certainty from their supposed causes. Some events are found, in all countries and all ages, to have been constantly conjoined together: Others are found to have been more variable, and sometimes to disappoint our expectations; so that, in our reasonings concerning matter of fact, there are all imaginable degrees of assurance, from the highest certainty to the lowest species of moral evidence.

87. Although experience is our only guide when reasoning about matters of fact, it is not completely reliable. In some cases, experience can lead us into error. In our climate, someone would reason correctly and in keeping with experience by expecting better weather in a week in June than in a week in December. But it is certain that the person may turn out to be wrong. Even so, the person would have no reason to complain about experience in such a case. Careful observation can reveal conflicting events, and these usually warn us in advance of the uncertainty. Not all effects follow from their supposed causes with the same certainty. In all countries and all ages, some events have been found to occur together constantly. Others have been found to vary more and sometimes disappoint our expectations. So, when reasoning about matters of fact, we have every imaginable degree of assurance, from the highest certainty to the weakest kind of evidence concerning matters of fact.

A wise man, therefore, proportions his belief to the evidence. In such conclusions as are founded on an infallible experience, he expects the event with the last degree of assurance, and regards his past experience as a full proof of the future existence of that event. In other cases, he proceeds with more caution: He weighs the opposite experiments: He considers which side is supported by the greater number of experiments: to that side he inclines, with doubt and hesitation; and when at last he fixes his judgement, the evidence exceeds not what we properly call probability. All probability, then, supposes an opposition of experiments and observations, where the one side is found to overbalance the other, and to produce a degree of evidence, proportioned to the superiority. A hundred instances or experiments on one side, and fifty on another, afford a doubtful expectation of any event; though a hundred uniform experiments, with only one that is contradictory, reasonably beget a pretty strong degree of assurance. In all cases, we must balance the opposite experiments, where they are opposite, and deduct the smaller number from the greater, in order to know the exact force of the superior evidence.

A wise person, therefore, adjusts their belief to the evidence. When a conclusion rests on experience that has never failed, they expect the event with complete confidence. They regard their past experience as full proof that the event will occur in the future. In other cases, they proceed more cautiously. They weigh the conflicting experiences and consider which side has more experiences supporting it. They lean toward that side, but with doubt and hesitation. When they finally reach a judgment, the evidence amounts to no more than what we properly call probability. All probability, then, assumes that experiences and observations conflict. One side outweighs the other, producing a degree of evidence proportional to its advantage. A hundred instances or experiments on one side and fifty on the other give us reason to expect an event, though with doubt. But a hundred consistent experiments, with only one that contradicts them, reasonably give us a fairly strong degree of confidence. In all cases where experiments conflict, we must weigh the opposing results and subtract the smaller number from the larger. This tells us the exact force of the stronger evidence.

88. To apply these principles to a particular instance; we may observe, that there is no species of reasoning more common, more useful, and even necessary to human life, than that which is derived from the testimony of men, and the reports of eye-witnesses and spectators. This species of reasoning, perhaps, one may deny to be founded on the relation of cause and effect. I shall not dispute about a word. It will be sufficient to observe that our assurance in any argument of this kind is derived from no other principle than our observation of the veracity of human testimony, and of the usual conformity of facts to the reports of witnesses. It being a general maxim, that no objects have any discoverable connexion together, and that all the inferences, which we can draw from one to another, are founded merely on our experience of their constant and regular conjunction; it is evident, that we ought not to make an exception to this maxim in favour of human testimony, whose connexion with any event seems, in itself, as little necessary as any other. Were not the memory tenacious to a certain degree, had not men commonly an inclination to truth and a principle of probity; were they not sensible to shame, when detected in a falsehood: Were not these, I say, discovered by experience to be qualities, inherent in human nature, we should never repose the least confidence in human testimony. A man delirious, or noted for falsehood and villany, has no manner of authority with us.

88. Let us apply these principles to a particular case. No kind of reasoning is more common, more useful, or even more necessary to human life than reasoning based on testimony and eyewitness reports. Perhaps someone may deny that this kind of reasoning is based on cause and effect. I will not dispute a word. It is enough to observe that our confidence in such arguments comes only from experience. We observe that human testimony is truthful and that facts usually agree with witnesses’ reports. As a general rule, no objects have any discoverable connection with each other. All the inferences we can draw from one object to another rest only on our experience of their constant and regular association. Clearly, we should make no exception for human testimony. Its connection with any event seems, in itself, no more necessary than any other. Our experience shows that certain qualities belong to human nature. Memory is reliable to some degree, people are generally inclined to tell the truth and act honestly, and they feel shame when caught lying. If experience did not show these qualities to be part of human nature, we would never place the least confidence in human testimony. A person who is delirious or known for lying and villainy has no credibility with us.

And as the evidence, derived from witnesses and human testimony, is founded on past experience, so it varies with the experience, and is regarded either as a proof or a probability, according as the conjunction between any particular kind of report and any kind of object has been found to be constant or variable. There are a number of circumstances to be taken into consideration in all judgements of this kind; and the ultimate standard, by which we determine all disputes, that may arise concerning them, is always derived from experience and observation. Where this experience is not entirely uniform on any side, it is attended with an unavoidable contrariety in our judgements, and with the same opposition and mutual destruction of argument as in every other kind of evidence. We frequently hesitate concerning the reports of others. We balance the opposite circumstances, which cause any doubt or uncertainty; and when we discover a superiority on any side, we incline to it; but still with a diminution of assurance, in proportion to the force of its antagonist.

Evidence from witnesses and human testimony is based on past experience, so its strength varies with that experience. We regard it as either a proof or a probability, depending on what experience has shown. Experience may show that a particular kind of report is always, or only sometimes, connected with a particular kind of event or object. We must consider many circumstances in all such judgments. The final standard for settling any disputes about them always comes from experience and observation. When experience does not point entirely in one direction, our judgments inevitably conflict. Arguments oppose and cancel one another, just as they do with every other kind of evidence. We often hesitate over the reports of others. We weigh the opposing circumstances that cause doubt or uncertainty. When we find that the evidence is stronger on one side, we lean toward it. But our confidence is still reduced in proportion to the strength of the evidence against it.

89. This contrariety of evidence, in the present case, may be derived from several different causes; from the opposition of contrary testimony; from the character or number of the witnesses; from the manner of their delivering their testimony; or from the union of all these circumstances. We entertain a suspicion concerning any matter of fact, when the witnesses contradict each other; when they are but few, or of a doubtful character; when they have an interest in what they affirm; when they deliver their testimony with hesitation, or on the contrary, with too violent asseverations. There are many other particulars of the same kind, which may diminish or destroy the force of any argument, derived from human testimony.

89. In this case, conflicting evidence may come from several sources. These include opposing testimony, the character or number of the witnesses, and how they give their testimony. It may also come from a combination of all these circumstances. We are suspicious of a reported fact when witnesses contradict each other. We are also suspicious when there are few witnesses, when their character is doubtful, or when they have an interest in what they claim. We are suspicious, too, when witnesses speak hesitantly or, on the other hand, insist too forcefully that they are telling the truth. Many other factors of the same kind can weaken or destroy the force of an argument based on human testimony.

Suppose, for instance, that the fact, which the testimony endeavours to establish, partakes of the extraordinary and the marvellous; in that case, the evidence, resulting from the testimony, admits of a diminution, greater or less, in proportion as the fact is more or less unusual. The reason why we place any credit in witnesses and historians, is not derived from any connexion, which we perceive a priori, between testimony and reality, but because we are accustomed to find a conformity between them. But when the fact attested is such a one as has seldom fallen under our observation, here is a contest of two opposite experiences; of which the one destroys the other, as far as its force goes, and the superior can only operate on the mind by the force, which remains. The very same principle of experience, which gives us a certain degree of assurance in the testimony of witnesses, gives us also, in this case, another degree of assurance against the fact, which they endeavour to establish; from which contradition there necessarily arises a counterpoize, and mutual destruction of belief and authority.

Suppose, for example, that testimony tries to establish an extraordinary and marvelous fact. In that case, the evidence from the testimony loses strength in proportion to how unusual the fact is. We trust witnesses and historians not because we perceive an a priori connection between testimony and reality. Rather, we trust them because we are accustomed to finding that testimony agrees with reality. But when the fact reported is one we have seldom observed, two opposing experiences come into conflict. Each cancels out the force of the other, and the stronger influences our minds only through the force that remains. Experience gives us a certain degree of confidence in the testimony of witnesses. But in this case, the very same principle of experience also gives us a degree of confidence against the fact they are trying to establish. This conflict necessarily produces a counterweight, and belief and the authority of the testimony cancel each other out.

I should not believe such a story were it told me by Cato, was a proverbial saying in Rome, even during the lifetime of that philosophical patriot.²⁰ The incredibility of a fact, it was allowed, might invalidate so great an authority.

I would not believe such a story even if Cato told it to me was a common saying in Rome, even during the lifetime of that philosophical patriot.²⁰ People accepted that a fact might be so unbelievable that even so great an authority could not make it credible.

The Indian prince, who refused to believe the first relations concerning the effects of frost, reasoned justly; and it naturally required very strong testimony to engage his assent to facts, that arose from a state of nature, with which he was unacquainted, and which bore so little analogy to those events, of which he had had constant and uniform experience. Though they were not contrary to his experience, they were not conformable to it.²¹

The Indian prince reasoned correctly when he refused to believe the first reports about the effects of frost. Naturally, he needed very strong evidence to accept these facts. They arose from natural conditions unfamiliar to him and were very unlike the events he had consistently experienced. Though the reported effects of frost did not contradict his experience, they did not match it either.²¹

90. But in order to encrease the probability against the testimony of witnesses, let us suppose, that the fact, which they affirm, instead of being only marvellous, is really miraculous; and suppose also, that the testimony considered apart and in itself, amounts to an entire proof; in that case, there is proof against proof, of which the strongest must prevail, but still with a diminution of its force, in proportion to that of its antagonist.

90. But to increase the probability against the witnesses’ testimony, let us suppose that the fact they affirm is truly miraculous, rather than merely remarkable. Let us also suppose that their testimony, considered on its own, amounts to complete proof. In that case, one proof is opposed by another. The stronger proof must prevail, but its force is still reduced in proportion to the strength of the opposing proof.

A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined. Why is it more than probable, that all men must die; that lead cannot, of itself, remain suspended in the air; that fire consumes wood, and is extinguished by water; unless it be, that these events are found agreeable to the laws of nature, and there is required a violation of these laws, or in other words, a miracle to prevent them? Nothing is esteemed a miracle, if it ever happen in the common course of nature. It is no miracle that a man, seemingly in good health, should die on a sudden: because such a kind of death, though more unusual than any other, has yet been frequently observed to happen. But it is a miracle, that a dead man should come to life; because that has never been observed in any age or country. There must, therefore, be a uniform experience against every miraculous event, otherwise the event would not merit that appellation. And as a uniform experience amounts to a proof, there is here a direct and full proof, from the nature of the fact, against the existence of any miracle; nor can such a proof be destroyed, or the miracle rendered credible, but by an opposite proof, which is superior.²²

A miracle violates the laws of nature. Firm and unchanging experience has established these laws. So the evidence against a miracle, by its very nature, is as complete as any evidence from experience could possibly be. Why is it more than probable that all people must die, that lead cannot remain suspended in the air by itself, and that fire consumes wood and is put out by water? Is it not because these events follow the laws of nature, and preventing them would require a violation of those laws, in other words, a miracle? Nothing is considered a miracle if it ever happens in the ordinary course of nature. It is no miracle for someone who seems healthy to die suddenly. Such a death, though more unusual than any other, has often been observed. But it is a miracle for a dead person to come back to life, because that has never been observed in any age or country. Experience must therefore be uniformly against every miraculous event. Otherwise, the event would not deserve to be called a miracle. And because uniform experience amounts to proof, the nature of the event gives us direct and complete proof against the existence of any miracle. This proof can be overcome, and the miracle made credible, only by stronger proof on the other side.²²

91. The plain consequence is (and it is a general maxim worthy of our attention), 'That no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would be more miraculous, than the fact, which it endeavours to establish; and even in that case there is a mutual destruction of arguments, and the superior only gives us an assurance suitable to that degree of force, which remains, after deducting the inferior.' When anyone tells me, that he saw a dead man restored to life, I immediately consider with myself, whether it be more probable, that this person should either deceive or be deceived, or that the fact, which he relates, should really have happened. I weigh the one miracle against the other; and according to the superiority, which I discover, I pronounce my decision, and always reject the greater miracle. If the falsehood of his testimony would be more miraculous, than the event which he relates; then, and not till then, can he pretend to command my belief or opinion.

91. The conclusion is clear, and it is a general principle worth our attention: 'No testimony can establish a miracle unless its falsehood would be more miraculous than the event it claims to establish. Even then, the arguments cancel each other out to some degree. The stronger argument gives us only as much confidence as its remaining force warrants, after the weaker argument has been deducted.' When someone tells me he saw a dead man brought back to life, I immediately consider which is more probable. Is he deceiving me or deceived himself, or did the event he describes really happen? I weigh one miracle against the other. Then I decide according to which is greater, and I always reject the greater miracle. Only if the falsehood of his testimony would be more miraculous than the event he describes can he claim my belief.

92. In the foregoing reasoning we have supposed, that the testimony, upon which a miracle is founded, may possibly amount to an entire proof, and that the falsehood of that testimony would be a real prodigy: But it is easy to shew, that we have been a great deal too liberal in our concession, and that there never was a miraculous event established on so full an evidence.

92. In the preceding argument, we assumed that testimony supporting a miracle could possibly amount to complete proof. We also assumed that, if the testimony were false, that would be a genuine wonder. But it is easy to show that we have conceded far too much. No miraculous event has ever been established by such complete evidence.

For first, there is not to be found, in all history, any miracle attested by a sufficient number of men, of such unquestioned good-sense, education, and learning, as to secure us against all delusion in themselves; of such undoubted integrity, as to place them beyond all suspicion of any design to deceive others; of such credit and reputation in the eyes of mankind, as to have a great deal to lose in case of their being detected in any falsehood; and at the same time, attesting facts performed in such a public manner and in so celebrated a part of the world, as to render the detection unavoidable: All which circumstances are requisite to give us a full assurance in the testimony of men.

For first, in all of history, no miracle has been attested by a sufficient number of people with the necessary qualifications. Their good sense, education, and learning must be unquestioned, so that we can be sure they were not deceived themselves. Their integrity must be beyond doubt, so that they cannot be suspected of intending to deceive others. Their standing and reputation in the eyes of the world must be such that they have much to lose if caught lying. At the same time, the events they attest must have happened publicly, in a place famous enough to make detection unavoidable. All these conditions are necessary to give us complete confidence in human testimony.

93. Secondly. We may observe in human nature a principle which, if strictly examined, will be found to diminish extremely the assurance, which we might, from human testimony, have, in any kind of prodigy. The maxim, by which we commonly conduct ourselves in our reasonings, is, that the objects, of which we have no experience, resembles those, of which we have; that what we have found to be most usual is always most probable; and that where there is an opposition of arguments, we ought to give the preference to such as are founded on the greatest number of past observations. But though, in proceeding by this rule, we readily reject any fact which is unusual and incredible in an ordinary degree; yet in advancing farther, the mind observes not always the same rule; but when anything is affirmed utterly absurd and miraculous, it rather the more readily admits of such a fact, upon account of that very circumstance, which ought to destroy all its authority. The passion of surprise and wonder, arising from miracles, being an agreeable emotion, gives a sensible tendency towards the belief of those events, from which it is derived. And this goes so far, that even those who cannot enjoy this pleasure immediately, nor can believe those miraculous events, of which they are informed, yet love to partake of the satisfaction at second-hand or by rebound, and place a pride and delight in exciting the admiration of others.

93. Secondly. We can observe a principle in human nature that, on close examination, greatly weakens our confidence in testimony about any kind of prodigy. We usually reason by assuming that things we have not experienced resemble things we have experienced. We assume that what we have found most common is always most probable. When arguments conflict, we favor those based on the greatest number of past observations. Following this rule, we readily reject any reported fact that is unusual and moderately hard to believe. But when we go further, the mind does not always follow the same rule. When something utterly absurd and miraculous is reported, the mind is more ready to accept it. It does so because of the very circumstance that should destroy the report’s credibility. The surprise and wonder aroused by miracles are pleasant emotions. This pleasure gives us a noticeable inclination to believe in the events that produce it. The effect goes even further. Some people cannot feel this pleasure directly because they cannot believe the miraculous events they hear about. Yet even they love to share the satisfaction secondhand, as it were, and take pride and delight in arousing the wonder of others.

With what greediness are the miraculous accounts of travellers received, their descriptions of sea and land monsters, their relations of wonderful adventures, strange men, and uncouth manners? But if the spirit of religion join itself to the love of wonder, there is an end of common sense; and human testimony, in these circumstances, loses all pretensions to authority. A religionist may be an enthusiast, and imagine he sees what has no reality: he may know his narrative to be false, and yet persevere in it, with the best intentions in the world, for the sake of promoting so holy a cause: or even where this delusion has not place, vanity, excited by so strong a temptation, operates on him more powerfully than on the rest of mankind in any other circumstances; and self-interest with equal force. His auditors may not have, and commonly have not, sufficient judgement to canvass his evidence: what judgement they have, they renounce by principle, in these sublime and mysterious subjects: or if they were ever so willing to employ it, passion and a heated imagination disturb the regularity of its operations. Their credulity increases his impudence: and his impudence overpowers their credulity.

How eagerly people receive travelers’ miraculous stories: their descriptions of sea and land monsters, and their accounts of extraordinary adventures, strange people, and unfamiliar customs! But if religious fervor joins the love of wonders, common sense comes to an end. In these circumstances, human testimony loses all claim to authority. A religious believer may be carried away by enthusiasm and imagine seeing what is not real. He may know his story is false, yet persist in telling it with the best intentions, to advance such a holy cause. Or even when he is not under this delusion, vanity, stirred by so strong a temptation, has more power over him than over other people in any other circumstances. Self-interest has just as much power. His listeners may lack, and usually do lack, enough judgment to examine his evidence. Whatever judgment they have, they reject on principle when faced with such sublime and mysterious subjects. Or even if they were entirely willing to use their judgment, passion and an overheated imagination would disrupt its proper workings. Their readiness to believe increases his boldness, and his boldness overwhelms their readiness to believe.

Eloquence, when at its highest pitch, leaves little room for reason or reflection; but addressing itself entirely to the fancy or the affections, captivates the willing hearers, and subdues their understanding. Happily, this pitch it seldom attains. But what a Tully or a Demosthenes could scarcely effect over a Roman or Athenian audience, every Capuchin, every itinerant or stationary teacher can perform over the generality of mankind, and in a higher degree, by touching such gross and vulgar passions.

At its highest pitch, eloquence leaves little room for reason or reflection. It appeals entirely to the imagination or emotions, captivating willing listeners and overpowering their understanding. Fortunately, eloquence seldom reaches this pitch. Tully or Demosthenes could scarcely achieve this effect over a Roman or Athenian audience. But every Capuchin and every teacher, whether traveling or settled, can achieve it over most people, and to a greater degree, by appealing to such crude and common passions.

The many instances of forged miracles, and prophecies, and supernatural events, which, in all ages, have either been detected by contrary evidence, or which detect themselves by their absurdity, prove sufficiently the strong propensity of mankind to the extraordinary and the marvellous, and ought reasonably to beget a suspicion against all relations of this kind. This is our natural way of thinking, even with regard to the most common and most credible events. For instance: There is no kind of report which rises so easily, and spreads so quickly, especially in country places and provincial towns, as those concerning marriages; insomuch that two young persons of equal condition never see each other twice, but the whole neighbourhood immediately join them together. The pleasure of telling a piece of news so interesting, of propagating it, and of being the first reporters of it, spreads the intelligence. And this is so well known, that no man of sense gives attention to these reports, till he find them confirmed by some greater evidence. Do not the same passions, and others still stronger, incline the generality of mankind to believe and report, with the greatest vehemence and assurance, all religious miracles?

Throughout history, many false miracles, prophecies, and supernatural events have been exposed by contrary evidence. Others expose themselves by their absurdity. These many examples show clearly that people have a strong tendency to believe in the extraordinary and marvelous. They should reasonably make us suspicious of all such accounts. We naturally think this way even about the most common and credible events. For example, no reports start so easily or spread so quickly as reports of marriages. This is especially true in rural areas and small towns. Two young people of equal social standing need only see each other twice for the whole neighborhood to pair them off. People spread the news because they enjoy telling and passing on such interesting news and being the first to report it. This is so well known that no sensible person pays attention to such reports until stronger evidence confirms them. Do not the same passions, and others still stronger, lead most people to believe and report all religious miracles with the greatest enthusiasm and confidence?

94. Thirdly. It forms a strong presumption against all supernatural and miraculous relations, that they are observed chiefly to abound among ignorant and barbarous nations; or if a civilized people has ever given admission to any of them, that people will be found to have received them from ignorant and barbarous ancestors, who transmitted them with that inviolable sanction and authority, which always attend received opinions. When we peruse the first histories of all nations, we are apt to imagine ourselves transported into some new world; where the whole frame of nature is disjointed, and every element performs its operations in a different manner, from what it does at present. Battles, revolutions, pestilence, famine and death, are never the effect of those natural causes, which we experience. Prodigies, omens, oracles, judgements, quite obscure the few natural events, that are intermingled with them. But as the former grow thinner every page, in proportion as we advance nearer the enlightened ages, we soon learn, that there is nothing mysterious or supernatural in the case, but that all proceeds from the usual propensity of mankind towards the marvellous, and that, though this inclination may at intervals receive a check from sense and learning, it can never be thoroughly extirpated from human nature.

94. Thirdly. There is a strong reason to doubt all accounts of supernatural events and miracles. Such accounts are especially common among ignorant and barbarous nations. If a civilized people has ever accepted such accounts, it will be found to have received them from ignorant and barbarous ancestors. Those ancestors passed the accounts down with the unquestioned authority that always accompanies established beliefs. When we read the earliest histories of all nations, we are likely to feel transported to a new world. There, the whole order of nature is disrupted, and every element operates differently from how it does now. Battles, revolutions, pestilence, famine, and death never result from the natural causes we know from experience. Prodigies, omens, oracles, and divine judgments completely overshadow the few natural events mixed in with them. But these supernatural accounts grow fewer on every page as we approach more enlightened ages. We soon learn that there is nothing mysterious or supernatural in this pattern. It all comes from humanity’s usual attraction to the marvelous. Though common sense and learning may sometimes restrain this tendency, it can never be completely removed from human nature.

It is strange, a judicious reader is apt to say, upon the perusal of these wonderful historians, that such prodigious events never happen in our days. But it is nothing strange, I hope, that men should lie in all ages. You must surely have seen instances enough of that frailty. You have yourself heard many such marvellous relations started, which, being treated with scorn by all the wise and judicious, have at last been abandoned even by the vulgar. Be assured, that those renowned lies, which have spread and flourished to such a monstrous height, arose from like beginnings; but being sown in a more proper soil, shot up at last into prodigies almost equal to those which they relate.

A sensible reader is likely to say after reading these astonishing historians, that such extraordinary events never happen in our own time. But I hope it is no surprise that people lie in every age. You must have seen enough examples of that weakness yourself. You have heard many such marvelous stories begin to circulate. All wise and sensible people treated the stories with scorn. Eventually, even ordinary people stopped believing them. Be assured that those famous lies, which spread and grew to such monstrous proportions, began in the same way. But they were sown in more suitable soil. There they grew into wonders almost as great as the events they describe.

It was a wise policy in that false prophet, Alexander, who though now forgotten, was once so famous, to lay the first scene of his impostures in Paphlagonia, where, as Lucian tells us, the people were extremely ignorant and stupid, and ready to swallow even the grossest delusion. People at a distance, who are weak enough to think the matter at all worth enquiry, have no opportunity of receiving better information. The stories come magnified to them by a hundred circumstances. Fools are industrious in propagating the imposture; while the wise and learned are contented, in general, to deride its absurdity, without informing themselves of the particular facts, by which it may be distinctly refuted. And thus the impostor above mentioned was enabled to proceed, from his ignorant Paphlagonians, to the enlisting of votaries, even among the Grecian philosophers, and men of the most eminent rank and distinction in Rome: nay, could engage the attention of that sage emperor Marcus Aurelius; so far as to make him trust the success of a military expedition to his delusive prophecies.

The false prophet Alexander chose wisely when he began his deceptions in Paphlagonia. Though now forgotten, he was once very famous. As Lucian tells us, the people there were extremely ignorant and stupid, and ready to swallow even the crudest deception. People far away, who are weak enough to think the matter worth investigating at all, have no way to get better information. The stories reach them, exaggerated by a hundred details. Fools work hard to spread the deception. Meanwhile, the wise and learned are generally content to mock its absurdity. They do not investigate the particular facts that could clearly disprove it. In this way, Alexander was able to move beyond his ignorant Paphlagonians and gain followers even among Greek philosophers and men of the highest rank and distinction in Rome. He could even win the attention of the wise emperor Marcus Aurelius, who trusted the success of a military expedition to Alexander’s deceptive prophecies.

The advantages are so great, of starting an imposture among an ignorant people, that, even though the delusion should be too gross to impose on the generality of them (which, though seldom, is sometimes the case) it has a much better chance for succeeding in remote countries, than if the first scene had been laid in a city renowned for arts and knowledge. The most ignorant and barbarous of these barbarians carry the report abroad. None of their countrymen have a large correspondence, or sufficient credit and authority to contradict and beat down the delusion. Men's inclination to the marvellous has full opportunity to display itself. And thus a story, which is universally exploded in the place where it was first started, shall pass for certain at a thousand miles distance. But had Alexander fixed his residence at Athens, the philosophers of that renowned mart of learning had immediately spread, throughout the whole Roman empire, their sense of the matter; which, being supported by so great authority, and displayed by all the force of reason and eloquence, had entirely opened the eyes of mankind. It is true; Lucian, passing by chance through Paphlagonia, had an opportunity of performing this good office. But, though much to be wished, it does not always happen, that every Alexander meets with a Lucian, ready to expose and detect his impostures.

There are great advantages to starting a deception among ignorant people. The deception might be too crude to fool most of them (though this rarely happens, it sometimes does). Even so, it has a much better chance of succeeding in distant countries than if it had begun in a city famous for its arts and learning. The most ignorant and barbarous of these barbarians carry the story abroad. None of their countrymen have a wide network of contacts, or enough credibility and authority, to contradict and discredit the false story. People have every opportunity to indulge their love of the marvellous. So a story that is completely discredited where it began may be accepted as true a thousand miles away. But if Alexander had made his home in Athens, the philosophers of that famous centre of learning would immediately have spread their view of the matter throughout the whole Roman empire. Their view would have been backed by their great authority and presented with all the force of reason and eloquence. It would have fully opened the eyes of mankind. As it happened, Lucian was passing through Paphlagonia by chance and had an opportunity to perform this good service. But although it would be highly desirable, not every Alexander meets a Lucian ready to uncover and expose his frauds.

95. I may add as a fourth reason, which diminishes the authority of prodigies, that there is no testimony for any, even those which have not been expressly detected, that is not opposed by an infinite number of witnesses; so that not only the miracle destroys the credit of testimony, but the testimony destroys itself. To make this the better understood, let us consider, that, in matters of religion, whatever is different is contrary; and that it is impossible the religions of ancient Rome, of Turkey, of Siam, and of China should, all of them, be established on any solid foundation. Every miracle, therefore, pretended to have been wrought in any of these religions (and all of them abound in miracles), as its direct scope is to establish the particular system to which it is attributed; so has it the same force, though more indirectly, to overthrow every other system. In destroying a rival system, it likewise destroys the credit of those miracles, on which that system was established; so that all the prodigies of different religions are to be regarded as contrary facts, and the evidences of these prodigies, whether weak or strong, as opposite to each other. According to this method of reasoning, when we believe any miracle of Mahomet or his successors, we have for our warrant the testimony of a few barbarous Arabians: And on the other hand, we are to regard the authority of Titus Livius, Plutarch, Tacitus, and, in short, of all the authors and witnesses, Grecian, Chinese, and Roman Catholic, who have related any miracle in their particular religion; I say, we are to regard their testimony in the same light as if they had mentioned that Mahometan miracle, and had in express terms contradicted it, with the same certainty as they have for the miracle they relate. This argument may appear over subtile and refined; but is not in reality different from the reasoning of a judge, who supposes, that the credit of two witnesses, maintaining a crime against any one, is destroyed by the testimony of two others, who affirm him to have been two hundred leagues distant, at the same instant when the crime is said to have been committed.

95. I can add a fourth reason why wonders have less authority. Every account of a wonder is opposed by countless witnesses, even when the wonder has not been explicitly exposed as false. So the miracle not only undermines the credibility of testimony, but the testimony also undermines itself. To understand this better, consider that, in matters of religion, whatever differs is opposed. The religions of ancient Rome, Turkey, Siam, and China cannot all rest on a sound foundation. Each of these religions is full of miracles. Every miracle claimed to have occurred in one of them aims directly to establish the particular religious system to which it belongs. It therefore has the same force, though more indirectly, in overthrowing every other system. By overthrowing a rival system, it also undermines the credibility of the miracles on which that system was established. So we must regard the wonders of different religions as conflicting facts. Their evidence, whether weak or strong, is also opposed. By this reasoning, if we believe any miracle of Mahomet or his successors, our grounds are the testimony of a few barbarous Arabians. On the other hand, we must consider the authority of Titus Livius, Plutarch, and Tacitus. We must also consider all the Greek, Chinese, and Roman Catholic authors and witnesses who have reported miracles in their own religions. We must treat their testimony as if they had mentioned that Mahometan miracle and expressly contradicted it. We must treat them as if they had contradicted it with the same certainty they have about the miracle they report. This argument may seem overly subtle and elaborate. But it is really no different from a judge's reasoning about witnesses to a crime. Suppose two witnesses accuse someone of a crime. Two others say the accused was two hundred leagues away when the crime was supposedly committed. The judge assumes that the second pair's testimony destroys the first pair's credibility.

96. One of the best attested miracles in all profane history, is that which Tacitus reports of Vespasian, who cured a blind man in Alexandria, by means of his spittle, and a lame man by the mere touch of his foot; in obedience to a vision of the god Serapis, who had enjoined them to have recourse to the Emperor, for these miraculous cures. The story may be seen in that fine historian²³; where every circumstance seems to add weight to the testimony, and might be displayed at large with all the force of argument and eloquence, if any one were now concerned to enforce the evidence of that exploded and idolatrous superstition. The gravity, solidity, age, and probity of so great an emperor, who, through the whole course of his life, conversed in a familiar manner with his friends and courtiers, and never affected those extraordinary airs of divinity assumed by Alexander and Demetrius. The historian, a cotemporary writer, noted for candour and veracity, and withal, the greatest and most penetrating genius, perhaps, of all antiquity; and so free from any tendency to credulity, that he even lies under the contrary imputation, of atheism and profaneness: The persons, from whose authority he related the miracle, of established character for judgement and veracity, as we may well presume; eye-witnesses of the fact, and confirming their testimony, after the Flavian family was despoiled of the empire, and could no longer give any reward, as the price of a lie. Utrumque, qui interfuere, nunc quoque memorant, postquam nullum mendacio pretium. To which if we add the public nature of the facts, as related, it will appear, that no evidence can well be supposed stronger for so gross and so palpable a falsehood.

96. One of the best-attested miracles in all secular history is reported by Tacitus. Vespasian cured a blind man in Alexandria with his spittle, and a lame man with a touch of his foot. The men had seen a vision of the god Serapis, who ordered them to seek these miraculous cures from the Emperor. The story can be found in that fine historian²³. Every detail seems to strengthen the testimony. Someone wishing to defend that discredited and idolatrous superstition could set out the evidence at length, with powerful arguments and eloquence. Consider the seriousness, sound judgment, age, and integrity of so great an emperor. Throughout his life, Vespasian was familiar with his friends and courtiers. He never put on the extraordinary airs of divinity assumed by Alexander and Demetrius. Then there is the historian, a contemporary writer known for honesty and truthfulness. Tacitus was also perhaps the greatest and most penetrating mind of all antiquity. He was so far from being inclined to believe too readily that he is even accused of the opposite faults, atheism and irreverence. The people on whose authority Tacitus reported the miracle were eyewitnesses. We may reasonably presume that they had established reputations for judgment and truthfulness. They confirmed their testimony after the Flavian family had lost the empire. By then, the family could no longer reward them for a lie. Utrumque, qui interfuere, nunc quoque memorant, postquam nullum mendacio pretium. If we add that the events, as described, took place in public, the conclusion is clear. It is hard to imagine stronger evidence for a falsehood so gross and obvious.

There is also a memorable story related by Cardinal de Retz, which may well deserve our consideration. When that intriguing politician fled into Spain, to avoid the persecution of his enemies, he passed through Saragossa, the capital of Arragon, where he was shewn, in the cathedral, a man, who had served seven years as a door-keeper, and was well known to every body in town, that had ever paid his devotions at that church. He had been seen, for so long a time, wanting a leg; but recovered that limb by the rubbing of holy oil upon the stump; and the cardinal assures us that he saw him with two legs. This miracle was vouched by all the canons of the church; and the whole company in town were appealed to for a confirmation of the fact; whom the cardinal found, by their zealous devotion, to be thorough believers of the miracle. Here the relater was also cotemporary to the supposed prodigy, of an incredulous and libertine character, as well as of great genius; the miracle of so singular a nature as could scarcely admit of a counterfeit, and the witnesses very numerous, and all of them, in a manner, spectators of the fact, to which they gave their testimony. And what adds mightily to the force of the evidence, and may double our surprise on this occasion, is, that the cardinal himself, who relates the story, seems not to give any credit to it, and consequently cannot be suspected of any concurrence in the holy fraud. He considered justly, that it was not requisite, in order to reject a fact of this nature, to be able accurately to disprove the testimony, and to trace its falsehood, through all the circumstances of knavery and credulity which produced it. He knew, that, as this was commonly altogether impossible at any small distance of time and place; so was it extremely difficult, even where one was immediately present, by reason of the bigotry, ignorance, cunning, and roguery of a great part of mankind. He therefore concluded, like a just reasoner, that such an evidence carried falsehood upon the very face of it, and that a miracle, supported by any human testimony, was more properly a subject of derision than of argument.

There is also a memorable story told by Cardinal de Retz that may be worth considering. This scheming politician fled to Spain to escape persecution by his enemies. He passed through Saragossa, the capital of Arragon. In the cathedral there, he was shown a man who had served as a doorkeeper for seven years. The man was well known to everyone in town who had ever worshipped at the church. For all those years, people had seen that he was missing a leg. But he recovered the limb by rubbing holy oil on the stump. The cardinal assures us that he saw the man with two legs. All the canons of the church vouched for this miracle. Everyone in town was called upon to confirm the fact. The cardinal found that their zealous devotion showed them to be thorough believers in the miracle. The storyteller lived at the time of the supposed miracle. He was a man of great intelligence, skeptical and free living. The miracle was so singular that it could hardly have been faked. The witnesses were very numerous, and all of them had, in a way, seen the fact they testified to. What adds greatly to the force of the evidence, and may double our surprise, is the cardinal’s own reaction. Though he tells the story, he seems not to believe it himself. So he cannot be suspected of any part in the religious fraud. He rightly considered that he did not need to disprove the testimony precisely in order to reject a fact of this kind. Nor did he need to trace its falsehood through all the acts of deceit and credulity that produced it. He knew that such investigation was usually quite impossible after only a short interval of time or at a small distance from the place. It was also extremely difficult even for someone present at the time. This was because of the bigotry, ignorance, cunning, and dishonesty of a great part of mankind. He therefore concluded, as a sound reasoner would, that such evidence was plainly false on its face. He concluded that a miracle supported by any human testimony was more properly a subject for ridicule than for argument.

There surely never was a greater number of miracles ascribed to one person, than those, which were lately said to have been wrought in France upon the tomb of Abb(c) Paris, the famous Jansenist, with whose sanctity the people were so long deluded. The curing of the sick, giving hearing to the deaf, and sight to the blind, were every where talked of as the usual effects of that holy sepulchre. But what is more extraordinary; many of the miracles were immediately proved upon the spot, before judges of unquestioned integrity, attested by witnesses of credit and distinction, in a learned age, and on the most eminent theatre that is now in the world. Nor is this all: a relation of them was published and dispersed every where; nor were the Jesuits, though a learned body, supported by the civil magistrate, and determined enemies to those opinions, in whose favour the miracles were said to have been wrought, ever able distinctly to refute or detect them²⁴. Where shall we find such a number of circumstances, agreeing to the corroboration of one fact? And what have we to oppose to such a cloud of witnesses, but the absolute impossibility or miraculous nature of the events, which they relate? And this surely, in the eyes of all reasonable people, will alone be regarded as a sufficient refutation.

Surely no person has ever been credited with more miracles than those recently said to have occurred in France at the tomb of Abb(c) Paris. He was the famous Jansenist whose supposed holiness deceived people for so long. Everywhere, people spoke of cures for the sick, hearing for the deaf, and sight for the blind as the usual effects of that holy tomb. But even more remarkably, many of the miracles were promptly verified on the spot before judges of unquestioned integrity. They were confirmed by reputable and distinguished witnesses, in an age of learning, on the most prominent stage in the world today. Nor is that all. An account of the miracles was published and widely distributed. The Jesuits were a learned body, supported by the civil authorities. They were also determined enemies of the beliefs that the miracles were said to support. Yet they were never able to refute the miracles or expose them as false²⁴. Where can we find so many circumstances that agree in confirming a single fact? And what can we set against such a cloud of witnesses, except the absolute impossibility or miraculous nature of the events they describe? Surely, in the eyes of all reasonable people, that alone will be considered a sufficient refutation.

97. Is the consequence just, because some human testimony has the utmost force and authority in some cases, when it relates the battle of Philippi or Pharsalia for instance; that therefore all kinds of testimony must, in all cases, have equal force and authority? Suppose that the Caesarean and Pompeian factions had, each of them, claimed the victory in these battles, and that the historians of each party had uniformly ascribed the advantage to their own side; how could mankind, at this distance, have been able to determine between them? The contrariety is equally strong between the miracles related by Herodotus or Plutarch, and those delivered by Mariana, Bede, or any monkish historian.

97. Some human testimony has the greatest force and authority in certain cases. For example, testimony about the battle of Philippi or Pharsalia has such authority. But does it follow that all kinds of testimony must have equal force and authority in all cases? Suppose that the Caesarean and Pompeian factions had each claimed victory in these battles. Suppose, too, that the historians of each faction had consistently credited their own side with victory. How could people today have decided between them? The miracles reported by Herodotus or Plutarch conflict just as strongly with those reported by Mariana, Bede, or any monastic historian.

The wise lend a very academic faith to every report which favours the passion of the reporter; whether it magnifies his country, his family, or himself, or in any other way strikes in with his natural inclinations and propensities. But what greater temptation than to appear a missionary, a prophet, an ambassador from heaven? Who would not encounter many dangers and difficulties, in order to attain so sublime a character? Or if, by the help of vanity and a heated imagination, a man has first made a convert of himself, and entered seriously into the delusion; who ever scruples to make use of pious frauds, in support of so holy and meritorious a cause?

Wise people are very skeptical of any report that favors the reporter’s passions. This includes reports that glorify the reporter’s country, family, or the reporter himself. It also includes reports that appeal in any other way to his natural inclinations and tendencies. But what greater temptation is there than to appear as a missionary, a prophet, an ambassador from heaven? Who would not face many dangers and difficulties to gain such an exalted role? Or suppose that vanity and an overheated imagination have led a man to convince himself first. If he has seriously embraced the delusion, who would hesitate to use pious deception to support so holy and worthy a cause?

The smallest spark may here kindle into the greatest flame; because the materials are always prepared for it. The avidum genus auricularum²⁵, the gazing populace, receive greedily, without examination, whatever sooths superstition, and promotes wonder.

The smallest spark may ignite the greatest flame here, because the materials are always ready to catch fire. The avidum genus auricularum²⁵, the staring crowd, eagerly accepts without question whatever appeals to superstition and encourages wonder.

How many stories of this nature have, in all ages, been detected and exploded in their infancy? How many more have been celebrated for a time, and have afterwards sunk into neglect and oblivion? Where such reports, therefore, fly about, the solution of the phenomenon is obvious; and we judge in conformity to regular experience and observation, when we account for it by the known and natural principles of credulity and delusion. And shall we, rather than have a recourse to so natural a solution, allow of a miraculous violation of the most established laws of nature?

How many stories of this kind have been exposed and discredited early on in every age? How many more have been celebrated for a time, only to be neglected and forgotten later? So when such reports spread, the explanation is obvious. We judge in line with regular experience and observation when we explain them through the familiar, natural tendencies toward gullibility and self-deception. Rather than turn to such a natural explanation, shall we accept a miraculous violation of the most firmly established laws of nature?

I need not mention the difficulty of detecting a falsehood in any private or even public history, at the place, where it is said to happen; much more when the scene is removed to ever so small a distance. Even a court of judicature, with all the authority, accuracy, and judgement, which they can employ, find themselves often at a loss to distinguish between truth and falsehood in the most recent actions. But the matter never comes to any issue, if trusted to the common method of altercations and debate and flying rumours; especially when men's passions have taken part on either side.

I need not mention how difficult it is to detect a falsehood in an account, whether private or public, even where the events are said to have happened. It is much harder still when the events took place even a short distance away. Even a court of law, using all the authority, care, and judgment at its disposal, often struggles to distinguish truth from falsehood about very recent events. But the truth is never settled if the matter is left to the usual process of arguments, debates, and spreading rumors. This is especially true when people have strong feelings on either side.

In the infancy of new religions, the wise and learned commonly esteem the matter too inconsiderable to deserve their attention or regard. And when afterwards they would willingly detect the cheat, in order to undeceive the deluded multitude, the season is now past, and the records and witnesses, which might clear up the matter, have perished beyond recovery.

When new religions first arise, wise and learned people usually consider them too unimportant to deserve attention. Later, they may wish to expose the deception and free the misguided multitude from their delusion. But by then it is too late. The records and witnesses that could have revealed the truth are gone beyond recovery.

No means of detection remain, but those which must be drawn from the very testimony itself of the reporters: and these, though always sufficient with the judicious and knowing, are commonly too fine to fall under the comprehension of the vulgar.

The only remaining means of detection must come from the reporters’ own testimony. Although these means are always sufficient for discerning and knowledgeable people, they are usually too subtle for ordinary people to understand.

98. Upon the whole, then, it appears, that no testimony for any kind of miracle has ever amounted to a probability, much less to a proof; and that, even supposing it amounted to a proof, it would be opposed by another proof; derived from the very nature of the fact, which it would endeavour to establish. It is experience only, which gives authority to human testimony; and it is the same experience, which assures us of the laws of nature. When, therefore, these two kinds of experience are contrary, we have nothing to do but substract the one from the other, and embrace an opinion, either on one side or the other, with that assurance which arises from the remainder. But according to the principle here explained, this substraction, with regard to all popular religions, amounts to an entire annihilation; and therefore we may establish it as a maxim, that no human testimony can have such force as to prove a miracle, and make it a just foundation for any such system of religion.

98. Overall, then, no testimony for any kind of miracle has ever made it probable, much less proved it. Even if such testimony did amount to proof, another proof would oppose it. This opposing proof would come from the very nature of the alleged miracle. Experience alone gives authority to human testimony, and experience also assures us of the laws of nature. When these two kinds of experience conflict, we can only subtract one from the other. We must then favor one side or the other, with the degree of confidence the remainder allows. But according to the principle explained here, this subtraction leaves nothing at all in the case of all popular religions. We may therefore establish this maxim: no human testimony can be strong enough to prove a miracle and make it a valid foundation for any such system of religion.

99. I beg the limitations here made may be remarked, when I say, that a miracle can never be proved, so as to be the foundation of a system of religion. For I own, that otherwise, there may possibly be miracles, or violations of the usual course of nature, of such a kind as to admit of proof from human testimony; though, perhaps, it will be impossible to find any such in all the records of history. Thus, suppose, all authors, in all languages, agree, that, from the first of January 1600, there was a total darkness over the whole earth for eight days: suppose that the tradition of this extraordinary event is still strong and lively among the people: that all travellers, who return from foreign countries, bring us accounts of the same tradition, without the least variation or contradiction: it is evident, that our present philosophers, instead of doubting the fact, ought to receive it as certain, and ought to search for the causes whence it might be derived. The decay, corruption, and dissolution of nature, is an event rendered probable by so many analogies, that any phenomenon, which seems to have a tendency towards that catastrophe, comes within the reach of human testimony, if that testimony be very extensive and uniform.

99. I ask readers to note the limits of my claim. I say that a miracle can never be proved well enough to serve as the foundation of a system of religion. I admit, however, that some miracles, or violations of the usual course of nature, might be proved by human testimony. Yet perhaps none can be found in all the records of history. Suppose, for example, that all authors in all languages agree on the following event. Beginning on January 1, 1600, there was total darkness over the whole earth for eight days. Suppose the account of this extraordinary event is still strong and vivid among the people. Suppose, too, that all travelers returning from foreign countries report the same account, without the slightest variation or contradiction. Clearly, present-day philosophers should not doubt the event. They should accept it as certain and search for its causes. So many similar examples make the decay, corruption, and dissolution of nature probable. Therefore, a phenomenon that seems to point toward that catastrophe can be established by human testimony, if the testimony is very extensive and consistent.

But suppose, that all the historians who treat of England, should agree, that, on the first of January 1600, Queen Elizabeth died; that both before and after her death she was seen by her physicians and the whole court, as is usual with persons of her rank; that her successor was acknowledged and proclaimed by the parliament; and that, after being interred a month, she again appeared, resumed the throne, and governed England for three years: I must confess that I should be surprised at the concurrence of so many odd circumstances, but should not have the least inclination to believe so miraculous an event. I should not doubt of her pretended death, and of those other public circumstances that followed it: I should only assert it to have been pretended, and that it neither was, nor possibly could be real. You would in vain object to me the difficulty, and almost impossibility of deceiving the world in an affair of such consequence; the wisdom and solid judgement of that renowned queen; with the little or no advantage which she could reap from so poor an artifice: All this might astonish me; but I would still reply, that the knavery and folly of men are such common phenomena, that I should rather believe the most extraordinary events to arise from their concurrence, than admit of so signal a violation of the laws of nature.

But suppose all the historians who write about England agreed that Queen Elizabeth died on January 1, 1600. Suppose they agreed that her physicians and the whole court saw her before and after her death, as was usual for someone of her rank. They also agreed that Parliament recognized and proclaimed her successor. Then, after she had been buried for a month, she appeared again, returned to the throne, and governed England for three years. I confess that I would be surprised by so many strange circumstances occurring together. But I would have no inclination at all to believe such a miraculous event. I would not doubt her supposed death or the other public events that followed it. I would only insist that her death had been faked, and that it was not and could not have been real. You might object that deceiving the world about something so important would be difficult, almost impossible. You might point to the wisdom and sound judgment of that renowned queen. You might also point out how little, if anything, she could gain from such a poor trick. All this might astonish me. But I would still reply that human dishonesty and folly are so common that I would rather believe they had combined to produce the most extraordinary events than accept such a striking violation of the laws of nature.

But should this miracle be ascribed to any new system of religion; men, in all ages, have been so much imposed on by ridiculous stories of that kind, that this very circumstance would be a full proof of a cheat, and sufficient, with all men of sense, not only to make them reject the fact, but even reject it without farther examination. Though the Being to whom the miracle is ascribed, be, in this case, Almighty, it does not, upon that account, become a whit more probable; since it is impossible for us to know the attributes or actions of such a Being, otherwise than from the experience which we have of his productions, in the usual course of nature. This still reduces us to past observation, and obliges us to compare the instances of the violation of truth in the testimony of men, with those of the violation of the laws of nature by miracles, in order to judge which of them is most likely and probable. As the violations of truth are more common in the testimony concerning religious miracles, than in that concerning any other matter of fact; this must diminish very much the authority of the former testimony, and make us form a general resolution, never to lend any attention to it, with whatever specious pretence it may be covered.

But suppose this miracle were attributed to a new system of religion. In all ages, people have been deceived so often by ridiculous stories of that kind that this fact alone would be conclusive proof of a fraud. It would be enough to make all sensible people reject the claim, even without further examination. Though the Being to whom the miracle is attributed is, in this case, Almighty, the miracle is no more probable for that reason. We cannot know the attributes or actions of such a Being except through our experience of what he produces in the usual course of nature. This still leaves us with past observation. To judge which is more likely, we must compare instances of people giving false testimony with instances of miracles violating the laws of nature. False testimony is more common in reports of religious miracles than in reports of any other matter of fact. This must greatly weaken the authority of such testimony. It must also lead us to resolve, as a general rule, never to pay any attention to such testimony, however plausible its pretext may be.

Lord Bacon seems to have embraced the same principles of reasoning. 'We ought,' says he, 'to make a collection or particular history of all monsters and prodigious births or productions, and in a word of every thing new, rare, and extraordinary in nature. But this must be done with the most severe scrutiny, lest we depart from truth. Above all, every relation must be considered as suspicious, which depends in any degree upon religion, as the prodigies of Livy: And no less so, every thing that is to be found in the writers of natural magic or alchimy, or such authors, who seem, all of them, to have an unconquerable appetite for falsehood and fable²⁶.'

Lord Bacon seems to have accepted the same principles of reasoning. 'We should,' he says, 'collect accounts or make a detailed record of all monsters and extraordinary births or natural products. In short, we should record everything new, rare, and extraordinary in nature. But we must examine these accounts with the greatest care, so that we do not stray from the truth. Above all, we must regard any account that depends in any degree on religion as suspicious. This includes accounts such as Livy's reports of prodigies. We must be no less suspicious of everything found in writers on natural magic, alchemy, and similar subjects. All these writers seem to have an insatiable appetite for falsehood and fable²⁶.'

100. I am the better pleased with the method of reasoning here delivered, as I think it may serve to confound those dangerous friends or disguised enemies to the Christian Religion, who have undertaken to defend it by the principles of human reason. Our most holy religion is founded on Faith, not on reason; and it is a sure method of exposing it to put it to such a trial as it is, by no means, fitted to endure. To make this more evident, let us examine those miracles, related in scripture; and not to lose ourselves in too wide a field, let us confine ourselves to such as we find in the Pentateuch, which we shall examine, according to the principles of these pretended Christians, not as the word or testimony of God himself, but as the production of a mere human writer and historian. Here then we are first to consider a book, presented to us by a barbarous and ignorant people, written in an age when they were still more barbarous, and in all probability long after the facts which it relates, corroborated by no concurring testimony, and resembling those fabulous accounts, which every nation gives of its origin. Upon reading this book, we find it full of prodigies and miracles. It gives an account of a state of the world and of human nature entirely different from the present: Of our fall from that state: Of the age of man, extended to near a thousand years: Of the destruction of the world by a deluge: Of the arbitrary choice of one people, as the favourites of heaven; and that people the countrymen of the author: Of their deliverance from bondage by prodigies the most astonishing imaginable: I desire any one to lay his hand upon his heart, and after a serious consideration declare, whether he thinks that the falsehood of such a book, supported by such a testimony, would be more extraordinary and miraculous than all the miracles it relates; which is, however, necessary to make it be received, according to the measures of probability above established.

100. I am especially pleased with the reasoning presented here because I think it may confound certain dangerous friends or disguised enemies of the Christian Religion. They have undertaken to defend it using the principles of human reason. Our most holy religion is founded on Faith, not reason. It is sure to be exposed if we subject it to a test it is in no way fit to withstand. To make this clearer, let us examine the miracles reported in scripture. To avoid losing ourselves in too broad a field, let us confine ourselves to those in the Pentateuch. We shall examine the Pentateuch according to the principles of these supposed Christians. We shall treat it not as the word or testimony of God himself, but as the work of a mere human writer and historian. First, then, we have a book presented to us by a barbarous and ignorant people. It was written in an age when they were even more barbarous, and in all probability long after the events it relates. No other testimony confirms its account. It resembles the fabulous accounts every nation gives of its origins. When we read the book, we find it full of wonders and miracles. It describes a world and a human nature entirely different from those of today, and our fall from that state. It tells of human lives lasting nearly a thousand years and of the destruction of the world by a flood. It tells how one people, the author’s own countrymen, were arbitrarily chosen as heaven’s favorites. It also tells how they were delivered from bondage by the most astonishing wonders imaginable. I ask anyone to place a hand on their heart and consider the matter seriously. Then let them say whether they think the falsehood of such a book, supported by such testimony, would be more extraordinary and miraculous than all the miracles it relates. Yet that would have to be the case for the book to be accepted according to the standards of probability established above.

101. What we have said of miracles may be applied, without any variation, to prophecies; and indeed, all prophecies are real miracles, and as such only, can be admitted as proofs of any revelation. If it did not exceed the capacity of human nature to foretell future events, it would be absurd to employ any prophecy as an argument for a divine mission or authority from heaven. So that, upon the whole, we may conclude, that the Christian Religion not only was at first attended with miracles, but even at this day cannot be believed by any reasonable person without one. Mere reason is insufficient to convince us of its veracity: And whoever is moved by Faith to assent to it, is conscious of a continued miracle in his own person, which subverts all the principles of his understanding, and gives him a determination to believe what is most contrary to custom and experience.

101. Everything we have said about miracles applies equally to prophecies. Indeed, all prophecies are real miracles. Only as miracles can they be accepted as evidence of any revelation. If predicting future events were within human powers, it would be absurd to use a prophecy as evidence of a divine mission or authority from heaven. So, on the whole, we may conclude that the Christian Religion was not only accompanied by miracles at its beginning. Even today, no reasonable person can believe it without a miracle. Reason alone cannot convince us that it is true. And anyone moved by Faith to accept it is conscious of a continuing miracle within himself. This miracle overturns all the principles of his understanding. It gives him a determination to believe what is most contrary to habit and experience.