Infallibility

Inference II

II. The denial of a continuous infallible voice, i.e., the denial that perpetual infallibility was an essential element in the Divine plan of the Church, undermines the religion of those who make the Scriptures their rule of Faith.²⁵25The object of this and the following inference is to point out the wreck of revelation which is brought about by the denial of a living infallible authority.

The Reformers of the sixteenth century entered upon their new Apostolate by proclaiming that the primitive Church was specially to be followed, that certain truth was declared by God’s word and the sentences of the ancient doctors, that thenceforward the Scriptures were to be the rule of faith, and that whatever could not be proved thereby was not to be required of any man that it should be believed as an article of faith.

Simultaneously with this declaration they denied with indignant emphasis that any infallible voice had been heard in what appeared to be the Church—for eight centuries.

In giving loud expression to this, they did not seem to realise that such denial made the Scriptures valueless, stripped them of all authoritative force. That it does so is what we now wish to point out.

View the position of the Evangelists of Protestantism as they stood on the threshold of the Reformation. They looked back over an abyss of eight hundred years, and declared that, throughout that long ill-starred period, the world had been left without any living voice, whose teaching could be relied on with implicit confidence. This represented the alleged deplorable condition of things which they undertook to remedy—the want which they meant to supply. And in applying the remedy, and supplying the want, they themselves made no pretence to be oracles, that is, to be personally infallible in the sphere of their new propagandism.

What then was the state of the case? This:—

(1) At once it became a matter of doubt whether those sacred writings, which had come down through those long years and which were called the Scriptures in the sixteenth century as in the centuries before, contained the inspired word of God.

On the other hand, they felt that it would be an outrage upon reason to make those time-honoured records the rule of faith, unless it were not merely certain, but infallibly certain, that their contents were inspired from on high. Where was there any unerring authority to declare that they were? In their system there was none. They denied the existence of any living voice that could assure them. And it was doubtless their seeing plainly that there was none, and the consequent helpless condition to which the want of it brought them, that forced them to fall back upon the ingenious and convenient theory of “internal evidence,” the theory, namely, in which they affirmed that the contents of the sacred books in themselves, and the effects they produced on the minds of their readers, sufficed to make manifest their inspiration.

It was natural that placed as they were they should have recourse to this line of reasoning. Dependence on intrinsic proof became clearly a necessity of their position.

In order that the intrinsic characteristics, to which they alluded and on which they based their argument for inspiration, should have any force, it would have been necessary to show that such characteristics were not found in any books except those which were inspired, and that they were necessarily present in all books which were inspired. This was impossible. As a matter of fact they were found in books which were not claimed to be works of Divine inspiration, and they were absent from some books which they themselves acknowledged as canonical.

But to realise the utter untenableness of their contention, and to reveal the straits to which they were driven by denying a living, infallible authority, we have only to take up the chief intrinsic criteria on which they relied. These may be classed as follows—historical, dogmatic, æsthetic and empirical or “experimental”.

(1) The historical argument is based on miracles and prophecies. Those, who employ it, appeal to the miracles and prophecies contained in the Scripture as evidence, that the writings which record them were inspired from on high. This is the substance of Horne’s thesis on the point, i.e., the Scripture is inspired because true miracles are recorded in it.

The heading of the leading section of a long chapter in his book is given in these words: “The miracles related in the Old and New Testaments are proofs that the Scriptures were given by inspiration of God”.²⁶26Introduction to the Critical Study of the Holy Scriptures, vol. i. chap. iv. section ii. This argument tends to undermine the Anglican canon, since certain books of Scripture, which relate neither miraculous agency nor prophetical utterance of any kind, find a place in that canon. Besides, there is no essential connection between the miracles and prophecies narrated in the sacred volumes and the volumes themselves. If there is, let it be pointed out. Let the advocates of this theory bring forward the particular miracle or number of miracles, which establish the fact, that the writing which records them is the result of Divine influence. Let them name the precise prophecy or series of prophetical utterances, which will demonstrate to the satisfaction of reasonable men, that the documents, through which they have been conveyed to us, had God for their principal Author. This is incapable of proof. For the utterance of a prophecy, or the working of a miracle, does not necessitate or presuppose the inspiration of the volume, which will transmit the fact of its occurrence to future generations. If such were the case there is no reason why the writings of Tertullian or Eusebius should not be looked upon as inspired, since they speak of miracles wrought by early Christians to prove their faith. Josephus relates miracles, so do a number of ecclesiastical historians; yet their works are not on that account looked upon as having upon them the seal of heavenly inspiration. To make good any connection between the mere record of supernatural facts and the consequent inspiration of such record, it would be necessary to show that, in the designs of Providence, these facts took place with a view either directly or indirectly to proving, that certain books containing them which would be produced sometime later, (books, too, which were not essential to the existence of the Church) were written under the guidance of God Himself. This is very effectively put by Dr. Dixon in his General Introduction to the Sacred Scriptures. He says: “In order that miracles or prophecies would prove any doctrine, they should be performed or uttered in such circumstances that to admit their truth would involve the admission of the truth of the doctrine in question, as otherwise there would be no necessary connection between the performance of the miracle, for instance, and the establishing of the doctrine.”²⁷27Chap. iii.

Our dissenting brethren may still urge that miracles were wrought in attestation of their doctrine by the writers of the books of the New Testament. Granted: in attestation of the truth of their doctrines, but not in attestation of the inspiration of their writings. St. Barnabas performed miracles in proof of the Christian doctrine; yet his epistle is not looked upon as canonical even by those who think it genuine. Nor would its title to inspiration have been advanced an iota, even though he had condensed into its pages the miracles wrought by himself, and all those wrought by his brother Apostles.

And the same conclusion must be reached, if it is a question of prophecies. That man must be a bold reasoner who will say, that the truth of our Lord’s prophecy about the destruction of Jerusalem demonstrates the inspiration of the Gospel of St. Matthew, simply because that Gospel records it.

(2) The dogmatic criterion is alleged to consist in the sanctity, sublimity and purity of the doctrines contained in the sacred writings, and in the harmony of their parts. To this may be added what is called by some the æsthetic criterion, i.e., the simplicity and sublimity of the diction.

But there are many books which contain revealed doctrines, holy, salutary, sublime, consonant one part with another, written too in an elevated yet simple, unctuous style, and are not nevertheless looked upon by any Christian denomination as having God for their author.²⁸28For example The Imitation of Christ, certain writings of Hermas, and several others. It is clear a criterion of this kind cannot attest the fact of inspiration.

(3) Some profess to find an unanswerable argument in the marvellous spiritual effects which the sacred writings produce on the minds of their readers. This is occasionally designated the empirical criterion; Mr. Tottenham calls it “experimental” which means the same thing.²⁹29He so names it in the Downside Discussion, p. 144. It is to it he alludes when he speaks of the “universal and irresistible power of the Bible in changing the character and saving from suffering and sin”. This criterion falls as far short of the mark, however, as those we have already treated. The effects alluded to are not produced on the minds of all. We wish they were; but as a matter of fact they are not. On the other hand, similar impressions are made on readers by books which are admittedly of mere human origin, and which have no claim to Divine influence. Moreover, the moral elevation of thought, the sorrow for sin, and the pious desires enumerated, are not produced by the Scriptures as a book, but only by the doctrines they contain. And those doctrines are often more effective when spoken in a sermon, in changing the lives of sinners, than when read in the leaves of the sacred volume itself. Yes, a soul-stirring discourse, delivered by a holy and unctuous preacher, who develops those Divine truths with earnest and burning zeal, may rouse in the breast of the multitude feelings of compunction quite as strong, and affections of charity quite as ardent, as those caused by the reading of the most touching passages of the Old or New Testament. And, as Cardinal Wiseman remarks, even as the creation of those edifying impressions does “not prove the preacher’s sermon to be inspired, but only the doctrines he teaches to be good, and, if you please, Divine; so neither can a similar fact prove the Bible inspired, but merely its doctrines to be holy and salutary.”³⁰30Lectures on the Principal Doctrines and Practices of the Catholic Church, Lect. II., p. 48 (edit. 1867).

Further, granting that the Scriptures alone of all existing books evoked feelings of this kind, the argument would have force with those and those only who have experienced them.

Let us not be misunderstood, however. We are far from denying that these holy and ever to be venerated writings have a marvellous, a Divine efficacy; have, on account of the exalted truths they teach, an inborn aptitude to illuminate the human mind and lift man nearer to his Creator; but what we emphatically maintain is,—the interior phenomena in question can never furnish adequate proof of their inspiration.

Sublimity of doctrine, high-toned morality, simple unctuous diction which enlightens spiritually and impresses readers devoutly—these things of themselves are by no means sufficient to demonstrate, that the books of which they are special features were written under the immediate direction of the Holy Ghost. If they were, there could be no reason why the Reformers should not have placed in the canon, which they drew up for themselves, the marvellous epistles of St. Ignatius of Antioch and of St. Polycarp, and also the Imitation of Christ by À Kempis, side by side with some of the epistles of St. John and St. Paul. There is required no great stretch of imagination to picture to ourselves St. Ignatius, or St. Polycarp, writing a history of the career of the young Church down to within a short time of his martyrdom, relating a number of miracles of which he was an eye-witness, and a succession of prophecies of which he personally saw the fulfilment, recording, too, a series of doctrines which he heard from the lips of St. John the Evangelist, or from some of John’s trustworthy disciples, and clothing the whole in a simplicity and unction of style which touched the heart and turned the thoughts of many readers towards heaven; and yet producing a book which, in spite of these precious contents and sublime characteristics, had no recognised claim to that Divine influence which we call inspiration.

But perhaps we may say that what might be aptly named the most interior of all the intrinsic criteria, urged by the defenders of internal evidence, is found in the reasoning of those who hold that the certain knowledge, the “full persuasion,” of the inspiration of the Scriptures, is vouchsafed in the last resort by the Holy Ghost Himself to the soul of the individual Christian.

Those who have taken up this position maintain, that, while people may be moved to a deep veneration of the sacred writings by the testimony of the Church, and by the inspiring potentialities which those writings themselves possess, yet the intimate conviction of their Divine authority must proceed from the testimony of the Holy Ghost in the heart of the Christian, and not from the testimony of man, or of any Church whatever. This view of the matter is set forth in the famous Westminster Confession, chap. i.³¹31The words of number v., chap. i., are the following: “We may be moved and induced by the testimony of the Church to a high and reverend esteem of the holy Scripture, and the heavenliness of the matter, the efficacy of the doctrine, the majesty of the style, the consent of all the parts, the scope of the whole (which is to give all glory to God), the full discovery it makes of the only way of man’s salvation, the many other incomparable excellencies, and the entire perfection thereof, are arguments whereby it doth abundantly evidence itself to be the word of God; yet notwithstanding, our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth, and Divine authority thereof, is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit, bearing witness by and with the word in our hearts.”

It is true that it is rather in Presbyterianism than in Anglicanism that this line of argument finds favour. Still, as the theory is one of the products of the Reformation, and as it is meant to do away with and supply the place of the living voice of the Church, we deem it useful to notice it.

This theory amounts to holding that God not only gives the “Charisma” or grace of inspiration to a chosen writer, but that He gives an equivalent or correlative grace to the casual reader, that this correlative illumination enables him (the reader) to know “or feel” with full knowledge that a certain book is inspired, and enables him also to distinguish it from others which have no claim to supernatural authorship.

The alleged interior light here alluded to is probably something akin to that “gustus” or spiritual relish to which Luther laid claim, and under the influence of which he admitted or rejected books according as they savoured of conformity with, or difference from, his preconceived scheme of doctrine. But there is not a shred of Divine authority on which our separated brethren can base their assumption. There is no record that our Lord ever promised to inspire any reader or even any writer; nor is there any evidence that any Apostle or Evangelist ever claimed the gift of inspiration. And, hence, perhaps the briefest and at the same time the most comprehensive answer to such reasoning is the old axiom in logic: “quod gratis asseritur gratis negatur,” i.e., “what is gratuitously asserted is (may be) gratuitously denied”.

As their position is that of those with whom inspiration remains unproved by any sound argument, it would lead to the awkward inference that they were enlightened from on high to have the firm conviction that a certain book was inspired, which—so far as the logic of their contention was concerned—they had no conclusive reason to believe was inspired at all. We mean, in their “ultra” interior theory they have no solid ground—they do not seem to seek any—for holding the book in question to be of Divine authorship; how then can they, consistently with reason, possess that intimate conviction which attributes to the book such exalted origin?³²32The theory only removes the question from the inspiration of the book to the inspiration of the reader, and as such, nothing is gained in the way of proof, for it is as hard to prove the latter as the former. Of course it is impossible they could have a “full persuasion” which was founded on truth, if these writings were not in reality inspired; but their system being what it is, the fact of the inspiration necessarily remains without proof. It is plain the Holy Ghost could not testify in their hearts that He had inspired those records unless He had truly inspired them: and whether He has actually done so is the very point to be established. Hence, if they are to have a shadow of reason on their side, they must first assume the books to be inspired before they can lawfully or, at least logically, possess the “full persuasion” in question; or else they must hold, that the very fact of their being under such impression or persuasion is of itself sufficient to demonstrate the inspiration of any book in reference to which they have such feeling. But this is to make feeling, erratic imagination, it may be delusion, take the place of sound and solid argument. Surely if there is danger of self-deception in anything in the world it is in this.

Bishop Burnett, in his exposition of the Thirty-nine Articles, referring to the weakness of such contention, says: “This is only an argument to him that feels it, if it is one at all, and, therefore, it proves nothing to another person”.³³33Burnett’s Exposition of the Thirty-nine Articles, on Article VI.

Reasoning, which stands on a foundation so precarious as this, may satisfy the defenders of an invisible Church; it is entirely out of place with those who believe in a visible one.

But let us examine the efficacy of this supposed interior illumination in another and more concrete way.

Suppose a man (the same will apply to a number of men) to have been instructed in the tenets of the Presbyterian, or, if you like, the Anglican Church, in the way in which Christians generally were instructed in the very early centuries, that is, without any reference to the books of the New Testament. Suppose him to have received lessons quite sufficient on all the doctrines necessary to salvation, so far as the Scriptures of the Protestant Canon contain them, or as they are condensed in the Apostles’, Nicene and Athanasian Creeds.

Suppose further that although he was a practical and devout member of the Presbyterian or Anglican Communion, yet, from some cause or another he had never seen a Bible or Testament in his life. Let him be a man of average or even over average intelligence quite as able as the run of men to understand the substance and scope of what he reads. Take him into a library consisting exclusively of books on religion, say translations of the works of the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, sermons by the ablest and holiest preachers belonging to the various denominations of Christendom, conferences on spiritual subjects by the most enlightened authorities, the Imitation of Christ by A Kempis,—a large variety of the most edifying and impressive books to be found.

Place on the same shelves at intervals copies of the four Gospels, of the Acts, of the Epistles and of the Apocalypse, produced each—Gospel, Acts, Epistle, Apocalypse—in separate binding, and without the usual division of verses so there may be no appearance of difference in form. Give him a year or longer, if longer be required, to read the whole; and to make sure that he peruses them throughout, let some trustworthy witness read with him: who can undertake to say that such a man will be able with unerring precision to single out the contents of the New Testament, to distinguish them from the writings of mere human authorship; and that he will be penetrated with the “full persuasion” that they and they alone of the entire collection were written under the direct guidance of the Holy Ghost?

If the theory of interior testimony cannot stand this test, it must disappear from the sphere of practical religion.

We are aware that some of our separated brethren point to the words of St. Paul to St. Timothy, i.e., “All Scripture inspired of God is profitable,”³⁴342 Tim. iii. 16. as establishing the fact of inspiration. We find, too, they appeal to the second epistle of St. Peter as proving the same point: “… As also our most dear brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him, hath written to you. As also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things: in which are certain things hard to be understood, which the unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other Scriptures, to their own destruction.”³⁵352 Peter iii. 15, 16.

To attempt to prove the doctrine of inspiration from the words of either of these great Apostles is simply to beg the question. It is assuming that the words are inspired, which is the very point in dispute; for if they are not presupposed as inspired, they must be taken to be simply human and fallible, and consequently in such a matter afford no incontrovertible proof that the volumes which contain them are the pure word of God.

But granting for the moment, that these sayings of the Prince of the Apostles and the Doctor of the Gentiles proved the Divine origin of a certain and even a large portion of the sacred writings, the cause of the Protestant Canon would not be by any means vindicated. For the words of the two Apostles do not cover the required area. Even if it be allowed that the words of St. Paul to Timothy affirmed the inspiration of the whole collection made when he (St. Paul) wrote these words, still the Apocalypse, and some other books written after that time, manifestly would remain without any Pauline guarantee for their inspiration. Similarly, if St. Peter’s words be taken as canonising the writings of St. Paul, yet the other parts of the New Testament, or, at least, those which like the Apocalypse were written afterwards, would be left without any Petrine guarantee.

But the chief matter is, that unless inspiration be presumed (instead of being the very point in dispute), the words themselves, appearing in a volume whose inspiration was under discussion and therefore doubtful, would lack that Divine authority without which they could not demonstrate the Divine origin of the portions of the sacred books to which they refer.

To all these circuitous subterfuges, be it observed, they are driven through refusing to listen to a living, infallible voice. Once they deny the Divine authority of the Church, every argument they bring forward on this matter is reduced in the last analysis to a “begging of the question”. Franzelin, who is recognised as a very eminent authority on the question, brings out this with much clearness and force. He builds his argument mainly on the nature of inspiration as an invisible fact. The strength of his argument may be expressed as follows: He points out that it (inspiration) is a supernatural, internal fact which cannot possibly be made known to us with infallible certainty, except by the testimony of God Himself. It is true the inspired person may be able to testify that he was inspired in writing a certain letter, but such testimony per se is human and fallible like all mere human testimony, and cannot therefore be the basis of faith. It is the word of God alone that can unerringly declare that a book is inspired, because to Him alone is the fact known. If our opponents fall back upon the testimony of the book itself, and upon statements embodying such testimony, it would be their duty to tell how they came to know that the testimony and the statements of the book were inspired.

These statements cannot possibly prove themselves and must always remain fallible, if we had not the extrinsic testimony of God, mediate or immediate, to have recourse to. Such is the substance of Franzelin’s reasoning on the matter, and it is hard to see how any fair-minded man can hesitate to regard it as thoroughly conclusive.³⁶36Franzelin, 383, Thes. vi.

For these reasons the theory of internal evidence fails to claim the assent of logical thinkers. Such theory has no foundation to rest upon. Neither the miracles and prophecies recorded in the sacred volumes, nor the heavenly nature of their subject-matter, nor the efficacy of the exalted doctrine they contain, nor the simple, sublime unctuousness of the style, nor the marvellous influences they exercise over those who attentively peruse them, nor the interior illumination alleged to be imparted by the Holy Spirit to the soul of the individual reader—none of these things afford a vestige of solid proof of their inspiration. Neither do the words cited from the epistles of St. Peter and St. Paul. Reasoning which is built on arguments such as these may serve as an escape from an awkward dilemma; but we confess we find it difficult to understand how sensible men could be seriously satisfied with it. And hence we are strongly inclined to the opinion, that the Reformers secretly (though it might be almost unconsciously) relied on some external testimony, which they either would not or could not force into definite expression, that these venerated writings had God for their author. They themselves must have felt that the recoil of their theory brought them face to face with a difficulty which no rhetoric, no sophistry however specious or ingenious, could overcome. That is: There was not any trustworthy authority to appeal to with regard to a thing which, if it had concrete existence, was nevertheless invisible.

A voice clear and unerringly definitive, declaring that the Scripture came from a source truly Divine, was not to be had within their communion. So that in their system both in its beginnings and throughout, it was gravely doubtful, whether there was any adequate guarantee for the inspiration of the very record which they had declared was to be thenceforward their rule of faith. But what, if after all, it should come to pass that, while they proclaimed vehemently their favourite contention of Church defection and denied in words the existence of an infallible teacher during the dark centuries, they showed by their acts that they really believed, at least to a certain extent, in the infallibility of the very Church against whose supposed errors they were declaiming! And there is good reason for believing that such was the case.

The very fact of making the Scriptures the basis of their creed proved it. By choosing the sacred volumes as the rule of belief, they proclaimed them to be infallible, although the infallibility embodied therein was not rendered audible by articulate sounds.

But they could not consistently ascribe infallibility to those venerated writings, unless they professed to be certain that they were indubitably inspired, at least as regards the books or parts which they picked out by private judgment as canonical. They did not hesitate, however, to profess distinctly to have certainty on that point.

But how came they to be certain? Internal evidence, as we have seen, could not with any show of reason make them so. From whom did they receive them? On whose testimony did they rely that these records were what they themselves declared them to be?

A voice did not come forth from the dead pages saying: “We contain the inspired Word of God”. Nor did fiery tongues come down from heaven and rest for a time on the covers as an unmistakable token that inspiration was found in its unalloyed completeness within.

Did they not chiefly rely, if not avowedly at least impliedly, on the witness of that Church in whose hands the sacred volumes had been till then, which possessed them at the time, the Church they were charging with idolatry,—the very Church to which they ostensibly and indignantly denied that infallibility which they were then placing in the voiceless letter of Scripture? Yes, there was no other source of reliable information to fall back upon. They were compelled, although with apparent reluctance, to trust her witness; and to such a degree did they trust it, that they declared themselves absolutely sure that these writings were really and without a shred of doubt the true inspired Word of God.

Bishop Milner, in his End of Controversy, brings this out with his usual lucidity and force. He says: “Indeed it is so clear that the Canon of Scripture is built on the tradition of the Church, that most learned Protestants, with Luther himself, have been forced to acknowledge it in terms almost as strong as those in the well-known declaration of St. Augustine”.³⁷37The bishop alludes to the words of St. Augustine: “I would not believe the Gospel if the authority of the Church did not move me thereto”. He quotes Luther’s words which are both plain and to the point. They are these: “We are obliged,” says Luther, “to yield many things to the Papists, that with them is the Word of God which we received from them, otherwise we should have known nothing at all about it”.³⁸38Comment. on John xvi.

Now, how could Luther and his followers receive the Scripture at the hands of the Church, believing it to be the Word of God, and admitting that but for her they would have had no knowledge whatever concerning it, unless they trusted to her testimony that it was truly and undoubtedly the Word of God. Is not this a startling and significant confession from the lips of one who ostensibly denied the existence of a living, infallible voice. Dr. Milner refers also to Hooker and Dr. Lardner as giving witness in the same direction.³⁹39Milner, IX. Letter, p. 87, Rivington’s edition; Quotations—Hooker, Eccl. Polit., Bk. III., viii., 13, 14; Dr. Lardner in Bishop Watson’s Col., vol. ii., p. 20. And to these distinguished names we may add that of another great advocate of Protestantism, Chillingworth. This famous controversialist makes various allusions to the point and in words which are very clear. “It is,” he says, “upon the authority of universal tradition that we would have them believe Scripture. …” “This assertion, that ‘Scripture alone is judge of all controversies in faith’ is … a plain falsehood.” He affirms also that “universal tradition is the rule to judge all controversies by”. He states further: “Neither doth being written make the Word of God more infallible, nor being Unwritten Make It Less Infallible …” “The true Church always shall be the maintainer and teacher of all necessary truth; we grant and must grant, for it is the essence of the Church to be so”.⁴⁰40See Chillingworth’s Religion of Protestants, Answer II., § 114; Answer II., § 155; Answer III., § 45; Answer III., § 78. References taken from The Whole Works of Chillingworth, 12th edition, London, 1836 (italics and capitals mine). It is clear from this Chillingworth believed that there could be found in the Church an infallible “word” without its being written. These statements are but repeating in another form that without the authoritative voice of the Church the Scriptures would be destitute of force. They recognise, as do the words of Luther, that there must be an authority outside the sacred writings themselves to tell us what they are, and the source from which they came. But at the dawn of Reform there was no external tribunal to bear witness concerning them, except the Church which had been their custodian till then. And if it was through her authority the Reformers thus acquired undoubting certainty, that these priceless records were inspired of God, they practically, although with pretended reluctance, recognised her testimony as unerring in that direction and to that extent. Was not this equivalent to admitting that she was infallible in her witness in reference to the very thing which they had chosen to be the foundation of their creed? If it be urged that they accepted the testimony of the Church of the first five centuries, as infallibly declaring the ancient canon which they distinguished from what was designated the “apocrypha” added by Trent, we answer: (1) In their position they had no unerring informant to tell them that the Church of the first five centuries claimed to be infallible, when she declared that canon and gave such testimony in reference to the sacred books. (2) How did the Church of these early centuries know the fact of inspiration except by that universal Divine tradition which is only another name for a living, infallible voice?

But the resources of the Apostles of Reform were not yet exhausted. Some of them had recourse to history, not, however, in the sense of the intrinsic historical criterion we have already noticed. They argued from a different, i.e., from an external standpoint. They maintained that quite independently of any testimony from the fallen Church or from any religious source, they could make out sufficiently from historical “data” that the Scriptures were in reality what they were taken to be. Such reasoning only served to extend the windings of the labyrinth into which their theory had brought them.⁴¹41The historical argument used by Protestants can only prove the authenticity, not canonicity or inspiration, i.e., it can only prove the connection between the writer and the book, not the “nexus” between the Holy Ghost and the writer.

What historian was there in the fourteenth century who could testify with unmistakable security that the Scriptures were the product of an inspired pen? What one in the thirteenth? What one in the twelfth? The same question may be asked with regard to the four or five hundred years that had elapsed before. Every history producible at the era of Reform was the work of an individual or of a few individuals. Those individuals, whether few or many, no matter how learned and painstaking, were liable to err; and consequently in reference to the question at issue they could not give evidence which would lift the matter out of the domain of doubt. That hallowed impulse or Divine “afflatus” which guided the ideas and words of the sacred writers, and which is called “inspiration,” was invisible like the God from whom it came, was inaudible, was entirely imperceptible to human sense, and belonged to a range of things which could not be reached by those whose knowledge of events was necessarily confined to the world of matter, or, whose knowledge of the world unseen was obtained only through the gift of supernatural faith, in the same way as the ordinary Christian has acquired such knowledge.

Hence, if the historian ventured into the sphere of the supernatural, he could only testify (if he was to expect or deserve credence) about things handed down by tradition, or things which previous histories had recorded. And the closest connection which even the earliest Christian historians could have with the question of inspiration was—that it might be their privilege to be the first to narrate, as ocular witnesses, certain miraculous events which, in their direct or indirect bearings on the sacred books, might be thought by competent authority to establish the fact that those books were inspired. And the narration of such events by one isolated historian, independently of external evidence from other sources or independently of exceptional personal admitted claims on his part to particular credence, would not be deemed sufficient to produce a full assurance of their occurrence.

But as to the fact of the inspiration itself, it is no more within the competence of the historian, as such, to affirm or to deny it, to demonstrate or disprove it, than it is to give the exact number of the elect that stand before the eternal throne, or to describe the nature of the beatific vision.

To make the matter still more clear, take the historian of the present generation, whether he be the most edifying clergyman or the most conscientious layman, what can he tell as to this Divine invisible influence? Nothing except what he has heard or learned from external authority, as fallible as his own, unless he fall back on the testimony of the Church herself. Even the Christian chronicler of the century of the Apostles could do no more. Of course, we are speaking of the writer of history in his mere character of historian, that is, of a man who himself has no claim to any exceptional assistance from the Holy Spirit.

The recorder of miraculous events, although he wrote in the days nearest to the time of our Lord, could merely relate those Divine interpositions as he saw them, or as he had heard of them from others. And it would rest with his readers to decide for themselves whether his narration of them, considering his character for truthfulness, and considering the circumstances in which he wrote, was sufficient to bring with it the conviction that they had occurred as he had described them. Even granting that it was certain that they happened exactly in the way he had pointed out, then, if he wished to use any of them as a proof that the Scriptures were the result of special Divine guidance, it would rest again with his readers to judge, whether such miraculous manifestations were adequate to prove to a certainty in the eyes of sensible men the fact of supernatural direction of such a kind. Nearer than this to the question of inspiration no mere historian could go.

To decline, then, to listen to the voice of the Church on this matter, on the plea that her testimony was fallible, and to have recourse to history for testimony more reliable, was, on their own hypothesis, to leave one uncertain source of knowledge and to have recourse to another, which, to say the least, was equally uncertain.

All the histories that had been ever written, whether they came from the pen of saint, sage or sinner, churchman, statesman or philosopher, could not of themselves, at the date of the Reformation, have established beyond dispute that the books, which were then named the Scriptures, were the fruit of direct guidance from heaven.

On the other hand, under these circumstances, to make records which were only doubtfully inspired, the very foundation of faith, was to turn faith into a mist of conjecture and speculation, or, to use something like Macaulay’s metaphor, it was to throw back the whole of Christian revelation into “the twilight of fable”.

Hence, if their test, their very touch-stone of belief was to be a thing of certainty, and to be free from harassing doubt, they were compelled to fall back upon the witness of the Church they had set about reforming, or to accept the hated doctrine of tradition.

This must have been the idea that was present to the mind of Luther when he admitted, in the striking sentence quoted above, that he and his followers had received the word of God at the hands of the Roman Catholic Church, and declared that otherwise they should have known nothing at all about it. And that Chillingworth had a similar conviction is apparent from those sayings of his to which we have alluded. The Apostles of the new religion had to take her testimony for it, if not in all cases openly, at least secretly. The testimony of none other gave them sufficient security to lean upon for their purpose. For it was clear that certainty was not to be obtained from any other quarter.

What then is the inference which reason compels us to draw? Is it not this? The Reformed Churches are obliged to admit that indefectible or constitutional infallibility was an essential element in the Divine plan of the Church under pain of their rule of faith falling to pieces. Either an infallible voice spoke through all the Christian centuries which preceded the era of reform, or it was by necessary consequence a matter of doubt whether the Scriptures were in reality writings of Divine authorship. If they deny permanent infallibility and thus reduce the sacred volumes to the level of doubtfully-inspired chronicles, they are forced to the concession that their religion was conceived in doubt, was born in doubt, was nurtured in doubt, has lived its three centuries of life in doubt, is now and never can be anything else but a bottomless quagmire of doubt.