ROMAN CATHOLIC MIRACLES 1. Mysticism and the Creed, 1914, p. ix.

2. The Sacred Shrine, 1912, p. Xi.

3. The sense of this continuity is very strong among Romanist writers; e. g., R. H. Benson, Lourdes, 1914, p. 59: “These signs shall follow them that believe,” He said Himself; and the history of the Catholic Church is an exact fulfillment of the words. It was so, St. Augustine tells us, at the tombs of the martyrs; five hundred miracles were reported at Canterbury within a few years of St. Thomas’ martyrdom. And now here is Lourdes, as it has been for fifty years, in this little corner of France.”

4. The same general point of view finds expression sometimes in non-Romanist quarters. For example, J. Arthur Hill, The Hibbert Journal, October, 1906, vol. V, p. 118, writes as follows: “Christ’s miracles and resurrection were objective phenomena, and Christianity was based upon them… But belief in Christianity has gradually crumbled away because there has been no continuance of well-attested cognate facts. The Catholic miracles and ecstasies make belief easier for one section of Christianity; but Protestantism—which cuts off miracles at the end of the Apostolic Times—has committed suicide; by making unique events of its basic phenomena it has made continued belief in them impossible.” On this view no man can believe in miracles who has not himself witnessed miracles. Testimony is discredited out of hand; man believes only what he has seen. Must we not go further on this ground? Can a man continue to believe in miracles unless he continues to see them? Is not memory itself a kind of testimony? Must not there be a continuous miracle in order to support continuous faith? We cannot thus chop up the continuity of life, whether of the individual or of the race, in the interests of continuous miracle. Granted that one or the other must be continuous, life or miracle; but both need not be.

5. Above, pp. 17 ff., 61 fi.

6. Romische Geschichte, 1, p. 181.

7. Wunderglaube im Heidentum und in der alten Kirche, 1901, p. 101. 8. 0p. cit., pp. 56-57. 0. Loc. cit. 10. Monasticism and the Confessions of Augustine, E. T., p. 123. 11. History of Dogma, E. T., vol. V, p. 172, note 1. 12. The City of God, book XXI, chap. 1v (Post-Nicene Fathers, vol. II, p. 458). 13. De cura pro mortuis gerenda, c. 12: 15 (Migne, vol. VI, pp. 602 f.). 14. Dialog., IV, 36 (Migne, vol. ITI, p. 384 A).

15. Philopseudes, 25 (The Works of Lucian of Samosata, translated by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler, vol. III, 190s, p. 244).

16. Die christliche Legend des Abendlandes, 1910, p. 111.

17. The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. X, 1911, p. 130.

18. Les Légendes Hagiographiques, 1905, p. 210.

19. Hellenistische Wundererzihlungen, 1906, p. 6.

20. Eusebius, The Preparation for the Gospel, 11: 37 (E. T. by E. H. Gifford, vol. III, pp. 610 {.), quotes it from Plutarch’s treatise On the Soul. Plutarch is speaking of his friend Antyllus. He writes: “For he was ill not long ago, and the physician thought that he could not live; but having recovered a little from a slight collapse, though he neither did nor said anything else showing derangement, he declared that he had died and had been set free again, and was not going to die at all of that present illness, but that those who had carried him away were seriously reproved by their Lord; for, having been sent for Nicandas, they had brought him back instead of the other. Now, Nicandas was a shoe-maker, besides being one of those who frequent the palustre, and familiar and well-known to many. Wherefore the young men used to come and mock him, as having run away from his fate, and as having bribed the officers sent from the other world. It was evident, however, that he was himself at first a little disturbed and disquieted; and at last he was attacked by a fever and died suddenly the third day. But this Antyllus came to life again, and is alive and well, and one of our most agreeable friends.”

21. Psyche?, 1898, vol. II, p. 364, note.

22. Festschrift Theodor Gomperz dargebracht, usw., 1902.

23. « Loc. cil.

23a. Erasmus has some very sensible remarks on the matter

(Epistle 475) which J. A. Froude (Life and Letters of Erasmus, 1804, p. 301) reproduces in a condensed form thus: “This Dialogue [Lucian’s Philopseudes teaches us the folly of superstition, which creeps in under the name of religion. When lies are told us Lucian bids us not disturb ourselves, however complete the authority which may be produced for them. Even Augustine, an honest old man and a lover of truth, can repeat a tale as authentic which Lucian had ridiculed under other names so many years before Augustine was born. What wonder, therefore, that fools can be found to listen to the legends of the saints or to stories about hell, such as frighten cowards or old women. There is not a martyr, there is not a virgin, whose biographies have not been disfigured by these monstrous absurdities. Augustine says that lies when exposed always injure the truth. One might fancy they were invented by knaves or unbelievers to destroy the credibility of Christianity itself.” Miracles, according to Erasmus, did not happen in his time—though they were said to happen. “I have spoken of miracles,” he writes (Froude, p. 351). The Christian religion nowadays does not require miracles, and there are none; but you know that lying stories are set about by crafty knaves.” He describes with his biting satire what happened (and did not happen) when the Protestants took over Basle. Smiths and carpenters were sent to remove the images from the churches. The roods and the unfortunate saints were cruelly handled. Strange that none of them worked a miracle to avenge their dignity, when before they had worked so many at the slightest provocation” (p. 359). No blood was shed; but there was a cruel assault on altars, images, and pictures. We are told that St. Francis used to resent light remarks about his five wounds, and several other saints are said to have shown displeasure on similar occasions. It was strange that at Basle not a saint stirred a finger. I am not so much surprised at the patience of Christ and the Virgin Mary” (p. 360). As to relics and relic-worship: What would Jerome say could he see the Virgin’s milk exhibited for money; with as much honor paid to it as to the consecrated body of Christ; the miraculous oil; the portions of the true cross, enough if they were collected to freight a large ship? Here we have the head of St. Francis, there our Lady’s petticoat or St. Anne’s cowl, or St. Thomas of Canterbury’s shoes; not presented as innocent aids to religion, but as the substance of religion itself—and all through the avarice of priests and the hypocrisy of monks playing on the credulity of the people.. Even bishops play their parts in these fantastic shows, and approve and dwell on them in their rescripts’” (pp. 121 f.).