The year after taking my degree, I made myself fully master of Paley’s acute and original treatise, the “Horae Paulinae,” and realized the whole life of Paul as never before.  This book greatly enlarged my mind as to the resources of historical criticism.  Previously, my sole idea of criticism was that of the direct discernment of style; but I now began to understand what powerful argument rose out of combinations:  and the very complete establishment which this work gives to the narrative concerning Paul in the latter half of the “Acts,” appeared to me to reflect critical honour[3] on the whole New Testament.  In the epistles of this great apostle, notwithstanding their argumentative difficulties, I found a moral reality and a depth of wisdom perpetually growing upon me with acquaintance:  in contrast to which I was conscious that I made no progress in understanding the four gospels.  Their first impression had been their strongest:  and their difficulties remained as fixed blocks in my way.  Was this possibly because Paul is a reasoner, (I asked)? hence, with the cultivation of my understanding, I have entered more easily into the heart of his views:—­while Christ enunciates divine truth dogmatically; consequently insight is needed to understand him?  On the contrary, however, it seemed to me, that the doctrinal difficulties of the gospels depend chiefly either on obscure metaphor or on apparent incoherence:  and I timidly asked a friend, whether the dislocation of the discourses of Christ by the narrators may not be one reason why they are often obscure:  for on comparing Luke with Matthew, it appears that we cannot deny occasional dislocation.  If at this period a German divinity professor had been lecturing at Oxford, or German books had been accessible to me, it might have saved me long peregrinations of body and mind.

About this time I had also begun to think that the old writers called Fathers deserved but a small fraction of the reverence which is awarded to them.  I had been strongly urged to read Chrysostom’s work on the Priesthood, by one who regarded it as a suitable preparation for Holy Orders; and I did read it.  But I not only thought it inflated, and without moral depth, but what was far worse, I encountered in it an elaborate defence of falsehood in the cause of the Church, and generally of deceit in any good cause.[4] I rose from the treatise in disgust, and for the first time sympathized with Gibbon; and augured that if he had spoken with moral indignation, instead of pompous sarcasm, against the frauds of the ancient “Fathers,” his blows would have fallen far more heavily on Christianity itself.