never been ascertained; a case by no means uncommon.
The emperor’s reserve was easily affected:
or it is possible he might not be in the secret.
There does not seem to be much weight in the observation
of Tacitus, that they who were present continued even
then to relate the story when there was nothing to
be gained by the lie. It only proves that those
who had told the story for many years persisted in
it. The state of mind of the witnesses and spectators
at the time is the point to be attended to. Still
less is there of pertinency in Mr. Hume’s eulogium
on the cautious and penetrating genius of the historian;
for it does not appear that the historian believed
it. The terms in which he speaks of Serapis, the
deity to whose interposition the miracle was attributed,
scarcely suffer us to suppose that Tacitus thought
the miracle to be real: “by the admonition
of the god Serapis, whom that superstitious nation
(dedita superstitionibus gens) worship above all other
gods.” To have brought this supposed miracle
within the limits of comparison with the miracles
of Christ, it ought to have appeared that a person
of a low and private station, in the midst of enemies,
with the whole power of the country opposing him,
with every one around him prejudiced or interested
against his claims and character, pretended to perform
these cures, and required the spectators, upon the
strength of what they saw, to give up their firmest
hopes and opinions, and follow him through a life of
trial and danger; that many were so moved as to obey
his call, at the expense both of every notion in which
they had been brought up, and of their ease, safety,
and reputation; and that by these beginnings a change
was produced in the world, the effects of which remain
to this day: a case, both in its circumstances
and consequences, very unlike anything we find in
Tacitus’s relation.
II. The story taken from the Memoirs of Cardinal
de Retz, which is the second example alleged by Mr.
Hume, is this: “In the church of Saragossa
in Spain, the canons showed me a man whose business
it was to light the lamps; telling me, that he had
been several years at the gate with one leg only.
I saw him with two.” (Liv. iv. A.D. 1654.)
It is stated by Mr. Hume, that the cardinal who relates
this story did not believe it; and it nowhere appears
that he either examined the limb, or asked the patient,
or indeed any one, a single question about the matter.
An artificial leg, wrought with art, would be sufficient,
in a place where no such contrivance had ever before
been heard of, to give origin and currency to the
report. The ecclesiastics of the place would,
it is probable, favour the story, inasmuch as it advanced
the honour of their image and church. And if
they patronized it, no other person at Saragossa,
in the middle of the last century, would care to dispute
it. The story likewise coincided not less with
the wishes and preconceptions of the people than with
the interests of their ecclesiastical rulers:
so that there was prejudice backed by authority, and
both operating upon extreme ignorance, to account
for the success of the imposture. If, as I have
suggested, the contrivance of an artificial limb was
then new, it would not occur to the cardinal himself
to suspect it; especially under the carelessness of
mind with which he heard the tale, and the little
inclination he felt to scrutinize or expose its fallacy.