The other passage “rejected to the margin” is still more instructive.  It is that touching apologue, with its profound ethical sense, of the woman taken in adultery—­which, if internal evidence were an infallible guide, might well be affirmed to be a typical example of the teachings of Jesus.  Yet, say the revisers, pitilessly, “Most of the ancient authorities omit John vii. 53-viii. 11.”  Now let any reasonable man ask himself this question:  If, after an approximate settlement of the canon of the New Testament, and even later than the fourth and fifth centuries, literary fabricators had the skill and the audacity to make such additions and interpolations as these, what may they have done when no one had thought of a canon; when oral tradition, still unfixed, was regarded as more valuable than such written records as may have existed in the latter portion of the first century?  Or, to take the other alternative, if those who gradually settled the canon did not know of the existence of the oldest codices which have come down to us; or if, knowing them, they rejected their authority, what is to be thought of their competency as critics of the text?

People who object to free criticism of the Christian Scriptures forget that they are what they are in virtue of very free criticism; unless the advocates of inspiration are prepared to affirm that the majority of influential ecclesiastics during several centuries were safeguarded against error.  For, even granting that some books of the period were inspired, they were certainly few amongst many, and those who selected the canonical books, unless they themselves were also inspired, must be regarded in the light of mere critics, and, from the evidence they have left of their intellectual habits, very uncritical critics.  When one thinks that such delicate questions as those involved fell into the hands of men like Papias (who believed in the famous millenarian grape story); of Irenaeus with his “reasons” for the existence of only four Gospels; and of such calm and dispassionate judges as Tertullian, with his “Credo quia impossibile”:  the marvel is that the selection which constitutes our New Testament is as free as it is from obviously objectionable matter.  The apocryphal Gospels certainly deserve to be apocryphal; but one may suspect that a little more critical discrimination would have enlarged the Apocrypha not inconsiderably.

At this point a very obvious objection arises and deserves full and candid consideration.  It may be said that critical scepticism carried to the length suggested is historical pyrrhonism; that if we are altogether to discredit an ancient or a modern historian, because he has assumed fabulous matter to be true, it will be as well to give up paying any attention to history.  It may be said, and with great justice, that Eginhard’s “Life of Charlemagne” is none the less trustworthy because of the astounding revelation of credulity, of lack of judgment, and even of respect for the eighth commandment, which he has unconsciously made in the “History of the Translation of the Blessed Martyrs Marcellinus and Paul.”  Or, to go no further back than the last number of the Nineteenth Century, surely that excellent lady, Miss Strickland, is not to be refused all credence, because of the myth about the second James’s remains, which she seems to have unconsciously invented.