[Footnote 1:  Josephus, Ant., XVIII. iii. 3.]

[Footnote 2:  Papias, in Eusebius, Hist.  Eccl., iii. 39.]

[Footnote 3:  Mark iv. 40, v. 15, 17, 33, 36, vi. 50, x. 32; cf.  Matt. viii. 27, 34, ix. 8, xiv. 27, xvii. 6, 7, xxviii. 5, 10; Luke iv. 36, v. 17, viii. 25, 35, 37, ix. 34.  The Apocryphal Gospel, said to be by Thomas the Israelite, carries this feature to the most offensive absurdity.  Compare the Miracles of the Infancy, in Philo, Cod.  Apocr.  N.T., p. cx., note.]

The problem, moreover, presents itself in the same manner with respect to all saints and religious founders.  Things now considered morbid, such as epilepsy and seeing of visions, were formerly principles of power and greatness.  Physicians can designate the disease which made the fortune of Mahomet.[1] Almost in our own day, the men who have done the most for their kind (the excellent Vincent de Paul himself!) were, whether they wished it or not, thaumaturgi.  If we set out with the principle that every historical personage to whom acts have been attributed, which we in the nineteenth century hold to be irrational or savoring of quackery, was either a madman or a charlatan, all criticism is nullified.  The school of Alexandria was a noble school, but, nevertheless, it gave itself up to the practices of an extravagant theurgy.  Socrates and Pascal were not exempt from hallucinations.  Facts ought to explain themselves by proportionate causes.  The weaknesses of the human mind only engender weakness; great things have always great causes in the nature of man, although they are often developed amidst a crowd of littlenesses which, to superficial minds, eclipse their grandeur.

[Footnote 1:  Hysteria Muscularis of Shoenlein.]

In a general sense, it is therefore true to say that Jesus was only thaumaturgus and exorcist in spite of himself.  Miracles are ordinarily the work of the public much more than of him to whom they are attributed.  Jesus persistently shunned the performance of the wonders which the multitude would have created for him; the greatest miracle would have been his refusal to perform any; never would the laws of history and popular psychology have suffered so great a derogation.  The miracles of Jesus were a violence done to him by his age, a concession forced from him by a passing necessity.  The exorcist and the thaumaturgus have alike passed away; but the religious reformer will live eternally.

Even those who did not believe in him were struck with these acts, and sought to be witnesses of them.[1] The pagans, and persons unacquainted with him, experienced a sentiment of fear, and sought to remove him from their district.[2] Many thought perhaps to abuse his name by connecting it with seditious movements.[3] But the purely moral and in no respect political tendency of the character of Jesus saved him from these entanglements.  His kingdom was in the circle of disciples, whom a like freshness of imagination and the same foretaste of heaven had grouped and retained around him.