Eusebius tells us of a man, named Sanctus, who was tortured until his body “was one continued wound, mangled and shrivelled, that had entirely lost the form of man;” and, when the tormentors began again on the same day, he “recovered the former shape and habit of his limbs” ("Eccles. Hist,” bk. v., chap. i.). He then was sent to the amphitheatre, passing down the lane of scourgers, was dragged about and lacerated by the wild beast, roasted in an iron chair, and after this was “at last dispatched!” Other accounts, such as that of a man scourged till his bones were “bared of the flesh,” and then slowly tortured, are given as history, as though a man in that condition would not speedily bleed to death. But it is useless to give more of these foolish stories, which weary us as we toil through the writings of the early Church. Well may Mosheim say that the “Apostolic Fathers, and the other writers, who, in the infancy of the Church, employed their pens in the cause of Christianity, were neither remarkable for their learning nor their eloquence” ("Eccles. Hist,” p. 32). Thoroughly unreliable as they are, they are useless as witnesses of supposed miraculous events; and, in relating ordinary occurrences, they should not be depended upon in any matter of importance, unless they be corroborated by more trustworthy historians.
The last point Paley urges in support of his proposition is, that the accounts contained in “the historical Books of the New Testament” are “deserving of credit as histories,” and that such is “the situation of the authors to whom the four Gospels are ascribed that, if any one of the four be genuine, it is sufficient for our purpose.” This brings us, indeed, to the crucial point of our investigation, for, as we can gain so little information from external


