of ease or difficulty, the thaumaturgus would
be invited to reproduce his marvellous act under other circumstances,
upon other corpses, in another place. If the miracle succeeded each
time, two things would be proved: First, that supernatural events
happen in the world; second, that the power of producing them belongs,
or is delegated to, certain persons. But who does not see that no
miracle ever took place under these conditions? but that always
hitherto the thaumaturgus has chosen the subject of the experiment,
chosen the spot, chosen the public; that, besides, the people
themselves--most commonly in consequence of the invincible want to see
something divine in great events and great men--create the marvellous
legends afterward? Until a new order of things prevails, we shall
maintain then this principle of historical criticism--that a
supernatural account cannot be admitted as such, that it always
implies credulity or imposture, that the duty of the historian is to
explain it, and seek to ascertain what share of truth or of error it
may conceal.

Such are the rules which have been followed in the composition of
this work. To the perusal of documentary evidences I have been able to
add an important source of information--the sight of the places where
the events occurred. The scientific mission, having for its object the
exploration of ancient Phoenicia, which I directed in 1860 and
1861,[1] led me to reside on the frontiers of Galilee and to travel
there frequently. I have traversed, in all directions, the country of
the Gospels; I have visited Jerusalem, Hebron, and Samaria; scarcely
any important locality of the history of Jesus has escaped me. All
this history, which at a distance seems to float in the clouds of an
unreal world, thus took a form, a solidity, which astonished me. The
striking agreement of the texts with the places, the marvellous
harmony of the Gospel ideal with the country which served it as a
framework, were like a revelation to me. I had before my eyes a fifth
Gospel, torn, but still legible, and henceforward, through the
recitals of Matthew and Mark, in place of an abstract being, whose
existence might have been doubted, I saw living and moving an
admirable human figure. During the summer, having to go up to Ghazir,
in Lebanon, to take a little repose, I fixed, in rapid sketches, the
image which had appeared to me, and from them resulted this history.
When a cruel bereavement hastened my departu