place on earth; and after it and henceforth, I do not see how we
can scruple at any miracle on the mere ground of its being unlikely
to happen.... When we start with assuming that miracles are not
unlikely, we are putting forth a position which lies embedded, as it
were, and involved in the great revealed fact of the Incarnation. So
much is plain on starting; but more is plain too. Miracles are not
only not unlikely, but they are positively likely; and for this
simple reason, because for the most part, when God begins, He goes
on. We conceive, that when He first did a miracle, He began a series;
what He commenced, He continued: what has been, will be. Surely this
is good and clear reasoning. To my own mind, certainly, it is
incomparably more difficult to believe that the Divine Being should
do one miracle and no more, than that He should do a thousand; that
He should do one great miracle only, than that He should do a
multitude of lesser besides.... If the Divine Being does a thing
once, He is, judging by human reason, likely to do it again. This
surely is common sense. If a beggar gets food at a gentleman's house
once, does he not send others thither after him? If you are attacked
by thieves once, do you forthwith leave your windows open at night?
... Nay, suppose you yourselves were once to see a miracle, would you
not feel the occurrence to be like passing a line? would you, in
consequence of it, declare, 'I never will believe another if I hear
of one?' would it not, on the contrary, predispose you to listen to a
new report? ...

"When I hear the report of a miracle, my first feeling would be of
the same kind as if it were a report of any natural exploit or event.
Supposing, for instance, I heard a report of the death of some public
man; it would not startle me, even if I did not at once credit it,
for all men must die. Did I read of any great feat of valour, I
should believe it, if imputed to Alexander or Coeur de Lion. Did
I hear of any act of baseness, I should disbelieve it, if imputed to
a friend whom I knew and loved. And so in like manner were a miracle
reported to me as wrought by a Member of Parliament, or a Bishop of
the Establishment, or a Wesleyan preacher, I should repudiate the
notion: were it referred to a saint, or the relic of a saint, or the
intercession of a saint, I should not be startled at it, though I
might not at once believe it. And I certainly should be right in
this conduct, supposing my