It may sound paradoxical, but there is really no great boldness in the paradox, when we affirm that at least the high antiquity of the Gospels could be proved, even if not one jot or tittle of the evidence that we have been discussing had existed.

Supposing that all those fragmentary remains of the primitive Christian literature that we have been ransacking so minutely had been swept away, supposing that the causes that have handed it down to us in such a mutilated and impaired condition had done their work still more effectually, and that for the first eighty years of the second century there was no Christian literature extant at all; still I maintain that, in order to explain the phenomena that we find after that date, we should have to recur to the same assumptions that our previous enquiry would seem to have established for us.
Hitherto we have had to grope our way with difficulty and care; but from this date onwards all ambiguity and uncertainty disappears.

It is like emerging out of twilight into the broad blaze of day.

There is really a greater disproportion than we might expect between the evidence of the end of the century and that which leads up to it.

From Justin to Irenaeus the Christian writings are fragmentary and few, but with Irenaeus a whole body of literature seems suddenly to start into being.