Six Discourses on the Miracles of Our Saviour, and Defences of His Discourses — Reading Companion

Miracles as Parables, Not Proofs

He further questions the resurrection of Lazarus, noting that if Lazarus's soul had gone to a blessed state, he would not have feared the Jews afterward. Woolston proposes that the soul might have "hovered about" the body, a notion he offers half-mockingly as a possible compromise between divines and infidels. His method is to expose logical inconsistencies in the literal account, forcing readers to choose between absurdity and a parabolic interpretation.

The Controversy with Contemporary Divines

His rhetorical strategy is to present himself as a loyal Christian who merely applies reason and patristic tradition to scripture, while his opponents are either intellectually dishonest or complicit in a persecuting church. The dedication to Gibson makes this personal dimension explicit, as Woolston contrasts his own love of truth with the bishop's reliance on civil power.

Structure and Voice: A Polemical Performance

Woolston's prose is marked by direct address, rhetorical questions, and a combative first-person presence. He frequently uses phrases like "I can't possibly conceive" and "how will our Divines get over it?" to position himself as the reasonable inquirer against dogmatic authority. The discourse is structured as a series of numbered objections and responses, giving it the feel of a legal or academic disputation. He cites patristic sources by page number (e.g., "St. Hilary [292]") to lend scholarly weight, but his arguments often rely on common sense and logical paradox rather than deep exegesis. The voice is that of a controversialist who enjoys provocation: he calls the Lazarus story "brimful of Absurdities" and suggests that if the letter alone is regarded, the evangelist John (then over a hundred) may have erred. This blend of erudition and irreverence defines Woolston's distinctive polemical style.

Readers should approach Woolston's discourses as a specimen of early eighteenth-century religious controversy, where theological argument is inseparable from personal vendetta and institutional critique. His method—citing fathers, posing logical dilemmas, and insisting on parabolic interpretation—anticipates later historical-critical approaches to the Gospels. Yet his tone remains that of a pamphleteer, not a detached scholar. To assess his claims, one must weigh his patristic evidence against the literalist orthodoxy he attacks, and consider whether his objections are resolved by the allegorical reading he proposes.

I found myself returning to Woolston’s gentle stubbornness, his insistence that a parable is not a lie, and it reminded me of another old friend who taught me patience with uncertainty—Sextus Empiricus and Greek Scepticism — Edition Insights. Both sit quietly on the shelf, asking not for belief, but for a pause.