Frauds and Follies of the Fathers: A Review of the Worth of Their Testimony to the Four Gospels

In Short

This critical review examines the intellectual and moral integrity of the Ante-Nicene Church Fathers—the figures responsible for canonizing the four Gospels. The text argues that these men were fundamentally credulous, often relying on "pious frauds," contradictory traditions, and blatant inventions to bolster their theology. By dissecting the writings of figures like Clement, Papias, and Eusebius, the author aims to demonstrate that the historical foundation of the Christian faith is built upon unreliable and frequently dishonest testimony, ultimately questioning the authenticity of the canonical texts themselves.

The Story

The narrative begins with a provocative premise: if the Christian faith demands belief in supernatural events, one must logically scrutinize the character of those who first promulgated these accounts. The author asserts that the "Fathers" are not merely fallible, but often fraudulent, and that their collective testimony is the only bridge between the modern believer and the original claims of the Gospels. If this bridge is built of rot, the author argues, the structure it supports must necessarily collapse.

The investigation proceeds by profiling individual Fathers, beginning with Clement of Rome. His history is described as being shrouded in "mythic dignity," with an array of contradictory writings—including epistles to virgins and various homilies—falsely attributed to him to grant them apostolic authority. The author highlights the absurdity of these "theological romances," noting that even fellow scholars often dismissed these works as collections of "filth and uncleanliness."

The focus then shifts to the "Apostolic Fathers," such as Barnabas and Polycarp. The author recounts the bizarre legends surrounding Barnabas, including the miraculous discovery of his bones to settle territorial ecclesiastical disputes, and dissects his bizarre, allegorical interpretations of Mosaic law—such as the claim that the hare is forbidden because it is a "corrupter of boys." The account of Polycarp’s martyrdom serves as a further critique; the author notes the reliance on supernatural tropes, such as a dove emerging from a dying man’s side, which mirror pagan apotheosis stories rather than objective history.

The argument matures when the author addresses the Fathers' relationship to the Gospels. He reveals that these writers rarely quoted the four canonical Gospels by name, preferring vague references to "the Lord" or traditional oral accounts. When they do cite sayings of Jesus, the wording often conflicts with the canonical texts, suggesting the existence of alternative, now-lost Gospels like the Gospel of the Egyptians or the Gospel according to the Hebrews.

The final chapters target the "historians" of the faith, particularly Eusebius. The author meticulously documents how Eusebius actively altered the works of others, such as Josephus, to make them appear to support Christian doctrine. By demonstrating that Eusebius substituted an "angel" for an "owl" in his transcription of Josephus to align with the Acts of the Apostles, the author illustrates a pervasive culture of literary forgery. The book concludes that because the early Church prioritized "edification" over historical accuracy, the entire edifice of New Testament authenticity is, at best, a product of centuries of pious invention, leaving modern readers with no genuine historical witness to the life of Jesus.

How It Unfolds

The premise of skepticism The author establishes that the credibility of the Gospels rests entirely on the character of the Fathers, whom he characterizes as prone to superstition and deliberate deception. He argues that since these men controlled the selection of scripture, their own untrustworthiness reflects directly upon the legitimacy of the canon.

The anatomy of myth The text examines the "Apostolic" figures, exposing how legends were manufactured to grant authority to various epistles and homilies. By tracing the provenance of these works, the author reveals a chaotic landscape of forgeries and competing traditions that existed long before the modern Bible was finalized.

The failure of testimony The author highlights that the Fathers failed to quote the canonical Gospels as inspired texts, instead relying on oral tradition and apocryphal sources. He uses the examples of Papias and Justin Martyr to show that their "evidence" for the Gospels is either non-existent or describes books entirely different from those currently in our possession.

The historian’s hand The final section shifts to the systematic manipulation of history by figures like Eusebius. The author documents the intentional alteration of non-Christian historical documents to force them into agreement with Christian scripture, arguing that this practice of forgery defines the intellectual legacy of the early Church.

The People

The book focuses on the "Fathers," whom the author treats as a collective class of unreliable witnesses. Clement of Rome appears as a figurehead of confusion, with his name attached to a massive, conflicting bibliography that even Church scholars struggled to authenticate. Barnabas represents the absurdity of the period, as the author mocks his bizarre, moralistic interpretations of animal biology and his role in the Church’s profitable trade in "indubitable relics." Polycarp is depicted as a martyr whose death was embellished with supernatural pageantry, such as the dove emerging from his side, to serve as propaganda for the faithful. Justin Martyr stands as a man who desperately attempted to reconcile Christianity with pagan philosophy, often by inventing or misattributing quotes from the Sibyls and other classical figures to force a connection to Christ. Finally, Eusebius is portrayed as the ultimate dishonest historian, whose willingness to scrub "unhelpful" facts from the works of Josephus demonstrates a professional commitment to dogma over truth, effectively cementing the culture of forgery that the author claims characterizes the early Church’s literary output.

In Its Own Voice

"When, moreover, priests assume authority over conduct on the ground that their Church or their doctrines were God-given, it becomes necessary to investigate how that Church and those doctrines were built up."

The author provides this rationale for his investigation, asserting that the moral character of the Church's founders is a fair subject for historical inquiry.

"No period in the history of the world ever produced so many spurious works as the first two or three centuries of our era."

The author quotes this observation from the contemporary work Supernatural Religion to bolster his claim that forgery was a common, accepted practice among early Christian writers.

"The account of the death of Herod Agrippa ... is stated in the Acts of the Apostles that Herod, as the people were calling him a god, was smitten by an angel and was eaten by worms. Josephus says: 'Agrippa, casting his eyes upward, saw an owl, sitting upon a rope, overhead.'"

The author uses this specific textual comparison to prove that Eusebius intentionally falsified historical records to make them conform to biblical narratives.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that Christianity’s historical claims are not the result of objective record-keeping but of a sustained, multi-century project of literary and historical fabrication. The book explores the tension between "pious fraud"—the idea that a lie can be justified if it serves a holy end—and the modern requirement for evidence-based truth. It raises fundamental questions about how we know what we know about the past: can we trust the testimony of individuals who explicitly believed that deception was a virtue? The book serves as a post-Enlightenment challenge to the tradition of "blind faith," demanding that the history of religion be treated with the same rigorous, skeptical scrutiny applied to any other body of human literature.

Why Read It Today

This book is a challenging, polemical read that will resonate with those interested in the history of biblical criticism and the skeptical tradition of the 19th century. Readers who appreciate forensic historical analysis—or those who harbor a deep, intellectual curiosity about the messy, human origins of religious institutions—will find much to scrutinize here. However, the experience of reading it is demanding. The author’s tone is consistently sharp and confrontational, and his prose is dense with the names of obscure theologians and the technical details of patristic debates.

It is important to note that the book reflects the aggressive, secularizing fervor of its time; it does not strive for neutrality, but rather for the dismantling of its subject. Readers might find the archaic style and the author's relentless, biting sarcasm to be a barrier, particularly if they are unaccustomed to Victorian-era argumentative writing. Yet, for those who stay with it, the book provides a striking perspective on how historical canons are constructed. It leaves the reader with a lingering, provocative question: if the foundation of a belief system is built on the "slime of a serpent"—the author's pointed critique of historical manipulation—can the structure ever be considered truly solid? It is a demanding, polarizing, and deeply skeptical artifact of intellectual history.