\>« ^M Of PRINCf^ ^OtOfilCAL Stt*^*^ THE LIFE 4 OF |JESUS, THE CHKIST. BY > HENRY WAED BEECHER. " But when the fiikiess of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law." — Gal. iv. 4, 5. NEW YORK: J. B. FORD AND COMPANY. ! EDINBURGH AND LONDON: THOMAS NELSON & SONS. \ \AU rights reserved.] \ « Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S71, BY J. D. FORD AND COMPANY, in the OfiSce of ttie Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 10'/ -' • . •*. • Univi'rsity Press : Welch, Bicelow, & Co., Cambridge. PREFACE. I HAVE undertaken to write a Life of Jesus, the Christ, in the hope of inspiring a deeper interest in the noble Personage of whom those matchless his- t nes, the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, are the chief authentic memorials. I have en- dear -ed to present scenes that occurred two thousand years ago as they would appear to modern eyes if the events had taken place in our day. The Lives of Christ which have appeared of late years have naturally partaken largely of the dialectic and critical spirit. They have either attacked or de- fended. The Gospel, like a city of four gates, has been taken and retaken by alternate parties, or held in part by opposing hosts, while on every side the marks of siege and defence cover the ground. This may be unfortunate, but it is necessary. As long as great earning and acute criticism are brought to assail the text of the Gospels, their historic authenticity, the truth of their contents, and the ethical nature of their teachings, so long must great learning and sound phi- losophy be brought to the defence of those precious documents. iv PREFACE. But such controversial Lives of Christ are not the best for general reading. While they may lead scholars from doubt to certainty, they are likely to lead plain people from certainty into doubt, and to leave them there. I have therefore studiously avoid- ed a polemic spirit, seeking to produce conviction without controversy. Joubert ^ finely says : " State truths of sentiment, and do not try to prove them. There is danger in such proofs ; for in arguing it is necessary to treat that which is in question as something problematic ; now that which we accustom ourselves to treat as problematic ends by appearing to us as really doubt- ful. In things that are visible and palpable, never prove what is believed already ; in things that are certain and mysterious, — mysterious by their great- ness and by their nature, — make people believe them, and do not prove them ; in things that are matters of practice and duty, command, and do not explain. * Fear God ' has made many men pious ; the proofs of the existence of God have made many men atheists. From the defiance sjDrings the attack; the advocate begets in his hearer a wish to pick holes ; and men are almost always led on from a desire to contradict the doctor to the desire to contradict the doctrine. Make Truth lovely, and do not try to arm her." The history of the text, the authenticity of the ^ As quoted by Matthew Arnold, Essays in Criticism, p. 234 (London ed.), 1865. PREFACE. Y several narratives, the many philosophical questions that must arise in such a field, I have not formally dis- cussed ; still less have I paused to dispute and answer the thousands of objections which swarm around the narrative in the books of the sceptical school of criti- cism. Such a labor, while very important, would con- stitute a work quite distinct from that which I have proposed, and would infuse into the discussion a con- troversial element which I have especially sought to avoid, as inconsistent with the moral ends which I had in view. I have however attentively considered whatever has been said, on every side, in the works of critical objectors, and have endeavored as far as possible so to state the facts as to take away the grounds from which the objections w^ere aimed. "Writing in full S3anpathy with the Gospels as au- thentic historical documents, and with the nature and teachings of the great Personage whom they describe, it is scarcely necessary to say that I have not attempt- ed to show the world what Matthew and John ought to have heard and to have seen, but did not; nor what things they did not see or hear, but in their simplicity believed that they did. In short, I have not invented a Life of Jesus to suit the critical phi- losophy of the nineteenth century. The Jesus of the four Evano-elists for wellnio-h two O D thousand years has exerted a jDOwerful influence upon the heart, the understanding, and the imagination of Vi PREFACE. mankind. It is that Jesus, and not a modern substitute, whom I have sought to depict, in his life, his social re- lations, his disposition, his deeds and doctrines. This work has been delayed far beyond the expec- , tation of the pubhshers, without fault of theirs, but simply because, with the other duties incumbent upon me, I could not make haste faster than I have. Even after so long a delay the first Part only is ready to go forth ; and for the second I am obliged to solicit the patience of my readers. But I aim to complete it within the year. The order of time in the four Evangelists has always been a perplexity to harmonists, and it seems likely never to be less. But this is more especially characteristic of details whose value is little affected by the question of chronological order, than of the great facts of the life of Jesus. I have followed, though not without variations, the order given by Ellicott,^ and especially Andrews.^ But a recent " Gospel History Consolidated," pub- lished in London by Bagster,^ so generally accords with these that I have made it the working basis; and, instead of cumbering the margin with references to the passages under treatment, have preferred to reproduce at the end of this volume a corresponding portion of the text of the " Gospels Consolidated," by * nistorkal Lectures on the Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ. C. J. EUicott. * 77/e Life of Our Lord upon Earth. Samuel J. Andrews. * Imported and sold in the United States by John Wiley and Son, New York. PREFACE. yii a reference to which, chapter by chapter, those who wish to do so will find the groundwork on which this Life is founded. Although the general arrangement of the " Gos- pels Consolidated " has been followed/ it will be seen that I have frequently deviated from it in minor mat- ters. For example, believing that the reports of the Sermon on the Mount, as given in Matthew and in Luke, are but two separate accounts of the one dis- course, I have not treated Luke's account as the rec- ord of a second delivery of the same matter, as is sometimes done. The two narrations of the discourse and uproar at Nazareth I have regarded as referring to but a single transaction, while the " Gospels Con- sohdated" treats them as separate events. But such differences in mere arrangement are inevitable, and not important. No two harmonists ever did agree in all particulars, and it is scarcely possible that any two ever will. The very structure of the Gospels makes it wellnigh impossible. They are not like the " dis- sected maps," or pictures, whose severed parts can, with some patience, be fitted together into the origi- nal whole, a hundred times exactly alike. They are httle more, often, than copious indexes of a volumi- nous life, without dates or order. It is not probable ^ I would not be understood as recommending the " Gospels Consoli- dated" as a substitute for the four Gospels, but as an auxiliary. The fulness with which transactions are there made to stand out will help the common reader to attain conceptions to which scholars come by a laborious intercomparison of the four narratives. VUl PREFACE. that a single note was taken, or a line written, in Christ's lifethne. The Gospels are children of the memory. They were vocally delivered hundreds of times before being written out at all ; and they bear the marks of such origin, in the intensity and vivid- ness of individual incidents, while chronological order and literary unity are but little regarded. In the arrangement of particulars, therefore, when no clew to the real order of time could be found, I have felt at liberty to select such order as would best helj) the general impression. That this work may carry to its readers the rich- est blessing which I can imagine, a sympathetic in- sight into the heart of its great subject, Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the world, and a vital union with him, is my earnest wish and devout prayer. HENKY WARD BEECHEE. Brooklyn, N. Y., August, 1871. COS"TEI^TS OF PAET I. CHAPTER I. Page Introductory 1 CHAPTER II. The Overture op Angels • . .11 CHAPTER III. The Doctrinal Basis 44 CHAPTER IV. Childhood and Residence at Nazareth .... 54 CHAPTER V. The Voice in the Wilderness 82 CHAPTER VI. The Temptation 114 CHAPTER VII. Jesus, his Personal Appearance 134 CHAPTER VIII. The Outlook 156 CHAPTER IX. The Household Gate 181 X CONTENTS. CHAPTEE X. The First Jud^an Ministry 200 CHAPTEE XI. The Lesson at Jacob's Well 229 CHAPTEE XII. Early Labors in Galilee 253 CHAPTEE XIII. A Tdie of Joy 280 CHAPTEE XIV. The Sermon on the Mount. — The Beatitudes . . . 305 CHAPTEE XV. The Sermon on the Mount {continv^d) .... 331 CHAPTEE XVI. The Beginning of Conflict 364 CHAPTEE XVII. Around the Sea of Galilee 399 APPENDIX ......... 433 INDEX 513 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIO:^S. ENGEAVING ON STEEL. Head op Christ. Restored, painted, and engraved by W. E. Marshall ........ Frontispiece. After photograph of the rapidly decaying Supper Scene of Leonakdo DA Vinci, at Milan. 96 ENGRAYINGS ON WOOD. 1. Scene on the Upper Jordan. A Swamp op Papyrus Eeeds, (Full page. )••.•••.••. The idea and general view were taken from MacGregor's most interest- ing "Rob Roy on the Jordan" ; but the scene is worked up anew, and the reads are studied from both the Syrian and the Egyptian papyrus. The view is found among the upper sources of the Jordan ; looming above the horizon, to the north, is the "rounded head of splendid, glittering Hermon," while, to the left, is seen "thefar-oflF snow on the sharp indented Sunnin, chief of the Lebanon range." 2. Heads of Christ. (Fuiipage.) 134 Out of the multitudes of heads giving artistic fancies as to the personal look of Jesus, six have been selected as representative. First is that of Leonardo da Vinci (b. 1452, d. 1519), reproduced in the frontis- piece. On the page facing p. 102 are five : No. 1. From the earliest picture of Christ that is known, a fresco in the Catacombs of St. Calixtus, near Rome, fourth century ; No. 2. From an emerald in- taglio of the sixth century, now in Rome, given out of the treasury of Constantinople to Pope Innocent VIIL for the redemption of the' brother of the Emperor of the Turks, then a prisoner of the Christians ; No. 3. From a Pieid, or "Dead Christ," by the Italian painter Rai- bolini of Bologna, known as Francisco Francia (b. 1450, d. 1517); No. 4. From a crucifix by Albrecht Diirer, the great German painter and engraver (b. 1471, d. 1528) ; No. 5. From a painting by Paul de la Roche, the French painter (b. 1797, d. 1856). Xll LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 3. General Map of Palestine. (Two pages.) . . . .160 4. Plan of the Temple, according to Fergusson's restoration . 204 The ground plan is given below, and above is a longitudinal section, on an east and west line, showing the elevation of the different jwrtions. 5. 3£ap. Vicinity of Nazareth and Capernaum, Galilee . 305 G. The Lake of Genesareth, or Sea of Galilee . . .416 Northeasterly view, from the northwestern shore of the lake across to- wards Bethsaida and Tell Hum, or Capernaum. MAPS. Constructed hy A. L. Rawson. — Engraved hy G. W. & C. B. Colton & Co. In preparing the Maps, use was made of the latest works of Van de Velde and of the French and Enghsh surveys, these being correct- ed by every means of hxter information accessible. The General Map comprises the whole countiy visited by Jesus (except the journey in infancy to Egypt), giving but a few of the most important names. The Vicinity op Nazareth and Capernaum is quite full in de- tail, showing how many towns there are or were in this region (though nearly one half of the whole have been omitted, to avoid crowding). * The Plan of the Temple of Herod is after Fergusson. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. How well the Hebrew Priest, but especially the Prophet, had done his work, may best be seen in that moral element which made Judaism to religion what the Greek spirit had been to the intellectual life of the world. Nowhere out of Judaea were to be found such passionate moral fervor and such intense spiritual yearnings. But this .spirit had spent itself as a for- mative power; it had already overshot the multitude, while higher natures were goaded by it to excess. There was need of a new religious education. This was the desire and expectation of the best men of the Jewish Church. How their spiritual quickening was to come, they knew not. That it was coming was generally believed, and also that the approach- ing deliverance would in some mysterious way bring God nearer to men. "Of the day and of the hour" knew no man. The day had come when a new mani- festation of God was to be made. A God of holiness, a God of power, and a God of mercy had been clearly revealed. The Divine Spirit was now to be clothed with flesh, subjected to the ordinary laws of matter, placed in those conditions in which men live, become the subject of care, weariness, sorrow, and of death itself. 2 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHIIIST. The history of this di^dne incarnation we are now to trace, in so far as the rehgious knowledge which has sprung from it can be carried back to its sources, and be made to illustrate the sublime truths and events of the Lord's earthly mission. Since there are four inspired lives of our Lord, — two of them by the hands of disciples who were eye-wit- nesses of the events recorded, namely, those by Mat- thew and John, and two, those of Mark and Luke, by men who, though not disciples, were yet the com- panions of the Apostles, and derived their materials, in part, from tliem, — why should it be necessary to frame other histories of Jesus, the Christ? Since the mate- rials for any new life of Christ must be derived from the four Evangelists, is it likely that uninspired men, after a lapse of nearly nineteen hundred years, can do better than tJiei/ did who were either witnesses or contemporaries of the Lord, and who were appointed and guided by the Divine Spirit to make a record of truth for all time ? The impression produced by such suggestions will be materially modified upon a close examination of the Gospels. 1. The very fact that there are four lives, which strikes one as a fourfold blessing, and which surely is an advantage, carries with it also certain disadvan- tages. For a clear view of the life and teachings of our Lord, four fields are to be reaped instead of one. The early ages needed testimony; our age needs teaching. Four witnesses are better for testimony. But for biography one complete narrative, combining in it the materials of the four, would have given a pic- INTRODUCTORY. 3 ture of our Lord more in accordance with the habits and wants of men in our day. This diversity of witnesses subserves other important ends. No single man could have represented all sides of the Saviour's teaching. A comparison of Matthew's Gospel with that of John will show how much would have been lost, had there been only a single collector and reporter of Christ's discourses. It is not easy, even for one trained to investigation, to gather out of the four Evangelists a clear and con- sistent narrative of our Lord's ministry; and still less will unstudious men succeed in doing it. No one will deny that every Christian man should seek a comprehensive, and not a fragmentary, knowl- edge of his Lord. In other words, every Christian reader seeks, for himself, out of the other four, to weave a fifth life of Christ. Why should not this in- dispensable work be performed for men, with all the aids of elaborate investioration? 2. The impression derived from this general view is greatly strengthened by a critical examination of the contents of the Gospels. It is one of the striking facts in history, that One whose teachings were to revolutionize human ideas, and to create a new era in the world's affairs, did not commit a single syllable to paper, and did not organize a single institution. An unlimited power of acting upon the world without these subsidiary and, to men, indispensable instruments, — viz. writing and organiza- tion, — and only by the enunciation of absolute truths in their relation to human conduct, is one of the marks of Divinity. There is no evidence that Jesus appointed any of his 4 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. disciples to perform the work of an historian. None of them cLaim such authorization. Only Luke ^ makes any reference to the motives which led him to under- take the task of writing, and he claims no other than a personal desire to record a knowledge which he deemed fuller than that of others. The four Gospels are evidently final and authorita- tive collections of oral histories and compilations of narratives which were already circulating among the early Christians. In the cases of Matthew and John, these materials were wrought ujDon the fabric of their own personal observation and experience. There is in none of them any consistent regard to the order of time or of place. The principle of arrange- ment evidently is to be found in the moral similari- ties of the materials, and not in their chronological se- quences. Different events are clustered together which were widely separated. Whole chapters of parables are given as if they had been delivered in a single discourse. We should never have known from Mat- thew, Mark, or Luke, that our Lord was accustomed to go up to Jerusalem to the great Jewish feasts ; but we do get it from John, who is mainly concerned with the history and discourses of his Master in Judaea. Matthew, on the other hand, bestows his attention uj^on that part of the Saviour's life which was spent in Galilee. Moreover, he seldom enters, as John does, * Luke i. 1-4. "Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those things which are most surely believed among us, even as they delivered them unto us, which from the beginning were eye- witnesses, and ministers of the word ; it seemed good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to Avritc unto thee in order, most excellent Theophihis, that thou mightest know the certainty of those tlungs wherein thou hast been instructed." INTRODUCTORY. 5 upon interior and profoundly spiritual experiences. John almost as little notices the merely external facts and events of the Lord's life, which Matthew habitually reo-ards.-^ o In their structure the Evangelical narratives have been well compared to Xenophon's Memorabilia of Socrates. They are clusters of events, parables, mir- acles, discourses, in which the order of time is some- times obscure, and sometimes wholly inverted. In every age of the Church it has been deemed wise to attempt to form a harmony of the four Gospels. Since the year A. D. 1500, there have been more than fftfj harmonies made by most eminent Christian schol- ars. Of Lives of Christ and Harmonies there have been more than one hundred and fifty. But for some such help, the difficulties arising from a comparison of the different narratives would be insolu- ble. Many obstacles are thus removed, many apparent contradictions are congruously explained, many appar- ent inconsistencies are harmonized ; and it is shown that, of the inexplicable facts remaining, none are im- portant, — certainly not as respects the great truths or the essential events of the narrative. 3. It is probable that no equal amount of truth was ever expressed in a mode so well fitted for universal circulation. And yet, as the Gospels were written by ' "The first three Evangelists describe especially those things which Christ did in our flesh, and relate the precepts which He delivered on the duties to be performed by us. while we walk on earth and dwell in the flesh. But St. John soars to heaven, as an eagle, above the clouds of human infirmity, and reveals to us the mysteries of Christ's Godhead, and of the Trinity in Unity, and the felicities of Life Eternal, and gazes on the Light of Lnmuta- ble Truth with a keen and steady ken." — Si. Aufjustine, translated hij Dr. Wordsworth. Introduction to Commentaries on the New Testament. 6 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. Jews, and with primary reference to certain wants of the age in which the writers Hved, they are full of allusions, references, customs, and beliefs, w^liich have long since passed away or have become greatly modi- fied. There are also in the New Testament allusions to customs of which there is no knowledge whatever preserved. But far more important is it to observe the habits of thought, the whole mental attitude of the Apostolic age, and the change which has since come upon the world. Truths remain the same ; but every age has its own style of thought. Although this difference is not so great as is the difference between one language and another, it is yet so great as to require restatement or, as it were, translation. The truth which Paul argues to the Romans is as important for us as it was for them. But we are not Jews.^ We care nothing for circum- cision. The Hebrew law has never entangled us. We have our prejudices and obstinacies, but they are not the same as those which the Aj^ostle combated. The truth of the Epistle to the Romans, when sepa- rated from the stalk and ear on which it grew, is of universal nutriment. But in Paul's own day the stem and the husk also were green and succulent ; they were living and indispensable parts of his statement of the truth. Far less is this distinction applicable to the Gospels, and yet it is, in a measure, true of them. Our age has developed wants no deeper, perhajDS, nor more important, than those in the Apostolic age, ^ Jews were dispersed through all the civilized world, and in general, both in Greek and Roman cities, there were synagogues, in which the Old Testament Scriptures were read, and in which the Apostles made known to their own countrymen the fulfilment of those Scriptures in the history of our Lord. Sec Acts 28 : IG - 24. INTRODUCTORY. J but needs essentially different. We live for different ends. We have other aspirations. We are plagued with new infidelities of our own. We are proud in a different way, and vain after our own manner. To meet all these ever-changing necessities of the human heart and of society, men are ordained to preach the gospel. If merely reading the text as it was originally delivered were enough, why should there be preachers ? It is the business of preachers to re-adapt truth, from age to age, to men's ever-renewing wants. And what is this, but doing by single passages of Scripture what a Life of Christ attempts to do system- atically, and in some dramatic form, for the whole? Some have said, almost contemptuously, " The only good Lives of Christ are those by the four Evangelists." And yet these very men are so little content with these same Evangelists, that they spend their hves in restat- ing, illustrating, and newly applying the substance and matter of the Evangelical writings, — thus by their own most sensible example refuting their own most foohsh criticism ! 4. But there are reasons yet deeper why the Life of Christ should be rewritten for each and every age. The life of the Christian Church has, in one point of view, been a gradual unfolding and interpretation of the spiritual truths of the Gospels. The knowledge of the human heart, of its yearnings, its failures, its sins and sorrows, has immensely increased in the progress of centuries. Has nothing been learned by the Christian world of the methods of moral government, of the communion of the Holy Ghost, of the power of the Divine Spirit to cleanse, enrich, and fire the soul, after so many centu- 8 TEE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. ries of experience ? Has this world no lore of love, no stores of faith, no experience of joy unfolded from the original genns, which shall fit it to go back to the truths of the New Testament with a far larger understanding of their contents than the?/ had who wrote them ? Proph- ets do not always imderstand their own visions ; Apos- tles deliver truths which are far deeper, and more glorious in their ulterior forms, than even their utterers suspect. It is both a privilege and a duty of the Church of Christ to gather up, from time to time, these living commentaries upon divine truth, — these divine inter- pretations, by means of human experience, of the truth as it is in Jesus, — and carry back this hght and knowl- edge to the primal forms and symbols. Our Lord him- self declared that his kingdom of truth was as a seed. But what shall interpret a seed like its own growth and harvest ? To us the narratives of the Gospel ought to mean far more than to the primitive disciple, or they have been germs without development, seed without a harvest. All critics of the Gospels, though, in each group, differing by many shades among themselves, may be reduced to two classes : — 1. Those who believe that the writings of the Evan- gelists are authentic historical documents, that they were divinely inspired, and that the supernatural ele- ments contained in them are real, and to be credited as much as any other parts of the history; and, — 2. Those wdio deny the inspiration of the Gosf)els, regarding them as unassisted human productions, filled with mistakes and inaccuracies ; especially, as filled with superstitions and pretended miracles. INTRODUCTORY. 9 These latter critics set aside all traces of the super- natural. They feel at liberty to reject all miracles, either summarily, with "philosophic" contempt, or by explanations as wonderful as the miracles are marvel- lous. In effect, they act as if there could be no evi- dence except that which addresses itself to the ma- terial senses. Such reasoning chains philosophy to matter : to which statement many already do not ob- ject, but boldly claim that, in our present condition, no truth can be Jcnown to men except that which con- forms itself to physical laws. There is a step further, and one that must soon be taken, if these reasons are logically consistent; namely, to hold that there is no evidence of a God, unless Nature be that God. And this is Pantheism, which, being interpreted, is Atheism. We scarcely need to say, that we shall take our stand with those who accept the New Testament as a collec- tion of veritable historical documents, with the record of miracles, and with the train of spiritual phenomena, as of absolute and literal truth. The miraculous ele- ment constitutes the very nerve-system of the Gospel. To withdraw it from credence is to leave the Gospel histories a mere shapeless mass of pulp. What is left when these venerable records are stripped of the ministry of angels, of the mystery of the divine incarnation, of the wonders and miracles which accompanied our Lord at every step of his career? Christ's miracles were not occasional and occult, but in a long series, with every degree of publicity, involving almost every element of nature, and in numbers so great that they are summed up as comprehending whole villages, towns, and neighborhoods in their bene- factions. They produced an excitement in the public 10 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. mind so great that ofttimes secrecy was enjoined, lest the Roman government should interfere. That Christ should be the centre and active cause of such stufjcndous imposture, on the supposition that miracles were but deceptions, shocks the moral feeling of those even who disbelieve his divinity. Widely as men differ on every topic connected with the Christ, there is one ground on which all stand together, namely, that Jesus was good. Even Infidelity would feel bereaved in the destruction of Christ's moral character. But to save that, and yet to explain away the miracles which he wrought, has put ingenuity to ludicrous shifts. Rexax, to save the character of his poetic hero, is obliged to depict him as the subject of an enthusiasm which grew upon him until it became a self-deceiving fanaticism. It seems, then, that the whole world has been under the influence of one who was not an impos- tor, only because he Avas mildly insane ! That such a conclusion should give no pain to men utterly destitute of religious aspirations may well be conceived. But all others, lookmg upon this wanton and needless procedure, will adojot the language of Mary, and say, " They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him." THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 11 CHAPTER II. THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. Had it been the design of Divine Providence that the Gospels should be wrought up like a poem for lit- erary and artistic effect, surely the narrative of the angelic appearances would have glowed in all the colors of an Oriental morning. They are, indeed, to those who have an eye to discern, a wonderful and ex- quisitely tinted prelude to the dawn of a glorious day. It is not to be supposed that the earth and its dull in- habitants knew what was approaching. But heavenly spirits knew it. There was movement and holy ecstasy in the Upper Air, and angels seem, as birds when new- come in spring, to have flown hither and thither, in songful mood, dipping their white wings into our at- mosphere, just touching the earth or glancing along its surface, as sea-birds skim the surface of the sea. And yet birds are far too rude, and wings too burden- some, to express adequately that feeling of unlabored angelic motion which the narrative produces upon the imagination. Their airy and gentle coming would per- haps be better compared to the glow of colors flung by the sun upon morning clouds that seem to be born just where they appear. Like a beam of light striking through some orifice, they shine upon Zacharias in the Tetnple. As the morning light finds the flowers, so found they the mother of Jesus. To the shepherds' 12 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. eyes they filled the midnight arch like auroral beams of light ; but not as silently, for they sang, and more marvellously than when "the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy." The new era ojoens at Jerusalem. The pride with which a devout Jew looked ujoon Jerusalem can scarcely be imagined in our prosaic times. Men loved that city with such passionate devotion as we are accustomed to see bestowed only on a living per- son. When the doctrine of immortality grew more distinctly into the belief of holy men, no name could be found which would make the invisible w^orld so attractive as that of the beloved city. New Jeru- salem was the chosen name for Heaven. Upon this city broke the morning rays of the Advent. A venerable priest, Zacharias, belonging to the retinue of the Temple, had spent his wdiole life in the quiet offices of religion. He was married, but childless. To him happened a surprising thing. It was his turn to burn incense, — the most honor- able function of the priestly office. Upon the great altar of sacrifice, outside the holy ^^lace, the burnt- offering w^as placed. At a signal the priest came forth, and, taking fire from this altar, he entered the inner and more sacred place of the Temjole, and there, before the altar of incense, putting the fragrant gum upon the coals, he swung the censer, filling the air with wreaths of smoke. The people who had gath- ered on the outside, as soon as the smoke ascended silently sent up their prayers, of Avhich the incense was the symbol. " And there appeared unto him an angel of the Lord, standing on the right side of the altar." THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 13 That he trembled with fear and awe is apparent from the angel's address, — "Fear not!" The key- note of the new dispensation was sounded! Here- after, God was to be brought nearer, to seem less terrible ; and a religion of the spirit and of love was soon to dispossess a religion of ceremonials and of fear. " Fear not, Zacharias : for thy prayer is heard ; And thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son, And thou shalt call his name John. And thou shalt have joy and gladness ; And many shall rejoice at his birth. For he shall be great in the sight of the Lord, And shall drink neither wine nor strong drink ; And he shall be filled with the Holy Ghost even from his mother's womb. And many of the children of Israel shall he turn to the Lord their God. And he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias, To turn the hearts of the parents to the children, And the disobedient to the wisdom of the just ; To make ready a people prepared for the Lord." If this address, to our modern ears, seems stately and formal, it is to be remembered that no other lan- guage would seem so fit for a heavenly message to a Jewish priest as that which breathed the spirit of the Old Testament writings; and that to us it savors of the sermon because it has since been so often used for the purposes of the sermon. But the laws of the material world seemed to the doubting priest more powerful than the promise of that God who made all physical laws. To this distinct promise of a son who should become a great reformer, and renew the power and grandeur of the prophetic office, he could only say, "Whereby shall I know this ? " His doubts should have begun earlier, or 14 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. not at all. He should have rejected the whole vision, or should have accepted the promise implicitly; for what sign could be given so assuring as the very presence of the angel ? But the sign which he asked was given in a way that he could never forget. His speech departed ; silence was the sign ; — as if the priest of the Old was to teach no more rmtil the com- ing of the New. When Zacharias came forth to the people, who were already impatient at his long delay, they per- ceived by his altered manner that some great experi- ence had befallen him. He could not speak, and could dismiss them only by a gesture. We have no certainty whether this scene occurred at a morning or an evening service, but it is supposed to have been at the evening sacrifice. In that case the event was an impressive symbol. The people be- held their priest standing against the setting sun, dumb, while they dispersed in the twilight, the shadow of the Temple having already fallen upon them. The Old was passing into darkness; to-morrow another sun must rise ! Elisabeth, the wife of Zacharias, returned to the " hill- country," or that region lying west and south of Jeru- salem. The promise had begun to be fulfilled. All the promises made to Israel were pointing to their ful- filment through her. These promises, accumulating through ages, were ample enough, even in the letter, to fill a devout soul with ardent expectancy. But falling upon the imagination of a greatly distressed people, they had been magnified or refracted until the public mind was filled with inordinate and even fantastic ex- pectations of the Messianic reign. It is not probable THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 15 that any were altogether free from this dekision, not even the soberest and most spiritual natures. We can therefore imagine but faintly the ecstatic hopes of Zacharias and Elisabeth during the six months in which they were hidden in their home among the hills before the history again finds them. They are next introduced through the story of another memorable actor in this drama, the mother of our Lord. It is difficult to speak of Mary, the mother of Jesus, both because so little is known of her and because so much has been imagined. Around no other name in history has the imagination thrown its witching light in so great a volume. In art she has divided honors with her divine Son. For a thousand years her name has excited the profoundest reverence and worship. A mother's love and forbearance with her children, as it is a universal experience, so is it the nearest image of the divine tenderness which the soul can form. In attempting to present the Divine Being in his relations to universal government, men have well-nigh lost his personality in a sublime abstraction. Those traits of personal tenderness and generous love which alone will ever draw the human heart to God, it has too often been obliged to seek elsewhere. And, how- ever mistaken the endeavor to find in the Virgin Mary the sympathy and fond familiarity of a divine fostering love, it is an error into which men have been drawn by the profoundest needs of the human soul. It is an error of the heart. The cure will be found by revealing, in the Divine nature, the longed-for traits in greater beauty and force than are given them in the legends of the mother of Jesus. Meanwhile, if the doctors of theology have long 16 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. hesitated to deify the Virgin, art has imconsciously raised her to the highest place. There is nothing in attitude, expression, or motion which has been left un- tried. The earlier Christian painters were content to express her pure fervor, without relying upon the ele- ment of beauty. But as, age by age, imagination kindled, the canvas has given forth this divine mother in more and more glowing beauty, borrowing from the Grecian spirit all that was charming in the high- est ideals of Venus, and adding to them an clement of transcendent purity and devotion, which has no paral- lel in ancient art. It is difficult for one whose eye has been steeped in the colors of art to go back from its enchantment to the barrenness of actual history. By Luke alone is the place even of her residence mentioned. It is only in- ferred that she was of the royal house of David. She was already esj^oused to a man named Joseph, but not as yet married. This is the sum of our knowledge of Mary at the point where her history is introduced. Legends abound, many of them charming, but hke the innumerable faces which artists have painted, they gratify the imagination without adding anything to historic truth. The scene of the Annunciation will always be admi- rable in literature, even to those who are not disposed to accord it any historic value. To announce to an espoused virgin that she was to be the mother of a child, out of wedlock, by the unconscious working in her of the Divine power, would, beforehand, seem inconsistent with delicacy. But no person of poetic sensibility can read the scene as it is narrated by Luke without admiring its sublime purity and serenity. THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. Yj It is not a transaction of the lower world of passion. Tilings most difficult to a lower sphere are both easy and beautiful in that atmosphere which;, as it were, the angel brought down with him. "And the angel came in unto her and said, Hail! thou that art highly favored \ The Lord is with thee ! " Then was announced the birth of Jesus, and that he should inherit and prolong endlessly the glories prom- ised to Israel of old. To her inquiry, " How shall this be ? " the angel replied : — " The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, And the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee ; Therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee Shall be called the Son of God." It was also made known to Mary that her cousin Elisabeth had conceived a son. And Mary said : " Be- hold the handmaid of the Lord ! Be it unto me accord- ing to thy word." Many have brought to this history the associations of a later day, of a different civilization, and of habits of thought foreign to the whole cast of the Oriental mind. Out of a process so unphilosophical they have evolved the most serious doubts and difficulties. But no one is fitted to appreciate either the beauty or the truth- fulness to nature of such a scene, who cannot in some degree carry himself back in sympathy to that Jewish maiden's life. The education of a Hebrew woman was far freer than that of women of other Oriental na- tions. She had more personal liberty, a wider scope of intelligence, than obtained among the Greeks or even among the Romans. But above all, she received a moral education which placed her high above her sis- ters in other lands. 18 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. It is plain that Mary was imbued with the spirit of the Hebrew Scriptures. Not only was the history of her people familiar to her, but her language shows that the poetry of the Old Testament had filled her soul. She was fitted to receive her people's history in its most romantic and spiritual aspects. They were God's peculiar people. Their history unrolled before her as a series of wonderful providences. The path glowed with divine manifestations. Miracles blossomed out of every natural law. But to her there were no laws of nature. Such ideas had not yet been born. The earth was " the Lord's." All its phenomena were direct manifestations of his will. Clouds and storms came on errands from God. Light and darkness were the shining or the hiding of his face. Calamities were pun- ishments. Harvests were divine gifts ; famines were immediate divine penalties. To us God acts through instruments ; to the Hebrew he acted immediately by his will. " He spake, and it was done ; he commanded, and it stood fast." To such a one as Mary there would be no incredu- lity as to the reality of this angelic manifestation. Her only surprise would be that she should be chosen for a renewal of those divine interpositions in behalf of her people of which their history was so full. The very reason which would lead us to suspect a miracle in our day gave it credibility in other days. It is simply a question of adaptation. A miracle as a blind appeal to the moral sense, without the use of the reason, was adapted to the earlier periods of human life. Its usefulness ceases when the moral sense is so devclo2)ed that it can find its own way through the ministration of the reason. A miracle is a substitute for moral THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. IQ demonstration, and is peculiarly adapted to the early conditions of mankind. Of all miracles, there was none more sacred, con- gruous, and grateful to a Hebrew than an angelic vis- itation. A devout Jew, in looking back, saw angels fly- ing thick between the heavenly throne and the throne of his fathers. The greatest events of national history had been made illustrious by their presence. Their work began with the primitive pair. They had come at evening to Abraham's tent. They had waited upon Jacob's footsteps. They had communed with Moses, with the judges, with priests and magistrates, with prophets and holy men. All the way down from the beginning of history, the pious Jew saw the shining footsteps of these heavenly messengers. Nor had the faith died out in the long interval through which their visits had been withheld. Mary could not, therefore, be surprised at the coming of angels, but only that they should come to her. It may seem strange that Zacharias should be struck dumb for doubting the heavenly messenger, while Mary went unrebuked. But it is plain that there was a wide difference in the nature of the relative experi- ences. To Zacharias was promised an event external to himself, not involving his own sensibility. But to a woman's heart there can be no other announcement possible that shall so stir every feeling and sensibility of the soul, as the promise and prospect of her first child. Motherhood is the very centre of womanhood. The first awaking in her soul of the reality that she bears a double life — herself within herself — brinors a o sweet bewilderment of wonder and joy. The more sure her faith of the fact, the more tremulous must 20 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. her soul become. Such an announcement can never mean to a father's what it does to a mother's heart. And it is one of the exquisite shades of subtle truth, and of beauty as well, that the angel who rebuked Zacharias for doubt saw nothing in the trembling hesitancy and wonder of Mary inconsistent with a childlike faith. If the heart swells with the hope of a new life in the common lot of mortals, with what profound feeling must Mary have pondered the angel's promise to her son ! " He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest ; And the Lord God shall give him the throne of his father David ; And he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever, And of his kingdom there shall be no end." It is expressly stated that Joseph was of the " house of David," but there is no evidence that Mary was of the same, except this implication, " The Lord God shall give him the throne of his flxther David." Since Joseph was not his father, it could only be through his mother that he could trace his lineage to David. There is no reason to suppose that Mary was more enlightened than those among whom she dwelt, or that she gave to these words that spiritual sense in which alone they have proved true. To her, it may be sup- posed, there arose a vague idea that her son was des- tined to be an eminent teacher and deliverer. She would naturally go back in her mind to the instances, in the history of her own people, of eminent men and women who had been raised up in dark times to deliver their people. She lived in the very region which Deborah and Barak had made famous. Almost before her eyes lay THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 21 the plains on which great deUverances had been wrought by heroes raised up by the God of Israel. But that other glory, of spiritual deliverance, was hidden from her. Or, if that influence which over- shadowed her awakened in her the spiritual vision, it was doubtless to reveal that her son was to be some- thing more than a mere worldly conqueror. But it was not for her to discern the glorious reality. It hung in the future as a dim brightness, whose par- ticular form and substance could not be discerned. For it is not to be supposed that Mary — prophet as every woman is — could discern that spiritual truth of the promises of the Old Testament which his own disciples did not understand after companying with Jesus for three years, nor yet after his ascension, nor until the fire of the pentecostal day had kindled in them the eye of flame that pierces all things and dis- cerns the spirit. "And Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill-country with haste, into a city of Juda, and entered into the house of Zacharias and saluted Elisabeth." The overshadowing Spirit had breathed upon her the new life. What woman of deep soul was ever unthrilled at the mystery of life beating within life ? And what Jewish woman, devoutly believing that in her child were to be fulfilled the hopes of Israel, could hold this faith without excitement almost too great to be borne ? She could not tarry. With haste she trod that way which she had doubtless often trod before in her annual ascent to the Temple. Every village, every brook, every hill, must have awakened in her some sad recollection of the olden days of her people. There was Tabor, from which came down Barak and his men. 22 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. And in the great plain of Esdraelon he fought Sisera. The waters of Kishon, murmuring at her feet, must have recalled the song of Deborah. Here, too, Josiah was slain at Megiddo, and " the mourning of Hadad- Rimmon hi the valley of Megiddon " became the by- word of grief Mount Gilboa rose upon her from the east. Ebal and Gerizim stood forth in remembrance of the sublime drama of blessings and cursings. Then came Shechem, the paradise of Palestine, in whose neighborhood Joseph was buried. This pilgrim may have quenched her thirst at noonday, as afterwards her son did, at the well of Jacob ; and farther to the south it might be that the oak of Mamre, under which the patriarch dwelt, cast its great shadow upon her. It is plain from the song of Mary, of which we shall speak in a moment, that she bore in mind the his- tory of the mother of Samuel, wife of Elkanah, who dwelt in this region, and whose song, at the presenta- tion of Samuel to the priest at Sliiioh, seems to have been the mould in which Mary unconsciously cast her own. Thus, one after another, Mary must have passed the most memorable spots in her people's history. Even if not sensitive to patriotic influences, — still more if she was alive to such sacred and poetic associations, — she must have come to her relative Elisabeth with flaming heart. Well she might ! What other mystery in human life is so profound as the beginning of life ? From the earliest days women have called themselves blessed of God when life begins to palpitate within their bosom. It is not education, but nature, that inspires such tender amazement. Doubtless even the Indian woman in THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 23 such periods dwells consciously near to the Great Spirit! Every one of a deep nature seems to herself more sacred and more especially under the divine care while a new Hfe, moulded by the divine hand, is sprmging into being. For, of all creative acts, none is so sovereign and divine. Who shall reveal the end- less musings, the perpetual prophecies, of the mother's soul ? Her thoughts dwell upon the unknown child, — thoughts more in number than the ripples of the sea upon some undiscovered shore. To others, in such hours, woman should seem more sacred than the most solemn temple ; and to herself she must needs seem as if overshadowed by the Holy Ghost! To this natural elevation were added, in the instance of Mary and Elisabeth, those vague but exalted expec- tations arising from the angelic annunciations. Both of them believed that the whole future condition of their nation was to be intimately affected by the lives of their sons. And Mary said : — " My soul dotli magnify the Lord, And my spirit liath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For lie hatli regarded the low estate of his handmaiden ; For, behold, fi-om henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For He that is mighty hath done to me great things ; And holy is his name. And his mercy is on them that fear him From generation to generation. He hath shewed strength with his arm ; He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, And exalted them of low degree. He hath filled the hungry with good things ; And the rich he hath sent empty away. He hath holpen his servant Israel, In remembrance of his mercy ; As he spake to our fathers, To Abraham, and to his seed forever." 24 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. Unsjnnpathizing critics remark upon the similarity of this chant of Mary's with the song of Hannah/ the mother of Samuel. Inspiration served to kindle the materials already in possession of the mind. This Hebrew maiden had stored her imagination with the poetic elements of the Old Testament. But, of all the * " My heart rejoiceth in the Lord ; Aly horn is exalted in the Lord ; My mouth is enlarged over mine enemies ; Because I rejoice in thy salvation. There is none holy as the Lord ; For there is none beside thee ; Neither is there any rock like our God. Talk no more so exceeding proudly : Let not arrogancy come out of your mouth : For the Lord is a God of knowledge, And by him actions are weighed. The bows of the mighty men are broken, And they that stumbled are girded with strength. They that were full have hired out themselves for bread ; And they that were hungry ceased ; So that the barren hath borne seven; And she that hath many children is waxed feeble. The Lord killeth, and maketh alive : He bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up. The Lord maketh poor, and maketh rich : He bringeth low, and lifteth up. He raiseth up the poor out of the dust. And lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill, To set them among princes. And to make them inherit the throne of glory : For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's, And he hath set the world upon them. He will keep the feet of his saints. And the wicked shall be silent in darkness : For by strength shall no man prevail. Tlie adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces ; Out of heaven shall he thunder upon them : The Lord shall judge the ends of the earth; And he shall give strength unto his lung. And exalt the horn of his Anointed." THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. ^5 treasures at command, only a devout and grateful na- ture would have made so unselfish a selection. For it is not upon her own blessedness that Mary chiefly dwells, but upon the sovereignty, the goodness, and the glory of God. To be exalted by the joy of our personal prosperity above self-consciousness into the atmos- phere of thanksgiving and adoration, is a sure sign of nobility of soul. For three months these sweet and noble women dwelt together, performing, doubtless, the simple labors of the household. Their thoughts, their converse, their employments, must be left wholly to the imagination. And yet, it is impossible not to be curious in regard to these hidden days of Judcea, when the mother of our Lord was already fashioning that sacred form which, in due time, not far from her residence, perhaps within the very sight of it, was to be lifted up upon the cross. But it is a research which we have no means of pursuing. Her thoughts must be impossible to us, as our thoughts of her son were impossible to her. No one can look forward, even in the spirit of proph- ecy, to see after-things in all their fulness as they shall be ; nor can one who has known go back again to see as if he had not known. After Mary's return to Nazareth, Elisabeth was de- livered of a son. Following the custom of their peo- ple, her friends would have named him after his father, but the mother, mindful of the name given by the an- gel, called him John. An appeal was made to the priest — who probably was deaf as well as dumb, for they made signs to him — how the child should be named. Calling for writing-materials, he surprised them all by naming him as his wife had, — John. At once the sign ceased. 26 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. His lips were unsealed, and he broke forth into thanks- giving and praise. All the circumstances conspired to awaken wonder and to spread throughout the neigh- borhood mysterious expectations, men saying, "What manner of child shall this be ? " The first chapter of Luke may be considered as the last leaf of the Old Testament, so saturated is it with the heart and spirit of the olden times. And the song of Zacharias clearly reveals the state of feeling among the best Jews of that day. Their nation was grievously pressed down by foreign despotism. Their people were scattered through the world. The time was exceedingly dark, and the promises of the old prophets served by contrast to make their present dis- tress yet darker. We are not surprised, therefore, to find the first portion of Zacharias's chant sensitively recognizing the degradations and sufferings of his peo- ple : — " Blessed be the Lord God of Israel ; For hciiatli visited and redeemed his people, And hath raised up an horn of salvation for us In the house of his servant David (As he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, Which have been since the world began) ; That we should be saved from our enemies, And from the hand of all that hate us ; To perform the mercy promised to our fathers, And to remember his holy covenant, Tlie oath which he sware to our father Abraham, That he would grant unto us, Thnt we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies !Miu;ht serve him without fear. In liolinoss and righteousness before him, All the days of our life." Then, as if seized with a spirit of prophecy, and be- holding the relations and offices of his son, in language THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 27 as poetically beautiful as it is spiritually triumphant lie exclaims : — " And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest : For thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways ; To give knowledge of salvation unto his people By the remission of their sins, Through the tender mercy of our God ; "Whereby the day-spring from on high hath visited us, To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. To guide our feet into the way of peace." Even in his childhood John manifested that fulness of nature and that earnestness which afterwards fitted him for his mission. He "waxed strong in spirit." He did not mingle in the ordinary pursuits of men. As one who bears a sensitive conscience and refuses to mingle in the throng of men of low morality, he stood apart and was solitary. He " was in the deserts until the day of his showing unto Israel." Mary had returned to Nazareth. Although Joseph, to whom she was betrothed, was descended from David, every sign of royalty had died out. He earned his livelihood by working in wood, probably as a car- penter, though the word applied to his trade admits of much larger application. Tradition has uniformly rep- resented him as a carpenter, and art has conformed to tradition. He appears but on the threshold of the his- tory. He goes to Egypt, returns to Nazareth, and is faintly recognized as present when Jesus was twelve years of age. But nothing more is heard of him. If alive when his reputed son entered upon public min- istry, there is no sign of it. And as Mary is often mentioned in the history of the Lord's mission, it is probable that Joseph died before Jesus entered upon his public life. He is called a just man, and we know that he was humane. For when he perceived 28 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. the condition of his betrothed wife, instead of press- ing to its full rigor the Jewish law against her, he meant quietly and without harm to set her aside. When in a vision he learned the truth, he took Mary as his wife. In the thousand pictures of the Holy Family, Joseph is represented as a venerable man, standing a little apart, lost in contemplation, while Mary and Elisabeth caress the child Jesus. In this respect. Christian art has, it is probable, rightly represented the character of Joseph. He was but a shadow on the canvas. Such men are found in every commimity, — gentle, blameless, mildly active, but exerting no positive influence. Except in one or two vague implications, he early disappears from sight. No mention is made of his death, though he must have deceased long before Mary, who in all our Lord's ministry appears alone. He reappears in the ecclesiastical calendar as St. Joseph, simply be- cause he was the husband of Mary, — a harmless saint, mild and silent. An imperial order having issued for the taxing of the whole nation, it became necessary for every one, according to the custom of the Jews, to repair to the city where he belonged, for registration.^ ' It is needless to consider the difficulty to which this passage has given rise. Josephus states that Quirinius (Cyrenius) became governor of Judrea after the death of Archelaus, Herod's son and heir, and so some eight or ten years after the birth of Christ. How then could that taxing have brought Joseph from Nazareth to Bethloliem ? The immense ingenuity ■which has been employed to solve tliis difliculty will scarcely add to the value of hypothetical historical reasoning. Especially when now, at length, it is ascertained upon grounds almost certain, that Quirinius was twice gov- ernor of Syria. See SchafT's note to Lange's Com. (Luke, pp. 32, 33), and the more full discussion in Smith's Bible Dictionary, Art. " Cyrenius," and President Woolscy's addition to this article in Hard and Houghton's Amer- ican edition. THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 29 From Nazareth to Bethlehem was about eighty miles. Travelling slowly, as the condition of Mary required, they would probably occupy about four days in reach- ing their destination. Already the place was crowded with others brought thither on the same errand. They probably sought shelter in a cottage, for "the inn was full," and there Mary gave birth to her child. It is said by Luke that the child was laid in a man- ger, from which it has been inferred that his parents had taken refuge in a stable. But tradition asserts that it was^ a cave, such as abound in the limestone rock of that region, and are used both for sheltering herds and, sometimes, for human residences. The precip- itous sides of the rock are often pierced in such a way that a cottage built near might easily convert an ad- joining cave to the uses of an outbuilding. Caves are not rare in Palestine, as with us. On the contrary, the whole land seems to be honeycombed with them. They are, and have been for ages, used for almost every purj)ose which architecture supplies in other lands, — as dwellings for the living and sepul- chres for the dead, as shelter for the household and for cattle and herds, as hidden retreats for robbers, and as defensive positions or rock-castles for soldiers. Travellers make them a refuge when no better inn is at hand. They are shaped into reservoirs for water, or, if dry, they are employed as granaries. The lime- stone of the region is so porous and soft, that but a little labor is required to enlarge, refashion, and adapt caves to any desirable purpose. Of the " manger," or " crib," Thomson, long a mis- sionary in Palestine, says : " It is common to find two sides of the one room, where the native farmer resides 30 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. with his cattle, fitted up with these mangers, and the re- mainder elevated about two feet higher for the accom- modation of the fiimily. The mangers are built of small stones and mortar, in the shape of a box, or, rather, of a kneading-trough, and when cleaned up and whitewashed, as they often are in summer, they do very well to lay little babes in. Indeed, our own chil- dren have slept there in our rude summer retreats on the mountains." ^ The laying of the little babe in the manger is not to be regarded then as an extraordinary thing, or a posi- tive hardship. It was merely subjecting the child to a custom which peasants frequently practised with their children. Jesus began his Hfe with and as the lowest. About five miles south of Jerusalem, and crowning the top and sides of a narrow ridge or spur which shoots out eastwardly from the central mass of the Judaean hills, was the village of Bethlehem. On every side but the western, the hill breaks down abruptly into deep valleys. The steep slopes were terraced and cultivated from top to bottom. A little to the east- ward is a kind of plain, where it is supposed the shep- herds, of all shepherds that ever lived now the most famous, tended their flocks. The great fruitfulness of its fields is supposed to have given to Bethlehem its name, which signifies the " House of Bread." Famous as it has become, it was but a hamlet at the birth of Jesus. Here King David was born, but there is noth- ing to indicate that he retained any special attachment to the place. In the rugged valleys and gorges which ' Thomson's Tlie Land and the Book, Vol. II. p. 98. THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 31 abound on every side, he had watched his father's flocks and had become inured to danger and to toil, defend- ing his charge on the one hand against wild beasts, and on the other against the scarcely less savage predatory tribes that infested the region south and east. From Bethlehem one may look out upon the very fields made beautiful forever to the imagination by the charming idyl of David's ancestress, Ruth the Moabitess. Changed as Bethlehem itself is, which, from holding a mere handful then, has a population now of some four thousand, customs and the face of nature remain the same. The hills are terraced, the fields are tilled, flocks are tended by laborers unchanged in garb, work- ing with the same kinds of implements, having the same manners, and employing the same salutations as in the days of the patriarchs. Were Boaz to return to-day, he would hardly see an unfamiliar thing in his old fields, — the barley harvest, the reapers, the gleaners, the threshing-floors, and the rude threshing, — all are there as they were thousands of years ago. At the season of our Saviour's advent, the nights were soft and genial.^ It was no hardship for rugged ^ This is true, whichever date shall be selected of the many which have been urged by different learned men. But further than this there is no cer- tainty. " In the primitive Church there was no agreement as to the time of Christ's birth. In the East the 6th of January was observed as the day of his baptism and birth. In the third century, as Clement of Alexandria relates, some regarded the 20th of May, others the 20th of April, as the birthday of our Saviour. Among modern chronologists and biographers of Jesus there is still greater difference of opinion, and every month — even June and July (when the fields are parched from want of rain) — has been named as the time when the great event took place. Liglitfoot assigns the Nativity to September, Lardner and Newcome to October, Wioseler to Feb- ruary, Paulus to March, Greswell and Alfera to the 5th of April, just after the spring rains, when there is an abundance of pasture ; Lichtenstein 32 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. shepherds to spend the night in the fields with their flocks. By day, as the sheep fed, their keepers might while away their time -with sights and sounds along the earth. When darkness shut in the scene, the heavens would naturally attract their attention. Their eyes had so long kept company with the mysterious stars, that, doubtless, like shepherds of more ancient times, they were rude astronomers, and had grown familiar with the planets, and knew them in all their courses. But there came to them a night surpassing all nights in wonders. Of a sudden the whole heavens were filled with light, as if morning were come upon midnight. Out of this splendor a single voice issued, as of a choral leader, — " Behold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy." The shepherds were told of the Saviour's birth, and of the place where the babe might be found. Then no longer a single voice, but a host in heaven, was heard celebrating the event. " Suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, prais- ing God, and saying, *' Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace, good-will toward men." Raised to a fervor of wonder, these children of the field made haste to find the babe, and to make known on every side the marvellous vision. Moved by this places it in July or December, Strong in August, Robinson in antimin, Clinton in spring, Andrews between the middle of December, 749, and the middle of January, 750, A. U. C. On the other hand, Roman Catholic histo- rians and biographers of Jesus, as Sepp, Friedlieb, Bucher, Patritius, and also some Protestant writers, defend the popular tradition, — the 25th of De- cember. Wordsworth gives up the problem, and thinks that the Holy Spirit has concealed the knowledge of the year and day of Christ's birth and the duration of his ministry from the wise and prudent, to teach them humil- ity."— Dr. Schaff, in Lange's Commentary (Luke, p. 36). THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 33 faith to worship and to glorify God, they were thus unconsciously the earliest disciples and the first evan- gelists, for " they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child." In beautiful contrast with these rude exclamatory worshippers, the mother is described as silent and thoughtful. " Mary kept all these things and pon- dered them in her heart." If no woman comes to herself until she loves, so, it may be said, she knows not how to love until her firstrborn is in her arms. Sad is it for her who does not feel herself made sacred by motherhood. That heart-pondering! Who may tell the thoughts which rise from the deep places of an inspired love, more in number and more beauti- ful than the particles of vapor which the sun draws from the surface of the sea? Intimately as a mother must feel that her babe is connected with her own body, e"<^en more she is wont to feel that her child comes direct from God. God- given is a familiar name in every language. Not from her Lord came this child to Mary. It was her Lord himself that came. A sweet and trusting faith in God, childlike simplicity, and profound love seem to have formed the nature of Mary. She may be accepted as the type of Christian motherhood. In this view, and excluding the dogma of her immaculate nature, and still more emphatically that of any other participation in divinity than that which is common to all, we may receive with pleasure the stores of exquisite pictures with which Christian art has filled its realm. The " Madonnas " are so many tributes to the beauty and dignity of motherhood; 34 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. and they may stand so interpreted, now that the Buperstitious associations which they have had are so wholly worn away. At any rate, the Protestant re- action from Mary has gone far enough, and, on our own grounds, we may well have our share also in the memory of this sweet and noble woman. The same reason which led our Lord to clothe him- self with llesh made it proper, when he was born, to have fulfilled upon him all the customs of his people. He was therefore circumcised when eight days old, and presented in the Temple on the fortieth day, at which period his mother had completed the time appointed for her purification. The offering required was a lamb and a dove; but if the parents were poor, then two doves. Mary's humble condition was indicated by the offering of two doves. And yet, if she had heard the exclama- tion of John after the Lord's baptism, years afterwards, she might have perceived that, in spite of her poverty, she had brought the Lamb, divine and precious ! Surprise upon surprise awaited Mary. There dwelt at Jerusalem, Avrapped in his own devout and longing thoughts, a great nature, living contentedly in obscurity, Simeon by name. This venerable man seized the child with holy rapture, when it was presented in the Tcmjole, and broke forth in the very spirit of a prophet : — " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, According to thy word : For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; A Ii;j;ht to lighten the Gentiles, And the glory of tliy people Israel." Both Mary and Joseph were amazed, but there was something in Mary's appearance that drew this inspired THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 35 old man specially to her, " Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel Yea, a sword shall pierce through thme own soul also." As the asters, among plants, go all summer long un- beautiful, their flowers hidden within, and burst into bloom at the very end of summer and in late autumn, with the frosts upon their heads, so this aged saint had blossomed, at the close of a long life, into this noble ecstasy of joy. In a stormy time, when outward life moves wholly against one's wishes, he is truly great whose soul becomes a sanctuary in which patience dwells with hope. In one hour Simeon received full satisfaction for the yearnings of many years ! Among the Jews, more perhaps than in any other Oriental nation, woman was permitted to develop natr urally, and liberty was accorded her to participate in things which other people reserved with zealous se- clusion for men. Hebrew women were prophetesses, teachers (2 Kings xxii. 14), judges, queens. The ad- vent of our Saviour was hailed appropriately by woman, — Anna, the prophetess, joining with Simeon in praise and thanksgiving. But other witnesses were preparing. Already the footsteps of strangers afar off were advancing toward JudD3a. Erelong Jerusalem was thrown into an excite- ment by the arrival of certain sages, probably from Persia. The city, like an uneasy volcano, was always on the eve of an eruption. When it was known that these pilgrims had come to inquire about a king, Avho, they believed, had been born, a king of the Jews, the news excited both the city and the palace, — hope in one, fear in the other, Herod dreaded a rival. The Jews longed for a native prince whose arm 'should expel the 36 TEE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. intrusive government. No wonder that " Herod was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him." He first sum- moned the Jewish scholars, to knoAV where, according to their jDrophets, the Messiah was to be born. Bethle- hem was the place of prediction. Next, he summoned the Magi, secretly, to learn of them at what time the revealing star had appeared to them, and then, craftily veiling his cruel purposes with an assumed interest, he charges them, when the child was found, to let him be a worshipper too ! The same star which had drawn their footsteps to Jerusalem now guided the wise men to the very place of Jesus' birth. What was this star ? All that can be known is, that it was some appearance of light in the sky, which by these Oriental philosophers was supposed to indicate a great event. Ingenuity has unnecessarily been exer- cised to prove that at about this time there was a con- junction of three planets. But did the same thing happen again, after their arrival at Jerusalem ? For it is stated that, on their leaving the city to go to Beth- lehem, " lo, the star which they saw in the east went before them till it came and stood over where the young child was." How could a planetary conjunction stand over a particular house ? It is evident that the sidereal guide was a globe of light, divinely ordered and ap- pointed for this work. It was a miracle. That nature is but an organized outworking of the divine will, that God is not limited to ordinary law in the production of results, that he can, and that he does, produce events by the direct force of his will without the ordinary instru- ments of nature, is the very spirit of the whole Bible. These gleams of immediate power flash through in THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. ' 37 every age. The superiority of spiritual power over sensuous, is the ilkiminating truth of the New Testa- ment. The gospels should be taken or rejected unmu- tilated. The disciples plucked the wheat-heads, and, rubbing them in their hands, they ate the grain. But our sceptical believers take from the New Testament its supernatural element, — rub out the wheat, — and eat the chaff. There is consistency in one who sets the gospels aside on the ground that they are not inspired, that they are not even historical, that they are growths of the imaorination, and covered all over with the parasites of superstition; but in one who professes to accept the record as an inspired history, the disposition to pare miracles down to a scientific shape, to find their roots in natural laws, is neither reverent nor sagacious. Miracles are to be accepted boldly or not at all. They are jewels, and sparkle with divine light, or they are nothing. This guide of the Magi was a light kindled in the heavens to instruct and lead those whose eyes were prepared to receive it. If the vision of angels and the extraordinary conception of the Virgin are received as miraculous, it ought not to be difficult to accept the star seen from the east as a miracle also. The situation of the child ill befitted Oriental notions of a king's dignity. But under the divine influence which rested upon the Magi, they doubtless saw more than the outward circumstances. Humble as the place was, poor as his parents evidently were, and he a mere babe, they fell down before him in w^orship, and pre- sented princely gifts, " gold, frankincense, and myrrh." Instead of returning to Herod, they went back to their own country. 38 TUE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. And now it was time for Joseph to look well to his safety. If there was to be a king in Israel, he was to come from the house of David, and Joseph was of that stock, and his child, Jesus, was royal too. Herod's jealousy was aroused. He was not a man wont to miss the fulfilment of any desire on account of hu- mane or moral scruples. The return of the Magi with- out giving him the knowledge which he sought seemed doubtless to the king like another step in a plot to sub- vert his throne. He determined to make thorough work of this nascent peril, " and sent forth and slew all the children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts thereof, fiom two years old and under." He put the limit of age at a period which would make it sure that the new-born king of the Jews would be included. It has been objected to the probable truth of this statement, that such an event could hardly fail to be recorded by secular historians, and especially by Jose- phus, who narrates the contemporaneous history with much minuteness. But this event is far more striking upon our imagination now, than it was likely to be upon the attention of men then. For, as Bethlehem was a mere hamlet, with but a handful of people, it has been computed that not more than ten or fifteen chil- dren could have perished by this merciless edict. Be- sides, what was such an act as this, in a life stored full of abominable cruelties ? " He who had immolated a cherished wife, a brother, and three sons to his jealous suspicions, and who ordered a general massacre for the day of his funeral, so that his body should not be borne to the earth amidst general rejoicings," may easily be supposed to have filled up the spaces with minor cruel- ties which escaped record. But here is an historical THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 39 record. It is no impeachment of its truth to aver that there is no other history of it. Until some disproof is alleged, it must stand. Stirred by a divine impulse, Joseph had already re- moved the child from dan-i-er. Whither should he flee? O Egypt was not distant, and the roads thither were easy and much frequented. Thither too, from time to time, exiled for various reasons, had resorted numbers of Jews, so that, though in a foreign land, he would be among his own countrymen, all interested alike in hat- ing the despotic cruelty of Herod. There is no record of the place of Joseph's sojourn in Egypt. Tradition, always uncertain, places it at Matarea, near Leontopolis, where subsequently the Jewish temple of Onias stood. His stay was probably brief For, within two or three weeks of the foregoing events, Herod died. Joseph did not return to Bethlehem, though he de- sired to do so, but was warned of God in a dream of his danger. It was probable that Archelaus, who succeeded to Herod in Judcea, would be as suspicious of danger from an heir royal of the house of David as his father had been ; so Joseph passed — it may be by way of the sea-coast — northward, to Nazareth, whence a few months before he had removed. Before closing this chapter we shall revert to one of the most striking features of the period thus far passed over, namely, the ministration of angels. The belief in the existence of heavenly beings who in some man- ner are concerned in the affairs of men, has existed from the earliest periods of which we have a history. This faith is peculiarly grateful to the human heart, and, though it has never been received with favor by 40 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. men addicted to jDurely physical studies, it has been entertamed by the Church with fond faith and by the common people with the enthusiasm of sjinpathy. It is scarcely possible to follow the line of develop- ment in the animal kingdom, and to witness the grada- tions on the ascending scale, unfolding steadily, rank above rank, until man is reached, without having the presumption awakened that there are intelligences above man, — creatures which rise as much above him as he above the inferior animals. When the word of God announces the ministration of angels, records their early visits to this planet, repre- sents them as bending over the race in benevolent sympathy, bearing warnings, consolations, and messages of wisdom, the heart receives the doctrine even against the cautions of a sceptical reason. Our faith might be put to shame if the scriptural angels bore any analogy to those of the rude and puerile histories contained in apocryphal books. But the long hue of heavenly visitants shines in unsullied brightness as high above the beliefs and prejudices of an early age as the stars are above the vapors and dust of earth. While patriarchs, prophets, and apostles show all the deficiencies of their own period and are stained with human passions, the angelic beings, judged by the most fastidious requirements of these later ages, are without spot or blemish. They are not made up of human traits idealized. They are unworldly, — of a different type, of nobler presence, and of far grander and sweeter natures than any living on earth. The angels of the oldest records are like the angels of the latest. The Hebrew thouo^ht had moved throuij^h a vast arc of the infinite cycle of truth between the days THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 4^' when Abraham came from Ur of Chaklosa and the times of our Lord's stay on earth. But there is no develop- ment in angels of later over those of an earlier date. They were as beautiful, as spiritual, as pure and noble, at the beginning as at the close of the old dis- pensation. Can such creatures, transcending earthly experience, and far outrunning anything in the life of man, be creations of the rude ages of the human under- standing ? We could not imagine the Advent stripped of its an- gelic lore. The dawn without a twilight, the sun with- out clouds of silver and gold, the morning on the fields without dew-diamonds, — but not the Saviour without his angels ! They shine within the Temple, they bear to the matchless mother a message which would have been disgrace from mortal lips, but which from theirs fell upon her as pure as dew-drops upon the lilies of the plain of Esdraelon. They communed with the Saviour in his glory of transfiguration, sustained him in the anguish of the garden, watched at the tomb ; and as they had thronged the earth at his coming, so they seem to have hovered in the air in multitudes at the hour of his ascension. Beautiful as they seem, they are never mere poetic adornments. The occasions of their appearing are grand. The reasons are weighty. Their demeanor suggests and befits the highest con- ception of superior beings. These are the very ele- ments that a rude age could not fashion. Could a sensuous age invent an order of beings, which, touch- ing the earth from a heavenly height on its most mo- mentous occasions, could still, after ages of culture had refined the human taste and moral appreciation, remain ineffably superior in dehcacy, in pure spirituality, to 42 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CnRIST. the demands of criticism ? Their very coming and going is not with earthly movement. They suddenly are seen in the air as one sees white clouds round out from the blue sky, in a summer's day, that melt back even while one looks upon them. They vibrate between the visible and the invisible. They come without motion. They go without flight. They dawn and disappear. Their words are few, but the Advent Chorus 3^et is sounding its music through the world. A part of the angelic ministration is to be looked for in what men are by it incited to do. It helps the mind to populate heaven with spiritual inhabitants. The imagination no longer translates thither the gross corporeity of this life. We suspect that few of us are aware how much our definite conceptions of spirit- life are the product of the angel-lore of the Bible. It is to be noticed that only in Luke is the history of the angelic annunciation given. It is to Luke also that we are indebted for the record of the angels at the tomb on the morning of the resurrection. Luke has been called the Evangelist of Greece. He was Paul's companion of travel, and particularly among the Greek cities of Asia Minor. This suggests the fact that the angelic ministration commemorated in the New Testament would greatly facilitate among Greeks the reception of monotheism. Comforting to us as is the doctrine of angels, it can hardly be of the same help as it was to a Greek or to a Roman when he first accepted the Christian faith. The rejection of so many divinities must have left the fields, the mountains, the cities and temples very bare to all who had been accus- tomed to heathen mythology. The ancients seem to have striven to express universal divine presence by THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. 43 multiplying their gods. This at least had the effect of giving life to every part of nature. The imaginative Greek had grown familiar with the thought of gods innumerable. Every stream, each grove, the caves, the fields, the clouds, suggested some divine person. It would be almost impossible to strip such a one of those fertile suggestions and tie him to the simple doctrine of One God, without producing a sense of cheerless- ness and solitude. Ang-els come in to make for him an easy transition from polytheism to monotheism. The air might still be populous, his imagination yet be full of teeming suggestions, but no longer with false gods. Now there was to him but one God, but He was served by multitudes of blessed spirits, children of light and glory. Instead of a realm of conflicting divinities there was a household, the Father looking in benignity upon his radiant family. Thus, again, to the Greek, as to the Patriarch, angels ascended and de- scended the steps that lead from earth to heaven. 44 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST, CHAPTER III. THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. Before we enter upon the childhood of Jesus, and, with still more reason, before we enter upon his adult life, it is necessary to form some idea of his original nature. No one conversant with the ideas on this point which fill the Christian world can avoid taking sides with one or another of the philosophical views which have divided the Church. Even mere readers, who seem to themselves uncommitted to any doctrine of the nature of Christ, are unconsciously in sym- pathy with some theory. But to draw up a history of Christ without some pilot-idea is impossible. Every fact in the narrative will take its color and form from the philosophy around which it is grouped. Was Jesus, then, one of those gifted men who have from time to time arisen in the world, differing from their fellows only in pre-eminence of earthly power, in a fortunate temperament, and a happy balance of facul- ties? Was he simply and only an extraordinary Man? This view was early taken, and as soon vehemently combated. But it has never ceased to be held. It reappears in every age. And it has special hold upon thoughtful minds to-day ; at least, upon such thoughtr ful minds as are imbued with the present spirit of ma- terial science. The physical laws of nature, we are told, are invariable and constant, and all true knowl- THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 45 edge is the product of the observation of such laws. This view will exclude, not only miracles, the divine inspiration of holy men of old, and the divinity of Jesus Christ ; but, if honestly followed to its proper consequences, it will destroy the grounds on which stand the belief of the unmortality of the soul and of the existence of angels and spirits ; and, finally and fatally, it will deny the validity of all eviden- ces of the existence and government of God. And we accordingly find that, on the Euroj)ean continent and in England, the men of some recent schools of science, without denying the existence of an intelli- gent, personal God, deny that there is, or can be, any human hioivledge of the fact. The nature of the hu- man mind, and the laws under which all kno^vledge is gained, it is taught, prevent our knowing with cer- tainty anything beyond the reach of the senses and of personal consciousness. God is the Unknown, and the life beyond this the Unknowable. There are many inclining to this position who would be shocked at the results to which it logically leads. But it is difficult to see how one can reject miracles, as philo- sophically impossible, except upon grounds of mate- rialistic science which lead irresistibly to veiled or overt atheism. The Lives of Christ which have been written from the purely humanitarian view have not been without their benefits. They have brought the historical ele- ments of his life into clearer light, have called back the mind from speculative and imaginative efforts in spiritual directions, and have given to a dim and dis- tant idea the clearness and reality of a fact. Like some old picture of the masters, the Gospels, ex- 46 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TUE CHRIST. posed to the dust and smoke of superstition, to re- varnishing glosses and retouching philosophies, in the sight of many had lost their original brightness and beauty. The rationalistic school has done much to re- move these false surfaces, and to bring back to the eye the original picture as it was laid upon the canvas. But, this work ended, every step beyond has been mischievous. The genius of the Gospels has been cru- cified to a theory of Christ's humanity. The canons of historical criticism have been adojDted or laid aside as the exigencies of the special theory required. The most lawless fancy has been called in to correct the alleged fancifalness of the evangelists. Not only has the picture been " restored," but the pigments have been taken off, reground, and laid on again by mod- ern hands. A new head, a different countenance, appears. They found a God : they have left a feeble man ! Dissatisfied with the barrenness of this school, which leaves nothing upon which devotion may fas- ten, another class of thinkers have represented Jesus as more than human, but as less than divine. \Yhat that being is to whose kind Jesus belongs, they cannot tell. Theirs is a theory of compromise. It adopts the obscure as a means of hid ins: definite difficulties. It admits the grandeur of Christ's nature, and the sublimity of his life and teachings. It exalts him above angels, but not to the level of the Throne. It leaves him in that wide and mysterious space that lies between the finite and the infinite. The theological difficulties which inhere in such a theory are many. It may enable reasoners to elude pursuit, but it will not give them any vantage-ground THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 47 for a conflict with philosophical objections. And yet, as the pilot-idea of a Life of Christ, it is far less mis- chievous than the strictly humanitarian view ; it does less violence to recorded facts. But it cannot create an ideal on which the soul may feed. After the last touch is given to the canvas, we see only a Creature. The soul admires ; but it must go elsewhere to bestow its utmost love and reverence. A third view is held, which may be called the doc- trine of the Church, at least since the fourth century. It attributes to Jesus a double nature, — a human soul and a divine soul in one body. It is not held that these two souls existed separately and in juxtaposi- tion, — two separate tenants, as it were, of a common dwelling. Neither is it taught that either soul ab- sorbed the other, so that the divine lapsed into the human, or the' human expanded into the divine. But it is held that, by the union of a human and a divine nature, the one person Jesus Christ became God-Man ; a being carrying in himself both natures, inseparably blended, and never again to be dissevered. This new ihcanihropic being, of blended divinity and humanity, will occasion no surprise in those who are familiar with modes of thought which belonged to the early theologians of the Church. It is only when, in our day, this doctrine is supposed to be found in the New Testament, that one is inclined to surprise. For, as in a hot campaign the nature of the lines of intrenchment is determined by the assaults of the enem}^, so this doctrine took its shape, not from. Scripture statements, but from the exigencies of controversy. It was thrown up to meet the assaults upon the true divinity of Christ; and, although cum- 48 TUB LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. brous and involved, it saved Christianity. For, the truth of the proper divinity of Christ is the marrow of the sacred Scriptures. It is the only point at which natural and revealed religion can be reconciled. But if by another and better statement the divinity of Christ can be exhibited in equal eminence and with greater simplicity, and if such exhibition shall be found in more obvious accord with the language of the New Testament, and with what we now know of mental philosophy, it will be wise, in constructing a life of Christ, to leave the antiquated theory of the mediaeval Church, and return to the simple and more philosophi- cal views of the sacred Scriptures. We must bear in mind that many questions which have profoundly excited the curiosity of thinkers, and agitated the Church, had not even entered into the conceptions of men at the time when the writings of the New Testament were framed. They are medi- aeval or modern. The Romish doctrine of the Virgin Mary could hardly have been understood even, by the apostles. The speculations which have absorbed the thoughts of men for ages are not only not found m the sacred record, but would have been in- congruous with its whole spirit. The evangelists never reason upon any question ; they simply state what they saw or heard. They never deduce in- ferences and principles from facts. They frame their narrations without any apparent consciousness of the philosophical relations of the facts contained in them to each other or to any system. It is probable that the mystery of the Incarnation never entered their minds as it exists in ours. It was to them a moral fact, and not a philosophical problem. THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 49 How Jesus was Son of God, and yet Son of Man, is nowhere spoken of in those simple records. The evangelists and the apostles content themselves with simply declaring that God came into the world in the form of a man. " The Word was God." " And the Word ivas made fcsh, and dwelt among ns." This is all the explanation given by the disciple who was most in sympathy with Jesus. Jesus was God ; and he was made flesh. The simplest rendering of these words would seem to be, that the Divine Spirit had enveloped himself with the human body, and in that condition been subject to the indispensable limitations of material laws. Paul's statement is almost a direct historical narrative of facts. " Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus : who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God ; but made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and tvas made in the likeness of men ; and being found in fashion as a man, he hum- bled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." (Phil. ii. 5-8.) This is a simple statement that Jesus, a Divine Person, brought his nature into the human body, and was subject to all its laws and conditions. No one can extract from this the notion of two intermixed souls in one nature. The same form of statement appears in Romans viii. 3 : " For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God, sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh." There is no hint here of joining a himian soul to the divine. In not a single passage of the New Testament is such an idea even suggested. The lan- 4 50 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. guage which is used on this subject is such as could not have been employed by one who had in his mind the notion of two souls in coexistence. As it is unsafe to depart from the obvious teaching of the sacred Scriptures on a theme so far removed from all human knowledge, we shall not, in this Life of our Lord, render ourselves subject to the hopeless con- fusions of the theories of the schools, but shall cling to the simple and intelligible representations of the Word. " Great is the mystery of godliness : God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory." (1 Tim. iii. 16.) The Divine Spirit came into the world, in the jDcrson of Jesus, not bearing the attributes of Deity in their full disclosure and power. He came into the world to subject his spirit to that whole discipline and expe- rience through which every man must pass. He veiled his royalty ; he folded back, as it were, within himself those ineffable powers which belonged to him as a free spirit in heaven. He went into captivity to himself, wrapping in weakness and forgetfulness his divine en- ergies, while he was a babe. " Being found in fashion as a man," he was subject to that gradual imfolding of liis buried powers which belongs to infancy and child- hood. "And the child grew, and tmxcd strong in spirit." He was subject to the restrictions which hold and hinder common men. He was to come back to himself little by little. Who shall say that God can- not put himself into finite conditions ? Though as a free spirit God cannot grow, yet as fettered in the flesh he may. Breaking out at times with amazing power, in single directions, yet at other times feeling the mist THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 51 of humanity resting upon his eyes, he declares, " Of that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father." This is just the experience which we should expect in a being whose problem of life was, not the disclosure of the full power and glory of God's natural attributes, but the manifestation of the love of God, and of the extremities of self-renunciation to which the Divine heart would submit, in the rearing up from animalism and passion his family of children. The incessant looking for the signs of divine power and of infinite attributes, in the earthly life of Jesus, whose mission it was to bring the Divine Spirit within the conditions of feeble humanity, is as if one should search a dethroned king, in exile, for his crown and his sceptre. We are not to look for a glorified, an en- throned Jesus, but for God manifest in the flesh; and in this view the very limitations and seeming discrep- ancies in a Divine life become congruous parts of the whole sublime problem. We are to remember that, whatever A'iew of the mystery be taken, there will be difficulties which no ingenuity can solve. But we are to distinguish be- tween difficulties which are inherent in the nature of the Infinite, and those which are but the imperfections of our own philosophy. In the one case, the perplex- ity lies in the weakness of our reason ; in the other, in the weakness of our reasoning. The former will always be burdensome enough, without adding to it the pres- sure of that extraordinary theory of the Incarnation, which, without a single express Scriptural statement in its support, works out a compound divine nature, with- out analogue or parallel in human mental philosophy. 52 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. Early theologians believed suffering to be inconsisi> ent with the Divine perfection. Impassivity was es- sential to true divinity. With such ideas of the Divine nature, how could they believe that Jesus, a man of suffering, and acquainted with grief, was divine ? A human soul was therefore conjoined to the divine, and to that human element were ascribed all the phenom- ena of weakness and suffering which they shrank from imputing to the Deity. This disordered reverence was corroborated by imperfect notions of what constitutes a true manhood. If God became a true man, they aro"ued, he must have had a human soul. As if the Divine nature clothed in flesh did not constitute the most absolute manhood, and fill up the whole ideal ! Man's nature and God's nature do not differ in kind, but in degree of the same attributes. Love in God is love in man. Justice, mercy, benevolence, are not different in nature, but only in degree of power and excellence. "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness." (Gen. i. 26.) "In him we live, and m.ove, and have our being Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God," etc. (Acts xvii. 28, 29.) This identification of the divine and the human na- ture was one of the grand results of the Incarnation. The beauty and preciousness of Christ's earthly life consist in its being a true divine life, a presentation to us, in forms that we can comprehend, of the very thoughts, feelings, and actions of God when placed in our condition in this mortal life. To insert two na- tures is to dissolve the charm. Christ was very God. Yet, w^hen clothed with a hu- man body, and made subject through that body to THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 53 physical laws, he was then a man, of the same moral faculties as man, of the same mental nature, subject to precisely the same trials and temptations, only with- out the weakness of sin. A human soul is not some- thing other, and different from the Divine soul. It is as like it as the son is like his father. God is father, man is son. As God in our place becomes human, — such being the similarity of the essential natures, — so man in God becomes divine. Thus we learn not only to what our manhood is coming, but when the Divine Spirit takes our whole condition upon himself, we see the thoughts, the feelings, and, if we may so say, the private and domestic inclinations of God. What he was on earth, in his sympathies, tastes, friendships, generous famiUarities, gentle condescensions, we shall find him to be in heaven, only in a profusion and amplitude of disclosure far beyond the earthly hints and glimpses. The tears of Christ were born of the flesh, but the tender sympathy which showed itself by those precious tokens dwells unwasted and forever in the nature of God. The gentleness, the compas- sion, the patience, the loving habit, the truth and equity, which were displayed in the daily life of the Saviour, were not so many experiences of a hu- man soul mated with the Divine, but were the proper expressions of the very Divine soul itself, that men might see, in God, a true and perfect manhood. When Jesus, standing before his disciples as a full man, was asked to reveal God the Father, he an- swered, " He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." Manhood is nearer to godhood than we have been wont to believe. 54 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. CHAPTER IV. CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT N.\ZARETH. The parents of Jesus returned to Nazareth, and there for many years they and their child were to dwell. There was nothing that we know of, to distinguish this child from any other that ever was born. It passed through the twilight of infancy as helpless and depend- ent as all other children must ever be. If we had dwelt at Nazareth and daily seen the child Jesus, we should have seen the cradle-life of other children. This was no prodigy. He did not speak wonderful wisdom in his infancy. He slept or waked upon his mother's bosom, as all children do. He unfolded, first the per- ceptive reason, afterwards the voluntary powers. He was nourished and he grew under the same laws which govern infant life now. This then was not a divinity coming through the clouds into human life, full-orbed, triumphing with the undiminished strength of a heavenly nature over those conditions which men must bear. If this was a divine person, it was a divine child, and childhood meant latent power, undeveloped faculty, unripe organs ; a being without habits, without character, without experience ; a cluster of germs, a branch full of unblossomed buds, a mere seed of man- hood. Except his mother's arms, there was no circle of light aljout his head, fondly as artists have loved to paint it. But for the after-record of Scriptures, we should CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 55 have no reason to suppose that this child clifFered in any respect from ordinary children. Yet this was the Son of God ! This was that Word of whom John spake : " In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word 2vas God ! " It was natural that Joseph and Mary should desire to settle in Judsea. Not alone because here was the home of their father David, but esj)ecially because, when once they believed their son Jesus destined to ful- fil the prophecies concerning the Messiah, they would wish him to be educated near to Jerusalem. To them, doubtless, the Temple and its priesthood were yet the highest exponents of religion. Divine Providence however removed him as far from the Temple and its influences as possible. Half- heathen Galilee was better for his youth than Jeru- salem. To Nazareth we must look for his early history. But what can be gleaned there, when for twelve years of childhood the only syllable of history uttered is, "And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him?" Not a single fact is recorded of his appearance, his infantine ways; what his parents thought, what his brothers and sisters thought of him ; the im- pression made by him upon neighbors ; wdiether he went to school ; how early, if at all, he put his hand to work ; whether he was lively and gay, or sad and thoughtful, or both by turns ; whether he was medita- tive and refined, standing apart from others, or robust, and addicted to sports among his young associates : no one knows, or can know, whatever may be inferred or suspected. He emerges for a moment into history 56 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TUE CHRIST. at twelve years of age, going with his parents to Jeru- salem. That glimpse is the last which is given us for the next sixteen or eighteen years. But regarding a life over which men have hung with an interest so absorbing, it is impossible to restrain the imagination. There will always be a filling up of the vacant spaces. If not clone by the pen, it w^ill none the less be clone in some more fiinciful way by free thoughts, which, incited both by curiosity and devotion, will hover over the probabilities when there is nothing better. Nor need this be mischiev- ous. There are certain generic experiences which must have befallen Jesus, because they belong to all human life. He was a child. He was subject to parental authority. He lived among citizens and un- der the laws. He ate, drank, labored, was weary, re- freshed himself by sleej). He mingled among men, transacted affiiirs w^ith them, and exchanged daily salutations. He was pleased or displeased; he was glad often and often sorrowful. He was subject to the oscillations of mood which belong to finely organized persons. There must have been manifestations of filial love. In looking upon men he was subject to emo- tions of grief, pity, and indignation, or of sympathy and approval. He was a child before he was a man.. He had those nameless graces which belong to all ingenuous boys; and though he must have seemed precocious, at least to his own household, there is no evidence that he was thought remarkable by his fellow-citizens. On the other hand, none were less prepared to see him take a prominent part in pub- lic afiliirs than the very people who had known him from mfancy. "Whence hath this man this wisdom, CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 57 and these mighty works ? Is not this the carpenter's son ? Is not his mother called Mary ? and his brethren, James, and Joses, and Simon, and Judas ? and his sisters, are they not all with us ? " — this is not the language of admiring neighbors, who had thought the boy a prod- igy and had always predicted that he would become remarkable ! This incident throws back a light upon his childhood. If he went through the ordinary evolu- tions of youth it is certain that the universal experi- ences of that period must have befallen him. Nothing could be more unnatural than to suppose that he was a child without a childhood, a full and perfect being cleft from the Almighty, as Minerva was fabled to have come from the head of Jupiter ; who, though a Jew, in Nazareth, probably following a carpenter's trade, was yet but a celestial image, a white and slen- der figure floating in a half-spiritual transfiguration through the days of a glorified childhood. He was " the Son of Man," — a real boy, as afterwards he was a most manly man. He knew every step of growth ; he underwent the babe's experience of knowing noth- ing, the child's, of knowing a little, the universal neces- sity of development ! But there is a question of education, which has been much considered. Was the development of his nature the result of internal forces ? Or was he, as other men are wont to be, powerfully affected by external circum- stances ? Was his imagination touched and enriched by the exquisite scenery about him ? Did the historic associations of all this Galilean res-ion around him develop a temper of patriotism ? Was his moral nature educated by the repulsion of ignoble men, — by the necessity of toil, — by the synagogue, — by his mother 58 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. at home, — and by his hours of solitary meditation^ and of holy communion with God ? That Jesus was sensitive to every influence which would shape an honorable nature, is not to be doubted. But whether there was more than mere recipiency, may well be questioned. Circumstances may have been the occasions, but not the causes, of development to a divine mind, obscured in a human body, and learn- ing to regain its power and splendor by the steps which in common men are called growth. We shall make a brief discussion of the point a means of setting before the mind the jDhysical features of Galilee, and the local influences which prevailed there during our Lord's life. If it was desirable to bring up the child Jesus as far as possible from the Temple influence, in Palestine and yet not under excessive Jewish influence, no place could have been chosen better than Nazareth. It was a small village, obscure, and remote from Jerusalem. Its very name had never occurred in the Old Testament records. And though, after the fall of Jerusalem, Gal- ilee was made the seat of Jewish schools of religion, — Sepharis, but a few miles north of Nazareth, being the head-quarters, — yet, at our Lord's birth, and dur- ing his whole life, this region of Palestine was but little affected by Jerusalem. The population was a mixed one, made up of many different nationalities. A debased remnant of the ten tribes, after their cap- tivity had wandered back, with Jewish blood and heathen manners. The Roman armies and Roman rulers had brought into the province a great many foreigners. A large Gentile population had divided with native Jews the towns and villages. Greeks CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 59 swarmed in the larger commercial towns. Galilee was, far more than Judaea, cosmopolitan. Commerce and manufactures had thriven by the side of agriculture. Josephus says that Galilee had more than two hun- dred cities and villages, the smallest of which con- tained not less than fifteen thousand inhabitants. This seems an extravagant statement, but it will serve to convey an idea of the great populousness of the prov- ince in which the youth of Jesus was spent and in which also his public life was chiefly passed. The in- fluences which had changed the people had jorovincial- ized their language. A Galilean was known by his speech, which seems to have been regarded as unre- fined and vulgar.^ Among such a people was the Lord reared. If, as is probable, he followed his father's business and worked among the common people, we may perceive that his education, remote from the Temple, not only saved him from the influence of the dead and corrupt schools of Jerusalem, but brought him into sympa- thetic relations with the most lowly in life. In all his after ministry, apart from his divine insight, he could of his own experience understand the feelings, tastes, and needs of his audiences. " The common people heard him gladly." He had sprung from among them. He had been reared in their pursuits and habits. For thirty years he was a man among men, a laboring man among laboring men. It is in this contact with human life on all its sides, — with the pure Jew, Avith the degenerate Jew, with the Greek, the Phoenician, the Roman, the Syrian, — that we are to look for the most fruitful results of the Lord's youth and manhood in 1 Mark xiv. 70 ; Acts ii. 7. CO THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. Nazareth and the surrounding region. In this rich and populous province the civihzed world was epitomized. Jesus had never travelled as did ancient philosophers ; but he had probably come in contact more largely with various human nature by staying at home, than they had by going abroad. The village of Nazareth had a bad reputation. This is shown in the surprised question of Nathanael, who, being a resident of Cana, m its immediate neighbor- hood, undoubtedly reflected the popular estimate, " Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ? " This ques- tion incidentally shows, also, that our Lord's childhood had not been one of portents and marvels, and had not exhibited any such singular characteristics as to create in the region about him such a reputation as easily grows up among ignorant people around any peculiarity in childhood. Something of the spirit which had given Nazareth such bad repute shows itself on the occasion of our Lord's first preaching there, when, as the application of his discourse was closer than they liked, the people offered him per- sonal violence, showing them to be unrestrained, pas- sionate, and bloodthirsty. The town, or as it then was, the village, of Nazareth was an exquisite gem in a noble setting. All winters grow enthusiastic in the description of its beauty, — a beauty which continues to this day. Stanley, in part quoting Richardson, says : " Fifteen gently rounded hills seem as if they had met to form an enclosure for this peaceful basin. They rise round it like the edge of a shell, to guard it from intrusion. It is a rich and beautiful field in the midst of these green hills, abound- ing in gay flowers, in fig-trees, small gardens, hedges of CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 61 the prickly pear; and the dense rice-grass affords an abundant pasture." ^ The town was built not upon the summit, but upon the sides, of a high hill. The basin runs from north- east to southwest, and it is from its western slope that the village of Nazareth looks forth. It must needs be that, in his boyhood wanderings, Jesus often ascended to the top of the hill, to look over the wide scene which opened before the eye. It often happens that the finest panoramas in mountain coun- tries are not those seen from the highest points. The peculiar conformations of the land frequently give to comparatively low positions a view both wider and no- bler than is obtained from a fourfold height. The hill of Nazareth yielded a view not equalled in Pales- tine,— surpassing that seen from the top of Tabor. The village itself, built on the side of one of the hills which form the mile-long basin, was four hundred feet below the summit, and was so much shut in by sur- rounding heights that it had but little outlook. But from the hill-top behind the village one looked forth upon almost the whole of Galilee, — from Lebanon, and from Hermon, always white with snow, in the far north and northeast, down to the lake of Gennesareth, with Hattin, Tabor, Little Hermon, Gilboa, on the east and southeast; the hills of Samaria on the south; Carmel and the Mediterranean Sea on the southwest and west. Two miles south of the village of Nazareth stretched clear across the breadth of Galilee the noblest plain of Palestine, — Esdraelon, (which name is but a modi- fication of the old word Jezreel), a meadow-like plain with an undulating surface, or, as it would be called in ' Sinai and Palestine, p. 357. I 62 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. our Western phrase, a rolling prairie, three or four miles wide at its widest, and about fifteen in length. These names recall some of the most romantic and critical events of the old Jewish history. The places were identified with the patriarchs, the judges, the jirophets, and the kings of Israel. Across the great plain of Jezreel the tide of battle has not ceased to flow, age after age ; the Midianite, the Amalekite, the Syrian, the Philistine, each in turn rushed through this open gate among the hills, alternately conquering and conquered. Its modern history has made good its ancient experience. It has been the battle-field of ages ; and the threat of war so continually hangs over it, that, while it is the richest and most fruitful part of Palestine, there is not to-day an inhabited city or villao:e in its whole extent. The beauty of all this region in the spring and early summer gives rise to endless praise from travel- lers. It may be doubted wdiether this scene does not owe much to local contrast, and whether, if it were transported to England or to America, wdiere moisture is perpetual, and a kinder sun stimulates but seldom scorches, it would maintain its reputation. But in one respect, probably, it excels all foreign contrasts, and that is, in the variety, succession, and brilliancy of its flowers. The fielcTs* fairly glow with colors, which change every month, and only in August disappear from the plain ; and even then, retreating to the cool ravines and edges of the mountains, they bloom on. The region swarms with singing-birds of every plum- age, besides countless flocks of birds for game.-^ * Professor J L. Porter, in Kitto's Biblical Encyclnpcvrlin (Art. " Gnliloe") says : " Lower Galilee was a land of husbandmen, famed for its corn-fields, as CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. G3 The whole of Gahlee is to every modern traveller made profoundly interesting by the life of Christ, which was so largely spent in it. But no thoughtful mind can help asking, What did it do to him ? Of this the Gospels are silent. No record is made of his youthful tastes, or of his manhood pursuits. We are unwillino: to believe that he never ascended the hill to look out over the noble panorama, and still less are we willing to believe that he beheld all that was there without sensibility, or even with only an ordinary hu- man sensitiveness to nature. We cannot doubt that he beheld the scenes with a grander impulse than man ever knew. He was in his own world. "All things were made by him ; and without him was not anything made that was made." But whether this knowledge existed during his childhood, or whether he came to the full recognition of his prior relations to the world gradually and only in the later years of his life, may be surmised, but cannot be known. It is certain that the general statements which have recently been made, respecting the influence of Naza- reth and its surroundings upon the unfolding of his genius, are without either positive historic evidence Upper Galilee was for its olive groves and Judaea for its vineyards. The rich soil remains, and there are still some fruitful fields; but its inhabitants are few in number, and its choicest plains are desolated by the wild Bedouin. Gali- lee was and is also remarkable for the variety and beauty of its wild flowers. In early spring the whole country is spangled with them, and the air is filled with their odors. Birds, too, are exceedingly numerous. The rocky banks are all alive with partridges ; the meadows swarm with quails and larks ; * the voice of the turtle ' resounds through every grove ; and pigeons are heard cooing high up in the cliff's and glen-sides, and are seen in flocks hovering over the corn-fields. The writer has travelled through Galilee at various seasons, and has always been struck with some new beauty ; the deli- cate verdure of spring, and its blush of flowers, the mellow tints of autumn, and the russet hues of the oak-forests in winter, have all their charms." (34 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. or any internal evidence to be found in his discourses, conversations, and parables. The slightest study of our Lord's discourses will show that he made almost no use of nature, as such, in his thoughts and teachings. He had in his hands the writings of the old prophets of his nation, and he was familiar with their contents. In them he beheld all the aspects of nature, whatever was sublime, and whatever was beautiful, employed to enforce the lessons of morality with a power and poetic beauty which had then no parallel, and which have since had no rival. But there would seem to have been in his own use of lano-uage a striking avoidance of the style of the proph- ets. In the employment of natural objects, no contrast can be imagined greater than that between the records of the Evangelists and the pages of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Habakkuk, and the Psalmists. Our Lord never drew illustrations from original and wild nature, but from na- ture after it had felt the hand of man. Human occu- pations furnish the staple of his parables and illustra- tions. It was the city set upon a hill that our Lord selected, not the high hill itself, or a mountain ; vines and fig-trees, but not the cedars of Lebanon, nor the oaks. The plough, the yoke, the seed-sowing, the har- vest-field, flocks of sheep, bargains, coins, magistrates, courts of justice, domestic scenes, — these are the pre- ferred images in our Saviour's discourses. And yet he had been brought up in sight of the Mediterranean Sea ; for thirty years, at a few steps from his home, he might have looked on Mount Hermon, lifted up in soli- tude above the reach of summer; the history of his people was identified with Tabor, with Mount Gilboa, with Ebal and Gcrizim, — but he made no use of them. CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 66 The very changes which war had wrought upon the face of the country, — the destruction of forests, the drying up of springs of water, the breaking down of terraces, the waste of soil, and the destruction of vine- yards,— were striking analogies of the effects of the passions upon human nature. Yet no allusion is made to these things. There are in the Gospel narratives no waves, clouds, storms, lions, eagles, mountains, forests, plains.-^ The lilies and the sparrows and the reed shaken by the wind are the only purely natural objects which he uses. For water and light (with the one exception of lightning) are employed in their relations of utility. The illustration of the setting sun (Matt. xvi. 2) is but the quotation of a common proverb. The Jordan was the one great historic stream : it is not alluded to. The cities that were once on the plain, Sodom and Gomorrah, are held up in solemn warning; but that most impressive moral symbol, the Dead Sea it- ' When Moses would show God's tender care of Israel, it was the eagle that represented God. " As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings ; so the Lord alone did lead him." (Deut. xxii. 11, 12.) The profound care of our Lord Avas represented by him in the figure of a bird, but taken from husbandry. " How often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not ! " The same contrast exists in the employment of illustrations drawn from the floral kingdom. Had Ruskin been writing, instead of Solomon, he could not have shown a rarer intimacy with flowers than is exhibited in Solo- mon's Songs. " I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. Aa the lily among thorns, so is my love among daughters. As the apple-treo among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." *• j\Iy be- loved spake, and said unto me. Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers ap- pear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle [dove] is heard in our land. The fig-tree puttetli forth her green 6(3 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. self, Christ did not mention. "We must not allow our thoughts to suppose that the Lord's soul did not see or feel that natural beauty which he had himself cre- ated and which he had through ages reproduced with each year. The reasons why his teaching should be unadorned and simple are not hard to find. The literary styles which are most universally attractive, and which are least subject to the capricious change of popular taste, are those which are rich in material, but transparently simple in form. Much as men ad- mire the grandeur of the prophets, they dwell on the words of Christ with a more natural companionship and far more enduring satisfaction. Although it is not expressly said that Christ fol- lowed his father's trade, yet Mark represents the dis- affected people of Nazareth, on the occasion of an un- popular sermon, as saying of Jesus, " Is not this the carpenter?" (Mark vi. 3.) We should not give to the term " carpenter " the close figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a goodly smell " In this joyous sympathy with nature, the Song flows on like a brook fringed with meadow-flowers. "A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse. . . . Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; cam- phire, with spikenard. Spikenard and saffron ; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense ; myrrh, and aloes, with all the chief spices : a fountain of gardens, a well of living Avatcrs, and streams from Lebanon. Awake, O north wind ; and come, thou south, blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out." The single instance, in the Gospels, of an allusion to flowers is remarkably enough in reference to this very Solomon whose words we have just quoted. '* Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin ; and yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his gloi-y was not arrayed like one of these." The aflluence and splendor of illustrations, in the Old Testament, drawn from the poetic side of nature, and in contrast with the lower tone and the domesticity of New Testament figures, will be apparent upon the slightest comparison. CIIILDnOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 67 technical meaning which it has in our day. All trades, as society grows in civilization, become special, each single department making itself into a trade. Carv- ing, cabinet-making, joinery, carpentry, wooden -tool making, domestic -ware manufacturing, tinkering, are each a sub-trade by itself But in our Lord's day, as it is yet in Palestine, they were all included in one busi- ness. The carpenter was a universal worker in wood. He built houses or fences, he made agricultural iin- plements or tools, such as spades, yokes, ploughs, etc., or houseware, chairs, tables, tubs, etc. Carving is a favorite part of the wood-worker's business in the East to-day, and probably was so in ancient times. Justin Martyr says that Jesus made yokes and ploughs, and he spiritualizes them as symbols of obedience and activity. Even had Christ been brought up to wealth as he was to poverty, there would be no reason why he should not have learned a mechanical trade. In this, as in so many other respects, the Jewish people were in prudence greatly in advance of the then civilized world. It Avas not only deemed not disgraceful to learn some manual trade, but a parent was not thought to have done well by his child's education who had not taught him how to earn a living by his hands. But in Joseph's case, little other education, it is probable, had he the means of giving his son. John records the surprise of the scholars of the Temple upon occasion of one of Christ's discourses : " The Jews marvelled, saying, How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?" The term " letters " was used, as it still is, to signify literature, and in this case religious litera- ture, as the Jews had no other. There is no evidence in the Lord's discourse that the occupations of his 68 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. youth had any special influence upon his thoughts or imagination. He made no allusion to tools, he drew no illustrations from the processes of construction, he said nothing which would suggest that he had wrought with hammer or saw. More attractive io the heart are the probable in- fluences of home. It will always make home more sacred to men, that the Lord Jesus was reared by a mother, in the ordinary life of the household. For children, too, there is a Saviour, who was in all things made like unto them. Sacred history makes everything of Mary, and noth- ing of Joseph. It is taken for granted that it was with his mother that Jesus held most intimate com- munion. The adoration of the Virgin by the Romish Church has doubtless contributed largely to this belief There is nothing improbable in it. But it is pure sup- position. There is not a trace of any facts to support it. Though an ordinary child to others, that Jesus was to his parents a child of wonder, can scarcely be doubted. Such manifestations of his nature, as broke forth at twelve years of age in the Temple scene, must have shown themselves at other times in vari- ous ways at home. Yet so entirely are our minds absorbed in his later teachings, and so wholly is his life summed up to us in the three years of his min- istry, that we are not accustomed to recall and fill out his youth as we do his riper years. Who imagines the boy Jesus going or coming at command, — leav- ing home, with his tools, for his daily work, — lifting timber, laying the line, scribing the pattern, fitting and finishing the job, — bargaining for work, demand- ing and receiving his wages, — conversing with fellow- CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 69 workmen, and mingling in their innocent amusements? Yet must not all these things have been ? We must carry along with us that interpreting sentence, which like a refrain should come in with every strain : " In all things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren." (Heb. ii. 17.) In the synagogue and at home he would become fa- miliar with the Scriptures of the Old Testament. This itself was no insignificant education. The institutes of Moses were rich in political wisdom. They have not yet expended their force. The commonwealth es- tablished in the Desert has long ceased, but its seeds have been sown in other continents ; and the spirit of democracy which to-day is gaining ascendency in every land has owed more to the Mosaic than to any other political institution. The Saviour's discourses show that his mind was peculiarly adapted to read the Book of Proverbs with keen relish. Under his eye the practical wisdom of those curt sentences, the insight into men's motives which they give, those shrewd lessons of experience, must have had a larger interpretation than they were wont to receive. If one has observed how the frigid annals of history, when Shakespeare read them, blos- somed out into wonderfid dramas, he can partly im- agine what Solomon's philosophy must have become under the eye of Jesus. He lived in the very sight of places made memor- able by the deeds of his country's greatest men. If he sat, on still Sabbaths, upon the hill-top, — childlike, alter- nately watching and musing, — he must at times have seen the shadowy forms and heard the awful tones of those extraordinary men, the Hebrew prophets. There 70 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. was before him Gilboa-, on which Samuel's shadow eama to Saul and overthrew him. Across these plains and over these solitary mountains, Elijah, that grandest and most dramatic of the old prophets, had often come, and disappeared as soon, bearing the Lord's messao-es, as the summer storm bears the li";htnino;. He could see the very spots where Elisha, prophet of the gentle heart, had wrought kind miracles. The sword of David had flashed over these plains. But it is David's harp that has conquered the world, and his psalms must have been the channels through which the soul of Jesus often found its way back to his Heavenly Father. Not even in his youth are we to suppose that Jesus received unquestioning the writings of the holy men of his nation. He had come to inspire a loftier morality than belonged to the twilight of the past. How early he came to himself, and felt within him the motions of his Godhood, none can tell. At twelve he overrode the interpretations of the doctors, and, as one having authority, sat in judgment upon the imperfect religion of his ancestors. This first visit to Jerusalem stands up in his childhood as Mount Tabor rises from the plain, — the one soH- tary point of definite record. At twelve, the Jewish children were reckoned in the congregation and made their appearance at the great annual feasts. Roads were unknown. Along paths, on foot, — the feeble carried upon mules, — the people made their way by easy stages toward the beloved city. At each step new-comers fell into the ever-swelling stream. Relatives met one another, friends renewed acquaint- ance, and strangers soon lost strangeness in hospitable company. Had it been an Anglo-Saxon pilgrimage, all CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 71 Palestine would scarcely have held the baggage-train of a race that, instead of making a home everywhere, seek everywhere to carry their home with them. The abstemious habits of the Orientals required but a slender stock of provisions and no cumbering baggage. They sang their sacred songs at morning and evening, and on the way. Thus one might hear the last notes of one chant dying in the valley as the first note of another rose upon the hill, and song answered to song, and echoed all along the pleasant way. We can imagine group after group coming at even- ing into the valley of Samaria, — guarded by Gerizim and Ebal, — beginning to feel the presence of those mountain forms which continue all the way to Jeru- salem, and chanting these words : — " I will lift up mine eyes unto the Mils, From whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, Which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved : He that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he that keepeth Israel Shall neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is thy keeper ; The Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, Nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil : He shall preserve thy soul. Tlie Lord shall preserve thy going out, And thy coming in, From this time forth, And even forevermore." Refreshed by sleep, breaking up their simple camp, the mingled throng at early morning start forth again. A voice is heard chanting a psalm. It is caught up by 72 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. others. The whole region resounds. And these are the words : — *' I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord. Our fe2t shall stand Within thy gates, O Jerusalem I Jerusalem is builded As a city that is compact together : Whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, Unto the testimony of Israel, To give thanks unto the name of the Lord. For there are set thrones of judgment, The thrones of the house of David. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem : They shall prosper that love thee. Peace be within thy walls, And prosperity within thy palaces. For my brethren and companions' sakes I will now say, Peace be within thee, < Because of the house of the Lord our God I will seek thy good." The festival over, the mighty city and all its envi- rons sent back the worshippers to their homes. It had been a religious festival, but not the less an uncon- strained social picnic. How freely they mingled with each other, group with group, is shown in the fact that Joseph and Mary had gone a day's journey on the road home before they missed their child. This could not have been, were it not customary for the parties often to break up and mingle in new combinations. " But they, supposing him to have been in the compan}^, went a day's journey." It is plain, then, that at twelve years of age Jesus had outgrown the constant watch of his parents' eyes, and had assumed a degree of manly lib- erty. They turned back. It was three days before they found him. One day was required by the backward CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 73 journey. Two days they must have wandered in and about the city, anxiously enough. In the last place in which they dreamed of looking, they found him, — "in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions." Christ's questions were always like spears that pierced the joints of the harness. It seems that even so early he had begun to wield this weapon. What part of these three days Jesus had spent at the Temple, we are not told. But we may be sure that it was a refreshinor time in that dull circle of doctors. An ingenuous youth, frank, and not hackneyed by the con- ventional ways of the world, with a living soul and a quick genius, is always a fascinating object, and per- haps even more to men who have grown stiff in formal ways than to others. There is something of youthful feeling and of fatherhood yet left in souls that for fifty years have discussed the microscopic atoms of an imaginary philosophy. Besides, where there are five doctors of philosophy there are not less than five opposing schools, and in this case each learned man must needs have enjoyed the palpable hits which his companions received from the stripling. The people who stood about would have a heart for the child : what crowd would not ? And, if he held his own against the doctors of law, all the more the wonder grew. It is not necessary to suppose that a spiritual chord vibrated at his touch in the hearts of all this circle of experts in Temple dialectics. Yet we would fondly imagine that one at least there was — some unnamed Nicodemus, or another Joseph of Arimathea — who felt the fire burn within him as this child spake- Even in Sahara there are 74 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. found green spots, shaded with palms, watered and fruitful. There might have been sweet-hearted men among the Jewish doctors! Upon this strange school, in which the pupil was the teacher and the teachers were puzzled scholars, came at leno-th, her serene face now flushed with alarm, the mother of Jesus. She, all mother, with love's reproach said, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us ? " and he, all inspired with fastrcoming thoughts, answered, "Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business ? " Not yet ! This ministry of youth was not whole- some. Premature prodigies have never done God's work on earth. It would have pleased the appetite for Avonder, had his childhood continued to emit such flashes as came forth in the Temple. But such is not the order of nature, and the Son of God had con- sented to be " made under the law " ! It is plain, from his reply to his mother, that he was conscious of the nature that was in him, and that strong impulses urged him to disclose his power. It is therefore very signifi- cant, and not the least of the signs of divinity, that he ruled his spirit, and dwelt at home in unmurmuring expectation. " He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them." (Luke ii. 51.) This might well be said to be to his childhood what the temptations in the wilderness were to his ministry. The modesty, the filial piety, the perfectness of self- control, contentment in mechanical labor, conscious sov- ereignty undisclosed, a wealth of nature kept back, — in short, the holding of his whole being in tranquil si- lence, waiting for growth to produce his ripe self, and for God, his Father, to shake out the seed which was CUILDEOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 75 to become the bread of the world, — all this is in itself a wonder of divinity, if men were only wise enough to marvel. Christ's greatest miracles were wrought within himself. In a review of the childhood of Jesus, there are several points which deserve special attention. 1. While it is true that, by incarnation, the Son of God became subject to all human conditions, and, among them, to the law of gradual development, by which "he increased in wisdom and stature," — for "the child grciij, and waxed strong in spirit," — we must not fill into the error of supposing that Jesus was moulded by the circumstances in which he was placed. Not his mother, nor the scenery, nor the national as- sociations, nor the occupations of his thirty 3^ears, fashioned him. Only natures of a lower kind are shaped by circumstances. Great natures unfold by the force of that which is within them. When food nourishes, it receives the power to do so by that which the vital power of the body gives it. Food does not give life, but by assimilation receives it. Christ was not the creation of his age. We may trace occasions and external influences of which he availed himself, but his original nature contained in its germ all that he was to be, and needed only a normal unfolding. The absolute independence from all external forma- tive influence, and the sovereignty of the essential self, was never so sublimely asserted as when Jehovah declared, "I am that I am." But, without extrava- gance or immodesty, the mother of Jesus might have written this divine legend upon his cradle. 2. Wo have said nothini*; of the brothers and sisters 76 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHFilST. of our Lord. They are not only mentioned, but the names of his brothers are given, and allusions are made to them in several instances.^ Yet the matter does not prove upon examination to be as simjDle as at first sight it seems. Undoubtedly, it suited the peculiar ideas which were early developed in the Church, to consider Jesus not only the first-born, but the only, child of Mnry. But there are real and intrinsic difficulties in the case. The term brethren was often used in the general sense of relative. To this day authorities of the highest repute are divided in opinion, and in about equal proportions on each side. There are several suppo- sitions concerning these brothers and sisters : They were the children of Joseph by a former marriage ; or, they were adopted from a deceased brother's family; or, they were the children of a sister of the mother of Jesus, and so cousins-german to him ; or, they were the children of Joseph and Mary, and so the real brothers of Jesus. We shall not enter upon the argument.^ The chief point of in- terest is not in doubt : namely, that our Lord was not brought up alone in a household as an only child ; that he was a child among children ; that he was sur- rounded by those who were to him, either really his own brothers and sisters, or just the same in senti- ment. He had this ordinary experience of childhood. The unconscious babe in the cradle has a Saviour who once was as sweetly helpless as it is. The prat- * ]\Littlic;w xii. 4G-50; xiii. 55, 5C. Mark iii. 31 ; vi. 3. Luke viii. 19. John ii. 12; vii. 3. Acts i. 14. * Those who desire to investigate the matter may sec Andrews's very clear and judicial estimate of the case (Life of our Lord, pp. 101- IIG); also, Lange, Life of Christ, Vol. I. pp. 421-437. CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 77 tling child is passing along that path over which the infant footprints of Jesus were marked. The later friendships of brothers and sisters derive a sacred influence from the love which Jesus bore to his sisters while growing up with them. There is thus an example for the household, and a gospel for the nursery, in the life of Jesus, as well as an "ensarnple" in his manhood for the riper years of men. 3. While we do not mean to raise and discuss, in this work, the many difficulties which are peculiar to critics, there is one connected with this period of our Lord's life which we shall mention, for the sake of laying down certain principles which should guide us in reading the Sacred Scriptures. Matthew declares that " he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth : that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophets. He shall be called a Naz- arene." No such line has ever been found in the prophets. Infinite ingenuity of learning has been brought to bear upon this difficulty, Avithout in the slightest de- gree solving it. It is said that the term " Nazareth " is derived from iiebxr, a sprout, as the region around Nazareth is covered with bushes ; and by coupling this with Isaiah xi. 1, Avhere the Messiah is predict- ^ cd under the name of a Branch, the connection is established. That Mr.tthcw, the most literal and unimaginative of all the Evangelists, should have be- taken himself to such a subtle trick of lanii'uacj'e, Avould not surprise us had he lived in England in Shakespeare's time. But as he wrote to Jews who did not believe that Christ was the Messiah, we should, by adopting this play on words, only change 78 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TEE CHRIST. the verbal difficulty into a psychological one still more vexatious. Others have supposed that Matthew referred to some apocryphal book, or to some prophecy now lost. This is worse than ingenious. It is perverse. The Old Testament canon was, and had long been, complete when Matthew wrote. What evidence is there that anything had ever been dropped from it, — or that any apocryphal book had ever existed, con- taining this sentence ? Is our faith in the inspired record helped or hindered by the introduction of such groundless fancies ? The difficulty of the text is not half so dangerous as is such a liberty taken in explain- ing it. Others of this ingenious band of scholars derive the name Nazarene from who; that which guards. Others think that it is from neh-e?; to separate, as if the Messiah were to be a NazanV^, which he was not; nor was it anywhere in the Old Testament pre- dicted that he should be. Lange supposes that, already when Matthew wrote, Nazarene had become a term of such universal reproach, as to be equivalent to the general representations of the prophets that the Mes- siah should be despised and rejected, and that it might even be interchangeable with them. The whole ground of this explanation is an assumption. That Nazarene was a term of reproach, is very likely, but that it had become a generic epithet for humiliation, rejection, scorn, persecution, and all maltreatment, is nowhere evident, and not at all probable. But Avhat would happen if it should be said that Matthew recorded the current impression of his time in attributing this declaration to the Old Testament prophets? Would a mere error of reference invali- CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 79 date the trustworthiness of the EvangeUst? We lean our whole weight upon men who are fallible. Must a record be totally infallible before it can be trusted at all ? Navigators trust ship, cargo, and the lives of all on board, to calculations based on tables of loga- rithms, knowing that there was never a set computed, without machinery, that had not some errors in it. The supposition, that to admit that there are imma- terial and incidental mistakes in the Sacred Writ would break the confidence of men in it, is contra- dicted by the uniform experience of life, and by the whole procedure of society. On the contrary, the shifts and ingenuities to which critics are obliofed to resort either blunts the sense of truth, or disgusts men with the special pleading of crit- ics, and tends powerfully to general unbelief The theory of Inspiration must be founded upon the claims which the Scriptures themselves make. "All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profita- ble for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruc- tion in righteousness; that the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works." (2 Tim. iii. 16, 17.) Under this declaration, no more can be claimed for the doctrine of Inspiration than that there shall have been such an influence exerted upon the formation of the record that it shall be the truth respecting God, and no falsity ; that it shall so expound the duty of man under God's moral government, as to secure, in all who will, a true holiness ; that it shall contain no errors which can affect the essential truths taught, or which shall cloud the reason or sully the moral sense. But it is not right or prudent to infer, from the 80 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. Biblical statement of inspiration, that it makes pro- vision for the very words and sentences ; that it shall raise the inspired penmen above the possibility of lit- erary inaccuracy, or minor and immaterial mistakes. It is enough if the Bible be a sure and sufficient guide to spiritual morality and to rational piety. To erect for it a claim to absolute literary infallibility, or to infalli- bility in things not directly pertaining to fliith, is to weaken its real authority, and to turn it aside from its avowed purpose. The theory of verbal inspiration brings a strain upon the Word of God which it cannot bear. If rigorously pressed, it tends powerfully to bigotry on the one side and to infidelity on the other. The inspiration of holy men is to be construed as we do the doctrine of an overruling and special Provi- dence ; of the divine supervision and guidance of the Church ; of the faithfulness of God in answering prayer. The truth of these doctrines is not inconsis- tent with the existence of a thousand evils, mischiefs, and mistakes, and with the occurrence of wanderings long and almost fiital. Yet, the general supervision of a Divine Providence is rational. We might expect that there would be an analogy between God's care and education of the race, and His care of the Bible in its formation. Around the central certainty of saving truth are wrapped the swaddling-clothes of human language. Neither the condition of the human understanding, nor the nature of human speech, which is the vehicle of thought, admits of more than a fragmentary and par- tial presentation of truth. " For we know in imrt, and we prophesy in iiarL'" (1 Cor. xiii. 9.) Still less are we then to expect that there will be perfection in this CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 81 vehicle. And incidental errors, which do not reach the substance of truth and duty, which touch only contin- gent and external elements, are not to be regarded as inconsistent with the fact that the Scriptures were i^i- spired of God. Nor will our reverence for the Scrip- tures be impaired if, in such cases, it be frankly said, Here is an insoluble difficulty. Such a course is far less dangerous to the moral sense than that pernicious ingenuity which, assuming that there can be no literal errors in Scripture, resorts to subtle arts of criticism, improbabilities of statement, and violence of construc- tion, such as, if made use of m the intercourse of men in daily life, would break up society and destroy all faith of man in man. We dwell at length upon this topic now, that we may not be obliged to recur to it when, as will be the case, other instances arise in which there is no solution of unimportant, though real, literary difficulties. There are a multitude of minute and, on the whole, as respects the substance of truth, not important ques- tions and topics, which, like a fastened door, refuse to be opened by any key which learning has brought to them. It is better to let them stand closed than, like impatient mastiffs, after long barking in vain, to he whining at the door, unable to enter and unwilHng to go away. 82 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. CHAPTER y. THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. The long silence is ended. The seclusion is over, with all its wondrous inward experience, of which no record has been made, and which must therefore be left to a reverent imagination. Jesus has now reached the age which custom has established among his peo- ple for the entrance of a priest upon his public duty. But, first, another voice is to be heard. Before the ministry of Love begins, there is to be one more great prophet of the Law, who, with stern and severe fidel- ity, shall stir the conscience, and, as it were, open the furrows in which the seeds of the new life are to be sown. Every nation has its men of genius. The direction which their genius takes will be determined largely by the peculiar education which arises from the position and history of the nation ; but it will also depend upon the innate tendencies of the race-stock. The original tribal organizations of Israel were moulded by the laws and institutions of Moses into a commonwealth of peculiar characteristics. E:ich tribe scrupulously preserved its autonomy, and in its own province had a local independence ; while the whole were grouped and confederated around the Tabernacle, and afterwards about its outgrowth, the Temple. On the one side, the nation approximated to a democracy ; THE VOICE IN TUE WILDERNESS. 83 on the other, to a monarchy. But the throne, inde- pendent of the people, was not independent of an aris- tocracj. The priestly class combined in itself, as in Egypt, the civil and sacerdotal functions. The Hebrew government was a theocratic democracy. A fierce and turbulent people had great power over the govern- ment. The ruling class was, as in Egypt it had been, the priestly class. The laws which regulated personal rights, property, industry, marriage, revenue, military affairs, and religious worship were all ecclesiastical, — were interpreted and administered by the hierarchy. The doctrine of a future existence had no place in the Mosaic economy, either as a dogma or as a moral influ- ence. The sphere of religion was wholly within the secular horizon. There was no distinction, as with us, of things civil and things moral. All moral duties were civil, and all civil were moral duties. Priest and magistrate were one. Patriotism and piety were identical. The military organization of the Jews was Levitical. The priest wore the sword, took part in planning campaigns, and led the people in battle.^ The Levitical body was a kind of national university. Lit- erature, learning, and the fine arts, in fo far as they had existence, were preserved, nourished, and diffused by the priestly order. Under such circumstances, genius must needs be re- ligious. It must develop itself in analogy with the history and institutions of the people. The Hebrew man of genius was the prophet. The strict priest was narrow and barren ; the prophet was a son of liberty, a child of inspiration. All other men touched ' For some instructive and interesting remarks on this topic, see A. P. Stanley, Jewish Church, § 2, p. 448. 84 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. the ground. He only had wings ; he was orator, poet, smger, civiHan, statesman. Of no close profession, he performed the functions of all, as by turns, in the great personal freedom of his career, he needed their elements. That temperament which now underlies genius was also the root of the prophetic nature. In ordinary men, the mind-system is organized with only that deo-ree of sensibihty which enables it to act under the stimulus of external influences. The ideal perfect man is one who, in addition, has such fineness and sensibility as to originate conceptions from interior cerebral stimulus. He acts without w^aiting for ex- ternal solicitation. The particular mode of this auto- matic action varies with different persons. With all, however, it has this in common, that the mind does not creep step by step toward knowledge, gaining it by lit- tle and little. It is rather as if knowledge came upon the soul by a sudden flash ; or as if the mind itself had an illuminating power, by which suddenly and in- stantly it poured forth light upon external things. This was early called inspiration, as if the gods had breathed into the soul something of their omniscience. It is still called inspiration. If the intellect alone has this power of exaltation and creativeness, we shall behold genius in literature or science. But if there be added an eminent moral sense and comprehensive moral sentiments, we shall have, in peaceful times, men who will carry ideas of right, of justice, of mercy, far beyond the bounds at which they found them, — moral teachers, judges, and creative moralists; and in times of storm, reformers and martyrs. THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 35 This constitution of genius is not something abnor- mal. Complete development of all the body and all the mind, with a susceptibility to automatic activity, is ripe and proper manhood. To this the whole race is perhaps approximating, and, in the perfect day, will attain. But in a race rising slowly out of animal condition, in possession of unripe faculties, left almost to chance for education, there sometimes come these higher na- tures, men of genius, who are not to be deemed crea- tures of another nature, lifted above their fellows for their own advantage and enjoyment. They are only elder brethren of the race. They are appointed lead- ers, going before their child-brethren, to inspire them with higher ideas of life, and to show them the way. By their nature and position they are forerunners, seers, and foreseers. Such men, among the old Jews, became prophets. But a prophet was more than one who foretold events. He forefelt and fore taught high moral truths. He had escaped the thrall of passion in which other men lived, and, without help inherited from old civilizations, by the force of the Divine Spirit acting upon a nature of genius in moral directions, he went ahead of his na- tion and of his age, denouncing evil, revealing justice, enjoining social purity, and inspiring a noble piety. A prophet was born to his office. Whoever found in himself the uprising soul, the sensibility to divine truth, the impulse to proclaim it, might, if he pleased, be a prophet, in the peculiar sense of declaring the truth and enforcing moral ideas. The call of God, in all ages, has come to natures already prepared for the office to which they were called. Here was a call 86 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. in birth-structure. This was well understood by the prophets. Jeremiah explicitly declares that he was created to the prophetic office : "The word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee ; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations." (Jer. i. 4, 5.) When God calls men, he calls thoroughly and begins early. The prophets, although wielding great influence, seem not to have been inducted into office by any ecclesiastical authority. There was no provision, at least in early times, for their continuance and succes- sion in the community. There was no regular suc- cession. Occasionally they shot up from the people, by the impulse of their own natures, divinely moved. They were confined to no grade or class. They might be priests or commoners ; they might come of any tribe. In two instances eminent prophets were women ; and one of them, Huldah, was of such repute that to her, though Jeremiah was then alive and in fall authority, King Josiah sent for advice in impending public dan- ger. (2 Kings xxii. 14 - 20.) It was from the free spirit of the prophet in the old Jewish nation, and not from the priesthood, that religious ideas grew, and enlarged interpretations of religion proceeded. The priest indeed had a very limited sphere. The nature of the Temple service re- quired him to be but little conversant with the living souls of men, and as little with ideas. In preparing the sacrifices of oxen, of sheep, of birds, the Temple or Tabernacle could have appeared to the modern eye but little less repulsive than a huge ahcdtoir. The priests, with axe and knife, slaughtering herds of animals, THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. g7 needed to be, and certainly in the early days were, men of nerve and muscle, rather than men of rich emotion or of strong religious feeling/ The subordi- nate priests had as little occasion for moral feelino-, in the performance of their ordinary duties, as laborers in the shambles. The higher officers were neither teachers nor preachers. In scarcely a single point, from the high-priest downward, do the members of the Jewish hierarchy resemble the Christian minister. It is true that the Levites were appointed to instruct the people in the Law ; but this instruction consisted merely in an occasional public reading of the Levitical Scriptures. Until after the captivity, and down to a comparatively late period in Jewish history, this func- tion w^as irregularly performed, and w^ith but little effect. If there had been no other source of moral influence than the priesthood, the people might almost as well have been left to themselves. The prophetic impulse had been felt long before the Levitical institutes were framed. Now and then, at wide intervals, men of genius had arisen, who carried forward the moral sentiment of their age. They en- larged the bounds of truth, and deepened in the con- sciences of men moral and religious obligations. It is only through the imagination that rude natures can be spiritually influenced. These men were often great ^ 'Wlien Solomon brought up the ark and the sacred vessel to the new Temple, it is said that he sacrificed sheep and oxen " that could not be told nor numbered for multitude," and, at the close of the dedicatory services, " Solomon offered a sacrifice of peace-offerings, -which he oifered unto the Lord, two and twenty thousand oxen, and an hundred and twenty thousand sheep. So the king and all the children of Israel dedicated the house of the Lord." (1 Kings viii. 5, G3 ) This must have been the climax. Such gigantic slaughters could not have been common. But the regular sacrifices involved the necessity of killing vast numbers of animals. 88 TUB LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. moral dramatists. They kept themselves aloof. Some of them dwelt in solitary places, and came upon the people at miexpected moments. The prophets were intensely patriotic. They were the defenders of the common people against oppressive rulers, and they stirred them up to throw off foreign rule. Wild and weird as they often were, awful in their severity, car- rying justice at times to the most bloody and terrific sacrifices, they were notwithstanding essentially hu- mane, sympathetic, and good. The old jDrophets were the men in whom, in a desolate age, and in almost savage conditions of society, the gentler graces of the soul took refuge. We must not be deceived by their rugged exterior, nor by the battle which they made for the right. Humanity has its severities ; and even love, striving; for the crown, must fio-ht. Like all men who reform a corrupt age, the rude violence of the prophets was exerted against the animal that is in man, for the sake of his spiritual nature. Had there been but the influence of the Temple or of the Tabernacle to repress and limit the outflow of those passions which make themselves channels in every society of men, they would have swept like a flood, and destroyed the foundations of civil life. It was the prophet who kept alive the moral sense of the people. He taught no subtilties. It was too early, and this was not the nation, for such philosophy as sprung up in Greece. The prophet seized those great moral truths which inhere in the very soul of man, and which natural and revealed religion hold in common. Their own feelings were roused by mysterious contact with the forces of the invisible world. They con- fronted alike the court and the nation with audacious THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 89 fidelity. Often themselves of the sacerdotal order, and exercising the sacrificial functions of the priest (as in the instance of Samuel), yet when, in later times, true spirituality had been overlaid and destroyed by ritu- alism, they turned against the priest, the ritual, and the Temple. They trod under foot the artificial sanctity of religious usages, and vindicated the authority of morality, humanity, and simple personal piety against the superstitions and the exactions of religious institu- tions and their officials, Jeremiah speaks so slightingly of sacrifices as to seem to deny their divine origin. He represents God as say- ing : " For I spake not unto your fathers, nor com- manded them in the day that I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning burnt-offerings or sacri- fices. But this thing commanded I them, saying, Obey my voice, and I will be your God, and ye shall be my people." (Jer. vii. 22, 23.) Isaiah is even bolder : " To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me ? . . . . Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth Your hands are full of blood. Wash you, make you clean Seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow." (Isa. i. 11 - 17.) Amos, in impetuous wrath, cries out : " I hate, I de- spise your feast-days, and I will not smell in your solemn assemblies Take thou away from me the noise of thy songs But let judgment run down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream." (Amos V. 21 - 24.) Considering the honor in which he was held, and the influence allowed him, the old j)ropliet was the freest- speaking man on record. Not the king, nor his coun- 90 TnE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. sellers, nor priests, nor the people, nor prophets them- selves, had any terror for him. When the solemn in- fluence coming from the great invisible world set in upon his soul, his whole nature moved to it, as the tides move to celestial power. But the prophet did not live always, nor even often, in these sublime elevations of feeling. The popidar notion that, wrapt in moods of grandeur, he was al- ways looking into the future, and drawing forth secrets from it3 mysterious depths, — a Aveird fisher upon the shores of the infinite, — is the very reverse of truth. Revelatory inspirations were occasional and rare. They seldom came except in some imminent catastro- phe of the nation, or upon some high-handed aggres- sion of idolatry or of regal immorality. The prophet labored with his hands, or was a teacher. At certain periods, it would seem as if in his care were placed the music, the poetry, the oratory, and even the jurispru- dence of the nation. The phrase "to prophesy" at first signified an uncontrollable utterance under an overruling possession, or inspiration. It was an irre-- sistible rhapsody, frequently so like that of the insane, that in early times, and among some nations even yet, the insane were looked upon with some awe, as persons overcharged with the prophetic spirit. But in time the term assumed the meaning of moral dis- course, vehement preaching ; and finally it included simple moral teaching. In the later periods of Jewish history, the term " to prophesy " was understood in much the same sense as our phrases " to instruct," " to indoctrinate." Paul says, " He that prophesieth speak- eth unto men to edification, and exhortation, and com- fort." (1 Cor. xiv. 3.) The criticisms and commands THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 91 of the Apostle respecting prophecy show clearly that in his day it was in the nature of sudden, impulsive, impassioned discourse, — that it was, in short, sacred oratory. The absolute spontaneity of the old prophet, in con- trast with the perfunctory priest, is admirable. Out of a ritual service rigid as a rock is seen gushing a liberty of utterance that reminds one of the rock in the wilderness when smitten with the prophet's rod. Although the prophets were the religious men, far more revered for sanctity than the priests, it was not because they held aloof from secular affairs. They were often men of rigor, but never ascetics. They never despised common humanity, either in its moral or in its secular relations. The prophet was sometimes the chief justice of the nation, as Samuel ; or a councillor at court, as Nathan ; or a retired statesman, consulted by the rulers, as Elisha ; or an iron reformer, as Elijah ; or the censor and theologian, as Isaiah, who, like Dante, clothed phi- losophy Avith the garb of poetry, that it might have power to search and to purify society. But whatever else he was, the prophet w^as the great exemplar of personal freedom. He represented absolute personal liberty in religious thought. He often opposed the government, but in favor of the state ; he inveighed against the church, but on behalf of religion ; he de- nounced the people, but always for their own highest good. It must be through some such avenue of thought that one approaches the last great prophet of the Jew- ish nation. The morning star of a new era, John is speedily lost in the blaze of Him who was and is the 92 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. " Light of the world." His history seems short. The child of prophecy, — the youth secluded in the soli- tudes,— the voice in the wilderness, — the crowds on the Jordan, — the grasp of persecution, — the death in prison, — this is the outline of his story. But in the filling up, what substance of manhood must have been there, what genuine power, what moral richness in thought and feeling, what chivalric magnanimity, to have drawn from Jesus the eulogy, " Among those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist"! But his was one of those lives which are lost to themselves that they may spring up in others. He came both in grandeur and in beauty, like a summer storm, which, falling in rain, is lost in the soil, and reappears neither as vapor nor cloud, but transfused into flowers and fruits. One particular prophet was singled out by our Lord as John's prototype, and that one by far the most dra- matic of all the venerable brotherhood. " If ye will receive it, this is Elias, which was for to come " (Matt. xi. 14), — Elijah, called in the Septuagint ver- sion Elias. Malachi, whose words close the canon of the Jewish Scriptures, had declared, "Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet, before the coming of the great and dreadfid day of the Lord." There was, therefore, a universal expectation among the Jews that the Messiah should be preceded by Elijah.^ It was ^ Stanley says of this prophet: — " lie stood alone against Jezebel. He stands alone in many senses among the prophets. Nursed in the bosom of Israel, the prophetical portion, if one may so say, of the chosen people, vin- dicating the true religion from the nearest danger of overthrow, setting at defiance by invisible power the whole forces of the Israelite kingdom, he reached a height equal to that of Moses and Samuel in the traditions of his country. " lie was the prophet for whose return in later years his countrymen have THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 93 an expectation not confined to the Jews, but shared by the outlying tribes and nations around Palestine. There is no real interior resemblance between John and Elijah. Their times were not alike. There are not elsewhere in recorded history such dramatic ele- ments as in the career of Elijah. Irregular, almost fitful, Elijah the Tishbite seemed at times clean gone forever, dried up like a summer's brook. Then sud- denly, like that stream after a storm on the hills, he came down with a flood. His sudden appearances and as sudden vanishings were perfectly natural to one who had been reared, as he had been, among a nomadic people, not unlike the Bedouin Arabs. But to us they seem more like the mystery of spiritual apparitions. When the whole kingdom and the regions round about were searched for him in vain hy the inquisitorial Jezebel, then, without warning, he ajopeared before the court, overawed its power, and carried away the peo- ple by an irresistible fascination. Almost alone, and mourning over his solitariness, he buffeted the idola- trous government for long and weary years of discour- agement. His end was as wonderful as his career. Caught up in a mighty tempest, he disappeared from looked with most eager hope. The last prophet of the old dispensation clung to this consolation in the decline of the state. " In the gospel history we find this expectation constantly excited in each successive appearance of a new prophet. It was a fixed belief of the Jews that he had appeared again and again, as an Arabian merchant, to wise and good rabbis at their prayers or on their journeys. A seat is still placed for him to superintend the circumcision of the Jewish children. " Passover after Passover, the Jews of our own day place the paschal cup on the table and set the door wide open, believing that this is the mo- ment when Elijah will reappear. " When goods are found and no owner comes, when difficulties arise and no solution appears, the answer is, ' Put them by till Elijah comes.' " — Stan- ley, History of the Jewish Church, Part II. p. 290. 94 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. the earth, to be seen no more, until, in the exquisite vision of the Transfiguration, his heavenly spirit blos- somed into light, and hung above the glowing Saviour and the terrified disciples. " This is Elias, which was for to come." John from his childhood had been reared in the rugged re- gion west of the Dead Sea, southeast from Jerusalem and Bethlehem. (Luke i. 80.) His raiment was a cloth of camel's hair, probably a long robe fjistened round the waist with a leathern girdle. Whether he lived more as a hermit or as a shepherd, we cannot tell. It is probable that he was each by turns. In a manner which is peculiarly congenial to the Oriental imagination, he fed his moral nature in solitude, and by meditation gained that education which with West- ern races comes by the activities of a benevolent life. He probably surpassed his great prototype in native power and in the importance of his special mission, but fell below him in duration of action and dramatic effect. Elijah and John were alike unconventional, each hav- ing a strong though rude individualism. Living in the wilderness, fed by the thoughts and imaginations which great natures find in solitude, their characters had woven into them not one of those soft and silvery threads which fly back and forth incessantly from the shuttle of civilized life. They l^egan their ministry without entanglements. They had no 3'oke to break, no harness to cast off, no customs to renounce. They came io society, not from it. Each of them, single-handed, attacked the bad morals of society and the selfish conduct of men. Though of a priestly family, John did not represent the Temple or its schools. He came in the name of no Jewish THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 95 sect or party. He was simply "the voice of One cry- ing in the wilderness." John was Christ's forerunner, as the ploughman goes before the sower. Before good work can be expected, there must be excitement. The turf-bound surface of communities must be torn up, the compacted soil turned to the air and light. Upon the rough furrows, and not on the shorn lawn, is there hope for the seed. This great work of arousing the nation befitted John. His spirit was of the Law. He had, doubtless, like his ancient brethren of the prophet brood, his mysterious struggles with the infinite and the un- known. He had felt the sovereignty of conscience. Right and wrong rose before his imagination, amidst the amenities of an indulgent life, like Ebal and Geri- zim above the vale of Samaria. In his very prime, and full of impetuous manhood, he came forth from the wilderness, and began his career by the most direct and unsparing appeals to the moral sense of the people. There was no sensuous mysticism, no subtile philosophy, no poetic enchantment, no tide of pleasurable emotion. He assailed human conduct in downright earnest. He struck right home at the unsheltered sins of guilty men, as the axe-man strikes. Indeed, the axe should be the sign and symbol of John.^ There are moods in men that invite such moral aorgression as his. When a large and magnetic nature appears, with power to grasp men, the moral feeling becomes elec- tric and contagious. Whole communities are fired. They rise up against their sins and self-indulgent hab- * " Anfl now ," says Matthew). But Mark's language is THE TEMPTATION. \Yj more strikingly significant of the prophetic orgasm : " And immediately the Spirit drivdh him into the wil- derness." This is the language of the prophet-parox- ysm. Seized with an irresistible impulse, so the " holy men of old " were impelled by the Spirit. Thus Eze- kiel says : " In the visions of God brought he me into the land of Israel, and set me upon a very high moun- tain." (Ezek. xl. 2.) The operation of the Divine in- spiration upon the mind of Ezekiel throws important light upon the philosophy of this opening scene of Christ's ministry. We believe the temptation of Christ to have been an actual experience, not a dream or a parable, in Avhich his soul, illumined and exalted by the Spirit of God, was brought into personal conflict with Satan ; and the conflict was none the less real and historic; because the method involved that extraordinary ecstasy of the prophet-mind. Of the peculiarities of the pro- phetic state we shall speak a little further on. The whole life of Christ stands between two great spheres of temptation. The forty days of the wilder- ness and the midnight in the garden of Gethsemane are as two great cloud-gates, of entrance to his min- istry and of exit from it. In both scenes, silence is the predominant quality. The first stage of the Temptation includes the forty days of fasting. This may be said to have been the private struggle and personal probation. The forty days w^ere not for human eyes. If the history of these experiences was ever spoken, even to the ear of John, the most receptive of the disciples, it was not designed for record or publication. It is more probable that the experience was incommunicable. i '\ 118 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. Even in our lower sphere, mental conflicts cannot be adequately reported. The vacillations of the soul, a full expression of its anxieties, its agonizing suspense, shame, remorse, of its yearnings and ambitions, cannot be uttered or ^vritten. For the word "shame" does not describe the experience of shame. Nor is the word " love " a portrait of love. The real life of the heart is always mifolding in silence ; and men of large natures carry in the centre of their hearts a secret garden or a silent wilderness. But in how much greater degree is this true of the mystery of Christ's temptation in the wilderness, and of his trial m Geth- semane ! If there are no heart-words for full human feelinor, how much less for divine ! We know that Jesus grappled with the powers of the invisible world, and that he was victorious. His life in the wilderness is not to be imagined as the retirement of a philosoj^hic hermit to contemplative solitude. The cavei^nous mountain was not merely a study, in which our Lord surveyed in advance the purposes of his ministerial life. All this, doubtless, formed a part of his exj^erience; but there was more than studious leisure and natural contemplation. There was a conflict between his soul and the powers of dark- ness ; a sphere of real energy, in which the opposing elements of good and evil in the universe met in intense opposition. Out from that infinite aerial ocean in the great Ob- scure, beyond human life, came we know not what winds, what immeasurable and sweeping forces of temptation. But that the power and kingdom of the Devil were there concentrated upon him was the be- lief of liis disciples and the teaching of the Apostles, THE TEMPTATION. 119 and it is the faith of the Christian Church. It is not needful for us to understand each struggle and its vic- tory. It is enough for us to know, that in this un- friendly solitude every faculty in man that is tried in ordinary life was also tested and proved in Jesus. He was "tempted in all pohiis" or faculties, as we are, though not with the same means and implements of temptation. No human being will ever be tried in appetite, in passion, in affection, in sentiment, in will and reason, so severely as was the Lord ; and his vic- tory was not simply that he withstood the particular blasts that rushed upon him, but that he tested the utmost that Satan could do, and was able to bear up against it, and to come off a conqueror, — every fac- v ulty stamped with the sign of invincibihty. The proof of this appeared in aU his career. The members of his soul were put to the same stress that sinful men experience in daily life. There may be new circumstances, but no new temptations; there may be new cunning, new instruments, new conditions, but nothing will send home temptation with greater force than he experienced, or to any part of the soul not assaulted in him. Through that long battle of life in which every man is engaged, and in every mood of the struggle which men of aspiration and moral sense ■• make toward perfect holiness, there is an inspiration of comfort to be derived from the example of Christ. In places the most strange, and in the desolate way where men dwell with the wild beasts of the passions, if there be but a twilight of faith, we shall find his footstep, and know that he has been there, — is there again, living over anew in us his own struggles, and saying, with the authority of a God and the tenderness 120 TUB LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. of a father : " In the world ye shall have tribulation ; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." The world is a better place to live in since Christ suf- ered and triumphed in it. We pass now to another form of the Temptation. It was no longer to be a private and personal scrutiny. Jesus had baffled the tempter, and driven him back from the gate of every emotion. But Jesus was not to be a private citizen. He had a transcendent work to perform, of teaching and of suffering. His hands were to bear more largely than before the power of God. Since the descent upon him of the Spirit on the banks of the Jordan, the hidden powers of his nature were springing into activity. Only when he was prepared to lay aside the clog of an earthly body could he be clothed again with all that glory which he had with the Father before the world was. But the entrance upon his public ministry was to be signalized, if not by the disclosure of his full nature, yet by an ampler in- telligence and a wider scope of power. Tropical plants in northern zones, brought forward under glass, their roots compressed to the size of the gardener's pot, and their tops pruned back to the dimensions of the green- house, are at midsummer turned out into the open ground, and there shoot forth with new life and vigor; and yet never, in one short August, attain to the gran- deur of their native tropical growth. So this Heav- enly Palm, dropped down upon Palestine, dwarfed by childhood and youth, shot forth new growth when enfranchised by the Holy Spirit; and yet could not in this climate, in the short summer of human life, swell to the full proportions of its celestial life. These swellings of power, this new radiance of Intel- , THE TEMPTATION. 121 llgence, were to be employed according to the law of Heaven ; and to this end was permitted that dramatic threefold temptation with which the scene in the wil- derness closes. We have already said that the three closing tempta- tions of Christ are to be regarded, not as parables, but as prophetic visions. They were historical events, but in the same sense as the visions of Isaiah or of Ezekiel were historical. Jesus was a Hebrew, and stood in the line of the Hebrew prophets. However fantastic the scenery and the action of the closing temptations may seem to modern thought, they were entirely congruous with the Hebrew method of evolving the highest moral truths. Nor can we fully appreciate them with- out some knowledge of the prophetic ecstasy. The prophet-mind, in its highest moods, hung in a i trance between the real physical life and the equally real spiritual state. The inspiration of those moods seems to have carried up the mind far beyond its ordinary instruments. Not ideas, but pictures, were before it. The relations of time and place seemed to disappear. The prophet, though stationary, seemed to himself to be ubiquitous. He was borne to distant nations, made the circuit of kingdoms, held high con- ference with monarchs, saw the events of empires dis- closed as in a glass. His own body often became unconscious. He lost ordinary sight of the physical world. He slept. He swooned. For long periods of time he neither hungered nor thirsted. The prophets saw visions of the spirit-land. Angels conversed with them. The throne of God blazed full upon their daz- zled eyes, I More wonderfid still was the symbolization employed 122 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. in this prophetic state. All the globe became a texi> book. Beasts were symbols of kings or of kingdoms. Floods, whirlwinds, and earthquakes moved in proces- sion before them as types of events in history. The rush and might of human passions, revolutions, and wars were written for them in signs of fire and blood. Captivity and dispersion were set forth in the gorgeous imagery of storm-driven clouds ; of the sun and moon stained with blood ; of stars, panic-stricken, like de- feated warriors, rushing headlong through the heavens. How little are the close-cut wings of the modern imagination prepared to follow the circuits of men who dwelt in this upper picture-world, where the reason was inspired through the imagination ! Physical sci- ence has as yet no analogue for such moods. The alembic says. It is not in me ; the rocks and soil say, It is not in us. Poets, nearest of any, are in sympa- thy with the prophets ; but they mostly sing in the boughs, low down, and not from the clear air above. The whole life of the prophet was absorbed into an intense spiritual intuition. The moral faculties of the human soul have this susceptibility to ecstatic exaltation, and therefore the prophetic mood was in so far natural. But these facul- ties never unfold into the ecstatic visions of prophecy except by the direct impulse of the Divine power. And herein the prophetic differs from the merely poetic. If the prophets had left only these gigantic frescoes, we might pass them by as the extraordinary pro- duct of fantasy. But this was the prophetic style of thinking. Out of all this wonderful commixture came the profoundest teaching in regard to national moral- THE TEMPTATION. 123 ity, the most advanced views of their times as to personal purity and dignity, the most terrible invec- tives against dishonor in the individual and corrupr tion in the government. Those clouds and flames and storms, those girdles and yokes and flails, those trumjDets and voices and thunders, were only so many letters by which were spelled out, not merely the no- blest spiritual truths of the prophets' age, but truths which are the glory of all ages. Men often are glad of the fruit of the prophetic teaching, who reject with contempt the methods by which prophets taught. The effect becomes ludicrous when modern inter- preters, not content with a disclosure of the ruling thought, attempt to transform the whole gorgeous pic- ture into modern equivalents, to translate every sign and symbol into a literal fact. Some have thought that prophets were insane. They were always rational enough in their own ways. It has been the interpret- ers and commentators who have gone crazy. The at- tempt of men to work up the Song of Solomon into church-going apparel is folly past all conceit. Spelling Hebrew words with Enghsh letters is not translation. Solomon's Song, in our modern exposition, would have put Solomon and all his court into amazement. Who can reproduce the opalesque visions of Ezekiel and Hosea in the lustreless language of modern days ? If men were to attempt with brick and mortar to build a picture of the auroral lights, it would scarcely be more absurd than the attempt to find modern equivalents for every part of the sublime Apocalypse of St. John. Let every nation think in its own language. Let every period have its own method of inspiration. As we do not attempt to build over again Egyptian temples in 124 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. American cities, new pyramids on our prairies, but allow those sublime memorials to remain where they belong, symbols of the thought of ages ago, so we are to let the old prophets stand in their solitary gran- deur. Like the prophets of earlier days, Jesus fasted long, and, shutting out external scenes, except such as be- longed to the most solitary phases of nature, he rose at length to the vision state ; for as in oratorios the overture foreshadows in brief the controlling spirit and action of the whole performance, so in the three trial points which close the Temptation there would seem to be a foreshadowing of the trials which through his whole career would beset Jesus in the use of Di- vine power. It is impossible for us to strive too earnestly to gain some idea of this mystery. Yet, with all our powers of sympathy and imagination, we cannot enter vividly into the condition of a pure being, come into the world from the bo,?om of God to take the place of a subject and of suffering man. He was " plagued as others are "; he was poor and dependent on friends for very bread, and yet was conscious of carrying within himself a power by which the whole world should fly to serve him ; he was in disgrace, the pity of the ignorant and the scorn of the great, and yet held in his hand that authority by which, at a word, the very stars should praise him, and his brightness outshine the utmost pomp of kings ; he was counted with servants, and yet conscious of infinite dignity; he Avas hated, hunted, persecuted, even unto death, — a death, too, which then suggested turpitude and ignominy, — and yet possessed, unused, a power which made him supe- TUE TEMPTATION. 125 rior to all and more powerful than all. Such experi- ences might well require beforehand that training and divine instruction by which the Captain of our salva- tion was to be made perfect Weary with watching, and spent with hunger, he beholds the Adversary approach. " If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread." This scene will be desecrated if we cannot rise above the gross materialism of the Latin Church. Contrast the awful simplicity of Christ's teachings respecting evil spirits with the grotesque and hideous representa- tions of the mediaeval ages. The Romans, it is proba- ble, derived this taint of the imagination from the old Tuscans, to whom, if we may judge from what remains of their arts, the future was a paradise of horrors.^ ' " The predominating feature of the Etruscan nation, a feature ■which had been the result of a natural disposition, and principally of a sacerdotal system very skilfully combined, was a gloomy and cruel superstition. The science of the aruspices and the discipline of the augurs Avere, as is well known, of Etruscan invention ; it was from Etruria that this kind of super- stition, reduced to a system carefully drawn up, was imported at an early period into Rome, where it became the religion of the state, and, as such, intolerant and absolute ; while in Greece ideas originally similar, but re- moved at an early period from the exclusive dominion of the priests, exer- cised through the means of oracles and great national festivities, which con- tinually placed the people in movement and the citizens in connection one with the other, — exercised, I say, no other influence and acquired no other authority than that of popular legends and traditions. With this feature of the national character in ancient Etruria, a feature which emanates from a primitive disposition, strengthened by the sacerdotal system, we shall soon see how strongly impressed are all the monuments of this people. Hence the human sacrifices which were for a long time in use there. Hence the blood-stained combats of gladiators, which were also of Etruscan origin, and which, after having been for a long time a game among that people, became a passion among the Romans. Hence, in fine, the terrible images made to inspire terror which are so frequently produced on the monuments of this people, — the larva;, the phantoms, the monsters of all kinds, the Scyl- lae, the Medusa, the Furies with hideous features, and Divine justice under 126 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. This sensuousness of imagination and cruel conception of the future passed into the Koman Christian Church. The sublime conception of the Evil One as an intelli- gent prince, who would organize the world for selfish pleasure, and who perpetually strives to bring down spirit to matter and life to mere sense, the everlast- ing antagonist of the God of love and of pure spirit, gives place in the Roman theology to those monstrous images which have but the single attribute of hideous and brutal cruelty. That fatal taint has corrupted the popular idea of Satan to this day. He is not a mighty spirit, but a sooty monster, an infernal vam- pire, a heathen Gorgon. The figures of the Scrip- ture, which in their place are not misleading, the serpent and the lion, (figures emj^loyed by Jesus to inculcate qualities becoming even in Christians,) joined to the herd of bestial images with which heathenism — the heathenism of a degraded Christianity — has filled the world, lapse into excessive grossness and vulgarity. Not such was the great Tempter of the wilderness. He might well have risen upon the Saviour's sight as fair as when, after a stormy night, the morning star dawns from the east upon the mariner, — " an angel of light." To suppose that there could be any temp- tation experienced by Jesus at the solicitation of such a Devil as has been pictured by the imagina- tions of monks, is to degrade him to the level of the lowest natures. In this ecstatic vision we may sup- avenging forms ; while in Greece milder manners, cultivated by a more humane religion, represented death under agreeable, smiling, and almost voluptuous images." — Raoul Rocbette, Lectures on Ancient Art, translated from the French, (London, 1854,) pp. 54, 55. THE TEMPTATION. 127 pose that there arose upon the Saviour's imagination the grandest conception of reason and of wisdom. It was not meant to seem a temptation, but only a rational persuasion. It was the Spirit of this World soliciting Jesus to emj)loy that Divine power which now began to effulge in him, for secular and j)hjsical, rather than for moral and spiritual ends. It was, if one might so say, the whole selfish spirit of time and history pleading that Jesus should work upon matter and for the flesh, rather than ujDon the soul and for the spirit. "If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread." K this scene were historic in the sense of an ordi- nary personal history, how slight to a divine nature would be the temptation of eating bread, and how harmless the act solicited! For if it is right that man should employ his faculties in rearing harvests to sujoply necessary food, would it be wrong for the Son of Man to employ his power in procuring the needed bread ? But as a vision of prophetic ecstasy, in which bread is the sjrmbol of physical life, the temptation is genu- ine and vital. "Draw from its sheath the power of thine omnipotence, if thou be the Son of God. Come forth from the wilderness as the patron of physical thrift. Teach men inventions. Multiply harvests. Cover the world with industry and wealth. Nourish commerce. Let villages grow to cities. Let harbors swarm with ships. How glorious shalt thou be, how will men follow thee and all the world be subdued to thy empire, if thou wilt command the very stones to become bread ! K such power as thou surely hast shall inspire even 128 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TEE CHRIST. the dead rocks with nourishment, Nature, through all her realm, will feel the new life, and seed and fruit, vine and tree, will give forth a glorious abundance, and the wilderness shall blossom as the rose." This temptation, interpreted from the side of pro- phetic symbolism, struck the very key-note. Shall Jesus be simply a civilizer, or shall he come to develop a new soul-life ? Is it to give new force to matter, or to break throuorh matter and raise the human soul to the light and joy of the great spiritual sphere beyond ? He came from the spirit-land to guide the innermost soul of man, through matter, to victory over it. The reply, " It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God," is the precise counterpart and repul- sion of the perverting suggestion of Satan. " Men do not need that to be strengthened in them which is already too strong. Not silver and gold, nor wine and oil, nor cities and kingdoms great in riches, will raise my brethren to a higher manhood. My new food they need, but that food is spirit-life. The word of love, the word of mercy, the word of justice and holiness, issuing from God, — on these the inner life of man must feed." Was not this single temptation a glass in which he saw the whole throng of temptations that would meet him at every turn, namely, of absolute power used for immediate and personal convenience ? We do not enough consider what a perpetual self-denial would be required to carry omnipotence, unused and powerless, amidst the urgent requirements of a life vehemently pressed with motives of self-indulgence in its myriad minor forms. THE TEMPTATION. 129 The vision passed; but another rose in its place. Since he would not employ physical power for physical results, since men were not to be led through their physical wants, but through their spiritual nature, Jesus was next solicited to let the spirit of admi- ration and praise be the genius of the new move- ment. And now the vision took form. There stood the Temj)le, and from the peak of the roof on the court of Solomon, the plunge downward, over the cliff, to the deep valley below, was fearful. But won- derful indeed would it be if one casting himself down thither, in the sight of priests and people, should be buoyed up by invisible hands, and, bird-like, move through the air unharmed. " If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself do"\vn from hence ; for it is written, He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee; And in their hands they shall bear thee up, Lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone." This symbol, as a trial scene, contains not only an appeal to the love of praise in Jesus, but an appeal to the principle of admiration in the multitude. If he would have a jorosperous following and an easy vic- tory over the world, let him become the master of marvels. Let him show men that a Divinity was among them, not by the inspiration of a higher life in their souls, but by such a use of Divine power as should captivate the fancy of all who saw the won- ders of skill, of beauty, of power and daring, which he should show. Still more, let him employ his Divine power to shield his heart from the contempt of in- feriors who were outwardly to be his masters. He was to be a servant, when he knew that he was Lord ; 130 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. he was to have not where to lay his head, — birds and foxes having more rights than he. He was to be surrounded mth spies, and pointed at as a Jew with- out love of country, as conniving with Rome and undermining the Temple. In every way, his outward inferiority was to be sharply brought home to him, and that instinctive desire of all right souls, to be held in esteem, was to be j)ainfully excited. One flash of his will, and scoffs would become hosannas. Let him employ Divine power for the production of pleasure and surprise and brilliant applause, and men would honor him, and save him from that under- valuing contempt which the spirit of the Temple (on which in vision he stood) was yet erelong to pour upon him. In a parallel way, the apparition from the mountain- top, of all the glory of the nations, as a literal fact was impossible except by a miracle. And though a miracle is a fact wholly within the bounds of reason, yet we are not needlessly to convert common events into miracles. There is no such mountain, nor on a round globe can be. Besides, as a direct persuasion to worship Satan, it would be worse than feeble, it would be puerile. Far othenvise would it seem in a prophetic vision, where, as a symbol, it was to the real truth what letters and sentences are to the mean- ing which they express. The impression produced outruns the natural force of the symbol. There was a tremendous temptation to exhibit be- fore men his real place and authority; to appear as great as he really was ; to so use his energies that men should admit him to be greater than generals, higher than kings, more glorious than Temple or Palace. In THE TEMPTATION. 131 that mountain vision he saw the line of temptations which would beat in upon the principle of self-esteem, that source and fountain of ambition among men. In all three of these final outbursts we see a prophetic representation of temptations addressed to his public and ministerial course. They related to that mat- ter of transcendent importance, the carriage and uses of absolute power. He was in danger of breaking through the part which he had undertaken. He must keep the level of humanity, not in moral character alone, but in the whole handling of his Divinity. Men have argued that Christ did not manifest Divine power ; forgetting that it was to lay aside his govern- ing power, and to humble himself as a man, that he came into the world. With men, the difficulty is to rise into eminence. With Jesus, the very reverse was true. To keep upon the level of humanity was his task, and to rise into a common and familiar use of absolute power was his danger. This view is not exhaustively satisfactory. No view is. Whichever theory one takes in explaining the Temptation, he must take it with its painful perplex- ities. That which is important to any proj)er con- sideration of the obscure sublimity of this mystery is, that it shall be a temptation of the Devil as an actual personal spirit; that it shall be a real temp- tation, or one that put the faculties of Christ's soul to task, and required a resistance of his whole nature, as other temptations do of human nature. It is on this account that we have regarded the Temptation as of two parts or series, — the first, a jjersonal and private conflict running through forty solitary days of fasting in the wilderness ; and the second, a min- 132 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. isterial trial, represented by the symbolism of the bread, the Temple, and the mountain-top. It is not because we think the literal history open to many of the objections urged that we prefer the theory of a symbolic vision. The difficulty sometimes alleged, that the Scripture narrative clothes Satan with transcendent power, is not a valid objection, unless the whole spirit of the New Testament on this point be false and misleading. He is a prince of power. Neither is it an objection that Christ seemed to submit to his dictation. For Jesus had humbled himself; he had put himself under the dominion of natural law, of civil rulers, of ecclesiastical require- ments ; and why should we hesitate to accept this experience of the domineering arm of the Tempter? Nor should we hesitate, if they were all, at the feeble questions, " How could he be conveyed to the Temple's summit?" and, "How would it be possi- ble from any mountain-top to see the whole world, or any considerable part of it?" If the temptation in such a literal manner was needful and appropri- ate, there can be no doubt that there was miraculous power to produce its conditions. But we disincline to the literal because it renders Satan a wretched, puerile creature, shallow, flippant, and contemptible. It makes it impossible that Christ should have been tempted. Such bald suggestions would scarcely have power to move a child. They would be to Christ what a fool's bauble would be to a statesman like Cecil, what a court jester's frib- bles would have been to Bacon or to Sully. The very possibility of tempting such a one as Jesus re- quires that Satan should be a person of some gran- THE TEMPTATION. 133 deiir of nature, one whose suggestions should indicate a knowledge of the springs of the human heart, and some wisdom in actmg upon them. The practical benefit of this mysterious and obscure passage in the life of Jesus does not depend upon our ability to reduce it by. analysis to some equiv- alent in human experience. It is enough that the fact stands clear, that he who was henceforth to be the spiritual leader of the race came to his power among men by means of trial and suffering. The experience of loneliness, of hunger, and of weariness for forty days, of inward strife against selfishness, pride, and the glittering falsities of vanity, brought him into sympathy with the trials through which must pass every man who seeks to rise out of animal con- ditions into a true manhood. Suffering has slain myr- iads ; yet, of all who have reached a true moral great- ness, not one but has been nourished by suffering. Perfection and suffering seem, in this sphere, insep- arably joined as effect and cause. Here too, in this strange retirement, we behold the New Man refusing the inferior weapons of common secular life, determined to conquer by " things that are not," by the "invincible might of weakness," by ^/ the uplifting force of humility, by the secret energy of disinterested love, and by that sublime insight. Faith, not altogether unkno'wn before, but which thereafter was to become the great spiritual force of history. 134 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. CHAPTER VII. JESUS, HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. No man will ever succeed in so reproducing an age long past that it shall seem to the beholder as it did to those who lived in it. Even if one is in possession of all the facts, and has skill to draw a perfect picture, he cannot prevent our looking upon a past age with modern eyes, and with feelings and associations that will put into the picture the coloring of our own time. But we can approach the times and spirit of Roman hfe, or of life in Athens in the days of Socrates, far more readily and easily than we can the Jewish life in the time of Christ. He was of the Shemitic race ; we are of the Japhetic. The orderliness of our thought, the regulated perceptions, the logical ar- rangements, the rigorous subordination of feeling to volition, the supremacy of reason over sentiment and imagination, which characterize our day, make it al- most impossible for us to be in full sympathy with people who had little genius for abstractions, and whose thought moved in such association with feeling and imagination that to the methodical man of the West much of Oriental literature which is most esteemed in its home seems like a glittering dream or a gorgeous fantasy. But the attempt to reproduce the person and mind of Jesus, aside from the transcendent elevation of the 1. EAJILIKST KNOWN, F!lO^[ CATACOMBS OF ST, CALIXTUS. 2. FROM KMERALD INTAGLIO OF FMPEIlOll TIEEUIUS. 4. AFTEll ALRllECIIT DUUEI! 5. AFTER PAUL DE LA ROCHE. EIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 135 subject, meets with a serious obstacle in our uncon- scious preconceptions. We cannot see him in GaUlee, nor in Judsea, just as he was. "We look back upon him through a blaze of light. The utmost care will not wholly prevent our beholding Jesus through the medimn of subsequent history. It is not the Jesus who suffered in Palestine that we behold, but the Christ that has since filled the world with his name. It is difficult to put back into the simple mechanic citizen Him whom ages have exalted to Divinity. Even if we could strain out the color of history, we could not stop the beatings of the heart, nor disenchant the imagination, nor forget those personal struggles and deep experiences which have connected our lives in so strange a manner with his. We cannot lay aside our faith like a garment, nor change at will our yearning and affection for Christ, so as not to see him in the light of our own hearts. His very name is a love-name, and kindles in tender and grateful natures a kind of poetry of feeling. As at evening we see the sun through an atmosphere which the sun itself has filled with' vapor, and by which its color and dimensions are changed to the eye, so we see in Jesus the qualities which he has inspired in us. Such a state of mind inclines one to devotion, rather than to philosophical accuracy. The exalted idea which we hold of Jesus, and our implicit and rev- erential view of his Divinity, still tend, as they have tended hitherto, to give an ideal color to his person and to his actual appearance among men in the times in which he lived. It is unconsciously assumed that the inward Divinity manifested itself in his form and mien. We see liim in imagination, not as they saw 136 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TEE CHRIST. him who companied with him from the beginning, but under the dazzhng reflection of two thousand years of adoration. To men of his own times he was simply a citizen. He came to earth to be a man, and succeeded so perfectly that he seemed to his own age and to his followers to be only a man. That he was remarkable for purity and for power of an extraordinary kind, that he was a great prophet, and lived in the enjoyment of peculiar favor with God, and in the exercise of pre- rogatives not vouchsafed to mere men, was fully ad- mitted ; but until after his resurrection, none even of his disciples, and still less any in the circle beyond, seem to have held that view of his person which we are prone to form when in imagination we go back to Palestine, carrying with us the ideas, the pictures, the worship, which long years of training have bred in us. There is one conversation recorded which bears directly on this very point, namely, the impression which Jesus made upon his own time and country- men. It was near the end of his first year of min- istry. He was in the neighborhood of Cassarea Phi- lippi, north of Galilee, where he had been engaged in wayside prayer with his disciples. By combining the narratives in the synoptic Gospels we have the following striking conversation. "Whom do men say that I, the Son of Man, am?" And the disciples answered and said : " Some say that thou art John the Baptist ; but some say Elijah, and others say Jeremiah, or that one of the old proph- ets is risen again." And Jesus saith unto them: "But whom say ye that I am?" HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 13 7 Simon Peter ansAvered and said unto him: "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." This, it is true, is an explicit avowal of the speak- er's belief that Jesus was the Messiah. But how im- perfect the reigning expectation of even the most intelligent Jews must have been, in regard to that long-expected personage, need not be set forth. That the disciples themselves had but the most vague and unsatisfying notion is shown, not alone by their whole career until after the Lord's ascension, but by the instruction which Jesus proceeded to give them in immediate connection with this con- versation. He began to make known to them what should befall him at Jerusalem, his sufferings, his death and resurrection ; whereat Peter rebuked him, and was himself reproved for the. unworthiness of his conceptions. There is absolutely nothing to determine the per- sonal appearance of Jesus. Some ideas of his bear- ing, and many of his habits, may be gathered from incidental elements recorded in the Gospels. But to his form, his height, the character of his face, or of any single feature of it, there is not the slightest al- lusion. Had Jesus lived in Greece, we should have had a very close portraiture of his person and counte- nance. Of the great men of Greece — of Socrates, of Demosthenes, of Pericles, and of many others — we have more or less accurate details of personal appear- ance. Coins and statues reveal the features of the Roman contemporaries of Jesus; but of Him, the one historic personage of whose form and face the whole world most desires some knowledge, there is not a trace or a hint. The disciples were neither literary 138 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. nor artistic men. It is doubtful whether the genius of the race to which they belonged ever inclined them to personal descriptions or delineations. The religion and the patriotism of the Greek incited him to fill his temples with statues of gods, and with the busts of heroes and of patriots. The Greek artist was scrupulously trained to the study of the human form, with special reference to its representation in art. But the Jew was forbidden to make any image or likeness or symbol of Divinity. The jorohibition, though primarily confined to Deity, could not but affect the whole education in art; and it is not sur- prising that there was no Jewish art, — that paintings and statues were unknown, — that Solomon's Temple was the single specimen of pure Jewish architecture of which there is any history. Probably even that was Phoenician, or^ as some think, Persian. But when men have not formed the habit of rep- resenting external things from an artistic point of view, they do not observe them closely. We cannot, therefore, wonder that there is nothing which was at any time said by the common people, or by their teachers and rulers, and that nothing fell out upon his trial, among Roman spectators, and nothing in the subsequent history, which throws a ray of light upon the personal appearance of Jesus of Nazareth. We know not whether he was of moderate height or tall, whether his hair was dark or light, whether his eyes were blue, or gray, or piercing black. We have no hint of mouth or brow, of j)Osture, gesture, or of those personal peculiarities which give to every man his individual look. All is blank, although four separate accounts of him were written within fifty HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 139 years of his earthly hfe. He is to us a personal power without a form, a name of wonder without por- traiture. It is true that there is a conventional head of Christ, which has come down to us through the schools of art, but it is of no direct historic value. The early Fathers were divided in opinion, whether our Lord had that dignity and beauty which became so exalted a person, or whether he was uncomely and insignificant in appearance. Both views appealed to the j^TOphecies of the Old Testament respecting the Messiah: "Thou art fairer than the children of men ; grace is poured into thy lips ; therefore God hath blessed thee forever. Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, 0 most Mighty, with thy glory and thy ma- jesty." (Psalm xlv. 2, 3.) On the other hand : " Who hath believed our re- port ? And to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ? For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground; he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him." (Isaiah hii. 1, 2.) As men adhered to the one or the other of these and like passages, they formed their theory of Christ's personal appearance. During the persecutions of the second and third centuries, the poor and despised Christian found it pleasant to believe that his Master was, though very God, yet as insignificant outwardly, and as wretched, as the most vulgar of his disciples. But when Christianity began to triumph, and to hold the scej)tre of government, it was very natural that its votaries should desire to give to its founder a more regal aspect. St. Jerome inveighed against 140 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. the earlier view, contending that, had our Lord not carried a truly Divine countenance, his disciples would not so implicitly have obeyed and followed him at his first call. It was not far, probably, from the begin- ning of the fourth century that the famous letter was forged, purporting to have been written by Publius Lentulus, a friend of Pilate, and a contem- porary of Jesus, of which we shall soon speak. Portraits of Christ began to appear about the same time, each one having a legend which carried it back to the original; and by the sixth century every prin- cipal city and Christian community had some image, picture, cameo, or other representation of Christ, of which hardly any two were alike. The absurdity became so offensive that the Seventh General Coun- cil, held in Constantinople in 754, condemned all pic- tures whatsoever which pretended to have come direct from Christ or his Apostles.^ Such a letter as the fictitious epistle of Publius Lentulus, had one been written by a Greek or Roman contemporary of the Lord, would be of un- speakable interest. But, aside from the rare beauty of its description, this famous letter is of interest only as showing what were the received opinions of Christians in the fourth century respecting our Lord's personal appearance. We append the letter.^ ^ An excellent summary of tlie history of the ideas concernino; our Lord's appearance may be found in the Introduction to the first volume of the Life of our Lord as exemplified in Works of Art, &c., &c., begun by Mrs. Jameson, and continued by Lady Eastlakc. * " In this time appeared a man, who lives till now, — a man endowed with great powers. Men call him a great prophet ; his own disciples term him the Son of God. His name is Jesus Christ. He restores the dead to life, and cures the sick of all manner of diseases. " This man is of noble and well-proportioned stature, with a flicc full of HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 141 Altlioiigli the sacred Scriptures furnish not a single hint of his mien, and although the negative evidence is strong that there was nothing remarkable in his coim- tenance on ordinary occasions, it is not improbable that his disciples, as they everywhere narrated the principal events of his life, would be inquired of as to their Master's looks. Nor is it unlikely that they recalled what they could of his countenance, for the gratification of a curiosity inspired by love and rever- ence. The letter of Publius Lentulus may therefore be supposed to give a clear view of the countenance which art had already adopted, and which afterward served virtually as the type of all the heads of Christ by the great Italian masters, and by almost all mod- ern artists. It is not a little remarkable that this typical head of Christ is not a Jewish head. The first portraits of Christ were made by Greek artists, in the degenerate days of Grecian art. They could hardly helj) bringing unconsciously to their work the kindness and yet firmness, so that tlie beliolders botli love liim and fear liim. His hair is the color of wine, and golden at the root, — straight, and without lustre, — but from the level of the ears curling and glossy, and di- vided down the centre after the fashion of the Nazarenes (i. e. Nazarites). His forehead is even and smooth, his face without blemish, and enhanced by a tempered bloom. His countenance ingenuous and kind. Nose and mouth are in no way faulty. His beard is full, of the same color as his hair, and forked in form ; his eyes blue, and extremely brilliant. " In reproof and rebuke he is formidable ; in exhortation and teaching, gentle and amiable of tongue. None have seen him to laugh ; but many, on the contrary, to weep. His person is tall; his hands beautiful and straight. In speaking he is deliberate and grave, and little given to lo- quacity. In beauty surpassing most men." There is another description of Jesus found in the writings of St. John of Damascus, who lived in the eighth centuiy, and which is taken, without doubt, from earlier writers. He says that " Jesus was of stately growth, with eye- brows that joined together, beautiful eyes, curly hair, in the prime of life, with black beard, and with a yellow complexion and long fingers like his mother." 142 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. feelings and ideas inspired by the splendid represen- tations which had been made, by the renowned ar- tists of their country, of the figures and heads of the mythologic deities, and especially of Zeus, — to them not only the chief of gods, but the highest reahza- tion of majesty and authority. But now is to be seen the modifying influence of the Christian ideas in respect to the expression of Divinity. The Christian artists all attempted to ex- press in our Lord's face a feeling of spiritual eleva- tion and of sympathy, which was wholly unknown to classic Grecian art. Although there is in the early heads of Christ the form of a Greek ideal philoso- pher's face, or of a god's, the sentiment which it ex- presses removes it from the sphere of Greek ideas. Still less is the historic art-head of Christ of the Roman type. The round Roman head, the hard lines of fiice, the harsh energy of expression, form a strik- ing contrast with the gentle, thoughtful, sympathetic countenance which comes down to us from the fourth century. As Christ spiritually united in himself all nationalities, so in art his head has a certain uni- versality. All races find in it something of their race features. The head of Christ, as it comes to us from the great Italian masters, is to art what the heart of Christ has been to the human race. But how unsatisfying is all art, even in its noblest achievements, when by the presentation of a human face it undertakes to meet the conceptions which we • have of the glory of Divinity! When art sets itself to represent a Divine face in Christ, it aims not only at that which is intrinsically impossible, but at an unhistorical fact. It was not to show his royalty HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 143 that Christ came into the world. He took upon him- self the form of a man. He looked like a man. He lived and acted as a man. The very miracles which he wrought served to show, by contrast, the profound agreement of his general life with the great lower realm of nature into which he had descended. The attempt to kindle his face to such ethereal glow that it shall seem lost in light, must carry the artist away from the distinctive fact of the life of Jesus. He was not a man striving to rise to the Deity. He was God in the flesh, seeking to restrain his Divinity within such bounds as should identify him with his brethren, and keep him within the range of their personal sympathy. No one view of the head of Jesus can satisfy the desires of a devout spectator. It is impossible for art to combine majesty and meekness, suflering and joy, indignation and love, sternness and tenderness, grief and triumph, in the same face at one time. Yet some special representations may come much nearer to satisfying us than others. The Christ of Michael Angelo, in his renowned picture of the Last Judgment, is repulsive. The head and ftxce of Christ by Leonardo da Vinci, in the Last Supper, even in its present wasted condition, produces an impression upon a sensitive nature which it will never forget, nor wish to forget. But few of all the representations of Christ which have become famous in art are at all helpful, either in bringing us toward any adequate conception of the facts of history, or in giving help to our devout feelings by furnishing them an out- ward expression. The great crowd of pictorial eflbrts neither aid devotion, represent history, nor dignify 144 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. art Made without reverence, as professional exer- cises, they lower the tone of our thoughts and mis- lead our imagination. Taking all time together, it may well be doubted whether religion has not lost more than it has gained by the pictorial represen- tation of Jesus. The old Hebrew example was far grander. The Hebrew taught men spirituality, when he forbade art to paint or to carve an image of the formless Deity ; and although Jesus of Nazareth was "God manifest in the flesh," and in so far not to be reckoned rigidly as within the old Hebrew rule, yet even in this case art can touch only the humiliation of Divinity, and not its glory. We could aiford to lose the physical portraiture of Jesus, if in its stead we could obtain such an idea of his personal bearing and carriage as should place him before our eyes with that impressive individuality which he must have had in the sight of his contempo- raries. Fortunately there are glimjoses of his j^er- sonal bearing. As soon as men cease to divide the life of Christ, and apportion one part to the man and the other to the God, as soon as they accept his whole life and being in its imity, — God manifest in the flesh, — events become more significant. They are not the actions of a human soul in some strange connection with a Divine nature ; they are the out- working of the Divine nature placed in human circum- stances. Their value, as interpreters of the Divine feelings, dispositions, and will, is thus manifestly augmented. Every system, whether of philosophy or of re- ligion, that was ever propounded, before Christianity, might be received without any knowledge, in the dis- HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. I45 ciple, of the person of its teacher. The Parsee and the Buddhist beheve in a system more than in a person. What Plato taught is more important than what Plato himself was. One may accept all of Soc- rates's teaching without caring for Socrates himself. Even Paul's development of Christian ideas does not require that one should accept Paul. Not so Christianity. Christianity is faith in Christ. The vital union of our souls with his was the sum of his teaching, the means by which our nature was to be carried up to God's ; and all other doctrines were auxiliary to this union, or a guide to the life which should spring from it. To live in him, to have him dwelling in us, to lose our personal identity in his, and to have it return to us purified and ennobled, — this is the very marrow of his teaching. " I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one." The Apostle summarized Christianity as " Christ in ?/on, the hope of glory." The very genius of Christianity, then, requires a distinct conception, not of Christ's person, but of his personality. This may account for the structure of the Gospels. They are neither journals nor itinera- ries ; still less are they orderly expositions of doc- trine. The Gospels are the collective reminiscences of Christ by the most impressible of his disciples. Their memories would retain the most characteristic transactions which took place during their intercourse with the Master, while mere incidental things, the prosaic and unpictorial portions of his life, would fade out. We find, therefore, as might be expected, in all the Gospels, pictures of Christ which represent the social and spiritual elements of his life, rather 10 146 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. than the corporeal. If these biographies be compared with the physical portraiture of heroes and gods which classic literature has furnished, the contrast will be striking. The Gospels give a portrait, not of attitudes or of features, but of the disposition and of the soul. Most men, it may be suspected, think of Jesus as one above the ordinary level of human existence, looking pitifully down upon the gay and innocent pursuits of common hfe, — abstract, ethereal, wise, and good, but living apart from men, and descend- ing to their level only to give them rebuke or in- struction. But we shall miss the free companionship of Christ, if we thus put him out of the flimihar sympathies of every-day hfe. He was not a pulseless being, feeding on meditations, but a man in every honorable trait of manhood, and participating in the whole range of industries, trials, joys, sorrows, and tempta- tions of human kind. During at least twenty years of his life, if we subtract his childhood, he was a common laborer. There are incidental evidences that he did not attract attention to himself more than any other mechanic. Whatever experience hard-laboring men pass through, of toil poorly requited, of insig- nificance in the sight of the rich and the powerful, of poverty with its cutting bonds and its hard limita- tions, Jesus had proved through many patient years. And when he began his ministry, he did not stand aloof like an ambassador from a foreign court, watch- ing the development of citizen manners as a mere spectator. He entered into the society of his times, and was an integral part of it. He belonged to the HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. I47 nation, was reared under its laws and customs, par- took of its liabilities, had the ardor of elevated patri- otism, and performed all the appropriate duties of a citizen. John says, "He dwelt among us." And yet it is difficult to conceive of him as spe- cialized, either to any nation or to any class or pro- fession. He was universal. Although he had the sanctity of the priest, he was more than priest. Though he had a philosopher's wisdom, he had a royal sympathy with all of human life, quite foreign to the philosophic temper. He was more than a prophet, more than a Jew. He touched human life on every side, though chiefly in its spiritual ele- ments. He moved alike among men of every kind, and was at home with each. Among the poor he was as if poor, among the rich as if bred to wealth. Among children he was a familiar companion ; among doctors of theology an unmatched disj)utant. Sympa- thy, Versatility, and Universality are the terms which may with justice be applied to him. He loved active society, and yet he was fond of solitude ; he loved assemblies \ he loved wayside con- versations with all sorts of men and women. To-day he roamed the highway, living upon the alms of lov- ing friends, and sleeping at night where he chanced to find a bed; to-morrow we shall find him at the feasts of rich men, both courted and feared. That he did not sit at the table a mere spectator of social joy is plain from the fact which he himself mentions, that by his participation in feasts he brought upon himself the reputation of being a reveller! (Matthew xi. 19.) The "beginning of miracles" at Cana was one which was designed to prolong the festivities of 148 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. a marriage feast. There is not the record of a single reprehension of social festivity, not a severe speech, not a disapproving sentence uttered against the pur- suits and enjoyments of common life. He was neither an Ascetic nor a Stoic. The feasts of which he jDar- took, and which so often form the basis of his para- bles, glowed with the warmth and color of innocent enjoyment. It is plain, both that he loved to see men happy, and that he was himself, in his ordinary moods, both genial and cheerful, or he could not have glided so harmoniously from day to day into the domestic and business life of his countrymen. It was only in their public relations, and upon ques- tions of morality and spirituality, that he ever came into earnest collision with men. It should be noticed, also, that there was a peculiar kindness in his bearing which drew him close to men's persons, — the natural language of affection and sympathy. He touched the eyes of the blind; he put his finger in the ears of the deaf; he laid his hands upon the sick. The incidental phrases, almost unnoticed in the Gospels, show this yearning per- sonal fiimiliarity with men: "And he could there do no mighty work, save that he laid his hand tijwn a few sick folk and healed them." ^ " Now when the sun was setthig, all they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them unto him; and he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed them."^ "He called her to him, .... and he laid his hands on her : and immediately she was made straight."^ The whole narrative of the blind man given by Mark (viii. 22-25) is full of this tender and nursing 'Markvi. 5. = Luke i v. 40. » Luke xiii. 12, 13. HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 149 personal intercourse : " And he cometh to Bethsaida ; and they bring a bhnd man unto him, and besought him to touch him. And he took the bhnd man ht/ the hand and led him out of the town; and when he had spit on his eyes, and jt??;^ his hands upon him, he asked him if he saw aught. And he looked up, and said, I see men as trees walking. After that, he j)ut his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up : and he was restored, and saw every man clearly." When the leper pleaded that he might be healed, " Jesus jt^zf^f forth his hand, and touched him, .... and immediately his leprosy was cleansed." (Matthew viii. 3, 4.) When the centurion asked him to heal his servant, expecting him only to send the word of power to his distant couch, Jesus replied, "I will come and heal him." Peter's mother-in-law being sick, "he took her hfj the hand, and immediately the fever left her." And so the Gospels are full of phrases that imply a manner of great personal fa- miliarity. "And he came and touched the bier: and they that bare him stood still." "And he touched their eyes." "And touched his tongue." "But Jesus took him by the hand, and lifted him up!' In no other place is his loving and caressing man- ner more strikingly set forth than in the account of his reception of little children. "And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them." These are bosom words, full of love-pressure. And in another instance, when enforcing the truth of disinterestedness, it was not enough to illustrate it by mentioning childhood, but "he tooJc a child, and set him in the midst of them : and when he had taken him in his arms, he said unto them. Whosoever shall 150 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. receive one of such children in my name, receiveth me." (Mark ix. 36, 37.) Nor should we fail to notice the interview with Mary, after his resurrection, in the garden. "Touch me not" reveals her spontaneous imjDulse, and casts back a light upon that sacred household life and love which he had prized so much at Bethany. But we are not to sujDpose, because Jesus moved among the common people as a man among men, that he was regarded by his disciples or by the peo- ple as a common man. On the contrary, there was a mysterious awe, as well as a profound curiosity, concerning him. He was manifestly superior to all about him, not in stature nor in conscious authority, but in those qualities which indicate spiritual power and comprehensiveness. His disciples looked upon him both with love and fear. Familiarity and awe alternated. Sometimes they treated him as a com- panion. They expostulated and complained. They disputed his word and rebuked him. At other times they Avhispered among themselves, and dared not even ask him questions. It is plain that Jesus had moods of lofty abstraction. There were hidden depths. The sublimest exhibition of this took place at his trans- figuration on the mount, but glimpses of the same experience seem to have flashed forth from time to time. His nature was not unfluctuating. It had pe- riods of overflow and of subsidence. But these clouded or outshining hours did not pro- duce fear so much as veneration. The general effect upon his disciples of intimacy with him was love. Those who were capable of understanding him best loved him most. Jesus too was a lover, not alone in HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 151 the sense of general benevolence, but in the habit of concentrated affection for particular persons. "Then Jesus, beholding him, loved him." " He whom thou lovcst is sick." "Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus." "Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him." Surely it was not for the first time at the supper following the washing of the disci- ples' feet, that it could be said of John, " He, leaning thus back on Jesus' breast," — for such is the force of the original, in the latest corrected text.^ That must be a loving and demonstrative nature with which such familiarity could be even possible. Mark, more than any other Evangelist, records the power which Christ had in his look. His eye at times seemed to pierce with irresistible power. Only on such a supposition can we account for the dis- may of those sent to arrest him. The crowd came rushing upon him, led on by Judas. Jesus said, " Whom seek ye ? They answered him, Jesus of Naz- areth. Jesus saith unto them, I am he As soon then as he had said unto them I am he, they went backward, and fell to the ground." When Peter had thrice denied him, "The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter." "And Peter went out and wept bitterly." Such cases will serve to ex- plain instances hke that of the healing of the man ' The " leaning on Jesus' bosom," in the twenty-third verse (John xiii.), simply indicates that John, reclining at table according to the custom prev- alent since the captivity, came next below Jesus, and his head would there- fore come near to his Master's breast. But in the twenty-fifth verse a differ- ent action is indicated. The language implies, that, in asking the question about the betrayal, he leaned back so as to i^est his head upon his Lord's bosom. The reading " leaning hack on Jesus' breast," instead of " He then lyhif/ on Jesus' breast," is approved by Tischendorf, Green, Alford, and Tregelles. 152 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. with a withered hand. And he " loo/ced round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts." On another occasion he is thus rep- resented : " Who touched me ? And he looked round about to see her that had done this tiling. But the woman, fearing and trembhng, .... came and fell down before him." It is jDlain, from a comparison of passages, that his gentle and attractive manners, which made him acces- sible to the poor, the outcast, and the despised, were accompanied by an unperial manner which none ever presumed ujDon. Indeed, we have incidental mention of the awe which he inspired, even in those who had the right to intimate familiarity. "And none of the disciples durst ask him. Who art thou? knowing that it was the Lord." All three of the synoptical Gospels mention the effect produced by his bearing and by his answers to vexatious ques- tions. "And after that, they durst not ask liim any question at all." Mark mentions a very striking incident in a man- ner so modest that its significance is likely to escape us. "And they were in the way, going up to Jerusa- lem ; and Jesus went before them ; and they were amazed ; and as they followed, they were afraid. And he took again the twelve, and began to tell them what things should happen unto him." (Mark x. 32.) It seems that he was so absorbed in the contempla- tion of those great events which already overhung him, and toward which he was quickening his steps, that he got before them and walked alone. As they looked upon him, a change came over his person. Once before, on the mountain, some of them HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 153 had been bewildered by his changed look. Yet it was not now an effulgent light, but rather sternness and grandeur, as if his soul by anticipation was in conflict mth the powers of darkness, and his Avhole figure lifted up as in the act of " despising the shame " of the near and ignominious trial. Our Lord's great power as a sjoeaker depended essentially upon the profound truths which he uttered, upon the singular skill with which they were adapted to the peculiar circmnstances which called them forth, and to the faculty which he had of uttering in simple and vernacular phrase the most abstruse ideas. But there was besides all this a singular impressiveness of manner which it is probable was never surpassed. His attitude, the extraordinary influence of his eye, his very silence, were elements of j)ower of which the Evangehsts do not leave us in doubt. There is in Mark's account (x. 23) a use of words that indicates a peculiar, long, and penetrating action of the eye, — a lingering deliberation. "And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples. How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!" When the disciples, amazed with the impressiveness of his word and action, asked, "Who, then, can be saved?" he apparently did not reply instantly, but, with the same long gaze, his eye spoke in advance of his tongue. " Jesus, looJcing upon them, saith. With men it is impossible, but not with God." In the account given by Mark (viii. 33) one can see how large an element of impressiveness was derived from Christ's manner and expression, before he spoke a word. "But when he had turned about, and looked on his disciples, he rebuked Peter, saying, Get thee behmd me, Satan!" 154 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. There were times when Jesus did not employ words at all. Most impressive effects were derived from his manner alone. "And Jesus entered into Jerusa- lem, and into the temple; and when he had looked round about ujoon all things, and now the even-tide was come, he went out unto Bethany." This scene would not have lingered in the mind of the specta- tors, and been recorded in the Gospel, if his air and manner had not been exceedmgly striking. It was a picture that could not fade from the memory of those who had seen it, yet it was a scene of perfect silence ! There is a poor kind of dignity, that never allows itself to be excited, that is guarded agamst all sur- prises, that restrains the expression of sudden interest, that holds on its cold and careful way as if superior to the evanescent moods of common men. Such was not Christ's dignity. No one seemed more a man among men in all the inflections of human moods than did Jesus. With the utmost simplicity he suf- fered the events of life to throw their lights and shadows upon his soul. He was "grieved," he was " angry," he was " surprised," he " marvelled." In short, his soul moved through aU the moods of hu- man experience ; and while he rose to sublime com- munion with God, he was also a man among men; while he rebuked self-indulgence and frivolity, he cheerfully partook of innocent enjoyments; while he denounced the insincerity or burdensome teachings of the Pharisees, he did not separate himself from their society or from their social life, but even ac- cepted their hospitahty, and his dinner discourses contain some of his most pungent teachings. HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 155 We have purjoosely omitted those views of Christ which, through the unfolding process of liis life and teaching, developed at length, in the Apostles' minds, to the full and clear revelation of Divinity. We have sketched him as he must have appeared during his ministry, when men were gazing upon him in won- der, thinking that he was " that prophet," or " Elijah," or that Messiah "that should come." We must not, then, take with us, in following out the life of Jesus, the conception of a formidable being, terrible in holiness. We must clothe him in our imagination with traits that made little children run to him; that made mothers long to have him touch their babes ; that won to him the poor and suf- fering ; that made the rich and influential throw wide open the doors of their houses to him; that brought around him a company of noble women, who trav- elled with him, attended to his wants, and supplied his necessities from their own wealth ; that irresistibly attracted those other women, in whom vice had not yet destroyed all longing for a better life ; that ex- cited among the learned a vehement curiosity of dis- putation, while the unlettered declared that he spake as one having authority. He was the great Master of nature, observing its laws, laying all his plans in consonance with the fixed order of things even in his miracles ; seeming to violate nature, only because he knew that nature is not only and alone that small circle which touches and includes physical matter, but a larger province, enclosing the great spiritual world, including God himself therein. 156 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. CHAPTEK VIII. THE OUTLOOK. "Thixk not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets : I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil." Jesus would reform the world, not by destroy- ing, but by developing the germs of truth already existing. He accepted whatever truth and goodness had ripened through thousands of years. He would join his own work to that already accomplished, bring- ing to view the yet higher truths of the spiritual realm. But the design of all his teaching, whether of morality or of spirituality, was to open the human spirit to the direct influence of the Divine nature. Out of such a union would proceed by spiritual laws and tendencies all that man ne^ds. The reconciliation of the human soul mth the Divine is also the harmonization of the two great spheres, the material and the spiritual. Men will then be no longer under the exclusive dominion of natural law in the plane of matter. They will come under the in- fluence of another and a higher form of natural law, that of the spirit. Nature is not confined to matter. To us it begins there ; but nature includes the earth and the heaven, the visible and the invisible, all mat- ter and all spirit. That portion of natural law which regulates physical things is nearest to our knowl- edge, but is not the typical or universal. As seen THE OUTLOOK. 157 from above, doubtless, it is the lowest form of law. Natm^e is the universe. Nature as men's physical senses discern it is poor and meagre compared with its expansion in the mvisible realm where God dwell- eth. Natural laws run through God's dominion in harmonious subordination, those of the spiritual world having pre-eminence and control. We discern in Jesus the demeanor of one who was conscious of the universe, and who knew that this earthly globe is but its least part, — normal, indeed, and serviceable, but subject, auxiliary, and subordinate to higher elements. He acted as one who recognized the uses of this life, but who by a heavenly experience knew its vast relative inferiority. By no word did Jesus undervalue civil laws, governments, the indus- tries of men, and their accumulated wealth ; yet not a syllable of instruction did he let fall on these topics, nor did 4ie employ them to any considerable degree in his ministry. To us, husbandry, navigation, the per- fection of mechanic arts, and the discovery of hew forces or the invention of new combinations, seem of transcendent importance. Men have asked whether he who threw no light upon physiology, who made known no laws of health and no antidotes or remedies for wasting sicknesses, who left the world as poor in economic resources as he found it, could be Divine. But to one cognizant of the spiritual universe all these things w^ould seem initial, subordinate, and in- ferior ; while the truths of the soul and of the spirit, the science of holiness, would take precedence of all secular wealth and wisdom. Physical elements might be safely left to unfold through that natural law of development which is 158 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. carrying the world steadily forward; but "the spirit is weak." To bring the soul of man into the pres- ence of God, to open his heart to the Divine influ- ence, was a need far greater than that of any sensuous help. We shall find that Jesus differed from ordinary men, not by living above natural laws, but by living in a larger sphere of natural laws. He harmonized in his life the laws of spirit and of matter. In all that pertained to earthly life, he lived just as men hve. In that which pertained to the spirit, he lived with the air and manner of one who came from heaven. In his miracles he but exhibited the su- premacy of the higher over the lower, of the spiritual over the material. A miracle is not the setting aside of a law of nature, it is but the exhibition of the su- premacy of a higher law of nature in a sphere where men have been accustomed to see the operation of the lower natural laws alone. No man is surprised at the obedience of matter to his own will. Our control of our bodies, and, generally, of the organ- ized matter of the globe, increases in the ratio of the growth of our mental strength. Jesus declared that, if the soul were opened up to the Divine pres- ence, this power would be greatly augmented; that man's higher spiritual elements had a natural au- thority over the physical conditions of this world ; and that faith, prayer, divine communion, in a fer- vent state, would enable his followers to perform the miracles that he himself performed. It was this latent power of man's spiritual nature that Christ sought to develop. He strove to lift men one sphere higher, and, without taking them away from the senses, to break open, as it were, and reveal a realm where the THE OUTLOOK. 159 spirit would dominate matter, as in this world matter governs the spirit. It is this supremacy of the spiritual over the physi- cal in the great order of a universe-nature, rather than of the earth-nature, that must be borne in mind, both in Christ's own conduct and in his discourses and his promises to those who truly entered his kingdom ; and that is the rational explanation also of the extraor- dinary phenomena which accompanied the Apostle's preaching. (1 Cor. xii. 4-30.) Christ was a Jew, and did not refuse to love his country, nor was he without enthusiasm for the his- toric elements wrought out so nobly by the great men of the Hebrew nation. And yet no one can fail to perceive that above all these patriotic enthusiasms, and far beyond them, he bore a nature which allied him to universal man without regard to race or j)e- riod, and that his being reached higher than that of common hmnanity, and brooded in the mysterious realms of the spirit land, beyond all human sight or knowledge. We may presume, therefore, that in his ministry there will be found a close adhesion to nature ; that as the Son of Man he will follow the methods of ordi- nary physical nature, while as the Son of God he will conform to the laws of spiritual nature. And it may be presupposed that, to those not instructed, one part of such observance of natural law may seem to conflict with another part, whereas both are alike conformable to nature, if by nature is meant God's uniyerse. When Jesus began his mission in Palestine, it 160 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. swarmed with a population so mixed with foreign elements that it might almost be said to represent ev- ery people of the then civilized world. No great war seemed able to leave Palestine untouched ; whether it was Egypt, or Assyria, or Greece, or Rome that was at war, Palestine was sure to be swept by the inundation. Every retiring wave, too, left behind it a sediment. The physical conformation of the country made the northern part of Palestine a commercial thoroughfare for Eastern and Western nations, while Judaea, lying off from the grand routes, and not favorably situated for commerce, was less traversed by merchants, adventurers, or emigrant hordes. And so it happened that Galilee and Samaria were largely adulterated, while Judoaa maintained the old Jewish stock with but little foreign mixture. The Judaean Jews were proud of this superiority. They looked upon Galilee as half given over to bar- barism. It was styled " Galilee of the Gentiles," since thither had drifted a mixed population in which almost every nation had some representatives. No one would suspect from the dreary and impoverished condition of Palestine to-day how populous it Avas in the time of Christ. The ruins of villages, towns, and cities, which abound both on the east and the west of the Jordan, confirm the explicit testimony of Jose- phus to the extraordinary populousness of Palestine during our Lord's life and ministry. Samaria, the great middle section of Palestine, besides its large infusion of foreigners, had an adulterated home popu- lation. It was on this account that the puritan Jews of Jerusalem and Judcea abhorred the Samaritans, and refused to have any dealings with them. THE OUTLOOK. \Q\ Galilee, the most populous section/ was also tlie most intermixed with pagan elements. The Roman armies, made up largely of Italian officers, but of soldiers drawn from conquered Oriental nations, brought to all the large towns, and left in them, a detritus of the outside world. Already the Greek, a universal rover, the merchant of that age as the Jew has been the trader of subsequent ages, was largely spread through the province. Syria and Phoenicia also con- tributed of their people. Thus, in every part of Pal- estine, north and south, a foreign population swarmed around the Jewish stock without changing it, and without being itself much changed. The inequahty of condition which separated the various classes of Jews was unfavorable to ]3rosperity. While the northern province was given to commerce, the great plain of Esdraelon serving as a roadway be- tween the shores of the Mediterranean and the great Syrian interior and the countries skirting the Lower Jordan and the Dead Sea, yet the bulk of the popu- lation depended for a precarious subsistence upon agriculture and the humbler forms of mechanic art. That affecting petition in the Lord's Prayer, " Give us this day our daily bread," is an historic disclosure of local want, as well as an element of universal devotion. It is the prayer prescribed for men to whom it was said, " Take no [anxious] thought what ye shall eat, what ye shall drink, or wherewithal ye shall be clothed." But commerce had made a portion of the people rich. Extortion had swollen the affluence of others. The greatest injustice prevailed. Small pro- tection was given to the weak. The Jews were a ' The population of Galilee was about three millions. 11 162 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. subject race, but not subdued. Little able to govern themselves, they were still less fitted to be governed by another nation. Their religious training had built up in them a character of great strength. They were proud, fierce, and careless of life to an extraordinary degree, whether it was their own life or that of others. Political subjection was peculiarly irksome, because, as they interpreted their prophets, the Jews were God's favored people. They believed that the family of David, now obscure and dishonored, was yet to hold the sceptre of universal monarchy. They had not only a right to be free, but God had specially promised that they should rule all other nations, if only they kept his statutes. To keep his command- ments was their one excessive anxiety. They scruti- nized every particular, added duty to duty, multiplied and magnified particulars, lest something should be omitted. They gloried in the Law, and devoted them- selves to it night and day with engrossing assiduity. Where, then, was their reward ? Why was not the Di- vine promise kept ? Instead of governing others, they were themselves overwhelmed, subdued, oppressed. Was this the reward for their unexampled fidelity? The Pharisee had kept his blood pure from all taint; not a drop of foreign blood polluted the veins of the Hebrew of the Hebrews. When Hellenism threatened with self-indulgent philosophy to destroy the fiitli of their ftithers, the Pharisees had resisted, overwhelmed, and driven it out. Josephus, himself a Pharisee, says of them : " In their own idea they are the flower of the nation and the most accurate observers of the Law." And yet how had God neglected them ! His conduct was inexplicable and sadly mysterious. It was not THE OUTLOOK. 163 in their power to keep their soil, nor even the holy Temple, from the hated intrusion of the idolater's foot. Their priesthood had been converted to the uses of the detestable Romans. The high-priest, once ven- erated, had become tiie creature of Idumcean Herod. For many hundreds of years before Herod's reign the Jews had seen but one high-priest deposed. But from the conquest of Jerusalem by Herod to its destruc- tion under Titus, a period of one hundred and eight years, twenty-eight high-priests had been nominated, making an average term of but four years to each. Rulers were filled with worldly ambition, and scribes and priests were continually intriguing and quarrelling among themselves. Only so much of the disthictive Jewish economy was left free as could be controlled by unscrupulous politicians for the furtherance of their own selfish ends. Pride and avarice were genuine; benevolence and devotion were simulated or openly disowned. It will be well to consider with some particularity the three forms of religious development which existed in the time of our Lord, — Ritualism, Rationalism, and Asceticism, — as represented respectively by the Phari- see, the Sadducee, and the Essene ; and it will be especially necessary to be acquainted with the Phari- sees, who were our Lord's chief and constant antago- nists, whose habits furnished continual themes for his discourses, and whose malign activity at length was the chief cause of his death. In no such sense as that term conveys to us were the Pharisees an organized sect.^ They represented ^ " It is the custom to contrast the Pharisees with the Sadducees, as if they were two opposite sects existing in the midst of the Jewish nation 164 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. a tendency, and answered nearly to our phrase of " High Church " among the Episcopalians, by which we do not mean a separate organization within that sect, but only a mode or direction of thought and adminis- tration. In their origin and early functions the Pharisees deserved well of their countrymen, and not so ill of posterity as it has fared with them. When the Jews were carried to Babylon, so dependent had they al- ways been upon the Temple and the organized priest- hood, that, in the absence of these, their chief re- ligious supports fell to the ground. The people, left without teachers, exiled, surrounded by idolatrous practices which tempted the passions of men with peculiar fascination, were likely to forget the worship of their fathers, and not only to lapse into idolatry, but by intermarriages to be absorbed and to lose their very nationality. It was therefore a generous and patriotic impulse which inspired many of the more earnestly religious Jews to separate themselves from aU foreign influences, and to keep alive the Jemsh and separated fi-om the body of the Jews. But neither the Sadducees nor the Pharisees were sects in the common acceptation of the word, least of all the latter. Taken at bottom, the nation was for the most part Pharisai- cally minded ; in other words, the Pharisees were only the more important and religiously inclined men of the nation, who gave the most decided expression to the prevailing belief, and strove to establish and enforce it by a definite system of teaching and interpretation of the sacred books. All the priests who were not mere blunt, senseless instruments clung to the Pharisaical belief. All the Sephorim, or Scribes, were at the same time Pharisees; and where they are spoken of side by side as two different classes, by the latter (Pharisees) must be understood those who, without belonging Ijy calling or position to the body of the learned, were yet zealous in setting forth its principles, teachings, and practices, and surpassed others in the example they gave of the most exact observance of the law." — DoUinger's The Gentile and the Jew, (London, 1862,) Vol. II. pp. 304, 305. THE OUTLOOK. 165 spirit among their poor, oppressed countrymen. The name Pharisee, in the Hebrew, signifies one ivlio is sepa- rated. When first apphed, it meant a Jew who, accord- ing to the Levitical Law, in captivity kept himself scru- pulously separate from all defilements. Unfortunately, the Pharisee sought worthy ends by an almost purely external course. In this respect he is in contrast with the English Puritan of the sixteenth century. Both of them were intensely patriotic ; both set themselves vigorously against the seductive refinements and artful blandishments of their times. The English Puritan, with a clear perception of moral truth, and with utter faith in the power of inward and spiritual disposi- tions, was inclined to sacrifice forms, ceremonies, and symbols, as helps liable too easily to become hin- drances, fixing the senses upon an externality, and leading men away from simple spiritual truth. But the early Jewish Puritan had nothing to work with except the old Mosaic Law. He sought to put that be- tween his countrymen and idolatry. By inciting them to reverence and to pride in their own Law he saved them from apostasy, and kept alive in their memories the history of their fathers and the love for their na- tive land. And so far the labor of the Pharisee de- served praise. But the Levitical Law required, in the great change of circumstances induced by the Cap- tivity, a re-adaptation, and, as new exigencies arose, new interpretations. Gradually the Pharisees became expounders of the Law. They grew minute, technical, literal. They sought for religion neither in the imme- diate inspiration of God nor in nature, but in the books of Moses and of the Prophets. They were zealous for tradition and ceremony. The old landmarks were 166 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. sacred to them. Yet they overlaid the simplicity of the ancient Hebrew faith with an enormous mass of pedantic, pragmatical details, that smothered the heart and tormented the conscience of the devotee. Their moral sense was drilled upon mere conventional quali- ties. It had no intuition and no liberty. It became the slave of the senses. Little by little the work grew upon their hands. Cases multiplied. Nice distinctions, exceptions, di- visions, and subdivisions increased with an enormous fecundity. The commentary smothered the text. The interpreters were in thorough earnest ; but their con- science ran to leaf and not to fruit. That befell the Pharisees which sooner or later befalls all ritualists, — they fell into the idolatry of symbolism. The sym- bol erelong absorbs into itself the idea which it was sent to convey. The artificial sign grows fairer to the senses than is the truth to the soul. Like manna, symbols must be gathered fresh every day. The Pharisee could not resist the inevitable tendency. He heaped upon life such a mass of helps and guides, such an endless profusion of minute duties, that no sensitive conscience could endure the thrall. One class of minds went into torment and bondage, of which Paul gives an inimitable picture in the seventh chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. Another class, harder and more self-confident, conceived themselves obedient to the whole round of duty, and became conceited and vaing^lorious The Pharisees were sincere, but sincere in a way that must destroy tenderness, devoutness, and benevo- lence, and that must minister to conceit, hardness of heart, and intolerant arrogance. No religion can THE OUTLOOK. 167 be true, and no worship can be useful, that does not educate the understanding, kindle the aspirations, give to the spiritual part a mastery over the senses, and make man stronger, nobler, freer, and purer than it found him. Religion proves its divinity by augment- ing the power and contents of manhood. If it de- stroys strength under the pretence of regulation, it becomes a superstition and a tyranny. The Pharisees had not escaped the influence of the prevalent philosophies. Although they were w^orking away from the Hellenistic influence, they were indi- rectly moulded by it. It was essentially in the re- fining spirit of Greek philosophy that they interpreted the old Hebrew statutes. Not that they desired them to be less Jewish. They sought to make them more intensely national. The Greek spirit wrought in the Jew to make him more intensely Jewish. But Grecian influence had raised up another school, that of the Sadducees. They were the Epicureans of JudoBa. It is probable that, unlike the Pharisees, the Sadducees recognized the Grecian philosophy, and ap- plied it to the interpretation of the Mosaic statutes. They accepted the chief doctrine of the Epicurean philosophy. They admitted the agency of God in creation. They taught that things had a nature of their own, and that, after being once created and set going, they had need of no Divine interference in the way of providential government. Every man had his fate in his own hands. Having organized the sys- tem of nature, God withdrew himself, leaving men to- their own absolute freedom. Man was his own master- He was the author of his own good and of nis own evil, and both the good and the evil they believed 168 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. to be confined to this life. Death ended the history. There was to be no new life, no resurrection. We are not to suppose that the Sadducees abandoned the Jewish Scriptures for any form of Grecian philoso- phy. They rejected all the modern interpretations and additions of the old Hebrew institutes. They pro- fessed to hold to the literal construction and inter- pretation of the sacred Scri23tures. They rejected all tenets that were not found in Moses and the j)rophets. This principle forced them to assume a negative phi- losophy. They stuck to the letter of the Law, that they might shake off the vast accumulations which it had received at the hands of the Pharisees. But in doing this they rendered themselves infidel to the deepest moral convictions of their age. The spirit of denial is essentially infidel. Belief is indispensable to moral health, even if the tenets believed be artificial. There is no reason to think that the Sadducees had a deep religious life, or any positive convictions which redeemed them from the danger attending a system of negation. They were a priestly class, sceptical of the truths which the best men of their age cherished. Thus, while they were strict in their construction of the text, they were liberal in doctrine. It was through literalism that they sought liberalism. If their refusal of the Pharisaic traditions and glosses had been for the sake of introducing a larger spiritual element, they would have deserved better of their countrymen. As it was, they were not popular. They were not the leaders of the masses, nor the representatives of the popular belief, nor in sympathy with the common people. We can hardly regard them in any other light than that of self-indulgent and ambitious men, THE OUTLOOK. 169 using the national religion rather as a defence against the charge of want of patriotism than from any moral convictions. In short, they were thoroughly worldly, selfish, and unlovely. Although the name " Essene " does not occur in the New Testament, yet the sect existed in the time of Christ, and probably exercised a considerable influence upon the thought of many devout Jews. The Es- senes observed the law of Moses with a rigor surpass- ing that of any of their countrymen. They, however, rejected animal sacrifices. There seems to have been among them an element of worship derived from the Persians. They addressed petitions each morning to the sun. They felt bound to refrain in word or act from anything which could profane that luminary. They kept the Sabbath even more rigorously than the Pharisees. They prepared all their food the day before. Not only would they kindle no fires on the Sabbath, but they would suffer no vessel to be moved from its place, nor would they satisfy on that day any of their natural and necessary desires. They lived in communities, very much apart from general society ; but this does not seem to have arisen so much from an ascetic spirit as from the excessively restrictive notions which they cherished on the matter of legal purity. To the contaminations established by the Mosaic code, and all the additional ceremo- nial impurities Avhich the ritual zeal of the Pharisee rendered imminent, they added others even more se- vere. To touch any one not of his own order defiled an Essene. Even an Essene, if of a lower grade, could not be touched without defilement. Such par- ticularity could scarcely fail to work social seclusion. 170 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. Their meals were strictly sacrificial, and looked upon as religious actions. Every one washed his whole body before eating, and put on a clean linen gar- ment, which was laid aside at the end of the meal. The baker and the cook placed before each his mess, and the priest then blessed the food, before which none dared to taste a morsel. They held their property in common; so that the temporary community of goods by the Christians, after the Pentecostal day, was not a new or uncommon act anion o; the Jews. Marriao;e was forbidden. No buying or selling was permitted among themselves. They disallowed both slavery and war, neither would they suffer any of their sect to forge warlike arms for others. They were under the strictest subordination to their own superiors, and implicit obedience was a prime virtue. They maintained perfect silence in their assemblies and during their repasts. Only adults were taken into the brotherhood, and these were required to undergo a probation of a year, and they then entered but the lowest grade. Two years more were required for full membership. The Essenes abhorred pleasure. They were temperate in all things, — in food, in the indulgence of . their passions, and in en- joyments of every kind. In many respects they seem to have resembled the modern Shakers. The Sadducees, being a priestly and aristocratic class, were not disposed to take any office which would impose trouble or care, and looked with indifference or contempt upon the greater part of that which passed for religion among the people. The Essenes were small in numbers, their habits of life were se- cluded, and they do not seem to have made any effort THE OUTLOOK. 171 at influencing the mind of the people at large. Only the Pharisees took pains to instruct the people. And we shall not understand the atmosphere which sur- rounded our Lord, if we do not take into consideration the kind of teaching given by them, and the national feeling which it had produced. We are not to undervalue the real excellence of the Mosaic institutes on account of the burdensome and frivolous additions made to them during a long series of interpretations and commentaries. The institutes of Moses inculcated a sound morality, a kind and benevolent spirit, obedience to God, and reverence for divine things. But as it was interpreted by ihe Pharisees it disproportionately directed the attention to external acts. The state of the heart was not wholly neglected. Many excellent distinctions were drawn, and wise maxims were given respecting purity of thought and rectitude of motive. But the influ- ence of a system depends, not upon few or many truths scattered up and down in it, but upon the accent and emphasis which is given to its different parts. Paul bears witness that his countrymen had a "zeal of God, but not according to knowledge." Like men in a wrong road, the longer they toiled the farther they were from the end sought. Yet they did not regard themselves as in the wrong. God had given them the Law. The most signal promises followed obedience to that Law. They should over- come all their enemies. They should become the governors of those who now oppressed them. There- fore to that obedience they addressed themselves with all their zeal and conscience. Lest they should fail un- wittingly, it was a maxim with them that they should 172 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. do even more than the Law required. And such was the scrupulosity of the Pharisee, that he came to feel that he did perfectly keep the Law, and therefore wait- ed impatiently for the fulfilment of the Divine prom- ises. It was a distinct bargain. They were all looking and waiting for the Messiah. When he should come, he would give to the nation the long-needed leader. All would unite in him. He would march at the head of the whole population to expel the Romans, to re- deem Jerusalem, to purify the Temple, to extend the sway of the Jewish religion. They brooded over these joyful prospects. Thus, they had their tests of Mes- siahship. He must hate idolaters. He must have the gift of leadership. He must represent the in- tensest spirit of Jewish patriotism. He must aim to make Israel the head and benefactor of all the nations on earth. It is plain that Jesus could not meet such ex- pectations. He must have known from the begin- ning what reception his countrymen would give him, should he at once announce himself as the Messiah; and this will explain his silence, or the guarded pri- vate utterance, in the beginning, as to his nature and claims. Unfavorable as was the religious aspect, the political condition of Palestine was even worse. The nation was in the stage preceding dissolution, — subdued by the Romans, farmed out to court favorites, governed by them with remorseless cruelty and avarice. The fiery and fanatical patriotism of the Jew was continu- ally bursting out into bloody insurrection. Without great leaders, without any consistent and wise plan of operations, these frequent and convulsive spasms of THE OUTLOOK. 2*j3 misery were instantly repressed by the Romans with incredible slaughter. Even if it had been a part of the design of Je- sus to rescue the Jewish nation and perpetuate it, he came too late. These frequent convulsions were the expiring struggles of a doomed people. Already the prophecies hung low over the city. Death was in the very air. The remnant of the people was to be scattered up and down in the earth, as the wind chases autumnal leaves. Jesus stood alone. He was ap- parently but a peasant mechanic. That which was dearest to his heart men cared nothing for ; that which all men were eagerly pursuing was nothing to him. He had no party, he could conciliate no interest. The serpent of hatred was coiled and waiting ; and, though it delayed to strike, the fang was there, ready and venomous, as soon as his foot should tread upon it. The rich were luxurious and self-indulgent. The learned were not wise ; they were vain of an im- mense acquisition of infinitesimal fribbles. The igno- rant people were besotted, the educated class was corrupt, the government was foreign, the Temple was in the hands of factious priests playing a game of worldly ambition. Who was on his side? At what point should he begin his mission, and how? Should he stand in Jerusalem and preach? Should he enter the Temple, and announce to the grand council his true character? It was not the purpose of Jesus to present him- self to the nation with sudden or dramatic outburst. There was to be a gradual unfolding of his claims, of the truth, and of his whole nature. In this respect he 174 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. conformed to the law of that world in which he was infixed, and of that race with whose nature and con- dition he had identified himself. We shall find him, in the beginning, joining his ministry on to that of John : we shall next see him taking up the religious truths of the Old Testament which were common to him and to the people, but cleansing them of their grosser interpretations, and giving to them a spiritual meaning not before susj^ected : then we shall find a silent change of manner, the language and the bearing of one who knows himself to be Divine : and finally, toward the close of his work, we shall see the full disclosure of the truth, his equality with the Father, his sacrificial relations to the Jews and to all the world ; and in connection with this last fact we shall hear the annunciation of that truth most repugnant to a Jew, a svffcring Messiah. Not only shall we find this law of progressive de- velopment exemplified in a general way, but we shall see it in each minor element. His own nature and claims, implied rather than asserted at first, he taught with an increasing emphasis and fulness of disclosure to the end of his ministry. His doctrine of spiritual life, as unfolded in the private discourses with his dis- ciples just before his Passion, and recorded in the five chapters beginning with the twelfth of John's Gospel, are remarkable, not alone for their spiritual depth and fervor, but as showing how fixr his teachings had by that time gone beyond the Sermon on the Mount. The earlier and later teachings are in contrast, not in respect to relative perfection, but in the order of de- velopment. Both are perfect, but one as a germ and the other as its blossom. Jesus observed in all his THE OUTLOOK. 175 ministry that law of growth which he affirmed in re- spect to the kingdom of Heaven. It is a seed, said he, the smallest of all seeds when sown, but when it is gro^vn it is a tree. At another time he distinguished the very stages of growth : " First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." (Mark iv. 28.) We are then to look for this unfolding process in the teachings of Jesus. We shall find him gathering up the threads of morality, already partly woven into the moral consciousness of his time ; we shall see how in his hands morality assumed a higher type, and was made to spring from nobler motives. Then we shall find the intimations of an interior and spiritual life expanding and filling a larger sphere of thought, until in the full radiance of his later teachings it dazzles the eyes of his disciples and transcends their spiritual capacity. In like manner the divinity of Christ's own nature and office was not made prominent at first ; but gradu- ally it grew into notice, until during the last half-year it assumed the air of sovereignty. In nothing is this so strikingly shown as in the teaching of his own personal relations to all true spiritual life in every individual. It is sublime when God declares himself to be the fountain of life. It would be insufferable arrogance in a mere man. But by every form of as- sertion, with incessant repetition, Jesus taught with growing intensity as his death drew near, that in him, and only in him, were the sources of spiritual life. " Come unto me," " Learn of me," " Abide in me," " Without me ye can do nothing." And yet, in the midst of such incessant assertions of himself, he 176 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. declared, and all the world has conceded it, "I am meek and lowly m heart." There was a corresponding development in his criti- cism of the prevailing religious life, and in the attacks which he made upon the ruling classes. His miracles, too, assumed a higher type from period to period; and, although we cannot draw a line at the precise periods of transition, yet no one can fail to mark how much deeper was the moral significance of the mira- cles wrought in the last few months of his life, than that of those in the opening of his career. We are not to look, then, for a ministry blazing forth at the beginning in its full effulgence. "We are to see Jesus, without signals or ostentation, taking up John's teach- ing, and beginning to preach, " Repent, for the king- dom of heaven is at hand " ; we are to wait for further disclosures issuing naturally and gradually, in an as- cending series. The whole life of Jesus was a true and normal growth. His ministry did not come like an orb, round and shining, perfect and full, at the first: it was a regular and symmetrical development. True, it differed from all other and ordinary human growths, in that no part of his teaching was false or crude. It was partial, but never erroneous. The first enunciations were as absolutely true as the last ; but he unfolded rudimentary truths in an order and in forms suitable for their propagation upon the human understanding. It is in these views that we shall find a solution of the seeming want of plan in the life of Jesus. There is no element in it which answers to our ordinary idea of a prearranged campaign. He knew that he was a sower of seed, and not the reaper. It was of THE OUTLOOK. 177 more importance that he should produce a powerful spiritual impression, than that he should give an or- ganized form to his followers. It was better that he should develojD the germs of a Divine spiritual life, than that he should work any immediate change in the forms of society. The Mosaic institutes had aimed at a spiritual life in man by building up around him restrainmg influences, acting thus upon the soul from the out- side. Jesus transferred the seat of action to the soul itself, and rendered it capable of self-control. Others had sought to overcome and put down the ap- petites and passions ; Jesus, by developing new forces in the soul and giving Divine excitement to the spir- itual nature, regulated the passions and harmonized them with the moral ends of life. When once the soul derived its highest stimulus from God, it might safely be trusted to develop all its lower forces, which, by subordination, became auxiliary. Jesus sought to develop a whole and perfect manhood, nothing lost, nothing in excess. He neither repelled nor underval- ued secular thrift, social morality, civil order, nor the fruits of an intellectual and aesthetic culture ; he did not labor directly for these, but struck farther back at a potential but as yet undisclosed nature in man, which if aroused and brought into a normal and vital relation with the Divine soul would give to all the earlier de- veloped and lower elements of man's nature a more complete control than had ever before been found, and would so fertilize and fructify the whole nature that the outward life would have no need of special pat- terns. Children act from rules. Men act from prin- ciples. A time will come when they will act from 12 178 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. intuitions, and right and wrong in the familiar matters of life will be determined by the agreement or dis- agreement of things with the moral sensibility, as music and beauty in art already are first felt, and afterwards reasoned upon and analyzed. If this be a true rendering of Christ's method, it will be ajoparent that all theories which imply that any out- ward forms of society, or special elements of art and industry, or the organization of a church, or the purifi- cation of the household, or any other special and de- tenninate external act or order of events or institu- tions, were parts of his plan, will fail in appreciating the one grand distinctive fact, namely, that it was a psychological kingdom that he came to found. He aimed not to construct a new system of morals or of philosophy, but a new soul, with new capabilities, under new spiritual influences. Of course an outward life and form would be developed from this inspiration. Men would still need governments, institutions, cus- toms. But with a regulated and reinforced nature they could be safely left to evolve these from their own reason and experience. As much as ever, there would be need of states, churches, schools. But for none of these need any pattern be given. They were left to be developed freely, as experience should dictate. Government is inevitable. It is a univer- sal constitutional necessity in man. There was no more need of providing for that, than of providing for sleep or for breathing. Life, if fully developed and left free to choose, will find its way to all neces- sary outward forms, in government, in society, and in industry. Therefore they utterly misconceive the genius of THE OUTLOOK. 179 Christ's work who suppose that he aimed at the estab- lishment of an organized church. Beyond the inci- dental commands to his disciples to draw together and maintain intimate social life, there is no special or dis- tinctive provision for church organization. That was left to itself As after events have shown, the tendency to organize was already too strong. Religion has been imprisoned in its own institutions. Perhaps the most extraordinary contrast ever known to history is that which exists between the genius of the Gospels and the pompous claims of church hierarchies. Christians made haste to repeat the mistakes of the Hebrews. Religion ran rank to outwardness. The fruit, hidden by the enormous growth of leaves, could not ripen. Spiritu- ality died of ecclesiasticism. If the Church has been the nurse, it has also been often the destroyer of religion. If Jesus came to found a church, never were actions so at variance with purposes. There are no recorded instructions to this end. He remained in the full com- munion of the Jewish Church to the last. Nor did his disciples or apostles dream of leaving the church of their fathers. They went up with their countrymen, at the great festivals, to Jerusalem. They resorted to the Temple for worshij). They attempted to develop their new life within the old forms. Little by httle, and slowly, they learned by exjDerience that new wine could not be kept in old bottles. The new life re- quired and found better conditions, a freer conscience, fewer rules, more liberty. For a short period the en- franchised soul, in its new promised land, shone forth with great glory ; but then, like the fathers of old, believers fell back from liberty to superstition, and 180 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. for a thousand years have been in captivity to spir- itual Babylon. The captivity is drawing to a close. The Jerusa- lem of the Spirit is descending, adorned as a bride for the bridegroom. The new life in God is gath- ering disciples. They are finding each other. Not disdaining outward helps, they are learning that the Spirit alone is essential. All creeds, churches, institu- tions, customs, ordinances, are but steps upon which the Christian plants his foot, that they may help him to ascend to the perfect liberty in Christ Jesus. THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. Igl CHAPTER IX. THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. If one considers that, after his experience in the wilderness, Jesus seems for a period of some months to have returned to private life, — that he neither went to the Temple in Jerusalem, nor appeared before the religious teachers of his people, nor even apparently entered the Holy City, but abruptly dejDarted to Gali- lee, — it may seem as if he had no plan of pro- cedure, but waited until events should open the way into his ministry. But what if it was his purpose to refuse all public life in our sense of that term ? What if he meant to remain a private citizen, working as one friend would with another, eschewing the roads of influence already laid out, and going back to that simple personal power which one heart has upon another in genial and friend- ly contact ? His power was to be, not with whole communities, but with the individual, — from man to man ; and it was to spring, not from any machinery of institution wielded by man, nor from official position, but from his own personal nature, and from the intrinsic force of truth to be uttered. At the very beginning, and through his whole career, we shall find Jesus clinging to private life, or to jDublic life only in its transient and spontaneous developments out of private life. He 182 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. taiio:lit from house to house. He never went amono- crowds. They gathered about him, and dissolved again after he had passed on. The pubhc roadside, the synagogues, the princely mansion, the Temple, the boat by the sea-shore, the poor man's cottage, were all alike mere incidents, the accidents of time and place, and not in any manner things to be depended upon for influence. He was not an elder or a ruler in the synagogue, nor a scribe or a priest, but strictly a private citizen. He was in liis own simple self the whole power. The first step of Jesus in his ministry is a return home to his mother. This is not to be looked at mere- ly as a matter of sentiment ; it is characteristic of the new dispensation which he came to inaugurate. In the spiritual order that was now to be introduced there were to be no ranks and classes, no public and official life as distinguished from private and personal. The Church was to be a household ; men were to be brethren, " members one of another." God was made known as the Father, magisterial in love. Had Jesus separated himself from the common life, even by assuming the garb and place of an authorized teacher, had he affiliated with the Temple officers, had he been in any way connected with a hierarchy, his course would have been at variance with one aim of his mission. It was the private life of the world to which he came. His own personal life, his home life, his famil- iar association with men, his social intercourse, formed his true public career. He was not to break in upon the world with the boisterous energy of warriors, — " He shall not strive nor cry " ; nor was he to seek, THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 183 after the manner of ambitious orators, to dazzle the people, — " His voice shall not be heard in the streets." Without pressing unduly this prophecy of the Messiah, it may be said that it discriminates between an ambi- tious and noisy career, and a ministry that was to move among men with gentleness, affability, sympathy, and loving humility. AVe shall lose an essential characteristic of both his disposition and his djsjDensation, if we accustom our- selves to think of Jesus as a public man, in our sense of official eminence. We are to look for him among the common scenes of daily life, not distinguished in any way from the people about him, except in supe- rior wisdom and goodness. It is true that he often stood in public places, but only as any other Jew might have done. He was never set apart in an" manner after the usages of the priesthood. He cf, .le back from artificial arrangements to nature. There is great significance in the title by which he almost inva- riably spoke of himself, — "the Son of Man." By this title he emphasized his mission. He had descended from God. He was born of woman, had joined himself to the human family, and meant to cleave fast to his kindred. To one conscious of his own Divinity, the title "Son of Man" becomes very significant of the value which he placed upon his union with mankind. His personal and intimate connection with the great body of the people, beginning with his early years, was continued to the end. It is not strange, then, that Jesus began his active ministry with a return from the scene of his temptation to his former home. He did not pause at Nazareth, but either went with his mother or followed her to Cana, 184 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CUEIST. where a wedding was to take place. There were two Canas, — one now called Kefr Kenna, a small village about four miles and a half northeast of Nazareth, and Kana-el-JcUl, about nine miles north of Nazareth ; and the best authorities leave it still uncertain in which the first miracle of our Lord was performed. It may be interesting, but it is not important, to detemune the question. The appearance of Jesus at the wedding, and his ac- tive participation in the festivities, are full of meaning. It is highly improbable that John the Baptist could have been persuaded to appear at such a service. For he lived apart from the scenes of common hfe, was solitary, and even severe. His followers would have been strongly inclined to fall in with the philosophy nd practices of the Essenes. If so, the simple pleas- Ui 3 and the ordinary occupations of common life would be regarded as inconsistent with religion. Jesus had just returned from John's presence. He had passed through the ordeal of solitude and the temptation of the wilderness. He had gathered three or four dis- ciples, and was taking the first steps in his early career. That the very first act should be an attendance, with his disciples, by invitation, at a Jewish wedding, which was seldom less than three and usually of seven days' duration, and was conducted with most joyful fes- tivities, cannot but be regarded as a significant tes- timony. The Hebrews were led by their religious institutions to the cultivation of social and joyous habits. Their great religious feasts were celebrated ^vith some days of solemnity, but with more of festivity such as would seem to our colder manners almost like dissipation. THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 185 In all nations the wedding of young people calls forth sympathy. Among the Hebrews, from the earliest times, nuptial occasions were celebrated with rejoicings, in which the whole community took some part. The scene comes before us clearly. The bride- groom's house, or his father's, is the centre of festivity. The bride and groom spend the day separately in se- clusion, in confession of sin and rites of purgation. As evening draws near, the friends and relatives of the bride bring her forth from her parents' house in full bridal apparel, with myrtle vines and garlands of flowers about her head. Torches precede the company ; music breaks out on every side. Besides the instruments provided for the processions, songs greet them along the way; for the street is lined with virgins, who yield to the fair candidate that honor which they hope in time for themselves. They cast flowers before her, and little cakes and roasted ears of wheat. The street resounds with gayety ; and as the band draws near the appointed dwelling, the bridegroom and his friends come forth to meet the bride and to conduct her into the house. After some legal settlements have been perfected, and the marriage service has been performed, a sumptuous feast is provided, and the utmost joy and merriment reign. Nor do the festivities terminate with the im- mediate feast. A whole week is devoted to rejoicing and gayety. It must not be imagined, however, that such pro- longed social enjoyment degenerated into dissipation. In luxurious cities, and especially after commerce and wealth had brought in foreign manners, the grossest excesses came to prevail at great feasts; but the common people among the old Hebrews were, in the 186 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. main, temperate and abstinent. That almost epidemic drunkenness wliicli in modern times has prevailed among Teutonic races, in cold climates, was unknown to the great body of the Hebrew nation. The sobriety and vigorous industry of the society in which we have been educated indisposes us to sym- pathize with such expenditure of time for social pur- poses as was connnon among the Hebrews. We spare a single day at long intervals, and then hasten back to our tasks as if escaping from an evil. Weddhigs among the poorest Jews, as we have said, seldom ab- sorbed less than three days. , The ordinary term of conviviality was seven days. Among men of wealth or eminent station, the genial service not unfrequently extended to fourteen days. During this time, neigh- bors came and went. Those from a distance tarried both day and night. The time was fdlod up with entertainments suitable to the condition of the various classes. The young employed the cool hours with dances. The aged quietly looked on, or held tranquil converse apart from the crowd. Nor was intellectual provision wanting. Readings and addresses were then miknown. In a land where philosopliy was as yet only a collection of striking proverbs or ingenious enigmas, it was deemed an intellectual exercise to propound riddles and " dark sayings," and to call forth the exer- cise of the imagination in giving solutions. These oc- casions were not devoted, then, to a mere riot of merry- making. They were the meetings of long-dispersed friends, the gathering-points of connected families ; in the absence of facilities for frequent intercourse, the seven (lays of a weddiuijc feast Avould serve as a means of intercommunion and the renewal of friendships ; and THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 187 it was peculiarly after the genius of the Hebrew people that both religion and social intercourse should take place with the accompaniments of abundant eating and drinking. The table was loaded with provisions, the best that the means of the parties could supply ; nor was it unusual for the guests also to contribute to the common stock. There is no reason to presume that the wedding at Cana was of less duration than the common period of seven days; and it may be assumed, in the absence of evidence to the contrary, that Jesus remained to the end. It has been surmised that it was a near connec- tion of his mother who was the host upon this occasion. HoAvever that may be, she was actively engaged in the management of the feast, kept herself informed of the state of the provisions, sought to replenish them when they were expended, and assumed familiar authority over the servants, who appear to have obeyed her implicitly. Nothing could well be a greater violation of the spirit of his people, and less worthy of him, than the supposition that Jesus walked among the joyous guests with a cold or disapproving eye, or that he held himself aloof and was wrapped in his own meditations. His whole life shows that his soul went out in sym- pathy with the human life around him. His manners were so agreeable and attractive that all classes of men instinctively drew near to him. It needs not that we imagine him breaking forth into effulgent gayety ; but that he looked upon the happiness around him with smiles it would be wrong to doubt. There are some whose very smile carries benediction, and whose eye sheds perpetual happiness. 188 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. But Jesus was not simply a genial guest. He had chosen the occasion for the display of his first miracle. It would seem that more guests had come to the wed- ding than had been provided for, drawn, perhaps, from day to day, in increasing numbers, by the presence of Jesus. The wine gave out. The scene as recorded by John is not without its remarkable features. The air of Mary in applying to her son seems to point either to some previous conversation, or to the knowl- edge on her part that he possessed extraordinary powers, and that he might be expected to exercise them. " They have no [more] wine." Jesus said unto her, " Woman, what have I to do with thee ? mine hour is not yet come." Interpreted according to the impression which such language would make were it employed thus abruptly in our day, this reply must be admitted to be not only a refusal of his mother's request, but a rebuke as well, and in language hardly less than harsh. But inter- preted through the imjDression which it produced upon his mother, it was neither a refusal nor a rebuke ; for she acted as one who had asked and obtained a favor. She turned at once to the servants, with the command, " Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." This is not the lanoruao-e of one who felt rebuked, but of one DO -' whose request had been granted. In houses of any pretension it was customary to make provision for the numerous washings, both of the person and of vessels, which the Pharisaic usages required. (Mark vii. 4.) In this instance there were six large water-vessels, holding two or three frJcins apiece. The six " water-pots of stone," therefore, had THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 189 a capacity of about one himclred and twenty-six gal- lons.^ These vessels were filled with water, and at the will of the Lord the water became wine. When the master of the feast tasted it, it proved so much superior to the former supply as to call forth his commendation. The quantity of wine has excited some criticism ; but it should be borne in mind that in Palestine, where light wines were so generally a part of the common drink, four barrels of wine would not seem a supply so ex- traordinary as it does to people in non-wine-growing countries, who have been accustomed to see fiery wines, in small quantities and at high prices. It must also be remembered that the company was large, or else the provision would not have given out, and that it was without doubt to be yet larger from day to day, the miracle itself tending to bring together all the neigh- borhood. It is to be considered also that wine, unlike bread, is not perishable, but grows better with age ; so that, had the quantity been far greater than their pres- ent need, it would not be wasted. On the other hand, ^ The term " firkin," in our English version, is the Greek metretes, corre- sponding, according to Josephus, to the Hebrew bath. The Attic metretes held 8 gallons and 7.4 pints. The water-vessels are said in the Gospel to have held between two and three fii'kins, or metretes, apiece, which would be somewhere between 17 and 25 gallons. Calling it 21 gallons, six of them would be 126 gallons. The writer in Smith's Bible Dictionary places the quantity at 110 gallons; but Wordsworth gives 136. The lowest estimate which we have seen puts it at 60 gallons, but the weight of authority places it as in the text. It has been remarked, that the fact that these vessels were exclusively appropriated to water, and never used for holding wine, will prevent the slipping over this miracle by saying that wine was already in the vessels, and that water was only added to it. The quantity, too, made it impos- sible that it should have been wrought in an underhanded and collusive manner. It is the very first of a long series of nuracles, and one of the most indisputable. 190 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. there were reasons why the supply should be gen- erous. The wine had once given out. The strange supply said to every one, There can be no second fail- ure. Abundance goes with power wherever the Divine hand works. That the wine created by our Lord answered to the fermented wine of the country would never have been doubted, if the exigencies of a modern and most benefi- cent reformation had not created a strong but unwise disposition to do away with the imdoubted example of our Lord. But though the motive was good, and the effort most ingeniously and plausibly carried out, the result has failed to satisfy the best scholars ; and it is the almost universal conviction of those competent to form a judgment, that our Lord did both make and use wines which answer to the fermented wines of the present day in Palestine.^ ^ The editors of the Congregational Review, No. 54, pp. 398, 399, in a review of Comrmmion Wine and Bible Temperance, by Kev. William M. Thayer, pubUshed by the National Temperance Society, 18G9, use the following language : — " We respect the zeal of Mr. Thayer, and do not question his .sincerity. But we have gone over the arguments he has reproduced ; we have con- sidered his so-called evidence, which has so often done duty in its narrow range ; we have pondered the discussions of Lees, Nott, Ritchie, and Duf- field, before him ; what is more, we have gone over the Greek and Hebrew Scrijjtures carefully for ourselves ; have sifted the testimony of travellers who knew, and those Avho did not know ; have corresponded with mission- aries and conferred with Jewish Rabbis on this subject; and if there is any- thing in Biblical literature on which we can speak confidently, we have no doubt that Dr. Laurie is right and that Rev. Mr. Thayer is wrong." (Mr. Thayer's book is an attempt to show that there are two kinds of wine spoken of in the Bible, one of which is intoxicating and the other not.) " In these views we are thoroughly supported. If we mistake not, the Biblical scholarship of Andovcr, Pi-inceton, Newton, Chicago, and New Haven, as well as Smith's Bible Dictionary and Kitto's Biblical Cyclopcedia, is with us. One of the most learned and devout scholars of the country recently said to us : ' None but a third-rate scholar adopts the view that THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 191 Drunkenness has prevailed in all ages and in all countries, but it has been the vice of particular races far more than of others. In the earlier periods of the world, all moral remedial influences were rela- tively weak. With the progressive development of man we have learned to throw off evils by ways which were scarcely practicable in early days. So it has been with the sin of drunkenness. Christian men proposed, some half a century ago, voluntarily to ab- stain from the use, as a diet or as a luxury, of all that can intoxicate. A revolution of public sentiment gradually followed in respect to the drinking usages of society. This abstinence has been urged upon various grounds. Upon the intrinsic nature of all alcoholic stimulants temperance men have been divided in opin- ion, some taking the extreme ground that alcohol is a poison, no less when developed by fermentation and remaining in chemical combination than when by dis- tillation it exists in separation and concentration, — a statement in which some physiologists of note have concurred. But these views have never won favor with the great body of physiologists, and the more recent in- vestigators are farther from admitting them than their predecessors. Yet it is certain that the discussions and investigations have destroyed, it may be hoped forever, the extravagant notions which have prevailed in all countries as to the benefits of wine and strong drinks. It is admitted that they are always injurious to many constitutions, that they are medically useful in far less tlie Bible describes two kinds of wine.' The National Temperance So- ciety lias done its best to create a different popular belief, if not to cast odium on those who do not accept its error. We regret it, for the tem- perance cause can be carried on by sound arguments and fair means, and all false methods must recoil at last." 192 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. degrees and in fewer instances than hitherto has been supposed, and that to ordinary persons in good health they are not needful, adding neither any strength nor any vitality which could not be far better attained by wholesome food and suitable rest. A certain advantage would be gained in the advo- cacy of total abstinence if it could be shown that any use of wine is a sin against one's own nature. But the moral power of example is immeasurably greater if those who hold that wine and its colleagues are not unwholesome when used sjDaringly shall yet, as a free- will offering to the weak, cheerfully refrain from their use. To relinquish a wrong is praiseworthy ; but to yield up a personal right for benevolent purposes is far more admirable. There have not been many spectacles of equal moral impressiveness, since the coming of Christ, than the example of millions of Christian men, in both hemi- spheres, cheerfully and enthusiastically giving up the use of intoxicating drink, that by their example they might restrain or win those wdio were in danger of ruinous temptation. If in any age or nation the evil of intemperance is not general nor urgent, the entire abstinence from wine may be wise for peculiar individ- uals, but it can have no general moral influence, since the conditions would be wanting which called for self- sacrifice. Had Jesus, living in our time, beheld the wide waste and wretchedness arising from inordinate appetites, can any one doubt on which side he would be found ? "Was not his whole life a superlative giving up of his own rights for the benefit of the fliUen ? Did he not teach that customs, institutions, and laws must yield to THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 193 the inherent sacreclness of man ? In his own age he ate and drank as his countrymen did, judging it to be safe to do so. But this is not a condemnation of the course of those who, in other lands and under different circumstances, wholly abstain from wine and strong drink, for their own good and for the good of others. The same action has a different moral sig- nificance in different periods and circumstances. Jesus followed the harmless custom of his country ; when, in another age and country, the same custom had be- come mischievous, would he have allowed it? "All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expe- dient." (1 Cor. vi. 12.) "It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby thy brother .... is made weak." (Rom. xiv. 21.) The example of Christ beyond all question settles the doctrine, that, if abstinence from wine is practised, it must be a voluntary act, a cheerful surrender of a thing not necessarily in itself harmful, for the sake of a true benevolence to others. But if it be an extreme to wrest the example of Christ in favor of the total- abstinence theories of modern society, it is a yet more dangerous one to employ his example as a shield and justification of the drinking usages which have proved the greatest curse ever known to man. Nor can we doubt that a voluntary abstinence from all that intoxi- cates, as a diet or a luxury, by all persons in health, for moral reasons, is in accordance with the very spirit of the gospel. The extraordinary benefits which have accompanied and followed the temperance refonnation mark it as one of the great victories of Christianity. The scenes at Cana are especially grateful to us as 13 194 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. disclosing the inward feeling of Jesus respecting social life, as well as the peculiar genius of Christianity. He began his mission to others by going home to his mother. The household was his first temple : the opening of a wedded life engaged his first sympathy, and the promotion of social and domestic happiness was the inspiration of his first miracle. We are espe- cially struck with his direct production of enjoyment. In marked contrast with the spirit of many of the reigning moral philosophers, who despised pleasure, Christ sought it as a thing essentially good. Recog- nizing the truth that goodness and virtue are the sources of continuous happiness, Jesus taught that gladness is one of the factors of virtue, and none the less so because sorrow is another, each of them play- ing around the forms and events of practical life as do light and shadow in a picture. Far more important than we are apt to consider among the secondary in- fluences which have maintained Christianity itself in this world, in spite of the corruption of its doctrines and the horrible cruelty of its advocates, has been its subtile and indestructible sympathy both with sufier- ing and with joy. It sounds the depths of the one, and rises to the height of the other. Its power has never lain in its intellectual elements, but in its command of that nature which lies back of all j^hilosophy or volun- tary activity. It breathes the breath of the Almighty upon the elements of the soul, and again order and life spring from darkness and chaos. Through the household, as through a gate, Jesus en- tered upon his ministry of love. Ever since, the Chris- tian home has been the refuo-e of true relisrion. Here it has had its purest altars, its best teachers, and a life THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 195 of self-denying love in all gladness, which is consti- tuted a perpetual memorial of the nourishing love of God, and a symhol of the great mystery of sacrifice by which love perpetually lays down its life for others. The religion of the Synagogue, of the Temple, and of the Church would have perished long ago but for the ministry of the household. It was fit that a ministry of love should begin at home. It was fit, too, that love should develop joy. Joyful love inspires self-denial, and keeps sorrow wholesome. Love civilizes conscience, refines the passions, and restrains them. The bright and joyful opening of Christ's ministry has been gen- erally lost sight of The darkness of the last great tragedy has thrown back its shadow upon the morning hour of his life. His course was rounded out, like a perfect day. It began with the calmness and dewiness of a morning, it came to its noon with fervor nnd labor, it ended in twilight and darkness, but rose again without cloud, unsetting and immortal. For two years Jesus pursued his ministry in his own Galilee, among scenes fiimiliar to his childhood, every- where performing the most joyful work which is pos- sible to this world, — that of bringing men out of trouble, of inspiring hunger for truth and righteous- ness, of cheering the hopeless and desj)onding, be- sides works of mercy, almost without number, directed to the relief of the physical condition of the poor and neglected. The few disciples who had accompanied Jesus, and were with him at the marriage, were drawn to him by that miracle with renewed admiration. The bands that at first held them to their Master must have been slight. Being rude, unlettered men, accustomed to live by 196 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. their senses only, they were not jQi quahfied to go without important external adjuvants. As there was no organization, no school or party, no separate religious forms, but only this one peasant prophet, lately a me- chanic, whose words and bearing had greatly fascinated them, it was to be expected that they would soon de- spond and doubt if something tangible were not given them ; and this miracle answered their need. The effect produced on their minds was thought worthy of record : " And his disciples believed on him." Of all the re- maining crowd of guests, of the host and his household, of the bridal pair and their gay companions, nothing is said. Probably the miracle was the wonder of the hour, and then passed with the compliments and con- gratulations of the occasion into the happy haze of iiiemory, in which particulars are lost, and only a pleas- ing mist overhangs the too soon receding past. But it seems certain that all of the immediate household of Jesus were brought for a time under his influence. For when, soon after these events, he went down to Capernaum, upon the northwestern coast of the Sea of Galilee, all went with him^ — "he, and his mother, and his brethren, and his disciples." (John ii. 12.) Nothing is disclosed of the object of this visit, or of his occupation while there. It is not improbable, though it is but a supposition, that he had formerly plied his trade in Capernaum, while he was yet living by manual labor. After he was rejected and treated with brutal ignominy by his own townsmen of Nazareth, he made Capernaum his home. It is probable that his mother, sister, and brethren removed thither, and had there a house to which Jesus resorted as to a home when he was in THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 197 Capernaum.^ It is believed that it was a city of con- siderable population and importance. It was always called a " city/' had its synagogue, in which Jesus often taught, was a Roman garrison town and a customs sta- tion. It is probable that it was on the lake shore, near the city, that Jesus saw and called Simon Peter and his brother Andrew, while they were "mending their nets." Matthew — who resided there, was a publican, and was summoned by the Lord from this odious occupation to discipleship — says, with perhaps a little pride, speak- ing of Capernaum : " And he entered into a ship, and passed over, and came into Jiis own cityT Here too he healed the demoniac (Mark i. 21-28), cured the cen- turion's servant (Luke vii. 1), the paralytic (Mark ii. 3), and the man with an unclean devil (Mark i. 23, Luke iv. 33), and raised Jairus's daughter (Mark v. 22). It was here that the nobleman's son lay when in Cana the healing word went forth which restored him. It was at Capernaum that, when tribute was demanded of him, he sent Peter to find in a fish's mouth the piece of money required (Matt. xvii. 24). Here he healed Peter's wife's mother, who "lay sick of a fever" ; and Tristram, in arguing for the site of Capernamn at the "Round Fountain," remarks that fevers are prevalent there to this day. It was in or near this city that many of our Lord's most striking parables were ut- tered,— "the sower," "the tares," "the goodly pearls," " the net cast into the sea," and, notably, " the Sermon on the Mount." It was in Capernaum that he dis- coursed on fasting (Matt. ix. 10), and exposed the ^ Grove says, in Smith's Bible Dictionary, that the phrase in Mark ii. 1, " in the house," has in the Greek the force of " at home." So, in modern languages, the French a la maison, the German zu Hause, the Italian alia casa, etc. 198 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. frivolous customs and vain traditions of the Pharisees (Matt. XV. 1, etc.). Here also occurred the remarkable discussion recorded by John only (John vi. 22-71), and the discourse upon humility, with a "little child" for the text (Mark ix. 33-50). Jerusalem is more intimately associated with the solemn close of Christ's hfe, but no place seems to have had so much of his time, discourse, and mira- cles as Capernaum. And yet nowhere was he less successful in winning the people to a S23iritual life, or even to any considerable attention, save the tran- sient enthusiasm excited by a miracle. The intense cry of sorrow uttered by Jesus over Jerusalem has its counterpart in his righteous indignation over the city by the sea : " And thou, Capernaum, which art ex- alted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell ; for if the mighty works which have been done in thee had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day It shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom, in the day of judgment, than for thee." (Matt. xi. 23, 24.) Even if Jesus wrought miracles at this first visit to Capernaum, immediately after the wedding scene at Cana, no record or notice of them appears in the narrative, except that, afterward, when he was in Nazareth, he heard, doubtless, the whisper- mgs and taunts of his impudent townsmen, and re- plied : " Ye will surely say unto me this proverb, Physician, heal thyself: whatsoever we have heard done in Capernaum do also here in thy country." We may infer, then, that the whole country was full of the rumor of his miracles during his brief stay on this his earliest visit to Capernaum. Although the woes denounced against "his own T3E HOUSEHOLD GATE. 199 city" were designed to reach its citizens rather than the streets and dwelhngs of the city itself, yet they seem to have overflowed and fallen with crushing weight upon the very stones of the town. The plain of Genesareth and the Sea of Galilee are still there, as when Christ made them familiar by his daily foot- steps along their border. But the cities, — they are utterly j^erished ! Among several heaps of shapeless stones upon the northeast coast of the Sea of Gahlee, for hundreds of years, geographers and antiquaries have groped and dug in vain. Which was Bethesda, which Chorazin or Capernaum, no one can tell to this day. Not Sodom, under the waters of the Dead Sea, is more lost to sight than the guilty cities of that other plain, Genesareth. "And they continued there not many days." The Passover being at hand, Jesus went to Jerusalem, and there next we must see him and hear his voice. 200 THE LIFE OF JESUS. THE CHRIST. CHAPTER X. THE FIRST JUDiEAN MINISTRY. Twelve tribes settled Palestine and a narrow strip of territory east of the river Jordan. The tribid spirit was strong. Had there been no j)rovision for keeping up a common national Hfe, the Israelites would have been liable to all the evils of a narrow and obstinate provincial spirit. There were neither schools to pro- mote intellio-ence nor books to feed it. Modern na- tions, through the newspapers and swift tracts, keep their people conversant with the same ideas at the same time. Every week sees the millions of this con- tinent thinkino- and talkino; of the same events, and discussing the same policies or interests. But no such provision for a common popular education was pos- sible in Palestine. The same result, however, was sought by the great Lawgiver of the Desert by means of a circulation of the people themselves. Three times in each year every male inhabitant of the land who was not legally impure, or hindered by infirmity or sickness, was com- manded to appear in Jerusalem, and for a week to engage in the solemn or joyful services of the Tem- ple. The great occasions were the Passover, the Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles. It is proba- ble that the first and last of these were borrowed from celebrations already existing among other nations THE FIRST JUD^AN MINISTRY. 201 of antiquity, and primarily had reference to the course of nature. The seasons of seed-sowing and harvesting would naturally furnish points for religious and social festivals. We still retain a vestige of these festivals in the melancholy Fast-day of New England and in the Thanksgiving-day of the nation ; so that these simple primitive observances of the vernal and autumnal posi- tions of the sun seem likely to outlive all more elab- orate institutions. But if Moses borrowed festivals already in vogue, it is certain that he gave new asso- ciations to them by making them commemorate cer- tain great events in the history of the Israelites. The feast of the Passover was kept in remembrance of the safety of the Jews on that awful night when Jehovah smote the first-born of every family in Egypt, but passed over the dwellings of his own people, and forbade the angel of death to strike any of their households. The event itself marked an epoch in Jew- ish history. The secondary benefits of its celebration, however, were primary in moral importance. To be taken away from home and sordid, cares ; to be thrown into a mighty stream of pilgrims that moved on from every quarter to Jerusalem; to see one's own country- men from every part of Palestine, and Avitli them to offer the same sacrifices, in the same place, by a common ministration ; to utter the same psalms, and mingle in the same festivities, — could not but pro- duce a civilizing influence far stronger than would re- sult from such a course in modern times, when society has so much better means of educating its people. It was not far from the time of the Passover that Jesus went to Capernaum, and his stay there was ap- parently shortened by his desire to be in Jerusalem 202 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. at this solemn festival. Already lie beheld among his countrymen joreparations for the journey. Pilgrims were passing through Capernaum. The great road along the western shore of the Lake of Genesareth was filled with groups of men going toward Jerusalem. Probably Jesus joined himself to the company; nor can any one who has noticed his cheerful and affectionate disjDOsition doubt that he exerted upon his chance com- panions that winning influence which so generally brought men about him in admiring familiarity. K he pursued the route east of the Jordan, crossing again near the scene of his baptism, and ascending by tKe way of Jericho and Bethany, he approached Jeru- salem from the east. From this quarter Jerusalem breaks upon the eye with a beauty which it has not when seen from any other direction. At this time, too, he would behold swarming with people, not the city only, but all its neighborhood. Although it was the custom of all jDious Jews to entertain their country- men at the great feasts, yet no city could hold the numbers. The fields were white with tents. The hills round about were covered as with an encamped army. Josephus says that at the Passover A. d. 65, there were three million Jews in attendance, and that in the reign of Nero there were on one occasion two million seven himdred thousand ; and even greater numbers have been recorded. But if the half of these were present, it is plain that the whole region around Jerusalem, together with near villages, must have been over full. Eight before him, as he came over the Mount of Olives, shone forth the Temple, whose foundations rose sheer from the precipitous rocks on the eastern side of Jerusalem, and whose white marble summits gUt- THE FIRST JUD^AN MINISTRY. 203 tered in the sun higher than the highest objects in the city itself. We should dismiss from our minds all preconcep- tions of the appearance of the renowned Temple, whether based upon classic temples or upon modern cathedrals or churches. It resembled none of them, but stood by itself, without parallel or likeness either in structure or method, as it certainly stood alone among all temples in its wonderful uses. It was not so much a building as a system of structures ; one quadrangle within another, the second standing upon higher ground than the outermost, and the Temple proper upon a position highest of all, and forming the architectural climax of beauty, as it certainly stood highest in moral sacredness. The TemjDle of Solomon was originally built upon the rocky heights on the east side of Jerusalem, and was separated from the city by a deep ravine. The heights not affording sufficient room for all the outbuildings, the royal architect built up a wall from the valley below and filled in the enclosed S]Dace with earth. Other additions continued to be made, until, when Herod had finished the last Temple, — that one which shone out upon Jesus and the pil- grims coming over the Mount of Olives, — the whole space, including the tower of Antonia, occupied about nineteen acres. The Temple, then, was not a single building, like the Grecian temples or like modern cathedrals, but a system of concentric enclosures or courts, — a kind of sacerdotal citadel, of which the Temple j^roper, though the most splendid part of it, and lifted high above all the rest, was in space and bulk but a small part. In approaching the sacred mount, the Jew first entered the outer court, called 204 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. the Court of the Gentiles, not because it was set apart for them, but because Gentiles, rigorously excluded from every other portion of the Temple enclosures, were permitted, with all others, to enter there. This outer quadrangle, taken separately from the residue of the Temple system, was remarkable for its magni- tude, its magnificence, and the variety of its uses. Although its walls were elevated, yet, standing upon a lower level, they did not hide the interior courts, with their walls, gates, and adornments. On the in- ner side of the walls of this outer court extended porticos or cloisters with double rows of white marble Corinthian columns. The ceiling was flat, finished with cedar, and nearly forty feet in height above the floor. But these cloisters were quite eclipsed by the magnificence of the Stoa Basilica, or Royal Porch, on the south side. It consisted of a nave and two aisles, six hundred feet in length, formed by four rows of white marble columns, forty columns in each row. The breadth of the central space was forty-five feet, and its height one hundred. The side spaces were thirty feet wide and fifty in height. This impressive building was unlike any other, in that it was wholly open on the side toward the Temple ; it was connected with the city and the king's palace by a bridge thrown across the ravine. This vast arcade was a grand resort for all persons of leisure who repaired to the Temple, a kind of ecclesiastical Exchano-e, somewhat analoo:ous to the Grecian Agora or the Roman Forum ; a place of general resort for public, literary, or professional business. Some parts of it were appropriated to syna- gogical purposes. It was here that Jesus was accus- tomed to teach the people and to hold discourse with NORTH CLOISTER liy a' A jl D B D D an g D n o n n B n-n b^b n n b a b n avB^p^n o n^n a»n^n mnb n^OKn^ COURT OF TME GENTILES » z 4