(John M. tCr-^b' vf - \ 4 * V- ■ .BIZ y ' I THE APOSTLES JESUS CHRIST. BY D. FRANCIS BACON. NEW YORK: BAKEK AND SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET. 1846. Enterep, According to Act of Congress, in the year 1835, by DAVID FRANCIS BACON, Author, Ii; the office of the Clerk of the District Court of the District of Connecticut LIVES OF THE APOSTLES OF JESUS CHRIST TO HIS FIRST TEACHER, ms EARLIEST INSTRUCTOR IN THE SACRED RECORD OF APOSTOLIC HISTORY, —WHOSE LESSONS, PRECEDING ALL OTHERS, AND EXCELUNG ALL IN VALUE AND INTEREST, HAVE BEEN MOST CHERISHED AND BEST REMEMBERED— TO HER FROM WHOM, WITH LIFE, WAS DERIVED THE POWER OF THOUGHT AND EXPRESSION, AS WELL AS THE TASTE FOR THEMES LIKE THIS,— TO THE MOTHER WHOSE CARES AND TOILS WERE SO DEVOTEDLY GIVEN TO HIM, IN THE HOPE THAT HE MIGHT BECOME WORTHY OF THE HERITAGE OF A TRULY APOSTOLIC FATHER'S NAME, THIS WORK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR. There are many revered and honored names well entitled to the acknow- ledgments of this inscription, — many learned theologians and profound scholars, from whom the author has, at various times, derived useful instruction on these and kindred subjects, — to commemorate which, in this place, would be a grateful duty ; but his highest obligations for the knowledge of Divine things and for the love of the truth, antedate all these. On very many pages of this work are facts and expressions drawn from that earliest and purest source of knowledge ; and its composition was often cheered by the imperishable memories of his childhood's hallowed nurture. Tliat this work has been approved, and declared DEDICATION. worthy of success, by one so capable of judging its pretensions, and that it has, in partial recompense, communicated any new facts to the information of one whose early teachings have contributed so much to develope its author's taste for such studies, may well be deemed a sufficient reward of the labor bestowed on it. Blended with these recollections of duty and gratitude, are the saddened re- membrances of another, who, though now long-departed, did not enter into his eternal rest till he had breathed into the ear of unconscious childhood, the name of God and the simple words of divine truth, in reverent and instructive tones, that yet sound clearly in a faithful memory, and can never be lost among the profane clamors of a troublous world. The associations of his name and holy calling, of his self-sacriiicing life and apostolic labors, have also influenced the character of this work. And therefore, in humble witness of obligations worthy of a richer and more enduring memorial, these pages are inscribed to the merits of a devoted mother and a sainted, missionary father. D F B PREFACE. The fair and just fulfilment of the promise made to the public, in the previous an- nouncement of this work, would require it to contain and present, simply, " a distinct, plain, historical narrative of the life of each of the Apostles, illustrated by such aids as could be draAvn from the works of various authors, of fonner ages, and of other countries, which hitherto, in the inaccessible fonns of a dead or foreign tongue, have been too long covered from the eyes of thousands, who might be profited by their more open coimnunication, — from these sources, as well as from the sacred record, to draw the materials of the narrative, — to throw occasionally the lights of historical, topo- graphical, and scientific, as well as exegetical illustrations on the word of truth, — and from all, to show how we may live, labor, and die, as did these first champions of Chi'ist crucified." A hope was also expressed by the author, that the facilities of his situation would enable him, by research among the long-hidden treasures of large and costly libraries, to bring forth, in direct illustration of this narrative, many of those collections of scriptural knowledge, which, by their size and rarity, are be- yond the reach and the means of a vast number of Biblical students, who would de- rive great advantage and pleasure from their perusal ; and that even clergymen and students of theology might find in this work many things drawn from these valuable materials, that would make this a desirable book for them. Yet, far from promising the combined results of all the labors of the learned on these subjects, the author then distinctly professed his main object to be — the collection and combination of such facts and illustrations as vi'ould make the work acceptable and interesting to readers of all classes — to popular, as well as to learned readers ; and he accordingly engaged to pre- sent all the contents of the book, clear and plain, even to those whose minds have not been accustomed to deep research in Biblical study. "With these objects constantly in view, the author has long been steadily and labori- ously devoted to the preparation and composition of this book. In presenting this re- sult of his labors, he is not conscious ot having actually failed to comply with the general terms of his published engagement ; yet the critical eyes of many among his readers will doubtless light upon parts of the work, which have been materially affect- ed in their character by the very peculiar circumstances under which the labor has been vmdertaken and prosecuted, — circumstances so very peculiar, that, in accordance with the universal custom of those who have completed such tasks, he is justified in referring to some important details of the history of the \vTiting. The fii'st summons to the task found him engrossed in pursuits as foreign to the investigations necessary for this work, a.s any department of knowledge that can be mentioned ; and though the study of critical and exegetical theology had, at a former period, been to him an object of regular attention, the invitation of this work seemed so uncongenial to his adopted pursuits, that he rejected it promptly ; nor was it until after repeated and urgent solicitations, that he consented to undertake it. But even then, so little aware was he of the inexhaustible richness of his noble subject, that he commenced his re- searches with oft-expressed doubts, whether it would admit of such ample disquisition as was hoped by the original proposer. How just those doubts were, may be best learned from the hurried and brief notice which many important points in this great theme have necessarily received within such narrow limits. Begun under these unfavorable au.spices, the work was an object of pursuit with him through a long period of time ; nor did his investigations proceed far, before he was fully assured that it was vast, beyond his highest expectations; and from that time the difficulty has been, not to meet the expectation of a large book, but to bring- these immense materials within this limited space. Growing thus in his hands, b PREFACE. tlmmgh months and years, his work soon increased also in its interest to him, till in the progress of time, amid various other contem]X)raneous occupations, it rose liom the character of a task to that of a delightful, a dignified, and dignifying pur.-^uit ; and he was soon disposed to look on it not as a labor, but as a recreation Irom voca- tions less congenial to his taste. It called him fiist from the study of a profession, sickening and distasteful in many of its particulars ; and it was his frequent resource for enjoyment in many a season of repose. His attention was often distracted from it, by calls to diverse and opposite pursuits, — by turns to the public labors and respon- sibilities of an editor and an instructor ; but in the midst of these it was his solace and refreshment, till at last it wholly drew him away from everything besides itself, and became lor months his sole, constant, absorbing and exhausting occupation. Too olten, indeed, were the pm-suits with which it was at iir.'^t varied and inter- changed, the occasion of disturbances and anxieties that did anything but fit him lor the comfortable pursuit of his noble task; yet these evils themselves became the means of inspiring him with a higher and purer regard for it, because they drove him to this, as an only coasolation. As was most eloquently and beautifully said by evangelical George Home, at the conclusion of a similar task, — " And now, could »he author flatter himself, that any one would take half the pleasure in reading the work, which he had taken in writing it, he would not fear the loss of his labor." Well would it be, both for the wTiter and his work, if he could truly add, in the me- lodious sentence which Home subjoins, that " the employment detached him from the bustle and hurry of life, the din of politics, and the noise of tolly ;" — that " vanity and vexation flew away for a season, — care and disquietude came not nigh his dwell- ing." The MATERIALS of this work should be found in all that has been written on the subject of the New Testament history, since the .scriptural canon was completed. But " who is sufficient for these things "?" A long life might fijid abundant emplo}Tnent in searching a thousand libraries, and in compiling from a hundred thousand volumes, the facts and illustrations of this immense and noble subject; and then the best energies of another long life would be needed to bring the mighty masses into fonn, and give them in a narrative for the mind of the unlearned. What, then, is here attempted, as a substitute for this immensity 1 To give a clear, distinct, narrative of each apostle's life, with such illustrations of the character of the era and the .scene in which the inci- dents occurred, and such explanations of the terms in which they are recorded, as may, consistently with the limits of this book, be drawn Irom those works of the learned of ancient and modern times, which are within the Avriter's reach. Various and nume- rous are the books that swell the list of faithful and honest relereuces ; many and weighty the volumes that have been turned over, in the long course of research ; ancient and venerable the dust, which has been shaken into suiibcating clouds about tire seajcher's head, and has obscured his vision, as he dragged many a forgotten folio from the slum- ber of ages, to furnish the modern compiler with the rich productions of antique lore. Histories, travels, geographies, maps, commentaries, criticisms, introductions, and lexicons, have been " daily and nightly turned in the hand ;" and of this labor some fruit is offered on every page. But the unstained source of sacred history ! the pure well-spring, at which the wearied searcher always refreshed himself, after unrequited toils through dry masses of erudition, was the simple story of the Apostles and Evangelists, told by themselves. In this same simple storj^, indeed, were found the points on which the longest labor was required; yet these, at best only illustrated, not improved, by all the labors of the learned of various ages, were the materials of the work. These were the preparations of months and years ; the execution must decide on their real value. The office of an Apostolic historian becomes at once most arduous and most im- portant, and the usefulness of his labor is most fully showTi, in passages where the task of weaving the various threads and scraps of sacred history in an even, continuous and uniform text, is one to which few readers, taking the parts detailed in the ordinary way, are competent, and which requires for its satisfactory achievement, more aids from the long-accumulated labors of the learned of past ages, than are within the reach of any but a favored lew. To pass back and forth from gospel to gospel, in the search after order and consistency, — to bring the lights of other history to clear up the obscurities, and show that which fills up the deficiencies of the gospel "history, — to add the helps of ancient and modern travelers in tracing the topography of the Bible, — to find in lexi- cons, commentaries, criticisms and interpretations, the true and full force of every word of those passages in which an important fact is expressed, — these are a few of PREFACE. 7 the writer's duties in giving to common readers the results of the mental efforts of the theologians of this and past ages, Avhose copyist and ti'anslator he frequently is. Often aiming, however, at an effort somewhat higher than that of giving the opinions and Uioughts of others, he offers his own account and arrangement of the subject, in pre- ference to those of the learned, as being free from such considerations as are involved in technicalities above the appreciation of ordinary readers, and as standing in a con- nected naiTative tbrm, while the information on these points, found in the works of eminent Biblical scholars, is mostly in detached fragments, which, however complete to the student, require much explanation and illustration, to make them useful or inter- esting to the majority of readers. In the discussion of particular points, reference has been properly made to the authority of others, where necessary to explain or support. In the narrative of the lives of the Twelve, tlie author has been driven entirely to the labor of new research and composition, because the task of composing complete biogra- phies of those personages had never before been undertaken on so large a scale. Cave's Lives of the Apostles, the only work that has ever gone over that ground, is much more limited in object and extent than the task here undertaken, and afforded no aid whatever to the author of this work, in those biographies. Both the text and the notes of that part of the work are entirely new, — nothing whatever, except a few ac- knowledged quotations, in those narratives, having ever appeared before on this subject. A list of the works which were resorted to in the prosecution of this new labor, would fill many pages, and would answer no useful purpose, after the numerous references made to each source in connexion with the passages which were thence derived. It is sufficient in justice to himself to say that all those references were made by the author himself; nor in one instance, that can now be recollected, did he quote second-hand without acknowledging the intermediate source. In the second part of the work, the labor was in a iield more completely occupied by previous labor. But throughout that part of the work also, the whole text of the narrative is original ; and all the fruits of others' research are, with hardly one exception, credited in the notes, both to the original, and to llij medium through which they were derived. In this portion of the work, much labor has been saved, by making use of the very full illustrations given in the works of those who had preceded the author on the life of Paul, whose biography has frequently received the attention and labor of the learned. The following have been most useful in this part of the work. " Hermanni Witsii Meletemata Leidensia," Par. 1. " VitaPauli Apostoli." 4to. Leidiae, 1703. — " Der Apostel Pardus. Von J. T. Hemsen." 8vo. Gottingen, 1830. — " Pearson's Annals of Paul, translated, with notes, by Jackson Muspratt Williams." l2mo. Cambridge (Eng.), 1827. — Bloomfield's Armotations, or " Recensio Synopsis." Much valuable matter contained in the two fij.st, however, was excluded by want of room. It will be noticed that throughout the book, the text is on many pages broken by matter thrown in at the ends of paragraphs, in smaller t}^e. The design is, that these notes, thus running through the body of the work, shall contain such particulars as would too much break the thread of the story if made a part of the common text, and yet are of the highest importance as illustrations, explanations and proofs of passages in the history. In many places, there has been need of references to history, antiquities, topography, and various collateral helps, to make the story understood. All these things are here given in minute type, proportioned to the minuteness of the investiga- tion therein followed. Being separated in this way, they need be no hindrance to those who do not wish t-o learn the reasons and proofs of things, since all such can pa.ss them by at once, and keep the thread of the narrative, in the larger type, unbroken. The different sizes and arrangements of type indicate the varieties of subject and matter. The main narrative, or general text, is in " Small Pica type, leaded;" the history of the writings of the Apostles, or books of the New Testament, is in the same t^^pe, " solid," or without leads ; the faiulous history of the Apostles is in " Long Primer type ;" the only pa.ssage taken from the manuscript of another author is in " Bourgeois type ;" and the notes, or commentaries on the narratives, are in " Brevier." The book is believed to be entirely free from typographical errors. Certain pecu- liarities in orthography are based on analogical reasons elsewhere given. New Haven, December 24, 1835. The foregoing statements accompanied the first edition of this work, published in New Haven, January 1, 1836. In the course of that year, tl^c book was stereotj'ped, with large additions and corrections ; and seve ral editions, amounting to seven thousanc 8 PREFACE. copies, were issued from that date to 18-10. By the general difficulties then obstructing all departments of business, the former publishers became involved ; and the stereotyiw plates were, lor nearly six years, so held as to prevent their use in the publication, which has consequently been suspended during that period, though a considerable demand for the book has continued. Within a few weeks, the author has been enabled to become the proprietor of the stereotype plates ; and he has availed himself of the facilities thus alfurded (with the liberal aid of the capable and enterprising publishers whose names appear on the title-page) to offer the present edition to tlie public. Many important improvements have been made in the stereotype plates. The read- ings, revisions and reflections of the la-st ten years have been exercised on the correction of the work ; and however far short of satisfying the writer or the reader it may still be, it contains no errors which are merely the result of haste, or want of deliberation. Its incompleteness cannot be remedied without a material addition to the bulk and expense. In every change of diversified occupation, since the first production of this worK, the author has made it his constant effort to discover its imperfections, and correct its errors. Hoping continually to be able to resume its publication, he has, with unceasing solici- tude and ever-freshening interest, labored to make it more worthy of the favor of the learned and the public, and of the solemn importance of the subject. It has still been what it was during its composition, — a source of enjoyment and benefit that can hardly be expressed. The labor of comparing its statements and opinions with those of reve- lation has been productive of advantage to him, equal to any that can ever be derived from it by the most favored reader. The conviction and feeling of the honesty, beauty, and perfection of the sacred record, from which its facts have been mostly drawn, have deepened as he has searched again and again for hidden or neglected historic truths. No new pmsuit has approached it in interest, or excluded it wholly from meditation. His happiest days have been passed in these studies ; and every other occupation has .seem- ed tedious and trifling in comparison with them. They have been the .solace of care, the refreshment of a toil-worn mind, the inspiration of other and uncongenial efibrts, a " consolation in travel," and a companionship in many solitudes. They most prema- turely began in youth, and have been gratefully renewed in manhood, through every change of scene, in this and other lands, amid the throng of the city, over the wide ocean, on torrid shores, on " missionary ground," and on the borders of the Great Desert. That the twelve years which have passed since the commencement of the task should have failed to produce, in its accomplishment, the satisfaction of all expectations, is a consequence of inherent defects of capacity, not want of sincerity or industry, in the writer. More may be sought in these pages than was designed to be furnished. It is not ofiered as a professional, clerical work, or as a series of sermons upon the historical parts of the New Testament. It does not invade the duties of the church or the pulpit. In style, substance, and purpose, it is a secular work, — a history of sacred things, designed to interest men of the world, of whatever opinion or negation of opinion. Peculiarities in its matter and manner, which might be censured by a hasty judgment, are justified by its object and professed chjiracter. That it has not wholly failed to minister also to the uses of those more deeply interested in such things, appears from the favor with which it has been received by eminent scholars and venerated clergymen, both living and dead, as well as by members of nearly every denomination of those " who profess and call themselves Christians." City of New York, March 4, 1846. THE LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. PLAN AND SCOPE OF THE WORK. THE NAME. The "word apostle has been adopted into all the languages of Christendom, from the Greek, in which the earliest records of the Christian history are given to us. In that language, the cor- responding word is derived from a verb which means " fit out " or " equip off," so that the primary meaning of the derivative is " one equipped off," "fitted out," "instructed forth." In all uses, this sense is kept in view. Of its ordinary meanings, the most frequent was that of "a person employed at a distance to execute the commands, or exercise the authority, of the supreme power," in which sense it was appropriated as the title of an embassador, and of a naval commander ; and it is used to designate these offices by the classic Grecian writers. In reference to its general, and probably not to any technical meaning, it was applied by Jesus Christ to those of his followers who were made the objects of his most careful instruction, preparation, and commission, that they, thus equipped^ might go into all the world, to preach the gospel to every creature. The use of the term in connexion with this high and holy commission, did not give it such a character of peculiar sanctity or dignity as to limit its application among Christians of the early ages, to the chosen ministers of Christ's own appointment ; but it is applied even in the writings of the New Testament, as well as by Grecian and Latin Fathers, to other less eminent persons, who might be included under its primary meaning. It was also extended, in the peculiar sense in which Christ first applied it, 2 10 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. from the twelve, to other eminent and successful preachers of the gospel who were contemporary with them, and to some of their successors. Apostle.— The most distant theme to which this word can be certainly traced, in Greek, is the verb ErtXXw, {Stello,) which enters into the composition of 'Arrotrn'AXa), {Apostello,) from which apostle is direqtly derived. In tracing the minute and dis- tant etymologv of EtcXXm, {Stello,) it is worth noticing, that the first elements of tlie word make the radical st, which is at once recognised, by Oriental scholars, as identical with the Sanscrit and Persian root st, which, in those and all the Indo- European languages, is remarkable for entering into the composition of a vast num- ber of words, whose primary idea is "fixity," and this is, therefore, the ground- meaning of this prime root. In these languages, its combinations are very apparent ; as in Greek Erdoi.) With the masculine termination, Herodotus, applying it to persons, uses it first in the sense of "embassador," or "herald," in Clio, 21, where relating that Halyattes, king of Lydia, sent a herald (7f)«|, kerux) to treat for a truce with the Milesians, he mentions his arrival under this synonymous term. " So the apostolos (affdo-ToXos) came to Miletus." ('O ntv fn aTraaro'Koi ci TTiv MiAijroi; rji/.) In Terpsichore, 38, he uses the same term. " Aristagoras the Milesian went to Lacedaemon by ship, as embassador (or delegate) from the assembly of Ionic tyrants," {AnocTo'Sos cyivsro.) These two passages are the earliest Greek in which I can find this word, and it is worth noticing here, that the word in the masculine form was distinctly applied to persons, in the sense given as the primary one in the text of this book. But, still maintaining in its uses the general idea of "equipped and sent," it was not confined, in the ever-changing usage of the flexible Greeks, to individual persons alone. In reference to its expression of the idea of "distant destination," it was applied by later writers to naval expeditions, and in the speeches of Demosthenes, who fre- quently uses the word, it is entirely confined to the meaning of a "warlike expedi- tion,/^a/, sent in command of a distant expedition. Demosthenes, Hesychius. ... 5. A brideman — the person who, in the arrangements of a Grecian wedding, was sent by the bridegroom to wait upon the bride from her father's house to her husband's. (This use of the word does not occur in any of the extant classics, as far as I know ; but the fact that it was thus used in classic days, is preserved by Phavorinus, or Favorinus, a lexicographer of the age of Adrian.) Witsius. Melet. Leid., Vit. Paul. ii. 17. The common classical name for this bridal attendant was, Nv/j^oywydy, {^Nwnpluigogos.) In the New Testament, it is applied only to persons, and is never used for inanimate things. There are various classes of persons to whom this term is thus applied. — I. Those commissioned and sent directly from God to man. In this sense it is applied (1.) to Jesus, Heb. iii. 1. This passage was distinctly explained by Chrysostom, Theophylact, and Theodoret, as referring to the primary general meaning of the word, and not to any previous application to any person or set of persons. (See their expositions, as given in Suicer's Thesaur. Ecc. in voce. I. 1.) (2.) It is applied indefi- nitely to persons sent from God, where they are classed together without individual- ization. Luke xi. 49 ; P^ev. ii. 2, &c. — II. Those directly commissioned to the work of spreading the gospel; among whom are noticeable three distinct divisions: (1.) The twelve chief disciples, chosen personally by Jesus Christ in bodily form, (except Matthias,) — all Galileans, (Acts i. 11; ii. 7, &c.) — enjoying his personal instructions, counsels, and warnings; and made the eyewitnesses of his wonderful works throughout the whole period of his public ministry. (2.) The two later apos- tles, (Actsxiv. 4. 14,) Paul and Barnabas, — personally unknown to Jesus, (probably,) or at least never enjoying his peculiar instructions, nor honored by his personal corn- mission, but distinctly summoned by the Holy Spirit, (Acts xiii. 2, 4,) the former, also, in a vision by Jesus, (Acts xxvi. 16, 17,) — both Hellenists, or Jews brought up among the Gentiles. — and speaking, reading, and writing the Greek language. — III. Those commissioned and summoned to the gospel work only by human agencies, and altogether uninspired, and Urns of inferior rank as Christian ministers, and called APosTLE.s, not in the sense in which the twelve, and Paul and Barnabas, were thus named, but in the mere common meaning of the Greek word, as " messengers" between Paul and the churciies. — These are thus incidentally mentioned in but two or three places. — Titus and his companion employed in collecting the contributions of the churches, (2 Cor. viii. 23,) — Epaphrodiius, (Philippians ii. 25.) Perhaps also Andro- nicus and Juntas, (Juni« in the common versions.) See Schleusner, Bretschneider, Wahl, and Rosenmuller. (Rom. xvi. 7.) In the writings of the Christian Fathers, the name is still farther extended to per- sons of inferior rank, being applied indefinitely to all ministers or pastors of the church, who are (fitted, equipped, and) sent to preach the gospel. (J. C. Suicer. Thes. Ecc. in voce.) Salvianus, of Gaul, in the preface to his book on avarice, calls Timothy an apostle ; and Pachymeres does the same. (De coel. Hierarchia. II.) Hydatius, or Idatius, in his Fasti Consulares, quoted by Barthius, (Advers. LI. iv.) speaks of Timothy as an apostle, and also of Luke, associating him and Andrew under the title of Apostles. The old calendar of the Greek church speaks of Phile- mon and Archippus as apostles; and mentions the appointment of the seventy apostles by Jesus. (Luke xi. 1. 17.) It even includes Apphia, a female, among them; and Theophanes, (Horn. 30,') says of Mary Magdalene, that, in announcing the resur- rection of Jesus Christ, " sne became an apostle to the apostles." By writers of far earner date, and much higher authority, the term is, with peculiar justice, applied to 16 * LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. Mark and Luke, the fellow-laborers of Peter, Paul, and Barnabas, and inspired as the •writers of the gospels. Eusebius (Hist. Ecc. II. 24) calls "Mark., the apostle and evangelist ;" and (I. 13) calls Thaddeus an apostle. In the Synopsis ascribed to Athanasius, Luke is called "the blessed ajjostle and physician." But Suicer does not seem to know these three passages. Another very peculiar usage in the early ecclesiastical writers, is in application to things b)'^ a metonymy from the persons, naming the work from the author. It is used as the name of the epistolary portion of the New Testament, which, in the ancient liturgies, was divided into the Gospel and the Apostles, corresponding to the Law and the Prophets — the principal divisions of the Hebrew scriptures. This part of the ancient liturgy being made up mostly of the epistles of Paul, was therefore named in the singular number, and with the early Fathers, is often used for the writings of this apostle alone. Origen, quoted by Eusebiu.s, (H. E. vi. 38,) and Theodoret, (Haeret. fab. ii. 7,) use the term in this sense. In application to the liturgy, Cyiil of Scj-^thopolis, (in Vit. Sabae,) and Codinus, (cap. vi.) are quoted by Suicer. On the usages of this word, among the Fathers, Suicer is by no means so full as might be expected; and many valuable references, in addition, are obtained from H. Valesius, (Annotat. in Euseb. H. E. I. 12, II. 24, pp. 21 and 41, of the Mayence edition, 1672.) He quotes Eusebius (I. 12) as distinctly saying, that though, by Jesus Christ, the twelve only were called apostles, yet the term was afterward ex- tended to very many others, in imitation of the twelve: (TrXci'orcai/ Sooiv viran^uvTav 'Avo<7t6\o}v, Kara jiinr^aiv tCiv (Jo'i&zca.) Valcsius quotcs also Epiplianius, Jerome, Hilary, the Theodosian code, and Metaphrastes, for the various extensions of the term. By the Jews, of the early ages of the Christian era, the term d-6aTo\oi was applied to a class of officers among them, described by Eusebius, as employed to bear the circulars addressed by the chiefs of the Jewish faith at Jerusalem, to the Jews through- out the world. Oecumenius is also quoted to the same effect, as to this use of the term. (See Suicer and Valesius, in loc. cit.) By the law-writers, both Roman and Byzantine, the name nn-cJcrroXoi (in the plural) is used in a technical sense, not in application to persons, but to things, being made equivalent to the Latin term, " literae dimissoriae," which were " letters of appeal," by which a cause was transferred from one tribunal to a higher one. (Basilic. V. — Julius Paulus Patavinus. Sent. V. 34. — Brisson, De significatione verborum. IV. "Dimissoriae."— Meursius, Gloss, in voce. — Suicer, Thes. Ecc. in voce. 6.) These are all the significations which this word bears in the writings of the classic, the scriptural, the ecclesiastical, and the legal writers ; nor has it, as far as I know, ever been used in any other sense or application. No other work has ever pre- sented all these meanings, here collected ; and those who can consult Stephens's The- saurus Linguae Graecae, Suicer's Thesaurus Ecclesiasticus, Stock's, Schleusner's, Parkhursl's, Bretschneider's and Wahl's Lexicons of the New Testament, will find, that though each of these great works has contributed to the completeness of this view, yet no one of them contains even a majority of the particulars ; and that there are here many peculiarities of arrangement which difier from those and all other authorities. I The corresponding Hebrew word, was r.iVar or n>'7iy (sheludhh, or shclidhh,) whose primary meaning, like the ordinary sense of the Greek word, is " one sent," and is derived, from the passive Kal participle of the verb nSa* {sha lahh,) meaning " he sent." This word is often used in the Old Testament, and is usually translated in the Alex- andrine Greek version, by the word aromoXos. A remarkable instance occurs in 1 Kings xiv. G; where the prophet Ahijah, .speaking to the wife of Jeroboam, says, nVif ■'^:n T'Vn " to thee am I sent;" the Alexandrine version gives the noun dTrdaroXos, so as to makeit literally "to thee I am an apostle," or "embassador;" or truly^ in the just and primary sense of this Greek word, " to thee I am commissioned and sent.'' This passage is a valuable illustration of the use of the same Greek word in John 3uii. 16, as above quoted. Aquila, also, in his Greek version of the Old Testament, has translated the He- brew ■\"'s (<.sr/-,) by this word in Isaiah xviii. 2, Avhere the English translation gives *' embassadors," — a word which, of course, implies some dignity and trust, above a mere messenger's office. Both of these Hebrew words imply this peculiar force; and Schleusner (see Lex. N. T. in voc.) says, that the former, in particular, has the meaning, " not of a mere messenger, but of a representative vicegerent." The Hebrews had another word also, which they used in the sense of an apostle or messenger. This was inVd (mat ak,) derived from a verb which means " send," sc that the primary meaning of this also is " one sent." It was commonly appropri- ^ PLAN AND SCOPE. 17 ated to angels, but was sometimes a title of prophets and priests. (Haggai i. 19: Malachi ii. 7.) It was, on the whole, the most dignified term, the first-menlionea being never applied to angels, but restricted to men. The first and last of these terms are very fairly represented by the two Greek words, diruVroXos and ayytXof, in English, "apostle" and " angel," the latter, like its corresponding Hebrew term, being some- times applied to the human servants of God. In the dificrent translations of the Bible, it appears that the ancient translators into the Shemitish languages, have represented the Greek word, by that word in each of their languages, which seemed to them a fair expression of the original. These Shemitish languages being all of the same stock as the Hebrew, express this idea by the same word, already referred to as the common Hebrew term for " apostle." Thus the Syriac (ihe oldest translation ever made of the New Testament) has |..Ki-*.Si.Jft {skcliMo,) evidently the same word modified in termination, to suit the genius of the dialect. The ancient Arabic and Persian translators have given the word VL _^-**^ (s7da,) also from the same root. The Ethiopic is probably like the other Shemitish languages in the version of this word ; but my ignorance of the letters of that language, prevents me from speaking with certainty. Of the Coptic, Armenian, and other ancient Oriental versions, I can say nothing. But the Western, and all the modern versions of the New Testament, have univer- sally avoided translating the Greek word by any correspondent expressive term in their own language, and have adopted the original word, with such a change of form and termination as the genius of each language required. Thus the Latin presented the Greek apostolos, almost unchanged, in apostolus ; the Italian has apostolo ; the ^'^d.-aiih. apostol ; the Portuguese oj^os^eZo ; the French cpos^re ; the English apostle; the German, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, &c. apostel ; the Polish apostol ; and probably all other modern languages, into which the New Testament has been translated, would show, to an Adelung or a Vater, this same word in a hundred varying forms. THE PERSONS. The term apostle^ in modem Christian usage, is hmited to the twelve chief disciples of Jesus Christ, and to those two of their most eminent associates, who are distinguished by this title in the Acts of the Apostles. The scope of the term in the scheme of this work is somewhat extended by including, along with the second class of apostles, certain of their most eminent fellow-workers and fellow- partakers in the gifts of inspiration, to whom, in the writings of the early Christian Fathers, the honors of the apostohc name are also conceded. From the different origins, circumstances, labors, and characters of the first chosen apostles, and those called after the ascension of Jesus, arises an occasion for dividing the true apostles into two natural orders, whose biographies will constitute two totally distinct and independent divisions of their historian's work. From the circumstances of the origin, habits, and sectional peculiarities of each, these two classes are here named ; — the coun- tries where they originated furnishing the distinctive appellations. The original chosen followers of Jesus are named Galileans, from their native province ; and the later teachers of the Christian faitli, having been born and educated in the regions of Hellenic re- finement, are named Hellenists, in accordance with the name applied to them by the Jews of Palestine. 3 18 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. I. The Galilean apostles are — Simon Peter, and Andrew his brother, — James and John, the sons of Zebedee, — Philip, — Bartholomew, — Matthew, — Thomas, — James, the son of Al- pheus, — Simon Zelotes, — Jude, the brother of James, — and Judas Iscariot, whose place was afterwards filled by Matthias. II. The Hellenist apostles are — Paul and Barnabas, with whom are included their companions, Mark and Luke, the evan gelists. These two classes of apostles are distinguished from each other, mainly, by the circumstances of the appointment of each ; the former being all directly appointed by Jesus himself, (excepting Matthias, who took the forfeited commission of Judas Iscariot,) while the latter were summoned to the duties of the apostleship after the ascension of Christ ; so that they, however highly equipped for the labors of the office, had never enjoyed his personal instruc- tions ; and however well assured of the divine summons to preach the gospel to the Gentiles, theirs was not a distinct personal and bodily commission, formally given to them, and repeatedly enforced and renewed, as it was to the chosen ones of Christ's own appoint- ment. These later apostles, too, with hardly one exception, were foreign Jews, born and brought up beyond the bounds of the land of Israel, while the twelve were all Galileans, whose homes were v/ithin the holy precincts of their fathers' ancient heritage. Yet if the extent of their labors be regarded, the later commissioned must rank far above the twelve. Almost two thirds of the New Testament were written by Paul and his companions ; and before one of those commissioned by Jesus to go into all the world on their great errand, had ever gone west of the boundary of Palestine, Paul, accompanied either by Barnabas, Mark, Silas, or Luke, had gone over Syria and Asia, traversed the sea into Greece, Mace- donia, and Illyria, bringing the knowledge of the word of truth to tens of thousands, who would never have heard of it, if they had been made to wait for its communication by the twelve. This he did through constant toils, dangers, and sufferings, which as far transcended all which the Galilean apostles had endured, as the mighty results of his labors did the immediate effects of theirs. And afterwards, while they were struggling with the paltry and vexatious tyranny of the Sanhedrim, within the walls of Jerusalem, Paul was utterinq- the solemn truths of his high commission before governors and a king, making them to tremble with doubt and awe ; and, finally, bearing, in bonds and through perils, the name of Jesus WS PLAN AND SCOPE. 19 to the capital of the world, he sounded the call of the gospel at the gates of Caesar. The Galilean apostles were indued with no natural advantages for communicating freely with foreigners; their language, habits, customs, and modes of instruction, were all hindrances in the way of a rapid and successful progress in such a labor ; and they with great wilhngness gave up this vast field to the Hellenist preachers, while they occupied themselves, for the most part, in the conversion of the dwellers of Palestine and the East. For all the subtleties and mysticisms of these Orientals, they were abundantly provided ; the whole training which they had received, under the personal instructions of their teacher, had fitted them mainly for this very warfare ; and they had seen him, times without number, sweep away all these refuges of lies. But, with the polished and truly learned philosophers of Athens, or the majestic lords of Rome, they would have felt the want of that minute knowledge of the characters and manners of both Greeks and Romans, with which Paul was so familiar, by the circumstances of his birth and education in a city highly favored by Roman laws and Grecian philosophy. Thus was it wisely ordained, for the complete foundation and rapid extension of the gospel cause, that for each great field of labor there should be a distinct set of men, each peculiarly well fitted for their own depart- ment of the mighty work. And by such divinely sagacious appointments, the certain and resistless advance of the faith of Christ was so secured, and so wonderfully extended beyond the deepest knowledge, and above the brightest hopes of its chief apostles, that at this distant day, in this distant land, far beyond the view even of the prophetic eye of that age, millions of a race unknown to them, place their names above all others, but one, on earth and in heaven ; and to spread the knowledge of the minute details of their toils and triumphs, the laborious investigator must now search the recorded learning of eighteen hundred years, to do justice to the story of their lives. With such limitations and expansions of the term, then, this book attempts to give the history of the lives of the apostles. Of some who are thus designated, little else than the names being known, — they can have no claim for a large space on these pages ; while to a few, whose actions determined the destiny of millions, and mainly effected the establishment of the Christian faith, the far greater part of the work will be given. 20 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. THE WORLD IN THE APOSTOLIC AGE. ROMAN CONQUEST. A VIEW OF THE WORLD, as it was at the time when the apos- tles began the work of spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ, may be convenient to remind some readers, and necessary to in- form others, in what way its political organization operated to aid or hinder the advance of the faith. The peculiarities of the go- vernment of the regions of civilization were closely involved in the progress of this religious revolution, and may be considered as having been, on the whole, most desirably disposed for the triumph- ant establishment of the dominion of Christ. From the shores of the Atlantic to the banks of the Euphrates, the sway of the Roman Caesar was acknowledged by the millions of Western and Southern Europe, Northern Africa and South- western Asia. The strong grasp of warlike power was a bond which held together in peace many nations, who, but for that con- stramt, would, as their previous and subsequent history shows, have been arrayed against each other, in contests, destructive alike of the happiness of the contending parties and the comfort of their neighbors. The mighty force of Roman genius had overcome the thousand barriers which nature and art had reared between the different nations of the three continents in which it ruled, and the passage from one end of that vast empire to the other, was without any hindrance to those who traveled on errands of peace. Bloody wars, long distracting the tribes of Gaul, Germany, and Britain, had rendered those grand sections of Europe impassable, and shut up each little tribe within a narrow boundary, which could never be crossed but with fire and sword. The deadly and furious contests dmong the nations of Southwestern Asia and Southeastern Europe, had long discouraged the philosophical and commercial enterprise, once of old so rife and free among them, and offered a serious hindrance to the traveler, whether journey- ing for information or trade ; thus greatly checking the spread of knowledge, and limiting each nation, in a great measure, to its own resources in science and art. Roman conquest, burying in one wide tomb all the jealousies and strifes of aspiring national ambition, thus put an end at once to all these causes of separation : it brought long-divided nations into close union and acquaintance, THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 21 and produced a more extensive and equal diffusion of knowledge, as well as greater facilities for commercial intercourse, than had ever been enjoyed before. The rapid result of the coiiquerors' policy was the consolidation of the various nations of that vast em- pire into one people, — peaceful, prosperous, and for the most part protected in their personal and domestic rights. The savage was tamed, the wanderers were reclaimed from the forest, which fell before the march of civilization, — or from the desert, which soon rejoiced and blossomed under the mighty beneficence of Roman power. The fierce Gaul forsook his savage hut and dress together, robing himself in the graceful toga of the Roman citizen, or the light tunic of the colonial cultivator, and reared his solid and lofty dwelling in clustering cities or flourishing villages, whose deep foundations yet endure, in testimony of the nature of Roman con- quest and civilization. Under his Roman rulers and patrons, he raised piles of art, unequaled in grandeur, beauty, and durability, by any similar works in the world. Aqueducts and theatres, still only in incipient ruin, proclaim, in their slow decay, the greatness of those who reai'ed them in a land so lately savage. .^ T The Pont du Gard, at Nismes, and the amphitheatres, temples, arches, gates, baths, bridges, and mausolea, which still adorn that city, and Aries, Vienne, Rheims, Be- sancon, Autun, and Metz, are the instances to which I direct those whose knowledge of antiquity is not sufficient to suggest these splendid remains. Almost any well written book of travels in France will give the striking details of their present con- dition. Malte-Brun also slightly alludes to them, and may be consulted by those who wish to learn more of the proofs of my assertion than this brief notice can give. The warlike Numidian and the wild Mauritanian, under the same iron instruction, had long ago learned to robe their primitive half-nakedness in the decent garments of civilized man. Even tthe distant Getulian found the high range of Atlas no sure barrier against the wave of triumphant arms and arts, which rolled resist- lessly over him, and spent itself only on the pathless sands of wide Sahara. So far did that all-subduing genius spread its work, and so deeply did it make its marks, beyond the most distant and im- pervious boundary of modern civilization, that the latest march of discovery has found far earlier adventurers before it, even in the Great Desert ; and within a dozen years, European travelers have brought to our Imowledge walls and inscriptions, which, after mouldering unknown in the dry, lonely waste, for ages, at last met the astonished eyes of these gazers, with the still striking witness of Roman power. 22 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. The travels of Denham and Clapperton across the desert, from Tripoli to Bor- nou, — of Ritchie and Lyon, to Fezzan, — of Hornemann, and others, will abundantly illustrate this passage. Eg5T)t, already twice classic, and renowned through two mighty and distant series of ages, renewed her fading glories under new conquerors, no less worthy to possess and adorn the land of the Pharaohs, than were the Ptolemies. In that ancient home of art, the new conquerors achieved works, inferior indeed to the still lasting monuments of earlier greatness, but no less effectual in securing the ornament and defence of the land. With a warlike; genius far surpassing the most triumphant energy of former rulers, the legionaries of Rome made the valley of the Nile, from its moutli to the eighth cataract, safe and wealthy. The desert wanderers, whose hordes had once overwhelmed the throne of the Pharaohs, and baffled the revenge of the Macedonian monarchs, were now crushed, curbed, or driven into the wilds ; while the peaceful tiller of the ground, secure against their lawless attacks, brought his rich harvests to a fair and certain market, through the ports and million ships of the Mediterranean, to the gate of his noble con- querors, within the capital of the world. The conquest of Nubia and Meroe by Caius Petronius, in the reign of Augustus, is the principal of those triumphs to which this paragraph refers ; and the numerous defeats of the Nomadic hordes of the deserts on both sides of the Nile are attested in the incidental notices of that country's history. (Plin. Hist. Nat. vi. 29.) — It was imder R-oman sway, that Eg)'pt first acquired the name of the "granary of the ■world." A trifling illustration of this exportation may be noticed in Acts xxvii. G, 38 ; xxviii. 11. The ships in which Paul made his voyage to Rome were grain-ships from Egypt to Italy.— Strab, Geog. xvii. The grinding tyranny of the barbarian despots of Pontus, Arme- nia, and Syria, had, one after another, been swept away before the republican hosts of Sylla, Lucullus, and Pompey ; and the remorse- less, stupid selfishness that has always characterized oriental despot- ism, even to this day, had been followed by the mild and generous exercise of that almost onmipotent sway, which the condition of the people, in most cases, showed to have been administered, in the main, for the good of its subjects. The case of Verres will perhaps rise to the minds of some of my readers, as op- posed to this favo.^able view of Roman government; but the whole account of this and similar tyranny shows that such cases were looked on as most remarkable enor- mities, and they are recorded and noticed in such terms of abhorrence, as to justify US in quoting with peculiar force, the maxim, " Exceptio probat regulam." On the farthest eastern boundary of the empire, the Parthian, fighting as he fled, held out against the advance of the western conquerors, in a harassing and harassed independence. Here the flight of Roman victory was first stayed, and here the con- THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 23 querors of Crassus long " rode unpunished," in spite of the strains of prophetic adulation with which Horace soothed the baffled ambition of the imperial Augustus. The momentary eastern conquests of Trajan were no real extension of the empire ; and the primeval seats of power, — Assyria and Chaldea, were held under Parthian and Persian sway till long after the fall of Rome ; while still farther east, the Indian and the Tibetan dwelt through countless ages, safe from western conquest, without so much as a dream about the im- perial sway to which the servile prophecies of Roman poets had devoted them. Central and Southern Arabia, then, as ever, own- ing no foreign lord, bounded on the south the oriental dominions of Rome. On the north, the ever indomitable Scythian held un- disturbed possession of the wild wastes where the hosts of the first Darius had been baffled ; but such regions, offering no mducement for civilizing enterprise, never invited the notice of that overwhelm- ing genius which instinctively directed its energies only to coun- tries where natural capabilities for civilization were obvious. Thus while the Parthian, the Arab, and the Scythian escaped con- quest, by the nature of their respective countries, the no less war- like and resolute Dacian, German, and Celt were made to yield the dominion of their more hopeful soil. The mountains and forests of central Europe, and of North-Britain, too, were indeed still manfully defended by their savage oAvners ; nor was it until they met the iron hosts of Germanicus, Trajan, and Agricola, that they, in their turn, fell under the last triumphs of the Roman eagle. But the peace and prosperity of the empire, and even of provinces near the scene, were not moved by these disturbances. And thus, in a longitudinal line of four thousand miles, and within a circuit of ten thousand, the energies of Roman genius had hushed all wars, and stilled the nations into a long unbroken peace, which secured the universal good. So nearly true was the lyric descrip- tion, given by Milton, of the universal peace which attended the coming of the Messiah : " No war or battle sound Was heard the world around ; The idle spear and shield were high uphung; The hooked chariot stood, Unstained with hostile blood, The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still, with awful eye. As if they surely knew their sovran lord was by." The efforts of the conquerors did not cease with the mere mili- tary subjugation of a country, but were extended far beyond the 24 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. extinction of the hostile force. The Roman soldier was not a mere fighter ; nor were his labors, out of the conflict, confined to the erection of military works only. The stern discipline, which made his arras triumphant in the day of battle, had also taught him cheerfully to exchange those triumphant arms for the tools of peaceful labor, that he might insure the solid permanency of his conquests, by the perfection of such works as would make tran- quillity desirable to the conquered, and soothe them to repose under a dominion which so effectually secured their good. Roads, that have made Roman ways proverbial, and which the perfection of modern art has never equaled, reached from the capital to the far- thest bounds of the empire. Seas, long dangerous and almost im- passable for the trader and enterprising voyager, were swept ot every piratical vessel ; and the most distant channels of the Aegean and Levant, where the corsair long ruled triumphant, both before and since, became as safe as the porches of the Capitol. Regions, to which nature had furnished the indispensable gift of water, nei- ther in abundance nor purity, were soon blessed with artificial rivers, flowing over mighty arches, that will crumble only with the pyramids. In the dry places of Africa and Asia, as well as in distant Gaul, mighty aqueducts and gushing fountains refreshed the feverish traveler, and gave reality to the poetical prophecy, that " In the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert." Roads. — I was at first disposed to make some few exceptions to this sweeping com- mendation of the excellence of Roman roads, by referring simply to my general impressions of the comparative perfection of these and modern works of the same character ; but on revising the facts by an examination of authorities, I have been led to strike out the exceptions. Napoleon's great road over the Simplon, the great northern road from London to Edinburgh, and some similar works in Austria, seemed, before comparison, in extent, durability, and in their triumphs over nature, to equal, if not surpass, the famed Roman ways; but a reference to the minute de- scriptions of these mighty works, sets the ancient far above the modern art. The Via Appia, " regin-a viaruni," {Papinius Statins Surrent. Pollii,) stretching three hundred and seventy miles from Rome to the bounds of Italy, built of squared stone, as hard as flints, and brought from a great distance, so laid together that for miles they seemed but a single stone, and so solidly fixed, that at this day, the road is as entire in many places as when first made.— the Via Flaminia, built in the same solid manner,— the" Via Aemilia, five hundred and twenty-seven miles long,— the Via Portuensis, with its enormous double cause-way,— the vaulted roads of Puzzuoli and Baiae, hewn half a league through the solid rock, — and the thousand remains of similar and contemporaneous works in various parts of the M^orld, where some are in use even to this day, as far better than any modern highway, — all these are enough to show the inquirer, that the commendation given to these works in the text, is not overwrought nor unmerited. The minute details of the construction of these extraor- dinary works, with many other interesting particulars, may be much more fully learned in Rees's Cyclopaedia, Articles Way, Via, Road, Ajypian, &c. Aquediicts. — The common authorities on this subject, refer to none of these mighty Roman works, except those around the city of Rome itself Those of Nismes and Metz, in Gaul, and that of Segorv^ia, in Spain, are sometimes mentioned ; but the THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 25 reader would be led to suppose, that other portions of the Roman empire were not blessed with these noble works. Rees's Cyclopaedia is very lull on this head, in re- spect to the aqueducts of the great city itself, but conveys the impression that they were not known in many distant parts of the empire. Montfaucon gives no more satisfactory information on the subject. But a reference to books of travels or topog- raphy, which describe the remains of Roman art in its ancient provinces in Africa and Asia, will at once give a vivid impression of the extent and frequency of these works. Shaw's travels in northern Africa, give accounts of aqueducts, cisterns, fountains, and reservoirs, along through all the ancient Roman dominions in that region. The Modern Traveler (by Conder) will give abundant accounts of the re- mains of these works, iu this and various other countries alluded to in the text ; and some of them, still so perfect, as to serve the common uses of the inhabitants to this day. In Palestine, Syria, Asia Minor, and even in Greece and Egypt, to this day the monuments of Roman dominion vindicate the glory of their authors, by the re- markable convcnictice and utilitnj, as well as solidity and finish, which distinguish all these remains of Roman art. CAESAR, Christ's forerunner. All these mighty influences, working for the peace and comfort of mankind, and so favorable to the spread of religious knowledge, had been further secured by the triumphant and firm establish- ment of the throne of the Caesars. Under the alternating sway of the aristocracy and democracy of Rome, conquest had indeed steadily stretched east, west, north, and south, alike over barbarian and Greek, through the wilderness and the city. A long line of illus- trious consuls, such as Marcellus, the Scipios, Aemilius, Marius, Sylla, Lucullus, and Pompey, had, during the last two centuries of the republic, added triumph to triumph in bright succession, thronging the streets of the seven-hilled city with captive kings, and more than quadrupling her dominion. But while the cor- ruption of conquest was fast preparing the dissipated people to make a willing exchange of their political privileges, for " bread and amusements/' the more enhghtened of the citizens were getting tired of the distracting and often bloody changes of popular favoritism, and were ready to receive as a welcome deliverer, any man who could give them the calm repose of a despotism, in place of the remorseless and ferocious tyranny of a brutal mob. In this turn of the world's destiny, there arose one in all points equal to the task of sealing both justice and peace to the vanquished nations, by wringing from the hands of a haughty people, the same political power which they had caused so many to give up to their un- sparmg gripe. He was one who, while, to conmaon eyes, he seemed devoting the flower of his youth and the strength of his manhood to idleness and debauchery, was learning such wisdom as could never have been learned in the lessons of the sage, — wisdom in the characters, the capabilities, the corruption, and venality of his pie- 26 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. beian sovrans. And yet he was not one who scorned the instruc- tions of the learned, nor turned away from the records of others' Imowledge. In the schools of Rhodes, he sat, a patient student of the art and science of the orator, and searched deeply into the stored treasures of Grecian philosophy. Resplendent in arms as in arts, he devoted to swift and deserved destruction the pirates of the Aegean, while yet only a raw student ; and with the same energy and rapidity, in Rome, attained the peaceful triumphs of the eloquence which had so long been his study. The flight of years passed over him, alike victorious in the factious strife of the capital, and in the deadly struggle with the Celtic savages of Northwestern Europe. Ruling long-conquered Spain in peace, and subjugating still barbarous Gaul, he showed the same ascendant genius which made the greatest minds of Rome his willing and despised tools, and crushed them when they at last dreamed of independence or resistance. In the art military, supreme and unconquered, whether met by the desperate savage of the forest or desert, or by the veteran legions of republican Rome, — in the arts of intrigue, more than a match for the subtlest deceivers of a jealous democracy, — as an orator, winning the hearts and turning the thoughts of those who were the hearers of Cicero, — as a writer, unmatched even in that Ciceronian age, for strength and flowing ease, though writing in a camp, amid the fatigues of a savage warfare, — in all the accom- plishments that adorn and soften, and in all the manly exercises that ennoble and strengthen, alike complete, — in battle, in storm, on the ocean and on land, in the collected fury of the charge, and the sudden shock of the surprise, always dauntless and cool, show- ing a courage never shaken, though so often tried, — to his friends kind and generous, — to his vanquished foes, without exception, merciful and forgiving, — beloved by the former, respected by the latter, and adored by the people, — a scholar, an astronomer, a poet, a wit, a gallant, an orator, a statesman, a warrior, a governor, a monarch, — his vast and various attainments, so wonderful in that wonderful age, have secured to him, from the great of his own and all following times, the undeniable name of the most perfect CHARACTER OF ALL ANTiciuiTY, Sucli a man was CAIUS JULIUS CAESAR, He saved the people from themselves ; he freed them from their own tyranny, and ended for ever, in Rome, the power of the populace to meddle with the disposal of the great interests of the consolidated nations of the empire. It was nece«- sary that it should be so. The empire was too vast for an ignorant THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 27 and stupid democracy to govern. The safety and comfort of the world required a better rule ; and never was any man, in the course of Providence, more wonderfully prepared as the instrument of a mighty work, than was Julius Caesar, as the founder of a throne Avhich was to be coeval with the political dominion of Rome. For the accomplishment of this wonderful purpose, every one of his countless excellences seems to have done something ; and nothing less than he, could have thus achieved a task, which prepared the way for the advance of a power, that was to outlast his throne and the Eternal city. Under the controlling influence of his genius, the world was so calmed, subjugated, and arranged, that the gates of all nations were opened for the peaceful entrance of the preachers of the gospel. So solidly did he lay the founda- tion of his dominion, that even his own murder, by the objects of his undeserved clemency, made not the slightest change in the fate of Rome ; for the paltry intrigues and fights of a few years ended in placing the power which Caesar had won, in the hands of his heir and namesake, whose most glorious triumphs were but straws on the mighty stream of events, which Julius had set in motion. Caesar. — Those who are accustomed merely to the common cant of many would- be philanthropists, about the destruction of the liberties of Rome, and the bloody- minded atrocity of their destroyer, will doubtless feel shocked at the favorable view taken of his character above. The truth is, there was no liberty in Rome for Caesar to destroy: the question of political freedom having been long before settled in the triumphant ascendency of faction, the only choice was between one tyrant and ten thousand. No one can question that Caesar was the fair choice of the great mass of the people. They were always on his side, in opposition to the aristocracy, who sought his ruin because they considered him dangerous to their privileges, and their liberty (to tyrannize;) and their fears were grounded on the very circumstance that the vast majority of the people were for him. This was the condition of parties until Caesar's death, and long afier, to the time of the final triumph of Octavius. Not one of Caesar's friends among the people ever became his enemy, or considered him as having betrayed their affection by his a.ssumptions of power. Those who murdered him, and plunged the world from a happy, universal peace, into the devastating hor- rors of a wide-spread and protracted civil war, were not the patriotic avengers of an oppressed people ; they were the jealous supporters of a haughty aristocracy, who saw their powers and dignity diminished, in being shared with numbers of the lower orders, added to the senate by Caesar : and his steady determination to humble them, they saw in his refusal to pay them homage by rising, when the hereditary aris- tocracy of Rome took their seats in the senate. It was to redeem the failing powers of their piiv;leged order, that these aristocratic assassins murdered the man whose mercy had triumphed over his prudence, in sparing the forfeited lives of those heredi- tar}', dangerous foes of popular rights. Nor could they for a moment blind the people to the nature and object of their action ; for as soon as the murder had been committed, the universal cry for justice, which rose at once from the whole mass of the people, indignant at the butchery of their friend, drove the gang of conspirators from Pcome and from Italy, which they were never permitted again to enter. Those who thronged to the standard of the heir and friend of Caesar, were the hosts of the democracy, that never rested till they had crushed and exterminated the miserable faetion of aristocrats, who had hoped to triumph over the mass of the people, by the 28 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. death of the people's great friend. Now if the people of Rome chose to give up their ■whole power, and the disposal of their political affairs, into the hands of a great, a talented, a generous, and heroic man, like Caesar, who had so effectually vindicated and secured their freedom against the claims of a domineering aristocracy, and if they afterward remained so well satisfied with the use which he made of this power, as never to make the slightest effort, nor on any occasion to express the least wish, to resume it, I would like to know who had any business to hinder the sovran people from so doing, or what blame can in any way be laid to Caesar's charge, for accept- ing, and for nobly and generously using the power so freely and heartily given up to him. The protracted detail of his mental and physical greatness, given in the sketch of his character above, would need for its full defence and illustration, the mention of such numerous particulars, that I must be content with challenging any doubter, to a reference to the record of the actions of his life ; and such a reference will abun- dantly confirm every particular of the description. The steady and unanimous de- cision of the learned and the truly great of different ages, since his time, is enough to show his solid claims to the highest praise here given. Passing over the glory so uniformly yielded to him by the learned and eloquent of ancient days, we have among moderns the disinterested opinions of such men as the immortal Lord Verulam, from whom came the sentence given above, pronouncing him " the most complete character of all antiquity ;" a sentiment which, probably, no man of minute historical know- ledge ever read without a hearty acquiescence. This opinion has been quoted with approbation by our own greatest statesman, Alexanoei ilamilton, than whom none knew belter how to appreciate real greatness. Lord Byron (Note 47 on Canto IV. of Childe Harold) also quotes this sentence approvingly, and in the saine passage gives a most interesting view of Caesar's versatile genius and varied accomplish- ments, entering more fully into some particulars than that here given. The sentence of the Roman historian, Suetonius, {Jure caesus existimetur,) seems to me, to refer not to the moral fitness or actual right of his murder, but to the common laio or an- cient usage of Rome, by which any person of great influence, who was considered powerful enough to be dangerous to the ascendency of the patrician rank, or to the established order of things in any way, might be killed by any self-constituted execu- tioner, even though the person thus murdered on bare suspicion of a liability to be- come dangerous, should really be innocent of the charge of aspiring to supreme power. (" Melium jwre caesum pronuntiavit, e^ittTO si regni crimine insons fuerit." Liv. lib. iv. cap. 48.) The idea that such an abominable outrage on the claim of an innocent man to his own life, could ever be seriously defended as morally rig/it, is too palpably preposterous to bear a consideration. Such a principle of policy must have originated in a republicanism, somewhat similar to that which tolerates those expres- sions of public opinion, which have lately become famous under the name of Lynch law. It was a principle which in Rome enabled the patrician order to secure the de- struction of any popular man of genius and intelligence, who, being able, might become willing to effect a revolution which would humble the power of the patrician aristocracy. The murder of the Gracchi, also, may be taken as a fair specimen of the Lynch-law way in which the aristocracy were disposed to check the spirit of reform. The work of Caesar, then, was twofold, like the tyranny which he was to subvert; and well did he achieve both objects of his mighty efforts. Having first brought down the pride and the power of an overbearing aristocracy, he next, by the force of the same dominant genius, wrested the ill-wielded dominion from the unsteady hands of the fickle democracy, making them willingly subservient to the great pur- pose of their own subjugation, and acquiescent in the generous sway of one, whom a sort of political instinct taught them to fix on, as the man destined to rule them. Thus were the complicated and contradictory principles of Roman government exchanged for the simplicity of monarchical rule; an exchange most desirable for the peace and security of the subjects of the government. The empire was no longer shaken with the constant vacillations of .supremacy from the aristocracy to the de. raocracy, and from the democracy to the demagogues, alternately their tyrants and their slaves. The solitary tyranny of an emperor was occeisionally found terrible in some of its details; but the worst of the.se could never outgo the republican cruel- ties of Marius and Sylla ; and there was, at least, this one advantage on the side of those suffering under the monarchical tyranny, which would not be available in the case of the victims of mob-despotism :— this was— the ease with which a single stroke THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 29 with a -well-aimed dagger conld remove the evil at once, and secure some cnance of a change for the better, as was the case with Caligula, Nero, and Domitian; and though the advantages of the change -were much more manifest in the two latter cases than in the former, yet, even in that, the relief experienced softened the cnme. But a whole tyrannical populace could not be so easily and summarily disposed of; and those who suffered by such despotism, could only wait till the horrid butch- eries of civil strife, or the wasting carnage of foreign warfare, had used up the ener- gies and the superfluous blood of the populace, and swept the flower of the demo- cracy, by legions, to a wide and quiet grave. The remedy of the evil was therefore much slower, and more undesirable in its operation, in this case than in the other; ■while the evil itself was actually more widely injurious. For, on the one hand, what imperial cyrant ever sacrificed so many victims in Rome, or produced such wide-wasting ruin, as either of those republican chiefs, Marius and Syllal And on the other hand, when, in the most glorious and peaceful days of the aristocratic or democratic sway, did military glory, literature, science, art, commerce, and the whole common weal, so flourish and advance, as under the imperial Augustus, the sage Vespasian and the amiable Titus, the heroic Trajan, the polished Adrian, or the wise and philosophic Antonines ] Never did Rome wear the aspect of a truly majestic cit)', till the imperial pride of her long line of Caesars had filled her with the temples, amphitheatres, circuses, aqueducts, baths, triumphal columns and arches, which to this day perpetuate the solid glory of the founders, and make her the won- der of the world, — while not oue surviving great work of taste claims a republican for its author. To such a glory did the Caesars raise her, and from such a splendor did she fade, as now. I " Such is the moral of all human tales ; V 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, — First freedom, and then glory; — when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption, — barbarism at last; i And history, with all her volumes vast, [ Hath but one page." An allusion to such a man, in such a book as this, could not be justified, but on this satisfactory ground ; — that the changes which he wrought in the Roman government, and the conquests by which he spread and secured the influence of Roman civilization, seem to have done more than any other political action could do, to effect the general diffusion, and the perpetuity of the Christian faith, A glance at these great events, in this light, will show to us the first imperial Caesar, as Christ's most mighty precursor, un- wittingly preparing the way for the advance of the Messiah, — a bloody and all-crushmg warrior, opening the path for the equally resistless triumphs of the Prince of Peace. Even this striking characteristic of cool and unscrupulous ambition, became a most efficient means for the production of this strange result. This same moral obtuseness, too, about the right of conquest, so hein- ous in the light of modern ethics, but so blameless and even praise-worthy in the eyes of the good and great of Caesar's days, shows us how low was the world's standard of right befoie the coming of Christ ; and yet this insensibility became, in the hands of the God who causes the wrath of man to praise him, a doubly pow- erful means of spreading that faith whose essence is love to man. ^. 30 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. Look over the world, then, as it was before the Roman con- quest, and see the diflicultics, both physical and moral, that would liaA'e attended the universal diffusion of a new and peaceful reli- gious faith. Barbarous nations, all over the three continents, warring with each other, and with the failing outworks of civil- ization,— besotted tyranny, wearing out the energies of its subjects, by selfish, ruinous, and all-grasping folly, — sea and land swarming, with marauders, and every wheel of science and commerce roll- ing backward or breaking down. Such was the seemingly resist- less course of events, when the star of Roman fortune rose in the ascendant, under whose influence, at once destructive and benign, the advancing hosts of barbarity were checked and overthrown, and their triumphs stayed for five hundred years ; the elegance of Grecian refinement was transplanted from the degraded land of its birth, to Italian soil, and the most ancient tracks of com- merce, as well as many new ones, were made as safe as they are at this peaceful day. The mighty Caesar, last of all, casting down all thrones but his, and laying the deep basis of its lasting dominion in the solid good of millions, filled up the valleys, leveled the mountains, and smoothed the plains, for the march of that monarch, whose kingdom is without end. ROMAN AND CHRISTIAN TRIUMPHS. The connexion of such a political change with the success of the Christian enterprise, and with the perfect development and triumph of our peaceful faith, depends on the simple truth, that Cliristianity always flourishes best in the most highly civilized communities, and can never be so developed as to do full justice to its capabilities, in any state of society, short of the highest point of civilization. It never has been received and held incor- rupt, by mere savages or wanderers ; and it never can be. Thus and therefore it was, that wherever Roman conquest spread, and secured the lasting triumphs of civilization, thither Christianity followed, and flourished as on a congenial soil, — till at last not one land was left in the whole empire, where the eagle and the dove did not spread their wings in harmonious triumph. In all these lands, where Roman civilization prepared the way, Christian churches rose, and gathered within them the noble and the re- fined, as well as the humble and the poor. Spain, Gaul, Britain, and Africa, as well as the ancient homes of knowledge, Egypt, Greece, and Asia, are instances of this kind. And in every one THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 31 of these, the reign of the true faith became coeval with civihza- tion, — yielding in some instances, it is true, on the advance of modern barbarism, but only when the Arabian prophet made them bow before his sword. Yet while within the pale of Roman con- quest, Christi?jiity supplanted polytheism, beyond that wide circle, heathenism remained long undisturbed, till the victorious march of the barbarian conquerors over the empire of the Caesars, se- cured the extension of the gospel to them also, — the vanquished, in one sense, triumphing in turn over the victors, by making them the submissive subjects of Roman civihzation, language, and reli- gion ; — so that for the first five hundred years of the Christian, era, the dominion of the Caesars was the most efficient earthly in- strument for the extension of the faith. The persecutions which the followers of the new faith occasionally suffered, were the result of aberrations from the general principles of tolerance which char- acterized the religious policy of the empire ; and after a few such acts of insane cruelty, the natural course of reaction brought the persecuted religion into fast increasing and finally universal favor. If the religion, thus widely and lastingly diffused, was corrupted from the simplicity of the truth as it was in Jesus, this corruption is to be charged, not against the Romans, but against those un- worthy successors of the apostles and ancient fathers, who sought to make the severe beauty of the naked truth more acceptable to tlie heathenish fancies of the people, by robing it in the borrowed finery of mythology. Yet, though thus humiliated in its triumph, the victory of Christianity over that complex and dazzling religion, was most complete. The faith to which Italians and Greeks had been devoted for ages, — which had drawn its first and noblest principles from the mysterious sources of the antique Etruscan, Egyptian, and Phoenician, and had enriched its dark and bound- less plan with all that the varied superstitions of eveiy conquered people could furnish, — the faith which had rooted itself so deeply in the poetry, the patriotism, and the language of the Roman, and had so twined itself with every scene of his nation's glory, from the days of Romulus, — now gave way before the simple word of the carpenter of Nazareth, and was so torn up and swept away from its strongholds, that the very places which through twenty generations its triumphs had hallowed, were now turned into shrines for the worship of the God of despised Judah. So utterly was the Olympian Jove unseated, and cast down firom his long- dreaded throne, that his name passed away for ever from the wor- 32 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. ship of mankind, and has never been recalled, but with contempt. He, and all his motley train of gods and goddesses, are remembered no more with reverence ; but vanishing from even the knowledge of the mass of the people, are " Gone glimmering through the dream of things that were," — " A school-boy's tale." Every ancient device for the perpetuation of the long-established faith disappeared in the advancing light of the gospel. Temples, statues, oracles, festivals, and all the solemn paraphernalia of su- perstition, were swept to oblivion ; or, changing their names only, were made the instruments of recommending the new faith to the eyes of the common people. But, however tlie pliant spirit of the degenerate successors of the early fathers might bend to the vul- gar superstitions of the day, the establishment of the Christian religion, upon the ruins of Roman lieathenism, was effected with a completeness that left not the shadow of a name, nor the vestige of a form, to keep alive in the minds of the people the memory of the ancient religion. The words applied by our great poet to the time of Christ's birth, have something more than poet- ical force, as a description of the absolute extermination of these superstitions, both public and domestic, on the final triumph of Christianity. " The oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Rolls through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell." * * * " In consecrated earth And on the holy hearth, The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint ; In urns and altars round, A drear and dying sound Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; And the chill marble seems to sweat, While each peculiar power foregoes his wonted seat." Thus were the mighty labors of human ambition made sub- servient to the still greater achievments of divine benevolence ; thus did the unholy triumphs of the hosts of heathenism become, in the hands of the All-wise, the surest means of spreading the holy and peace-making truths of Christianity to the erids of the earth, — otherwise scarcely approachable without a miracle. The dominion which thus grew upon and over the vast empire of Rome, THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 33 tfiough growing with her growth and strengthening with her trength, sunk not with her weakness, — but, stretching abroad Ir "sh brandies, whose leaves were for the heahng of nations then unknown, showed its divine origin by its immortahty ; while, alas ! its human modifications betrayed themselves in its diminished grace and ill-preserved symmetry. Yet in spite of these, rather than by means of them, it rose still mightier above the ruins of the empire under whose shadow it had grown, till, at last, sup- planting Roman and Goth alike, it fixed its roots on the seven hills of the Eternal city ; where, thenceforth, for hundreds of years, the head of Christendom, ruling with a power more abso- lute than her imperial sway, saw more than the Roman world beneath him. Even to this day, vast and countless "regions, Caesar never knew," own him of Rome as " the Centre of unity j" and lands " farther west Than the Greek's islands of the blest," and farther east than the long-unpassed bounds of Roman con- quest, turn, with an adoration and awe immeasurably greater than the most exalted of the apotheosized Caesars ever received, to him who claims the name of the successor of the poor fisherman of Galilee. CANAAN IN THE APOSTOLIC AGE. The land of Israel was the true country of all the apostles ; for thence all Jews, throughout the world, had originally sprung ; and however changed in language and manners by gentile intercourse, they still sent back their hearts to that, as their father land, — deeming themselves but strangers and pilgrims in all other places where they might dwell or wander. A view of the condition of Palestine in the apostolic age will, therefore, be appropriate and interesting, as an illustration of many of the most important inci- dents in apostolic history, which were either wholly caused, or greatly affected, by the moral, religious, social, and political pecu- liarities of the country where the gospel work began, — peculiarities not less striking, nor less remarkably connected with the success of that work, than were those of the Roman world, as just sur- veyed. Palestine, though made the subject of Roman conquest as early as any of the countries around it, yet did not so wholly lose its national individuality as many that were conquered before ana 5 34 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. after it. The leading incidents in its previous history were so peculiarly connected with this circumstance, that a reference to them will help to show how a country, so limited in extent, and so feeble in political influence, should have been thus eminently favored above the great Syrian and Egyptian kingdoms. From the time when the records of the Old Testament close, for three hundred years, the land of Israel was the unresisting prey of the different conquerors, in whose path it lay, without an effort to vindicate its nationality, or to influence the fortune of those who contended for the possession of it. Alexander, and his successors in the empire of the East, Seleucus and Ptolemy, marched over it repeatedly, bringing it in this quiet manner, by turns, under the rising dominion of each new conqueror. Lying in the only direct land-route between Syria and Egypt, it was, for a century and a half, the chief scene of the bloody wars between the Seleucid and the Ptolemaic Idngs, without being itself actively involved in these contests. Both sets of its Macedonian conquerors, wisely regard- ing the peculiarities of the Jews, for a long time abstained from provoking them by any interference with that strange religion which so wonderfully distinguished them from all other nations of the world ; and the second Ptolemy even became a patron of their faith and their sacred literature. Thus left to the undis- turbed, and even promoted, enjoyment of that worship, which was the beginning, the end, and the essence of their national being, the Jews passed quietly from one foreign sway to another, as the fortune of war directed. The latent energies of the Hebrew character were, however, at last roused into tremendous and irre- sistible action, by the folly of one of its Syrian conquerors, who forgot the prudence of his predecessors so far as to attempt the introduction of Grecian idolatry in the place of the pure worship of the God of Abraham. The innovation almost immediately set the whole land in a blaze of rebellion, and the indignant spirit of Jewish patriotism, not yet wholly disembodied, though so long slumbering, broke forth first in the persons of the Maccabean brothers, who, after leading the hosts of Judah to conquest, and establishing the independence of their nation against both Syrians and Egyptians, received in succession the highest military, civil, and religious dominion, as the just reward of their heroism. The grateful people, after their fall in the battles of their national freedom, yielded the heritage of that nobly-earned doininion to the undeserving and degenerate descendents of the second of the THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 35 brothers : but the inheritance of a power now made both regal and sacerdotal, was not accompanied and sustained by the virtue of the founders of the hne. The Asamonean kings were a race of assassins and tyrants ; and to such a state did they bring the country by their family quarrels, and the wars that rose out of them, that their sway became a greater curse to the Jews than any foreign yoke that had left them the exercise of their religion. While the momentarily renewed glories of Judah were falling thus to decay and disgrace, under the degenerate Asamoneans, the eastward course of Roman conquest was sweeping through Asia, and had already subjugated all the Hellenic kingdoms north of Palestine. Pompey, on completing the conquest of Armenia, next turned his eyes soirthward, to the little kingdom which lay in his route to Egypt ; and before he could execute or contrive a scheme for securing so easy a triumph, the dissensions of two rival princes summoned him as the arbiter of their quarrel for the throne ; and in conformity with the ever-active Roman policy of fostering internal strife in foreign nations, — a policy which won them almost as many kingdoms as did their warlike genius, — Pompey instantly seized the fortunate occasion to enter Palestine with an army, to support his arbitration, and from that moment the country became an inseparable appendage of the Roman empire. The quarrel was decided by depriving both the brothers of the royal power, and, thenceforth, the contests among the princes consisted in intrigues for a tributary throne. The feeble and unfortunate Asamoneans, were, however, soon surpassed in this base contest, by a new set of competitors, from the house of Antipater, a Jew of obscure family, but of aspiring genius, whose ambitious intrigues prepared the way for the final triumph of his son Herod, over the last of the descendents of the Maccahees. In the successive contests between Pompey, Caesar, Cassius, Antony, and Octavius, the aspiring Herod, by a wonderful combination of art, boldness, cruelty, and good fortune, managed to keep such a hold on the supreme regard of each of these various arbiters of his destiny, that, through all the bloody changes which distracted every part of the Roman world, his power and honors steadily accumulated over all obstacles, till, at last, the triumphant establishment of Au2Tistus became coincident with the equally solid confirmation of Herod as the absolute sovran of all Palestine, over which he thenceforth reigned to his death, with only a nominal subjection to the empire of Rome, — a connexion, by which he insured the 3G LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. perfect security of his throne, without, in the slightest degree, im- pairing his real power. This was the gi*eat Herod, who ruled Judea at the time of the birth of Christ, and this was the pecuhar political character of that country, — between a province and a free state. The death of the great Herod did not at first mate- rially change the peculiar relation which his dominions bore to the great centre of empire. The authority of the Caesar was only invoked and exerted, to sanction the disposition which he made of his kingdom in his will ; but though the apportionment of the different sections among his favored sons, left all parts of Palestine the character of kingdoms, and not of provinces, still the independence and power of the whole was somewhat affected by this division. The dominions of the great Herod included all the region between the sea and Desert Arabia, limited north by Syria proper, and south by Rocky Arabia, — being in length one hundred and fifty miles, and in breadth seventy. By his testa- mentary apportionment, three grand divisions were made of this territory ; — the southern section, consisting of Judea proper, Sa- maria, and Idumea, was given to Archelaus, his oldest surviving son, with the title of king ; the northeastern section, consisting of all east of Lake Gennesaret and the Jordan north of it, (Gau- lanitis, Batanea, Iturea, Trachonitis, and Panias,) was given to Philip, his next son, with the title of tetrarch ; and the remaining section, — consisting of all Galilee proper, and of Peraea, or the region which lay east of the Jordan, from its mouth to lake Gen- nesaret,— was given to Antipas, his youngest son, with the title of tetrarch. This political division of the geography of Palestine deserves particular attention from the reader, connected as it is with many important points in the gospel narrative. The only essential change made in it, during the life of Jesus, was in the southern section, which, on the deserved expulsion of the feeble Archelaus, after ten years' reign, was converted into a Roman province ; — the holiest portion of Palestine thus losing first the forms of an independency, and submitting to the sway of an em- peror's procurator. Later political changes in this and the other sections, will be particularly noticed in those parts of the apostolic narrative with which they are connected. The religious condition of Palestine, in the apostolic age, ■ equally deserves notice, involved as it was in the whole scheme, scope, and history of the apostolic work. All the opposition which the gospel first met, arose from causes connected with the previous THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 37 State of sects and opinions among those to whom it weis first preached; for though the worldly ambition and the political jealousy of those who were then great in Israel, was the instant motive of this opposition, the origin of these dark feelings was in the peculiar religious government of the Jewish nation, making the jealous few the sole depositaries of spiritual power. For five hundred years, the voice of inspiration had been silent. The harp of prophecy slept with Malachi, at the rearing of the second temple ; and thenceforth the people of God's peculiar care were left to the teachings of the written word only, as set forth by the interpretations of human wisdom and learning. Soon the spirits of improving and refining generations began to rise, in longings after more systematic and complex doctrines than the simpler minds of the immediate hearers of the prophets had aspired to find in the bare and honest testimony of original inspiration. The ages of inspiration were not the ages of remarkable intel- lectual refinement ; the Israelites were, from the conquest of Canaan to the Chaldean captivity, in a state of semi-barbarism ; — the great mass of the people being wrapped in the enjoyments of a mere animal existence, while here and there rose from among them, teachers, of an order so much above the genius of the nation and the age, that the heavenly source of their inspiration was most effectually proved, in their exaltation above the bar- barism of their times. Still, the teachings of the prophets were of necessity accommodated to the rude character of their hearers, as far as the motives to the obedience of the truth were concerned. Their warnings, their denunciations, their promises, and their blessings, all referred to the circumstances of the present life ; and no joy or pain beyond the grave was imaged to the mind of the Israelite by his inspired teachers, in enjoining the practice of virtue, the preservation of a religion pure from the pollutions of idolatry, or the observance of the law of God, as revealed by Moses. The progress of refinement, in the course of succeeding ages, brought the Jewish nation into an intellectual elevation so far above their previous condition, that their improved moral per- ceptions soon moved them with an instinctive sense of the incom- pleteness of the revelation of the truth by the holy men who had spoken of old as they were moved by the Holy Spirit. The Chaldean, the Persian, and the Macedonian dominion over Pales- tine, all tended to this result. The influence of oriental and of Grecian philosophy thus made itself manifest in the modifications 38 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. of ancient Jewish faith, and in the large additions which were soon made to ancient opinions. Under the operation of these causes arose the first systematic and comprehensive view of the truths of rehgion, — in short, the first Jewish theology. The original teachings of inspiration had presented themselves in bursts of divine truth, as the spirit gave utterance on occasions of particular urgency; and the volume of the word of God, therefore, appeared in the form of a historical series of individual revelations, each accommodated to the special emergency that called it forth, — no one in particular pretending to give a complete system of religion, and the whole equally far from presenting a regularly arranged view of the truths actually revealed. The first theological efforts of the Jewish teachers seem to have consisted in a formal deduc- tion of the substance and the results of the whole course of the records of inspiration. But with these first occasions of the application of merely human wisdom, to the modification even of the forms of divine things, arose the first essential difference in creeds and in systems of religion ; and differences soon originated among the intelligent and discerning, on these matters, which soon led to the distinct formation and permanent foundation of religious SECTS. A brief view of the essential peculiarities of each of those denominations which divided the intelligent portion of the Jewish nation, in the apostolic age, will here, also, be of advantage to the reader. The Pharisees were the sect which had the predominance in numbers, in wealth, in learning, and in popular favor. Deriving their name from a Hebrew word, which means " separate," their grand distinctive characteristic was a complete withdrawal of themselves from the pollutions of worldly intercourse with those who disregarded the law of Moses ; and they were devoted, by profession at least, to the minute observance of the Levitical ritual, as well as to the practice of those virtues enjoined in all parts of the Hebrew scriptures. They were furthermore characterized by a profound reverence for the traditions of the Hebrew Fathers, re- ceiving their interpretations of the law, the prophets, and the devotional and historical scriptures, as authority decisive above appeal, and beyond all that the wisdom of more modern theologians could attain. They also professed to abstain from luxurious en- joyments, and to follow an entirely virtuous course of life. As to theological views, they were predestinarians, though not fatalists, — believing that the eternal decrees of God, and the free agency THE APOSTOLIC WORLD. 39 of man, were so arranged and harmonized, that every human being was left to his own choice between right and wrong. They beheved also in the immortality of the soul, in a future state, differing according to its moral deserts in this life, — the wicked being condemned to eternal imprisonment in hell, while the good were rewarded by the liberty of returning to life, at pleasure. These doctrines were, throughout, so acceptable to the people, that, in the apostolic age, the Pharisees were supreme in public favor, and by popular consent were made the guardians of the purity of the national religion, the directors of the ritual worship, and the authorized interpreters of the law. Such were their high professions of doctrinal orthodoxy, and devotional purity ; but, alas ! that in all ages, and in all similar circumstances, ultra-reli- gionists should be the same ! These solemn pretensions, so im- posing to the public eye, were but a hypocritical covering of the most narrow-minded bigotry and sectarianism, " compassing sea and land to make one proselyte," — of the most complete devotion to wealth, " devouring widows' houses, and for an atoning pretext, making long prayers, and giving alms in the synagogues, and in the corners of the streets," — of the most heartless and chilling formality, " paying tithe of mint, anise, and cummin," — observing all the external requisitions of the written law, and of conventional religious usage, but " omitting the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith," All these, and numerous other equally bitter testimonies, are borne against them by the indignant denunciations of him whose " word was truth ;" and who can doubt the justice of the description ? The picture drawn of the real practices of this sect in the gospel history, contrasted with the favorable representation of their creed and professions given by the Jewish historian, is so often justified by parallel instances of human depravity perverting the purity of religious truth, as to find a faithful comment in the observation of every discerning reader. The Pharisees were men whose glory was — the most perfect orthodoxy in doctrine, the most ancient authority in theo- logical views, the most devout and painful observance of rituals of public and private worship, the most regular and set obedience to the scriptural injunctions of charity and alms-giving ; they shut up the kingdom of heaven against all who did not conform to their ideal standard of doctrinal correctness, though, themselves excluded by the same test ; they hung their hopes for life and for death, for time and for eternity, on forms and creeds, on doctrines 6 40 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. and observances, on blamelessness of faith, and on conformity to the very letter of the divine law ; the voice of an admiring reli- gious public uttered the loud approval of their perfection ; and yet the sentence of the Supreme Judge of all the world denounced against them the assurance of a damnation as pre-eminent as their professions. The Sadducees were most prominently characterized by their negative peculiarities of belief. They rejected all the traditions which the Pharisees had added to the Old Testament, and by which they had, in too many instances, " made the law of no effect." They denied even the more noble doctrines inculcated by the Pharisaic teachers, — the resurrection of the dead, the exist- ence of the soul after death, the future retribution of the deeds of this life, the reality of spiritual beings, whether angels or demons, the predestination of events, and the providence of God. All these they rejected as mere human inventions, and as unau- thorized intermixtures of foreign doctrines, unknown to the inspired writers. The law of Moses and the prophetic scriptures were all that they received as the true word of God ; and these they maintained to be complete in doctrine and in moral precept, containing the whole duty of man. Their grand aim was the observance of a blameless morality, rather than the attainment of a complex system of theological belief; and the name of the sect, derived from a Hebrew word, which means " just," or " right- eous," was a fair expression of the sort of excellence which they professed to seek, — a moral rather than a theological perfection. In the pursuit of the truth, they were characterized by great freedom of investigation, and a total disregard of dogmatic au- thorities, whether ancient or modern ; and they are mentioned as' manifesting an equal freedom of discussion among themselves, *' accounting it noble to dispute even the teachers of the doctrines of their sect." This skeptical character acquired them such a reputation for contempt of popular notions, and predominant systems of belief, that the general voice of the Jewish world was against them ; and the select few, all of high rank and aristocratic families, who held this odious faith, were obliged by the force of public opinion to conform, in externals, to the Pharisaic doctrine, keeping their peculiarities within the limits of their own schools. They had, however, much power in the great national council of religion, and, for a long period, the highest sacerdotal offices almost entirely devolved on members of their sect. This power THE APOSTOIilC WORLD. 41 in the administration of law, they were very strict and harsh in using, being much more disposed to cruel and bloody measures than were the Pharisees, who were, on the contrary, distinguished for their comparative leniency in judicial proceedings, and for their general abhorrence of blood and capital punishments. The root of the name Pharisee is the Hebrew word <£'-ib (pharash,) — " separated." The name Sadducee is considered to be most justly derived from piif {Isaddik,) — " rig/Uctms" though some of the later Pharisaical Rabbins deny the rival sect so lionorable an etymon, and pretend to derive the word from the name of the supposed founder, Sadoc ; — an assertion without proof or reason. The authorities of this account of these two sects are the statements of Josephus, in different parts of his works, where he gives incidental notices of both Pharisees and Sadducees. (Ant. XIII. v. 9, and x. 6. XVIII. i. 3, 4.— War, II. ix. 14.) These two great sects were all that came distinctly in the way of Jesus Christ and his apostles, in their evangelizing work. Othei sects did, however, exist at that time ; but so limited in numbers, permanency, and locality, that they receive only an incidental mention in the gospel and apostolic history, or are entirely unno- ticed. The EssENEs, the third great sect, were a very peculiar people, living in a sort of monastic condition, and constituting isolated communities, — characterized by singularities of conduct also, as remarkable as their mode of life. They believed in the immortality of the soul, and the certain, immutable predestination of all events, the eternal punishment of the wicked, and the eternal happiness of the righteous. They were extremely ascetic in their habits and observances, devoting themselves wholly to the attainment of moral perfection, and to the cultivation of the fa- culties of the soul at the expense of bodily enjoyments. Cut off as they were from all direct connexion with the world, they are no where mentioned in gospel history as involved in the opposi- tion to Jesus which arose from the other sects. The Herodians were another class of men, of very opposite character, distinguished by nothing but a base conformity to the Greek and Roman fashions and customs, which had been introduced and encouraged among the Jews by the great Herod, who was desirous to polish the nation, by the influence of heathen refinements. This sect are only incidentally noticed in the gospel history, in a trifling way, suited to their insignificant character. Judas, the Gaulanite, on the other hand, stirred up some spirits of a ruder order, to a bold and furious resistence of all foreign influence and domination. This zealot sect was, of course, very brief in its continuance. Arising at the time when Judea was taken from Archelaus, and first reduced to the condition of a Roman province, they refused 42 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. to pay taxes to a Roman officer, and resisted by arms ; but the very first movement of a Roman legion was sufficient to scatter the rebelhous host, and leave them hardly a name. Thus had the chosen people of God, during the long with- drawal of the personal teachings of inspiration, been left to the various devices by which human wisdom sought to supply that new light, which their increasing refinement and progressive in- tellectual exaltation led them to seek. The incompleteness of the ancient revelation was instinctively felt ; but how far were their noblest efforts from that heavenly truth, the conception of which could never have entered into the heart of man, and which could be made known only from the divine source of original inspiration ! The scheme of redemption required a means of communication worthy of the character of the work, and therefore the Son of God was sent to proclaim the mighty truth, not merely in words, but by achieving in his own person the glorious work. The freshness and simplicity of the doctrine which he taught, though most effectually vindicating the purity and divinity of its origin, was yet so repulsive to the proud sectaries, that they refused to own the authority of one whose teachings aimed at the overthrow of all the elaborate systems which the wisdom of ages had reared ; and, therefore, the Redeemer turned away from those who aspired to a knowledge of the depths of divine mysteries, — from the high, the powerful, the wealthy, and the learned, — and sought for the instruments of the world's regeneration, in those whose simple and "unsophisticated minds were best prepared by humility and honesty, for the reception of truths so humiliating to pride, yet so exalting to the spirit of the meek and lowly. From such he chose the companions of his travels, of his labors, his watchings, his suf- ferings, and his perils, — the witnesses of the most wonderful and mysterious manifestations of his glory, — the especial objects of his instructions and prayers. Thus prepared, they were sent forth to fight the battles of a glorious freedom, — to lead the hosts of a pure faith against the intrenched defenders of ancient error, of superstitious fear, and wearisome observances. The unsophisti- cated mind of the rudely energetic Galilean could best appreciate the simple yet perfect beauty of the revelation, which so well at- tained and supplied the truth for which the minds of ages had vainly toiled ; and therefore of such was the kingdom of heaven. THE GALILEAN APOSTLES. SIMON CEPHAS, COMMONLY CALLED SIMON PETER. HIS APOSTOLIC RANK. The order in which the names of the apostles are arranged in this book, can make httle difference in the interest which their history will excite in the reader's mind, nor can such an arrange- ment, of itself, do much to affect his opinion of their comparative merits ; yet, to their biographer, it becomes a matter of some im- portance, as well as interest, to show not only authority, but reason, for the order in which he ranks them. ( SuiScient authority for placing Simon Cephas first, is found in the three lists of the apostles given respectively by Matthew, Mark, and Luke, which, though differing as to their arrangement in some particulars, entirely agree in giving to this apostle the precedence of all.^ But it would by no means become the earnest and faithful searcHer into sacred history, to rest satisfied with a bare reference to the unerring word, on a point of so much interest. So far from it, the strictest reverence for the sacred record both allows and urges the inquiry, as to what were the circumstances of Peter's life and character, that led the three evangelists thus unanimously and decidedly to place him at the head of the sacred band, on all whom, in common, rested the commissioned power of doing the marvelous works of Jesus, and spreading his gospel in all the world. Was this preference the result of mere incidental circum- stances, such as age and prior calling ? Or, does it mark a pre- eminence of character and qualifications, entitling him to lead and rule the apostolic company in the name of Christ, as the com- missioned chief of the faithful ? The reason of this preference, as far as connected with his character, will of course be best shown in the incidents of his life and conduct, as detailed in this narrative. But even here, much may be brought forward to throw light on the ground of Peter's 44 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. rank as first of the apostles. It is no more than fair to remark, however, that some points of this inquiry have been very deeply, and at the same time, very unnecessarily involved in the disputes between Protestants and Papists, respecting the original supremacy of the church of Rome, as supposed to have been founded or ruled by this chief apostle. One supposition which has been made to account for Peter's priority of station on the apostolic list, is — that he was by birth the oldest of the twelve. This assertion, however boldly made by some, rests entirely on conjecture, as we have no certain in- formation on this point, either from the New Testament or any ancient writer of indisputable credit. Those of the early Christian writers who allude to this matter, are quite contradictory in their statements, some supposing Peter to be the oldest of the apostles, and some supposing Andrew to be older than his brother ; — a dis- crepancy that may well entitle us to conclude that they had no certain information about the matter. The weight of testimony, however, seems rather against the assertion that Peter was the oldest, inasmuch as the earliest writer who alludes at all to the subject, very decidedly pronounces Andrew to have been the older brother. Enough, then, is known, to prevent our relying on his seniority as the true ground of his precedence. The oldest Christian writer, who refers in any way to the comparative age of Peter, is Epiphanius, bishop of Cyprus, as early as A. D. 368. In his great work against heresies, (II. i. heresy 51,) in narrating the call of 'Andrew and Peter,' he says, " The meeting (with Jesus) happened first to Andrew, Peter being less than him in age." {inKpoTcpov ovtos tcj xp^'^V ^''^ hXiKiai.') " But afterwards, when their com- plete forsaking of all earthly things is mentioned, Peter takes precedence, since God, who sees the turn of all characters, and knows who is fit for the highest places, chose Peter as the chief leader {apxiydv) of his disciples." This, certainly, is a very distinct assertion of Peter's juniority, and is plainly meant to give the idea that Peter's high rank among the apostles was due to a superiority of talent, which put him above those who were older. In favor of the assertion that Peter was older than Andrew, the earliest authority that has ever been cited, is John Chrysostom, bishop of Constantinople, about A. D, 400. This Father, in his homily on Matthew xvii. 27, (Hom. 59,) says that Peter was a " first-bom son," (vpojTdroKo;.) In this passage, he is speaking of the tribute paid by Jesus and Peter for the expenses of the temple. He supposes that this tribute was the redemption money due from the first-born sons of the Jews, for their exemp- tion from the duties of the priesthood. But the account of this tax, in Numbers iii. 44 — 51, shows that this was a tax of /I'e shekels apiece, while that spoken of by Matthew, is called the didrachmon, a Greek coin, equivalent to a ^//-shekel. Now the half-shekel tax was that paid by every Jew above the age of twenty years, for the expenses of the temple service, as is fully described in Eiiodus xxx. 12—16; xxxviii. 26. Josephus also mentions this half-shekel tax, as due from every Jew, for the service of the temple. (See Hammond on Matt. xvii. 24.) Chrj'sostom is therefore wholly in the wrong, about the nature of the tax paid by Jesus and Peter, (verse 27, " give it for me and thee ;") and the reason which he gives for the payment, (namely, that they were both first-born sons,) being disproved, his belief of Peter's seniority is shown to be based on an error, and therefore entitled to no credit whatever; more Particularly, when opposed to the older authority of Epiphanius. SIMON PETER. 45 Lardner, in support of the opinion that Peter was the oldest, quotes also Cassian and Bede ; but it is most manifest that a bare assertion of two writers, who lived, one of them 424, and the other 700 years after Christ, — an assertion unsupported by any proof whatever, — cannot be received as evidence in the case. The most natural con- jecture of any one who was accounting for the eminence of Peter, would be that he was older than the brother of whom he takes precedence so uniformly ; and it is no more than just to conclude, therefore, that the ground of this notion was but a mere guess. But in the case of Epiphanius, besides the respect due to the early authority, it is important to observe, that he could have no motive for inventing the notion of Andrew's seniority, since the imiform prominence of Peter would most naturally suggest the idea that he was the oldest. It is fair to conclude, then, that an opinion, so unlikely to be adopted without special proof, must have had the authority of uniform early tradition ; for Epiphanius mentions it as if it were a universally ad- mitted fact ; nor does he seem to me to have invented the notion of Andrew's seniority, to accoimt for his being first known to Jesus, though he mentions these two circum- stances in their natural connexion. Lardner, moreover, informs us, that Jerome maintains the opinion, that Peter was preferred before the other apostles on account of his age. But a reference to the original passage, shows that the comparison was only between Peter and John, and not between Peter and the rest of the apostles. Speaking of Peter as the constituted head of the church, he says, that was done to avoid dissensions {ut schisvialis tollatur occasio.) The question might then arise, why was not John chosen first, being so Sure and free from connexions that might interfere with apostolic duties 1 (Cur non ohannes electus est virgo 1 Aetati delatum est, quia Petrus senior- erat ; ne adhuc adolescens ac pene puer progressae aetatis hominibus praeferretur.) " It was out of regard to age, because Peter was older (than John ;) nor could one who was yet immature, and little more than a boy, be preferred to a man of mature age." The passage evidently does not touch the question of Peter's being the oldest of all, nor .loes it contradict, in any way, the opinion that Andrew was older ; as all which Jerome says is, merely, that Peter was older than John, — an opinion unquestionably accordant with the general voice of all ancient Christian tradition. Priority of calling has also been offered as the reason of this apparent superiority ; but the minute record given by the evan- gelist John, makes it undeniable that Andrew became acquainted with Jesus before Peter, and that the eminent disciple was after- wards first made known to Jesus by means of his less highly honored brother. The only reasonable supposition left, then, is, that there was an intentional preference of Simon Cephas, on the score of emi- nence for genius, zeal, knowledge, prudence, or some other quality which fitted him for taking the lead of the chief ministers of the Messiah. The word "Jirst,''^ which accompanies his name in l^atthew's hst, certainly appears to have some force above the mere tautological expression of a fact so very self-evident from the collocation, as that he was first on the list. The Bible shows not an instance of a list begun in that way, with this emphatic word so vainly and unmeaningly applied. The analogies of ex- pression in all languages, ancient and modern, would be very apt to lead a common reader to think that the numeral adjective thus prefixed, was meant to give the idea that Simon Peter was put first for some better reason than mere accident. Any person, in giving a list of twelve eminent men, all devoted to a common 40 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. pursuit, and laboring in one great cause, whose progress he was attempting to record, would, in arranging them, if he disregarded the circumstance of seniority, very naturally give them place ac- cording to their importance in reference to the great subject before him. If, as in the present case, three different persons should, in the course of such a work, make out such a list, an individual difference of opinion about a matter of mere personal preference, like this, might produce variations in the minor particulars ; but where all three united in giving to one and the same person, the first and most honorable place, the ordinary presumption would unavoidably be, that the prior rank of the person thus distinguished, was considered, by them at least, at the time when they wrote, as decidedly and indisputably established. The determination of a point so trifling, being without any influence on matters of faith and doctrine, each evangelist might, without detriment to the sanctity and authority of the record which he bears, be left to follow his own private opinion as to the most proper principle of arrangement to be followed in enumerating the apostles. Thus while it is noticeable that the whole twelve were disposed in six pairs, by each of the evangelists, yet the order and succession ol these is somewhat changed, by different circumstances directing the choice of each writer. Matthew modestly puts himself after Thomas, with whom he seems, by all the gospel lists, to have some close connexion ; but Mark and Luke combine to give Mat- thew the precedence, and invert the order by which, through unobtrusiveness, he had, as it would seem, robbed true merit of its due superiority. And yet these points of precedence were so little looked to, that in the first chapter of Acts, Luke makes a new arrangement of these names, advancing Thomas to the precedence, not only of Matthew, but of Bartholomew, who, in all other places where their names are given, is mentioned before him. So also Matthew prefers to mention the brothers together, and gives Andrew a place immediately after Peter ; although, in so many places after, he speaks of Peter, James, and John together, as most highly distinguished by Christ, and favored by opportunities of beholding him and his works, on occasions when other eyes were shut out. Mark, on the contrary, gives these names with more strict reference to distinction of rank, and mentions the favored trio together, first of all, — making the affinities of birth of less consequence than the share of favor enjoyed by each with the Messiah. Luke, in his gospel, follows Matthew's arrangement of SIMON PETER. 47 the brothers, but in the first chapter of Acts puts the three great apostles first, separating- Andrew from his brother, and mentioning him after the sons of Zebedee. These changes of arrangement, while they show of how little vital importance the order of names was considered, yet, by the uniform preservation of Peter in the first rank, prove that the exalted pre-eminence of Peter was so universally known and acknowledged, that, whatever diiference of opinion writers might entertain respecting more obscure persons, — as to him, no inversion of order could be permitted. How far Peter was by this pre-eminence endowed with any SUPREMACY over the other apostles, may of course be best shown in those places of his history which appear either to maintain or question this position. That Simon Cephas, or Peter, then, was the first or chief of the apostles, appears from the uniform precedence with which his name is honored on all occasions in the Scriptures, where the order in which names are mentioned could be made to depend on rank, — from the universal testimony of the Fathers, — and from the general impressions entertained on this point throughout the Christian world, in all ages since his time. HIS BIRTH. / From two separate passages in the gospels, we learn that the name of the father of Simon Peter was Jonah, but beyond this we have no direct information as to his family. From the terms in which Peter is frequently mentioned along with the other apos- tles, it may be justly inferred, however, that he was fi'om the lowest order of society, — which also appears from the business to which he devoted his life, before he received the summons that sent him forth to the world, on a far higher errand. Of such a humble family, he was born at Bethsaida, in Galilee, on or near the shore of the sea of Galilee, otherwise called lake Tiberias, or Gennesaret. Upon this lake he seems to have followed his labo- rious and dangerous livelihood, which very probably, in accord- ance with the hereditary succession of trades, common among the Jews, was the occupation of his father and ancestors before him. Of the time of his birth, no certain information can be had, as those who were able to inform us, were not disposed to set so high a value upon ages and dates, as the writers and readers of later times. The most reasonable conjecture as to his age, is, that he was about the same age with Jesus Christ ; which rests on the 7 48 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. circumstances of his being married at the period when he was called by Christ, — his being made the object of such high confi- dence and honor by his Master, — and the eminent standing which he seems to have maintained, from the first, among the apostles. Still there is nothing in all these circumstances, that is irrecon- cilable with the supposition that he was younger than Christ ; and if any reader prefers to suppose the period of his birth so much later, there is no important point in his history or character that will be affected by such a change of dates. Bethsaida. — The name of this place occurs in several passages of gospel history, as connected with the scenes of the life of Jesus. (Matt. xi. 21 ; Mark vi. 45, viii. 22 — 26; Luke xi. 10, x. 13; John i. 45, xii. 21.) The name likewise occurs in the writings of Josephus, who describes Bethsaida, and mentions some circumstances of its history. The common impression among the New Testament commentators has been, that the Bethsaida which is so often mentioned in the gospels, was on the western shore of lake Gennesaret, near the other cities which were the scenes of important events in the life of Jesus. Yet Josephus distinctly implies that Bethsaida was situated on the eastern shore of the lake, as he says that it was built by Philip the tetrarch, in Lower Gaulanitis, (Jewish War, book II. chapter ix. section 1,) which was on the eastern side of the Jordarx and the lake, though not in Peraea, as Light- foot rather hastily assumes ; for Peraea, though by its derivation (from nipav, peran, " beyond,") meaning simply " what was beyond" the river, yet was, in the geography of Palestine, applied to only that portion of the country east of Jordan, which extends from Moab on the south, northward, to Pella, on the Jabbok. (Josephus, Jewish War, book III. chap. iii. sect. 3.) Another point in which the account given by Jose- phus differs from that in the gospels, is — that while Josephus places Bethsaida in Gaulanitis, John (xii. 21) speaks of it distinctly as a city of Galilee, and Peter, as well as others born in Bethsaida, is called a Galilean. These two apparent disagree- ments have led many eminent writers to conclude that there were on and near the lake, two wholly different places bearing the name of Bethsaida. Schleusner, Bretsch- neider, Fischer, Pococke, Reland, Michaelis, Kuinoel, Piosenmiiller, Fritzsche, and others, have maintained this opinion. But Lightfoot, Cave, Calmet, Baillet, Mac- knight, Wells, and others, have decided that these differences can be perfectly recon- ciled, and all the circumstances related in the gospels made to agree with Josephus's account of the situation of Bethsaida. The first passage in which Josephus mentions this place, is in his Jewish Anti- quities, (XVIII. ii. 1.) " And he, (Philip,) having granted to the village of Beth- saida, near the lake of Gennesaret, the rank of a city, by increasing its population, and giving it importance in other ways, called it by "the name of Julia, the daughter of Caesar," (Augustus.) In his History of the Jewish War, (II. ix. 1,) he also alludes to it in a similar connexion. Speaking, as in the former passage, of the cities built by Herod and Philip in their tetrarchies, he says, " The latter built Julias, in Lower Gaulanitis." In the same history, (III. ix. 7,) describing the course of tlie Jordan, he alludes to this city. " Passing on (from lake Semechonitis) one hundred and twenty furlongs farther, to the city Julias, it flows through the middle of Lake Gen- nesar." In this passage I translate the preposition //c™ (mcla) by the English " to," though Hudson, Havercamp, and Oberthiir express it in Latin by "post," and Mac- kiiight by the English " behind." Whiston translates it still more freely, " by Beth- saida." (III. X. 7, of his division, which differs from lliat of Hudson, which is generally followed in these references in this book.) Lightfoot very freely renders it " ante ;" but with all these great authorities against me, I have the .satisfaction of finding my translation supported by the antique English version of the quaint Thomas Lodge, who distinctly expresses the preposition in this passage by " utito." This translation of the word is in strict accorrfance with the rule that this Greek preposi- tion, when it comes before the accusative after a verb of motion, has the force of " to" or " against." (See Jones's Lexicon, sub voc. fttru ; also Hederici Lex.) But in such connexions, it never has the meaning of ^'behind," given to it by Mac - knight; nor of "post," in Latin, as in Hudson and Havercamp; still less of " ante,'"* SIMON PETER. 49 as Lightfoot very qneerly expresses it. The passage, then, simply means, that the Jordan, after passing out of lake Semechonitis, flows one hundred and twenty fur- iongs lo the city of Julias or Bethsaida, (not bekitid it, nor before it,) and there enters ke Genuesar ; the whole expressing as clearly as may be, that Julias stood on the rr-er just where it widens into the lake. That Julias stood on the Jordan, and not on the lake, though near it, is made further manifest, by a remark made by Josephus, in his memoirs of his omti life. He, when holding a military command in the region around the lake, during the war against the Romans, on one occasion .sent against the enemy a detachment of soldiers, who " encamped near the river Jordan, about a furlong from Julias," (Life of Josephus, sect. 72.) It should be remarked, moreover, that, at the same time when Philip enlarged Bethsaida, in this manner, and gave it the name of Julia, the daughter of Augustus Caesar, his brother Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee and Peraea, with a similar ambition to exalt his owti glory, and secure the favor of the imperial family, rebuilt a city in his dominions, named Betharamphtha, to which he gave the name Julias also ; but in honor, not of the daughter, but of the wife of Augustus, who bore the family name, Julia, which passed from her to her daughter. This multiplication of namesake towns, has only created new confusion for us ; for the learned Lightfoot, in his Chorographic century on Matthew, has unfortimalely taken this for the Julias which stood on the Jordan, at its entrance into the lake, and accordingly applies to Julias-Betharamphtha, the last two quotations from Josephus, given above, which I have applied to Julias-Bethsaida. But it would seem as if this most profound Biblical scholar was certainly in the wrong here ; since Julias-Betharamphtha must have been built by Herod Antipas within his own dominions, tliat is, in Galilee proper, or Peraea proper, as already bounded ^ and Josephus expressly says that this Julias was in Peraea; yet Lightfoot, in his rude little wood-cut map, (Horae Heb. et Talm. in Mar., Decas Chorog. cap. v.) has put this in Gaulanitis, far north of its true place, at the influx of the Jordan into the lake, (" ad ipsissimum influxum Jordanis in lacitm Oennesariticum,") and Julias-Bethsaida, also in Gaulanitis, some miles lower down, at the south-east corner of the lak^e, a position adopted by no other writer that I know of. This peculiarity in Lightfoot's views, I have thus stated at length, that those who may refer to his Horae for more light, might not suppose a confusion in my statement, which does not exist; for since the Julias-Betharamphtha of Herod jcould not have been in Gaulanitis, tout in Peraea, the Julias at the influx of the Jordan into the lake, must have been the Bethsaida embellished by Philip, tetrarch of Iturea and Trachonitis, (Luke iii. 1,) which included Gaulanitis, Batanea, &c. east of Jor- dan and the lake, and north of Peraea proper. The substance of Josephus's informa- tion on this point, is, therefore, that Bethsaida stood on the eastern side of the Jordan, just where it enters lake Gennesar, or Gennesaret, (otherwise called lake Tiberias and the sea of Galilee,) — that it stood in the province of Gaulanitis, within the do- minions of Philip, son of Herod the Great, and tetrarch of all that portion of Pales- line, which lies north of Peraea, on the east of Jordan and the lake, as well as of the region north of Galilee, (his tetrarehy forming a sort of crescent,) — that this prince, having enlarged and embellished Bethsaida, raised it from a village to the rank of a city, by the name of Julias, in honor of Julia, daughter of Augustus Caesar. This was done during the reign of Augustus, (Josephus, in Jew. Ant. XVIII. ii. 1,) and of course long before Jesus Christ began his labors, though after his birth, because it was after the death of Herod the Great. The question now is — whether the Bethsaida mentioned by the evangelists is by ihem so described as to be in any way inconsistent with the account given by Jose- phus, of the place to which he gives that name. The first difficulty which has pre- sented itself to the critical commentators, on this point, is the fact, that the Bethsaida of the gospels is declared in them to have been a city of Galilee, (John xii. 21,) and those who were born and brought up in it are called Galileans, (Mark xiv. 70, Lulre xxii. 59, Acts i. 7, ii. 7.) Yet Josephus expressly tells us, that Bethsaida was in Gaulanitis, which was not in Galilee, as he bounds it, but was bej'ond its eastern boundar}', on the eastern side of the river and lake. (Ant. XVIII. ii. 1 : — War, III. iii. L) This is therefore considered by many, as a diversity between the two accounts, which must make it impossible to apply them both to the same place. But there is no necessity for such a conclusion. The different application of the term Galilee, in the two books, must be noticed, in order to avoid confusion. Josephus is very exact in the use of names of places and regions, defining geographical positions and boundaries with a particularity truly admirable. Thus, in mentioning the political divisions '^'^ Palestine, he gives the precise limits of each, and uses their names, not in the loose, 50 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. popular way, but, generally, in his own accurate sense. But the gospel writers are characterized by no such minute pariicularity, in tlie use of names, which they gene- rally apply in the popular, rather than the exact sense. Thus, in this case, they use the term Galilee, in what seems to have been its common meaning in Judea, as a name for all the region north ul' Samaria and Peraea, on both sides of the Jordan, including, of course, Gaulaniiis and all the dominions of Philip. The dill'ereuce between them and Josephus, on this point, is very satisfactorily shown in another passage. In Acts V. 37, Gamaliel, speaking of several persons who had at different times disturbed the peace of the nation, mentions one Judas, the Galilean, as a famous rebel. Now this same person is very particularly described by Josephus, (in his Jewish Antiquities, XVIII. i. 1 and 6. Hudson, Oberthiir, and Wliislon: also, in his Jewish War, II. viii. 1,) in such a manner, as to show his identity with the person mentioned by Gamalitl. Now Josephus calls him in the two last quoted passages, — " Judas the Galilean;'^ but, in Uie first, mentions him distinctly as " Judas the Gaulanite," and, particularizing the place of his birth, declares him to have been from the city of Gamala, in Gaulanitis, which was east of Jordan and the lake. This shows that Josephus, as well as the New Testament writers, applied the name Galilee to the region on both sides of the lake. The people of southern Palestine called the whole northern section Galilee, and all its inhabitants, Galileans, without attending to the nicer political and geographical distinctions; just as the inhabitants of the southern section of the United States, high and low, call every stranger a Yankee, who is from any part of the country north of Mason and Dixon's line, though well-informed people perfectly well know, that the classic and not despicable name of Yankee belongs fairly and truly to the ingenious sons of New England alone, who have made their long-established sectional title so synonymous with acuteness and energy, that whenever an enterprising northerner pushes his way southward, he shares in the honors of this gentle appellative. Just in the same vague and careless way, did the Jews apply the name Galilean to all the energetic active northerners, who made themselves known in Jerusalem, either by their presence or their fame ; and thus both Judas of Gaulanitis, and those apostles who were from the eastern side of the river, were called Galileans, as well as those on the west, in Galilee proper. Besides, in the case of Bethsaida, which was imme- diately on the line between Galilee and Gaulanitis, it was still more natural to refer it to the larger section on the west, with many of whose cities it was closely con- nected. Moreover, that the Jews considered Galilee as extending beyond Jordan, seems clear from Isaiah ix. 1, where the prophet plainl)' speaks of " Galilee of the nations, as being by the side of the sea, beyond Jordan." This was the ancient Jev/ish idea of the coimtry designated by this name, and the limitation of it to the west ol Jordan, was a mere late term introduced by the Romans, and apparently never used by the Jews of the gospel times, except when speaking of the political divisions of Palestine. The name Gaulanitis, which is the proper term for the province in which Bethsaida was, never occurs in the Bible. (Ivuinoel, Rosenmiiller, &c. give a different view, however, of " beyond Jordan," on Matt. iv. 15.) But a still more important difficulty has been suggested, in reference to the identity of the place described by Josephus, with that mentioned in the gospels. This is, the fact, that in the gospels it is .spoken of in such a connexion, as would seem to require its location on the western side. A common, but very idle argument, in favor of this supposition, i?, that Bethsaida is mentioned frequently along with Capernaum and other cities of Galilee proper, in such immediate connexion as to make it probable that it was on the same side of the river and lake with them. But places separated merely by a river, or at most by a narrow lake, whose greatest breadth was only five miles, could not be considered distant from each other, and would very naturally be spoken of as near neighbors. The most weighty argument, however, rests on a passage in Mark vi. 45, where it is said that Jesus constrained his disciples to " get into a vessel, to go before him to the other side unto Bethsaida," after the five thou- sand had been fed. Now the parallel passage in John vi. 17, says that they, following this direction, " went ov'er the sea towards Capernaum," and that when they reached the shore, " they came into the land of Gerinesaret," both which are imderstood to be on the western side. But, on the other hand, we are distinctly told by Luke, (ix. 10,) that the five thousand were fed in " a desert place, belongiiig to (or near) the city which is called Bethsaida." On connecting these two pa.ssages, therefore, (in John and Mark,) according to the common version, the disciples sailed from Bethsaida on one side, to Bethsaida on the other, a construction which has been actually adopted by those who maintain the existence of two cities of the same name on different sides of the lake. But what common reader is willing to believe that in this passage, Luke SIMON PETER. 51 refers to a place totally different from the one meant in all other passages where the name occurs, and more particularly in the very next chapter, (x. 13,) where he speaks of the Bethsaida which had been frequented before by Jesus, without a word of ex- planation to show that it was a different place 1 But in the expression, " to go before him to the other side, to Bethsaida," the word " to," may be shown, by a reference, to the Greek", to convey an erroneous idea of the situation of the places. The preposi- tion npdi, {pros,) may have, not merely the sense of to, with the idea of motion to- wards a place, but in some passages even of Mark's gospel, may be most justly trans- lated " near," or '^before," (as in ii. 2, " not even about" or before " the door," and in xi. 4, " tied by" or before " the door.") This is the meaning which seems to be jus- tified by the collocation here, and the meaning in which I am happy to find myself supported by the acute and accurate Wahl, in his Clavis Nov. Test, under npos, which he translates in this passage by the Latin juxla, prope ad ; and the German bey, that is, " by," " hear to," a meaning supported by the passage in Herodotus, to which he refers, as well as by those from Mark himself, which are given above, from Schleus- ner's references imder this word, (definition 7.) Scott, in order to reconcile the dilficulties which he saw in the common version, has, in his marginal references, suggested the meaning of " over against," a rendering, which undoubtedly expresses correctly the relations of objects in this place, and one, perhaps, not wholly incon- sistent with Schleusner's 7th definition, which is in Latin, ante, or "before;" since what was before Bethsaida, as one looked from that place across the river, was cer- tainly opposite to that city. I had thought of this meaning as a desirable one in this passage, but had rejected it, before I saw it in Scott, for the reason, that this exact meaning is not in any lexicon, nor was there any other passage in Greek, in which this could be distinctly recognized as the proper one. The propriety of the term, however, is also noticed, in the note on this passage in the great French Bible, with notes by Calmet and others. (Sainte Bible en Latin et Francois avec des notes, &c. Vol. xiv. p. 2G3, note.) It is there expressed by " I'autre cote du lac, nis-a-vis Bethsaida: c. a. d. sur le bord occidental oppose a la ville Bethsaide que etait sur le bord oriental ;" a meaning undoubtedly geographically correct, but not grammatically exact, and I therefore prefer to take " near," as the sense which both reconciles the geographical difliculties, and accords with the established principles of lexicog- raphy. Atier all, the sense " to " is not needed in this passage, to direct the action of the verb of motion {irpoayeiv, proagein, " go before") to its proper object, since that is pre- viously done by the former preposition and substantive, in to moav, (eis to pcran.) That is, when we read " Jesus constrained his disciples to go before him," and the question arises in regard to the object towards which the action is directed, " Whither did he constrain them to go before him 1" the answer is in the words immediately succeeding, tij to irkpav, " to the other side," and in these words the action is com- plete; but the mere general direction, " to the other side," was too vague of itself, and required some limitation to avoid error ; for the place to which they commonly directed their course westward, over the lake, was Capernaum, the home of Jesus, and thither they might, on this occasion, be naturally expected to go, as we should have concluded they did, if nothing farther was said ; therelore, to fix the point of their destination, we are told, in answer to the query, " To what part of the western shore were they directed to go 1" — " To that part which was near or opposite to Beth- saida." The objection which may arise, that a place on the western side could not be very near to Bethsaida on the east, is answered by the fact that this city was sepa- rated from the western shore, not by the whole breadth of the lake, but simply by the little stream of Jordan, here not more than twenty yards wide, so that a place on the opposite side might still be very near the city. And this is what proves the topogra- phical justness of the term, " over against," given by Scott, and the French commen- tator; since a place not directly across or opposite, but down the western shore, in a southwesterly direction, as Capernaum was, would not be very near Bethsaida, nor much less than five miles off. Thus is shown a beautiful mutual illustration of the literal and liberal translations of the word. Macknight ably answers another argument, which has been offered to defend the location of Bethsaida on the western shore, founded on John vi. 23. " There came other boats from Tiberias, nigh unto the place where they did cat bread," as if Tibe- rias had been near the desert of Bethsaida, and consequently near Bethsaida itself. " But," as Macknight remarks, " the original, rightly pointed, imports only, that boats from Tiberias came into some creek or bay, nigh unto the place where tjiey did eat bread." Bee ides, it should be remembered that the object of those who carne in the 52 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. boats, was to find Jesus, whom they expected to find " nigh the place where they ate bread," as the context shows ; so that these words refer to their destination, and not to the place from wliich they came. Tiberias was down the lake, at the southwestern corner of it, and I know of no geogra])her who has put Bethsaida more than half-way down, even on the western shore. I'he difference, therefore, between the distance to Bethsaida on the west and to Bethsaida on the east, could not be at most above a mile or two, a matter not to be appreciated in a voyage of sixteen miles, from Tibe- rias, which cannot be said to be near Bethsaida, in any position of the latter that has ever been thought of. The objection, of course, is not offered at all by those who suppose two Beihsaidas mentioned in the gospels, and grant that the passage in Luke ix. 10, refers to the eastern one, where tliey suppose the place of eating bread to have been ; but others, who have imagined only one Bethsaida, and that on the western side, liave proposed this argument; and to sucli the reply is directed. For all these reasons, topographical, historical, and grammatical, the conclusion ot' the whole matter is — that there was but one Bethsaida, the same place being meant by that name in all passages in the gospels and in Josephus — that this place stood within the verge of Lower Gaulanitis, on the east bank of Jordan, just where it passes into the lake — that it was in the dominions of Philip the tetrarch, at the time when it is mentioned in the gospels, and afterwards was included in tlie kingdom of Agrippa — that its original Hebrew name (from hid beth, " honse," and ms, tsedah, '^hunting orfis/iing," " a house of fishing," no doubt so called from the common pursuit of its inhabitants') was changed by Philip into Julias, by which name it was known to Greeks and Romans. By this view, we avoid the undesirable notion, that there are two totally different places thus named in two succeeding chapters of the same gospel, without a word of explanation to inform us of the difference, as is usual in ca.ses of local synonyms in the New Testament ; and that Josephus describes a place of this name, without the slightest hint of the remarkable fact, that there was another place of the same name, not half a mile off, directly across the Jordan, in full view of it. The discussion of the point has been necessarily protracted to a somewhat tedious length ; but if fewer words would have expressed the truth and the reasons for it, it should have been briefer ; and probably there is no reader who has endeavored to satisfy himself on the position of Bethsaida, in his own Biblical studies, that will not feel some gratitude for what light this note may give, on a point where all common aids and authorities are in such monstrous confusion. For the various opinions and statements on this difficult point, see Schleusner's, Bretschneider's and Wahl's Lexi- cons, Lightfoot's Chorographic century and decade, Wetstein's New Testament commentary on Matt. iv. 12, Kuinoel, Rosenmiiller, Fritzsche, Macknight, &c. On the passages where the name occurs, also the French Commentary above quoted, — more especially in Vol. III. Remarques sur le carte geog. sect. 7, p. 357. Paulus's " Commentar ueber das Neue Testament," (2d edition, Vol. II. pp. 336—342. " To- pographische Erlauterungen.") Lake Gennesareth. This body of water, bearing in the gospels the various names of " the sea of Tiberias," and " the sea of Galilee," as well as " the lake of Gennesa- rel," is formed like one or two other .smaller ones north of it, by a widening of the Jordan, which flows in at the northern end, and passing through the middle, goes out at the southern end. On the western side, it was bounded by Galilee proper, and on the east was the lower division of that portion of Iturea, which was called Gaulani- tis by the Greeks and Romans, from the ancient city of Grolan, (Deut. iv. 43 ; Josh. XX. 8, &c.) which stood within its limits. Pliny (book I. chap. 15) w^ell describes the situation and character of the lake. " Where the shape of the valley first allows it, the Jordan pours itself into a lake which is most commonly called Genesara, six- teen (Roman) miles long, and six broad. It is surrounded by pleasant toM'^ns ; on the east, it has Julias (Bethsaida) and Hippns ; on the south, Tarichea, b}-- which name some call the lake also; on the west, Tiberias with its warm springs." Josephus also gives a very clear and ample description. (Jewish War, III. x. 7.) "Lake Gen- ncsar takes its name from the country adjoining it. It is forty furlongs (about five or six miles) in width, and one hundred and forty (seventeen or eighteen miles) in length ; yet the water is sweet, and very desirable to drink ; for it has its fountain clear from swampy thickness, and is therefore quite pure, being bounded on all sides by a beach and a sandy shore. It is moreover of a pleasant temperature to drink, being warmer than that of a river or a spring, on the one hand, but colder than that which stands alwaj-'s expanded over a lake. In coldness, indeed, it is not inferior to snow, when it has been exposed to the air all night, as is the custom with the people of that region. In it there are some kinds of fish, different both in appearance and taste. SIMON PETER. » 53 from those in other places. The Jordan cuts through the middle of it." He then gives a description of the course of the Jordan, ending with the remark quoted in the former note, that it enters the lake at the city of Julias. He then describes, in glowing terms, the richness and beauty of the coimtrj-' around, from which the lake takes its name, — a description too long lo be given here ; but the studious reader may find it in section eighth of the book and chapter above referred to. The Rabbinical writers, too, often refer to the pre-eminent beauty and fertility of this delightful region, as is .shown in several passages quoted by Lightfoot in his Centuria Choro- graphica, cap. 79. The derivation of the name there given from the Rabbins, is D'-io >;j, giime sarim, " the gardens of the princes." Thence the name Genttesar. They say it was within the lands of the tribe of Naphtali ; it must therefore have been on the western side of the lake, which appears also from the fact that it was near Tiberias, as w^e are told on the same authority. It is not mentioned in the Old Testament raider this name, but the Rabbins assure us, that the place called Ciwiie- reth, in Joshua xix. 35, Chinnerolh in xi. 2, is the same ; and this lake is mentioned in xiii. 27, imder the name of " the sea of Chinnereth," — " the sea of Chinneroth," in xii. 3, &c. This old name may be very jirstly considered the true source of the later one, the change from Kinnereth or Khinnereth, to Gennesareth or Ghennesa- reth, being much slighter and more natural than many other variations which can be proved to have taken place in popular Tocal usage. The fantastical Rabbinical eiymology may therefore be rejected. The best description of the scenery, and present aspect of the lake, which I can find, is the following, from Conder's Modern Traveler, Vol. I. (Palestine) a work made up with great care from the observations of a great number of intelligent tra- velers. " The moimtains on the east of Lake Tiberias, come close to its shore, and the country on that side has not a very agreeable aspect ; on the west, it has the plain of Tiberias, the high ground of the plain of Hutin, or Hottein, the plain of Gennesaret, and the foot of those hills by which you ascend to the high mountain of Saphet. To the north and south it has a plain country, or valley. There is a current throughout the whole breadth of the lake, even to the shore •, and the passage of the Jordan through it, is discernible by the smoothness of the surface in that part." Various travelers have given a very difierent accoimt of its general aspect. According to Captain Mangles, the land about it has no striking features, and the scenery is alto- gether devoid of character. " It appeared," he says, " to particular disadvantage to us, after those beautiful lakes we had seen in Switzerland ; but it becomes a very inte- resting object, when )'^ou consider the frequent allusions to it in the gospel narrative." Dr. Clarke, on the contrary, speaks of the uncommon grandeur of this memorable scenery. " Th** lake of Gennesaret," he says, " is surrounded by objects well calcu- lated to highter liie solemn impression," made by such recollections, and " affords one of the most striking prospects in the Holy Land. Speaking of it comparatively, it may be described as longer and finer than any of our Cumberland and Westmore- land lakes, although perhaps inferior to Loch Lomond. It does not possess the vastness of the Lake of Geneva, although it much resembles it in certain points of view. In picturesque beauty, it comes nearest to the Lake of Locarno, in Italy, although it is destitute of any thing similar to the islands by which that majestic piece of water is adorned. It is inferior in magnitude, and in the hight of its sur- rounding mountains, to the Lake Asphaltites." Mr. Buckingham may perhaps be considered as having given the most accurate account, and one which reconciles, in some degree, the difierent statements above cited, when, speaking of the lake as seen from Tel Hoom, he says, " that its appearance is grand, but that the barren aspect of the mountains on each side, and the total absence of wood, give a cast of dullness to the picture ; this is increased to melancholy, by the dead calm of its waters, and the silence which reigns throughout its whole extent, where not a boat or vessel of any kind is to be fomid." The question of Peter's being the oldest son of his father has been already alluded to, and decided by the most ancient authority, in favor of the opinion that he was younger than Andrew. There surely is nothing unparalleled or remarkable in the fact, that the younger brother should so transcend the older in ability and emi- 54 • LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. nence ; since Scripture history furnishes us with similar instances in Jacob, Judah and Joseph, Moses, David, and many others throughout the history of the Jews, ahhough that nation generally regarded the rights of primogeniture with high reverence. HIS INTRODUCTION TO JESUS. The earliest passage in the life of Peter, of which any record can be found, is given in the first chapter of John's gospel. In this, it appears that Peter and Andrew were at Bethabara, a place on the eastern bank of the Jordan, probably many miles south of their home at Bethsaida, and that they had probably left their business for a time, and gone thither, for the sake of hearing and seeing John the Baptist, who was then preaching at that place, and baptizing the penitent in the Jordan. This great forerunner of the Messiah, had already, by his strange habits of life, by his fiery eloquence, by his violent and fearless zeal in denouncing the spirit of the times, attracted the attention of the people, of all classes, in various and distant parts of Palestine ; and not merely of the vulgar and unenlightened portion of society, who are so much more susceptible to false impressions in such cases, but even of the well-taught followers of the two great learned sects of the Jewish faith, whose members flocked to hear his bold and bitter condemnation of their precepts and practices. So widely had his fame spread, and so important were the results of his doctrine con- sidered, that a deputation of priests and Levites was sent to him, from Jerusalem, (probably from the Sanhedrim, or grand civil and religious council,) to inquire into his character and pretensions. No doubt a particular interest was felt in this inquiry, from the fact that there was a general expectation abroad at that time, that the long-desired restorer of Israel was soon to appear ; or as ex- pressed by Luke, there were many " who waited for the consolation of Israel," and "who in Jerusalem looked for redemption." Luke also expressly tells us, that the expectations of the multitude were strongly excited, and that " all men mused in their hearts whether he were the Christ or not." In the midst of this general notion, so flattering, and so tempting to an ambitious man, John vindi- cated his honesty and sincerity, by distinctly declaring to the multitude, as well as to the deputation, that he was not the Christ, and claimed for himself only the comparatively humble name and honors of the preparer of the way for the true king of Israel. This distinct disavowal, accompanied by the solpmr declaration, SIMON PETER. 55 that the true Messiah stood at that moment among them, though unknown in his real character, must have aggravated pubhc cu- riosity to the highest pitch, and caused the people to await, with the most intense anxiety, the nomination of this mysterious king, which John might be expected to make. We need not wonder, then, at the alacrity and determination with which the two dis- ciples of John, who heard this announcement, followed the foot- steps of Jesus, with the object of finding the dwelling place of the Messiah, or at the deep reverence with which they accosted him, Sfivinsr him at once the highest term of honor which a Jew could confer on the wise and good, — "Rabbi," or Teacher ! Nor is it surprising that Andrew, after the first day's conversation with Jesus, should instantly seek out his beloved and zealous brother, and tell him the joyful and exciting news, that they had found the Messiah. The mention of this fact was enough for Simon, and he sutfered himself to be brought at once to Jesus. The salutation with which the Redeemer greeted the man who was to be the leader of his consecrated host, was strikingly prophetical and full of meaning. His first words were the annunciation of his indi- vidual and family name, and the application of a new one, by which he was afterwards to be distinguished from the many who bore his common name. All these names have been supposed to imply a deeply curious and interesting meaning. Translating them from their supposed original Aramaic forms, the salutation will be, " Thou art a hearer, the son of divine grace — thou shalt be called a rock^ The first of these names {hearer) was a common title in use among the Jews, to distinguish those who had just ofiered themselves to the learned, as desiring wisdom in the law ; and the second was applied to those who, having past the first probationary stage of instruction, were ranked as the approved and improving disciples of the law, under the hopeful title of the " sons of divine grace." The third, which became afterwards the distinctive individual name of this apostle, was given, no doubt, in reference to the peculiar excellences of his natural genius, which seems to be thereby characterized as firm, unim- pressible by difficulty, and afibrding fit materials for the foundation of a mighty and lasting superstructure. The name Simon, v\"^v, was a common abridgment of Simeon, siyntr, -which means a hearer, and was a term applied technically as here mentioned. (For proofs and illustrations, see Poole's Sj'iiopsis and Lightfoot.) The technical meaning of the name Jonah, given in the text, is that given by Grotius and Drusius ; but Lightfoot rejects this interpretation, because the name Jonah is not fairly derived from Njnii, LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. (which is the name corresponding to John,) but is the same with that of the old prophet so named, and he is probably right in therefore rejecting this Avhimsical ety- mology and definition. The dale of the introduction of Peter to Jesus, is very variously given by the differ- ent Christian Chronologies. Baronius (Ann. Ecc. Vol. I. p. 94) fixes it, in connexion Baillet (Vies de Saints, Vol. II., 29 Juin, col. 341) makes it A. D. 30. Cave (Hist. Lit. Vol. I. p. 2) gives the same date. With this important event of the introduction of Simon to Jesus, and the application of his new and characteristic name, the Hfe of Peter, as a follower of Christ, may be fairly said to have begun, and from this arises a simple division of the subject, into the two great natural portions of his life : first, — his state of pupilage and instruction under the prayerful, personal care of his devoted Master, during his earthly stay; and second, — his labors in the cause of his murdered and risen Lord, as his preacher and successor. These two portions of his life may be properly de- nominated his DisciPLESHip and his apcstleship ; or perhaps still better, Peter the learner, and Peter the teacher. Peter's discipleship. 67 I. PETER'S DISCIPLESHIP; OR, PETER THE LEARNER AND FOLLOWER. Soon after calling Peter and several of his destined associates, Jesus left the banks of the Jordan, where he had first appeared in the character of a teacher, and next went forth westward into Gahlee, in company with several of his newly-chosen disciples, — now numbering at least six,— and on the third day from leaving the scene of baptism, is mentioned to have been present at a wed- ding in Cana, a city of Galilee proper, somewhat nearer to the Mediterranean sea than to lake Gennesaret. Of the miracles there performed, Peter, as well as the other disciples, was a believing and adoring witness. This first manifestation of his great teacher's glory sealed his faith in him as the destined restorer of Israel ; he " believed in him," but not in the pure, patient spirit, which was the essential of a true faith in Christ. It was but the wondering, awed belief in a superior power ; and though his eye was struck and dazzled into reverence, by this supernatural display, his heart was still hardened and hardening in the vain hope of an earthly Messiah's triumphs ; and nothing but the careful instructions of that great teacher, through the journeys, and toils, and sorrows of years, could purify the spirit of Peter for the service to which he had been summoned, and which he had accepted with so little notion of its nature. After this little excursion through western Galilee, Jesus re- turned to the cities of the lake, with his disciples and brethren, and made his abode for a time in Capernaum, on the northeastern shore of Gennesaret. Having received this preliminary initiation into the faith and discipleship of Jesus, Peter seems to have re- turned to his usual business, toiling for his support, without any idea whatever of the manner in which his destiny was connected with the wonderful being to whom he had been thus introduced. We may justly suppose, indeed, that, being convinced by the testi- mony of John, his first religious teacher and his baptizer, and by personal conversation with Jesus, of his being the Messiah, he 58 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. afterwards often came to him, (as his home was near the Savior's,) and heard him, and saw some of the miracles done by him. Among the disciples of Jesus, Simon and his brother were evi- dently numbered, from the time when they received their first introduction to him, and were admitted to the honors of an inti- mate acquaintance. Still the two brothers had plainly received no appointment which produced any essential change in their general habits and plans of life ; for they still followed their pre- vious calling, quietly and unpretendingly, without seeming to suppose, that the new honors attained by them had in any way exempted them from the necessity of earning their daily bread by the sweat of their brow. To this they devoted themselves, labor- ing along the same sea of Galilee, whose waters and shores were the witnesses of so many remarkable scenes in the life of Christ. Yet their business was not of such a character as to prevent their enjoying occasional interviews with their divine master, whose residence by the lake, and walks along its shores, must have afforded frequent opportunities for cultivating or renewing an acquaintance with those engaged on its waters. There is nothing in the gospel story inconsistent with the belief, that Jesus met his disciples, who were thus occupied, on more occasions than one ; and had it been the Bible plan to record all the most interesting details of his earthly life, many instructive accounts might, no doubt, have been given of the interviews enjoyed by him and his destined messengers of grace to the world. But the multiplication of such narratives, however interesting the idea of them may now seem, would have added no essential doctrine to our knowledge, even if they had been so multiplied that, in the hyperbolical language of John, the whole world could not contain them ; and the necessary result of such an increased number of records, would have been a diminished valuation of each. As it is, the scripture historical canon secures our high regard and diligent at- tention, and careful examination of it, by the very circumstance of its brevity, and the wide chasms of the narrative ; — like the mys- terious volumes of the Cumaean Sybil, the value of the few, is no less than that of the many, the price of each increasing in pro- portion as the number of the whole diminishes. Thus in regard to this interesting interval of Peter's life, we are left to the indul- gence of reasonable conjecture, such as has been here mentioned. Peter's discipleship. 59 HIS CALL. The next direct account given in the Bible, of any event imme- diately concerning him, is found in all the three first gospels. It is thought by some, that his father Jonah was now dead ; for there is no mention of him, as of Zebedee, when his two sons were called. This, however, is only a mere conjecture, and has no more certainty than that he had found it convenient to make his home elsewhere, or was now so old as to be prevented from sharing in this laborious and perilous occupation, or that he had always obtained his livelihood in some other way ; though the last suppo- sition is much less accordant with the well-known hereditary suc- cession of trades, which was sanctioned by almost universal custom throughout their nation. However, it appears that if still alive, their connexion with him was not such as to hinder them a moment in renouncing at once all their former engagements and responsibilities, at the summons of Christ. Jesus was at this time residing at Capernaum, which is said by Matthew to be by the sea-coast^ — better translated " shore of the lake ;" for it is not on the coast of the Mediterranean, as our modern use of these terms would lead us to suppose, but on the shore of the small inland lake Tiberias, or sea of Galilee, as it was called by the Jews, who, with their limited notions of geography, did not draw the nice distinctions between large and small bodies of water, which the more extended knowledge of some other nations of antiquity taught them to make. Capernaum was but a few miles from Bethsaida, on the other side of the lake, and its nearness would often bring Jesus, in his walks, to the places where these fisher- men were occupied, in whichever of the two cities they at that time resided. On oi]U3 of these walks, he seems to have given the final summons which called the four first of the twelve from their humble labors to the high commission of converting the world. CaperTMum. — Though no one has ever supposed that there were two places bearing this name, yet about its locality, as about many other points of sacred topography, we find that " doctors disagree," though in this case without any good reason; for the scriptural accounts, though so seldom minute on the situations of places, here give us all the particulars of its position, as fully as is desirable or possible. Matthew (iv. 13) tells us, that Capernaum was upon " the shore of the lake, on the boundaries of Zebulon and Naphtali." A reference to the history of the division of territory among these tribes, (Joshua xix.) shows that their possessions did not reach the other side of the water, but were bounded on the east by Jordan and the lake, as is fully represented in all the maps of Palestine. Thus, it is made manifest, that Capernaum must have stood on the western shore of the lake, where the lands of Zebulon and Naphtali bordered on each other. Though this boundary line cannot be very accu- rately determined, we can still obtain such an approximation, as will enable us to fix 60 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. the position of Capernaum on the northern end of the western side of the lake, where most of the maps agree in placing it; yet some have very" strangely put it on the eastern side. The maps in the French Bible, before quoted, have set it down at the mouth of the Jordan, in the exact i)lace where Joscphus has so particularly described Bethsaida as placed. Lightfoot has placed it on the west, but near the southern end ; and all the common maps difler considerably as to its precise situation, of which indeed we can only give a vague conjecture, except that it must have been near the northern end. " Dr. Richardson, in passing through the plain of Gennesaret, in- quired of the natives whether they knew such a place as Capernaum'? They imme- diately rejoined, ' Cavernahum wa Chorasi; they are quite near, but in ruins.' This evidence sufficiently lixes the proximity of Chorazin to Capernaum, in opposition to the opinion that it was on the east side of the lake ; and it is probable that the Gerasi of Pococke is the same place, the orthography only being varied, as Dr. Richardson's Chorasi." (Conder, Mod. Trav. I.) But no modern civilized traveler ever visited the actual site of Capernaum, until American missionary enterprise had sent forth Christian ministers to the survey of the moral condition and necessities of the Holy Land. The Rev. Pliny Fisk, a missionary of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, in journeying through Galilee, on his spiritual errand, did not neglect opportunities of examining localities so important in sacred chorography, and turned aside during his stay at Tiberias to examine the region around the lake. In his journal, Nov. 12, 1823, he says, — " I went with our guide, Antoon Baulus, to see the ruins of Capernaum, on the shore of the lake, north of Tiberias. One hour's ride brought us to an Arab village called Mydool. We then entered a plain," (Gen- nesar 1) " which we were an hour in crossing. Then passing a deserted khan, (inn,) we entered upon a rough piece of road, and soon came to the ruins of an Arab house. A few rods north of it are some ruined walls, but clearly of modern origin. Af^er passing a set of mills on a brook, we came to the ruins of Capernaum, at least to ruins which now bear that name, in about three hours' ride from Tiberias. Here are ruins which are manifestly very ancient. A part of the wall of one building still stands ; and many walls appear at the surface of the ground as well as broken columns, pedestals, and capitals. These are of hard limestone, like those of Baalbec, There are now twenty or thirty Arab huts on the ruins of the old city." (Bond's Life of Fisk, p. 346.) No ancient writer mentions Capernaum very distinctly. Jo- sephus says, that in the plain of Gennesar there was a remarkable fotmtain called Caphariiaum, but mentions no city of that name. (Jew. War, III. x. 8.) He speaks, in the history of his own life, (§. 72,) of a village in the neighborhood, called Ke- j>harnome, but its locality is not particularly specified. Leaving Nazareth, Jesus had come to Capernaum, at the north- western end of the lake, and there made his home. About this time, perhaps on occasion of his marriage, Simon had left Beth- saida, the city of his birth, and now dwelt in Capernaum, probably on account of his wife being of that place, and he may have gone into the possession of a house, inherited by his marriage ; — a sup- position that would agree with the circumstance of the residence of his wife's mother in her married daughter's family, which would not be so easily explainable on the supposition that she had also sons to inherit their father's property, and furnish a home to their mother. It has also been suggested, that he probably removed to Capernaum after his introduction to Christ, in order to enjoy his instructions more conveniently, being near him. This motive would no doubt have had some weight. Here the two brothers dwelt together in one house, which makes it almost certain that Andrew was unmarried ; for the peculiarity of eastern manners would hardly have permitted the existence of two families, two Peter's discipleship. 61 husbands, two wives, in the same domestic circle. Making this place the centre of their business, they industriously devoted them- selves to honest labor, extending their fishing operations over the lake, on which they toiled night and day. It seems that the house of Simon and Andrew was Jesus's regular place of abode while in Capernaum, of which supposition the manifest proofs occur in the course of the narrative. Thus, when Jesus came out of the syna- gogue, he went to Simon's house, — remained there as at a home, during the day, and there received the visits of the immense throng of people who brought their sick friends to him ; all which he would certainly have been disposed to do at his proper residence, rather than where he was a mere occasional visiter. He is also elsewhere mentioned, as going into Peter's house in such a familiar and habitual kind of way, as to make the inference very obvious, that it was his home. On these terms of close domestic intimacy, did Jesus remain with these favored disciples for more than a year, during which time he continued to reside at Capernaum. He must have resided in some other house, however, on his first arrival in Capernaum, because, in the incident which is next given here, his conduct was evidently that of a person much less intimately ac- quainted with Simon than a fellow-lodger would be. The cir- cumstances of the call evidently show, that Peter, although acquainted with Christ previously, in the way mentioned by John, had by no means become his intimate, daily companion. We learn from Luke, that Jesus, walking forth from Capernaum, along the lake, saw two boats standing by the lake, but the fishers having gone out of them, were engaged in putting their nets and other fishing-tackle in order. As on his walk the populace had thronged about him, from curiosity and interest, and were annoying him with requests, he sought a partial refage from their friendly at- tacks, on board of Simon's boat, which was at hand, and begging nim to push out a little from the land, he immediately made the boat his pulpit, in preaching to the throng on shore, sitting down and teaching the people out of the boat. After the conclusion of his discourse, perhaps partly, or in some small measure, with the design of properly impressing his hearers by a miracle, with the idea of his authority to assume the high bearing which so charac- terized his instructions, and which excited so much astonishment among them, he urged Simon to push out still further into deep water, and to open his nets for a draught. Simon, evidently already so favorably impressed respecting his visiter, as to feel disposed to 62 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. obey and gratify him, did according to the request, remarking, liowever, that as he had toiled all night without catching any thing, he opened his net again only out of respect to his Divine Master, and not because, after so many fruitless endeavors, so long continued, it was reasonable to hope for the least success. Upon drawing in the net, it was found to be filled with so vast a number of fishes, that having been used before its previous rents had been entirely mended, it broke with the unusual weight. They then made known the difficulty to their friends, the sons of Zebedee, who were in the other boat, and were obliged to share their burden between the two vessels, which were both so overloaded with the fishes as to be in danger of sinking. At this event, so unexpected and overwhelming, Simon was seized with mingled admiration and awe ; and reverently besought Jesus to depart from a sinful man, so unworthy as he was to be a subject of benevolent attention from one so mighty and good. As might be expected, not only Peter, but also his companions, — the sons of Zebedee, — were struck with a miracle so peculiarly impressive to them, because it was an event connected with their daily business, and yet utterly out of the common course of things. But Jesus soothed their awe and terror into interest and attachment, by telling Simon that hence- forth he should find far nobler employment in taking men. And as soon as they had brought their boats to land, they forsook their nets, boats and all, and followed him, not back into Caper- naum, but over all Galilee, while he preached to wondering thou- sands the gospel of peace, and set forth to them his high claims to their attention and obedience, by healing all the diseased which his great fame induced them to bring in such multitudes. This was, after all, the true object of his calling his disciples to follow him in that manner. Can we suppose that he would come out of Ca- pernaum, in the morning, and finding there his acquaintances about their honest business, would call on them, in that unaccount- able manner, to follow him back into their home, to which they would of course, naturally enough, have gone of their own accord, without any divine call for a simple act of necessity ? It was evi- dently with a view to initiate them, at once, into the knowledge of the labors to which he had called them, and to give them an insight into the nature of the trials and difficulties which they must en- counter in his service. In short, it was to enter them on their apprenticeship to the mysteries of their new and holy vocation. On this pilgrimage through Galilee, then, he must have been ac- Peter's discipleship. 63 companied by his newly chosen helpers, who thus were daily and hourly witnesses of his words cuid actions, as recorded by all the three first evangelists. The accounts which Matthew and Mark give of this call, have seemed so strikingly different from that of Luke, that Calmet, Thoynard, Macknight, Hug, Michaelis, Eichhorn, Marsh, Paulus, (and perhaps some others,) have considered Luke's story, in V. 1 — 11, as referring to a totally distinct event. See Calmet's, Thoynard's, Mac- knight's, Michaelis's, and Vater's harmonies, in loc. Also Eichhorn 's introduction, 1. §58, V. II., — Marsh's dissertation on the origin of the three gospels, in table of coincident passages, — Paulus's " Commentar ueber das Neue Test." 1 Thiel. xxiii. Abschnitt; comp. xix. Abschnitt, — Hug's " Einleitung in das N. T.," Vol. II. §40. " Erste auswandenmg, Lucas, iii.," comp. Mark. These great authorities would do much to support any arrangement of gospel events ; but the still larger number of equally high authorities on the other side, justifies my boldness in attempting to find a harmony, where these great men could see none. Lightfoot, Le Clerc, Arnauld, Newcome, with his subsequent editors, and Thirlwall, in their harmonies, agree in making all three evangelists refer to the same event. Grotius, Hammond, Wetstein, Scott, Clarke, Kuinoel, and Rosenmiiller, in their several commentaries in loco, — also Stackhouse in his history of the Bible, and Home in his introduction, with many others, all take the view which I have presented in the text, and may be con- sulted by those who wish for reasons at greater length than my limits will allow. The date of this actual call has been variously fixed by difierent chronologists ; but it may, with good reason, be referred to the latter part of the year in which the pre- ceding introduction of Peter to Jesus took place, — a journey to Jerusalem and a passover (John ii. 14) being commonly supposed to have intervened. Baronius (Ann. p. 107) fixes it in the year of Christ 31, and of Tiberius 15, which is corrected by his accurate critic, Antony Pagi, to A. D. 29, of the Dionysian or vulgar era, corresponding to the sixteenth of Tiberius. (Pag. Crit. Baronii, Vol. I. p. 18. comp. Appar. Chron. p. 42.) Baillet (Vies des Saints, Vol. II. col. 341, 342, Jan. 29) gives it in the latter part of the year of Christ 31, some months after Peter's first introduc- tion. In this, he seems merely to follow Baronius. Cave (Hist. Lit. Vol. I. p. 4) also dates the call in A. D. 31. " Peter and Andrew dwelt together in one ho^ise." — This appears from Mark i. 29, where it is said that, after the call of the brothers by Jesus, " they entered the house of Simon and Andrew." " Sat dovm and taught the people out of the ship" verse 3. This was a convenient position, adopted by Jesus on another occasion also. Matt. xiii. 2. Mark iv. 1. " Launch out." — Luke v. 4. 'E-rTavayayc, (Epanagage,) the same word which occurs in verse 3, there translated in the common English version, " thrust out." It was, probably, a regular nautical term for this backward movement, though in the classic Greek, 'E^avayetv, {Eocanagein,) was the form always used to express this idea, inso- much that it seems to have been the established technical term. Perhaps Luke may have intended this term originally, which might have been corrupted by some early copyist into this word, which is in no other place used with this meaning. — " Let down" (liaXoKTaTe, Khalasate, in the plural ; the former verb sing.) More literally, " loosen" which is the primary signification of the verb, and would be the proper one, since the operation of preparing the net to take the fish, consisted in loosening the ropes and other tackle, which, of course, were drawn tight, when the net was not in use, closing its mouth. — " Master, we have toiled," &c. verse 5. The word 'E^torara, (Epistala,) here translated Master, is remarkable, as never occurring in the New Testament, except in this gospel. Grotius remarks {in loc.) that doubtless Luke, (the most finished and correct Greek scholar of all the sacred writers,) considered this as a more faithful translation of the Hebrew ■■2-1, {Rabbi,) than the common expres- sions of the other evangelists, Kipie, {Kurie, Lord,) and AiSacKuXe, {Didaskale, teacher.) It was a moderate, though dignified title, between these two in its character ; rather lower than " Lord," and rather higher than " Teacher." It is used in the Alexan- drine version, as the proper term for a " steward," a " military commander," &c. (See Grotius, Op. theol. Vol. II. p. 372; or Poole's Synopsis on this passage.) " Toiled all night." This was the best time for taking the fish, as is well known to those who follow fishing for a living. On this journey, they saw some of his most remarkable miracles, 64 LIVES OF THE AP0STLE3. such as the healing of the leper, the paraiytic, the man with the withered hand, and others of which the details are not given. It was also during this time, that the sermon on the mount was de- livered, which was particularly addressed to his disciples, and was plainly meant for their instruction, in the conduct proper in them as the founders of the gospel faith. Besides passing through many cities on the nearer side, he also crossed over the lake, and visited the rude people of those wild districts. The journey was, there- fore, a very long one, and must have occupied several weeks. After he had sufficiently acquainted them with the nature of the duties to which he had consecrated them, and had abundantly im- pressed them with the high powers which he possessed, and of which they were to be the partakers, he came back to Capernaum, and there entered into the house of Simon, which he seems hence- forth to have made his home while in that city. They found that, during their absence, the mother-in-law of Simon had been taken ill, and was then suffering under the heat of a violent fever. Jesus at once, with a word, pronounced her cure ; and immediately the fever left her so perfectly healed, that she arose from her sick bed, and proceeded to welcome their return, by her grateful efforts to make their home comfortable to them, after their tiresome pil- grimage. " Immediately the fever left her." — Matt. viii. 15; Mark i. 31 ; Luke iv. 39. It may seem quite idle to conjecture the specific character of this fever; but it seems to me a very justifiable guess, that it was a true intermittent, or fever and ague, arising from the marsh influences, which must have been very strong in such a place as Ca- pernaum,— situated as it was, on the low margin of a large fresh-water lake, and with all the morbific agencies of such an unhealthy site, increased by the heat of that cli- mate. The immediate termination of the fever, imder these circumstances, was an abimdant evidence of the divine power of Christ's word, over the evil agencies which mar the health and happiness of mankind. During some time after this, Peter does not seem to have left his home for any long period at once ; but he no doubt accompa- nied Jesus on all his excursions through Galilee, besides the first, of which the history has been here given. It would be hard, and exceedingly unsatisfactory, however, to attempt to draw out from the short, scattered incidents which fill the interesting records of the gospels, any very distinct, detailed narrative of these various journeys. The chronology and order of most of these events, is still left much in the dark ; and most of the pains taken to bring out the truth to the light, have only raised the greater dust to blind the eyes of the eager investigator. To pretend to roll all these clouds away at once, and open to common eyes a clear view of Peter's discipleship. 66 facts, which have so long confused the minds of some of the wisest and best of almost every Christian age, and too often, alas ! in turn, been confused by them, — such an effort, however well meant, could only win for its author the contempt of the learned, and the perplexed dissatisfaction of common readers. But one very simple, and comparatively easy task, is plainly before the writer ; and to that he willingly devotes himself for the present. This task is, that of separating and disposing, in what may seem their natural order, with suitable illustration and explanation, those few facts contained in the gospels, relating distinctly to this apostle. These facts, accordingly, here follow. HIS FIRST MISSION. The next affair in which Peter is mentioned, by either evan- gelist, is the final enrolling of the twelve peculiar disciples, to whom Jesus gave the name of apostles. In their proper place have already been mentioned, both the meaning of this title and the rank of Peter on the list ; and it need here only be remarked, that Peter went forth with the rest, on this, their first and experimental mission. All the three first gospels contain this account ; but Matthew enters most fully into the charge of Jesus, in giving them their first commission. In his tenth chapter, this charge is given with such particularity, that a mere reference of the reader to that place will be sufficient, without any need of explanation here. After these minute directions for their behavior, they departed, as Mark and Luke record, and " went through the towns, preaching the gospel, that men should repent. And they cast out many devils, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them." How far their journey extended, cannot be positively de- termined ; but there is no probability that they went beyond the limits of Galilee. Divided as they were into couples, and each pair taking a different route, a large space must have been gone over in this mission, however brief the time can be supposed to have been. As to the exact time occupied, we are, indeed, as un- certain as in respect to the distance to which they traveled ; but from the few incidents placed by Mark and Luke between their departu%e and return, it could hardly have been more than a few weeks, probably only a few days. The only affair mentioned by either evangelist, between their departure and return, is, the notice taken by Herod of the actions of Jesus, to whom his attention was drawn by his resemblance to John the Baptist. They then say, 66 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. that " the apostles, when they were returned, gathered themselves together to Jesus, and told him all things, — both what they had done and what they had taught." As this report was received by Jesus without any comment that is recorded, it is fair to conclude that their manner of preaching, and the success of their labors, had been such as to deserve his approbation. In this mission, there is nothing particularly commemorated with respect to Peter's conduct ; but no doubt the same fiery zeal which distinguished him afterwards, on so many occasions, made him foremost in this, his earliest apostolic labor. His rank, as chief apostle, too, pro- bably gave him some prominent part in the mission, and his field of operations must have been more important and extensive than that of the other apostles, and his success proportionably greater. It is deserving of notice, that on this first mission, Jesus seems to have arranged the twelve in pairs, in which order he probably sent them forth, as he certainly did the seventy disciples, described in Luke x. 1. The object of this arrangement, was no doubt to secure them that mutual support which was so desirable for men, so un- accustomed to the high duties on which they were now despatched. Their destination, also, deserves attention. The direction of Jesus was, that they should avoid the way of the heathen, and the cities of the Samaritans, who were but little better, and should go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. This expression ■was quoted, probably, from those numerous passages in the prophets, where this term is applied to the Israelites, as in Jer. 1. 6, Isa. liii. 6, Ezek. xxxiv. 6, &c., and was used with peculiar force, in reference to the condition of those to whom Jesus sent his apostles. It seems to me, as if he, by this peculiar term, meant to limit them to the provinces of Galilee, where the state and character of the Jews was such as emi- nently to justify this melancholy appellative. The particulars of their condition will be elsewhere shown. They were expressly bounded on one side, from passing into the heathen territory, and on the other from entering the cities of the Samaritans, who dwelt between Galilee and Judea proper ; so that a literal obedience of these in- structions, would have confined them entirely to Galilee, their native land. Mac- knight also takes this view. The reasons of this limitation, are abundant and obvious. The peculiarly abandoned moral condition of that outcast section of Palestine, — the perfect familiarity which the apostles must have felt with the people of their own region, whose peculiarities of language and habits they themselves shared so per- fectly as to be unfitted for a successful outset among the Jews of the south, without more experience out of Galilee, — the shortness of the time, which seems to have been taken up in this mission, — the circumstance that Jesus sent them to proclaim that " the kingdom of heaven was at hand," that is, that the Messiah was approach- ing, which he did in order to arouse the attention of the people to himself, when he should go to them, (compare Luke x. 1,) thus making them his forenmners, — and the fact, that the places to which he actually did go with them, on their return, were all in Galilee, (Matt. xi. xix. 1, Mark vi. 7, x. 1, Luke ix. 1 — 51,) — all serve to show that this first mission of the apostles, was limited entirely to the Jewish population of Ga- lilee. His promise to them also, in Matt. x. 2, 3, " you shall not finish the cities oj Israel, before the son of man come," seems to me to mean simply, that there would be no occasion for them to extend their labors to the Gentile cities of Galilee, or to the Samaritans ; because, before they could finish their specially allotted field of survey, "he himself would be ready to follow them, and confirm their labors. This jvas men- tioned to them in connexion with the prediction of persecutions which tney would meet, as an encouragement. For various other explanations of this last passage, see Poole's Synop.sis, Rosenmiiller, Wetstein, Macknight, Le Sainte Bible avec notes, &c. in loc. But Kuinoel, who quotes on his side i3eza, Bolten, and others, supports the view, which an unassisted consideration induced me to suggest. " Anointed with oil." Mark vi. 13. The same expression occurs in James v. 14, and needs explanation, from its connexion with a peculiar rite of the Romish church, Peter's discipleship. 67 — extreme unction, from which it differs, however, inasmuch as it wa-s always a hopeful operation, intended to aid the patient, and secure his recovery ; while the Romish ceremony is always performed in case of complete despair of life, only with a view to prepare the patient, by this form, for certain death. The operation men- tioned as so successfully performed by the apostles, for the cure of diseases, was undoubtedly a simple remedial process, previously in long-established use among the Hebrews, as clearly appears by the numerous authorities quoted by Lightfoot, Wet- stein, and Paulus, from Rabbinical, Greek, and Arabic sources ; yet Beza, and others, quoted in Poole's Synopsis, as well as Rosenmiiller, suggest some symbolical force in the ceremony, for which see those works in loc. See also Kuinoel, and Bloom- field, who gives numerous references. See also Marlorat's BibUotheca expositionum, Stackhouse's Hist, of the Bible, Whitby, &c. THE SCENES ON THE LAKE. After receiving the report of his apostle's labors, Jesus said to them, " Come ye yourselves apart into a retired place, and rest awhile ;" for there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat. And he took them and went privately aside by boat, into a lonely place, near the city called Bethsaida. And the people saw him departing, and many knew him, and went on foot to the place, out of all the country, and outwent them, and came together to him as soon as he reached there. And he received them, and spoke unto them of the kingdom of God, and healed them that had need of healing. It was on this occa- sion that he performed the miracle of feeding the multitude with five loaves and two fishes. So great was the impression made on their minds by this extraordinary act of benevolence and power, that he thought it best, in order to avoid the hindrance of his great task, by any popular commotion in his favor, to go away in such a manner as to be efiectually beyond their reach for the time. With this view, he constrained the disciples to get into the ship, and go before him to the other side of the lake, opposite to Beth- saida, where they then were, while he sent away the people. After sending the multitude away, he went up into a mountain, apart, to pray. And after night-fall, the vessel was in the midst of the sea, and he alone on the land. Thence he saw them toiling with rowing, (for the wind was contrary to them, and the ship tossed in the waves :) and about three or four o'clock in the morning, he comes to them, walking on the sea, and appeared as if about to pass unconcernedly by them. But when they saw him walking upon the sea, they supposed it to have been a spirit, and they all cried out, " It is a spirit ;" for they all saw him, and were alarmed ; and immediately he spoke to. them, and said, " Be comforted ; it is I ; be not afraid." And Peter, foremost in zeal on this occasion, as at almost all times, said to him, " Lord, if it be thou, bid me 68 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. come to thee upon the water." And he said, "Come." And when Peter had come down out of the vessel, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid ; and beginning to sink, he cried, " Lord, save me." And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand and caught him ; and said to him, " O thou of little faith ! wherefore didst thou doubt ?" And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased ; and they were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, and wondered. And all they that were in the vessel came and wor- shiped him, saying, " Of a trudi, thou art the Son of God." This amazement and reverence was certainly very tardily acknowledged by them, after all the wonders they had seen wrought by him ; but they considered not the miracle of the loaves, the most recent of all, which happened but a few hours before. For this thought- lessness, in a matter so striking and weighty, Jesus himself after- wards rebuked them, referring both to this miracle of feeding the five thousand, and to a subsequent similar one. However, the various great actions of a similar character, thus repeated before them, seem at last to have had more effect, since, on an occasion not long after, they boldly and clearly made their profession of faith in Jesus, as the Christ. " A lonely place." — The word deserl, which is the adjective given in this passage, in the common English version, (Matt. xiv. 13, 15, Mark vi. 31, 32, 35, Luke ix. 10, 12,) does not convey to the reader the true idea of the character of the place. The Greek word "Epji^ios {Ercmos) does not in the passage just quoted, mean " desert," in our modern sense of that English word, Avhich always conveys the idea of " desola- tion," " wildness," and " barrenness," as well as " solitude." But the Greek word by no means implied these darker characteristics. The primary, uniform idea of the word is " Irmely," " solilary ;" and so little does it imply " barrenness," that it is applied to lands, rich, fertile, and pleasant ; a connexion, of course, perfectly inconsistent with our ideas of a desert place. Schleusner gives the idea very fairly luider 'Efj»)/Jia, {Eremia,) a derivative of this word. " Notat locum aliquem vel tractiun terrae, non tarn incuUum et horridum, quam minus habitabilem, — solitudinem, — locum vacuum quidem ab hominibus, pascuis tamen et agris ahundaniem, et arboribus obsUum." " It means a place or tract of land, not so much uncultivated and wild, as it does one thinly inhabited, — a solitude, a place empty of men indeed, yet rich in pastures and fields, and planted with trees." But after giving this very clear and satisfactory ac- count of the derivative, he immediately after gives to the primitive itself, the primary meaning " de.sertus, desolalus, vastus, devastalus," and refers to passages where the word is applied to ruined cities; but in every one of those passages, the true idea is that above given as the meaning, " stripped of inhabitants," and not " desolated" or " laid waste." Hedericus gives this as the first meaning, " desertus, solus, solitarius, inhabitatMS." Schneider also fully expresses it, in German, by ^^ einsam," {lonely, solitary,) in which he is followed by Passow, his improver, and by Donnegan, his English translator. Jones and Pickering also give it thus. Bretschneidcr and Wahl, in their N. T. Lexicons, have given a just and proper classification of the meanings. The word " deserl" came into our English translation, by the minute verbal adherence of the translators to the Vulgate or Latin version, where the word is expressed by " desertum," properly enough, because desertus, in Latin, does not mean desert in English, nor any thing like it, but simply " lonely," " uninhabited;" — in shortj it has tlie force of the English participle " descried," and not of the ad- Peter's discipleship. 69 jective " desert," which has probably acquired its modern meaning, and lost its old one, since our common translation was made ; thus making one instance, among a thousand others, of the imperfection of this ancient translation, which too often limits itself to a servile English rendering of the Vulgate. Campbell, in his four gospels, has repeated this passage, without correcting the error, though Hammond, long before, in his just and beautiful paraphrase, (on Matt. xiv. 13,) had corrected it by the expression, " a place not inhabited." Charles Thomson, in his version of the Alexandrine, has overlooked the error in Matt. xiv. 13 — 15, but has corrected it in Mark \i. 31, &c., and in Luke ix. 10; expressing it by " solitary." The remark of the apostles to Jesus, " This place is lonely," does not require the idea of a barren or wild place ; it was enough that it was far from any village, and had not inhabitants enough to furnish food for five thousand men ; as in 2 Cor. xi. 27, it is used in oppo- sition to " city," in the sense of " the country." In the course of the conversations and instructions which soon after occurred in connexion with the miracle of the loaves, Jesus, in the synagogue at Capernaum, proclaimed to an assembly of many disciples, several solemn and mysterious truths respecting his own nature, and the conditions of salvation through him, — truths which sounded so strangely to the ears of his hearers, that many from that day renounced the discipleship of him who laid such difficult and seemingly impracticable obligations on his fol- lowers. On witnessing this melancholy defection of so many who had once heartily espoused his cause and doctrines on an imperfect acquaintance, he turned mournfully to the little band of the chosen twelve, now left almost alone with him, and said — " Will you also go away ?" In reply to this simple but moving inquiry, Simon Peter, with the prompt zeal that characterized and well became him, as the chief and leader of the apostles, spoke in behalf of all, eloquently repelling the implication of doubt, by the unhesitating and all-confiding declaration — '• Lord ! To whom shall we go ? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure, that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God." Thus honestly and boldly spoke the faithful apostohc chief, with as little doubt of the zeal and firmness of his associates as of his own. But he, who knew the hearts of all men, saw among the silently assenting eleven, one already self-devoted to a career of treachery, crime, and ruin ; and his reply to this clear profession was there- fore tempered with the statement of the circumstance which ex- plained and justified the previous doubtful inquiry. The accuser was among them, known only to himself and his future victim. HIS DECLARATION OF CHRISt's DIVINITY. Journeying on northward, Jesus came into the neighborhood of Cesarea Philippi, and while he was there in some solitary place, praying alone with hi.s select disciples, at the conclusion of his 70 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. prayer, he asked them, " Who do men say that I, the son of man, am?" And they answered him, " Some say that thou art John the Baptist :" (Herod, in particular, we know, had this notion ;) " some, that thou art Ehjah ; and others that thou art Jeremiah, or one of the prophets, that is risen again." So pecuHar was his doctrine, and so far removed was he, both in impressive eloquence and in original views, from the degeneracy and servility of that age, that the universal sentiment was, that one of the bold pure " spirits of the fervent days of old," had come back to call Judah from foreign servitude, to the long-remembered glories of the reigns of David and Solomon. But his chosen ones, who had by repeated instruc- tions, as well as long acquaintance, better learned their Master, though still far from appreciating his true character and designs, had yet a higher and juster idea of him, than the unenlightened multitudes who had been amazed by his deeds. To draw from them the distinct acknowledgment of their belief in him, Jesus at last plainly asked his disciples, " But who do you say that I am ?" Simon Peter, in his usual character as spokesman, replied for the whole band, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." Jesus, recognizing in this prompt answer, the fiery and devoted spirit that would follow the great work of redemption through hfe, and at last to death, replied to the zealous speaker in terms of marked and exalted honor, prophesying at the same time the high part which he would act in spreading and strengthening the kingdom of his Master : " Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonah, for flesh and blood have not revealed this unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, that thou art a ROCK, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven ; and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven ; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven." In such high terms was the chief apostle distinguished, and thus did his Master peculiarly commission him above the rest, for the high office to which all the energies of his remaining life were to be devoted. IfTio do men say that lam. — The common English translation, here makes a gross grammatical blunder, putting the relative in the objective case, — " MTinm do men say," &c. (Matt. xvi. 13— L5.) It is evident that on inverting the order, putting the relative last instead of first, it will be in the nominative, — " Men say that I am who ?" making, in short, a nominative after the verb, though it here comes before it by the inversion which the relative requires. Here again the difficulty may be traced to a heedless copying of the Vulgate. In Latin, as in Greek, the relative is given in the accusative, and very properly, because it is followed by the infinitive. " Cliiem dicuiit Peter's discipleship. 71 homines esse Filium hominis 1" which literally is, " Whom do men say the son of man to be 1" — a very correct form of expression ; but the blunder of our translators was in preserving the accusative, while they changed the verb from the infinitive to the finite form; for " whom" cannot be governed by " say.'" Hammond has passed over the error ; but Campbell, Thomson, and Webster, have corrected it. Son of Man. — This expression has acquired a peculiarly exalted sense in our minds, in consequence of its repeated application to Jesus Christ, and its limitation to him, in the New Testament. But in those days il had no meaning by which it coiild be considered expressive of any peculiar characteristic of the Savior, being a mere general emphatic expression for the common word " man," used in solemn address or poetical expressions. Both in the Old and New Testament it is many limes ap- plied to men in general, and to particular individuals, in such a way as to show that it was only an elegant periphrasis for the common terra, without implying any pecu- liar importance in the person thus designated, or referring to any peculiar circum- stance as justifying this appellative in that case. Any concordance will show how commonly the word occurred in this connexion. The diligent Butterworth enume- rates eighty-nine times in which this word is applied to Ezekiel, in whose book of prophecy it occurs oftener than in any other book in the Bible. It is also applied to Daniel, in the address of the angel to him, as to Ezekiel; and in consideration of the vastly more frequent occurrence of the expression in the writers after the captivity, and its exclusive use by them as a formula of solemn address, it has been commonly considered as having been brought into this usage among the Hebrews, from the dia- lects of Chaldea and Syria, where it was much more common. In Syriac, more par- ticularly, the simple expression, " man," is entirely banished from use by tliis solemn periphrasis, ^..0.^^12) {bar-nosh,) " son op man," which every where takes the place of the original direct form. It should be noticed, also, that in every place in the Old Testament, where this expression (" son of man") occurs, before Ezekiel, the former part of the sentence invariably contains the direct form of expression, (" man,") and this periphrasis is given in the latter part of every such sentence, for the sake of a poetical repetition of the same idea in a slightly different form. Take for instance, Psalm viii. 4, " What is man, that thou art mindful of him"? or the son of man that thou \'isitest him 1" And exactly so in every other passage anterior to Daniel and Ezekiel, as Numbers xxiii. 19, Job xxv. 6, xxxv. 8, Isa. li. 12, Ivi. 2, and several other passages, to which any good concordance will direct the reader. The New Testament writers, too, apply this expression in other ways than as a name of Jesus Christ. It is given as a mere periphrasis, entirely synonymous with " man," in a general or abstract sense, without reference to any particular individual, in Mark iii. 28, fcompare Matt. xii. 31, where the simple expression " men" is given,) Heb. ii. 6, (a mere translation of Ps. viii. 4,) Eph. iii. 5, Rev. i. 13, xiv. 14. In the peculiar emphatic limitation to which this note refers, it is applied by Jesus Christ to himself about eighty times in the gospels, but is never used by any other person in the New Testament, as a name of the Savior, except by Stephen, in Acts iii. 56. It never occurs in this sense in the apostolic epistles. (Bretschneider.) For this use of the word, I should not think it necessary to seek any mystical or import- ant reason, as so many have done ; nor can I see that in its application to Jesus, it has any very direct reference to the circumstance of his having, though divine, put on a human nature ; but it is simply a nobly modest and strikingly emphatic form of expres- sion iised by him, in speaking of his own exalted character and mighty plans, and partly to avoid the too frequent repetition of the personal pronoun. It is at once evi- dent that this indirect form, in the third person, is both more dignified and modest in solemn address, than the use of the first person singular of the pronoim. Exactly similar to this are many forms of circumlocution with which we are familiar. The presiding officer of any great deliberative assembly, for instance, in announcing his own decision on points of order, by a similar periphrasis, says, " The Chair decides," &c. In fashionable forms of intercourse, such instances are still more frequent. In many books, where the writer has occasion to speak of himself, he speaks in the third person, " the author," &c. This periphrasis (" son of") is not peculiar to Oriental languages, as every Greek scholar knows who is familiar with Homer's common expression vug 'Axaioi'', (huu Mhaion,) " sons of Grecians," instead of " Grecians" simply, which, by a striking coincidence, occurs in Joel iii. 6, in the same sense. Other instances might be need- lessly multiplied. Thmi art a Rock, ^c. — This is the just translation of Peter's name, and the fores 72 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. of the declaration is best understood by this rendering. As it stands in the original, it is " Thou art Iltrpus, {Pclros, " a rock,") and on this Ucrpa (^Pelra, " a rock") I will *'uild my church,"— a play on the words so palpable, that great injustice is done to its force by a common, tame, unexplained translation. The variation of the words in the Greek, from the masculine to the feminine termination, makes no diflerence in the expression. In the Greek Testament, the feminine Trirpa (petra) is the only form of the word used as the common noun for " rock;" but the masculine irirpos (pe- tros) is used in the most finisiied classic writers of the ancient Greek, of the Ionic, Doric, and Attic, as Homer, Herodotus, Pindar, Xenophon, and, in the later order of writers, Diodorus Siculus. H. Stephens gives the masculine form as the primitive, but Schneider derives it from the feminine. This sin^ple and natural construction has, however, seemed to many of ancient' and modern times to be so replete with difficulties, and so irreconcilable with their notions of the character of Peter, and with the extent of the honor implied in the words, that they have sought other modes of interpretation. The full consideration of the various constructions that have been put on these words, would require a much larger space than the limits of this book will allow, and the vaslness of the subject may be appreciated from the circumstance that in Suicer'.s Thesaurus, the statement of the principal opinions of the Fathers fills eight large folio columns; (Vol. II. col. 098 — 706,)— and the condensed view of more modern opinions in Poole's Synopsis covers a very large folio page. All these statements of opinions may be briefly reduced to tbis. The great majority of the Fathers consider the words as re- ferring primarily to Peter, though this opinion is variously qualified in different Eassages, by such remarks as " that it was upon Peter's faith, rather than upon Peter imself, that the church v/as founded" — a nicety that may well be characterized as " a distinction without a difference;" for who supposes that the church could be said to be founded upon Peter, in any more personal sense, than that his zeal, faith, devo- tion, and energy, on this occasion manifested, should be the active means of establish- ing, extending, and governing the church of that Lord whom he had declared to be the Christ? But this is, after all, a secondary construction, and not the true primary grammatical relation of the words. The principles of syntax require that the words "ZAw rock" should refer to some substantive already expressed; and since there is no such abstract noun in the passage, as "faith" but, on the contrary, the name of Peter is just before mentioned with a palpable allusion to the paro7iomasia of Peiros and Petra, every rule of grammar and common sense makes it necessary to infer that Jesus applied the words, " this rock," to Peter. This reference to the etymological signification of proper names is by no means unusual in the solemn language of scrip- ture prophecy. The Hebrew prophets abound in such allusions, (Stuart's Heb. Gram. § 571 ;) and Jacob's prophecy (Gen. xlix.) is in many passages made up of faronumasiac on the names of his sons. And what shows that the Fathers considered the abstract reference as a secondary view, and that with them the personal reference to Peter was the primary natural application of the passage, is — the fact that the same Fathers who are quoted in support of this as opposed to a personal i-eference, do in other passages distinctly declare Peter himself to have been tlie foundation of the church. Thus Chrysostom, who is quoted as maintaining in some passages that Peter's confession was the foundation of the church, in very numerous passages calls Peter, the rock on which the church was founded, and explains the appellation by reference to the meaning of his name. 'Apijayhi rrtrpa, Kpriirli d(ja>>€VTos, — " the un- broken rock, the unshaken foundation." (Homil. 82.) — 'H KprirrU rw CKK-Xriaias, &c., — " The foundation of the church, — truly a rock, both in name and in deed." (Horn. 108.) — 'O (!io TOVTO K^riOoii IltTfiOf, tnciiav rJ} izirTTii neTTeTpuijjiivnf rjv, — " For this caUse, he was called a rock, {Petros,) because, in faith, he was of a rocky firmness." (Hom. 2, on Ps. li.) Chrysostom abounds in these exalted commendations of Peter, and, in several places, mentions him under such titles as — " the foundation of the church." (et/itXioi- TJK £/fxX;)v) of the apostles, — who is to us indeed a solid rock at the foundation of the faith, on which the church universal is built ; because he, first of all, acknowledged Jesus as the Christ, the son of the living God, and was told that on this rock of firm faith, Jesus would build his church." (Haeres. LIX. 8.) He elsewhere says that Peter was " manife.nly declared the great leader of the apostles." (Haer. LI. 17.) — Cyprian (A. D. 248, earlier than any before quoted) says, in three places, that " on Petrus, the church was built." (" Petrus, super quern ecclesia fundata est." Epist. 71, 72, bis.) — Tertullian (A. D. 192, the oldest authority on this text) says of Peter, that he was " called the rock on which the church was to be built." (Petrum, aedificandae ecclesiae petrani dictum. De praescriptione hereticorum, 22.) A testimony so an- cient, may well outweigh in authority the speculations of a hundred later Fathers, as to the original understanding of the text. — Origen may with equal propriety be ranked as unqualified testimony to the same effect, notwithstanding that he has been claimed as opposing the sole ascription of the honor to Peter. In his commentary on Matt. xvi. 16, he very beautifully extends the words of Christ from Peter (to whom he does not deny their primary application) to all who shall imitate the zeal and faith of Peter. In the interpretation which he gives, he grants, of course, that the primary application of the words of Jesus on that occasion, was to Peter, from whom he does not seek to detract a particle of the original honor of these exalted terms ; but he proceeds to make the following poetical, yet practical application. " If light from the Father who is in heaven do but shine in our heart, we shall become as Peter, and to us also it shall be said by the Word, ' Thou art Petros,' &c. For every disciple of Christ is a rock, upon which is built every doctrine of the church, and that conduct in life which accords with it." The whole passage, so far from denying (as some sup- pose) the primary application of the words to Peter, does most triumphantly confirm that view, by extending it secondarily to all who shall be inspired with that faith and zeal which moved Peter on that occasion. That to any other of the apostles who might be equally faithful and zealous, the same words might be applied, need not be denied ; but in the case recorded, the blessing, the promise, and the whole prophecy were ad- dressed to Peter solely and singly, nor was any part ever extended to the other apos- tles, except the assurance that what they should bind or loose on earth should be bound or loosed in heaven ; but all the rest remains the peculiar privilege of Peter. To him alone were given the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and he alone was declared blessed in the revelation of the truth from the Father ; and all these peculiar honors were in perfect consistence with the pre-eminence which was always granted to him. As Origen himself says, " Peter was probably j)ut first on the list of apo.stles, because he was more honorable than the rest; just as Judas was put last." (Comm. in Job. I. 42.) And finally, he says, that " on Peter was built the church of Christ." (In Euseb. H. E., Vl. 19.) Thus far all the testimonies of the Fathers are shown, in efiect, to harmonize, in 74 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. ascribing the reference of this declaration to Peter, and many more might be shown to the same purport. But Augusiin (A. D. 397) was the first to maintain that by the words — " this rock," Jesus meant himself, and really had no direct reference at all to Peter in the utterance of the expression — " upon this rock I will build my church." This opinion has been adopted and earnestly defended in modern limes by some of those who were seeking the means of combating that Papal tyranny which based its blasphemous claims to Divine right on this passage. A nost of Gallic and of Protestant commentators, whose names, though great, cannot outweigh the evi- dence in favor of a better view, have maintained this ground. (For the list of these authors, and the details of their opinions, see Poole's Synopsis and Wolf's Curae, iii loc.) The necessity of explaining away this noble pre-eminence of Peter, (which seems to have been the grand motive of the perversion among moderns,) is however entirely obviated and removed, by the fact that even though we should give up to the Papists all which they demand not only for Peter's eminence, but also for his power and suprcviacij over the apostles and the whole church, all the conclusions which they have so boldly drawn from this in favor of any superior authority, or even emi- nence of the church of Rome, are just as foolishly false, as would be similar infe- rences in favor of any other church claiming the name of Christian in any part of the world. The church of Rome has no more connexion with Peter than the church of Novogorod or of St. Petersburgh has; and any pretension that Peter ever founded or noticed the church of Rome, or made it the inheritor of his power and honor as the head of the apostolic company, can be proved to be as idle and unfounded as the claim also set up by the Roman see to the power of working miracles, of forgiving sins, and the possession of the keys of heaven ; and its falsity will be thus proved in the right place, in the course of this work. The fullest and most masterly exhibition of the papistical argument on this point, is found in Natalis Alexander's " Historia Ecclesiastica." (Vol. I. pp. 170 — 175, and pp. 191 — 207.)— Baronius has also an argument of some length on this subject in his Annales. (A. C. 33, §§ IG— 27.) — The true and just defense of this primary application of the words may be found in Cameron, on the passage. His argument is most triumphantly displayed in Poole's Synopsis, where it is shown to be perfectly con- sistent with the firm maintenance of Protestant ground. Among the most eminent modern supporters of Augustin's reference of it to Christ, are Maldonati, Erasmus, Lightfoot, and Wolf. The two latter may be consulted for the best specimens of this argument. After this distinct profession of faith in him by his disciples, through Peter, Jesus particularly and solemnly charged them all, that they should not then assert their belief to others, lest they should thereby be drawn into useless and unfortunate contests about their Master, with those who entertained a very different opinion of him. For Jesus knew that his disciples, shackled and possessed as they were with their phantasies about the earthly reign of a Mes- siah, were not, as yet, sufficiently prepared to preach this doctrine : and he wisely foresaw that the mass of the Jewish people would either put no faith at all in such an announcement, or that the ill disposed and ambitious would abuse it, to the purposes of effecting a political revolution, by raising a rebellion against the Roman rulers of Palestine, and oversetting foreign power. He had, it is true, already sent forth his twelve apostles, to preach the coming of the kingdom ; but that was only to the effect that the time of the Messiah's reign was nigh, and that the lives and hearts of all must be changed, — all which the apostles might well preach, with- out pretending to announce who .'^e Messiah was. Peter's discipleship. 75 his ambitious hopes and their humiliation. This avowal of Peter's belief that Jesus was the Messiah, to which the other apostles gave their assent, silent or loud, was so clear and hearty, that Jesus plainly perceived their persuasion of his divine authority to be so strong, that they might now bear a decisive and open explanation of those things which he had hith- erto rather darkly and dimly hinted at, respecting his own death. He also, at this time, brought out the full truth more clearly, as to the miseries which hung over him, and his expected death, with the view the more effectually to overthrow those false notions which they had preconceived, of earthly happiness and triumph to be expected in the Messiah's kingdom ; and with the view, also, of preparing them for the events which must shortly happen ; lest, after they saw him nailed to the cross, they should all at once lose their high hopes, and utterly give him up. He knew, too, that he had such influence with his disciples, that if their minds were shocked, and their faith in him shaken, at first, by such a painful disclosure, he could soon bring them back to a proper confidence in him. Accordingly, from this time, he began distinctly to set forth to them, how he must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things from the elders, and chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again on the third day. There is much room for reasonable doubt, as to the manner in which those who heard this declaration of Christ, understood it at the time. As to the former part of it, namely, that he would be ill-treated by the great men of the Jewish nation, both by those ruling in the civil and in the religious government, it was too plain for any one to put any but the right meaning upon it. But the promise that he should, after this horrible fate, rise again from the dead on the third day, did not, as it is evident, by any means convey to them the mean- ing which all who read it now, are able to find in it. Nothing can be more plain to a careful reader of the gospels, than that his disciples and friends had not the slightest expectation that he would ever appear to them after his cruel death ; and the mingled horror and dread with which the first news of that event was received by them, shows them to have been utterly unprepared for it. It required repeated positive demonstration, on his part, to assure them that he was truly alive among them, in his own form and character. The question then is — what meaning had they all along given to the numerous declarations uttered by him to them, 76 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. apparently foretelling this, in the distinct terms of which the above passage is a specimen ? Had they understood it as we do, and yet so absolutely disbelieved it, that they put no faith in the event itself, when it had so palpably occurred ? And had they, for months and years, followed over Palestine, through labors, and troubles, and dangers, a man, who, as they supposed, was boldly endeavoring to saddle their credulity with a burden too monstrous for even them to bear ? They must, from the nature of their con- nexion with him, have put the most unlimited confidence in him, and could not thus devotedly have given themselves up to a man whom they believed or suspected to be constantly uttering to them a falsehood so extravagant and improbable. They must, then, have put some meaning on it, different from that which our clearer light enables us to see in it ; and that meaning, no doubt, they honestly and firmly believed, until the progress of events showed them the power of the prophecy in its wonderful and literal fulfil- ment. They may have misunderstood it, in his lifetime, in this way : a universal characteristic of the language of the children of Shem, seems to be a remarkable proneness to figurative expres- sions ; and the more abstract the ideas which the speaker wishes to convey, the more strikingly material are the figures he uses, and the more poetical the language in which he conveys them. Teach- ers of morals and religion, most especially, have, among those na- tions of the East, been always distinguished for their highly figu- rative expressions, and none abound more richly in them than the writers of the Old and New Testament. So peculiarly effective, for his great purposes, did Jesus Christ, in particular, find this variety of eloquence, that it is distinctly said of him, that he sel- dom or never spoke to the people without a parable, which he was often obliged to expound more in detail, to his chosen followers, when apart with them. This style of esoteric and exoteric in- struction had early taught his disciples to look into his most ordi- nary expressions for a hidden meaning ; and nothing can be more likely than that often, when left to their own conjectures, they, for a time at least, overleaped the simple Hteral truth, into a fog of figurative interpretations, as too many of their very modern suc- cessors have often done, to their own and others' misfortune. We certainly know that, in regard to those very expressions about raising the dead, there was a very earnest inquiry among the three chief apostles, some time after, as will be mentioned in place, showing that it never seemed possible to them that their Lord, Peter's discipleship. ^71 mighty as he had showed himseh', could ever mean to say to them, that, when his bitter foes had crowned his hfe of toil and cares with a bloody and cruel exit, he — even He, could dare to promise them, that he would break through that iron seal, which, when once set upon the energies of man, neither goodness, nor valor, nor knowledge, nor love, had ever loosened, but which, since the first dead yielded his breath, not the mightiest prophet, nor the most inspired, could ever break through for himself The figure of death and resurrection, has often been made a striking image of many moral changes ; — of some one of which, the hearers of Jesus probably first interpreted it. In connexion with what he had previously said, nothing could seem more natural to them, than that he, by this peculiarly strong metaphor, wished to remind them that, even after his death by the envious and cruel hands of Jewish magistrates, in but a few days, his name, — the ever fresh influence of his bright and holy example, — the undying powers of his breathing and burning words, should still live with them, and with them triumph over the momentary struggles of the enemies of the truth. The manner, also, in which Simon Peter received this commu- nication, shows that he could not have anticipated so glorious and dazzling a result of such horrible evils : for, however literally he may have taken the prophecy of Christ's cruel death, he used all his powers to dissuade his adored master from exposing himself to a fate so dark and dreadful, — so sadly destructive of all the new-born hopes of his chosen followers, and from which the con- clusion of the prophecy seemed to oifer no clear or certain mode of escape. Never before, had Jesus spoken in such plain and de- cided terms about the prospect of his own terrible death. Peter, whose heart had just been lifted up to the skies with joy and hope, in the prospect of the glorious triumphs to be achieved by his Lord through his means, and whose thoughts were even then dwelling on the honors, the power, the fame, which were to accrue to him for his share in the splendid work, — was shocked beyond measure, at the strange and seemingly contradictory view of the results, now taken by his great leader. With the confident fami- harity to which their mutual love and intimacy entitled him, in some measure, he laid his hand expostulatingly upon him, and drev/ him partly aside, to urge him privately to forget thoughts of despondency, so unworthy of the great enterprise of Israel's resto- ration, to which they had all so manfully pledged themselves as his 78 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. supporters. We may presume, that he, in a tone of encourage- ment, endeavored to show him how impossible it would be for the dignitaries of Jerusalem to withstand the tide of popularity which had already set so strongly in favor of Jesus ; that so far from looking upon himself as in danger of a death so infamous, from the Sanhedrim, he might at the head of the hosts of his zealous Galileans, march as a conqueror to Jerusalem, and thence give laws from the throne of his father David, to all the wide territories of that far-ruling king. Such dreams of earthly glory seemed to have filled the soul of Peter at that time ; and we cannot wonder, then, that every ambitious feeling within him recoiled at the gloomy announcement, that the idol of his hopes was to end hi? days of unrequited toil, by a death so infamous as that of the cross. — " Be it far from thee, Lord," (" God forbid," " Do not say so," " Do not thus damp our courage and high hopes,") " This must not happen to thee." — Jesus, on hearing these words of ill- timed rebuke, which showed how miserably his chief follower had been infatuated and misled by his foolish and carnal ambition, turned away indignantly from the low and degraded motives, by which Peter sought to bend him from his holy purposes. Not deigning to look upon him, but turning to the other disciples, who had kept their feelings of regret and disappointment to themselves, he, in the most energetic terms, expressed his abhorrence of such notions, by his language to the speaker. " Get thee behind me, Satan ; thou art a scandal to me ; for thou savorest not the things which be of God, but the things which be of men." — " In these fervent aspirations after eminence, I recognize none of the pure devotion to the good of man, which is the sure test of the love of God ; but the selfish desire for transient, paltry distinction, which characterizes the vulgar ambition of common men, enduring no toil or pain, but in the hope of a more than equal earthly re- ward speedily accruing." — After this stern reply, which must have strongly impressed them all with the nature of the mistake of which they had been guilty, he addressed them still further, in continuation of the same design of correcting their false notion of the earthly advantages to be expected by his companions in toil. He immediately gave them a most untempting picture of the char- acter and conduct of him who could be accepted as a fit fellow- worker with Jesus. " If any one wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and let him. take up his cross," (as if we should say, let him come with his baiter around his neck, and with the gibbet Peter's discipleship. 79^ on his shoulder,) " and follow me. For whosoever shall save his life for my sake, shall lose it ; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it. For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the ^dJioU world, eind lose his own soul 1 For the Son of Mem shall come in the glory of his Father, with his angels ; and then, he shall reward every man according to his works." " I solemnly tell you, there are some standing here who shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom."—" In vain would you, in pursuit of your idle dreams of earthly glory, yield up all the powers of yuur soni, and spend your life for an object so worthless. After all, what is there in all the world, if you should have the whole at your disposal — what, for the momentary enjo5'-ment of which, you can calmly pay down your soul as the price ? Seek not, then, for rewards so unworthy of the energies which I have recognized in you, and have devoted to far nobler purposes. Higher honors will crown your toils and suflerings, in my service ; — nobler prizes are seen near, with the eye of faith. Speedily will the frail monuments of this world's wonders crumble, and the memory of its greatnesses pass away ; but over the ruins of kingdoms, the coming of the Man to whom you have joined yourselves is sure ; and in that triumphant advent, you shall find the imperishable requital of your faithful and zealous works. And of the nature and aspect of the glories which I now so dimly shadow in words, some of those who now hear me shall soon be the living witnesses, as of a foretaste of rewards, whose full en- joyment can be yours, only after the weariness and misery of this poor life are all passed. Years of toil, dangers, pain, and sorrow, — lives passed in contempt and disgrace, — deaths of ignominy, of unpitied anguish, and lingering torture, must be your passage to the joys of which I speak ; while the earthly honors which you now covet, shall for ages continue to be the prize of the base, the cruel, and the foolish, from whom you vainly hope to snatch them." THE TRANSFIGURATION. The mysterious promise thus made by Jesus, of a new and pe- culiar exhibition of himself, to some of his chosen ones, he soon sought an occasion of executing. About six or eight days after this remarkable conversation, he took Peter, and the two sons of Zebedee, James and John, and went with them into a high moun- tain, apart by themselves. As to the name and place of this 80 LltTES OP THii AP0S1LE3. mountain, a matter of some interest certainly, there have been two opinions among those who have attempted to illustrate the topo- graphy of the gospels. — The phrase, " a high mountain," has in- stantly brought to the thoughts of most learned readers, Mount Tabor, famous for several great events in Bible history, which they have instantly adopted, without considering the place in which the previous account had left Jesus, which was Caesarea Philippi ; already described as in the farthest northern part of Gal- ilee. Now, Mount Tabor, however desirable in other particulars, as the scene of a great event in the life of Jesus, was full seventy miles south of the place where Jesus had the conversation with his disciples, which led to the remarkable display which followed a few days after, on the mountain. It is true, that the intervening period of a week was sufficient to enable him to travel this dis- tance with ease ; but the difficulty is, to assign some possible ne- cessity or occasion for such a journey. Certainly, he needed not to have gone thus far to find a mountain, for Caesarea Philippi itself stands by the base of Panium, which is a part of the great Syrian range of Antilibanus. This great mountain, or mountain chain, rises directly behind the city, and parts of it are so high above the peak of Tabor, and every other mountain in Palestine, as to be covered with snow, even in that warm country. The original readers of the gospel story, were dwellers in Israel, and must have been, for the most part, well acquainted with the character of the places which were the scenes of the incidents, and could hardly have been ignorant of the fact, that this splendid city, so famous as the monument of royal pride and gratitude, was near the northern end of Palestine, and, of course, must have been known even by those who had never seen it, nor heard it particu- larly described, to be very near the great Syrian mountains ; so near, too, as to be very high elevated above the cities of the south- ern country, since not far from the city gushed out the most dis- tant sources of the rapid Jordan. But another difficulty, in respect to this journey of seventy miles to Tabor, is, that while the gospels give no account of it, it is even contradicted by Mark's statement, that after departing from the mountain, he passed through Galilee, and came to Capernaum, which is between Tabor and Caesarea Philippi, twenty or thirty miles from the former, and forty or fifty from the latter. Now, that Jesus Christ spared no exertion of body or mind, in " going about doing good," no one can doubt ; but that he would spend the strength devoted to useful purposes, Peter's discipleship. 81 in traveling from one end of Galilee to the other, for no greater good than to ascend a particular mountain, and then to travel thirty miles back on the same route, is a most unnecessary tax upon our faith. But here, close to Caesarea Philippi, was the mighty range of Antilibanus, known in Hebrew poetry by the name of Hermon, in this part ; and He, whose presence made all places holy, could not have chosen, among all the mountains of Palestine, one which nature had better fitted to impress the be- holder who stood on the summit, with ideas of the vast and sub- lime. Modern travelers assure us that, from the peaks behind the city, the view of the lower mountains to the south, — of the plain through which the young Jordan flows, soon spreading out into the broad sheet of lake Houle, (Samachonitis lacus,) and of the country, almost to lake Tiberias, is most magnificent. The pre- cise peak which was the scene of the event here related, it is im- possible to conjecture. It may have been any one of three which are prominent : either the castle hill, or farther oiF and much higher, Mount Bostra, once the site of a city, or, farther still, and highest of all, Merum Jubba, which is but a few hours walk from the city. The general impression of the vulgar, however, and of those who take the traditions of the vulgar and the ignorant, with- out examination, has been, that Tabor was the scene of the event ; so that, at this day, it is known among the Christians of Pa- lestine, by the name of the Mount of the Transfiguration. iSo idly are these foolish local traditions received, that this falsehood, so palpable on inspection, has been quietly handed down from the time of the devoutly credulous empress Helena, when hundreds of these and similar localities, were hunted up so hastily, and by per- sons so ill-qualified for the search, that more modern investigators may be pardoned for treating with so little consideration the voice of such antiquity, when it is found opposed to a rational and con- sistent understanding of the gospel story. When the question was first Eisked, '-'Where is the mount of the transfiguration?" there were enough persons interested to reply, " Mount Tabor." No reason was probably asked for the decision, and none was given ; but as the scene was acted on a high mountain in Galilee, and as Tabor answered perfectly to this very simple description, and was moreover interesting on many other accounts, both historical and natural, it was adopted for the transfiguration without any discus- sion whatever, among those on the spot. Still, to learned and diligent readers of the gospels, the inconsistencies of such a belief 82 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. have been so obvious, that many great theologians have decided, for the reasons here given, that the transfiguration must have taken place on some part of Mount Panium,as it was called by the Greeks and Romans ; known among the Jews, however, from the earliest times, by the far older name of Mount Hermon. On the determi- nation of this point, more words have been expended than some may deem the matter to deserve ; but among the various objects of the modern historian of Bible times, none is more important or interesting, than that of settling the often disputed topography of the sacred narrative; and as the ground here taken differs so widely from the almost universally received opinion, the minute reasons were loudly called for, in justification of the author's bold- ness. The ancient blunder here detected, and shown to be based only upon a guess, is a very fair specimen of the way in which, in the moral, as in the natural sciences, " they all copy from one another," without taking pains to look into the truth of small mat- ters. And it seems to show, moreover, how, when men of patient and zealous accuracy, have taken the greatest pains to expose and correct so causeless an error, common readers and writers, too, will carelessly and lazily slip back into the old blunder, thus making the counsels of the learned of no effect, and loving dark- ness rather than light, error rather than exactness, because they are too shiftless to find a good reason for what is laid down before them as truth. But so it is. It is, and always has been, and always will be, so much easier for men to swallow whole, or reject whole, the propositions made to them, that the vast majority had much rather believe on other people's testimony, than go through the harassing and tiresome task of looking up the proofs for them- selves. In this very instance, this important topographical blun- der was fully exposed and corrected a century and a half ago, by Lightfoot, one of the greatest Hebrew scholars that ever lived ; and we see how much wiser the world is for his pains. Caesarea Philippi. — This city stood where all the common maps place it, in the farthest northern part of Palestine, just at the foot of the mountains, and near the fountain head of the Jordan. The name by which it is called in the gospels, is an- o^ner instance, like Julias Bethsaida, of a compliment paid by the servile kings, of the divisions of Palestine, to their imperial masters, who had given, and who at any time could take away, crown and kingdom from them. The most ancient name by which this place is known to have been mentioned in the Hebrew scriptures, is Lasha, in Genesis x. 19, afterwards variously modified into Les/iem, (Joshua xix. 47,) and Laish, (Judges xviii. 7, xiv. 29,) a name somewhat like the former in soimd, though totally different in meaning, (acrS leskem., " a precious stone," and Br^"? laish, " a lion,") undoubtedly all three being from the same root, (and bearing only an accidental resem- blance to the two Hebrew words just quoted,) but variously modified in the changing pronunciations of different ages and tribes. In the earUest passage, (Gen, x. 19,) it Peter's discipleship. 83 is clearly described as on the farthest northern limit of the land of Canaan, and after- wards being conquered, later than most of that region, by a band of the tribe of Dan, and receiving the name of this tribe, as an addition to its former one, it became {)roverbially known imder the name of Dan, as the farthest northern point of the and of Israel, — Beersheba being the southern one. It did not, however, lose its early Canaanitish name till long after ; for, in Isaiah x. 30, it is spoken of under the name of Laish, as the most distant part of Israel to which the cry of the distressed could reach. It is also mentioned under its later name of Dan, in Gen. xiv. 14, and Deut. xxxiv. 1, where it is given by the writer, or some copyist, in anticipation of the sub- sequent account of its acquiring this name after the conquest. Josephus also men- tions it, under this name, in Ant. book I. chap. x. and book VIII. chap. viii. sect. 4, in both which places he speaks of it as standing at one of the sources of the Jordan, from which circumstance, no doubt, the latter part of the river's name is derived. After the overthrow of the Israelitish power in that region, it fell into the hands of new possessors, and under the Greeks and Romans, went by the name of Panias, (Josephus and Ptolemy,) or Paneas, (Josephus and Pliny,) which name, according to Ptolemy, it had under the Phoenicians. This name, supposed to have been taken from the Phoenician name of the mountain near, Josephus gives to it, in all the later periods of his history, until he speaks of the occasion on which it received a new change of name. Its commanding and remarkable position, on the extremity of Palestine, made it a frontier post of some importance ; and it was therefore a desirable addition to the do- minions of Herod the Great, who received it from his royal patron, Augustus Caesar, along with its adjacent region between Galilee and Trachonitis, after the death of Zenodorus, its former possessor. (Jos. Ant. XV. x. 3.) Herod the Great, out of gratitude for this princely addition to his dominions, at a time when attempts were made to deprive him of his imperial master's favor, raised near the city a noble monument to Augustus. (Jos. as above quoted.) " He built a monument to him, of white marble, in the land of Zenodorus, near Panium. There is a beautiful cave in the moimtain, and beneath it there is a chasm in the earth, rugged, and of immense depth, full of still water, and over it hangs a vast mountain ; and under the cave rise the springs of the Jordan. This place, already very famous, he adorned with the temple which he consecrated to Caesar." A lofty temple of white marble, on such a high spot, contrasted with the dark rocks of the mountain and cave around, must have been a splendid object in the distance, and a place of frequent resort. This city, along with the adjacent provinces, after the death of the iirst Herod, was given to his son Philip, made tetrarch of Iturea and Trachonitis. This prince, out of gratitude to the royal donor, at the same time when he rebuilt and repaired Beth- saida, as alreadj^ mentioned, " also embellished Paneas, at the fountains of the Jordan, and gave it the name of Caesarea." (Jos. Ant. book XVIII. chap. ii. sec. 1, also Jewish War, book II. chap. ix. sec. 1.) and to distinguish it from other Caesareas, hereafter to be mentioned, it was called from the name of its royal builder, Caesarea Philippi, that is, " the Caesarea of Philip." By this name it was most commonly known in. the time of Christ ; but it did not answer the end of perpetuating the name of its builder and his patron, for it shortly afterwards received its former name, Paneas, which, probably, never went wholly out of i\se. As late as the time of Pliny, (about A. D. 70,) Paneas was a part of the name of Caesarea. " Fons Paneas, qui cognomen dedit Caesareae," — "■ the foimtain Paneas, which gave to Caesarea a surname ;" (Plin. Nat. Hist, book v. chap. 1.5:) which shows that, at that time, the name Paneas was one, by which even foreign geographers recognized this city, in spite of the imperial dignity of its new title. Eusebius (about A. D. 315) speaks of " Caesarea Philippi, which the Phoenicians call Paneas, at the foot of moimt Panium." (iXi7nroD Kii- capcia i> Jlavca^a ^oiviKei TOoaayoptiovcn, &C. Hist. EcC. book vii. chap. 17.) Jcrome (about A. D. 392) never mentions the name Caesarea Philippi, as belonging to this cit\', except in commenting on Matt. xvi. 13, where he finds it necessary to explain, this name, as an antiquated term, then out of use. " Caesaream Philippi, quae nunc di- citur Paneas,"—" Caesarea Philippi, which is nmc called Paneas ;" and in all the other ? laces where he has occasion to mention the place, he gives it only the name of Paneas. :'hus, in commenting on Amos viii. 14, he says, " Dan, on the boundary of the Jewish territor}', which nmv is Paneas." And on Jerem. iv. 15, — " The tribe Dan, near mount Lebanon, and tlie city which is nmo called Paneas," &c. — See also his commentary on Daniel xi. 16. After the death of Philip, this city, along with the rest of his dominions, was pre- sented by Caius Caligula to Agrippa I., and, after his death, was ultimately given by 84 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. Claudius Caesar to Agrippa II., who added still farther to the improvements made by Philip, more particularly ornamenting the Panium, or famous source of the Jordan, near the city, as Josephus testifies. (Jewish War, book III. chap. x. sect. 7 ) " The natural beauty of the Panium, moreover, was still more highly adorned {i:poetion of the common assembly of the apostles. The absolute necessity of some such rule, for the very existence of the apostles' union, was plain enough. They were men, with all the passions and frailties of common, unedu- cated men, and with all the peculiar, fervid energy, which charac- terizes the physiology of the races of southwestern Asia. From the constant attrition of such materials, no doubt individually dis- cordant in temperameiit and coastituticm, how could it be hopeoj 98 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. that, ill the common course of things, there would not arise fre- quent bursts of hnmun j)ab.sion, to mar and hinder the divine work which brought thrnn to:^elh'.'r7 With a most wise providence for these liabilities to disagreement, Jesus had just arranged a princi- ple of reliiience and quiot decision, in all cases of dispute in which the bond oi Christian fellowship would be strained or broken. His charge to tliem, all and each, was this : " If thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone. If he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother ; but if be will not hear thee, take with thee on thy second call, one or two more, that, according to the standard forms of the Mo- saic law, by the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established. And if he shall refuse to hoar them, tell it at last to the conimon assembly of the apostles ; and after they have given their decision in :(avor of the justice of the complaint and demand, if he still maintain his enmity and wrong against thee, thou art no longer held by the a])OStolic pledge to treat him with brotherly regard; but having slighted all friendly advice, and the common seniim.int of the brethren, tie has lost the privilege of their fellow- ship, and must.be to thee as one of the low worid around him — a heathen and an outcast Jew." On this occasion, also, he renewed to ilicra all, the commission to bind and loose, which he had belbre particuiorly delivered only to Peter. As he had, in speaking of the treatment, made abundant requisitions for the exercise of for- bearance, without mentioning the proper limit to these acts of forgiveness, Peter now puts the question: "If my brother sin against me seven times, and as often make tJic reparation which I may honestly ask, shall I continue to forgive him?"; That is,*" Shall !• not seem, by these repeated acts of. forbearance, at last to be offeriii/T him inducornents to oifeud .against one so placable? And if these transgressions are thus enormously multiplied, will it not be right that I should withhold the kind consideration^ which is made of so little account?" The ans\^er of Jesus vis, ■ *o thee, not merely till seven times, but till r..-.:--^-t:r lii, ' That is, ." To your forbearance towards r : >; C!i;! i ti brother, there should be ' i biii uu- a.&r ■> to his error. In ,coming _ _. ^. m the v, me, \\'it 'rivc given up your natural rights to gfi^' »aally, those injuries ' moi. . ,^ nee. Thep^'J.,'l•vati•^ community to which you Jiave joined yourself is of so much im- Peter's discipl^ship. 99 portance to the triumphant advaiicemi i^f. ot' our cause, as to re- quire justly all these sacrifices of per-nnal feeling." With his usual readiness in securing an. abiding ruaiemhrancc of his great leading rules of action, Jesus, on this occiusion, concluded the sub- ject with illustrating the principle, by a beautiful parable or story ; a mode of instruction, far more impressive to the glowing iinagi- nation of the Oriental, than to the more calculating geriuis of colder races. This inquiry may have been suggested to Peter by a remark made by Christ, wliich is not gi\'-en by Matthew as by Lulie, (xvii. 4.) " If he sin against thee seven times in a day, and seven times turn again, &c. thou shalt forgive him." So Maldonali sug- gests; but it is certainly very hard to bring these two accounts to a miiinlo harmony, and I should much prefer to consider Luke as having given a genera! statement of Christ's doctrine, without referring to the occasion or circumstances, wliile Matthew has given a more distinct account of the whole matter. The discrepancy beiween the two accounts has seemed so great, that the French harmonists, as well as New- come, Le Clerc, Macknight, Thirhvall, and Bloomfield, consider them as relerring to totally different occasions, — that in Matthew occurring in Capernaum, but that in Luke, after his journey to Jerusalem to the feast of the tabernacles. But the utter absence of all chronological order in the greater part of Luke's go>pel is crough to make us suspect, ihat the event he alludes to may coincide with ihai of Mauhew's story, since the amount of the precept, and the general form of expression, is the same in both cases. This is the view taken by RosenmiiUer, Kuinoel, Vatcr, Clarke, Paulus ; and it seems to be further justified by the consideration, that the repe- tition of the precept must have been entirely unnecessary, after having been so clearlv laid down, and so fully re-examined in answer to Peter's inquiry, as given by MaUh'ew, (xviii. 1.5— 22.) Seven times. — This number was a general expression among the Hebrews for a frequent repetition, and was perfectly vague and indefinite as to the number of repe- titions, as is shown in many instances in the Bible where it occurs. Severity times seven, was another expression of the recurrences carried to a superlative number, and is also a standard Hebraism, (as in Gen. iv. 24.) See Poole, Lightfoot, Clarke, Scott, and other commentators, for Rabbinical illustrations of these phrases. A heathen and an mtloast. — This latter expression I have chosen, as giving best the full force of the name pvblicari, which designated a class of men among the Jews, who were considered by all around them as having renounced national pride, honor, and religion, for the base purpose of worldly gain^ serving under the Roman govern- ment as tax-gatherers, that is, hiring the taxes of a district, which they took by pay- ing the government a definite sum, calculating to make a rich profit on the bargain by S5'^stematic extortion and oppression. The name, therefore, was nearly synony- mous with the modern word renegade, — " one who. for base motives, has renoimced tbe creed and customs of his fathers." THE JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM. The occurrence which occasioned this discussion, took place at Capernaum, where Jesus seems to have resided with his apostles for some time after his northern tour to Caesarea Philippi, giving them, as opportunity suggested, a great number and variety of practical instructions. At length he started with them, on his last journey to Jerusalem, the only one which is recorded by the three first evangeUsts, although John gives us accounts of three pre- vious visits to the Jewish capital. On this journey, while he was passing on to Jerusalem, by a somewhat circuitous course, through 100 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES, that portion of Judea which hes east of the Jordan, he had taken occasion to remark, (in connexion with the disappointment of the rich young man, who could not give up his wealth for the sake of the gospel,) how hard it was for those that had riches, and put their trust in them, to join heartily in the promotion of the cause of Christ, or share in the honors of its success. Peter, then, speak- ing for himself and the faithful few who had followed Jesus thus far through many trials, to the risk and loss of much worldly pro- fit, reminded Jesus of what they had given up for his sake. " Be- hold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee. What shall we have therefore?" The solemn and generous assurance of Jesus,- in reply, was, that those who had followed him thus, should, in the final establishment of his kingdom, when he should receive the glories of his triumph, share in the highest gifts which he, conqueror of all,, could bestow. Then those who had forsaken kindred and lands, for his sake, should find all these sacrifices made up to them, in the enjoyment of rewards incalculably be- yond those earthly comforts in value. " Behold, we have forsaken all" — Chrysostom has an aMmated commentary on this passage. In one of his homilies, he begins with this text, (Matt. xix. 27,) and imme- diately breaks into a bold apostrophe to the apostle himself. — " All things 1 What things'? O blessed Peter ! Thy reed 1 (i. e. fishing-pole;) Thy net 1 Thy boat 1 Thy business ■? Are these what thou eallest all 7 ' Yes,' he says ; ' but not in the spirit of ambition (or vain glory) do I say this ; but that by this inquiiy I may bring the poor into the scope of the injunction.' For since the Lord said — ' If thou wilt be perfect^ sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shall have treasure in heaven' — lest any poor man should say — ' If I have nothing at all, I cannot be perfect,' — Peter inquires, in order that )'ou may learn that, though poor, you are not the worse for that. Peter inquires, so that, learning from Peter, you may not be in doubt on this point, while yet imperfect and devoid of the graces of the Spirit, — but, receiving this explanation from Peter, as from a teacher, may rejoice in hope. For even as we do, when, in disputing on behalf of others, we often make their cause our own, — so did the apostle in presenting this inquiry on behalf of the v;^hole world. From what was before said, it is manifest that he must have understood these things perfectly, as far as regarded himself; for having already received the keys of heaven, much more might he have confidence as to what was in heaven. Observe, also, how exactly his answer implies what Christ required. For he asked of the rich man these two things — to give his property to the poor — and to follow him. Wherefore, Peter also mentions these two things — ' leaving all— and following thee;' for the leaving of all things was for the sake of following him; and while the following of him was made the easier for their having forsaken all, he, for the same reason, gave them occasion, to hope and rejoice, in promising them that they should sit on twelve thrones," &c. — (Chrysostom. In Matt. xix. Homil. 65.— Vol. 7, pp. 563, 564, Ed. Commelin. 1617.) The ignorance which Chrysostom here manifests, in perverting the plain import of the passage, for the sake of reconciling Peter's apparent simplicity with his supposed spiritual exaltation, is perfectly characteristic of the Fathers of the age in wliicb this homily was written. It is manifest that the sacred text contains nothing that •warrants the supposition that Peter asked the question for the sake of any person but himself and his lellow-di.sciplcs ; and every sound, common-sense rule of interpreta- tion, forbids such a construction as Chrysostom has put upon his motives. Another important error in Chrysostom's reasoning is his assertion that Peter had " received the keys of heaven." Notliing in the Bible offers the least shadow of a support to this impious conception. Christ never gave nor even promised to give any mortal Peter's discipleship. 101 ** the kejrs ofkeaven." His promise to Peter was—" I will give thee the keys of the king- dom of heaven," — a very different thing from heaven itself. For in none of the words of Jesus is this phrase used in any sense like " heaven." " The kingdom of heaven" was the kingdom or reign of Christ on earth ; it was, in modern terms,— the Christian dispensation ; and Peter was individually and personally entrusted with the mighty charge of opening that kingdom or dispensation to the Gentiles, — a charge which he did afterwards actually execute. But heaven is the place where the redeemed and the good are to enjoy tueir eternal reward ; it is the peculiar home of God, and of his angels, — higher than the noblest human conception can reach, — vaster than any space which human sight can glance over. How daring then the blasphemy of him who claims for any mortal the keeping of the entrance to the throne of God, and to the happiness which He has reserved in his own good pleasure for the blessed subjects of His grace ! The DATS of this journey to Jerusalem is fixed by Baronius in the latter part of the thirty-third, year of Christ, and the sevent-eenth of the reign of Tiberius Caesar; which is corrected by Antony Pagi to A. D. 31, of the common era, — corresponding to the eighteenth oi (hQ reign of Tiberius. — Baillet (Vies des Saints. 29 Juin, col. 343) puts it in the latter part of the year 32; but his Chronology is not of so high au- thority as that of Pagi, who is probably as near the truth as any one can expect to be on such very uncertain data. This conversation took place just about as they were passing the Jordan, into the western section of Judea, near the spot where Joshua and the Israehtish host of old passed over to the conquest of Canaan. A little before they reached Jericho, Jesus took a private opportunity to renew to the twelve his oft-repeated warn- ing of the awful events, now soon to happen after his entry into Jerusalem. " Behold, we go up to Jerusalem ; and the Son of Man shall be betrayed to the chief priests and to the scribes, and they shall condemn him to death. And they shall deliver him to the heathen, to mock, and to scourge, and to crucify him ; and the third day he shall rise again." Yet, distinct as was this declara- tion, and full as the prediction was in these shocking particulars, Luke assures us, that " they understood none of these things ; and this saying was hid from them ; neither knew they the things which were spoken." Now, we cannot easily suppose that they believed that he, to whom they had so heartily and confidently devoted their lives and fortunes, was trying their feelings by an unnecessary fiction, so painful in its details. The only just sup- position which we can make, then, is, that they explained all these predictions to themselves, in a way best accordant with their own notions of the kingdom which the Messiah was to found, and on the hope of whose success they had staked all. The account of his betrayal, ill-treatment, and disgraceful death, they could not literally interpret as the real doom which awaited their glorious and mighty Lord ; it could only mean, to them, that for a brief space, the foes of the Son of God were to gain a seeming triumph over the hosts that were to marcli against Jerusalem, to seat him on the throne of David. The traitorous heads of the Jewish faith, 102 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. the members of the great Sanhedrim, the hypocritical Pharisees, and the lying, avaricious lawyers, would, through cowardice, self- ishness, envy, jealousy, or some other meanness, basely conspire to support their compound tyranny, by attempting to crush the head of the new faith, with the help of their Roman masters, whom they would summon to the aid of their falling power. This unpatriotic and treacherous effort would for a time seem to be per- fectly successful ; but only long enough for the traitors to fill up the measure of their iniquities. Then, vain would be the com- bined efforts of priest and soldier, — of Jewish and of Roman power. Rising upon them, like life from the dead, the Son of God should burst forth in the might of his Father, — he should be revealed from heaven with ten thousand angels, and recalling his scattered friends, who might have been for a moment borne down before the iron hosts of Rome, he should sweep every foreign master, and every domestic religious tyrant, from Israel's heritage, — setting up a throne, whose sway should spread to the uttermost parts of the earth, displacing even the deep-rooted hold of Roman power. What then would be the fate of the faithful Galileans, who, though few and feeble, had stood by him through evil and good report, risking all on his success ? When the grinding tyranny of the old Sanhedrim had been overthrown, and chief priests, scribes, Phari- sees, lawyers, and all, displaced from the administration, the chosen ones of his own early adoption, his countrymen, and intimate com- panions for years, would be rewarded, sitting on twelve thrones, judging the ransomed and victorious twelve tribes of Israel. Could they doubt their Lord's ability for this glorious, this miraculous achievment ? Had they not seen him maintain his claim for au- thority over the elements, over diseases, over the dark agencies of the demoniac powers, and over the mighty bonds of death itself? And could not the same power achieve the still less wonderful vic- tory over the opposition of these unworthy foes 7 It was natural then, that, with the long cherished hopes of these dazzling tri- umphs in their minds, the twelve apostles, though so often and so flilly warned of approaching evils, should thus unsuspectingly persist in their mistake, giving every terrible word of Jesus such a turn as would best confirm their baseless hopes. Even Peter, already sternly rebuked for his forward effort to exalt the ambition of Jesus above even the temporary disgrace which he seemed to foreordain for himself, — and so favored with the private instruc- tions and counsels of his master, thus erred j — even James and Peter's discipleship. 103 John, also sharers in the high confidence and favor of Jesus, though thus favored and taught, were immediately after brought under his deserved censure for their presumptuous claims for the ascendency, which so moved the wrath of the jealous apostles, who were all alike involved in this monstrous and palpable mis- conception. Nor yet can we justly wonder at the infatuation to which they were thus blindly given up, knowing as we do, that in countless instances, similar error has been committed on similar subjects, by men similarly influenced. What Biblical commentary, interpretation, introduction, harmony, or criticism, from the earliest Christian or Rabbinic fathers, to the theological schemer of the latest octavo, does not bear sad witness on its pages, to the won- derful infatuation which can force upon the plainest and clearest declaration, a version elaborately figurative or painfully literal, just as may most comfortably cherish and confirm a doctrine, or notion, or prejudice, which the writer would fain " add to the things which are written in the book?" Can it be reasonably hoped, then, that this untaught effort to di'aw out the historical truth of the gospel, will be an exception to this harshly true judg- ment on the good, the learned, and the critical of past ages ? THE ENTRY INTO THE CITY. With these fruitless admonitions to his followers, Jesus passed on through Jericho to Bethphage, on the verge of the Holy city. Here, the enthusiastic and triumphant rejoicings, which the pre- sence of their Master called forth from the multitudes who were then swarming to Jerusalem from all parts of Palestine, must have lifted up the hearts of the apostles, with high assurance of the nearness of the honors for which they had so long looked and waited. Their irrepressible joy and exultation burst out in songs of triumph, as Jesus, after the manner of the ancient judges of Israel, rode into the royal seat of his fathers. And as he went down the descent of the Mount of Olives, to go into the city, the whole train of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God, with a loud voice, for all the mighty works which they had seen ; say- ing, " Blessed be the King of Israel, that cometh in the name of the Lord ! Peace in heaven ! Glory in the highest ! Blessed be the kingdom of our father David ! Hosanna !" These acclamations were raised by the disciples, and heartily joined in by the multi- tudes who knew his wonderful works, and more especially those who were acquainted with the very recent miracle of raising Laza- 104 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. nis. A great sensation of wonder was created throughout the city, by such a burst of shouts from a multitude, sweeping in a long, imposing train, with palm branches in their hands, down the mountain, on which they could have been seen all over Jerusalem. As he entered the gates, all the city was moved to ask — " Who is this ?" And the rejoicing multitude said — " This is Jesus, the pro- phet of Nazareth in Galilee,"' What scorn did not this reply awaken in many of the haughty aristocrats of Jerusalem, to learn that all this solemn parade had been got up for no better purpose than merely to honor a dweller of that outcast region of mongrels, Galilee ! And of all places, that this prophet, so called, should have come from Nazaretli ! A prophet from Galilee, indeed ! Was it from this half-heathen district, that the favored inhabitants of the capital of Judaism were to receive a teacher of religion ? Were the strict faith, and the rigid observances of their learned and de- vout, to be displaced by the presumptuous reformations of a self- taught prophet, from such a country ? Swelling with these feel- ings, the Pharisees could not repress a remonstrance with Jesus, against these noisy proceedings. But he, evidently affected with pleasure at the honest tribute thus wrung out in spite of sectional feeling, forcibly asserted the propriety and justice of this free of- fering of praise : — " I tell you, that if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out." Amid the loud hosannas that rung from the summit and slope of Olivet, giving utterance to the joy of the thronging thousands who roared their exulting welcome to the acknowledged Lord and King of Israel, one " still, small voice" was gently uplifted in tones of sorrow and mourning ; and while all other eyes flashed only wild rejoicing or amazement, his were wet with tears, — not of the pure joy that the good and the great may nobly feel in the hour of well-earned triumph, — not of the divine delight with which the just homage and adoration of those he came to redeem might well inspire the Son of God, — still less of the baser sympathies of hu- man pride or carnal ambition ; — but tears of grief, of compassion for human wretchedness, dimmed the splendors of the eye that glanced over heaven and earth, yet saw no created equal. While all " the mountains round about Jerusalem" were echoing from west to east the shouts that spoke only joy, and while the depths of the valley were sending the notes of praise back to the rock and up to the lofty colonnades of the temple, — he, the adored of all adorers, the joy and hope of thousands, wept — even for those Peter's discipleship. 105 who rejoiced in his coming, as well as for the malignant few who looked on and listened with scorn. — " When he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying — ' O ! that thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things that are for thy peace ; but now they are hidden from thine eyes. For the day shall come upon thee, when thine enemies shall draw a trench around thee, and shall encompass thee, and enclose thee on every side, and shall level thee to the ground, and thy children within thee, and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another ; be- cause thou knewest not the time of thy visitation.' " From the western side of Olivet, his eye glanced on the Holy city, encir- cled by the arapliitheatric range of mountains, which completely enclosed it from the distant pilgrmi's view, except where the lofty golden roof and white columns of the eastern front of the temple flashed with peculiar brightness over the highths. Jerusalem, — • the desire of all Israel, the city of David, the peculiar dwelhng- place of God's earthly presence, — here rose on the pilgrim's eye in a glory wliich no distant dream could ever have equaled. The light of ages illumined the scene ; and the glory of the Shechinah shone in the column of incense that rose over all in the smoke of the temple-sacrifice : — all that antiquity or religion could brighten and hallow came at once to view. Well might the heart of the Israelite bound with triumph and dehght m such a prospect. W^ell might his exultation utter itself in hosannas, as he hailed the city in the presence of him who now came to bring back the glories of David to this their ancient seat. But other feelings moved the heart of him whose approach was the inspiration of that joy. No human feeling of patriotism or pride could overcome in his mind the prophetic perception of the fate that was so soon to dim and darken all those glories. Knowing with a certainty as clear as the remembrance of the past, the awful events wliich were so soon to occur within those walls, desolating its beauty and defiling its sanctity, — how could he feel any other than mournful sensations and sympathies for the place and the people ? — the place on which such horrible ruin was about to fall ! — the people who were to bring down that ruin by their future crimes against God and his Son, and were to sink in it to a woe that even his mercy could not avert ! With palm^branches in their hands. — This tree, the emblem of joy and trinmph in every part of the world where it is known, was the more readily ad.opted on this oc- casion, by those who thronged to swell the triumphal train of Jesus of Nazareth, be- cause the palm grew along the way-side where they passed, and the whole moxmt was 106 LIVES Of THE APOSTLES. hardly less rich in this than in the far famed olive from which it drew its name. A proof of the abundance of the palm-trees on Olivet is found in the name of the vil- lage of Bethany, ••3>n n-^a, (bet/i-hen^,) " house of dates," which shows that the tree which bore this fruit must have been plentiful there. The people, as they passed on with Jesu^ from this village, whence he started to enter the city, would therefore find this token of triumph hanging over tKi ; heads, and shading their path everywhere with- in reach ; and the emotions of joy i Leir approach to the city of God in the company of this good and mighty prophet, t impted them at once to use the expressive em- blems which hung so near at hand ; am; '/hich were alike within the reach of those who journeyed with Jesus, and those v ). • came forth from the city to meet and escort him in. The presence of these triun ■■ a1 signs would, of course, remind them at once of the feast of the tabernacles, the aay on which, in obedience to the Mosaic sta- tute, all the dwellers of the city were accu.stomed to go forth to the mount, and bring home these branches with songs of joy. (Levit. xxiii. 40, Nehem. viii. 15, 16.) The remembrance of this festival at once recalled also the beautifully appropriate words of the noble national and religious hymn, which they always chanted in praise of tlie God of their fathers on that day, (see Kuinoel, Rosenrntiller, Wolf, &c.) and which was su peculiarly applicable to him who now " came in the name of the Lord," to honor and to bless his people. (Ps. cxviii. 26.) — (See Lightfoot, Cent. Chor. 41.) The descent of the Mount of Olives. — To imagine this scene, with something of the force of reality, it must be remembered that the Mount of Olives, so often mentioned in the scenes of Christ's life, rose on the eastern side of Jerusalem, beyond the valley of the Kedron, whose little stream flowed between this mountain and Mount Moriah, on which the temple stood. Mount Olivet was much higher than any pari of the city within its walls, and the most commanding and satisfactory view of the Hoi}'' city which modern travelers and draughtsmen have been able to present to us in a picture, is that from the more than classic summit of this mountain. The great northern road passing through Jericho approaches Jerusalem on its northeastern side, and comes directly over the top of Olivet, and as it mounts the ridge, it brings the Holy city in all its glory, directly on the traveler's view. Hosanna. — This also is an expression taken from the same festal hymn, (Ps. cxviii. 25.) Ns-njj^tt'in (hoshia-na) a pure Hebrew expression, as Drusius shows, and not ^ri- ac, (See Poole's Synopsis on Matt. xxi. 9,) but corrupted in the vulgar pronunciation of this frequently repeated hymn, into Hosanna. The meaning of the Hebrew is " Save him" or " Be gracious to him," that is, in connexion with the words which fol- low in the gospel story, " Be gracious, O Lord, to the son of David." This is the same Hebrew phrase which, in the psalm above quoted, (verse 25,) is translated " Save now." The whole expression was somewhat like the English " God save the king," in its import. Nazareth. — This city, in particular, had an odious name, for the general low char- acter of its inhabitants. The passage in John i. 46, shows in what estimation this city and its inhabitants were held, by their own neighbors in Galilee; and the great scorn with which all Galileans were regarded by the Jews, must have redoubled their con- tempt of this poor village, so despised even by the despicable. The consequence was that the Nazarenes acquired so low a character, that the name became a sort of by- word for what was mean and foolish. (See Kuinoel on Matt. ii. 23, John i. 46. Also Rosenmiiller on the former passage and Bloomfield on the latter.) Galilee. — In order to appreciate fully, the scorn and suspicion with which the Galileans were regarded by the citizens of Jerusalem, a complete view of their sectional peculiarities would be necessary. Such a view will hereafter be given in connexion with a passage which more directly refers to those peculiarities, and more especially requires illustration and explanation. The account of the weeping of Jesus over Jerusalem is given only by Luke, (xix. 41 — 44.) Those points in which the forms of expression in Christ's words are changed from the common translation, are in accordance with the standard commen- tators. (See Poole's Synopsis, Doddridge's Expositor, Kuinoel, &c. in loc.) THE BLIGHTING OF THE FIG-TREE. Having thus, by his piibhc and triumphant entrance into Jeru- salem, defied and provoked the spite of the higher orders, while he secured an attentive hearing from the common people, when «?? ^ Peter's discipleship. 107 he should wish to teach them, — Jesus retired at evening, for the sake of quiet and comfort, to the house of his friends, Lazarus, Mary, and Martha, at Bethany, in the suburbs. Tlie next morn- ing, as lie was on his way witli his disciples, coming back from this place to Jerusalem, hungry with the fatigues of his long walk, he came to a fig-tree, near the path, hoping to find fruit for his re- freshment, as it seemed from a distance flourishing with abun- dance of leaver, and was then near the season of bearing. But when he car:ie near, he found nothing but leaves on it, for it was somewhat oackward, and its time of producing figs was not yet. And Jesi^s, seizing the opportunity of this disappointment to im- press his< disciples with his power, personifying the tree, denounced destruct>ion against it, — " May no man eat fruit of thee hereafter, forever." And his disciples heard it. They returned to Bethany, as usuaH, that evening, to pass the night ; but as they passed, pro- bably aFter dark, they took no notice of the fig-tree. But the next mornin; r^ as they went back to the city, they saw that it had dried up froi^i the roots. Simon Peter, always ready to notice the in- stance is of his Master's power, called out in surprise to Jesus, to witneits the efiect of his malediction upon its object. " Master, beholed, the fig-tree which thou didst curse, is withered away." JesuF to noticing their amazement at the apparent efiect of his words, in sQejsmall a matter, took occasion to turn their attention to other and diigher objects of faith, on which they might exert their zeal in ardjpirit, not of withering denunciation and destroying wrath, suci- fsts they had seen so tremendously efiicient in this case, but in ivne spirit of love and forgiveness, as well as of the holy energy thftoriaould overthrow and overcomxe difiiculties, not less than to uyur aij Mount Olivet from its everlasting base, and hurl it into tlere pon tl ioUS n THE DISCUSSIONS WITH THE SECTARIES. portabUe disciples steadily remained the diligent and constant at- pointsvits of their heavenly teacher, in his long and frequent sea- chosen if instruction in the temple, where he boldly met the often mountaied attacks of his various adversaries, whether Herodians, gloom i, Pharisees, or Sadducees ; and in spite of their long-trained There i^ies, beat them out and out, with the very weapons at which in their (hought themselves so handy. The display of genius, of s^ide rolling, distant sea. which -v^ who he£ loiuniing, of ready and sarcastic wit, and of heart-search- ,euess, was so amazing and superhuman, that these few 15 108 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. days of open discussion established his divinely intellectual supe- riority over all the elaborate science of his accomplished opponents, and at the same time secured the fulfilment of his destiny, by the spile and hatred which their repeated public defeats excited in them. Imagine their rage. Exposed thus before the people, by whom they had hitherto been regarded as the sole depositaries of learning, and adored as the fountains of right, +hey saw all their honors and power, to which they had devoted the Intense study of their whole lives, snatched coolly and easily from thei ■<, by a name- less, untaught pretender, who was able to hold them up, baffled and disgraced, for the amusement of the jeering multitude. Here was ground enough for hatred, — the hatred of conceitea and in- tolerant false learning, against the discerning soul that ha& stripped and humbled it, — the hatred of confident ambition agcinst the heroic energy which had discomfited it, and was doing much to free a long enslaved people from the yoke which formal hvrpocrisy and empty parade had long laid on them. And again, t \e into- lerable thought that all this heavy disgrace had been broi ght on the learned body of Judaism by a Galilean ! a mere carped iter of the lowest orders, who had come up to Jerusalem foUowe* by a select train of rude fishermen and outcast publicans ; ano who, not being able to command a single night's lodging in th ' city, was in the habit of boarding and lodging in a paltry sub [' ■'^ the charity of some personal friends, from which place he hi ^"7 walked in for the distance of two miles every morning, to t • ^P"- over the palace-lodged heads of the Jewish faith. From ^"^ ^ man, thus humbly and even pitiably circumstanced, such ci€,r^^" sion and overthrow could not be endured ; and his ruin -^ (>» ^- dered doubly easy by his very insignificance, which no^f*^^ ly- ^ tuted the chief disgrace of their defeat. Never was co^ w closely followed by its effect, than this insulted dignity cruel venereance. ^ Tli THE PROPHECY OF THE TEMPLE's RUIN, teildil In preparing his disciples for the great events w ''Ons rfe take place in a few years, and which were to have a renew ence on their labors, Jesus foretold to them the destr scribe temple. As he was passing out through the mighty subtle temple on some occasion with his disciples, one of th< '^'ley the gorgeous beauty of the architecture and the matf *^i-''' tlie proudly exulting devotion of a patriotic and relig. ing 'tdi soe beS ir l>n e Peter's discipleship. 109 to hiin, " Master, see ! what stones and what buildings !" To him, Jesus replied with the awful prophecy, most shocking to the na- tional pride and religious associations of every Israelite, — that ere long, upon that glorious pile should fall a ruin so complete, that not one of those splendid stones should be left upon another. These words must have made a strong impression of wonder on all who heard them ; but no further details of the prophecy were given to the disciples at large. Not long afterwards, however, as he sat musingly by himself, in his favorite retirement, half-way up the Mount of Olives, over against the temple, the four most loved and honored of the twelve, Peter, James, John, and Andrew, came to him, and asked him privately, to tell them when these things should be, and by what omen they should know the approach of the great and wpful ruin. Sitting there, they had a full view of the enormous pile which rose in immense masses very near them, on the verge of Mount Moriah, and was even terraced up, from the side of the slope, presenting a vast wall, rising from the depths of the deep ravine of Kedron, which separated the temple from Mount Olivet, where they were. It was morning when the con- versation took place, as we may fairly guess, for this spot lay on the daily walk to Bethany, where he lodged ; — the broad walls, high towers, and pillars of the temple, were doubtless illuminated by the full splendors of the morning sun of Palestine ; for Olivet was directly east of Jerusalem, and as they sat looking westward towards the temple, with the sun behind them, the rays, leaving their faces in the shade, would shine full and bright on all which crowned the highth beyond. It was at such a time, as the Jewish historian assures us, that the temple was seen in its fullest gran- deur and sublimity ; for the light, falling on the vast roofs, which were sheeted and spiked with pure gold, brightly polished, and upon the turrets and pinnacles which glittered with the same pre cious metal, was reflected to the eye of the gazer with an insup- portable brilliancy, from the million bright surfaces and shining points which covered it. Here, then, sat Jesus and his four adoring chosen ojies, with this splendid sight before them crowning the mountain, now made doubly dazzling by contrast with the deep gloom of the dark glen below, which separated them from it. There it was, that, with all this brightness and glory and beauty in their view, Jesus solemnly foretold in detail, the awful, total ruin which was to sweep it all away, within the short hves of those who heard him. Well might such words sink deep into their 110 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. hearts, — words coming from lips whose perfect and divine truth they could not doubt, though the things now foretold must have gone wofiilly against all the dreams of glory, in which they had made that sacred pile the scene of the future triumphs of the faith and followers of Christ. This sublime prophecy, which need not here be repeated or descanted upon, is given at great length by all the three first evangelists, especially by Matthew. The vicv) of the temple. — I can find no description by any writer, ancient or mo- dern, which gives so clear an account of the original shape of Mount Moriah, and of the modifications it underwent to fit it to support the temple, as that given by Jose- phus. (Jew. War, book V. chap, v.) In speaking of the original founding of the temple by Solomon, (Ant. book VIII. chap. iii. sec. 2,) he says, " The king laid the foundations of the temple in the very depths, [at the bottom of the descent.] using stones of a firm structure, and able to hold out against the attacks of lime; so that growing inio a union, as it were, with the ground, they might be the basis and sup- Eort of the pile thai was to be reared above, and through their strength below, easily ear the va.^^t mass of the great superstructure, and the immense weight of ornament also ; for the weight of those things which were contrived for beauty and magnificence was not less than that of the materials which contributed to the highth and lateral di- mension." In the full description which he afterwards gives in the place first quoted, of the latter temple as perfected by Herod, which is the building to which the account in the text refers, he enters more fully into the mode of shaping the ground to the temple. " The temple was founded upon a peaked hill ; but in the first beginning of the structure there was scarcely flat ground enough on the top for the sanctuary and the altar, for it was abrupt and precipitous all around. And king Solomon, when he built the sanctuary, having walled it out on the eastern side, [tKTetxi(Tnvroi, that is, ' having built out a wall on that side' for a terrace,] then reared upon the terraced earih a colonnade; but on the other sides the .sanctuary was naked, — [that is, the wall was unsupported and unornamented by colonnades as it was on the east.] But in the course of ages, the people all the while beating down the terraced earth with their footsteps, the hill thus growing flat was made broader on the top; and having taken down the wall on the north, they gained considerable ground which was afterwards enclosed within the outer court of the temple. Finally, having walled the hill en- tirely around with three terraces, and having advanced the work far beyond any hope that could have been reasonably entertained at first, spending on it long ages, and all the sacred treasures accumulated from the ofl^erings sent to God from the ends of the world, they reared around it, both the upper courts and the lower temple, walling the latter up, in the lowest part, from a depth of three hundred cubits, [450 feet,] and in some places more. And yet the whole depth of the foundations did not show itself, because they had greatly filled up the ravines, with a view to bring them to a level with the streets of the city. The stones of this work were of the size of forty cubits; [60 feet;] for the profusion of means and the lavish zeal of the people advanced the improvements of the temple beyond account; and a perfection far above all hope was thus attained by perseverance and time. (Jos., Jew. War, book V. chap. v. sec. 1.) " And well worthy of these foundations were the works which stood upon them. For all the colonnades were double, consisting of pillars twenty-five cubits [40 feet] in highth, each of a single stone of the whitest marble, and were roofed with fret- work of cedar. The natural beauty of these, their high polish and exquisite propor- tion, presented a most glorious show; but their surface was not marked by the super- fluous embellishments of painting and carving. The colonnades were thirty cubits broad, [that is, forty-five feet from the front of the columns to the wall behind them ;] while iheir whole circuit embraced a range of six stadia, ("more than three quarters of a mile !] including the castle of Antonia. And the whole hypethrum [maiOpuv, the floor of the courts or inclosures of the temple, which was exposed to the open air, there being no roof above it] was variegated by the stones of all colors with which it was laid," [making a sort of Mosaic pavement.] (Sec. 2.) * * • * " The outside of the sanctuary, too, lacked nothing that could strike or dazzle the mind and eye. For it was on all sides overlaid with massy plates of gold, so that in Peter's discipleship. Ill the first light of the. rising sun, it shot forth a most fiery splendor, which turned away the eyes of those who compelled themselves (mid. i3ta^oiuvi>vi) to gaze on it, as from the rays of the sun itself. To strangers, moreover, who were coming towards it, it shone from afar like a complete mountain of snow : for where it was not covered with gold it was most dazzlingly white, and above on the roof it had golden spikes, sharpened to keep the birds from lighting on it. And some of the stones of the build- ing were forty-five cubits long, five high, and six broad ;"— [or sixt}^-seven feet long, seven and a half high, and nine broad.] (Sec. 6.) " The Antonia was placed at the angle made by the meeting of two colonnades of the outer temple, the western and the northern. It was built upon a rock, fifty cubits high, and precipitous on all sides. It was the work of king Herod, in which, most of all, he showed himself a man of magnificent conceotions." (Sec. 8.) * * * In speaking of Solomon's foundation, he also says, (; Ant. book VIII. chap. iii. sec. 9,) " But he made the outside of the temple wonderful beyond account, both in de- scription and to sight. For having piled up huge terraces, from which, on account of their immense depth, it was hardly possible to look down, and reared them to the highth of four himdred cubits, [six hundred feet !] he brought them to the same level with the hill's top on which the sanctuary {yaoi) was built, and thus the open floor of the temple {hpov, or the outer court's inclosure) was level with the saiictuary." * * *i I have drawn thus largely from the rich descriptions of this noble and faithful de- scriber of the old glories of the Holy Land, because this very literal new translation gives the exact details of the temple's aspect, in language as gorgeous as the most high-wrought in which it could be presented in a mere fancy picture of the same scene ; and because it will prove that my conception of its glory, as it appeared to Christ and the four disciples who " sat over against it upon the Mount of Olives," is not overdrawn, since it is thus supported by the blameless and invaluable testimony of him who saw all this splendor in its most splendid day, and afterwards in its un- equaled beauty and with all its polished gold and marble, shining and sinking amid the flames, which swept it utterly away from his saddening eves forever, to a ruin the most absolute and irretrievable that ever fell upon the works of man. This was the temple on which the sons of Jonah and Zebedee gazed, with the awful denunciation of its utter ruin falling from their Lord's lips, and such was the desolation to which those terrible words devoted it. This full description of its loca- tion shows the manner in which its terraced foundations descended with their vast fronts, six hundred feet into the valley of Kedron, over which they looked. To give as clear an idea of the place where they sat, and its relations to the rest of the scene, I extract from Conder's Modem Traveler the following descriptions of Mount Olivet. " The Mount of Olives forms a part of a ridge of limestone hills, extending to the north and the southwest. Pococke describes it as having four summits. On the lowest and most northerly of these, which, he tells us, is called Sulrrmn Tashy, the stone of Solomon, there is a large domed sepulchre, and several other Muhammedan tombs. The ascent to this point, which is to the northeast of the city, he describes as very gradual, through pleasant corn-fields planted with olive-trees. The second summit is that which overlooks the city : the path to it rises from the ruined gardens of Gethsemane, which occupy part of the valley. About half-way up the ascent is a ruined monastery, built, as the monks tell us, on the spot where the Savior wept over Jerusalem. From this point the spectator enjoys, perhaps, the best view of the Holy- City." (Here Jesus sat, in our scene.) i. .n.. " The valley of Jehoshaphat, which lies between this mountain and the, hills oa which Jerusalem is built, is still used as a burial-place by the modern Jews, as it was by their ancestors. It is, generally speaking, a rocky flat, with a few patches of earth here and there, about half a mile in breadth from the Kedron to the foot of Mount Olivet, and nearly of the same length from Siloa to the garden of Gethsemane. The Jews have a tradition, evidently foimded on taking literally the passage in Joel iii. 12, that this narrow valley will be the scene of the final judgment. The prophet Je- remiah evidently refers to the same valley under the name of the valley of the son of Hinnom, or the valley of Tophet, the situation being clearly marked as being by the entry of the east gate. (Jer. xix. 2, 6.) Pococke places the valley of Hinnom to the south of Jerusalem, but thinks it might include part of that to the east. It formed part of the bounds between the tribes of Benjamin and Judah, (Jos. xv. 8. xviii. 16,) but the description is somewhat obscure." (Mod. Trav. Palestine, pp. 168, 172.) ^. , .^. . Conder, though usually so judicious and accurate in his topographical criticismaj 112 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. seems here to have mistaken the situation of these two valleys. The words of Je- remiah, (xix. 6,) describing the valley of the son of Hinnom, or Tophet, as being " by the entry oi the east gate," may be perfectly reconciled with the descriptions of travelers, who place this valley on the south side of Jerusalem. Fi.sk, the missionary, throws light on the difficulty, in describing his own route from the city to the valley of Tophet. He went out of the east gate of the city into the valley of the brook Ke- dron, (which is the same as the valley of Jehoshaphat,) and passing down that in a southerly direction, for a very short distance, to the southeastern angle of the hills on which the city stands, he " proceeded [from the brook Siloah, at this point] in a westerly direction to the valley of Hinnom, called also Tophet ;" and after going up this valley to its western end, re-entered the city at the " Jaffa gate," which is on the ■west side. The valley of Hinnom, or Tophet, seems therefore to have been a branch of the valley of Jehoshaphat, turning olf from it near the east gate, probably, and running east and west along the south side of Zion, or the southern section of the city; and the shortest way to it being from the east gate, and through that part of Jehoshaphat, the prophet might properly describe it, as he did. (Bond's Life of Fisk, pp. 289, 290.) Fisk says also — " We followed the bed of the Kedron at the fool of Mount Moriah. The hill is high and steep, and the wall of the city stands on its brink. On our left was Mount Olivet, still covered with olive-trees. ♦ * * The valley of Jehoshaphat was deep with steep sides. This valley, we are told, runs to the Dead Sea, but how far it bears the same name we do not know." ''Bond's Life of Fisk, chap. x. p. 289.) THE LAST SUPPER. Meanwhile the offended and provoked dignitaries of Judaism were fast making arrangements to crush the daring innovator, who had done so much to bring their learning and their power into contempt. Some of the most fiery spirits among them, were for defying all risks, by seizing the Nazarene openly, in the midst of his audacious denunciations of the higher orders ; and the attempt was made to execute this act of arbitrary power ; but the mere hirelings sent upon the errand, were too much awed by the un- equaled majesty of the man, and by the strong attachment of the people to him, to be willing to execute their commission. But there were old heads among them, that could contrive safer and surer ways of meeting the evil. By them it was finally deter- mined to seize Jesus when alone or unattended by the throngs which usually encompassed him, — to hurry him at once secretly through the forms of law necessary for his commitment, and then to put him, as a condemned rioter and rebel, immediately into the hands of the Roman governor, who would be obliged to order his execution in such a way as that no popular excitement would rescue the victim from the grasp of the soldiery. This was the plan which they were now arranging, and which they were pre- pared to execute before the close of the passover, if they could get intelligence of his motions. These fatal schemes of hate could not have been unknown to Jesus ; yet the knowledge of them made no difference in his bold devotion to the cause for which he Peter's discipleship. 113 came into the world. Anxious to improve the few fast fleeting hours that remained before the time of his sufferings should come on, and desirous to join as a Jew in this great national festival, by keeping it in form with his disciples, he directed his two most confidential apostles, Peter and John, to get ready the entertain- ment for them in the city, by an arrangement made with a man already expecting to receive them. This commission they faith- fully executed, and Jesus accordingly ate with his disciples the feast of the first day of the passover, in Jerusalem, with those who ■sought his life so near him. After the supper was over, he deter- mined to use the brief remncint of time for the purpose of uproot- ing that low feehng of jealous ambition which had already made so much trouble among them, in their anxious discussions as to who should be accounted the greatest, and should rank as the ruler of the twelve. To impress the right view upon their minds most effectually, he chose the oriental mode of a ceremony which should strike their senses, and thus secure a regard and remem- brance for his words which they might fail in attaining if they were delivered in the simple manner of trite and oft-spoken oral truisms. He therefore rose after supper, and leaving his place at the head of the table, he laid aside his upper garments, which, though appropriate and becoming him as a teacher, in his hours of public instruction or social commimion, were yet inconvenient in any active exertion which needed the free use of the limbs. Being thus disrobed, he took the position and character of a menial upon him, and girding himself with a towel, he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet in it, wiping them with his towel. He accordingly comes to Simon Peter, in the dis- charge of his servile office ; but Peter, whose ideas of the majesty and ripening honors of his Master were shocked at this extraordi- nary action, positively refused to be even the passive instrument of such an indignity to one so great and good, — first inquiring, " Lord, dost thou wash my feet ?" Jesus, in answer, said to him, " What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know here- after." That is — " this apparently degrading act has a hidden, useful meaning, at this moment beyond your comprehension, but which you will learn in due time." Peter, however, notwith- standing this plain and decided expression of Christ's wise deter- mination to go through this painful ceremony, for the instruction of those who so unwillingly submitted to see him thus degraded, — still led on by the fiery ardor of his own headlong genius, — 114 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. manfully persisted in his refusal, and expressed himself in the most positive terms possible, saying to Jesus, " Thou shalt never wash my feet." Jesus answered, " If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me." This solemn remonstrance had the effect of checking Peter's too forward reverence, and in a tone of deeper submission to the wise will of his Master, he yielded, replying, however, " Lord, wash not my feet only, but also my hands and my head." Since so low an office was to be performed by one so venerated, he would not have the favor of his blessed touch con- fined to the baser limbs, but desired that the nobler parts of the body should share in the holy ablution. But the high purpose of Jesus could not accommodate itself to the whims of his zealous disciple ; for his very object was to take the humblest attitude be- fore them, by performing those personal offices which were usually committed to slaves. He therefore told Peter — " He that is washed needs not, save to wash his feet, but is clean in every part ;" — a very familiar and expressive illustration, alluding to the circum- stance that those who have been to a bath and there washed them- selves, will on their return find themselves wholly clean, except such dust as may cling to their feet as they have passed through the streets on their route. And any one may feel the force of the beautiful figure, who has ever gone into the water for the pur- poses of cleanliness and refreshment, on a warm summer's day in this country, and has found by experience that, after all possible ablution, on coming out and dressing himself, his wet feet in con- tact with the srround have become loaded with dirt which demands new diligence to remove it ; and as all who have tried it know, it requires many ingenious efforts to return with feet as clean as they came to the washing ; and in spite of all, after the return, an in- spection may forcibly illustrate the truth, that " he that is washed, though he is clean in every part, yet needs to wash his feet." Such was the figure with which Jesus expressed to his simple-minded and unlettered disciples, the important truth, that since they had been already wash3d, (baptized by John or himself,) if that wash- ing had been effectual, they could need the repurification only of their feet — the cleansing away of such of the world's impure thoughts and feelings as had clung to them in their journeyings through it. So, after he had washed their feet, and had taken his garments and sat down again, he said to them, " Know ye what I have done to you ? Ye call me Master and Lord ; and ye say well, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your Peter's discipleship. 115 feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you this as an example, that ye should do as I have done to you. Truly the servant is not greater than his lord, neither is the em- bassador greater than him that sent him. If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them ;" — a charge so clear and simple, and so full, that it needs not a word of conmient to show any reader the full force of this touching ceremony. Shortly after, in the same place and during the same meeting, Jesus speaking to them of his near departure, affectionately and sadly said, " Little children, but a little while longer am I with you. Ye shall seek me ; and as I said to the Jevvs, 'whither I go, ye cannot come,' — so now I say to you." To this Simon Peter soon after replied by asking him, " Lord, whither goest thou ?" Jesus answered him, " Whither I go, thou canst not follow me now, but thou shalt follow me afterwards." Peter perhaps begin- ning to perceive the mournful meaning of this declaration, replied, still urging, " Lord, why cannot I follow thee now ? I will lay down my life for thy sake." Jesus answered, " Wilt thou lay down thy life for my sake ? I tell thee assuredly, the cock shall not crow till thou hast denied me thrice." Soon after, at the same time and place, noticing the confident assurance of this chief dis- ciple, Jesus again warned him of his danger and his coming fall. " Simon ! Simon ! behold, Satan has desired to have you, {all,) that he may sift you as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee, (especially,) that thy faith fail not ; and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren." Never before had higher and more distinctive favor been conferred on this chief apostle, than by this sad prophecy of danger, weakness, and sin, on which he was to fall, for a time, to his deep disgrace ; but on him alone, when rescued from ruin by his Master's peculiar prayers, was to rest the task of strengthening his brethren. But his Master's kind warning was for the present lost on his immovable self-esteem ; he repeated his former assurance of perfect devotion through every danger : — " Lord, I am ready to go with thee into prison and to death." Where was affectionate and heroic devotion ever more affectingly and determinedly ex- pressed ? What heart of common man would not have leaped to meet such love and fidelity 1 But He, with an eye still clear and piercing, in spite of the tears with which affection might dim it, saw through the veil that would have blinded the sharpest human judgment, and coldly met these protestations of burning zeal with the chilhng prediction again uttered: — " I tell thee, Peter, il6 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. the cock shall not crow this day, before thou shalt thrice deny that thou knowest me." Then making a sudden transition, to hint to them the nature of the dangers which would soon try their souls, he suddenly reverted to their former security. " When I sent you forth without purse, or scrip, or shoes, did ye need any thing ?" And they said, " Nothing." Then said he to them, " But now, let him that has a purse, take it, and likewise his scrip } and let him that has no sword sell his cloak and buy one." They had hitherto in their wanderings, everywhere found friends to support and protect them ; but now the world was at war with them, and they must look to their own resources both for supply- ing their wants and guarding their lives. His disciples readily apprehending some need of personal defense, at once bestirred themselves and mustered what arms they could on the spot, and told him that they had two swords among them ; and of these it appears that one was in the hands of Peter. It was natural enough that among the disciples these few arms were found, for they were all Galileans, who, as Josephus tells us, were very pugnacious in their habits ; and even the followers of Christ, notwithstanding their peaceful calling, had not entirely laid aside their former weapons of violence, which were the more needed by them, as the journey from Galilee to Jerusalem was made very dangerous by robbers, who lay in wait for the defenseless traveler wherever the nature of the ground favored such an attack. Of this character was that part of the road between Jerusalem and Jericho, alluded to in the parable of the wounded traveler and the good Samari- tan,— a region so wild and rocky that it has always been danger- ous, for the same reasons, even to this day •, of which a sad in- stance occurred but a few years ago, in the case of an eminent English traveler, who, going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, fell among thieves and was wounded near the same spot mentioned by Christ, in spite of the defenses with which he was provided. It was in reference to such dangers as these, that two of his dis- ciples had provided themselves with hostile weapons ; and Peter may have been instigated to carry his sword into such a peaceful feast, by the suspicion that the danger from the chief priests, to which Christ had often alluded, might more particularly threaten them while they were in the city by themselves, without the safe- guard of their numerous friends in the multitude. The answer of Jesus to this report of their means of resistence was not in a tone to excite them to the very zealous use of them. He simply Peter's discipleship. 117 said — " It is enough ;" a phrase which was meant to quiet them, by- expressing his httle regard for such a defense as they were able to offer to him, with this contemptible armament. Some have conjectured that this washing of the feet (page 113) was a usual rite at the Paschal feast. So Scaliger, Beza, Baronius, Casaubon, and other learned men have thought. (See Poole's Synopsis, on John xiii. 5.) But Buxtorf has clearly shown the falsity of their reasons, and Lightfoot has also proved that it was a per- fectly unusual thing, and that there is no passage in all the Rabinnical writings whioh refers to it as a custom. It is manifest indeed, to a common reader, that the whole peculiar force of this ablution, in this instance, consisted in its being an entirely un- usual act- and all its beautiful aptness as an illustration of the meaning of Jesus, — that thej'' should cease their ambitious strife for precedence, — is lost in making it any thing else than a perfectly new and original ceremony, whose impressiveness mainly consisted in its singularity. Lightfoot also illustrates the design of Jesus still farther, by several interesting passages from the Talmudists, showing in what way the ablu- tion would be regarded by his disciples, who, like other Jews, would look upon it as a most degraded action, never to be performed except by inferiors to superiors. These Talmudic authorities declare, that " Among the duties to be performed by the wife to her husband, this was one, — that she should wash his face, his hands, and his feet." {3Iaimonidcs on the duties of wovien.) The same office was due from a son. to his father, — from a slave to his master — as his references show ; but he says he can find no precept that a disciple should perform such a duty to his teacher, imless it be included in this, " The teacher should be more honored by his scholar than a father." He also shows that the feet were never washed separately, with any idea of legal purification,— though the Pharisees washed their hands separately with this view, and the priests washed their hands and feet both, as a form of purification, but never the feet alone. And he very justly remarks upon all this testimony, that " the farther this action of Christ recedes from common custom, the higher its fitness for their in- struction,— being performed not merely for an example, but for a precept. (Light- foot's Hor. Heb. in ev. Joh. xiii. 5.) Laid aside Ids garments. — The simple dress of the races of western Asia, is always distinguishable into two parts or sets of garments, — an inner, which covered more or less of the body, fitting it tightly, but not reaching far over the legs or arms, and con- sisted either of a single cloth folded round the loins, or a tunic fastened with a girdle ; sometimes also a covering for the thighs was subjoined, making something like the rudiment of a pair of breeches. (See Jahn Arch. Bib. § 120.) These were the perma- nent parts of the dress, and were always required to be kept on the body, by the com- mon rules of decency. But the second division of the garments, (" superindiimenta," Jahn,) throuTi loosely over the inner ones, might be laid aside on any occasion, when active exertion required the most unconstrained motion of the limbs. One of these was a simple oblong, broad piece of cloth, of various dimensions, but generally about three yards long and two broad, which was wrapped around the body like a mantle, the two upper corners being dra'^Ti over the shoulders in front, and the rest hanging down the back, and falling around tne front of the body, without any fastenings but the folding of the upper corners. This garment was called by the Hebrews n'?DB' or Tfohv, {sivilah or salmak,) and sometimes nJ3, {begedh;) — by the Greeks, iitanov, {hi- moAion.) Jahn, Arch. Bib. This is the garment which is always meant by this Greek word in the New Testament, when used in the singular number,— translated " cloak" in the common English version, as in the passage in the text above, where Jesus ex- horts him that has no sword to sell his clouk and buy one. When this Greek word occurs in the plural, (i/iUTia, himatia,) it is translated " garments," and it is notice- able that in most cases where it occurs, the sense actually requires that it should be understood only of the outer dress, to which I have referred it. As in Matt. xxi. 8 where it is said that the people spread their garments in the way, — of course only their outer ones, which were loose and easily thrown off, without indecent exposure. So in Mark xi. 7, 8-, Luke xix. 35. There is no need then of supposing, as Origen does, that Jesus took off all his clothes, or was naked, in the modern sense of the term. A variety of other outer garments in common use both among the earlv and the later Jews, are described as minutely by Jahn in his Archaeologia Biblica, § 122. I shall have occasion to describe some of these, in illu.stralion of other passages. My exegesis of the passage, " He that is washed, needs not," &c. may strike some as 118 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. rather bold in its illustration, yet if great authorities are necessary to support the view I have taken, I can refer at once to a legion uf commentators, both ancient and mo- dern, who all offer the same general explanation, though not exactly the same illus- tration. Poole's Synopsis is rich in references to such. Among these Vatablus re- marks on the need of washing the feet of one already washed, " soil, viae c-ansa." Medonachus says of the feet, " quos calcata terra iterum inquinat." Hammond says, " he that hath been initiated, and entered into Christ, &c. is whole dean, and haih no need to be so washed again, all over. All that is needful to him is the daily minis- tering of the word and grace of Clirist, to cleanse and wash off the frailties, and im- perfections, and lapses of our weak nature, those feet of the soul." Grotius says, " Hoc tantum opus ei est, ut ab iis se purget quae ex occasione nascuntur. Simili- tudo sumpta ab nis qui a balnco nudis pedUnis abeunt." Besides these and many others largely quoted by Poole, Lampe also (in com. in ev. Joh.) goes very fully into the same view, and quotes many others in illustration. Woltius (in Cur. Philol.) gives various illustrations, differing in no important particular, that I can see, from each other, nor from that of Kuinoel, who calls them " contortas exposiliones," but gives one which is the same in almost every part, but is more fully illustrated in detail, by reference to the usage of the ancients, of going to the bath before coming to a feast, which the disciples no doubt had done, and made themselves clean in all parts except their feet, which had become dirtied on the way from the bath. This is the same view which Wolf also quotes approvingly from Eisner. Wetstein is also on this point, as on all others, abundantly rich in illustrations from classic usage, to which he refers in a great number of quotations from Lucian, Herodotus, Plato, Terence, and Plutarch. Sift ymt, as wheat. — The word aivia^u (^siniazo) refers to the process of winnmving the wheat after threshing, rather than sifting in the common application of the term, •which is to the operation of separating the flour from the bran. In oriental agriculture the operation of winnowing is performed without any machinery, by simply taking up the threshed wheat in a large shovel, and shaking it in such a way that the grain may fall out into a place prepared on the ground, while the wind blows away the chaff. The whole operation is well described in the fragments appended to Taylor's editions of Calmet's dictionary, (Hund. i. No. 48, in Vol. III.) and is there illustrated by a plate. The phrase then, was highly expressive of a thorough trial of character, or of utter ruin, by violent and overwhelming misfortune, and as such is often used in the Old Testament. As in Jer. xv. 7, " I will fan them with a fan," &c. Also in li. 2. In Ps. cxxxix. 2, " Thou winnowest my path." &c. ; com. trans. " Thou com- passesl my path." The same figure is effectively used by John the Baptist, in Matt, iii. 12, and Luke iii. 17. Galilean 'pugnacitij.—lose^^m.s, who was very familiar with the Galileans by his military service among them, thus characterizes them. " The Galileans are fighters even from infancy, and are everywhere numerous j nor are they capable of fear." Jew. War, book HI. chap. iii. sec. 2. From Jerusalem to Jericho. — The English traveler here referred to, is Sir Frederic Henniker, who, in the year 1820, met wath this calamity, which he thus describes in his travels, pp. 284—289. " The route is over hills, rocky, barren, and uninteresting; we arrived at a foun- tain, and here my two attendents paused to refresh themselves ; the day was so hot that I was anxious to finish the journey, and hurried forwards. A ruined building situated on the summit of a hill was now within sight, and I urged my horse towards it; the janissary galloped by me, and making signs for me net to precede him, he rode into and roimd the building, and then motioned me to advance. We next came to a hill, through the very apex of which has been cut a passage, the rocks overhang- ing it on either side. (Quaresmius, (lib. vi. c. 2,) quoting Brocardus, 200 years past, mentions that there is a place horrible to the eye, and full of danger, called Abdomin, ■which signifies blood ; where he, descending from Jerusalem to Jericho, fell among thieves.) I was in the act of passing through this ditch, when a bullet whizzed by, close to my head ; I saw no one, and had scarcely time to think, when another was fired some distance in advance. I could yet see no one,— the janissary was beneath the brow of the hill, in his descent; I looked back, but my servant was not yet within sight. I looked up, and within a few inches of my head were three muskets, and three men taking aim at me. Escape or resistence were alike impossible. I got off my horse. Eight men jumped down from the rocks, and commenced a scramble for me; I observed also a party running towards Nicholai. At this moment the janis- sary galloped among us with Lis sword drawn. ****** Peter's discipleship. 119 " A sudden panic seized the janissary; he called on the name of the Prophet, and galloped away. As he passed, I caught at a rope hanging from his saddle. I had hoped to leap upon his horse, but found myself unable ;— my feet were dreadfully lacerated by the honey-combed rocks— nature would support me no longer — I fell, but still clung to the rope. In this manner I was drawn some few yards, till, bleed- ing from my ancle to my shoulder, I resigned myself to my fate. As soon as I stood up, one of my pursuers took aim at me, but the other casually advancing between us, prevented his firing ; he then ran up and with his sword aimed such a blow as would not have required a second ; his companion prevented its full effect, so that it merely cut my ear in halves, and laid open one side of my face ; they then stripped me naked. ********** " It was now past mid-day, and burning hot; I bled profusely, — and tw^o vultures, ■whose business it is to consume corpses, were hovering over me. I should scarcely have had strength to resist, had they chosen to attack me. * * At length we arrived, about 3 P. M., at Jericho. — My servant was unable to lift me from the ground; the janissary was lighting his pipe, and the soldiers were making preparations to pursue the robbers ; not one person would assist a half-dead Christian. After some minutes a few Arabs came up and placed me by the side of the horse-pond, just so that I could not dip my finger into the water. This pool is resorted to by every one in search of water, and that employment falls exclusively upon females ; — they surrounded me, and seemed so earnest in their sorrow, that, notwithstanding their veils, I almost felt pleasure at my wound. One of them in particular held her pitcher to my lips, till she was sent away by the Chous ; — I called her, she returned, and was sent away again; and the third time, she was turned out of the yard. She wore a red veil, (the sign of not being married,) and therefore there was something unpardonable in her attention to any man, especially to a Christian ; she however returned with her mo- ther, and brought me some milk. I believe that Mungo Park, on some dangerous occasion during his travels, received considerable assistance from the compassion- ate sex." THE SCENES OF GETHSEMANE. After much more conversation and prayer with his disciples in the supper-room, and having sung the hymn of praise which usually concluded the passover feast among the Jews, Jesus went out with them west of the city, over the brook Kedron, at the foot of the Olive mount, where there was a garden, called Gethsemane, to which he had often resorted with his disciples, — it being retired as well as pleasant. While they were on the way, a new occasion happened of showing Peter's self-confidence, which Jesus again rebuked with the prediction that it would too soon fail him. He was telling them all, that events would soon happen that would overthrow their present confidence in him, and significantly quoted to them the appropriate passage in Zecha- riah, — " I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered." Peter, glad of a new opportunity to assert his steadfast adherence to his Master, again assured him that, though all should be of- fended or lose their confidence in him, yet would not he ; but though alone, would always maintain his present devotion to him. The third time did Jesus reply, in the circumstantial prediction of his near and certain fall, — " This day, even this night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice." This repeated dis- 120 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. trustful and reproachful denunciation, became, at last, too much for Peter's warm temper ; and in a burst of offended zeal, he de- clared the more vehemently — " If I should die with thee, I will not deny thee in any wise" To this soleimi protestation against the thought of defection, all the other apostles present gave their word of hearty assent. They now reached the garden, and when they had entered it, Jesus spoke to all the disciples present, except his three chosen ones, saying — " Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder." He re- tired accordingly into some recess of the garden, with Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, James and John ; and as soon as he was alone with them, begun to give utterance to feelings of deep dis- tress and depression of spirits. Leaving them, with the express injunction to keep awake and wait for him, he went for a short time still farther, and there, in secret and awful wo, that wrung from his bowed head the dark sweat of an unutterable agony, yet in submission to God, he prayed that the horrible suffering and death to which he had been so sternly devoted, might not light on him. Returning to the three appointed watchers, he found them asleep ! Even as amid the lonely majesty of Mount Hermon, human weakness had borne down the willing spirit in spite of the sublime character of the place and the persons before them ; so here, not the groans of that beloved suffering Lord, for whom they had just expressed such deep regard, could keep their sleepy eyes open, when they were thus exhausted with a long day's agitating incidents, and were rendered still more dull and stupid by the chilliness of the evening air, as well as the lateness of the hour of the night ; for it was near ten o'clock. At this sad instance of the inability of their minds to overcome the frailties of the body, after all their fine protestations of love and zeal, he mildly and mournfully remonstrates with Peter in particular, who had been so far before the rest in expressing a peculiar interest in his Mas- ter. And he said to Peter — " Simon ! sleepest thou 7 What ! could ye not watch with me one hour ? Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Well might he question thus the constancy of the fiery zeal which had so lately inspired Peter to those expressions of violent attachment. What ! could not all that warm devotion, that high pride of purpose, sustain his spirit against the efiects of fa- tigue and cold on his body 1 But they had, we may suppose, crept into some shelter from the cold night air, where they uncon- PETER^S DISCIPLESHIP. 121 sciously forgot themselves. After having half-roused them with this fruitless appeal, he left them, and again passed through anoth- er dreadful struggle between his human and divine nature. The same strong entreaty, — the same mournful submission — were ex- pressed as before, in that moment of solitary agony, till again he burst away from the insupportable strife of soul, and came to see if yet sympathy in his sorrows could keep his sleepy disciples awake. But no ; the gentle rousing he had before given them had hardly broken their slumbers. For a few moments the voice of their Master, in tones deep and mournful with sorrow, might have recalled them to some sense of shame for their heedless stu- pidity ; and for a short time their wounded pride moved them to an effort of self-control. A few mutual expostulations in a sleepy tone, would pass between them, — an effort at conversation per- haps, about the incidents of the day, and the prospect of coming danger which their Master seemed to hint, — some wonderings probably, as to what could thus lead him apart to dark and lonely devotion, — very likely, too, some complaint about the cold, — a shiver, — then a movement to find some warmer attitude, and a wrapping closer in mantles, — then the conversation languishing, repUes coming slower and duller, the attitude meanwhile declining from the perpendicular to the horizontal, till at last the most wake- ful waits in vain for an answer to one of his drowsy remarks, and finds himself speaking to deaf ears, — and finally, overcome with impatience at them and himself, he sinks down into his former deep repose, with a half-murmured reproach to his companions on his lips. In short, as every one knows who has passed through such trials, three sleepy men will hardly keep awake the better for each other's company ; but so far from it, on the contrary, the force of sympathy will increase the difficulty, and the very sound of drowsy voices will serve to lull all the sooner into slumber. In the case of the apostles, too, who were mostly men accustomed to an active life, and who were in the habit of going to bed as soon as it was night, whenever their business allowed them to rest, all their modes of life served to hasten the slumbers of men so little inured to self-control of any kind. On this occasion these causes were sufiicient to enchain their senses, in spite of the repeated ex- hortations of Jesus ; for on his coming to them a second time, and saying in a warning voice — " Rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation ; why sleep ye ?" — they wist not what to answer him, for their eyes were very heavy, and they slept for sorrow. Still again 122 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. he retired about a stone's throw from them, as before, and there, prone on the ground, he renewed the strife with his feehngs. Alone, without the sympathy of friends, did the Redeemer of men endure the agonies of that hour, yet not wholly alone nor unsup- ported ; for, as Luke assures us, there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. At last the long struggle ceased. Distant voices coming over the glen through the stillness of the night, and the glare of torches flashing from the waters of the Kedron through the shades of the garden, gave him notice that those were near who came to drag him to a shameful death. Yet that repugnance of nature with which his late strife had been so dreadful, was now so overcome that he shrank not from the ap- proaching death, but calmly walked to meet it. Coming forward to his sleeping disciples, he said to them — " Sleep on now and take your rest ; behold, the time is at hand when the son of man is be- trayed into the hands of sinners. Arise, let us be going." The rush of the armed bands of the temple guards followed his words, and when the apostles sprung to their feet, their drowsiness was most effectually driven off by the appalling sight of a crowd of fierce men, filling the garden and surrounding them. As soon as the leaders of the throng could overcome the reverence which even the lowest of their followers had for the majestic person of the Savior, they brought them up to the charge ; and a retainer of the high priest, by name Malchus, with the forward ofiiciousness of an insolent menial, laid hold of Jesus. Now was the time for Galilean pugnacity to show itself The disciples around instantly asked, " Lord, shall we smite with the sword ?" But without wait- ing for an answer, Peter, though amazed by this sudden and fright- ful attack, as soon as he saw the body of his adored Master pro- faned by the rude hands of base hirelings, readiest in action as in word, regardless of numbers, leaped on the assailants with drawn sword, and with a movement too quick to be shunned, he gave the foremost a blow, which, if the darkness had not prevented, might have been fatal. As it was, there could not have been a more narrow escape ; for the sword lighting on the head of the priest's zealous servant, just grazed his temple and cut off his ear. But this display of courage was, after all, fruitless ; for he was sur- rounded by a great body of men, armed in the expectation of this very kind of resistence ; and in addition to this, the remonstrance of Jesus must have been sufficient to damp the most fiery valor. He said to his zealous and fierce defender — " Put up thy sword Peter's discipleship. 123 again into its sheath, for they that take the sword shall perish by the sword. The cup which my Father hath given me shall 1 not drink ) Thinkest thou that if I should now pray to my Father, he would not instantly send me twelve legions of angels at a word ? But how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled, which say that it must be thus ?" Having thus stopped the ineffectual and dangerous opposition of his few followers, he quietly gave himself up to his captors, interceding however for his poor, friendless, and unpro- tected disciples. " I am Jesus of Nazareth ; if therefore you seek me, let these go their way." This he said as it were in refer- ence to a literal and corporeal fulfilment of the words which he had used in his last prayer with his disciples, — " Of them whom thou gavest me I lost none." The disciples, after receiving from Jesus such a special command to abstain from resistence, and per- ceiving how utterly desperate was the condition of affairs, without waiting the decision of the question, all forsaking him, fled ; and favored by darlmess and their familiar knowledge of the grounds, they escaped in various directions. Gethsemane. — This place has already been alluded to in the description of Mount Olivet. (Note on p. 111.) From the same source I extract a further brief notice of the present aspect of this most holy ground. " Proceeding along the valley of Kedron, at the foot of Mount Olivet, is the garden of Gethsemane : an even plat of ground, not above fifty-seven yards square, where are shown some old olive-trees, supposed to identify the spot to which our Lord was wont to repair. John xviii. 1, 2." (Mod. Trav. Palestine, p. 156.) It is also remarked by Dr. Richardson, (p. 78 of the same work,) that " the gardens of Gethsemane are still in a sort of a ruined cultivation ; the fences are broken down, and the olive-trees decaying, as if the hand that dressed and fed them was withdrawn." I know of no traveler who has better represented the relative situation of these places than Fisk, the missionary, who seems always to have plainly described things just as he saw them, and has therefore been remarkably successful in giving cor- rect impressions of localities. He thus describes the path which he took in going over the same ground which was traversed by Jesus on that eventful night. — " We went out at Stephen's gate, which is sometimes called the sheep-gate, — [on the east side of the city, towards Olivet.] We then descended the hill, passed the bed of the brook Kedron, which contains no water except in the rainy season, and then came to the garden of Gethsemane, one of the most affecting and interesting spots on earth. It is a small plat of ground, with a low enclosure of stones. In it stand eight venerable- looking olives, which seem as if they might have remained there from time immemo- rial. The side of the hill was full of armed Turks of fierce appearance, occasionally firing off their muskets for amusement." (Bond's Life of Fisk, chap. x. p. 289.) The etymology and meaning of the name Gethsemane are given by Lightfoot, (Cen- tur. Chorog. in Matt. cap. 41.) The name is derived from the product of the tree which was so abundantly raised there, and which gave name also to the mountain. Gethsemane is compounded of nj, {gath,) " a press," and nrnm, {shemena,^ " olive oil," — " an oil-press ;" because the oil was pressed out and manufacturea on the spot where the olive was raised. Ten o'clock. — This I conclude to have been about the time, because (in Matt. xivi. 20) it is said that it was evening already, (that is, about 6 o'clock,) when Jesus sat down to supper with his disciples, and allowing time on the one hand for the events at the supper- table and on the walk, as well as those in the garden, — and, on the other hand, for those which took place before midnight, (cock-crowing,) we must fix the time as I have above. 124 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. The glare of torches.— John (xviii. 3) is the only evangelist who brings this highly picturesque circumstance of the equipment of the band with the means of searching ihe dark shades and bowers of the garden. The armed bands, tf-c. — It has been supposed by some that this armed force was a part of the Roman garrison which was always kept in Castle Antonia, close by the temple; (see note on p. Ill ;) but there is nothing in the expressions of either of the evangelists which should lead us to think so; on the contrary, their statement most distinctly specifies, that those concerned in the arrest were from a totally different quarter. Matthew (xxvi. 47) describes them as " a great throng, with swords and staves, from the chief priests and elders of the people." The whole expression im- plies a sort of half-mob of low fellows, servants and followers of the members of the Sanhedrim, accompanying the ordinary temple-guard, which was a mere band of Levite peace-officers under the priests, whose business it was to keep order in the courts of the temple — a duty hardly more honorable than that of a sweeper or " door- keeper in the house of the Lord," from which oflice, indeed, it was probably not dis- tinct. These watchmen and porters, for they were no better, were allowed by the Roman government of the city and kingdom, a kind of contemptuous favor in bear- ing swords to defend from profane intrusion their holy shrine, which Gentile soldiers could not approach as guards, without violating the sanctity of the place. Such a body as these men and their chance associates, are therefore well and properly de- scribed by Matthew, as a " throng with swords and clubs;" but what intelligent man would ever have thought of characterizing in this way a regular detachment of the stately and well-armed legion, which maintained the dignity and power of the Roman governor of Judea 1 Mark (xiv. 43) uses precisely the same expression as Matthew, to describe them: Luke (xxii. 52) represents Jesus as speaking to "the chief priests and captains uf the temple and the elders, who had come against him, saying — ' Have you come out as against a thief, with swords and clubs'?' " John (xviii. 3) speaks of the band as made up in part of the servants of " the chief priests and Pharisees," &c. So that the whole matter, unquestionably, was managed and executed entirely by the Jews; and the progress of the story shows that they did not call in the aid of the heathen secular power, until the last bloody act required a consummation which the ordinances of Rome forbade to the Jews, and then only did they summon the aid of the governor's military force. Indeed, they were too careful in preserving their few peculiar secular privileges still left, to give up the smallest power of tyrannizing, permitted by their Roman lords, HIS THREE-FOLD DENIAL. Peter, however, had not so soon forgot his zealous attachment to Jesus, as to leave him in such hands, without further know- ledge of his fate ; but as soon as he was satisfied that the pursuit of the disciples was given up, he in company with John, follow- ed the band of officers at safe distance, and ascertained whither they were carrying the captive. After they had seen the train proceed to the palace of the high priest, they went directly to the same place. Here John, being known to the high priest, and having friends in the family, went boldly in, feeling secure by his friendship in that quarter, against any danger in conse- quence of his connexion with Jesus. Being known to the ser- vant girl who kept the door, as a friend of the family, he got in without difficulty, and had also influence enough to get leave to introduce Peter, as a friend of his who had some curiosity to see what was going on. Peter, who had stood without the door wait- ing for the result of John's maneuvre, was now brought into the palace, and walked boldly into the hall where the examination of Peter's discipleship. 125 Jesus was going on, probably hoping to pass unnoticed by keep- ing in the dinily hghted parts of the hall, by which he would be secure, at the same time that he would the better see what was going on near the lights. Standing thus out of the way in the back part of the room, he might have witnessed the whole with- out incurring the notice of anybody. But the servants and others, who had been out over the dark valley of the Kedron feel- ing chilled with the walk, (for the long nights of that season are in Jerusalem frequently in strong contrast with the warmth of mid-day,) made up a good fire of coal in the back part of the hall, where they stood looking on. Peter himself being, too, no doubt thoroughly chilled with his long exposure to the cold night air, very naturally and unreflectingly came forward to the fire, where he sat down and warmed himself among the servants and soldiers. The bright light of the coals shining directly on his anxious face, those who stood by, noticing a stranger taking such interest in the proceedings, began to scrutinize him more narrowly. At last, the servant girl who had let him in at the door, with the inquisitive curiosity so peculiarly strong in her sex, knowing that he had come in "with John as his particular acquaintance, and concluding that he was like him associated with Jesus, boldly said to him — " Thou also art one of this man's disciples." But Peter, (like a true Gali- leein, as ready to lie as to fight,) thinking only of the danger of the recognition, at once denied him, forgetting the lately ofiensive pre- diction in his sudden alarm. He said before them all — " Woman, 1 am not ! — I know him not ; neither do I understand what thou sayest." This bold and downright denial silenced the impertinence of the girl, and for a time may have quieted the suspicions of those around. Peter, however, startled by this sudden attack, all at once perceived the danger into which he had unthinkingly thrust himself; and drawing back from his prominent station before the fire, which had made him so unfortunately conspicuous, he went out into the porch of the building, notwithstanding the cold night air, — preferring the discomfort of the exposure, to the danger of his late position. As he walked there in the open air, he heard the note of the cock, sounding clear through the stillness of mid- night, announcing the beginning of the third watch. The sound had a sad import to him, and must have recalled to his mind some thought of his Master's warning ; but before it could have made much impression, it was instantly banished altogether from his mind, by a new alarm from the inquisitiveness of some of the re- 126 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. tainers of the palace, who, seeing a stranger lurking in a covert manner about the building at that time of night, very naturally- felt suspicious enough of him to examine his appearance narrowly. Among those who came about him, was another of those pert dam- sels who seem to have been so forward about the house of the head of the Jewish liiith. She, after a satisfactory inspection of the suspicious person, very promptly informed those that were there also about him — " This fellow also was with Jesus of Nazareth." Peter's patience being worn out with these spiteful annoyances, he not only flatly contradicted the positive assertion of the girl, but back- ed his words with an oath, which seems to have had the decisive ef- fect of hushing his female accusers entirely, and he considered him- self to have turned off suspicion for a time so effectually, that, after cooling himself sufficiently in the porch, being distracted with anxiety about the probable fate of his beloved Master, he at last ven- tured again into the great hall of the palace, where the examina- tion of Jesus was still going on. Here he remained a deeply in- terested spectator and auditor for about an hour, without being dis- turbed, when some of the bystanders who were not so much inter- ested in the affair before them as to be prevented by it from looking about them, had their attention again drawn to the stranger who had been an object of such suspicion. There were probably more tian one that recognized the active and zealous follower of the Na- zarene, as Peter had been in such constant attendence on him throughout his whole stay in Jerusalem. But no one seems to have cared to provoke an irascible Galilean, by an accusation which he might resent in the characteristic manner of his countrymen ; till another of the servants of the high priest, a relation of Malchus, whose ear Peter had cut off, after looking well at him, and being provoked by the singular boldness of his thrusting himself into the home of the very man whom he had so shockingly muti- lated and nearly murdered, determined to bring the offender to punishment; and speaking to his fellow-servants, he indignantly and confidently affirmed — " This fellow was also with him, for he is a Galilean." And turning to Peter, whom he had seen in Geth- semane, when engaged at the time of the capture of Jesus, he impe- riously asked him — " Did I not see thee in the garden with him?" And others, joining in the charge, said decidedly to him, " Surely thou art one of them also : for thy very speech, thy accent, unques- tionably shows thee to be a Galilean." Peter began at last to see that his situation was growing quite desperate j and finding that Peter's discipleship. 127 his distress about his Lord had brought him within a chance of the same fate, determined to extricate himself by as unscrupulously usinof hii tonofue in his own defense as he had before used his sword for his Master. Besides, he had already told two flat lies within about three hours, and it was not for a Galilean in such a pass to hesitate about one more, even though seconded by a perjury. For he then began to curse and to swear, saying — " Man, I know not what thou sayest. I know not the man of whom ye speak." And immediately, while he was yet speaking, the cock crew the second time. At that moment, the Lord turned and looked upon Peter, and at the same sound the conscience-stricken disciple turning to- wards his Lord, met that glance. And what a look ! He who cannot imagine it for himself, cannot conceive it from the ideal pic- ture of another ; but its effect was sufficiently dramatic to impress the least picturesque imagination. As the Lord turned and looked upon him, Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him — " Before the cock shall crow twice this night, thou shalt deny me thrice." And thinking thereon, he went out, and wept bitterly. Tears of rebuked conceit — of self-humbled pride, over fallen glory and sullied honor — flowed down his manly cheeks. Where was now the fiery spirit once in word so ready to brave death, with all the low malice of base foes, for the sake of Jesus ? Where was that unshaken steadiness, that daunt- less energy that once won for him, from the lips of his Master, when first his searching eye fell on him, the name of the rock, — that name by which again he had been consecrated as the mighty foundation-RocK of the church of God 7 Was this the chief of the apostles ? — the keeper of the keys of the kingdom of heaven ? — binding and loosing on earth what should be bound or loosed in heaven ? Where were the brave, high hopes of eaithly glory to be won under the warlike banners of his kingly Master ? Where was that Master and Lord ? The hands of the rude were now laid on him, in insult and abuse, — his glories broken and faded, — his power vain for his own rescue from sufferings vastly greater than those so often relieved by him in others, — his followers dispirited and scattered, — disowning and casting out as evil the name they had so long adored. The haughty lords of Judaism were now exulting in their cruel victory, re-established in their dignity, and strengthened in their tyranny by this long-wished triumph over their foe. He wept for bright hopes dimmed, — for crushed ambi- tion ; — ^but more than all. for broken faith, — for trampled truth, — 128 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. and for the three-fold and perjured denial of his betrayed and for- saken Lord. Well might he weep — " There's bliss in tears, When he who sheds them inly feels Some lingering slain of early years Effaced by every drop that steals. The fruitless showers of worldly wo Fall dark to earth and never rise ; While tears that from repentance flow, In bright exhalement reach the skies." The long night? in contrast with the heat of the day. — It should be remembered, that according to a just calculation, these events happened in the month of March, when the air of Palestine is uncomfortably cold. Conder, in his valuable topographical compilation, says, " during. the months of May, June, July, and August, the sky is for the most part cloudless ; but during the night, the earth is moistened with a co- pious dew. Sultry days are not unfrequently succeeded by intensely cold nights. To these sudden vicissitudes, references are made in the Old Testament. Gen. xxxi. 40: Ps. cxxi. 6." (Mod. Trav. Palestine, p. 14.) The cold season, (iip Qor,) immediately following the true winter, (sin Hhorcph,) took in the latter part of the Hebrew month Shebeth, the whole of Adar, and the former half of Nisan; that is, in modern divisions of time, — from the beginning of February to the beginning of April, according to the Calendarium Palestinae in the Critica Biblica, Vol. III. : but according to Jahn, (Arch. Bib. § 21,) from the middle of February to the middle of April, the two estimates varying with the different views about the dates of the ancient Hebrew months. Galilean, ready to lie as to fight. — This may strike some, as rather too harsh a sentence to pass upon the general character of a whole people, but I believe I am borne out in this seeming abuse, by the steady testimony of most authorities to which I can readily refer. Josephus, whom I have already quoted in witness of their pug- nacity, (on page 118,) seems to have been so well pleased with this trait, and also with their " industry and activity," which he so highly commends in them, as well as the richness of the natural resources of the country; all which characteristics, both of the people and the region, he made so highly available in their defense during the war with the Romans, that he does not think it worth while to criticise their morals, to which, indeed, the season of a bloody war gives a sort of license, that made such defects less prominent, being apparently rather characteristic of the times than the people. But there is great abundance of condemnatory testimony, which shows that the Galileans bore as bad a character among their neighbors, as my severest remark could imply. Numerous passages in the Gospels and Acts show this so plainly as to convey this general impression against them very decidedly. Kuinoel (on Matt. ii. 23) speaks strongly of their proverbially low moral character. " All the Galileans were so despised by the dwellers of Jerusalem and Judea, that when they wished to characterize a man as a low and outcast wTetch, they called him a Galilean." On other passages, also, (as on John vii. 52, and Matt. iv. 17,) he repeats this intellectual and moral condemnation in similar terms. Beza and Grolius, also, in commenting on these passages, speak of Galilee as " contempta regio." Rosenmixller, also, (on John vii. 52,) says, " NuUus, aiunt, Galilaeus unquam a Deo donatus est spiritu pro- phetjco : gens est Deo despeda." That is, " What they mean is — that no Galilean was ever indued with a spirit of prophecy : they are a people despised bij God" (as refer- red to in John vii. 49.) I might quote at great length from many commentators to the same effect ; but these will serve as a specimen. It should be remarked, however, that the Galileans, though they might be worse than most Jews in their general char- acter, were not very peculiar in their neglect of truth ; for from the time of Abra- ham, Isaac, and Jacob, to the present moment, the Asiatic races, generally, have been infamous for falsehood, and there are many modern travelers who are ready to tes- tify that almost any Oriental, when asked an indifferent question, will tell a lie at a venture, anless he sees some special personal advantage likely to result to him from telling the truth. Yet in minute legal observances, the Galileans were, for the most part, much more rigid in interpreting and following the law of Moses, than the inhabitants of Judea, as is abundantly showTi by Lightfool in his numerous Talmuttic quotations, {Cent. Peter's discipleship. 129 Char. cap. 86,) where the comparison is, on many accounts, highly favorable to such of the Galileans as pretended to observe and follow the Jewish law at all. Thy accent shows'^l.hec. — Li^htfoot is very rich in happy illustrations of this pas- sage, (Cent. Chor. cap. 87.) "He has drawn very largely here from the Talmudic writers, who are quite amusing in the instances which they give of the dialectic dif- ferences between the Galileans and the Judeans. Several of the puns which they give, would not be accounted dull even in modern times, and, indeed, the Galilean brogue seems to have been as M'ell marked, and to have given occasion for nearly as much wit as that of Ireland. The Galileans, thus marked by dialect as well as by- manners, held about the same place in the estimation of the pure Judean race, as the modern Irish do among those of Saxon-English tongue and blood; and we cannot belter conceive of the scorn excited in the refined Jews by the idea of a Galileaa prophet with his simple disciples, than by imagining the sort of impression that would be made, by an Irish prophet attempting the foundation of a new sect in Lon- don or Boston, with a dozen rough and uneducated workmen for his preachers and main supporters. The bright light of the fire shining on his face, <^c. — This incident is taken from Luke xxii. 56, where the expression in the common version is, " a certain maid saw him as he sat by the fire." But in the original Greek this last word is 0&3?, {phos,') which means " light," and not " fire ;" and it is translated here in this peculiar man- ner, because it evidently refers to the light of the fire, from its connexion with the preceding verse, where it is said that " Peter sat down among them ' before' the fire which they had kindled;" the word fire in this passage being in the Greek Trip, ipnr,') which is never translated otherwise. But the unusual translation of the word ^Jiy, by " fire" in the other verse, though it gives a just idea of Peter's position, makes a common reader lose sight of the prominent reason of his detection, which was, that the " light of the fire" shone on his face. In speaking of Peter's fall and its attendant circumstances, Lampe (in ev. John xviii. 17) seems to be most especially scandalized by the means through which Peter's ruin was effected. " Sed ab ancilla Cepham vinci, dedecus ejus auget. Quanta in- constantia! GLui in armatos ordines paulo ante irruperat nimc ad vocem levis mu- lierculae tremit. Si Adamo probrosum, quod a femina conjuge seductus erat, non. minus Petro, quod ab ancilla." That is, " BiU that Cephas should have been over- come by a girl, increases his disgrace. How great the change ! He who, but a little before, had charged an armed host, now trembled at the voice of a silly woman. If it was a shame to Adam, that he had been seduced by his wife, it was no less so to Peter, that he was by a girl." The cock crev\ — By this circumstance, the time of the denial in all its parts is weL ascertained. The first cock-crowing after the first denial marked the hour of mid- night, and the second cock-crowing announced the first dawn of day. As Lampe says — " Altera haec erat oKtKTpixpdvia, praenuncia lucis, non tantum in terra, sed etin. corde Petri, tenebris spississimis obsepto, mox iterum orilurae." " This was the se- cond cock-crowing, the herald of light, soon to rise again, not only on earth, but also in the heart of Peter, now overspread Avith the thickest darkness." And thinking thereon, he wept. — This expression is taken from Mark xiv. 72, and accords with our common translation, though very different from many others that have been proposed. The word thus variously rendered, is in the original Greek, i~i(ia\i>v, (epibalon,) and bears a great variety of definitions which can be determined only by its connexions, in the passages where it occurs. Campbell says, " there are not many words in scripture which have undergone more interpretations than this term ;" and truly the array of totally diverse renderings, each ably supported by many of the most learned Biblical scholars that ever lived, is quite appalling to the inves- tigator. (1.) Those who support the common English translation are Kypke, Wet- stein, Campbell, and Bloomfield, and others quoted by the latter. — (2.) Another tran.s- lation which has been ably defended, is "he began to weep." This is the expre-ssiott in the common German translation, (Martin Luther's,) " f.r hob .\n zu weinen." It is also the version of the Vulgate, (" Coepit flere,") the Syriac, Gothic, Persian, and Armenian translations, as Kuinoel and Heinsius observe, who also maintain this rendering. — (3.) Another is " He proceeded to weep," (" Addens flevit,") which is that of Grotius, Le Clerc, Simon, Petavius, and others. — (4.) Another is, " covering his head, he wept." This seems to have begim with Theophylact, who has been followed by a great number, among whom Salmasius, Wolf, Suicer, and Macknight, and Krebs, are the most prominent. — (5.) Another is " rushing out, he wept." This is maintained by Beza, RosenmuUer^ Schleusner, Bretschneider, and Wahl. — (6.) Aa- 130 LIVES OF THE APCBTLES. Other is " Having looked at, him" (Jesus,) " he wept." This is the version of Ham- mond and Palairet. — " Who shall decide when so many " doctors disagree V I should feel safest in leaving the reader, as Parkhurst does, to " consider and judge" for himself; but in defense of my own rendering, I would simply observe, that the common English version is that which is most in accordance with the rules of gram- mar, and is best supported by classic usage, while the second and third are justly ob- jected to by Bloomlield and Campbell as ungrammatical and unsupported by truly parallel passages, notwithstanding the array of classical quotations by Bp. Blomfield and others; and the fourth and fifth equally deserve rejection for the very tame and cold expression which they make of it; the fourih also being ungrammatical like the second and "third. The sixth definition also may be rejected on grammatical grounds, as well as for lack of authorities and clasr.ic usage to support such an elliptical trans- lation.— For long and numerous discussions of all these points, see any or every one of the writers whose names 1 have cited in this note. Christ's crucifixion. From that moment we hear no more of the humbled apostle, till after the fatal consummation of his Redeemer's sufferings. Yet he must have been a beholder of that awful scene. When the multitude of men and women followed the cross-bearing Re- deemer down the vale of Calvary, mourning with tears and groans, Peter could not have sought to indulge in solitary grief. And since the son of Zebedee stood by the cross during the whole agony of Jesus, (and the other apostles probably had no more cause of fear than John,) Peter also might have stood near, among the crowd, without any danger of being further molested by those whom he had offended ; for they now looked on their triumph as too complete to need any minor acts of vengeance, to consummate it over the fragments of the brolcen Nazarene sefct. Still, it was in silent sorrow and horror that he gazed on this sight of wo ; and the deep despair which now overwhelmed his bright dreams of glory was no longer uttered in the violent expressions to which his loquacious genius prompted him. He now had time and rea- son enough to apprehend tlie painfully literal meaning of the oft- repeated predictions of Christ about these sad events,— predictiohs which were once so wildly unheeded or perversely misconstrued, as best suited the ambitious disciples' hopes of a power, which was to be set up over all the civil, religious, and military tyrants of Palestine, and of which they were to be the chief partakers. These hopes all went out with the last breath of their crucified Lord, and when they turned away from that scene of hopeless wo, after taking a last look of the face that had so long been the source of light and truth to them, now fixed and ghastly in the last struggle of a horrible death, they must have felt that the de- lusive dream of years was now broken, and that they were but forlorn and desperate outcasts in the land which their proud Peter's discipleship. 131 thoughts once aspired to rule. What despairing anguish must have been theirs, as, cHmbing the hill-side with sad and slow steps, they looked back from its top down upon the cross, that might still be seen in the dark valley, though dim with the shades of falling night ! Their Lord, their teacher, their guide, their friend, — hung there between the heaven and the earth, among thieves, the victim of triumphant tyranny ; and they, owing their safety only to the contemptuous forbearance of his murderers, must now, stran- gers in a strange land, seek a home among those who scorned them. The VALE of Calvary. — This expression will no doubt excite vast surprise in the minds of many readers, who have all their lives heard and talked oi Moiint Calvary, without once taking the pains to find out whether there ever was any such place. Such persons will, no doubt, liud their amazement still farther increased, on learn- ing that no Mount Calvary is mentioned in any part of the Bible, nor in any ancient author. The whole account given of this name in the Bible, is in Luke xxiii. 33, where in the common translation it is said that Christ was crucified in " the place called Cal- vary." In the parallel passages in the other gospels, the Hebrew name only is given, Golgotha, which means simply "a skull." (Matt, xxvii. 33 : Mark xv. 22 : John xix. 17.) This particular place does not seem to be named and designated in any part of the Old Testament; but a very clear idea of its general situation can be ob- tained, from the consideration of the fact, that there was a place beyond the walls of Jerusalem, where all the dead were buried, and whither all the unclean carcasses of animals were carried and left to molder. This was that part of the valley of the Kedron which was called the valley of Tophet, or the vale of the son of Hinnom. This is often alluded to as the place of dead bodies. (Jer. vii. 32, &c.) Besides, all reason and analogy utterly forbid the supposition, that dead carcasses would be piled up on a " mount" or hill, to rot and send their effluvia all over the city in every fa- vorable wind ; while on the other hand, a deep valley like that of Hinnom would be a most proper place for carrying such ofiensive matters. Josephus, in his description of the temple, very particularly notices the fact, that all the blood and filth which flowed from the numerous sacrifices, was conveyed by a subterraneous channel or drain to this very valley. A moment's thought will satisfy any one, that a valley is the most proper place for such a receptacle of dead animal matter ; and nobody could ever have thought of removing carcasses from a city to a hill " nigh to the city ;" for thus John (xix. 20) describes "the locality of Golgotha, — making it apparent that, if the spot was an elevation, the carrion on it must have been constantly and most of- fensively conspicuous to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, whose religion, as well as natural decency, required them to avoid all pollution from the dead. The real locality of Golgotha, Calvary, or the place of crucifixion, I should, there- fore be disposed to fix in " the valley of the son of Hinnom," otherwise called " the valley of Tophet;" and probably at that part of it where it opened into the valley of Jehoshaphat; for John says that the garden, in which was the tomb where Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus laid the body of Jesus, " was in the place where he was crucified," and that " the sepulchre was nigh at hand." Now it cannot be supposed that any religious and respectable Jew, like Joseph, would have a new tomb and a garden prepared for himself, with so much pains and expense, in the midst of the filth, bones, and abominations that filled the depths of the valley of Hinnom. The valley of Jehoshaphat was the proper place of tombs, and was used as such both by ancient and modern Jews. But supposing the place of crucifixion to have been in the openingof the valley of Hinnom into that of Jehoshaphat, and supposing also that Joseph's new tomb was in that part of the valley of Jehoshaphat immediately adjacent, both might properly be said to be in the same place, and were probably in sight of each other, though in parts of the great vale nominally diflerent. (See note on page 111.) As to all the bdocless modem inventions of Moivnt Calvary, retailed by the idol- 132 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. atrons Christians of Jerusalem to Ecnropean travelers, and by many of these travelers to their readers, — not one of them deserves the slightest notice in this topographical criticism. It is enough to say, that what is now shown in Jerusalem as Momit Cal- vary, is known to be a pile of masonry, — a mere mass of stone and mortar from top to bottom — and that the notion of the crucifixion having occurred in that part of Je- rusalem is just as modern a fable as that of the hole in which the cross stood, and •was invented at the same lime, for the same purpose, namely, to impose on pilgrims ; — nobody having then the means of settling the true localities. (See Conder, for a full refutation of these fables, in Modern Traveler, vol. I. p. 128.) It should be noticed, that the name " Calvary" does not occur in the original Greek of the Testament at all, but is a mere Latin translation of the Greek word Kpaviov, {Kranio?i) " a skull .-" — Latin, Calvaria, the same meaning. This word was that very properly given by Jerome, in his Latin (or Vuli^ale) translation of the New Testament ; but our English translators, finding that by long use of this as the standard version, the word had so generally acquired the force of a proper name, adopted it as such, instead of translating the original Greek and Hebrew words into the English word " SKULL," as they should have done, if they did not choose to adopt Kranion, or Golgo- tha, as proper names. THE RESURRECTION. With such feelings they returned to Jerusalem, where the eleven, who were all Galileans, found places of abode with those of Christ's followers who were dwellers in the city. Here they passed the Sabbath heavily and sorrowfully, no doubt; and their thoughts must now have reverted to their former business, to which it now became each one of them to return, since he who had called them from their employments could no more send them forth on his errands of love. On the day after the Sabbath, while such thoughts and feelings must still have distressed them, almost as soon as they had risen, some of them received a sudden and surprising call from several of the alarmed women, who hav- ing faithfully ministered to all the necessities of Jesus during his life, had been preparing to do the last sad offices to his dead body. The strange story brought by these was, that having gone early in the morning to the sepulchre, in the vale of crucifixion, with this great object, they had been horror-struck to find the place in which the body had been deposited on Sabbath eve, now empty, notwithstanding the double security of the enormous rock which had closed the mouth of the cave, and the stout guard of Roman soldiers who were posted there by request of the Jews, to pre- vent expected imposition. On hearing this strange story, Peter and John, followed by Mary of Magdala, started at once for the sepulchre. As they made all possible haste, the youth of John enabled him to reach the place before his older companion ; but Peter arrived very soon after him, and, outdoing his <^,ompanion now in prompt and diligent examination, as he had before been outdone in bodily speed, he immediately made a much more tho- rough search of the spot, than John in his hurry and alarm had Peter's discipleship. 133 thought of. He had contented himself with looking down into the sepulchre, and having distinctly seen the linen clothes lying empty and alone, he went not in. But when Simon Peter came following him, he went into the sepulchre and saw the linen clothes lie ; and the napkin that was about his head not lying with the other clothes, but folded up carefully in a place by itself. Having thus made a thorough search, as this shows, into every nook and corner, he satisfied himself perfectly that the body had in some way or other been actually removed, and on his report- ing this to his companion, he also came down into the cave, and made a similar examination with the same result. The only conclusion to which these appearances brought their minds, was that some person, probably with the design of further insult and injury, had thus rifled the tomb, and dragged the naked body from its funeral vestments. For, as yet, they understood not the scrip- ture, nor the words of Christ himself, that he must rise from the dead. The two disciples, therefore, overwhelmed with new dis- tress, went away again to their own temporary home, to consult with the rest of the disciples, leaving Mary behind them, lingering in tears about the tomb. The Sepul.chre in the Vale of Crucifixion. — This is the fair expression of the mean- ing of John, (xix. 41.) " Now in the place where he was crucified there was a gar- den, and IN the garden a sepulchre," &c. The place which Joseph of Arimathea had chosen for a costly sepulchre, was no doubt near that part of the valley of Jehoshaphat, where, at this day, are to be seen the famous " tombs of the kings," among which some have pretended to find those of David and Solomon. These are large apartments cut out of the solid rock, with niches in their sides, in which the dead were to be de- posited. They are remarkable for the structure of the door, which is a single massy slab of stone, made to turn on a corresponding portion of the rock in which the whole is excavated. This seems to agree with the account of the maimer in which the sep- ulchre of Jesus was closed by " a great stone," requiring the strength of a man to roll or turn it back. (Matt, xxvii. 60, xxviii. 2. Mark xv. 46, xvi. 3, 4, &c.) For a fuller account of these " sepulchres of the kings," see Conder's Modern Traveler, Palestine, pp. 121—128.) Some time after their return, but before they had been able to explain these strange appearances, Mary followed them home, ?ind as soon as she found them, added to their amazement im- mensely, by a surprising story of her actually having seen Jesus himself, alive, in bodily form, who had conversed with her, and had distinctly charged her to tell his disciples, and Peter espe- cially, that he would go before them into Galilee, where he would meet them. When she came and told them this, they were mourning and weeping. But when they had heard that he was alive, though the story was confirmed with such a minute detail of attendent circumstances, and though assured by J'er that she 134 LIVES OF THE APuSTLES. had personally seen him, they yet believed not. So dark were their minds about even the possibility of his resurrection, that after- wards, when two of their own number, who had gone about seven miles into the country, to Emmaus, returned in great haste to Je- rusalem, and told the disciples that they too had seen Jesus, and had a long talk with him, they would not believe even this addi- tional proof ; but supposed that they, in their credulous expecta- tion, had suffered themselves to be imposed on by some one re- sembling Jesus in person, who chose to amuse himself by making them believe so palpable a falsehood. Yet some of them, even then, suffering their longing hopes to get the better of their prudent skepticism, were beginning to express their conviction of] the fact, saying — " The Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared unto Si- mon." Of this last-mentioned appearance, no farther particulars are anywhere given, though it is barely mentioned by Paul ; and it is impossible to give any certain account of the circumstances. While assembled at their evening meal, and thus discussing the various strange stories brought to their ears in such quick succession, after they had closed the doors for security against interruption from the Jews, all at once, without any previous notice, Jesus himself ap- peared standing in the midst, and said — "Peace be unto you." They, seeing the mysterious object of their conversation, so strange- ly and suddenly present among them, while they were just dis- cussing the possibility of his existence, were much frightened, and in the alarm of the moment supposed that they were beholding a disembodied spirit. But he soon calmed their terrors, and changed their fear into firm and joyful assurance, that he was indeed the same whom they had so long known ; and to prove that the body now before them was the same which they had two days before seen fastened expiring to the cross, he showed them his hands, his feet, and his side, with the very marks which the nails and spear had made in them. And while yet they could not soberly believe for joy, and stood wondering, he, to show them that his body still performed the functions of life, and required the same support as theirs, asked them for a share of the food on the table ; and taking some from their hands, he ate it before them. He then upbraided them with their unbelief and stupidity in not believing those who had seen him after he was risen from the dead. He recalled to their ixiinds his former repeated warnings of these very events, literally as they had been brought to pass. He said to them — " These are the words which I spake to you while I was yet with you. that all things Peter's discipleship. 135 must be fulfilled which are written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me." Then opened he their understandings, that they might understand the scriptures. Then it was, that at last burst upon them the light so long shut out ; they Imew their own past blindness, and they saw in the clear distinctness of reality, all his repeated predictions of his humiliation, suffering, death, resurrection, and of their cowardice and desertion, brought before them in one glance, and made perfectly consistent with each other, and with the result. So that, amid the rejoicings of new hope born from utter despair, at the same time expired their vain and idle notion of earthly glory and power under his reign. Their Master had passed through all his anguish and disgrace, and come back to them from the grave ; yet, though thus vindicating his boundless power, he did not pretend to use the least portion of it in avenging on his foes all the cruelties which he had suffered from their hands. They could not hope, then, for a better fate, surely, than his ; they were to expect only sirnilar labors, rewarded with similar sufferings and death. Mentioned by Paul. — In his account of the resurrection, in 1 Cor. xv. 5. THE MEETING ON THE LAKE. After this meeting with him, they saw him again repeatedly ; but no incident, relating particularly to the subject of this memoir, occurred on either of these occasions, except at the scene on lake Tiberias, so fully and graphically given by John, in the last chap- ter of his gospel. It seems that at that time, the disciples had, in accordance with the earliest command of Jesus after his resurrec- tion, gone into Galilee to meet him there. The particular spot where this incident look place was probably near Capernaum and Bethsaida, among their old familiar haunts. Peter at this time re- siding at his home in Capernaum, it would seem, very naturally, while waiting for the visit which Christ had promised them, sought to pass the time as pleasantly as possible in his old business, from which he had once been called to draw men into the grasp of the gospel. With him, at this time, were Thomas, or Didymus, and Nathanael, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples, whether of the eleven or not, is not known. On his telling- them that he was going out a fishing, they, allured also by old habits and a desire to amuse themselves in a useful way, declared that they also would go with him. They went forth accordingly, and taking the fishing^boat, pushed off in the evening as usual, — the 136 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. night being altogether the best time for catching the fish, because the lake not then being constantly disturbed by passing vessels^ the fish are less disposed to keep themselves in the depths of the waters, but feeling bolder in the stillness, rise to the surface within reach of the watchful fisherman. But on this occasion, from something peculiar in the state of the air or water, the fish did not come within the range of the net ; and that night they caught nothing. Having given up the fruitless effort, they were towards morning heavily working in towards the shore, and were about a hundred yards from it, when they noticed some person who stood on the land ; but in the gray light of morning his person could not be distinguished. This man called to them in a friendly voice, as soon as they came within hailing distance, crying out in a free and easy way, " Young men ! have you any thing to eat?" To which they answered, " No." The unknown friend then called to them in a confident tone, telling them to cast the net on the right side of the ship, and they should find plenty. They cast accordingly, and on closing and drawing the net, were not able to pull it in, for the weight of the fishes taken in it. In a moment flashed on the ready mind of John, the remembrance of the former similar prodigy wrought at the word of Jesus near the same spot ; and he immediately recognized in the benevolent stranger, his Lord. Turning to Simon, therefore, who had been too busy tugging at the net to think of the meaning of the miracle, he said to him, " It is the Lord." Conviction burst on him with equal certainty as on his companion, and giving way to his natural headlong promptitude in action, he leaped at once into the water, after gird- ing his great-coat around him ; and by partly swimming and partly wading through the shallows, he soon reached the shore, where his loved and long-expected Master was. At the same time, with as little delay as possible, the rest of them, leaving their large vessel, probably on account of the shallows along that part of the coast, came ashore in a Uttle skiff", dragging the full net behind them. In this they showed their considerate prudence ; for had they all in the first transport of impatience followed Peter, and left boat and net together at that critical moment, the net would have loosened and the fishes have escaped, thus making the kind mira- cle of no effect by their carelessness. As soon as they were come to land, they saw Jesus placed composedly by a fire of coals which he had made, and on which he had deigned to cook for their common entertainment, some fish previously caught, dished with Peter's discipleship. 137 some bread. Jesus without ceremony ordered them to come and bring some of the fish they had just caught. Simon Peter, now mindful of his late heedless desertion of his comrades in the midst of their worst labor, stej^ed forward zealously, and dragged the heavy net out of the water ; and though on opening it they found one hundred and fifty-three large fishes in it, notwithstanding the weight, the net was not broken. When they had obeyed his com- mand, and supplied the place of the fish already cooked on the fire, by fresh ones from the net, Jesus in a kind and hearty tone invited them to come and breakfast with him on what he had pre- pared. The disciples, notwithstanding the readiness with which they had come ashore to their Master, still seem to have felt some- what shy ; not, however, because they had any solid doubt as to his really being the person they had supposed him, for no man durst say to him — " who art thou ?" — knowing him to be the Lord. Perhaps it was not yet full daylight, which may account for their shyness and want of readiness in accepting his invitation. But Jesus, in order fully to assure them, comes and takes bread, and puts it into their hands, with a share of fish likewise to each. They now took hold heartily, and without scruple sat down around the fire to breakfast with him. When they had done break- fast, as men who have spent the night in watching are best disposed to converse after eating, he addressed himself to Peter in words of reproof, warning, and commission. He first inquired of him — " Simon, son of Jonah ! lovest thou me more than these?" To this Peter readily replied — " Yea, Lord ! thou knowest that I love thee." Jesus then said to him — " Feed my lambs." Peter had learned some humility by his late fall from truth and courage. Before, he had boldly professed a regard for Christ, altogether surpassing in extent and permanency the affection which the other disciples felt for him, and had, in the fullness of his self-sufficiency, declared that though all the rest should forsake him, yet would he abide by him, and follow him even to prison and to death. But now, that high self-confidence had received a sad fall, and the remembrance of his late disgraceful conduct was too fresh in his mind to allow him any more to assume that tone of presumption. He therefore modestly confined his expression of attachment to the simple and humble reference to the all-knowing heart of his divine Master, to which he solemnly and affectingly appealed as his faithful witness in this assertion of new and entire devotion to him, whom he had once so weakly denied and deserted. No more high-toned boast- 13S LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. ings — no more arrogant assertion of superior pretensions to fidelity and firmness ; but a humble, submissive, beseeching utterance of devoted love, that sought no comparisons to enhance its merit, but in lowly confidence appealed to the sealcher of hearts as the un- deceivable testifier of his honesty and truth. Nor was his deep and renewed affection, thus expressed, disregarded ; but Jesus ac- cepting his purified self-sacrifice, at once in the same words both offered him the consoling pledge of his restoration to grace, and again charged him with the high commission, which, while it proved his Lord's confidence, gave him the means of showing to all mankind the sincerity and permanency of his change of heart. From the words of the Messiah's reply, he learned that the solid proof of his deserved restoration should be seen in his devotion to the work which that Messiah had begun ; that by guiding, guard- ing, and feeding the young and tender of Christ's flock, when left again without their Master, he might set forth his new love. Al ready had Jesus, before that sad trial of their souls, in his parting, warning words to his near and dear ones, told them, " If ye keep my commandments ye shall abide in my love. Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, — if ye have love one to another." And here, in practical comment on that former precept, did he give his restored apostle this test of unchanged love. So harmoniously and beautifully does the sacred record make precept answer and accord with precept. In the minute detail of mere common inci- dent, we may wander and stagger bewildered among insignificant differences and difficulties ; but the rule of action, the guide of life, leads steadily and clearly through every maze, uneftaced by the changes of order, time, and place. "FoMMg mm."— The Greek word here {traiSia, paidia)'has a neuter termination, and is applicable to persons of both sexes, like the English ■word " childrcti," which is here given in the common version. But Jerome's Latin translation (the Vulgate) gives " pue/i" "boys," and he is right! The expression which I have used seems more in accordance with the famliiar diminutive, (jraiSia,) than the one given in the com- mon English version, or the harsher term " Boys." Grcal-coat. — This I consider as giving a better idea of the garment called in the Greek UcvSiTr,v, {ependuten,) which is derived from a verb which means " putting on over another garment," and is of course described with more justice to the original by the English "great-coat" or "over-coat," than by "Jisher's coat," as in the com- mon translation. I suppose it was a rough outer dress, designed as a protection against rain and spray, and which he put on in such a way that he might wade in it without the inconvenience of its hanging about his legs. It must have been a sort of" over-all." that he had pulled off while at work, and put on to wade in the water; for the verb (nii^mxuviii {diazonnvmi) has also that meaning as well as " gird about;" and his object in thus " putting on his over-alls" may have been to keep himself dry, by covering both his legs and i)ody from the water : for it may have come down over the legs like a sort of outside trowsers, and being tied tight, would make a very Peter's discipleship. 139 comfortable protection against cold -water. (See Poole and Kuinoel on this passage, John xxi. 7.) Luther, in his German translation, has very queerly expressed this word, " gijer- TETE ER DAS HEMDE UM sicH," " hc girt Ms $hirt aSout him;" being led into this error, probably, by taking the following sentence in too strong a sense, concluding that he was perfecily Tiaked. But 1 have already alluded (note on page 117) to the peculiar force of this word in the Bible, nor can it mean any thing but thai he was without his outer garments ; and it implies no more indecent exposure than in the case of Christ, when laying aside his garments to wash his disciples' feet. Besides, 1 have shown that the" etymology of firtidurr/s {epcndutes) will not allow any meaning to it, but that of an " cniler garment" vorn over other clothes. De Wette has, in his cor- rect German translation of the Bible, noticed and amended this expression. Instead of " HEMDE," he very properly gives " oberkleid" — " outer-garment," '• over-coat." The Dutch is also accurate — " opperkleed." A little skiff. — The Greek word here is TrXoiafiioi/, (jploiarion,) and means " a small boat," and is the diminution of ttAoTo^, (ploion,) the word used in the third verse of the same chapter, as the name of the larger vessel in which they sailed, and which drew too much water to come close to the shore in this part of the lake, where it was f)robably shallow, so as to make it necessary for them to haul the net ashore with this ittle skiff, which seems to have been a sort of drag-boat to the larger vessel, kept for landing in such places. " Come and breakfast." — This is certainly a vast improvement on the common English version, which here gives the word " dine." For it must strike an ordinary reader as a very early dinner at that time of the morning; (John xix. 4;) and what settles the question is, that the Greek word here is doicTncaTe, {aristesate,) which pri- marily and almost always was applied only to the eating of the earliest meal, or breakfast, being derived "from HpioTov, " breakfast," the first meal in the day, accord- ing to Homer and Xenophon. Are best disposed to converse after eating. This is a remark of the learned and pious Hugo Grotius. (Comm. in Joh. xxi. 15.) " ' Cum prandissent' — Q,uod tempus est colloquendi." (See also Poole, in loc.) Many other unrecorded words of wisdom and love must have been spoken at this time, in the course of which, Jesus again took occasion to put this meaning and moving question, — " Simon, son of Jonah, lovest thou me ?" The first answer of Peter had suffi- ciently shown, that he had no more of that disposition to claim a merit superior to his fellow disciples ; and Jesus did not again urge upon him a comparison with them, but merely renewed the inquiry in a simple, absolute form. Again Peter earnestly ex- pressed his love, with the same appeal to Christ's own knowledge of his heart for the testimony of his loyalty, — " Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee." He saith to him — '• Feed my slieep." If thou lovest me, show that love, by supplying the place of my earthly care, to those whom I love. Love and feed those for whom I have bled and died. — "VYhat could be more simple and clear than this question ? What more earnest and honest than the answer ? "What more abiding than the impression made by this charge ? Yet did not the far-seeing Savior desist from trying his disciple with these questions. Once more was it solemnly re- peated— " Simon, son of Jonah, lovest thou me ?" Peter was grieved that he asked him the third time — " lovest thou me ?" He saw 140 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. at last the reproachful meaning of the inquiry. Three times had this same apostle, by his false-hearted denial, renounced all love and interest in his Master ; and three times did that injured and forgiving Master call upon him to pledge again his forfeited faith and affection. He thus pointed out the past weakness of Peter, and showed the means of maintaining and insuring future fidel- ity. Peter again still more movingly avowed his honest attach- ment, half-remonstrating at this repetition of the question by one who must already know the heart of the answerer too fully for words to inform him anew : — " Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest that I love thee." Jesus said to him — " Feed my sheep." He now passed on to a new prediction of his future fortunes, in the service to which he had in these words devoted him ; making known to him the earthly reward which his services would at last receive. " I soleimily say to thee, when thou wast young, tliou girdedst thyself and walkedst whither thou wouidest ; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouidest not." This he said, to signify to him by what sort of death he should glorify God. That is, he in these words plainly foretold to him that he should, through all his toils and dangers in his Master's service, survive to old age ; and he also alludes to the loss of free agency in his own movements ; but the circumstances are so darkly alluded to, that the particular mode of his death could never be made to appear clearly from the prediction. The particular meaning of the expressions of this prophecy, can of course be best shown in connexion with the circumstances of his death, as far as they are known ; and to that part of his history the expla- nations are deferred. After this solemn prediction, he said to him — " Follow me." This command seems not to have any connexion, as some have sup- posed, with the preceding words of Jesus referring to his future destiny ; but to be a mere direction to follow him on his return from the lake, either back to Capernaum, or to the mountain ap- pointed for his meeting with the great body of his disciples. From what comes after this in the context, indeed, this would seem to be a fair construction ; for it is perfectly plain that as Christ said these words, he turned and walked away ; and that not only Peter followed at the direction of Christ, but also John of his own ac- cord,— and it is perfectly natural to suppose that the greater part of the disciples would choose to walk after Jesus, when they had Peter's discipleship. 141 met under such delightful and unexpected circumstances ; only leaving somebody to take care of the boats and fish. Peter fol- lowing his Lord as he was commanded, turned around to see who was next to him, and seeing John, was instantly seized with a de- sire to loiow the future fortunes of this apostle, who shared with him the highest confidence of his Master, and was even before him in his personal affections. He accordingly asked — " Lord ! what shall become of this man ?" But the answer of Jesus was not at all calculated to satisfy his curiosity, though it seemed, in checking his inquiries, to intimate darkly, that this young apostle would outlive him, and be a witness of the events which had been pre- dicted in connexion with the destruction of Jerusalem, and the second coming of Christ, in judgment on his Jewish foes. This interesting scene here abruptly closes, — the Savior and his follow- ers passing off this spot to the places where he remained with them during the rest of the few days of his appearance after his resurrection. The mountain appointed for his meeting, m,(^trophes,) trans- lated " meat," " food," which is here manifestly used in explanation of this action, can have no reference to any sacramental occasion, and must be applied to " victuals taken for nourishment" alone. The word lurtMfiiSavnv (^metelanibanoii) implies also far more than the common translation would lead the reader to suppose. Its true sense is — " partook," — " shared with one another," and expresses the free and open manner in which they divided their substance. The word " unanxious" more fully ex- presses the sense of the subsequent term, than the common translation, "singleness " which is the literal meaning. (See Kuinoel in loc.) THE CURE OF THE CRIPPLE. In the course of these regular religious observances, about the same time, or soon after the events just recorded, Peter and John went up to the temple to pray, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the usual hour for the second public prayers. As they went in at the outer gate of the temple, which, being made of polished Corinthian brass, was for its splendor called the Beautiful, their attention was called to one of the objects of pity which were so common on those great days of assembly, about the common places of resort. A man, who, by universal testimony, had been a cripple from his birth, was lying in a helpless attitude at this public entrance, in order to excite the compassion of the crowds who were constantly passing into the temple, and were in that place so much under the influence of religious feeling as to be easily moved by pity to exercise so prominent a religious duty as charity to the distressed. This man seeing Peter and John passing in, asked alms of them in his usual way. They both in- 1^ LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. stantly turned their eyes towards him, and looking earnestly on him, Peter said, " Look on us," The cripple, supposing from their manner that they were about to give something to him, accordingly yielded them his interested attention. Peter then said to him, " Silver and gold have I none, but I give thee what I have : in the name of Jesus Christ, the Nazarene, rise up and walk." As he said this, he took hold of the lame man and raised him ; and he at once was able to support himself erect. Leaping up in the con- sciousness of strength, he stood and walked with them into the temple, expressing thankfulness and joy as he went, both by mo- tions and words. The attention of the worshiping assembly in the great courts of the temple was at once directed to this strange circumstance ; for all who had passed in at the gate, recognized this vivacious companion of the two apostles as the man who had all his life been a cripple, without the power of voluntary locomo- tion ; and they were utterly amazed at his present altered condi- tion and actions. As the recovered cripple, leaning on Peter and John, still half doubting his new strength, accompanied them on to the porch of Solomon, the whole multitade ran after them thither, still in the greatest astonishment. All eyes were at once turned to the two wonderful men who had caused this miraculous change ; and the astonishment which this deed had inspired must have been mingled with awe and reverence. Here surely was an occasion to test the honesty and sincerity of these followers of Christ, when they saw the whole people thus unhesitatingly giving to them the divine honor of this miraculous cure. What an opportunity for a calculating ambition to secure power, favor, and renown ! Yet, with all these golden chances placed temptingly within their reach, they, so lately longing for the honors of an earthly dominion, now turned calmly and firmly to the people, utterly disclaiming the honor and glory of the deed, but rendering all the praise to their crucified Lord. Peter, ever ready with eloquent words, immedi- ately addressed the awe-struck throngs, who listened in silence to his inspired language ; and distinctly declared the merit of this action to belong not to him and his companion, but to " that same Jesus, whom they, but a short time before, had rejected and put to death as an impostor." He then went on to charge them boldly with the guilt of this murder ; and summing up the evidences and consequences of their crime, he called on them to repent, and yield to this slain and risen Jesus the honors due to the Messiah. It was his name which, through faith in his name, had made this Peter's apostleship. 161 lame man strong, and restored him to all his bodily energies, in the presence of them all. That name, too, would be equally pow- erfiil to save them through faith, if they would turn to him, — the prophet foretold by Moses, by Samuel, and all the prophets that fol- lowed them, — as the restorer and leader of Israel, and through whom, as was promised to Abraham, all the families of the earth should be blest. But first of all to them, the favored children of Abraham, did God send his prophet-son, to bless them in turning away every one of them from their iniquities. The beautiful gale. — The learned Lightfoot has brought much deep research to bear on this point, as to the position of this gate and the true meaning of its name ; yet he is obliged to annoimce the dubious result in the expressive words, " In bivio hic stamus," (" we here sland at a fork of the road.") The main difficulty consists in the ambiguous character of the word translated " beautiful," in Greek, 'Qpaiav, {ho- raian,) which may have the sense of " splendid, beautiful," or, in better keeping with its root 'iipa, (hora,) " time," it may be made to mean the " gate of time, or the " gate of ages." Now, what favors the latter derivation and translation, is the fact, that there actually was, as appears from the Rabbinical writings, a gate called Hhul- dah, (m^in,) probably derived from iVn (Jiheledh) " age," " time," " life," — from the Ara- bic root ^JLik. {khaladh,) " endure," " last ;" so that it may mean " lasting," " perma- nent," " ETERNAL," which would also be a just translation of the Greek word above given. There were two gates of this name, distinguished by the terms^reater and small- er, both opening into the court of the Gentiles from the great southern porch or colon- nade, called the Royal colonnade. Through these, the common way from Jerusalem and from Zion led into the temple, and througn these would be the natural entrance of the apostles into it. This great royal porch, also, where such vast numbers were pass- ing, and which afforded a convenient shelter from the weather, would be a convenient place for a cripple to post himself in. (Lightfoot, Hor. Heb. et Talm. in loc.) There was, however, a great gate, to which the epithet " beautiful" might with eminent justice be applied. This is thus described by Josephus, (Jew. War, book V. chap. 5. sec. 3.) " Of the gates, nine were overlaid with gold and silver, — * • * but there was one on the outside of the temple, made of Corinthian brass, which far outshone the plated and gilded ones." This is the gate to which the passage is com- monly supposed to refer, and which I have mentioned as the true one in the text, without feeling at all decided on the subject, however ; for I certainly do think the testimony favors the gate Hhuldah, and the primary sense of the word 'Q,paia seems to be best consulted by such a construction. T%e porch of Solomon. — 'Lroa EuXy/jwi/T-oj, {Stoa Solomontos.) This was the name commonly applied to the great eastern colonnade of the temple, which ran along on the top of the vast terrace which made the gigantic rampart of Mount Moriah, rising from the depth of six hundred feet out of the valley of the Kedron. (See note on page 110.) The Greek word aroa, (stoa,) com. trans, "porch," does not necessarily imply an entrance to a building, as is generally true of our modern porch, but was a general name for a " colonnade," which is a much better expression for its mean- ing, and would always convey a correct notion of it ; for its primary and universal idea is that of a row of columns running along the side of a building, and leaving a broad open space between them and the wall, often so wide as to make room for a vast assemblage of people beneath the ceiling of the architrave. That this was the case in this stoa, appears from Josephus's description, given in my note on page 110, sec. 1. The stoa might be so placed as to be perfectly inaccessible from without, and thus lose all claim to the name of porch, with the idea of an entrance-way. This was exactly the situation and construction of Solomon's stoa, which answers much better to our idea of a sallery, than of s. porch. (See Donnegan, sub voc.) It took the name of Solomon from the fact, thai when the great temple of that mag- nificent king was burned and torn dovi-n by the Chaldeans, this eastern terrace, as originally constructed by him, was too vast, and too deeply based, to be easily made the subject of such a destroying visitation, and consequently was by necessity left a lasting monument of the strength and grandeur of the temple which had stood upon m 162 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. it. When the second temple was rebuilt, this vast terrace, of course, became again the great eastern foundation of the sacred pile, but received important additions to itself, being strengthened by higher and broader walls, and new accessions of mound- ed earth ; while over its long trampled and profaned pavement, now beautified and renewed with splendid Mosaic, rose the mighty range of gigantic snow-white mar- ble columns, which gave it the name and character of a stoa or colonnade, and filled the country for a vast distance with the glory of its pure brightness. (See note on page 111. See also Lightfoot, Disquisit. Chor. cap. vi.§2.) Josephus further describes it, explaining the very name which Luke uses. "And this was a colonnade of the outer temple, standing over the verge of a deep valley, on walls four hundred cubits in highth, built of hewn stones perfectly white, — the length of each stone being twenty cubits, and the highth six. It was the work of Solomon, who first built the whole temple." (Jos. Ant. XX. ix. 7.) THE FIRST SEIZURE OF THE APOSTLES. Wliile the apostles were thus occupied in speaking words of wis- dom to the attentive people, they were suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the guards of the temple, who, under the command of their captain, came up to the apostles, and seizing them in the midst of their discourse, dragged them away to prison, where they were shut up, for examination on the next day, before the civil and ecclesiastical court of the Jews. This act of violence was committed by order of the priests who had the care of the temple, more immediately instigated by the Sadducees, who were present with the priests and guards when the arrest was made. The reason why this sect, in general not active in persecuting Jesus and his followers, were now provoked to this act of unusual hos- tility, was, that the apostles were now preaching a doctrine di- rectly opposed to the main principles of Sadducism. The asser- tion that Jesus had actually risen from the dead, so boldly made by the apostles, must, if the people believed it, entirely overthrow their confidence in the Sadducees, who absolutely denied the ex- istence of a spirit, and the possibility of a resurrection of the dead. It was now evening, and the apostles being thus dragged away abruptly, in the midst of their discourse, the people were obliged to disperse for the night, without hearing all that the speakers had intended to say ; yet even the fragment of discourse which they had heard, was not without a mighty effect. So convincing and moving were these few words of Peter, and so satisfactory was the evidence of the miracle, that almost the whole multitude of hear- ers and beholders seems to have come over in a mass to the faith of Christ ; for converts to the astonishing number of five thousand are mentioned by the sacred historian, who all professed their be- lief in Jesus, as the resurrection and the hie, and the healing. The guards of the temple, ini.ii,i' ijoac (piovhv Will not allow US to imagine any interval between the report of Peter and John, and the prayer." Kuinoel's view is precisely the same. Were ill the highest favor with the people. — Very different from the common transla- tion, '-great grace was upon them all." But the Greek word, Xdpu, {Kharis,) like the Latin gratia, (in the Vulgate,) means primarily " favor:" and the only question is, whether it refers to the favor of God or of man. Beza, Whitby, Doddridge, &c. prefer the former, but Kuinoel justly argues from a comparison of the parallel pas- sages, (ii. 47, and iv. 34,) that it refers to their increasing influence on the attention and regard of the people, which was indeed the "great object of all their preaching and miracles. Grotius, RosenmuUer, Bloomfield, and others, also support this view. Deposited in trust. — This is a free, but just version of triQow irapu rovg iruiaq, (^etith- mm para toics podas,) Acts iv. 35, literally and faithfully rendered in the common translation by " laid at the feet ;" but this was an expression very common not only in Hebrew, but in Greek and Latin usage, for the idea of " deposit in trust ;" as is shown by Rosenmiiller's apt quotations from Cicero, " ante pedes praetoris in fore expensum estauri pondo centum," (pro Flac. c. 28,) and from Heliodorus, n-uira ri lavT:,!-, ridium irapa roii irofiai HaaiXiuii. But Kuinoel seems not to think of these, and quotes it as a mere Hebraism. Barnabas, son of exhortation. — -This is the translation of this name, which seems best authorized. A fuller account of it will be given in the life of Barnabas. ANANIAS AND SAPPHIRA. The great praise and universal gratitude which followed Bar- nabas, for this noble and self-denying act of pure generosity, was soon after, the occasion of a most shameful piece of imposition, ending in an awful expression of divine vengeance. Led by the hope of cheaply winning the same praise and honor which Bar- nabas had acquired by his single-minded liberality, a man named Ananias, with the knowledge and aid of his wife Sapphira, having sold a piece of land, brought only a part of the price to the apos- tles, and deposited it in the general charity-fund, alleging at the same time, that this was the whole amount obtained for the land. But Peter, having reason to believe that this was only a part of the price, immediately questioned Ananias sternly on this point, charging him directly with the crime of lying to God. He re- marked to him that the land was certainly his own, and no one could question his right to do just as he pleased with that, or the money obtained for it j since he was under no obligation to give it 168 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. away to the poor of the church. But since he had of his own accord attempted to get a reputation for generosity, by a base and avaricious act of falsehood, he had incurred the wrath of an in- sulted God. No sooner had Ananias heard this awful denuncia- tion, than, struck with the vengeance he had brought on himself, he fell lifeless before them, and was carried out to the burial, by the attendents. His wife soon after coming in, not having heard of what had happened, boldly maintained her husband's assertion^ and repeated the lie most distinctly to Peter. He then declared his knowledge of her guilt, and made known to her the fate of her husband, which she was doomed to share. The words had hardly left his lips, when they were confirmed by her instant death, and she was at once carried out and laid with her husband. The effect of these shocking events, on the minds of the members of the church generally, was very salutary ; exhibiting to them the awful consequences of such deliberate and hardened sin. Attendents. — The common English translation here gives the expression, "young men," which is the primary meaning of the Greek vrnviaxoi, {neaniskoi,) and is quite unobjectionable; but the connexion here seems to justify and require its secondary use in application to "servants," "attendents," &c. This interpretation has the au- thority of the learned Mosheim, who considers the persons here mentioned, to have been regularly appointed officers, who performed the necessary duties about the as- semblies of the disciples, and executed all the commands of the apostles. He says, " unless you suppose these young men to have been of this sort, it is hard to under- stand why they alone instantly rose up and carried out the bodies of Ananias and his wife, and buried them. But if you suppose them to have been men discharging an official duty in the public assembly, you see a reason why, even without orders, they took that sad duty upon themselves. And that there were public servants of this sor: in the first Christian church, no one certainly can doubt, who will imagine for him- self either its circumstances, or the form of the assemblies of that age. For instance, there were the places of meeting to be cleaned, — the seats and tables to be arranged, — the sacred books to be brought and carried away, — the dishes to be set out and cleared ofi", — in short, there were many things to be done which absolutely required particular men." (Mosheim de Reb. Christ, ante Cons. M. p. 114, b.) This passage is quoted by Kuinoel, and is so clear in its representation of the circumstances, as to justify me in translating it entire. THE INCREASING FAME OF THE APOSTLES The apostles, daily supported anew by fresh tokens of divine aid, went on in their labors among the people, encouraged by their increasing attention and favor. So deep was the impression of awe made by the late occurrence, that none of the rest ol the church dared to mingle familiarly with the apostles, who now seemed to be indued with the power of calling down the vengeance of God at will, and appeared to be persons too high and awful for common men to be familiar with. Yet the number of the cliurch members, both men and women, continued to enlarge, and the at- tendence of the people to increase, so that there was no place Peter's apostleship. 169 which would accommodate the vast crowd of hearers and behold- ers, except the great porch of Solomon, already described, where the apostles daily met the church and the people, to teach and strengthen them, and to work such cures as their Master had so often wrought. So high was the reputation of the apostles, and so numerous were those who came to solicit the favor of their healing power, for themselves or friends, that all could not get ac- cess to them, even in the vast court of the temple which they occu- pied, insomuch that they brought the sick into the streets, and laid them on beds and couches, along the path which the apostles were expected to pass, that at least the shadow of Peter, passing by, miffht overshadow some of them. Nor was this wonderful fame and admiration confined to Jerusalem ; for as the news was spread abroad by the pilgrims returning from the pentecost, " there came also a multitude out of the cities round about Jerusalem, bringing sick folks and those who were affected by evil spirits, and they were healed, every one." Mingle familiarly with, them. — Com. trans. " join himself to them," which conveys a totally erroneous idea, since all their eiforts were given to this end, of making as many as possible "join themselves to them." The context (verse 14) shows that their numbers were largely increased by such additions. "Yet no one of the common members (o! Xoimn) dared mingle familiarly (icoXXauOai) with them; but the people held them in great reverence." Acts v. 13. Met the church and people. — This distinction may not seem very obvious in a com- mon reading of the Acts, but in v. 11, it is very clearly drawn. "Great fear was upon the whole church and on all the hearers of these things." And throughout the chapter, a nice discrimination is made between 6 Xuiif, {ho lao9,) " the people," or " the congregation," and h cKK^wia, {he ekklesia,) " the church." See Kuinoel in v. 13, 14. The shadow of Peter. — This is one of a vast number of passages which show the high and perfectly commanding pre-eminence of this apostolic chief. The people evidently considered Peter as concentrating all the divine and miraculous power in his own person, and had no idea at all of obtaining benefit from any thing that the minor apostles could do. In him, alone, they saw the manifestations of divine power and authority ; — he spoke, and preached, and healed, and judged, and doomed, while the rest had nothing to do but assent and aid. Peter, then, ivas the great pastor of the church, and it is every way desirable that over-zealous Protestants would find some better reason for opposing so palpable a fact, than simply that Papists support it. A Protestant, zealous against the assumptions of the church of Rome, yet honest and honorable in that opposition, should scorn and cast off the base and vain support that so many seek in the denial of the divinely-appointed pre-eminence of the noble Peter, — a pre-eminence, to my eye, palpably marked in almost every passage of the gospels and of the Acts where the apostles are mentioned. The spirit which thus perverts the obvious meaning of particular pa.ssages and the general tenor of the whole New Testament, for the sake of carrying a point against the Romanists, is not the original spirit of the great Reformers who fought the first and best battles against papal supremacy ; they knew better, and had better aids. It is a more mo- dern spirit, springing from an ignorance of the true grounds of the great Protestant defense; nor till this offspring of ignorance is displaced by the spirit of truth, will the Protestant controversy go on as the first Reformers so triumphantly began it. And if, of necessity, the Pope's supremacy over all Christian churches follows from Peter's superiority over the other apostles, even such an inference is to be preferred before the sacrifice of a common-sense rule of interpretation. "Non tali auxilio, nee defensoribus istis Tempus eget." — ITO LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. THEIR SECOND SEIZURE AND TRIAL. The triumphant progress of the new sect, however, was not unnoticed by those who had already taken so decided a stand against it. The Sadducees, who had so lately come out against them, were not yet disposed to leave the apostles to enjoy their boldness with impunity. The high priest Annas, who had always been the determined enemy of Christ, belonging to the Sadducean sect, was easily led to employ all his authority with his brethren, against the apostles. He at last, provoked beyond endurance at their steady and unflinching contempt of the repeated solemn in- junction of the Sanhedrim, whose president and agent he was, rose up in all his, anger and power, and, backed by his friends, seized the apostles and put them into the common jail, as inveterate dis- turbers of the peace of the city, and of the religious order of the temple. This commitment was intended to be merely temporary, and was to last only until a convenient time could be found for bringing them to trial, when the crowd of strangers should have retired from the city to their homes, and the excitement attendent on the preaching and miracles of the apostles should have sub- sided, so that the ordinary course of law might go on safely, even against these popular favorites, and they might be brought at last to the same fate as their Master. After the achievment of this project, " a consummation most devoutly to be wished"' by every friend of the established order of things, the sect which was now making such rapid advances would fall powerless and lifeless, when its great heads were thus quietly lopped off. This seems to have been their well-arranged plan, — but it Avas destined to be spoiled in a way unlooked for ; and this first step in it was to be made the means of a new triumph to the persecuted subjects of it. That very night the prison doors were opened by a messenger of Ood, by whom the apostles were brought out of their confinement, and told — " Go, stand and speak in the temple, to the people, all the words of this life." According to this divine command, they went into the temple and taught, early in the morning, probably before their luxurious tyrants had left their lazy pillows. While the apostles were thus coolly following their daily labors of mercy in the temple, the high priest and his train called the council together, and the whole senate of all the children of Israel, and having deliberately arrayed themselves in the forms of law, they ordered the imprisoned heretics to be brought forthwith into the Peter's apostleship. 171 awful presence of this grand council and senate of the Jewish na- tion and faith. The officers, of course, as in duty bound, went to execute the order, but soon returned to report the important defi- ciency of the persons most needed to complete the solemn prepa- rations for the trial. Their report was simply — " The prison truly we found shut with all safety, and the keepers standing without, before the doors ; but when we had opened, we found no man within." Here was a non-plus, indeed ; all proceedings were brought to a stand at once ; and " when the high priest and the chief officer of the temple, and the chief priests heard these things, they doubted of them, whereunto they would grow." But these dignitaries were not long left to perplex themselves about what had become of their prisoners ; for some sycophant, rejoicing in such an opportunity to serve the powers that were, came running to tell them, " Behold ! the men whom ye put in prison are stand- ing in the temple, and teaching the people." This very simple but valuable piece of information relieved the grave judges very happily from their unfortunate quandary; and without further delay, a detachment of officers was sent to bring these unac- countable runaways to account. But as it appeared that the crim- inals were now in the midst of a vast assemblage of their friends, who were too perfectly devoted to them to suifer them to receive any violence, it was agreed to manage the thing as quietly and easily as might be, and to coax them away, if possible, to the tri- bunal. To procure the still and effectual performance of this order, the captain of the temple himself went with the officers, and qui- etly drew the apostles away, with their own consent ; for the min- ions of the law knew perfectly well that the least violence to these righteous men, would insure to those who attempted it, broken heads and bones, from the justly provoked people, whose indigna- tion would soon make the very stones to rise in mutiny for the de- fense of their beloved teachers and benefactors. The apostles themselves, however, showed no unwillingness whatever to appear before their bitter persecutors again ; and presented themselves ac- cordingly, with bold unffinching fronts, before the bar of the San- hedrim. When they were fairly set before the council, the high priest, turning his lately perplexed face into a look of austere dig- nity, asked them, " Did we not particularly charge you, that you should not teach in his name ? And now, indeed, in ^en con- tempt of our authority, you have filled all Jerusalem with your doctrine, and mean to bring this man's blood upon us ?" They, 172 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. the high priest and his supporters, had, at no small pains and trouble, effected the death of Jesus, and had naturally hoped that there would be an end of him ; but here, now, were his disciples constantly using his name to the excitable populace, in their daily teachings, thus keeping alive the memory of these painful inci- dents which it was so desirable to forget, and slowly plotting the means of avenging upon the Sanhedrim the death of their Master. To this sort of address, Peter, and all the other apostles, who now shared the fate of their two distinguished friends, replied, even as had been said on the previous summons, " We ought to obey God rather than men. The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom you slew and hanged on a tree: him now has God uplifted to sit beside his own right hand, to be a Prince and a Savior, to give to Israel a change of heart and views, and remission of sins. And we are his witnesses of these things ; and what is far more, so also is the Holy Spirit, which God has given to those who obey him, as the reward and the sign of their obedience." This bold and solemn speech, breathing nothing but resistence against all hin- drances, and steady persistence in their course, — and denouncing, too, as murderers, the judges, while it exalted their victim to ho- nors the highest in the universe, was not at all calculated to con- ciliate the friendly regard of the Lcarers of it, but roused them to the most violent and deadly hate. Deeply wounded and insulted as they were, they determined to try remonstrance no longer ; but in spite of the danger of popular ferment, to silence these audacious bravers of their authority, in death. While they were on the point of pronouncing this cruel decision, the proceedings were stayed by Gamaliel, a man of vast learning and influence, an emi- nent Pharisee of great popularity, and beyond all the men of that age, in knowledge of the law of Moses and of Hebrew literature. This great man, rising up in the midst of their wrathful resolu- tions, moved to suspend the decision for a few minutes, and to withdraw the prisoners from the bar, until the court could form their opinions by deliberating with more freedom than they could in the presence of the subjects of the trial. As soon as the apostles were out of the court, Gamaliel addressed the council, prompted by a noble humanity, as well as by a deep knowledge of human nature, and acting in accordance also, with the general principles of the Phrarisees, who were very averse to cruelty and bloodshed, and were generally disposed to punish even criminals in the mild- est ways. Possibly, too, he might have been affected by some Peter's apostleship. 173 jealousy of the forwardness of the rival sect. His words were these : — " Men of Israel ! take care what you do to these men. For you know that not long ago rose up Theudas, boasting him- self to be somebody, and gathered a gang about him, to the num- ber of four hundred. But as soon as the attention of our Roman masters was drawn to his outrageous doings, they put him en- tirely down at once, killing him and breaking up his band, by slaughter and banishment ; so that without any trouble or exertion on our part, all this sedition was brought to nought. And when, after him, Judas the Galilean raised a great party about him, in the days of the taxing, this rebellion against the government met with the same inevitable fate, from the resistless soldiery of Rome ; and all this was done without any need of interference from us. And now, with these remarkable instances in view, I warn you to let these men alone, and leave them to determine their fate by their own future conduct. For if, in all their active efforts of seeming benevolence, they have been prompted by any base ambition to head a faction, which may raise them to the supreme power in religious £ind political affairs, and by a revengeful wish to punish those concerned in the death of their Master ; — if, in short, their plan or their work is a mere contrivance of men, it will come to nought of itself, vathout your interference, as did the two misera- ble riots which I have just mentioned. ' But if, inspired by a holier principle of action, they are laboring with pure love of their con- verts ; if all these wonderful cures which you consider mere tricks and impostures, shall prove to be true miracles, wrought by the hand of God, and if their plan be of Him, — you cannot overthrow it ; and do you look to it, sirs, that you do not find yourselves at last fighting against God." This noble and sensible speech, aided by the high rank and great weight of character which belonged to the speaker, instantly hushed all the lately outrageous proposals which had been made against the prisoners. If there were any in the council who did not feel satisfied with his reasoning, they were wise enough to acquiesce, with at least the appearance of content. They knew too well, that Gamaliel, supported by his unbounded popularity with the whole nation, and his eminently exalted character for justice and virtue, was abundantly able to put down every appearance of opposition, and set the apostles free, in spite of high priest and Sadducees. Adopting his resolution, therefore, they called in the apostles, and having vented their paltry malice by beating them, and having exposed themselves to new 174 LI7ES OP THE APOSTLES. contempt by repeating their oft-despised command, that the apos- tles should not speak in the name of Jesus, they let them go, — being fully assured that the first use the apostles would make of their freedom would be to break this idle injunction. For they went out of the judgment-hall, rejoicing that they were honored by suffering this shameful treatment in their Master's name. They now recalled to mind his early words of encouragement, which he had given them in a wise determination to prepare them for evils of which they had then so little notion. The passage from the sermon on the mount was particularly appropriate to their present circumstances. " Blessed are they who are persecuted for right- eousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my name's sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad ; for great is your reward in heaven ; for so persecuted they the prophets who were before you." Comforted by such words as these, they returned to their labors as before ; and daily, in the temple, and moreover in private houses, ceased not to teach and to preach Jesus Christ, in the very face of the express prohibition of their thwarted persecutors. Messenger. — This is a fair and literal interpretation of nyyeXoj, (angelos,") and one justifiable in every place where it occurs in the Bible. Wherever it is applied to a supernatural being sent from God, the connexion will abundantly explain the term, without rendering it by a different word. Thus I have chosen to do, and to leave each reader to judge for himself, from the other attendent circumstances, of the cha- racter of the messenger. See Kuinoel in he. All the words of this life. — I here follow the common translation, though Kuinoel and most interpreters consider this as a hypallage, and transpose it into " all these words of life." But it does not seem necessary to take such a liberty with the expres- sion, since the common version conveys a clear idea. " The words of this Iffe" evi- dently can mean only the words of that life which they had before preached, in ac- cordance with their commission ; that is, of life from the dead, as manifested in the resurrection of Jesus, which was in itself the pledge and promise of life and bliss eternal, to all who should hear and believe these " words." This view is supported by Storr, and a similar one is advanced by Rosenmuller, in preference to any hvpaU lagc. Deeply wounded. — In the Greek, luvpiovro, {dieprionto,') from itaftpico, " to saw through ;" in the passive, of course, " to be sawn through, or figuratively, " deeply wounded in the moral feelings." This is the com. trans, "cut to the heart," which I have adopted, with such a variation of the words as will assimilate it most nearly to common modem forms of expression. But Kuinoel prefers the peculiar force of the middle voice, (where this word can be made, owing to the identity of the imp. tenses of the two voices,) given by Hesychius, " to gnash the teeth," doub'less taken from the similarity of sound between "sawing," and "grating the teeth." This sense being also highly appropriate here to men in a rage, makes the passage per- fectly ambiguous, and accordingly great authorities divide on the point. In such cases, it seems to me perfectly fair to consider the phrase as originally intended for an equivoque. Luke was Grecian enough, doubtless, to know the two meanings of this form, and must have been very careless if he did not think of them as he wrote it down; but either meaning is powerfully expressive of the idea here, and why should he reject or explain it 1 It is rather an advantage and a charm than otherwise, in a Icinguage, to possess this ambiguity, making occasionally a richly expressive play of Peter's apostleship. 175 meanings. It seems, however, more in accordance with Luke's ordinary expressions, to prefer the passii^e sense, as in Acts vii. 54, raTs KapSian (" to their hearts") is added there, of course requiring the passive. For similar forms of expression, see Luko ii. 35: Acts ii. 37.— Consult Bretschneider in loc. In favor of the passive sense, see Bioomficld, RosenmiiUer, Wolf, Hammond, and Gataker. On the middle sense, Kuinoel, Beza, and Welstein. Gamaliel. — A full account of this venerable sage will be given in the beginning of the life of Paul. Ill the temple and in private houses. — Acts v. 42, In the Greek, Kar' o7kov, {kaVoikon,') the same expression as in ii. 46, alluded to in my note on pages 158, 159. Here too, occurs precisely the same connexion with h rw UpCj, (en to hiero,) with the same sense of opposition in place, there alluded to. The indefinite sense, then, rather than the distributive, is proper here as there, showing that they preached and taught not only in their great place of assembly, under the eastern colonnade of the temple, (v. 12,) but also in private houses, that is, at their house, or those of their friends. The expres- sion " from house to house," however, is much less objectionable here, because in this passage it can give only an indefinite idea of place, without any particular idea of rotation ; but in the other passage, in connexion with " the taking of food," it makes an erroneous impression of their mode of life, which the text is me£int to describe. THE APPOINTMENT OF DEACONS. The successful progress of their labors had now gathered around them a great church, numbering among its members a vast throng both of Hebrew and of foreign Jews. The apostles being devoted wholly to their high duties of prayer and preaching, were unable to superintend particularly the daily distribution of the means of support to the needy, out of the charity-fund which had been ga- thered from the generous contributions of the wealthy members of the church. Among the foreign Jews who had joined the frater- nity of the disciples, were many of those who, by education, lan- guage, and manners, though not by race or religion, were Greeks, These, with the proselytes, being fewer than those who adhered to the genuine manners and language of Palestine, had compara- tively little weight in the administration of the affairs of the church, and had no hand in the distribution to the church poor. Being a minority, and being moreover looked on with invidious eyes by the genuine Hebrews, as a sort of half renegades, they were over- looked and put back, in the daily ministration to the needy ; and to such a degree, that even the helpless widows among them were absolutely suffering through this neglect. The natural conse- quence was that murmurs and open complaints arose among them, at this shameful and unbrotherly partiality. As soon as the report of the difficulty reached the ears of the twelve, they immediately called a full church-meeting, and laid the matter before it in these words : — " It is not proper that we should leave the preaching of the word of God, to wait on tables. Wherefore, brethren, look ye out among you seven reputable men, full of a holy spirit and of wisdom, whom we rnay intrust with this business ; while we con- 176 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. tinue to give our time up wholly to prayer and the ministry of the word." This wise plan pleased all parties, and the church pro- ceeded to elect the proper persons for the charge. To soothe the feelings of the Hellenists, the whole seven were chosen from their number, as the names (which are all Greek) fully show. This makes it probable that there were already persons appointed from among the Hebrews, who had administered these charities from the beginning, and whose partial management of these matters had given offense to those whom they slighted. The seven Hel- lenists now chosen to this office, were Stephen, resplendent in spiritual and intellectual endowments ; Philip, also highly distin- guished afterwards by his successful preaching ; Prochorus, Nica- nor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicolas, a proselyte of Antioch ; by which last circumstance, (as well as by the case of Barnabas,) is shown the fact that some Hellenist converts, from a distance, had settled at Jerusalem, and permanently joined the followers of Christ. These seven being formally elected by the church, were brought in before the apostles, for approval and confirmation. And after they had prayed, they laid their hands on them, in token of imparting to them the blessing and the power of that divine influence which had inspired its previous possessors to deeds so energetic and triumphant. The efficiency of this prayer and benediction in calling down divine grace on the heads thus touched by the hands of the apostles, was afterwards most remarkably demon- strated in the case of two of the seven, and in the case of the first of them, almost immediately. Greeks. — The original word here is not "EXXij^e;, {Hellenes,') but 'EXXrjvrtrrai, [Hel- lenistai,) which means not Grecians, but Grecizers ; that is, those who imitated (Gre- cian language or customs. Genuine Hebreios. — By these are meant those who used the Hebrew language still in their synagogues, as the only sacred tongue, and looked with much scorn on the Hellenists, that is, those foreign Jews, who, from birth or residence in other lands, had learned the Greek as their sole language in common life, and were thus obliged to use the Greek translation, in order to understand the scriptures. This matter will have a fuller discussion in another place. Lightfoot has brought a most amazing quantity of learned and valuable illustration of this diflerence, from Talmudic liter- ature. (Hor. Heb. et Talm. in Act. vi. 1.) All Hellenists.— This is the opinion of many eminent commentators, — Beza, Sal- masius, Piscator, Camerarius. (See Poole's Synopsis.) Christ's first martyr. Stephen, after thus being set apart for the service of the church, though faithfully discharging the peculiar duties to which he was called, did not confine his labors to the mere administration of the public charities. The word of God had now so spread, under Peter's apostleship. 177 the ministry of the apostles, that the number of the disciples in Jerusalem was greatly enlarged, and that not merely from the lower and ignorant orders ; but a great number of the priests, who, in their daily service in the temple, had been frequently un- intentional hearers of the word preached in its courts, now pro- fessed themselves the submissive friends of' the new faith. This remarkable increase excited public attention more and more, and required redoubled exertions to meet the increasing call for in- struction. Stephen, therefore, immediately entered boldly and heartily on this good work ; and, inspired by a pure faith, and the confidence of help from above, he wrought among the people such miracles as had hitherto followed only the ministry of the apostles. The bold actions of this new champion did not fail to excite the wrath of the enemies of the cause of Christ ; but as the late decision of the Sanhedrim had been against any further immediate resort to violent measures, his opponents confined them- selves to the forms of verbal debate for a while. As Stephen was one of those Jews who had adopted the Greek language and ha- bits, and probably directed his labors more particularly to that class of persons, he soon became peculiarly obnoxious to those Hellenist Jews who still held out ag-ainst the new doctrine. Of the numerous congregations of foreign Jews that filled Jerusalem, five in particular are mentioned as distinguishing themselves by this opposition, — that of the freedmen, or captive Jews once slaves in Rome, and their descendents, — that of the Cyrenians, — of the Alexandrians, — the Cilicians, and the Asians. Some of the more zealous in all these congregations came out to meet Stephen in debate, with the polished points of Grecian logic, which their ac- quaintance with that language enabled them to use against him. But not all the combined powers of sacred and profane literature availed any thing against their learned and inspired opponent. Prepared beforehand, thoroughly, in all sorts of wisdom, and borne on resistlessly, moreover, by that divine influence whose movements they could see but could not understand, he foiled them completely at all their own weapons, and exposed them, in their low bigotry and stupidity, baffled and silenced by his single voice. But among all the refinements and elegances with which their classical knowledge had made them acquainted, they had failed to attain that noblest point of the rhetorical art, which is — to bear a fair defeat in open debate, gracefully. These low-minded, half-renegade bigots, burning with brutal rage for this defeat, whicfc 178 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. their base behavior made more disgraceful, determined to find a means of punishing him, which no logic or rhetoric could resist. They f^und men bad enough for their vile purposes, and instructed (hem liD testify that they had heard him speak blasphemous words against Moses and against God. On the strength of this heinous charge, they made out to rouse some of the people, as well as the elders and the scribes, to a similar hostile feeling ; and coming upon him with a throng of these, they seized him and dragged him away to the Sanhedrim, to undergo the form of a trial. They then brought forward their perjured witnesses, who testified only in vague terms of abuse : — " This man ceases not to speak blasphe- mous words against this holy place and the law. For we have heard him say that this Jesus, the Nazarene, will destroy this place, and will do away with the customs which Moses delivered to us." This was, after all, a kind of accusation which brought him more particularly under the invidious notice of the Pharisees, whose leader had lately so decidedly befriended the apostles; for that sect guarded with the most jealous care all the minute details of their religion, and were ever ready to punish, as a traitor to the national faith and honor, any one who spoke slightingly, or even doubtingly, of the perpetuity of the law of Moses, and its hallow- ed shrine. Perhaps there was no one of all the sayings of Jesus himself, which had given deeper offense than his remark about de- stroying the temple and rebuilding it in three days, which his silly hearers took up seriously, and construed into a serious, blasphe- mous insult of the chief glory of the Jewish name, and bore it in mind so bitterly, as to throw it back on him, in his last agonies on the cross. Such a saying, therefore, when laid to the charge of Stephen, could not but rouse the worst feehngs against him, in the hearts of all his judges. But he, calm and undisturbed amid the terrors of this trial, as he had been in the fury of the dispute, bore such an aspect of composure, that all who sat in the council were struck with his angelic look. The high priest, however, having heard the accusation, solemnly called on the prisoner to say " whether these things were so." Stephen then, with a de- termination to meet the charge by a complete exhibition of his views of the character and objects of the Jewish faith, ran over the general history of its rise and progress, and of the opinions which its founders and upholders had expressed concerning the importance and the perpetuity of those types and forms, and of the glorious temple which was their chief seat, when compared with Peter's apostleship. 179 the revelation to be expected through the prophet promised to them by God and foretold by Moses. Warming as he went on, he quoted the poetical words of Isaiah, on the dwelling-place of the Almighty, as not being confined to the narrow bounds of the build- ing which was to them an object of such idolatrous reverence as the sole place of Jehovah's abode, but as being high in the heavens, whence his power and love spread their boundless grasp over sea and land, and all nations that dwelt beneath his throne. As the words of the prophet of the fire-touched lips rolled forth in the voice of Stephen, they kindled his soul into an ecstacy of holy wrath ; and in open scorn of their mean cruelty, he broke away from the plan of his discourse, bursting out into burning expressions of re- proach and denunciation, which carried their rage beyond all bounds of reason. Conscious of their physical power to avenge the insult, the mob instantly rose up, and hurried him away from the court, without regard to the forms of law ; and taking him without the city, they stoned him to death, while he invoked on them, not the wrath, but the mercy of their common God. In such prayers, gloriously crowning such labors and sufferings, he fell asleep, commending his spirit to the hands of that Lord and Savior, whom it was his exalted honor to follow, first of all, through the bitter agonies of a bloody death. The freedmen. — This is the proper translation of the word AiPeprTvoi, (^Libertinoi,) — Latin, Liberlini, which the English translation expresses by the word — Libertines, — a very absurd term, and very apt to mislead a cornmon reader. Some (as Drusius and Casaubon) have supposed that it might be the proper name of a nation in north- ern Africa; but the general decision of critics, and the manifest probabilities, are against such a notion. The persons thus named in the Acts were, doubtless, Jews who had been slaves in Rome, and being freed, had returned to Jerusalem ; or they were Gentile freed slaves who had been converted to Judaism, and thus came under the denomination of Liberlini, or freedmen. (See Lightfoot and Poole for illustra- tions of the character of these foreign synagogues.) THE PERSECUTION. Among the nameless herd of Stephen's murderers and dispu- tants, there was one only whose name has been preserved from the impenetrable oblivion which hides their infamy. And that name now is brought to the mind of every Christian reader, with- out one emotion of indignation or contempt, for its connexion with this bloody murder. That man is now known to hundreds of millions, and has been for centuries known to millions of millions, as a bright leader of the hosts of the ransomed, and the faithful martyr who sealed with his blood the witness which this proto- martyr bore boneath the messengers of death to which his voice 180 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. had doomed him. In the synagogue of the Cilicians, which was so active in the attack on Stephen, was a young man, who was not behind the oldest and fiercest, in the steady, unrelenting hate which he bore to this devouring heresy. He gave his voice amid the clamors of the mob, to swell the cry for the death of the he- retic ; and when the stout murderers hurled the deadly missiles on the martyr's naked head, it was he who took charge of the loose garments which they had thrown off, that they might use their limbs with greater freedom. Neither the sight of the saintly mar- tyr, kneeling unresistingly to meet his bloody death, nor the sound of his voice, rising in the broken tones of the death-agony in prayer for his murderers, could move the deep hate of this young zealot, to the least relenting ; but the whole scene only led him to follow this example of merciless persecution, which he here viewed with such deep delight. Abundant opportunities for the exercise of this persecuting spirit soon occurred. In connexion with the charge against Stephen, which, however unfounded, brought him to this illegal death, there was a general and systematic disturb- ance raised by the same persons, against the church in Jerusalem ; more particularly directed, as it would seem, against the Hellenist members, who were involved, by general suspicion, in the same crime for which Stephen, their eminent brother, had suffered. Saul now distinguished himself at once above all others, by the active share which he took in this persecution. Raging against the faithful companions of the martyred Stephen, he, with the most inquisitorial zeal, sought them out, even in their own quiet dwell- ings, and violating the sanctity of home, he dragged out the in- mates to prison, visiting even on helpless women the crime of believing as their consciences prompted, — and without regard to delicacy or decency, shutting them up in the public dungeons. As soon as the storm began to burst on the new converts, those who were in any special danger of attack very properly sought safety in flight from the city, in accordance with the wise and merciful in- junction laid upon the apostles by their Lord, when he first sent them forth as sheep in the midst of wolves, — " When they perse- cute you in one city, flee into another." The consequences of this dispersion, however, were such as to turn the foolish rage of the persecutors to the solid advantage of the cause of Christ, and to show in what a variety of ways God can cause the wrath of man to praise him. For all those who were thus driven out of their peaceful homes, became missionaries of the word of truth, among Peter's apostleship. 181 the people of the various cities and countries through which they were scattered. All those of whose wanderings we have any ac- count, seem to have journeyed northward and north-westward : probably all of them foreign Jews, who naturally returned home when driven out of Jerusalem. Some of these went, in this way. to the Phoenician coast, to Antioch, and to Cyprus, all laboring to extend the knowledge of that truth for which they were willing sufferers. But of all those who went forth on this forced mission, none appear to have been more successful than Philip, who stood next to the martyred Stephen on the list of the seven Hellenist servants of the church, and who appears to have been second not even to his great fellow-servant in ability and energy. His home was in Caesarea, on the sea-coast ; but he had higher objects than merely to take refuge in his own domestic circle ; for instead of thus indulging his feelings of natural affection, he also turned his course northward, and made his first sojourn in the city of Sa- maria, where he immediately began to preach Christ to them, as the common Messiah, so long desired by Samaritans as well as Jews. Here, the people being ruled by no tyrannical sectaries, like the Pharisees and Sadducees, and the various orders of eccle- siastical power in Jerusalem, were left entirely to follow the im- pulse of their better feelings towards the truth, without the fear of any inquisition into their movements. Under these happy cir- cumstances of religious freedom, they all with one accord gave heed to the preaching of Philip, hearing and seeing the wonderful works of kindness which he did. For foul spirits, which possess- ing many sufferers, had long wasted their bodies and deranged their minds, now at the word of this preacher of Christ, came out of many of them, crying with a loud voice in attestation of the irresistible power which had overcome them. Many also that were affected with palsies and that were lame, were healed in the same miraculous manner; so that, in consequence of this removal of so many bodily and spiritual evils, there was great joy in the city, at the arrival of this messenger of mercy. But before the coming of Pliilip, the people of Samaria had been the subjects of arts of a somewhat different kind, from a man who could claim for his works none of the holy character of disinterested humanity, which belonged to those of the preacher of Christ. This was one Simon, a man who, by the use of some magical tricks, had so imposed upon the simple-minded citizens, that they were profoundly impressed with the notion, which he was anxious to make them 182 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. believe, namely, that he was a great man. To him they all, both young and old, paid the deepest reverence, in consequence of the triumphant ability displayed by him in the arts of sorcery ; and so low were their notions of the nature of miraculous agency, that they concluded that the tricks which he played were tokens of divine interposition in his favor, and universally allowed that he was himself a personification of the mighty power of God. But when Philip came among them, and exhibited the genuine work- ings of the holy spirit of God, they immediately saw how much they had been mistaken in their previous estimate of its operations ; and changed their degraded notions, for a more just appreciation of its character. On hearing the word of truth so fully revealed and supported, they believed in the new view which he gave them of the kingdom of God on earth, and in the name of Jesus Christ; and were baptized, both men and women. Even Simon himself, overwhelmed with the evidences of a higher power than any that he knew, confessed the fallacy of his own tricks, and submissively owned the power of God as manifested in the words and deeds of Philip, with whom he now remained, a humble and wondering observer of the miracles and signs wrought by him. THE VISIT TO SAMARIA. In the meantime, the apostles had remained at Jerusalem, ap- parently not directly affected by the persecution against Stephen and his friends, or at least, not disturbed by it so as to be prevent- ed from remaining at their original post, in the discharge of duty. For, a true regard for the instructions long ago given them by their Master, would have required them to leave Jerusalem, if the opposition to their preaching became so settled and extensive as to prevent them from advancing the cause of Christ there, more rapidly than they might in other places. The spirit with which they had been taught to meet tyrannical opposition, was not one of idle bravado or useless pertinacity, but of deliberate and cal- culating steadiness in their plan, which knew when to prudently give way, as well as when to boldly withstand. It is therefore feiir to conclude, that the persecution here referred to, was so lim- ited as not to be directed against the apostles themselves, nor to hinder their useful labors. If any of them had been imprisoned during this persecution, certainly the rest would have been bla- mable for not escaping ; but the fact that they remained perfectly free, appears from their leaving the city without delay, on the Peter's apostleship. 183 occasion which now required their presence and assistance else- where. For as soon as they heard of the preachimg of Philip at Samaria, and of the willingness with which the Samaritans had received and believed the first communications of the word, they immediately sent to them Peter and John, who, as the chief teachers of the doctrines of Christ, might give the new converts a fuller preparation for their duties in their calling, than could be expected from one so lately commissioned as the zealous preacher who had first awakened them. These two great apostles, having come down to Samaria, prayed for the believers there that they might receive the Holy Spirit ; for this heavenly gift had not yet been imparted to them; the only sign of their acceptance into the new faith having been their baptism by the hands of Philip, who does not seem to have been empowered to indue others with the same divine spirit which he had so abundantly received on him- self. But the apostles laying their hands on them, — as they had before done with such powerful effect on Stephen, Philip, and their fellow-servants, — now also inspired these second fruits with the same divir>e energy, which was instantly made manifest in them, by the usual signs. As soon as Simon saw the display of the new, powers, with which those were suddenly gifted who had been made* the subjects of this simple ceremony, he immediately concluded- that he had at last found out the means of acquiring those mira- culous powers at which he had been so deeply amazed, and which he thought he could make vastly profitable to himself in his busi- ness, as a very decided improvement upon his old tricks. Think- ing only of the motive which always moved his mind to the be- stowment of such favors, he immediately took out the money he* had gained by his impositions on the people, and offered the apos-- tles a handsome share of it, if they would simply give him the- valuable privilege of conferring this divine agency on all upon- whom he should lay his hands, in the same manner as they. But his mercenary hopes were soon blasted by the indignant terms in which Peter rejected his insulting proposal, — " Thy money perish' with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of God could be- bought with money. Thou hast neither part nor lot in this mat- ter ; for thy heart is not right in the sight of God. Change thy mind, therefore, from this wickedness of thine, and ask God, if* indeed there is any possibility, that the iniquity of thy heart may* be forgiven thee ; for I see that thou art still full of the bitterness of thy former poisons, and bound fast in the chains of thy old in- 184 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. iquities." Simon, hushed and overawed in his impertinent offers by this stern rebuke, sunk into a penitent tone again, and begged of them that they would pray for him, that the doom to perish with his money, as denounced by Peter, might not fall on him. Of the depth and sincerity of his penitence, no good testimony is left us ; but his submissive conduct, at best, seems to have been rather the result of a personal awe of the apostles, as his supe- riors in supernatural powers, than prompted by any true regard for their pure faith, or any just appreciation of their character and motives. The apostles, however, waited no longer to enlighten the mind of one so dark in his views of the divine agency ; but after they had borne witness to the truth of Philip's words and doctrines by their own preaching, they returned to Jerusalem, pro- claiming the gospel in many villages of the Samaritans, on the way. Philip also, having had his labors thus triumphantly crowned by the ministrations of the apostles, left Samaria, and turned his course southwards, towards Gaza, under the impulse and guidance of a divine spirit. On this journey, occurred his most interesting adventure with the lord high treasurer of the Ethiopian queen, after which Philip was found at Ashdod, on the sea; from which place, journeying northwards again, he went preaching through all the towns on the coast, till he arrived at his home, at Caesarea. THE BEGINNING OP PEACE. Soon after the return of the apostles to Jerusalem, an event oc- curred, which had a more mighty influence on the progress of the Christian religion than any other that had occurred since the as- cension of Jesus. The members of the church who still with- stood the storm of persecution in the city, were struck with no small amazement by the sudden appearance of Saul of Tarsus, the most bloody persecutor of their Hellenist brethren ; who, having exhausted the opportunities for the gratification of his spite against them in Jerusalem, had gone to Damascus, to seize such as there supposed themselves safe in following the new faith. This man, yet stained, as it were, with the blood of Stephen, now presented himself to them as a convert to the gospel, prepared to join them as a brother. The whole affair seemed to bear so decidedly the aspect of a palpable imposition, that they altogether refused to have any thing to do with him, and suspected the whole to be a deep- laid snare, on the part of this bloody foe of the gospel, who now Peter's apostleship. 185 appeared to be seeking, by false professions, to get into their con- fidence, that he might have the means of betraying them to utter ruin. But Barnabas, who was better acquainted with Saul, de- tailed to the church all the wonderful circumstances so fully, that they no longer hesitated to receive him as a brother and fellow- laborer. This remarkable conversion was of vast benefit to the cause of the gospel, not only by bringing to its aid the services of a laborer so competent, but also by removing from among its ad- versaries one who had been a leader and a contriver of every plot of mischief As soon as he left the ranks of the foe, the vindic- tive persecution, which had raged ever since the death of Stephen, ceased, as though it had lost its great author and main support, by the defection of Saul of Tarsus. Indeed, the last act of this per- secution, which is recorded, was directed against this very man, who had once been a leader in it, and drove him out of the city which had been the scene of his cruelties. Therefore, the churches had rest throughout all Judea, and Galilee, and Samaria, strength- ening and advancing in piety, and filled with the impulses of the Holy Spirit. This opportunity of quiet seemed peculiarly fa- vorable for a minute survey of the condition of these scattered churches, most of which had grown up without any direct agency of the apostles, and therefore needed their attention at this critical period. THE SURVEY OP THE CHURCHES. The most proper person for this responsible charge, was the great leader of the apostolic band ; and Peter, therefore, taking the task readily upon himself, went through all the churches, to give them the advantages of the minute personal ministry of a chief apostle, who might organize them, and instruct the disciples in their peculiar duties as members of a new religious community. On this tour of duty, passing down from the interior towards the sea-coast, he came to Lydda, about forty or fifty miles from Jeru- salem, and about twelve from the sea. Here there was a company of the faithful, whom he visited, to instruct them anew, and to enlarge their numbers, by his preaching and miracles. A particu- lar case is recorded as having occurred here, which displayed both the compassion of Peter and his divine power to heal and strengthen. Among the friends of Christ whom he visited here, was an invalid, whose name, Aeneas, shows him to have been a Hellenist. This man had for the long period of eight years been deprived of the 186 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. use of his limbs, by a palsy, which, during that tedious interval, confined him to his bed. Peter, on seeing him, said — "Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals thee. Arise, and make thy bed for thyself" The command to spread and smooth the couch, which he now quitted in health, was given, that he might show and feel, at once, how fully strength was restored to his hands as well as his feet. This miracle soon became known, not only to the citizens of Lydda, but also to the people inhabiting the extensive and fertile plain of Sharon, which stretched to the northward of Lydda, along the coast, from Joppa to Caesarea, bounded on the west by the highlands of Samaria. The effect of this display of power and benevolence, was such, on their minds, that, without exception, they professed their faith in Christ. I/ijdda. — This was a place of far more importance and fame, than would be sup- posed from the brief mention of its name in the apostolic narrative. It is often men- tioned in the writings of the Rabbins, under the name of tiS {Ludh,) its original He- brew name, and was long the seat of a great college of Jewish law and theology, which at this very period of Peter's visit was in its most flourishing state. This ap- pears from the fact that Rabbi Akiba, who raised the school to its greatest eminence, was contemporary with the great Rabban Gamaliel, who bears an important part in the events of the apostolic history. (The Talmudic ai;thority for this is found in Lightfoot.) It is easy to see, then, why so important a seat of Jewish theology should have been thought deserving of the particular notice and protracted stay of Peter, who labored with remarkable earnestness and effect here, inspired by the con- sciousness of the lasting and extensive good, that would result from an impression made on this foimtain of religious knowledge. The members of the college, how- ever, did not all, probably, profess themselves followers of Christ. It is also described as possessing some importance in addition to its literary privi- leges. Josephus (Ant. XX. vi. 3) mentions " Lydda" as "a village not inferior to a city in greatness." Its importance was, no doubt, in a great measure derived from the remarkably rich agricultural district which surrounded it. This was the plain of Sharon, so celebrated in the Hebrew scriptures for its fruitful fields and rich pas- tures,—iis roses and its flocks. (Sol. Song. ii. 1 : Isa. xxxiii. 9, xxxv. 2, Ixv. 10; 1 Chron. xxvii. 29.) " All this country is described by Pococke as very rich soil, throwing up a great quantity of herbage; among which he speci.les chardons, rue, fennel, and the striped thistle, ' probably on this account called the holy thistle.' A great variety of anemonies, he was told, grow in the neighborhood." " I saw like- wise," he adds, " many tulips growing wild in the fields [in March ;] and any one who considers how beautiful those flowers are to the eye. Mould be apt to conjecture that these are the lilies to which Solomon, in all his glorj'^, was not to be compared." — (Mod. Trav. p. 57.) Its distance from Jerusalem is ascertained, by Lightfoot, to be one day's journey, as it is stated with some circumlocution in the Mi.'«hna. It was destroyed, as Josephus relates, by Cestius Gallius, the Roman general, who marched his army through that region, in the beginning of the war which ended in the de- stniction of Jerusalem. Under the peaceful times of the later Roman sway in Pales- tine, it was rebuilt, and called Diospolis. But like many other such instances, it has lost its temporary heathen name, and is now called by its old scripture appellation, I/udd. Travelers describe it as now a poor village, though the stones to be seen in the modern buildings show that it has been a place of great consequence. The New Testament name Li/dda, (AiSi.x,) by which Josephus also mentions it, is only so much changed from the "Hebrew L/iidk, as was necessary to accommodate it to the regular forms and inflexions of the Greek language. Lightfoot well refutes the blunder of many modern geographers who make the two names refer to different places. This learned author is remarkably full in the description of this place, and is very rich in references to the numerous allusionr which are made to it in the Tal Peter's apostleship. 187 mudic writings. (See his Centntria CAorographica, Cap. 16, prefixed to Hor. Heb. el Talm. in Matt.) Aeneas. — This name is unquestionably Greek, which seems to show the man to have been a Hellenist ; and that he was already a believer in Christ, would appear from the fact of Peter's finding him among the brethren there. " Make tky bed for thyself." — These words best express the true force of the original cTpdaov ocavriy, (^stroson seauto,) which is diminished in the common English transla- tion. The English translators overlooked the last word, and have thus neglected to give the full force of the command. Aeneas had before depended on others for this personal otfice ; the gift of strength by Peter now enabled him instantly, in token of the completeness of the miracle, to " make his hed for himself." (Acts ix. 34.) THE VISIT TO JOPPA. Hardly had this instance of divine favor occurred in Lydda, when a new occasion for a similar effort presented itself, in the neighboring seaport town of Joppa. A female disciple of the faith of Christ, in that city, by name Tabitha, or in the Greek, Dorcas, (both names meaning Gazelle,) had distinguished herself and honored her religious profession, by the generous and charita- ble deeds which constantly employed her hands. This lady, so respected by all, and so loved by the poor, who gave witness to her goodness, — such an honor to the religious community which she had joined, — seemed to have so nobly done her part in life, that the order of Providence had apparently called her to rest from these labors, in that sleep from which no piety nor usefulness can save or recall their possessor. After a few days of illness, she died, and was, after the usual funeral ablutions, laid in an upper chamber to await the burial. In the midst of the universal grief for this sad loss, the members of the church at Joppa, knowing that Peter was in Lydda, within a few hours' journey, sent two messengers to him, to beg his presence among them, as some con- solation in their distress. Peter, on hearing of this occasion for his presence, with great readiness accompanied tho messengers back ; and on arriving at Joppa, went straight to the house of mourning. He was immediately led into the chamber, where he found a most affecting testimony to the nature of the loss Avhich the afflicted community had suffered. Around the dead, stood the widows who, in their friendlessness, had been relieved by the sym- pathy of Dorcas, now pouring their tears and uttering their lamen- tations over her, and showing that even the garments which they wore were the work of her industrious hand, — that hand which, once so untiring in these labors of love, was now cold and mo- tionless in death. From that resistless doom, what mortal voice could ever recall even one so amiable and useful ? But, while they were sorrowing thus, Peter ordered them all to leave him alone 188 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. with the dead; and when all witnesses were removed, he kneeled and prayed. The words of that prayer are not recorded ; and it is only by its successful efficiency that we know it to have been that fervent, effectual prayer of a righteous man, which availeth much. It was such a prayer as, of old, the son of Shaphat offered over the dead child of the Shunamite, when alone with him ; and its effect was not less mighty. Rising at length, and turning to- wards the body, he said — " Tabitha, arise !" Awaking from the unbreathing sleep of death, as from a light slumber of an hour, she opened her eyes, and when she saw the majestic man of God, alone, and herself robed for the tomb, she sat up and gazed in amazement. Peter then, giving her his hand, lifted her from the funeral couch, and calling in the brethren and the widows, he pre- sented her to their astonished eyes, alive. Their overwhelming joy and wonder, we are left to imagine. The story, when made known through the city, brought many to acknowledge the truth of that religion whose minister could work such wonders; and many believed in Christ. The field of labor which now opened to Peter in this place, seemed so wide that he did not continue his journey any further at that time, but took up his abode, for several days, in Joppa, lodging in the house of Simon, a tanner, whose house stood by the sea, near the water. Joppa, now called Jaffa. — This was from very early times a place of great im- portance, from the circumstance of its being the nearest seaport to Jerusalem. It is mentioned in reference to this particular of its situation, in 2 Chron. ii. 16, where it is specified (in Hebrew ibi Japku) as the port to which the cedar timber from Leba- non should be floated down in rafts, to be conveyed to Jerusalem for building the tem- ple. It stood within the territories of the tribe of Dan, according to Josh. xix. 46, and lies abctxt W. N. W. from Jerusalem. Strabo, (xvi.) in describing it, refers to it as the scene of the ancient Grecian fable of Andromeda rescued from the sea-monster by Perseus. He describes its site as " quite elevated, — so much so, indeed, that it was a common saying that Jerusalem might be seen from the place ; the inhabitants of which city use it as their seaport in all their maritime intercourse." Josephus mentions that it was added to the dominions of Herod the Great, by Augustus. Its present appearance is thus described by travelers. " It is situated in lat. 32 deg. 2 min. N., and Ion. 34 deg. 53 min. E., and is forty miles W. of Jerusalem. Its situation, as the nearest port to the Holy City, has been the chief cause of its importance. As a station for vessels, according to Dr. Clarke, its harbor is one of the worst in the Mediterranean. Ships generally anchor about a mile from the town, to avoid the shoals and rocks of the place. The badness of the harbor is mentioned, indeed, by Josephus. (Antiq. book xv. chap. 9.") * * * * * * The road is protected by a castle built on a rock, and there are some storehouses and magazines on the sea-side. The coast is low, but little elevated above the level of the sea ; but the town occupies an eminence, in the form of a sugar-loaf, with a citadel on the summit. The bottom of the hill is surrounded with a wall twelve or fourteen feet high, and two or three feet thick. * * * * There are no antiquities in Jaffa : the place would seem to be too old to have any— to have outlived all that once rendered it interesting. The inhabitants are estimated at between four and five thousand souls, of whom the greater part are Turks and Arabs ; the Chri-stians are stated to be about six hundred, consisting of Roman Cath- olics, Greeks, Maronites, and Armenians." [Mod. Trav. Palest, pp. 41, 42.] ^■- Peter's apostleship. 189 Dorcas. — This is the Greek translation of the old Hebrew ^ys, ( Tsebi,) in the Ara- maic dialect of that age, changed into Nir-^n, ( Tabil/ia,) in English, " gazelle," abeau- tiful animal of the antelope kind, often mentioned in descriptions of the deserts of southwestern Asia, in which it roams ; and not unfrequently the subject of poetical allusion. The species to which it is commonly supposed to' belong, is the Anlilopa Dorcas of Prof Pallas, who named it on the supposition that it was identical with this animal, called by the Greeks, A';pv'/ h BalSvXavi awtK^cKrh, is meant " the woman chosen with him in Babylon," that is, Peter's wife; as if he wished to say — " my wife, who is in Babylon, salutes you ;" and Pott concludes that the apostle him- self was somewhere else at the time. For the answer to this notion, I refer the cri- tical to Hug. This same notion had been bel'ore advanced by Mill, Wall, and Heu- mann. and refuted by Lardner. (Supp. xix. 5.) HIS FIRST EPISTLE. Inspired by such associations and remembrances, and by the spirit of simple truth and sincerity, Peter wrote his first epistle, which he directed to his Jewish brethren in several sections of Asia Minor, who had probably been brought under his ministry only in Jerusalem, on their visits there in attendence on the great amiual feasts, to enjoy which, in all years, as in that of the Pentecost on which the Spirit was outpoured, they came up to the Holy city ; for there is no j)rooJ whatever, that Peter ever visited those countries to which he sent this letter. The character of the evidence offered, has been already mentioned. These believers in Christ had, during their annual visits to Jerusalem for many years, been in the habit of seeing there tliis venerable apostolic chief, and of hearing from his lips the gosjpel truth. But the changes of events having made it necessary for him to depart from Jerusalem to the peaceful lands of the east, the annual ' visitors of the Holy city from the west no longer enjoyed the pre- sence and the spoken words of this their greatest teacher. To con- sole them for this loss, and to supply that spiritual instruction which seemed most needftil to them in their immediate circumstances, he now wrote to them this epistle ; the main purport of which seems to be, to inspire them with courage and consolation, imder some weight of general sufferino-, then endured by them or impending over them. Indeed, the whole scope of the epistle bears most mani- festly on this one particular point, — the preparation of its readers, the Christian communities of Asia Minor, for heavy sufferings. It is not, to be sure, without many moral instructions, valuable in a mere general bearing, but all therein given have a peculiar force in refer- ence to the solemn preparation for the endurance of calamities, soon to fall on them. The earnest exhortations which it contains, urging 264 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. them to maintain a pure conscience, to refute the calumnies of time by innocence, — to show respect for the magistracy, — to unite in so much the greater love and fidelity, — with many others, — are all evi- dently intended to provide them with the virtues which would sus- tain them under the fearful doom then threatening them. In the pur- suance of the same great design, the apostle calls their attention with peculiar earnestness to the bright example of Jesus Christ, whose behavior in suffering was now held up to them as a model and guide in their afflictions. With this noble pattern m view, the apostle calls on them to go on in their blameless way, in spite of all that affliction might throw in the path of duty. No proof that he ever visited them. — The learned Hug, truly catholic (but not pa- pistical) in his views of these points, though connected with the Roman church, has honestly taken his stand against the foolish invention, on which so much time has been spent above. He says — " Peter had not seen the Asiatic provinces ; they were situated in the circuit of Paul's department, who had traveled through them, in- structed them, and even at a distance, and in prison, did not lose sight of them. (As witness his epistles to the Galatians, Ephesians, and Colossians, all which are com- prehended within the circle to which Peter wrote.) He was acquainted with their mode of life, foibles, virtues, and imperfections, — their whole condition, and the manner in which they ought to be treated." The learned writer, however, does not seem to have fully appreciated Peter's numerous and continual opportunities for per- sonal communications with these converts at Jerusalem. In the brief allusion made in Acts ii. 9, 10, to the foreign Jews visiting Jervxsalem at the Pentecost, three of the very countries to which Peter writes, " Cappadocia, Pontus, and Asia," are com- memorated with other neighboring regions, " Phrygia and Pamphylia." Hug goes on, however, to trace several striking and interesting coincidences between this epis- tle and those of Paul to the Ephesians, to the Colossians, and to Timothy, all which were directed to this region. (Hug's Introduction to N. T., volume II. § 160, Wait's translation.) He observes that " Peter is so far from denying his acquaintance with the epistles of Paul, that he even in express terms refers his readers to these compo- sitions of his ' beloved brother,' (2 Peter iii. 15,) and recommends them to them." Hug, also, in the succeeding section, (§ 161,) points out some still more remarkable coin- cidences between this and the epistle of James, which, in several passages, are ex- actly uniform. As 1 Pet. i. 6, 7, and James i. 2, 3, 4 : — 1 Pet. i, 24. and James i. 10 : — 1 Pet. V. 5, 6, and James iv. 6 — 10. Asia. — It must be understood that there are three totally distinct applications of this name ; and without a remembrance of the fact, the whole subject will be in an inextri- cable confusion. In modern geography, as is well known, it is applied to all that part of the eastern continent which is bounded west by Europe and Africa, and south by the Indian ocean. It is also applied sometimes under the limitation of " Minor," or " Lesser," to that part of Great Asia, which lies between the Mediterranean and the Black sea. But in this passage it is not used in either of the.se extended senses. It is confined to that very narrow section of the eastern coast of the Aegean sea, which stretches from the Caicus to the Meander, including but a few miles of terri- tory inland, in which were the seven cities to which John wrote in the Apocalypse. The same tract also bore the name of Maeonia. Asia Minor, in the modem sense of the term, is also frequently alluded to in Acts, but no where else in the N. T., unless we adopt Griesbach's reading of Rom. xvi. 5, (Asia instead of Achaia.) In the outset of his address, he greets them as " strangers" in all the various lands throughout which they were " scattered," — bearing every where the stamp of a peculiar people, foreign in manners, prin- ciples, and in conduct, to the indigenous races of the regions in which they had made their home, yet sharing, at the same time, the sorrows and the glories of the doomed nation from which they drew their origin, — a chosen, an " elect" order of people, prepared in the coun- Peter's apostleship. 265 sels of God for a high and holy destiny, by the consecrating influ- ence of a spirit of truth. Pointing them to that hope of an un- changing, undefiled, unfading heritage in the heavens, above the temporary sorrows of the earth, he teaches them to find in that, the consolation needful in their various trials. These trials, in various parts of his work, he speaks of as inevitable and dreadful, — yet ap- pointed by the decrees of God himself as a fieiy test, — begirming its judgments, indeed, in his own household, but ending in a vastly more awful doom on those who had not the support and safety of obedi- ence to his warning word of truth. All these things are said by way of premonition, to put them on their guard against the onset of ap- proaching evil, lest they should think it strange that a dispensation so cruel should visit them ; when, in reality, it was an occasion for joy, that they should thus be made, in suffering, partakers of the glory of Christ, won in like manner. He moreover warns them to keep a constant watch over their conduct, to be prudent and careful, because " the accusing prosecutor" was constantly prowling around them, seeking to attack some one of them with his devouring accu- sations. Him they were to meet, with a solid adherence to the faith, knowing as they did, that the responsibilities of their religious pro- fession were not confined within the narrow circle of their own sec- tional limits, but were shared with their brethren in the faith throughout almost the whole world. From all these particulars the conclusion is inevitable, that there was in the condition of the Christians to whom he wrote, a most re- markable crisis just occurring, — one, too, of no limited or local char- acter ; and that throughout Asia Minor and the whole empire, a try- ing time of universal trouble was immediately beginning with all who owned the faith of Jesus. The widely extended character ot the evil necessarily implies its emanation from the supreme power of the empire, which, bounded by no provincial limits, would sweep through the world in desolating fury on the righteous sufferers ; nor is there any event recorded in the history of those ages, which could thus have affected the Christian communities, except the first Christian persecution, in which Nero, with wanton malice, set the example of cruel, unfounded accusation, that soon spread throughout his whole empire, bringing suffering and death to thou- sands of faithful believers. Accusing prosecutor. — The view -which'Hug takes of the scope of the epistle, throws new light on the true meaning of this passage, and abundantly justifies this new translation, though none of the great N. T. lexicographers support it. The primary, simple senses of the words also, help to justify the usage, as well as their similar force in other passages. A reference to any lexicon will show that elsewhere, these words bear a meaning accordant with this version. The first noun never occurs in the N. T. except in a legal sense. The Greek is 'O avri^iKOi vijmv Sti0o\ns, (1 Pet. v. 8,) in which the last word (diobolos) need not be construed as a substantive expression, but may be made an adjective, belonging to the second word (antidikos.) The last word, under these circumstances, need not necessarily mean " the devil," in any sense ; but referring directly to the simple sense of its primitive, must be made to mean " calum- niating," " slanderous," " accusing," — and in connexion with the technical, legal term 266 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. avriStKOi, (whose primary, etymological sense is uniformly a legal one, " the plain- liif or prosecutor in a suit at law,") can mean only " the calumniating (or accusing) prosecutor." The common writers on the epistle, being utterly ignorant of its gene- ral scope, have failed to apprehend the true force of this expression; but the clear, critical judgment of Rosenmiiller (though he also was without the advantage of a knowledge of its history) led him at once to see the greater justice of the view here given ; and he accordingly adopts it, yet not with the definite, technical application of terms justly belonging to the passage. He refers vaguely to others who have taken this view, but does not give names. Another series of passages in this epistle refers to the remarkable fact, that the Christians were at that time suffering under an accusa- tion that they were " evil-doers," malefactors, criminals, liable to the vengeance of the law ; and that this accusation was so general, that the name, Christian, was already a term denoting a criminal directly liable to this legal vengeance. This certainly was a state of things hitherto totally unparalleled in the history of the followers of Christ. In all the accounts previously given of the nature of the attacks made on them by their enemies, it is made to appear that no accusation whatever was sustained or even brought against them, in reference to moral or legal offences ; but they were always presented in the light of mere religious dissenters and sectaries. At Corinth, the inde- pendent and equitable Gallio dismissed them from the judgment- seat, with the upright decision, that they were chargeable with no crime whatever. Felix and Festus, with king Agrippa II., also, alike esteemed the whole procedure against Paul as a mere theologi- cal or religious affair, relating to doctrines, and not to moral actions. At Ephesus, even one of the high officers of the city did not liesi- tate to declare, in the face of a mob raging against Paul and his companions, that they were innocent of all crime. And even as late as the seventh year of Nero, the name of Christian had so little of an odious or criminal character, that Agrippa II. did not disdain, before a great and solemn assemblage of Romans and Jews, to declare himself almost persuaded to adopt both the name and character. And the whole course of their history abundantly shows, that so far from the idea of attacking the Christian brotherhood in a mass, as guilty of legal offenses, and making their very name nearly synonymous with crimi- nal, no trace whatever of such an attack appears, until three years after the last mentioned date, when Nero charged the Christians, as a sect, with his own atrocious crime, the dreadful devastation by fire of his own capital ; and on this ground, every where instituted a cruel persecution against them. In connexion with this procedure, the Christians are first mentioned in Roman history, as a new and pecu- liar class of people, called Cfwlstiani, from their founder, Christus ; and in reference to this matter, abusive charges are brought against them. Evil doers. — These passages are in ii. 12, iii. 16, iv. 15, where the word in Greek is KnKOTToio't, (Jcakopoioi,') which means a malefactor, as is shown in Jc>hn xviii. 30, where the whole point of the remark consists in the fact, that the person spoken of was considered an actual violator of known law ; so that the word is evidently limited throughout, to those who were criminals in the eye of the law. Peter's apostleship. 267 TAc iiame Christian denoting a criminal. — This is manifest from iv. 16, where they are exhorted to sufler for this alone, and to give no occasion whatever for any other criminal accusation. A third cliaractcristic of the circumstances of those to whom this epistle is addressed, is that they were obliged to be constantly on their guard against accusations, which would expose them to capital pmiishment. They were objects of scorn and obloquy, and were to expect to be dragged to trial as thieves, murderers, and as wretches conspiring secretly against the public peace and safety ; and to all this they were liable in their character as Christians. The apostle, therefore, in deep solicitude for the dreadful condition and liabilities of his friends, warns those who, in spite of innocence, are thus made to suifer, to consider all their afflictions as in accordance with the wise will of God, and, in an upright course of conduct, to commit the keeping of their souls to him, as a faithful guardian, who would not allow the permanent injury of the souls which he had created. Now, not even a conjecture can be made, much less, any historical proof be brought, that beyond Palestine any person had ever yet been made to suffer death on the score of religion ; or of any stigma attach- ing to that sect, before the time when Nero involved them in the cruel charge just mentioned. The date of the first instances of such persecutions was the eleventh year of the reign of Nero, under the consulships of Caius Lecanius Bassus, and Marcus Licinius Crassus, according to the Roman annals. The commencement of the burning of Rome, which was the occasion of this first attack on the Christians, was in the last part of the month of July ; but the persecution did not begin immediately. After various contrivances to avert the in- dignation of the people from their imperial destroyer, the Christians were seized as a proper expiatory sacrifice, the choice being favored by the general dislike with which they were regarded. This attack being deferred for some time after the burning, could not have oc- curred till late in that year. The epistle cannot have been written before its occurrence, nor indeed until some time afterwards ; because a few months must be allowed for the account of it to spread to the provinces of Asia, and it must have been still later when the news of the difficulty could reach the apostle, so as to enable him to ap- preciate the danger of those Christians who were under the dominion of the Romans. It is evident, then, that the epistle was not written in the same year in which the burning occurred ; but in the subse- quent one, the twelfth of Nero's reign, and the sixty-fifth of the Christian era. By that time the condition and prospects of the Christians throughout the empire, were such as to excite the deepest solicitude in the great apostle, who, though himself residing in the great Parthian empire, removed from all danger of injury from the Roman emperor, was by no means disposed to forget the high claims the sufferers had on him for counsel and consolation. This dreadfiil event was the most important which had ever yet befallen the Chris- 268 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. tians, and there would certainly be just occasion for surprise, if it had called forth no consolatory testimony from the founders of the faith, and if no trace of it could be found in the apostolic records. Committing the keeping of their souls to God. — This view of the design of the epistle gives new force to this passage, (iv. 19.) Mrst mentioned in Roman history- — This is by Tacitus, (Annal. xv. 44.) After speaking in previous passages of the various means used by JNero to repair the mis- cnief done by that awful conflagration of the city, and to turn off from himself the suspicion of having caused it, he says — " Sed rion ope humanA, non largitionibus Principis, aut Deiim placamentis, decedebat infamia, quin jussum incendium crede- retur. Ergo abolendo rumori subdidit reos, et quaesitissimis poenis affecit, quos per flagitia invisos, vulgos Christianos appellabat," &c. — " But not by human effort, not by the lavish bounty of a monarch, or by the propitiations of the gods, could the impression be removed, that he had caused the contlagralion. To get rid of this general impression, therefore, he brought under this accusation, and visited with the most exquisite punishments, a set of persons, hateful for their crimes, commonly called Christians. The name was derived from Christus, who, in the reign of Ti- berius, was seized and punished by Pontius Pilate, the procurator. The ruinous superstition, though checked for a while, broke out again, not only in Judea, the source of the evil, but also in the city, (Rome.) Therefore those who professed it were first seized, and then, on their confession, a great number of others were con- victed, not so much on the charge of the arson, as on account of the universal hatred which existed against them. And their deaths were made amusing exhibitions, as, being covered with the skins of wild beasts, they were torn to pieces by dogs, or were nailed to crosses, or, being daubed with combustible stuff, were burned by way of light, in the darkness, after the close of day. Nero opened his own gardens for the show, and mingled with the lowest part of the throng, on the occasion." (The de- scription of the cruel manner in which they were burned, may serve as a forcible illustration of the meaning of " the fiery trial," to which Peter alludes, iv. 12.) By Suetonius, also, they are briefly mentioned. (Nero. cap. 15.') " Afflicti suppliciis Christiani, genus hominum superstitionis novae et maleficae. — " The Christians, a sort of men of a new and pernicious {evil doing) superstition, were visited with punishments." That this Neronian persecution was as extensive as is here made to appear, is proved byLardner and Hug. The former, in particular, gives several very interest- ing evidences, in his " Heathen Testimonies," especially the remarkable inscription referring to this persecution, found in Portugal. (Test, of Anc. Heath, chap, iii.) This last, however, being evidence of disputed authenticity and antiquity, certainly cannot be considered as very satisfactory on a doubtful point. From the uniform tone in which the apostle alludes to the danger as threatening- only his readers, without the slightest allusion to the circumstance of his being involved in the difficulty, is drawn another important confirmation of the locality of the epistle. He uniformly uses the second person, when referring to trials, but if he himself had then been so situated as to share in the calamity for wliich he strove to prepare them, he would have been very apt to have ex- pressed his own feelings in view of the common evil. Paul, in those epistles which were written under circumstances of personal distress, is very full of warm expressions of the state of mind in which he met his trials ; nor was there in Peter any lack of the fervid energy that would burst forth in similarly eloquent sympathy, on the like occasions. But from Babylon, beyond the bounds of Roman sway, he looked on their sufferings only with that pure sympathy which his regard for his brethren would excite ; and it is not to be wonder- ed, then, that he uses the second person merely, in speaking of their Peter's apostleship. 269 distresses. The bearer of this epistle to the distressed Christians of Asia Minor, is named Silvanus, generally supposed to be the same with Silvanus or Silas, mentioned in Paul's epistle, and in the Acts, as the companion of Paul in liis journeys through some of those provinces to which Peter now wrote. There is great probability in this conjecture, nor is there any tiling that contradicts it in the slightest degree ; and it may therefore be considered as true. Some other great object may at this time have required his presence among them, or he may have been then passing on his journey to rejoin Paul, thus executing this commission incidentally. This view of the scope and contents of this epistle is taken from'Hng, who seems to have originated it. At least I can find nothing of it m any other author whom I have consulted. Michaelis, for instance, though evidently apprehending the general tendency of the epistle, and its design to prepare its readers for the coining of some dreadful calamity, was not led thereby to the just apprehension of the historical cir- cumstances theremth connected. (Hug, II. §§ 162 — 165. Wait's translation. — Mi- chaelis, Vol. IV. chap, xxvii. §§ 1 — 7.) The time when this epistle was written is very variously fixed by the different writers to whom I have above referred. Lardner, dating it at Rome, concludes that the time was between A. D. 63 and 65, because he thinks that Peter could not have arrived at Rome earlier. This inference depends entirely on what he does not prove, — the assertion that by Babylon, in the date, is meant Rome. The proofs of its being another place, which I have given above, will therefore require that it should have been written before that time, if Peter did then go to Rome. And Michaelis seems to ground upon this notion his belief, that it " was written either not long be- fore, or not long after, the year 60." But the nobly impartial Hug comes to our aid again, with the sentence, which, though bearing against a fiction most desirable for his church, he unhesitatingly passes on its date. From his admirable detail of the contents and design of the epistle, he makes it evident that it was written (from Baby- lon) some years after the time when Peter is commonly said to have gone to Rome, never to return. This is the opinion which I have necessarily adopted, after taking his view of the design of the epistle ; and I have therefore dated it in A. D. 65, the twelfth of Nero's reign. THE SECOND EPISTLE. After \vriting the former epistle to the Christians of Asia Minor, Peter probably continued to reside in Babylon, since no occurrence is mentioned M^hich could draw him away, in his old age, from the retired but important field of labor to which he had previously con- fined himself Still exercising a paternal watchfulness, however, over his distant disciples, his solicitude before long again excited him to address them in reference to their spiritual difficulties and neces- sities. The apprehensions expressed in the former epistle, respecting their maintenance of a pure faith in their complicated trials, had in the mean time proved well-grounded. During the distracting ca- lamities of Nero's persecution, false teachers had arisen, who had, by degrees, brought in pernicious heresies among them, affecting the very foundations of the faith, and ending in the most ruinous conse- quences to the belief and practice of some. This second epistle he wrote, therefore, to stir up those who were still pure in heart, to the remembrance of the true doctrines of Christianity, as taught by the apostles ; and to warn them against the heretical notions that had so fatally spread among them. Of the errors complained of, the most 270 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. important seems to have been the denial of the judgment, which had been prophesied so long. Solemnly re-assuring them of the certainty of that awful series of events, he exhorted them to the steady main- tenance of such a holy conduct and godly life, as would fit them to meet the great change which he so sublimely pictured, whenever and however it should occur ; and closed with a most solemn charge to beware lest they also should be led away by the error of the wiciced, so as to fall from their former steadfast adherence to the truth. In the former part of the epistle he alluded affectingly to the nearness of his own end, as an especial reason for his urgency with those from whom he was so soon to be parted. " I think it meet as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up to the remembrance of these things, knowing as I do that the putting off of my tabernacle is very near, according to what our Lord Jesus Christ made known to mc." This is an allusion to the prophecy of his Master at the meeting on the lake, after the resurrection, described in the last chapter of John's gospel. " Therefore," writes the aged apostle, " I will be urgent that you, after my departure, may always hold these things in your memory." All which seems to imply an anticipated death, of which he was reminded by the course of natural decay, and by the remembrance of the parting prophecy of his Master, and not by any thing very imminently dangerous or threatening in his exter- nal circumstances, at the time of writing. This was the last im- portant work of his adventurous and devoted life ; and his allusions to the solemn scenes of fliture judgment were therefore most solemnly appropriate. Those to whom he wrote could expect to see his face no more, and his whole epistle is in a strain accordant with these circumstances, dwelling particularly on the awflil realities of a coming day of doom. The first epistle of Peter has always been received as authentic, ever since the apostolic writings were first collected, nor has there ever been a single doubt expressed by any theologian, that it was what it pretended to be ; but in regard to the epistle just mentioned as his second, emd now commonly so received, there has been as much earnest discussion, as concerning any other book in the sacred canon, excepting, perhaps, the epistle to the Hebrews, and John's Revelation. The weight of historical testimony is certainly rather against its authenticity, since all the early Fathers who explicitly mention it, speak of it as a work of very doubtful character. In the first list of the sacred writmgs that is recorded, this is not put among those generally acknowledged as of divine authority, but among those whose truth was disputed. Still, quotations from it are found in the writings of the Fathers, in the first, second, and third centu- ries, by whom it is mentioned approvingly, although not specified as inspired or of divine authority. But even as late as the end ot the fourth century, there were still many who denied it to be Peter's, on account of supposed differences of style observable between this Peter's apostleship. 271 and the former epistle, which was acknowledged to be his. The Syrian Christians continued to reject it from their canon for some time after ; for in the old Syriac version, which is believed to have been executed in the first century, this alone, of all books then writ- ten and promulgated, (at any rate, those generally known and circu- lated,) that are now considered a part of the New Testament, is not contained, though it was regarded by many among them as a good book, and is quoted in the writings of one of the Syrian Fathers, with respect. After this period, however, these objections were soon forgotten, and from the fifth century downwards, it has been univer- salty adopted into the authentic canon, and regarded with that reverence which its internal evidences of truth and genuineness so amply justify. Indeed, it is on its internal evidence, almost entirely, that its great defense must be founded, — since the historical testi- monies (by common confession of theologians) will not afford that satisfaction to the investigator, which is desirable on subjects of this nature ; and though ancient usage and its long-established possession of a place in the inspired code may be called up in its support, still there will be occasion for the aid of internal reasons, to maintain a positive decision as to its authenticity. And this sort of evidence, an examination by the rigid standards of modern critical theology proves abundantly suflicient for the effort to which it is summoned ; for though it has been said, that since the ancients themselves were in doubt, the moderns cannot expect to arri^^e at certainty, because it is impossible to get more historical information on the subject, in the nineteenth century, than ecclesiastical writers had within reach in the third and fourth centuries ; still, when the question of the authen- ticity of the work is to be decided by an examination of its contents, the means of ascertaining the truth are by no means proportioned to the antiquity of the criticism, hi the early ages of Christianity, the science of faithfully investigating truth hardly had an existence ; and such has been the progress oi improvement in this department of knowledge, under the labors of modern theologians, that the writers of the nineteenth century may justly be considered as possessed of far more extensive and certain means of settling the character of this epistle by internal evidence, than were within the knowledge of those Christian Fathers who lived fifteen hundred years ago. The great objection against the epistle in the fourth century, was an al- leged dissimilarity of style between this and the former epistle. Now, there can be no doubt whatever that modern Biblical scholars have vastly greater means for judging of a rhetorical question of this kind, than the Christian Fathers of the fourth century, of whom those who were Grecians were really less scientifically acquainted with their own languag^e, and no more qualified for a comparison of this kind, than those who live in an age when the principles of criticism are so much better understood. With all these superior lights, the re- sults of the most accurate modern investigations have been decidedly 272 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. favorable to the authenticity of the second epistle ascribed to Peter, and the most rigid comparisons of its style with that of the former, have brought out proofs triumphantly satisfactory of its identity of origin with that, — proofs so much the more unquestionable, as they are borrowed from coincidences which must have been entirely natu- ral and incidental, and not the result of any deliberate collusion. This account of the second epistle is also taken from Hug and Michaelis, to whom, with Lardner, reference may be made for the details of all the arguments for and against its authenticity. The Syriac version {PeshiUi) excludes, besides this epistle, the second and third epistles of John, the epistle of Jude, and the Revelation of John. The best modern critical authority (John David Michaelis, Bp. Laurence, &c.) conspires with ancient tradition in fixing the date of this most ancient translation oi the New Testament at the close of the first century, which was probably before the excluded writings were generally circulated or known in the east as a part of the sacred canon. As to the place and time of writing this epistle, it seems quite probable that it was written where the former one was, since there is no account or hint whatever of any change in Peter's external circumstances ; and that it was written some years after it, is un- questionable, since its whole tenor requires such a period to have intervened, as would allow the first to reach them and be read by them, and also for the apostle to learn in the course of time the effects ultimately produced by it, and to hear of the rise of new diffi- culties requiring new apostolical interference and counsel. The first seems to have been directed mainly to those who were complete Jews, by birth, or by proselytism, as appears from the terms in which he repeatedly addresses them in it; but the sort of errors complained of in this epistle seem to have been so exclusively characteristic of Gen- tile converts, that it must have been written more particularly with reference to difficulties in that part of the religious communities of those regions. He condemns and refutes certain heretics who re- jected some of the fundamental truths of tiie Mosaic law, — errors which no well-trained Jew could ever be supposed to make, but which, in motley assemblages of different races, like the Christian churches, might naturally enough arise among those Gentiles, who felt impatient at the inferiority in which they seemed implicated by their ignorance of the doctrines of the Jewish theology, in which their circumcised brethren were so fiilly versed. It seems to have been more especially aimed at the rising sect of the Gnostics, who are known to have been heretical on some of the very points here alluded to. Its great similarity, in some passages, to the epistle of Jude, will make it the subject of allusion again in the life of that apostle. Doddridge conjectures the second epistle to have been written six years after the first, and the supposition is reasonable. Following the vulgar notion, however, he fixes its absolute date in the year 67,— a notion refuted by the facts above referred to. Besides these authentic writings of Peter, a great number of absurd forgeries, in- vented in the third and fourth centuries, were long circulated as his works, though they never obtained general credit. These are the Preaching of Peter, the Bevela- Peter's apostleship. 273 tifn of Peter, the Judgvient of Peter, the Acts of Peter, the Doctrine of Peter, and other still later trash, — all long since condemned and exploded as they deserve. HIS DEATH. The solemn words in which the apostle refers in the beginning of his last epistle, to the nearness of his own death, — specifying clearly that he " knew that he must shortly put off this earthly tabernacle, even as the Lord Jesus Christ had showed him," and that " he was urgent, in order that they might hold these things in remembrance after his decease,^'' — all seem to imply a prophetic force, and may therefore with reason be considered as fixing the actual time of his death within a few months or years of the date of this epistle. From the opinions already pronounced £is to the probable date of his last writing, it would appear that he was now quite advanced in years ; for if his age was as near that of Christ as is commonly supposed, he must have been not far from seventy years old. Already he must have felt the slow and solemn accomplishment of his Lord's warning at the meeting on the lake of Gennesar ; — no longer, as " when young, girding him- self and walking whither he would," with the animated movement which his constitutional vivacity and energy must have made char- acteristic of him, but in the decrepitude and helplessness of age, " stretching forth his hands that another might gird him," and in the melancholy decline of judgment and reason, no longer able to choose his own good, " but carried by another whither he would not." Perceiving by the beginning of these sad tokens, that even as his Lord showed him, he must soon put off his earthly taber- nacle, he seems to have made the last effort of which his mind was capable in writing his second epistle, prepared then to resign himself to that wasting decay and chilling decline into the grave, from which the divine gifts of inspiration shielded not the greatest of the apostles. He may have just survived the period of the destruction of Jerusalem, but probably the decay of mind and body foretold in those words of Jesus, which signified what manner of death he should die, soon after brought him to an oblivion of this life and all its events. The ruin of the temple and the nation, however, if he lived to hear of it, must have been an inspiring though mournful assurance of the certain fulfilment of that word which was not to pass away void, though heaven and earth should pass away ; and that day of Israel's fall must have risen on his aged eyes as with the dawning light of the last awful day, whose certain approach he had proclaimed with the latest effort of his pen. 274 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. With the exception of these vague allusions, the writings of the New Testament are entirely silent as to the last days of the chief apostle. Not a hint is given of the few remaining actions of his life, nor of the mode, place, or time of his death ; and all these concluding points have been left to be settled by conjecture, or by tradition as baseless. The only passage which has been supposed to give any hint of the manner of his death, is that in the last chapter of John's gospel. " Jesus says to him — ' I most solemnly tell thee, when thou wast young, thou didst gird thyself and walk whither thou wouldst ; but when thou shalt be old, another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldst not.' This he said, to make known by what sort of death he should glorify God." It has been commonly said that this is a distinct and unquestionable prophecy that he should in his old age be crucified, — the expres- sion, '' another shall gird thee and carry thee whither thou wouldst not," referring to his being bound to the cross and borne away to execution, since this was the only sort of death by which an apostle could be said, with much propriety or force, to "glo- rify God." And the long-established authority of tradition coin- ciding with this view, or rather, suggesting it, no very minute examination into the sense of the passage has often been made. But the words themselves are by no means decisive. Take a com- mon reader, who has never heard that Peter was crucified, and it would be hard for him to make out such a circumstance from the bare prophecy as given by John. Indeed such unbiased impres- sions of the sense of the passage will go far to justify the conclu- sion that the words imply nothing but that Peter was destined to pass a long life in the service of his Master, — that he should, after having worn out his bodily and mental energies in his devoted exertions, attain such an extreme decrepid old age as to lose the power of voluntary motion, and die thus, — without necessarily implying any bloody martyrdom. Will it be said that by such a quiet death he could not be considered as glorifying God ? The objection surely is founded in a misapprehension of the nature of those demonstrations of devotion, by which the glory of God is most effectually secured. There are other modes of mar- tyrdom than the dungeon, the sword, the axe, the flame, and the stone ; and in all ages since Peter, there have been thousands of martyrs who have, by lives steadily and quietly devoted to the cause of truth, no less glorified God, than those who were rapt to heaven in flame, in blood, and in tortures inflicted by a malignant Peter's apostleship. 276 persecution. Was not God truly glorified in the deaths of the aged Loyola, and Xavier, and Eliot, and Swartz, or the bright, early exits of Brainerd, Mills, Martyn, Parsons, Fisk, Milne, Gridley, and hundreds whom the apostolic spirit of modern missions has sent forth to labors as devoted, and to deaths as glorious to God, as those of any who swell the deified lists of the ancient martyr- ologies ? The whole notion of a bloody martyrdom as an essential termination to the life of a saint, grew out of a papistical super- stition ; nor need the enlig-htened minds of those who can better appreciate the manner in which God's highest glory is secured by the lives and deaths of his servants, seek any such superfluous aids to crown the mighty course of the great apostolic chief, whose solid claims to the name and honors of Martyr rest on higher grounds than so insignificant an accident as the manner of his death. All those writers who pretend to particularize the mode of his depart- ure, connect it also with the utterly impossible fiction of his resi- dence at Rome, on Avhich enough has been already said. Who will undertake to say, out of such a mass of matters, what is truth and what is falsehood 1 And if the views above given, on the high authority of the latest writers of even the Romish church, are of any value for any purpose whatever, they are perfectly decisive against the notion of Peter's martyrdom at Rome, in the persecu- tion under Nero, since Peter was then in Babylon, far beyond the vensreance of the Caesar : nor was he so foolish as ever after to have trusted himself in the reach of a perfectly unnecessary danger. The command of Christ was — " When you are perse- cuted in one city, flee into another," — the necessary and unques- tionable inference from which, was, that when out of the reach of persecution they should not wilfully go into it. This is a simple principle of Christian action, with which the fable-mongers were totally unacquainted, and they thereby afford the most satisfactory proof of the utter falsity of the actions and motives which they ascribe to the apostles. Referring to his being bound to the cross. — TertulliaQ seems to have first suggested this rather whimsical interpretation : — " Tunc Petrus ab altero cingitur, quum cruel adstringitur." (TertuU. Scorpiac. 15.) There seems to be more rhyme than reason in the sentence, however. The rejection of this forced interpretation is by no means a new notion. The critical Tremeliius long ago maintained that the verse had no reference whatever to a prophecy of Peter's crucifixion, though he probably had no idea of denying that Peter did actually die by crucifixion. Among more modem commentators, too, the prince of critics, Kainoel, with whom are quoted Semler, Gurlitt, and Scholt, utterly denies that a fair construction of the original will allow any prophetical idea to be based on it. The critical testimony of these great commentators on the true and just force of the words, is of the very highest value j becau.se all received the tale of 37 276 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. Peter's crucifixion as true, having never examined the authority of the tradition, and not one of them pretended to deny that he really was crucified. But in spile of this pre-conceived erroneous historical notion, their nice sense of what was grammati- cally and critically just, would not allow them to pervert the passage to the support of this long-established view; and they therefore pronounce it as merely expressive of the helplessness and imbecility of extreme old age, with which they make every word coincicfe. But Eloomfield, entirely carried away with the tide of antique authorities, is " surprised that so many recent commentators should deny that crucifixion is here alluded to, though they acknowledge that Peter suffered crucifixion." He might well be surprised, as I certainly was, on finding what mighty names had so disinterest- edly supported the interpretation which I had with fear and trembling adopted, in obedience to my own long-established, unaided convictions; but my surprise was of a decidedly agreeable sort. Peter's martyrdom. — The only authority which can be esteemed worthy of con- sideration on this point, is that of Clemens Romanus, who, in the latter part of the first century, (about the year 70, or as others say, 9G,) in his epistle to the Corinthians, uses these words respecting Peter: — " Peter, on account of unrighteous hatred, un- derwent not one, or two, but many labors, and having thus home his testimony, de- parted to the place of glory, which was his due," — (ovrw; lAaprvpfjaas imptvQn di t6v 6(pci\<>ficvov ToiTov ^o'^'/s.) Now it is by no means certain that the prominent word (mar- turesas) necessarily means " bearing testimony by death," or martyrdom in the modern sense. The primary sense of this verb is merely " to witness," in which simple meaning alone, it is used in the New Testament ; nor can any passage in the sacred writings be shown, in which this verb means " to bear witness to any cause, by death." This was a technical sense, (if I may so name it,) which the word ai last acquired among the Fathers, when they were speaking of those who bore witness to the truth of the gos- pel of Christ by their blood ; and it was a meaning which at last nearly excluded all the true original senses of the verb, limiting it mainly to the notion of a death by persecution for the sake of Christ. Thence our English words, martyr and martyr- dom. But that Clement by this use of the word, in this connexion, meant to convey the idea of Peter's having been killed for the sake of Christ, is an opinion utterly incapable of proof, and moreover rendered improbable by the words joined to it in the passage. The sentence is — " Peter underwent many labors, and having thus borne witness" to the gospel truth, " went to the place of glory which he deserved." Now the adverb " thus," (oiira)?,) seems to me mo.st distinctly to show what was the nature of this testimony, and the manner also in which he bore it. It points out more plainly than any other words could, the fact that his testimony to the truth of the gospel was borne in the zealous labors of a devoted life, and not by the agonies of a bloody death. There is not in the whole context, nor in all the writings of Clement, any hint whatever that Peter was killed for the sake of the gospel ; and we are therefore required by every sound rule of interpretation, to stick to the primary sense of the verb, in this passage. Lardner most decidedly mis-translates it in the text of his work, so that any common reader would be grossly deceived as to the expression in the original of Clement, — "Peter underwent many labors, till at last being martyred, he went," &c. The Greek word, ovtm^, {houtos,) means always — " in this manner," " thus," " so," and is not a mere expletive, like the English phrase, " and so," which is a mere form of transition from one part of the narrative to the other. In the similar passage of Clement which refers to Paul, there is something in the connexion which may seem to favor the conclusion that he understood Paul to have been put to death by the Roman officers. His words are — " and after having borne his testimony before governors, he was thus sent out of the world," &c. Here the word " thus," coming after the participle, may perhaps be considered, in view ai.so of its other connexions, as implying his removal from the world by a violent deaih, in conseqvence of the testimony borne by him before the governors. This, however, will bear some dispute, and will need a fuller discussion elsewhere. But in respect to the passage which refers to Peter, the burden of proof may fairly be said to lie on those who maintain the old opinion. Here the word is shown to have, in the New Testament, no such application to death as it has since acquired; and the question is, whether Clemens Romanus, a man himself of the apo.slolic age, who lived and perhaps wrote, before the canon was completed, had already learned to give a new meaning to a verb, before so simple and unlimited in its applications. No person can pretend to trace this meaning to within a century of the Clementine age, nor docs Suicer refer to any one who knew of such use before Clemens Alex- andrinus. (See his Thes.; Muorup.) Clement himself uses it in the same epistie PETERS APOSTLESHIP. 277 •(§ xvii.) in its unquestionable primary sense, speaking of Abraham as having re- ceived an honorable testimony, — (f/iaprwpi'iO'/ ;) for who will say that Abraham was martyred, in the modern sense 1 The fact, too, that Clement no where else gives the least glimmer of a hint that Peter died any where but in his bed, fixes the position here taken, beyond all possibility of attack, except by its being shown that he uses this verb somewhere else, with the sense of death unquestionably attached to it. There is no other early writer who can be said to speak of the manner of Peter's death, before Dionysius of Corinth, who says that " Peter and Paul having taught in Italy together, bore their testimony" (by death, if you please,) "about the same time." An argument might here also be sustained on the word ijiapTvoriuav, {emarturesan,) but the evidence of Dionysius, mixed as it is with a demonstrated fable, is not worth a verbal criticism. The same may be .said of TertuUian, Lactantius, Eusebius, and the rest of the later Fathers, as given in the note on pages 245 — 250. An examination of the word Maprvp, in Suicer's Thesaurus Ecclesiasticus, will show the critical, that even in later times, this word did not necessarily imply " one who bore his testimony to the truth at tJw sacrifice of life." Even Chrysostom, in who.se time the peculiar limitation of the term might be supposed to be very well established, uses the word in such applications as to show that its original force was not wholly lost. By Athanasius, too, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, are styled mia.rtyrs. Gregory Nazianzen also speaks of " living martyrs." (^cjites ^ujampw.) Theophyiact calls the apostle John a viartyr, though he declares him to have passed through the hands of his persecutors unhurt, and to have died by the course of nature. Clemens Alexandrinus has similar u.ses of the term ; and the Apostolical Constitu- tions, of doubtful date, but much later than the first century, also give it in such ap- plications. Suicer distinctly specifies several classes of persons, not martyrs in the modern sense, to whom the Greek word is nevertheless applied in the writings of even the later Fathers ; as " those who testified the truth of the gospel of Christ, at X\i& peril of life merely, without the loss of it," — "those who obeyed the requirements of the gospel, by restraining passion," &c. In some of these instances, however, it is palpable that the application of the word to .such persons is secondary, and made in rather a poetical way, with a reference to the more common meaning of loss of life for the sake of Christ, since there is always implied a testimo7iy at the risk or loss of something; still the power of these instances to render doubtful the meaning of the term is unquestionable. (See Suicer's Thes. Ecc. Maprtio, III. 2, 5, 6.) In justification of the certainty with which sentence is pronounced against the whole story of Peter's ever having gone to Rome, it is only necessary to refer to the full statements on pages 245 — 250, in which the complete array of ancient evi- dence on the point, is given by Dr. Murdock. If the support of great names is needed, those of Scaliger, Salmasius, Spanheim, and Bower, all mighty minds in criticism, are enough to justify the seeming boldness of the opinion, that Peter never went west of the Hellespont, and probably never embarked on the Mediterranean. In conclusion of the whole refutation of this long-established error, the matter cannot be more fairly presented, than in the words with which the critical and learned Bower opens his Lives of the Popes: " To avoid being imposed upon, we ought to treat tradition as we do a notorious and known liar, to whom we give no credit, unless what he says is confirmed to us by .some person of undoubted veracity. If it is affirmed by him alone, we can at most but suspend our belief, not rejecting it as false, because a liar may sometimes speak truth; but we cannot, upon hisrbare authority, admit it as true. IN'ow that St. Peter was at Rome, that he was bishop of Rome, we are told by tradition alone, which, at the same time, tells us of so many strange circumstances attending his coming to that metropolis, his staying in it, his withdrawing from it, &c., that in the opinion of every unprejudiced man, the whole must savor .strongly of romance. Thus we are told that St. Peter went to Rome'chiefly to oppose Simon, the celebrated magician; that at their first interview, at which Nero himself was present, he flew up into the air, in the sight of the emperor and the whole city ; but that the devil, who had thus raised him, struck with dread and terror at the name of Jesus, whom the apostle invoked, let him fall to the ground, by vvhich fall he broke his legs. Should you question the truth of this tradition at Rome, they would show you the prints of St. Peter's knees in the stone, on which he kneeled on this occasion, and another .stone still dyed with the blood of the magician. This account .seems to have been bor- rowed from Suetonius, who speaks of a person that, in the public sports, undertook to fly, in the presence of the emperor Nero; but on his first attempt, fell to the ground; 278 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. by which fall his blood sprung out with such violence that it reached the emperor*s canopy." Dr.'Murdock, in immediate continuation of his remarks on the testimony of the Fathers respecting Peter's visit to Rome, given above on pp. 245 — 250, thus cau- tiously but powerfully meets the final question: " But (he testimony of the earlier Fathers does not necessarily carry Peter to Rome, till after the year 64, nor does it make him at all bishop of Rome. It muy therefore be trne, notwithstanding all the objections which have been stated against Peter's earlier arrival and his episcopacy there. And the number and agreement of the witnesses, and their proximity to the apostolic age, should induce us not to slight their testimony, or treat it as if of no weight. And yet it is possible they were misled by some popular tales. If we reject, as many do, the report of Paul's release from captivity, in the year 64, we must also reject the testimony of the early Fathers re- ipecliiig his going with Peter to Rome, and there sulfering martyrdom with him, in the year 68. But admitting Paul's release from his first captivity, then, I can see no ob- jections to admitting this testimony of the early Fathers, except the following : — Paul wrote bis second epistle to Timothy at Rome, and during his last confinement there ; that is — a little before he and Peter (according to the tradition) were put to death. Yet on reading this epistle, we find that Peter is not once named, or even alluded to, from the beginning to the end of it. Paul speaks of his own bonds, but not a word of Peter's. He tells us he was " ready to be ofiered up," and that the time of /a.s depart- ure was at hand, but says not a word of Peter's being to suffer with him, at the same lime. He sends the salutations of five or six different persons, and of the whole church, but none from Peter. He speaks of many of his fellow-laborers in the gos- pel, who were dispersed here and there, and mentions who were at Rome, but makes no mention of Peter. Nay, he says expressly — " only Luke is with me. 'Take Mark, and bring him with thee." (2 Tim. iv. 11.) Now all this certainly is very strange, if Peter was then with Paul at Rome, a fellow-prisoner, and both soon to be put to death on the same day." (Murdock's MS. Lectures. Abr. series. No. V. pp. 27, 28.) THE SECOND SUPPOSED VISIT TO ROME. The notion of his having ended his life in Rome, and of his being crnci- fied there during the first Roman persecution of the Christians, is connect- ed with another adventure with that useful character, Simon Magus, who, as the tale runs, after being first vanquished so thoroughly by Peter, in the reign of Claudius, returned to Rome, in the reign of Nero, and made such progress again in his magical tricks, as to rise into the highest favor with this emperor, as he had with the former. This of course required a new effort from Peter, which ended in the disgrace and death of the magician, who, attempting to fly through the air in the presence of the emperor and people in the theatre, was, by the prayer of Peter, caused to fall from his aspiring course to the ground, by which he was so much in- jured as to die soon after. The emperor being provoked at the loss of his favorite, turned all his wrath against the apostle who had been directly instrumental in his ruin, and imprisoned him with the design of executing him as soon as might be convenient. While in these circumstances, or, as others say, before he was imprisoned, he was earnestly exhorted by the disciples in Rome, to make his escape. He therefore, reluctantly begari to move off, one dark night ; but had hardly got beyond the walls of the city, — indeed, he was just passing out of the gate Avay, — when, whom should he meet but Jesus Christ himself, coming towards Rome. Peter asked, with some reasonable surprise, "-Lord! where are you going?" Christ answered, " I am coming to Rome, to be crucified again." Peter at once took this as a hint that he ought to have stayed, and that Christ meant to be crucified again in the crucifixion of his apostle. He accord- Peter's apostleship. 279 ingly turned right about, and went back into the city, where, having given to the wondering brethren an account of the reasons of his return, he was immediately seized, and was crucified, to the glory of God. Now it is a sufficient answer to this or any similar fable, to judge the blasphemous in- ventor out of his own mouth, and out of the instructions given by Christ himse'f to his servants, for their conduct, in all cases where they were threatened with persecution, as above quoted. And Peter would no doubt have answered any inquiry as to the propriety of flight in such a case, by the words of Christ himself — " When you are persecuted in one city, flee into another." The inventors of fables goon to give us the minute particulars of Peter's death, and especially note the circumstance that he was crucified with his head downwards and his feet uppermost, he himself having desired that it might be done in that manner, because he thought himself unworthy to be crucified as his Master was. This was a mode sometimes adopted by the Romans, as an additional pain and ignominy. But Peter must have been singularly accommodating to his persecutors, to have suggested this im- provement upon his tortures to such malignant murderers ; and must have manifested a spirit more accordant with that of a savage defying his ene- mies to increase his agonies, than with that of the mild, submissive Jesus. And such has been the evident absurdity of the story, that many of the most ardent receivers of fables have rejected this circumstance as improba- ble, more especially as it is not found among the earliest stories of his crucifixion, but evidently seems to have been appended among later im- provements. Perhaps it is hardly worth while to dismiss these fables altogether without first alluding to the rather ancient one, first given by Clemens Alexandrinus, (Stromal. 7, p. 736,) and copied verbatim by Eusebius, (H. E. III. 30.) Both the reverend Fathers, however, introduce the story as a tradition, a mere on dit, prefacing it with the ex- pressive phrase — " They say," &c. (^ao!.) " The blessed Peter seeing his wife led to death, was pleased with the honor of her being thus called by God to return home, and thus addressed her in words of exhortation and consolation, calling her byname, — ' O woman! remember the Lord.'" The story comes up from the hands of tradi- tion rather too late, however, to be entitled to any credit whatever, being recorded by Clemens Alexandrinus full 200 years after Christ. It was probably invented in the times when it was thought worth while to cherish the spirit of voluntary martyrdom, among even the female sex ; for which purpose instances were sought out or invented respecting those of the apostolic days. That Peter had a wife is perfectly true ; and it is also probable that she accompanied him about on his travels, as would appear from a passage in Paul's writings; (1 Cor. ix. 5;) but beyond this, nothing is known of her life or death. Similar fables might be endlessly multiplied from papistical sources ; more especially from the Clementine novels, and the apostolical romances of Abdias Babylonius; but the object of the present work is true history, and it would require a whole volume much larger than this to give all the details of Christian my- thology. Among the traditions of the third and fourth centuries, there is also a story thai Peter left a daughter named Petronia, of whose supposed life no incident is recorded, except that, like almost every other fabled saint, she died by martyrdom. HIS TOMB. Trying of old age in the great though decayed ancient city, which had been to him, as well as to numerous refugees from Pa- lestine, a safe home and a useful station in his declining years, the chief apostle must have laid his bones in Babylon. He sleeps # 280 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. in that ancient seat of empire, once the mournful scene of the cap- tivity of Judah, at the ruin of the first temple and city, but after- wards, by a strange revolution of circumstances, a place of refuge and peace to the remnant that escaped that second and last fall of Jerusalem. Babylon, the primeval seat of empire, of old "the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldees' pride," doomed like Sodom and Gomorrah, — in the last days of its being, thus became consecrated by the grave of one blest above all men, as the chief minister of that faith whose dominion was to stretch over lands and nations vaster and mightier than a hundred Chal- dean empires. The city doomed to become the dwelling-place of serpents and wild beasts, to be a spot so desolate and loathsome as to fright the savage wanderer from pitching his tent in the shade of its ruins, did not, indeed, with the less certainty, fall from its latter glories to the most literal completion of its fate ; but the dreary waste and marshy void that show the place of its glories, are hallowed to the Christian reader, by the bare probability of their covering Peter's grave, with an influence that transcends the darkest power of all the maledictions and imprecations of ancient prophecy. Of course, the fables invented about Peter, by the inveterate papists, do not cease with his death. In regard to the place of his tomb, a new story was needed, and it is accordingly given with the usual particularity. It is said that he was buried at Rome in the Vatican plain, in the district beyond the Tiber, in which he was supposed to have first preached among the Jews, and where stood the great circus of Nero, in which the apostle is said to have been crucified. Over this bloody spot, a church was afterwards raised by Constantine the Great, who chose for its site part of the ground that had been occupied by the circus, and the spaces where the temples of Mars and Apollo had stood. The church, though of no great architectural beauty, was a building of great magnitude, being three hundred feet long, and more than one hundred and fifty feet wide. This building stood nearly twelve hundred years, when becoming ruinous in spite of all repairs, it was removed to give place to the present cathedral church of St. Peter, now the most immense and magnificent building in the world, — not too much praised in the graphic verse in which the pilgrim-poet sets it beyond all comparison with the greatest piles of ancient or modern art : " But lo! the dome— the vast and wondrous dome, To which Diana's marvel was a cell — Christ's mighty shrine above his martyr's tomb ! I have beheld the Ephesians' miracle — Its columns strew the wilderness, and dwell The hyena and the jackall in their shade ; I have beheld Sophia's bright roofs swell Their glittering mass i' the sun, and have surveyed lis sanctuary, the while the usurping Moslem prayed. Peter's apostleship. 281 " But thou, of temples old, or altars new, Siandest alone — with nothing like to thee — Worthiest of God, the holy and the true! Since Zion's desolation, when that He Forsook his former city, what could be Of earthly structures in his honor piled, Of a sublimer aspect 1" — THE VISION OF HIS RISING. Within the most holy place of this vast sanctuary, — beneath the very centre of that wonderful dome, which rises in such unequaled vastness above it, redounding far more to the glory of the man who reared it, than of the God whose altar it covers, — in the vaulted crypt which lies below the pavement, is a shrine, before which a hundred lamps are constantly burning, and over which the prayers of thousands are daily rising. This is called the tomb of the saint to whom the whole pile is dedicated, and from whom the great high priest of that temple draws his claim to the keys of the kingdom of heaven, with the power to bind and loose, and the assurance of heaven's sanction on his decrees. But what a con- trast is all this " pride, pomp, and circumstance," to the bare purity of the faith and character of the simple man whose life and con- duct are recorded on these pages ! If any thing whatever may be drawn as a well-authorized conclusion from the details that have been given of his actions and motives, it is that Simon Peter was a " plain, blunt" man, laboring devotedly for the object to which he had been called by Jesus, and with no other view whatever, than the advancement of the kingdom of his Master, — the incul- cation of a pure spiritual faith, which should seek no support, nor the slightest aid, from the circumstances which charm the eye and ear, and win the soul through the mere delight impressed upon the senses, as the idolatrous priests who now claim his name and ashes, maintain their dominion in the hearts of millions of worse than pagan worshipers. His whole life and labors were pointed at the very extirpation of forms and ceremonies, — the erec- tion of a pure, rational, spiritual dominion in the hearts of man- kind, so that the blessings of a glorious faith, which for two thou- sand years before had been confined to the limits of a ceremonial system, might now, disenthralled from all the bonds of sense, and exalted above the details of tedious forms, of natural distinctions, and of antique rituals, — spread over a field as wide as humanity. For this he lived and toiled, and in the clear hope of a triumphant fulfilment of that plan, he died. And if, from his forgotten, un- LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. known grave, among the ashes of the Chaldean Babylon, and from the holy rest which is for the blessed, the now glorified apostle could be called to the renewal of breathing, earthly life, and see the results of his energetic, simple-minded devotion, — what wonder, what joy, what grief, what glory, what shame, would not the reve- lation of these mighty changes move within him ! The simple, pure gospel which he had preached in humble, faithful obedience to the divine command, without a thought of glory or reward, now exalted in the unintelligent reverence of hundreds of millions ! — but where appreciated in its simplicity and truth ? The cross on which his Master was doomed to ignominy, now exalted as the sign of salvation, and the seal of God's love to the world ! — (a spectacle as strange to a Roman or Jewish eye, as to a modern would be the gallows, similarly consecrated !) — but who burning with that devo- tion which led him of old to bear that shameful burden ? His own humble name raised to a place above the brightest of Roman, of Hellenic, of Hebrew, or Chaldean story ! but made, alas ! the sup- porter of a tyranny over souls, far more grinding and remorseless than any which he labored to overthrow. The fabled spot of his grave housed in a temple to which the noblest shrine of ancient heathenism " was but a cell !" but in which are celebrated, under the sanction of his sainted name, the rites of an idolatry, than which that of Italy, or Greece, or Syria, or Egypt, would seem more spiritual, — and of tedious, unmeaning ceremonies, compared with which the whole formalities of the Levitical ritual might be pronounced simple and practical ! These would be the first sights that would meet the eye of the disentombed apostle, if he should rise over the spot which claims the honors of his martyr-tomb, and the consecration of his com- mission. How mournfully would he turn from all the mighty honors of that idolatrous worship, — from the deifying glories of that sublimest of all shrines that ever rose over the earth ! How earnestly would he long for the high temple of one humble, pure heart, that knew and felt the simplicity of the truth as it was in Jesus ! How joyfully would he hail the manifestations of that active evangelizing spirit that consecrated and fitted him for his great missionary enterprise ! His amazed and grieved soul would doubtless here and there feel its new view rewarded, in the sight of much that was accordant with the holy feeling that inspired the apostolic band. All over Christendom, might he find scattered the ocrasional lights of a purer devotion, and on many lands he would Peter's apostleship. 283 see the tratn pouring, in something of the clear splendor for which he hoped and labored. But of the countless souls that owned Jesus as Lord and Savior, millions on millions, — and vast numbers, too, even in the lands of a reformed faith, — would be found still clinging to the vain support of forms, and names, and observances ; and but a few, a precious few, who had learned what that mean- eth — " I will have mercy and not sacrifice" — works and not words, — deeds and not creeds, — high, simple, active, energetic, enter- prising devotion, and not cloistered reverence — chanceled worship, — or soul-wearying rituals. Would not the apostle, sickened with the revelations of such a resurrection, and more appalled than de- lighted, call on the power that brought him up from the peaceful rest of the blessed, to give him again the calm repose of those who die in the Lord, rather than the idolatrous honors of such an apo- theosis, or the strange sight of the results of such an evangeliza- tion ? — " Let me enter again the gates of Hades, but not the por- tals of these temples of superstition. Let me lie down with the souls of the humble, but not in the shrine of this heathenish pile. Leave me once more to rest from my labors, with my works still following ; and call me not from this repose till the labors I left on earth unachieved, have been better done. ' We did not follow these cunningly-devised fables, when we made known to men the power and the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but the simple eye-witness story of his majesty.' ' We had a surer word of pro- phecy ; and well would it have been, if these had turned their wandering eyes to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, and kept that steady beacon in view, through the stormy gloom of ages, until the day dawn and the day-star arise in their hearts*' These are not ' the new heavens and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness, for which we looked, according to God's promise.' Those must the faithful still look for, believing that ' Jehovah, with whom a thousand years are as one day, is not slack concerning his promise, but desires all to come to repentance,' and will come himself at last in the achievment of our labors. Then call me." As sure as there is any truth in the revelation which Peter pro- claimed, and to which he devoted his life, and whose distant but certain consummation he saw with his latest vision, and attested with the last remaining effort of his pen, — the day will come when he will indeed arise from his forgotten grave, and in the light of the latter days, glance over the mighty extensions and results of 38 284 LIVKS OP THE APOSTLES. his work. When his eye shall survey the numberless millions that claim salvation and eternal happiness through the faith which he preached, what will be the one kindred principle by which, among the inconceivable varieties of creed and doctrine professed by those who own him as the first human minister of God's last revelation, he will recognize the essence and the unity of the Christian faith ? What will be the characteristic by which he will know that the same mind is in us which was also in him? Will it not be that pure, devoted affection for his Lord, which was the substance of his faith and the animating principle of his devotion ? The love for man and for man's Redeemer, which flows forth spon- taneously from the knowledge and the feeling of the moral weak- ness of the one and the divine perfection of the other, will be the test that will reveal at the first glance the spirit of Christianity. This, of itself and alone, will be the key of heaven ; and just in proportion to the active development and manifestation of this principle, in such works as constituted the function and the proof of his apostleship, will be the highth to which the spirit shall mount in the scale of eternal being. How vain and idle then, in the light of such a day, must appear the cumbrous and artificial array of doctrines and creeds and observances, with which the hosts of modern sectarians so hedge up the path and perplex the search of the inquirer for truth and salvation ! The spirit of love which was the consolation of Peter's life, shall deepen the enjoyments of his eternal rest, and highten the rapture with which he will hail that Lord's appearing. Even as one of our own poets has pictured, in his noble vision of the last judgment, the holy joy of the apos- tolic band at the dazzling revelation of their beloved Lord in the majesty of his glories : " What a tide Of overwhelming thoughts pressed to their souls, When now, as he so frequent promised, throned, And circled by the hosts uf heaven, they traced The well-known lineaments of him who shared Their wants and sufferings here ! Full many a day Of fasting spent with him, and night of prayer. Rushed to their swelling hearts. Before the rest, Close to the angelic spears, had Peter urged, ; Tears in his eye, love throbbing at his breast, As if to touch his vesture, or to catch The murmur of his voice. On him and them Jesus beamed down benignant looks of love." THE PROGRESS OP HIS SPIRITUAL DEVELOPMENT. What a life was this ! Its opening scenes present a poor fisher- man, in a rude, despised province, toiling day by day in a low, Peter's apostleship. 285 laborious business, — living with hardly a hope above the beasts that perish. By the side of that lake, one morning, walked a mysterious man, who, with mild words but wondrous deeds, called the poor fisherman to leave all, and follow him. Won by the commanding promise of the call, he obeyed, and followed that new Master, with high hopes of earthly glory for a while, which at last were darkened and crushed in the gradual developments of a far deeper plan than his rude mind could at first have appreciated. But still he followed him, through toils and sorrows, through reve- lations and trials, at last to the sight of his bloody cross ; and fol- lowed him, still unchanged in heart, basely and almost hopelessly wicked. The fairest trial of his virtue proved him, after all, lazy, bloody-minded, but cowardly, — lying, and utterly faithless in the promise of new life from the grave. But a change came over him. He, so lately a cowardly disowner of his Master's name, now, with a courageous martyr-spirit dared the wrath of the awful magnates of his nation, in attesting his faith in Christ. Once a rough, impet- uous, fighting Galilean, — henceforth he lived an unresisting sub- ject of abuse, stripes, bonds, imprisonment, and threatened death. When was there ever such a triumph of grace in the heart of man? The conversion of Paul himself could not be compared with it, as a moral miracle. The apostle of Tarsus was a refined, well-educated man, brought up in the great college of the Jewish law, theology, and literature, and not wholly unacquainted with the Grecian writers. The power of a high spiritual faith over such a mind, however steeled by prejudice, was not so wonderful as its renovating, refining, and elevating influence on the rude fisherman of Bethsaida. Paul was a man of considerable natural genius, and he shows it on every page of his writings ; but in Peter there are seen few evidences of a mind naturally exalted, and the whole tenor of his words and actions seems to imply a character of sound common sense, and great energy, but of per- ceptions and powers of expression, great, not so much by inborn genius, as by the impulse of a higher spirit within him, gradually bringing him to the possession of new faculties, — intellectual as well as moral. This was the spirit which raised him from the humble task of a fisherman, to that of drawing men and nations within the compass of the gospel, and to a glory and a dominion of adoration and fame, which not all the founders of ancient em- pire, nor all the gods of ancient superstition, ever attained. The temples of Jove now bear the name and ring with the praises of 286 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. the Galilean leader, — ^the throne of the Caesars is displaced by the chair of Peter: the proud column which commemorated tlie wide northern and eastern triumphs of the truly imperial Trajan, is known to the modern Roman only as the pillar of St. Peter ; " and apostolic statues climb To crush the imperial urn, whose ashes slept sublime," HIS FAME. Most empty honors ! Why hew down the marble mountains, and pile them into walls as massive and as lasting? Why rear the stately column, the colossal image, the solemn arches, and the lofty towers, to overtop the everlasting hills with their heavenward heads ? Or lift the skiey dome into the middle heaven, almost out- swelling the blue vault itself? Why task the soul of art for new creations to line the long-drawn aisles, and gem the fretted roof with the thousand combinations of form, shade, and color, that the hand of genius can embody ? There is a glory that shall out- last all " The cloud-capped towers, — the gorgeous palaces, — The solemn temples, — the great globe itself, — Yea, all which it inherit;" — a glory far beyond the brightest things of earth in its brightest day ; for " they that be wise shall shine as the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and ever." Yet in this the apostle rejoices not ; — not that adoring millions lift his name in prayers, and thanksgivings, and songs, and incense, from the noblest piles of man's creation, to the glory of a god, — not even that over all the earth, in all ages, till the perpetual hills shall bow with time, — till " eternity grows gray," the pure in heart will yield him the highest human honors of the faith, on which nations, continents, and worlds, hang their hopes of salvation ; — he " rejoices, not that the spirits" of angels or men " are subject to him, — but that his name is written in heaven." ANDREW. HIS SCRIPTURAL HISTORY. The name 3f this apostle is here brought in directly after his eminent brother, in accordance with the lists of the apostles given by Matthew and Luke, in their gospels, where they seem to dis- pose them allin pairs; and they very naturally, in this case, prefer family affinity as a principle of arrangement, putting together in this and the following instances, those who were sons of the same father. The most eminent son of Jonah, deservedly taking the highest place on all the lists, his brother might very properly so far share in the honors of this distinction, as to be mentioned along with him, without any necessary'' implication of the possession of any of that moral and intellectual superiority, on which Peter's claim to the first place was grounded. These seem, at least, to have been sufficient reasons for Matthew, in arranging the apos- tles, and for Luke in his gospel ; while in his history of the Acts of the Apostles, the latter followed a different plan, putting Andrew fourth on the list, and giving the sons of Zebedee a place before him, as Mark did also. The uniform manner in which James and John are mentioned along with Peter on great occasions, to the total neglect of Andrew, seems to imply that this apostle was quite behind his brother in those excellences which fitted him for the leading place in the great Christian enterprise ; since it is most reasonable to believe that, if he had possessed iaculties of such a high order, he would have been readily selected to enjoy with him the peculiar privileges of a most intimate personal intercourse with Jesus, and to share the high honors of his peculiar revelations of glory and power. The question of the relative age of the two sons of Jonah has been already settlexi in the beginning of the life of Peter ; and in the same part of the work have also been given all the particulars about their family, rank, residence, and occupation, which are de- sirable for the illustration of the lives and characters of both. So, too, throughout the whole of the sacred narrative, every thing that 28S LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. could concern Andrew has been abundantly expressed and com- mented on, in the life of Peter. The occasions on which the name of this apostle is mentioned in the New Testament, indeed, except in the bare enumeration of the twelve, are only four, — his first introduction to Jesus, — his actual call, — the feeding of the five thousand, (where he said to Jesus — " there is a lad here with five barley-loaves and two small fishes ; but what are these among so many?") — and the circumstance of his being present with his brother and the sons of Zebedee at the scene on the mount of Olives, when Christ foretold the utter ruin of the temple. Of these three scenes, in the first only did he perform such a part as to re- ceive any other than a bare mention in the gospel history ; nor even in that solitary circumstance does his conduct seem to have been of much importance, except as leading his brother to the knowledge of Jesus. From the circumstance, however, of his being specified as the first of all the twelve who had a peisonal acquaintance with Jesus, he has been honored by many writers with the distinguishing title of " the first called," although others have claimed the dignity of this appellation for another apostle, in whose life the particular reasons for such a claim will be mentioned. The first called. — In Greek npayrSKMrog, (protokletos,) by which name he is called by Nicephorus Callistus, (H. E. II. 39,) and by several of the Greek Fathers, as quoted by Cangius, (Gloss, in voc.) and referred to by Lampe, (Prolegom. in Joan- nem.) Suicer, however, makes no reference whatever to this term. From the minute narrative of the circumstances of the call, given by John in the first chapter of his gospel, it appears, that Andrew, excited by the fame of the great Baptizer, had left his home at Bethsaida, and gone to Bethabara, (on the same side of the Jordan, but farther south,) where the solemn and ardent appeals of the bold herald of inspiration so far equaled the expectation awakened by rumor, that, along with vast multitudes who seem to have made but an indifierent progress in religious knowledge, though brought to the repentance and confession of their sins, he was baptized in the Jordan, and was also attached to the person of the great preacher in a peculiar manner, as it would seem, aiming at a still more advanced state of indoctrination, than ordinary con- verts could be expected to attain. While in this diligent personal atlendence on his new Master, he was one day standing with him upon the banks of the Jordan, the great scene of the mystic sacra- ment, listening to the incidental instructions which fell from the lips of the holy man, in company with another disciple, his conn- ANDREW. 289 try man and friend. In the midst of the conversation, perhaps, while discoursing upon the deep question then in agitation, about the advent of the Messiah, suddenly the great preacher exclaimed — " Behold the Lamb of God !" The two disciples at once turned their eyes towards the person thus solemnly designated as the Mes- siah, and saw walking by them, a stranger, whose demeanor was such as to mark him for the object of the Baptizer's apostrophe. With one accord, the two hearers at once left the teacher, who now referred them to a higher source of truth and purity, and both followed together the footsteps of the wonderful stranger, of whose real character they knew nothing, though their curiosity must have been most highly excited, by the solemn mystery of the words in which his greatness was announced. As they hurried after him, the sound of their hasty feet fell on the ear of the re- tiring stranger, who turning towards his inquiring pursuers, mildly met their curious glances with the question — " Whom seek ye ?" — thus giving them an opportunity to state their wishes for his ac- quaintance. They eagerly answered by the question, implying their desire for a permanent knowledge of him, — "Rabbi! (Teacher,) where dwellest thou ?" He kindly answered them with a polite invitation to accompany him to his lodgings ; for there is no reason to believe that they went with him to his permanent home in Ca- pernaum or Nazareth ; since Jesus was probably then staying at some place near the scene of the baptism. Being hospitably and familiarly entertained by Jesus, as his intimate friends, it being then four o'clock in the afternoon, they remained with him till the next day, enjoying a direct personal intercourse, which gave them the best opportunities for learning his character and his power to im- part to them the high instructions which they were prepared to expect, by the solemn annunciation of the great Baptizer ; and, at the same time, it shows their own earnestness and zeal for acquiring a knowledge of the Messiah, as well as his benignant familiarity in thus receiving them immediately into such a domestication with him. After this protracted interview with Jesus, Andrew seems to have attained the most perfect conviction that his newly adopted teacher was all that he had been declared to be ; and in the eager- ness of a warm fraternal affection, he immediately sought his dear brother Simon, and exultingly announced to him the great results of his yesterday's introduction to the wonderful man ; — " We have found the Messiah !" Such a declaration, made with the confidence of one who knew by personal experience, at once secured the at- 290 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. tention of the no less ardent Simon ; and he accordingly gave him- self up to the guidance of the confident Andrew, who led him directly to Jesus, anxious that his beloved brother should also share in the high favor of the Messiah's friendship and instruction. This is the most remarkable recorded circumstance of Andrew's life ; and on his ready adherence to Jesus, and the circumstance that he, first of all the disciples, declared him to be the Messiah, may be founded a just claim for a most honorable distinction of Andrew. Bethabara. — Some of the later critics seem disposed to reject this now common reading, and to adopt in its place that of Bethany, which is supported by such a num- ber of old manuscripts and versions, as to offer a strong defense against the word at present established. Both the Syriac versions, the Arabic, Aethiopic, the Vulgate, and the Saxon, give " Bethany ;" and Origen, from whom the other reading seems to have arisen, confesses that the previously established word was Bethany, which he (with about as much regard for evidence as could be expected before the rules by which such questions are settled had been fixed) rejected for the unauthorized Beth- abara, on the ground that there is such a place on the Jordan, mentioned in Judg. vii. 24, — while Bethany is elsewhere in the gospels described as close to Jerusalem, on the mount of Olives j the venerable Father never apprehending the probability of two different places bearing the same name, nor referring to the etymology of Bethany, which is r\KH rr^;, {heth anyah,) " the house (or place) of a boat," equivalent to a " ferry." (Origen on John, quoted by Wolf.) Chrysostom and Epiphanius are also quoted by Lampe, as defending this perversion on similar grounds. Heracleon, Non- nus, and Beza are referred to in defense of Bethany ; and among the more modem, Mill, Simon, and others, are quoted by Wolf on the same side. Campbell and Bloom- field also defend this view. Scultetus, Grotius, and Casaubon argue in favor of Betha- bara. Lightfoot makes a long argument to prove that Bethany, the true reading, means not any village or particular spot of that name, but the province or tract, called Batanea, lying beyond the Jordan, in the northern part of its course, — a conjecture hardly supported by the structure of the word, nor by the opinion of any other -writer. This Bethany beyond the Jordan, seems to have been thus particularized as to posi- tion, in order a distinguish it from the place of the same name near Jerusalem. Its exact situation cannot now be ascertained; but it was commonly placed about fifteen or twenty miles south of Gennesaret. Lamb of God. — This expression has been the subject of much discussion, and has been amply illustrated by the labors of learned commentators. Whether John the Baptizer expected Jesus to atone for the sins of the world, by death, has been a ques- tion ably argued by Kuinoel and Gabler against, and by Lampe, Wolf, and Bloom- field, for the idea of an implied sacrifice and expiation. The latter writer in par- ticular, is very full and cjmdid : Wolf also gives a great number of references, and to these authors the critical must resort for the minutiae of a discussion, too heavy and protracted for this work. (See the above authors on John i. 29.) After narrating the particulars of his call, in which he was merely a companion of his brother, and after specifying his inci- dental remark to Jesus at the feeding of the five thousand, and the circumstance of his being present at the prophecy of the temple's destruction, the New Testament history takes not the shghtest notice of any action of Andrew's life ; nor is he even mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, except in the mere list of their names in the first chapter. For any thing further, reference must be made to such dark and dubious historical materials as the tradi- tions of the Fathers afford. ANDREW. ' 291 HIS TRADITIONARY HISTORY. The most rational conjecture about the subsequent movements of Andrew, would be that he removed along with Peter to the east, before the destruction of Jerusalem. With this allowable supposition, and also with the general voice of ancient accounts respecting the great majority of the Galilean apostles, the earliest and best authorized tradition respecting Andrew agrees perfectly. The earliest account of him is qiioted from one of the most trust- worthy and judicious of the Fathers ; still, dating as late as the third century, and mixed as it is with known fabulous matter, it would be entitled to little respect except from its striking correspondence with the general facts alluded to. This early statement is, that " at the time when Palestine was disturbed by the seditions of the Jews against the Romans, the apostles and disciples of Jesus Christ, scattering throughout the world, preached the gospel." All these facts are referred to ancient tradition ; and among the rest, on this authority, Andrew is mentioned as having received Scythia as his field of duty. The country thus named, lay on the farthest eastern border of the ancient Parthian and Persian empire, in the northern part of the great valley of the Indus, now occupied by the eastern part of Affghanistan or Cabul, and by the provinces of Cashmere and Lahore. This was the true Scythia of the ancients ; it was this region where the great Persian Cyrus lost his life, and where the conquering Alexander met his most determined and dangerous foes ; and all the most ancient accounts in the same decisive manner refer to this as the country properly and origi- nally called Scythia, though many who have assumed the task of settling ancient geography have absurdly applied the name to the ancient Sarmatia, corresponding to the modern Russia, west of the Caspian and Volga. The name Scythia was, by the later Greek and Roman geographers, extended to the vast regions north of Persia and India, and east of the Ural mountains and the Cas- pian sea, stretching over the range of Imaus to an unknown dis- tance north and east, occupying all Little Tartary, southwestern Siberia, and western Chinese Tartary. A later account of Andrew further particularizes the regions to which he went, as Sogdiana, now Bokhara, and the country of the Sacae, in little Tibet ; — a statement which, coinciding nearly as it does with the earlier ac- counts, deserves some credit. The earliest mention made of the apostle Andrew, by any writer whatever, after the evangelists, is by Origen, (about A. D. 230 or 240,) who speaks of him as having 292 , LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. been sent to the Scythians. (Cora, in Genes. 1. 3.) The passage is preserved only in Eusebius, (H. E. III. 1,) who barely quotes the circumstance from Origen, (A. D. 315.) Jerome (Script. Ecc.') quotes Sophroniiis, as saying that Andrew went also to the Sogdians snd Sacans. (A. D. 397.) Of all these traditions it may be said, that they are probable ; for if Andrew accompanied Peter to Babylon, the vast fields in- viting apostolic labor eastward would naturally attract his atten- tion, and claim the exertions of his remaining life. Of his suc- cess among them, nothing is known but the negative fact, that ages afterwards, when they were more fully brought under the know- ledge of the civilized world, they were heathens, without a dis- tinguishable trace of any better faith. HIS FABULOUS HISTORY. But such a simple conclusion to this apostle's life would by no means answer the purposes of the ancient writers on these mat- ters ; and accordingly the inquirer into apostolic history is presented with a long, long talk of Andrew's journey into Europe, through Greece and Thrace, where he is said to have founded many churches, undergone many labors, and performed many miracles, — £md at last to have been crucified in a city of Greece. The brief, but decided condemnation of all this imposition, however, is found in its absolute destitution of proof, or of truly ancient au- thority. Not the most antique particular of this tedious falsehood can be traced back to a date within three hundred and fifty years of the time of the pretended journey ; and the whole story, from beginning to end, was undoubtedly made up to answer the de- mands of a credulous age, when, after the triumphant diffusion of Christianity throughout the Roman empire, curiosity began to be greatly awakened about the founders of the faith, — a curiosity too deep to be satisfied with the meagre statements of the records of truth. Moreover, every province of Christendom, following the example of the metropolis, soon began to claim some one of the apostolic band, as having first preached the gospel in its territories ; and to substantiate these claims, it was necessary to produce a record, corresponding to the legend which at first floated about only in the mouths of the inventors and propagators. Accord- ingly, apocryphal gospels and histories were manufactured in vast numbers, to meet this new demand, detailing long series of apos- tolic labors and journeys, and commemorating martyrdoms in every civilized country under heaven, from Britain to India. Among these, the Grecian provinces must needs come in for their share of ANDREW. 293 apostolic honor ; and Andrew was therefore given up to them, as a founder and martyr. The numerous particulars of fictitious miracles and persecutions might be amusing, but cannot deserve a place in this work, to the exclusion of serious matters of fact. A cursory view of the fables, however, may be allowed, even by these contracted limits. A blunder of the fable-mongers, which creates great perplexity in the inquiry for true apostolic history, is the supposition that the Scythia to which Andrew went was in Europe, north of Macedonia and Thrace. There was indeed a narrow tract on the western shore of the Euxine, set- tled by a Scythian colony, and thence bearing this name ; but all the an- cient accounts show that this could not have been meant as the actual scene of Andrew's labors. However, this blunder seems to have given the hint for claiming that Andrew visited Greece and the countries north, Thrace and Epirus ; and the monkish writers have made out their story accord- ingly. His route is said to have been through Greece, Epirus, and then directly northwest into Scythia. Another later writer, however, makes a different track for him, leading from Palestine into Asia Minor, through Cappadocia, Galatia, and Bithynia ; — thence north through the country of the cannibals and to the wild wastes of Scythia; — thence south along the northern, western, and southern shores of the Black sea, to Byzantium, (now Constantinople,) and after some time, through Thrace, southwestvi^ards into Macedonia, Thessaly, and Achaia, in which last, his life and labors are said to have ended. By the same author, he is also in another passage said to have been driven from Byzantium by threats of persecution from Zeuzippus, king of Thrace, and therefore to have crossed over the Black sea to the city of Argyropolis, on its southern coast, where he preached two years, and constituted Stachys bishop of a church which he there founded ; and thence to Sinope, in Paphlagonia. Gregory Nazianzen (rat. 25) is the first who says that Andrew went to Greece. He flourished in A. D. 370, which is 140 years later than Origen, against whom his testimony is therefore worth nothing. Chrysostom (Homil. in xii. apost.) mentions the same story. Sophronius is also quoted by Jerome as adding something of this sort to the statements above given. Augustin (de fid. contra Manich.) is the first who brings in very much from tradition respecting Andrew ; and his stories are so nume- rous and entertaining in their particulars, as to show that, before his time, fiction had been most, busily at work with the apostles;— but the details are all of such a char- acter as not to deserve the slightest credit. The era of his writings, moreover, is so late, (A. D. 395,) that he, along with his contemporaries, Sophronius and Chrysostom, may be condemned as receivers of late traditions, and corrupters of the purity of his- torical as well as sacred truth. This story is from Nicephorus Callistus, a monk of the early part of the fourteenth century. (For an account of him and his writings, .see Lardner, Cred. Gos. Hist, chap. i65.) He wrote an ecclesiastical history of ihe period from the birth of Christ to the year 610, in which he has given a vast number of utterly fabulous stories, adopting all the fictions of earlier historians, and adding, as it would seem, some new ones. His ignorance and folly are so great, however, that he is not considered as any authority, even by the Papist writers; for on this very story of Andrew, even the credulous Baronius says — " Sed fide nutant haec, ob apertum mendacium de Zeu- zippo tyranno," &c. " These things are unworthy of credit, on account of the mani- fest lie about king Zeuzippus, because there was no king in Thrace at that time, the province being quietly ruled by a Roman president." (Baron. Ann. 44. § 31.) The story itself is in Niceph. Hist. Ecc. II. 39. So ronfn.sed are these various accounts, that in consequence of the numerous geo- 294 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. graphical errors of the modern narrators, I did not in the first edition snfficiently discriminate between the simple, unobjectionable statement of Origen, and the nume- rous fables appended to it by the later Fathers. The simple ascertaining of the true Scythia of the most ancient writers threw much light upon the difficulty, and show- ing the means of distinguishing ancient truth from modern falsehood, made it mani- fest at once that the story of Andrew's mission to Scythia, so far from being impro- bable, or inconsistent with what is known of the other apostles, was rendered in the highest degree reasonable and plausible, by the proximity of the true Scythia of the east to that empire in which Peter and the other Galileans are known to have lived after the removal from Palestine. (See Butler's Atlas of Ancient Geography, Map xiv.) But the later writers go beyond these unsatisfactory generalities, and enter into the most entertaining particulars, making out very interesting and romantic stories. The monkish apostolical novelists of the fifth cen- tury and later, have given a great number of stories about Andrew, incon- sistent with the earlier accounts, with each other, and with common sense. Indeed there is no great reason to think that they were meant to be be- lieved, but written very honestly as fictitious compositions, to gratify the taste of the antique novel readers. There is, therefore, really, no more ob- ligation resting on the biographer of the apostles to copy these fables, than on the historian of Scotland to transcribe the details of the romances of Scott, Porter, and others, though a mere allusion to them might occa- sionally be proper. The most serious and the least absurd of these fictions, is one which narrates that, after having received the grace of the Holy Spirit, by the gift of fiery tongues, he was sent to the Gentiles with an al- lotted field of duty. This was to go through Asia Minor, more especially the northern parts, Cappadocia, Galatia, and Bithynia. Having traversed these and other countries as above stated, he settled in Achaia, where, as in the other provinces, during a stay of many years, he preached divine dis- courses, and glorified the name of Christ by wonderful signs and prodigies. At length he was seized at Patras, in the northwestern part of Achaia, on the gulf of Lepanto, by Aegeas, the Roman proconsul of that province, and by him crucified, on the charge of having converted to Christianity, Maxi- milla, the wife, and Stratocles, the brother of the proconsul, so that they had learned to abhor that ruler's wickedness. The fabulous life of Andrew, full of most amusingly absurd tales, is found among the " apostolical stories" of a monk of the middle ages, who passed them off as true histories, written by Abdias, said to have been one of the seventy disciples sent out by Jesus, (Luke x. 1,) and to have been afterM'ards ordained bishop of Babylon, (by Simon Zelotes and Jude.) It is an imposition so palpable, however, in its absurdities, that it has always been condemned by the best authorities, both Protestant and Papist: as, Melancthoii, Bellarmin, Scultetus, Rivetus, the Magdeburg centnriators, Baro- nius, Chemnitius, Tillemont, Vossius, and Bayle, whose opinions and censures are most of them given in the preface to the work itself, by Job. Al. Fabricius, (Cod. apocr. N. T., part 2.) The story of Andrew is altogether the longest and best constructed, as well as the most interesting in the character of its incidents, of all contained in the book of the Pseudo- Abdias ; and I have therefore, in the first edition, made large extracts from them, by way of specimen of this class of fables ; but in the progress of the work it appeared that much valuable historical matter must be excluded in consequence oi the space which had been filled by this trash ; and this fabulous matter has therefore been much curtailed in the stereotype edition. Besides these fictions on Andrew's life, there are others, quoted as having been written in the same department. " The Passion of St. Andrew," a quite late apocry- phal story, professing to have been written by the elders and deacons of the churches of Achaia, was long extensively received by the Papists, as an authentic and valuable ANDREW. 295 book, and is quoted by the eloquent and venerable Bernardus, with the most profound respect. It abounds in long, tedious speeches, as well as painfully absurd incidents. The " Menaei," or Greek calendar of the saints, is also copious on this apostle, but is too modern to deserve any credit whatever. All the ancient fables and traditions were at last collected into a huge volume, by a Frenchman named Andrew de Saus- say, who, in 1656, published at Paris, (in Latin,) a book, entitled " Andrew, brother of Simon Peter, or, Twelve Books on the Glory of Saint Andrew, the Apostle." This book was afterwards abridged, or largely borrowed from, by John Florian Hammerschmid, in a treatise, (in Latin,) published at Prague, in 1699, entitled, — " Cnicisier Apostolicus," &c. — " The Apostolic Cross-bearer, or, St. Andrew, the Apostle, described and set forth, in his life, death, martyrdom, miracles, and dis- courses."— Baillet's Lives of the Saints, (in French,)also contains a full account of the most remarkable details of these fables. (Baillet. Vies de Saints, Vol. III. Nov. 30.) All these stories may, very possibly, have grown up from a beginning which was true ; that is, there may have been another Andrew, who, in a later age of the early times of Christianity, may have gone over those regions as a missionary, and met with somewhat similar adventures; and who was afterwards confounded with the apostle Andrew. The Scotch, for some reason or other, formerly adopted Andrew as their national saint, and represent him on a cross of a peculiar shape, resembling the letter X, known in heraldry by the name of a saltier, and borne on the collar and jewel of the Scottish order of the Thistle, to this day. This idea of his cross, how- ever, has originated since the beginning of the twelfth century, as I shall show by a passage from Bernard. The truly holy Bernard, (Abbot of Clairvaux, in France, A. D. 1112,) better wor- thy of the title of Saint than ninety-nine himdredths of all the canonized who lived before him, even from apostolic days, — has, among his splendid sermons, three most eloquent discourses, preached in his abbey church, on St. Andrew's day, in which he alludes to the actions of this apostle, as recorded in the " Passion of St. Andrew," — a book which he seems to quote as worthy of credit. In Latin of Ciceronian purity, he has given some noble specimens of a pulpit eloquence, rarely equaled in any modern language, and such as seldom blesses the ears of the hearers of these days. All the passages here quoted may be foimd by those who can enjoy the original, in his works. (Divi Bernardi Opera Omnia. Ed. Joh. Picard. Antwerp, 1609, folio ; columns 322—333.) He begins his first discourse on this subject with saying, that in " celebrating the glorious triumphs of the blessed Andrew, they had that day been delighted with the words of grace, that proceeded out of his mouth ;"— (doubtless in hearing the story of the crucifixion read from the fictitious book of the Passion of St. Andrew, which all supposed to be authentic.) " For there was no room for sorrow, where he himself was so intensely rejoiced. No one of us mourned for him in his suflferings; for no one dared to weep over him, while he was thus exulting. So that he might most appropriately say to us, what the cross-bearing Redeemer said to those who followed him with mourning, — ' Weep not for me; but weep for yourselves.' And when the blessed Andrew himself was led to the cross, and the people, grieving for the unjust condemnation of the holy and just man, would have prevented his exe- cution,— he, with the most urgent prayer, forbade them from depriving him of his crown of suffering. For ' he desired indeed to be released, and to be with Christ,'— but on the cross ; he desired to enter the kingdom, — but by the door. Even as he said to that loved form, ' that by thee He may receive me, who by thee has redeemed me.' Therefore if we love him, we shall rejoice with him ; not only because he was crowned, but because he was crucified." (A bad and unscriptural aoctrine ! for no apostle ever taught, or was taught, that it was worth while for any man to be crucifi- ed, when he could well help it.) In his second sermon on the same subject, the animated Bernard remarks further- more, in comment on the behavior of Andrew, when coming in sight of his cross, — " You have certainly heard how the blessed Andrew was stayed on the Lord, when he came to the place where the cross was made ready for him, — and how, by the spirit which he had received along with the other apostles, in the fiery tongues, he spoke truly fiery words. And so, seeing from afar the cross prepared, he did not turn pale, though mortal weakness might seem to demand it; his blood did not freeze, — his hair did not rise,— his voice did not cleave to his throat, (non stetere comae, aut vox fauci- bus haesit.) Out of the abundance of his heart, his mouth did speak; and the deep love which gloVed in his heart, sent forth the words like burning sparks. For what did the blessed Andrew say, when he saw from a distance the cross prepared for him 7—' O cross ! long desired ! and prepared for a willing soul. Confident and 296 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. rejoicing I come to thee ; and so do thou also with exultation bear me the disciple oi him who hung on thee; because I have always been thy lover, and have desired to embrace thee.' I beseech you, brethren, say, is this a man who speaks thus 1 Is it not an angel, or some new creature 1 No : it is merely ' a man of like passions with ourselves.' For the very agony itself, in whose approach he thus rejoiced, proves him to have been ' a man of passion.' Whence, then, in man, this new exultation, and joy before unheard of? Whence, in man, a mind so spiritual, — a love so fervent, — a courage so strong"? Far would it be from the apostle himself, to wish that we should give the glory of such grace to him. It is the ' perfect gift, coming down from the Father of Lights,' — from him, ' who alone does wondrous things.' It was, dearly beloved, plainly, ' the spirit which helpeth our infirmities,' by which was shed abroad in his heart, a love, strong as death, — yea, and stronger than death. Of which, O, may we too be found partakers !" The preacher then goes on with the practical application of the view of these suf- ferings, and the spirit that sustained them, to the circumstances of his hearers. After some discourse to this effect, he exhorts them to seek this spirit. " Seek it, then, dearest ! seek it without ceasing, — seek it without doubting ; — in all your works in- voke the aid of this spirit. For we also, my brethren, with the blessed Andrew, must needs take up our cross, — yea, with that Savior-Lord whom he followed. For, in this he rejoiced, — in this he exulted; — because not only for him, but with him, he would seem to die, and be planted, so ' that suffering with him, he might also reign with him.' With whom, that we may also be crucified, let us hear more attentively with the ears of our hearts, the voice of him who says, ' He who will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.' As if he said, ' Let him who desires me, despise himself; let him who would do my will, learn to break his own.' " Bernard then draws a minute parallel, more curious than admirable, between the cross and the trials of life, — likening the four difficulties in the way of holiness, to the four ends of the cross ; bodily fear being the foot-piece ; open assaults and temp- tations, the right arm-piece ; secret sins and trials, the left hand-piece ; and spiritual pride, the head-piece. Or, as he briefly recapitulates, the four virtues attached to the lour horns of the cross, are these : — continence, patience, prudence, and humility. A truly forcible figure, and one not without its effect, doubtless, on the hearers. This arrangement of the cross, moreover, seems to prove, that in the lime of Bernard, the idle story about Andrew's cross being shaped like the letter X, was entirely un known , for it is evident that the whole point of the allusion here consists in the hearers sup- posing that Andrew was crucified on a cross of the common shape, — upright, with a transverse bar and bead-piece. Natalis Alexander also (Historia Ecclesiastica. Saecul. I. cap. i. § 3, p. 29) affords additional evidence of the modern character of this idle invention. He says — " Crux quae martyrii ejus instrumentum fuit, in Coe- nobio Massiliensi S. Victoris dicitur asservari, ejusdem figurae cum Dominica cruce." — "The cross which was the instrument of Andrew's martyrdom, is said to be preserved in the convent of St. Victor, at Marseilles, and to be of the same shape with the cross of the Lord." This is also indeed an idle tale; but it serves to show that the notion of Andrew's cross being a saltier, is quite modern. In conclusion of all this fabulous detail, may be appropriately quoted the closing passage of the second discourse of Bernard, the spirit of which, though coming from a Papist, is not discordant with the noblest essential principles of truly catholic Chris- tianity, seldom, indeed, found so pure in the Romish church, as in this " Last of the Fathers," as he has been justly styled. And so accordant are these words with the spirit which it becomes this work to inculcate, that I may well adopt them into the text, glad to hang a moral to the end of so much falsehood, though drawn from such a theme, that it seems like " gathering grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles." Bernard has in this part of his discourse been completing all the details of his parallel between the cross and the Christian's life, and in this conclusion, thus crowns the simile, by exhorting his saintly hearers to cling, each to his own cross, in spite of all temptation to renounce it; that is, to persevere in daily crucifying their sins, by a pure deportment through life. " Happy the soul that glories and triumphs on this cross, if it only persevere, and do not let itself be cast down in its trials. Let every one then, who is on this cross, like the blessed Andrew, pray his Lord and Master not to let him be taken down from it. For what is there which the malign adversary will not dare* what will he not impiously presume to try 1 For what he thought to do to the disciple by the hands of Aegeas, the same he once thought to do to the Master by the scornful tongues of ANDREW. 297 • Siw 7 '^ .""^^^ instance alike, however, driven by too late experience of his folly, he departed vanquished and confounded. O may he in like manner dln^rt from us conquered by Him who triumphed over him bv Himself and b/nSlS w^ '.h ^Y «\^^"«^. '^l' ^^« also niay attain the same hapTy end on the crossS which we have borne, each one in his own peculiar trials, for lie gloTv Jf ffis nar^« who IS God over all, blessed for ever.' " , » uic giory oi tus name JAMES BOANERGES; THE SON OF ZEBEDEE. HIS RANK AND CHARACTER. Whatever may have been the peculiar excellences of this apostle's character, as recognized by the searching eye of Him who knew the hearts of all men, the early close of his high career has prevented the full development of energies, that might, in the course of a longer life, have been made as fruitful in works of wonder and praise, as those of the other members of the elect TRIO, his friend and his younger brother ; and his later years, thus prolonged, might have left similar recorded testimonies of his apos- tolic zeal. Much, too, that truly concerns his brief life, is swal- lowed up in the long narrative of the eminent chief of the twelve, whose superiority was on all occasions so distinctly marked by Jesus, that he never imparted to this apostle any exalted favor in which Peter did not also share, and in the record of which his name is not mentioned first. In the first call, — in the raising of the daughter of Jairus to life, — at the transfiguration, — and on the apostolic roll, — James is uniformly placed after Peter ; and such, too, was the superior activity and talkative disposition of Peter, that whenever and wherever there was any thing to be said, he was always the first to say it, — cutting off the sons of Zebedee from the opportunity, if they had the disposition, to make them- selves more prominent. Yet the sons of Zebedee are not entirely unnoticed in the apostolic history, and even the early-martyred James may be said to have a character quite decidedly marked, in those few passages in the sacred record, where facts concerning him are commemorated. In the apostolic list given by Mark, it is moreover mentioned, that he with his brother had received a name from Jesus Christ, which being given to them by him, doubtless with a decided reference to their characters, serves as a valuable means of ascertaining their leading traits. The name of " Boan- erges,"— " sons of thunder," seems to imply a degree of decided boldness and a fiery energy, not exactly accordant with the usual JAMES BOANERGES. 299 opinions of the characters of the sons of Zebedee ; but it is an expression in the most perfect harmony with the few details of the conduct of both, which are given in the New Testament. Boanerges. — This word is one whose composition and derivation (as is the case with many other New Testament proper names) have caused great discussion and difference of opinion among the learned. It occurs only in Mark iii. 17, where it is incidentally mentioned in the list of the apostles, as a new name given to the sons of Zebedee by Jesus. Those who are curious, can find all the discussion in any cri- tical commentator on the passage. Poole's Synopsis, in one heavy folio columi\ and half of another, gjves a complete view of all the facts and speculations concerning this matter, up to his time; the amount of all which, seems to be, that, as the word now stands, it very nearly sets all etymologies at defiance, — whether Hebrew, Sy- riac, Chaldee, or Arabic, — since it is impossible to say how the word should be re- solved into two parts, one of which should mean " sons," and the other " thunder ;" so that it is well for us we have Mark's explanation of the name, since without it, the critics would probably have never found either " son" or " thunder" in the word. As to the reason of the names being appropriated to James and John, conjectures equally numerous and various may be found in the same learned work ; but all equally unsatisfactory. Lampe also is very full on this point. (Prol. in Joh. cap. I. lib. ii. §§ 9—15.) HIS FAMILY AND CALL. Of the first introduction of this apostle to Jesus, it may be rea- sonably conjectured, that he formed an acquaintance with him at the same time with his brother John and the sons of Jonah, as already commemorated in their former lives, from the brief record in the first chapter of John's gospel. After this, he and his brother, as well as Peter and Andrew, returned quietly to their honest bu- siness of fishing on the lake of Gennesaret, on whose shore, no doubt, was their home, — perhaps, too, in Bethsaida or Capernaum, as their intimacy and fellowship with the sons of Jonah would seem to imply a vicinity of residence ; though their common occu- pation might bring them frequently together in circumstances where friendly assistance was mutually needed ; and the idea of their residence in some other of the numerous villages along the northern end of the lake, on either side, is not inconsistent with any circumstance specified in their history. In their occupation of fishing, they were accompanied by rtieir father Zebedee, who, it seems, was not so far advanced in years as to be unable to aid his sons in this very laborious and dangerous business ; which makes it quite apparent that James and John being the sons of so active a man, must themselves have but just attained manhood, at the time when they are first mentioned. Respecting the charac- ter of this active old fisherman, unfortunately very few data in- deed are preserved ; and the vagueness of the impression made by his name, though so often repeated in connexion with his sons, may be best conceived by reference to that deeply enigmatical 300 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. question, with which grave persons of mature age are sometimes wont to puzzle the inquisitive minds of young aspirants after Bibli- cal knowledge, — " Who was the father of Zebedee's children ?" — a query which certainly implies a great deficiency of important facts, on which the curious learner could found a definite idea of this somewhat distinguished character. Indeed " the mother of Zebe- dee's children" seems to possess in the minds of most readers of the gospels a much more prominent place than " the father of them ;" for the simple occasion on which she presents herself to notice, is of such a nature as to show that she was the parent from whom the sons inherited at least one prominent trait, — that of high, aspiring ambition, with which, in them as well as in her, was joined a most decidedly comfortable degree of self-esteem, that would not allow them to suspect that other people could be at all behind them in appreciating those talents, which, in their own opinion, and their fond mother's, showed that they "were born to command." Indeed it appears manifest, that there was much moi^ " thunder" in her composition, than in her husband's ; and it is but fair to suppose, from the decided way in which she put her- self forward in the family affairs, on at least one important occa- sion, without any pretension whatever on his part, to any right of interference or decision, that she must have been in the habit of having her own way in most matters ; — a peculiar prominence in the domestic administration, very naturally resulting from the cir- cumstance, that her husband's frequent, long absences from home, on his business, must have left the responsibilities of the family often upon her alone ; and the boldness which characterized her conduct was a trait naturally developed by the responsibilities and independence of such a situation. If the supposition may be adopted, however, that Zebedee died soon after the call of his sons, the silence of the sqpred record respecting him is easily accounted for ; and the journeys of Salome with her sons in the pilgrimages of Jesus add probability to this suggestion. Sprung from such parents, and brought up by them on the shores and waters of Gennesaret, James had learned the humbfe business of his father, and was quietly devoting himself to the labors of a fisherman, probably never dreaming of an occasion that should ever call forth the slumbering energies in " thunder," or hold up before his awakened ambition, the honors of a name that should outlast the wreck of kingdoms, and of the brightest glories of that age. But on the morning, when the sons of Jonah re- JAMES BOANERGES. 301 ceived the high call and commission to become " fishers of men," James and his brother, too, — at the solemn command, " Follow me," — laid down their nets, and left the low labors and amuse- ments of the fishing, to their father, who toiled on with his ser- vants, while his sons went forth through Galilee, following him who had called them to a far higher vocation. No acts wliatever are commemorated, as performed by them in this first pilgrimage ; and it was not until after their return from the north of Galilee, and the beginning of their journey to Jerusalem, that the occasion arose, when their striking family trait of ambition was most re- markably brought out. HIS AMBITIOUS CLAIMS. Their intellectual and moral qualities being of a comparatively high order, had already attracted the very favorable attention of Jesus, during the first journey through Galilee ; and they had al- ready, on at least two occasions, received most distinguishing marks of his regard, — they alone of all the twelve, sharing in the honor of being present with Peter at the raising of the daughter of Jairus, and being still more highly favored by the view of the solemn events of the night of the transfiguration, amid the thunders of Hermon. On that occasion, the terrors of the scene overcame even their aspiring souls ; and when the cloud burst over them, they both sunk to the earth, in speechless dread, along with Peter, too, who had previously manifested so much greater self-command than they, in daring to address, in complacent words, the awful forms before them ; while they remained silent with terror at a phenomenon for which their views of their Master's character had but poorly prepared them. From all these prostrating terrors they had since, however, fully recovered, and were now completely re- stored to their former confidence in themselves, and were still rooted in their old views of the Messiah's earthly glories, — in this particular, however, only sharing the common error of the whole twelve. In this state of mind, looking upon Jesus Christ only as an ambitious man, of powerful mind, vast knowledge, divine con- secration, and miraculous gifts, which fitted him for the subversion of the Roman dominion, and the erection of a kingdom of his own, — their thoughts were all the while running on the division of the spoils and honors, which would be the reward of the chief followers of the conqueror ; and in this state of mind, they were prepared to pervert all the declarations of Jesus, so as to make 302 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. them harmonize with their own hopes and notions. While on this journey southward, to Jerusalem, after they had passed into the eastern sections of Judea, beyond the Jordan, Jesus was one day, in answer to an inquiry from Peter, promising his disciples a liigh reward for the sacrifices they had made in his service ; and as- suring them, that in return for houses or lands, or relatives or friends, left for his name's sake, they should all receive a return, a hundred-fold greater than the loss. Especially were their fancies struck by a vivid picture, which he represented to their minds, of the high rewards accruing to all the twelve, declaring that after the completion of the change which he was working, and when he had taken his own imperial throne, they should sit around him on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. Here was a prospect, enough to satisfy the most aspiring ambition ; but along with the hopes now awakened, arose also some queries about the preference of places in this throned triumph, which were not easily settled so as to satisfy all at once. In the proposed arrangement, it was perfectly evident, that of the whole circle of thrones, by far the most honorable locations would be those immediately on the right and left of the Messiah-king ; and their low ambition set them at once contriving how to get these pre-eminent places for them- selves. Of all the apostolic band, none could so fairly claim the right hand throne as Peter ; already pronounced the Rock on which the church should be founded, and commissioned as the keeper of the keys of the kingdom. But Peter's devotion to his Master seems to have been of too pure a character, to let him give any thought to the mere rewards of the victory, so long as he could feel sure of the full return of that burning affection to his Lord, with which his own ardent soul glowed ; and he left it to others to settle points of precedence and the division of rewards. On no occasion throughout his whole life, is there recorded any evidence of the slightest disposition to claim the mere honors of a pre- eminence, though his superior force of character made the whole band instinctively look to him for guidance, in all times of trouble and danger, after the ascension. His modest, confiding, disinter- ested affection for his Master, indeed, was the main ground of all the high distinctions conferred on him so unsparingly by Jesus, who would have been very slow to honor thus, one who was dis- posed to grow proud or overbearing under the possession of tliese favors. But this very character of modesty and uncalculating af- fection, gave occasion also to the other disciples, to push themselves JAMES BOANERGES. 303 forward for a claim to those peculiar exaltations, which his indif- ference to personal advancement seemed to leave unoccupied, for the more ambitious to assume. In this instance, particularly, James and John were so far moved with the desire of the enviable distinction of this primacy, that they made it a matter of family consultation, and accordingly brought the case before their fondly ambitious mother, who instantly determined that the great object should be achieved before any one else could secure the chance for the place ; and resolved to use her influence in favor of her darling sons. On the first favorable opportunity she therefore went with them to Jesus ; and, as it would appear by the combina- tion of the accounts of Matthew and Mark, both she and they pre- sented the request at once and together, — James and John, however, prefacing the declaration of their exact purpose by a general peti- tion for unlimited favor, — " Master, we would that thou shouldst do for us whatever we desire ?" To this modest petition, Jesus replied by asking, — " What would ye that I should grant ?" They, with their mother, falling down at his feet in fawning, selfish wor- ship, then urged their grand request : — " Grant," said the ambitious Salome, "that these my two sons may sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on thy left, when thou reignest in thy glory." Jesus, fully appreciating the miserable state of selfish ignorance which inspired the hope and the question, in order to show them their ignorance, and to make them express their minds more fully, assured them that they knew not the meaning of their own request, and asked them whether they were able to drink of the cup that he should drink of, and be baptized with the baptism that he should be baptized with ? With unhesitating self-conceit, they answered, — " We are able." But Jesus replied in such a tone as to check all further solicitation of this kind from them, or from any other ot his hearers. " Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with ; but to sit on my right hand and on my left, is not mine to give ; but it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared by my father." — " The cup of sor- row, and suffering, and agony, — the baptism of spirit, fire, and blood, — of these you shall all drink in a solemn and mournful re- ality, which you are now far from conceiving ; but the high places of the kingdom which I come to found, are not to be disposed of to those who think to forestall my personal favor ; they are for the blessed of my Father, who, in the time appointed in his own good pleasure, will give it to them, in the end of days." The disap- 304 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. pointed family of Zebedee retired, quite confounded with the rejec- tion of their petition, and with th§ darkly told prophecy that accom- panied it, dooming them to some mysterious fate, of which they could form no idea whatever. The rest of the twelve, hearing of the ambitious attempt of the sons of Zebedee to secure the suprema- cy by a secret movement and by family influence, were moved with great indignation against the intriguing aspirants, and ex- pressed their displeasure so decidedly, that Jesus called them around him, to improve this manifestation of folly and passion to their advantage ; and said, — " You know that the nations are gov- erned by princes and lords, and that none exercise authority over them but the great ones of the land. Now it shall not be so among you ; but he who will be great among you, must be your servant ; and he who shall be your chief, shall be the slave of all the rest. For even the Son of Man himself came not to make others his slaves, but to be himself a slave to many, and even to sacrifice his life in their service." Salome. — The reason for the supposition that this was really the name of the mother of James, consists in the comparison of two corresponding passages of Matthew and Mark. In Matt, xxvii. 56. it is said that among the women present at the crucifix- ion, were " Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children." In the parallel passage, Mark xv. 40, they are mentioned as " Mary Mag- dalene, Mary, the mother of James and Joses, and Salovie." In Mark xvi. 1, Salome is also mentioned among those who went to the sepulchre. This is not proof posi- tive, but it is reasonable ground for the supposition, more especially as Matthew never mentions Salome by name, but repeatedly speaks of " the mother of Zebedee's children." If, as is probable then, Salome and the mother of Zebedee's children were identical, it is also reasonable to suppose, as Lampe does, that Zebedee himself may have died soon after the time when the call of his sons took place. For Salome could hardly have left her husband and family, to go, as she did, with Jesus on his journeys, minis- tering to his necessities;— but if her husband was really dead, she would have l)ut few ties to confine her at home, and would therefore very naturally be led, by her mater- nal affection and anxiety for her sons, to accompany them in their wandering life. The supposition of Zebedee's death is also justified by the circumstance that John is spoken of in his own gospel, (John xix. 27,) as possessing a house of " his own," which seems to imply the death of his father ; since so young a man would hardly have ac- quired property, except by inheritance. Thus he laid out before them all the indispensable qualities of the man who aspired to the dangerous, painful, and unenviable primacy among them, — humility, meekness, and laborious indus try. But vain were all the earnest teachings of his divine spirit Schemes and hopes of worldly eminence and imperial dominion, were too deeply rooted in their hearts, to be displaced by this oft- repeated view of the labors and trials of his service. Already, on a former occasion, too, had he tried to impress them with the true spirit of the apostleship. When on the way to Capernaum, at the close of this journey through Galilee, they had disputed among JAMES BOANERGES. 305 tiliemselves on the question, which of them should be the prime minister of their Messiah-king, when he had estabhshed his heav- enly reign in all the dominions of his father David. On their meeting Avith him in the house at Capernaum, he brought up this point of difference. Setting a little child before them, (probably- one of Peter's children, as it was in his house,) and taking the little innocent into his arms, he assured them that unless they should become utterly changed in disposition and in hope, and be- come like that little child in simplicity of character, they should have no share whatever in the glories of that kingdom which was to them an object of so many ambitious aspirations. But neither this charge, nor the repetition of it, could yet avail to work that necessary change in their feelings. Still they lived on in the vain and selfish hope, scheming for personal aggrandizement, till the progress of events bringing calamity and trial upon them, had purified their hearts, and fully fitted them for the duties of the great office to which they had so unthinkingly devoted themselves. Then, indeed, did the aspiring James receive, in a deeper sense than he had ever dreamed of, the reward for which he now longed and begged ; — drinking first of the cup of agony, and baptized first in blood, he ascended first to the place on the right hand of tlte Messiah in his eternal kingdom. But years of toil and sorrow, seen and felt, were his preparation for this glorious crown. James has also been made the subject of a long series of fables, though the early termination of his apostolic career would seem to leave no room whatever, for the insertion of any very great journeys and labors upon the authentic history. But the Spaniards, in the general rage for claiming some apostle as a national patron saint, long ago got up the most absurd fiction, that James, the son of Zebedee, during the periodintervening between Christ's ascension and his own execution at Jerusalem, actually performed a voyage over the whole length of the Mediterranean, into Spain, where he remained several years, preaching, founding churches, and performing miracles, and returned to Jerusalem in time for the occurrence of the concludiiig event, as recorded in the twelfth chapter of Acts. This story probably originated in the same manner as that suggested to account for the fables about Andrew ; that is — that some preacher of Christianity, of this name, in a later age, actually did travel into Spain, there preaching the gospel, and founding chiirches ; and that his name being deservedly remembered, was, in the progress of the corruptions of the truth, confounded with that of the apostle James, son of Zebedee, — this James being se- lected rather than the son of Alpheus, because the latter had already been established by tradition, as the hero of a story quite inconsistent with any Spanish journey, and being also less dignified by the Savior's notice. Be that as it may. Saint James (Santo Jago) is to this day esteemed the patron saint of Spain, and his tomb is shown in Compostella, in that kingdom ; for they will have it, that, after his decapitation by Herod Agrippa, his body was brought all the way over the sea, to Spain, and there buried in the scene of his toils and miracles. A Spanish order of knighthood, that of St. Jago de Composiella, takes its name from this notion. The old romancer, Abdias Babylonius, who is so rich in stories about Andrew, has much to tell about James, and enters at great length into the details of his execution; crowning the whole with the idle story, that when he was led to death, his accuser, Josiah, a Pharisee, suddenly repenting, begged his forgiveness, and professed his 306 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. faith in Christ, — for which he also was beheaded along with him, after being baptized by James in some water that was handed to him by the executioner, in a calabash. (Abd. Babylon. Hist. Apost. IV. § 9.) From the time of this event, there occurs no mention whatever of any act of James, until the commemoration of the occasion of his exit ; and even this tragic circumstance is mentioned so briefly, that nothing can be learned but the mere fact and manner of his death. On the occasion fully described above, in the life of Peter, Herod Agrippa I. seized this apostle, and at once put him to death by the executioner's sword. The particular grounds on which this act of bloody cruelty was justified by the tyrant and his friends, are wholly unknown. Probably there was a pretense at a set ac- cusation of some crime, which would make the act appear less atrocious at the time, than appears from Luke's silence as to the grounds of the proceeding. The remarkable prominence of James, however, was enough to ofler a motive to the popularity-seeking Agrippa, whose main object being to " please the Jews," led him to seize those who had most displeased them, by laboring for the advancement of the Nazarene heresy. And that this actually was his governing principle in selecting his victims, is made further apparent by the circumstance that Peter, the great chief of the betnd, was next marked for destruction. Though no particular acts of James are recorded as having made him prominently ob- noxious to the Jews, yet there is every reason to believe, that the exalted ardor and now chastened ambition of the Son of Thunder, had made him often the bold assaulter of sophistry and hypocrisy, — a heroism which at once sealed his doom, and crowned him with the glory of THE APOSTOLIC PROTOMARTYR. JOHN; THE SON OF ZEBEDEE. HIS CHARACTER. This other son of Zebedee, and of "thundei,' whenever any description of the apostles has been given, has been by most reli- gious writers generally characterized as a mild, amiable person, and is thus figured in strong contrast with the bold and ardent spirit of Peter, The circumstance that he is described as " the disciple whom Jesus loved," has doubtless done much to cause the almost universal impression which has prevailed, as to the meekness of his disposition. But this is certainly without just reason ; for there is no ground for supposing that any peculiar softness was essential to the formation of the character for which the Redeemer could feel a strong affection. On the contrary, the almost univer- sal behavior of the apostolic band, seems to show that the natural characteristics which he marked as betraying in them the deeper qualities that would best fit them for his service, and qualify them as the sharers of his intimate instruction and affection, were more decidedly of the stern and fiery order, than of the meek and gentle. Nor is there any circumstance recorded of John, whether authentic or fabulous, that can justify the supposition that he was an excep- tion to these general, natural characteristics of the apostles ; but instances sufficiently numerous are given in the gospels, to make it clear, that he was not altogether the soft and gentle creature, that has been commonly presented as his true image. It has been commonly supposed that he was the youngest of all the apostles ; nor is there any reason to disbelieve an opinion har- monizing, as this does, with all that is recorded of him in the New Testament, as well as with the undivided voice of all tradition. That he was younger than James, may be reasonably concluded from the circumstance that he is always mentioned after him, though his importance in the history of the foundation of the Christian faith, might seem to justify an inversion of this order ; and in the life of James, it has already been represented as proba- 308 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. ble, that he too must have been quite young, being the son of a father who was still so much in the freshness of his vigor, as to endure the toils of a peculiarly laborious and dangerous business. On this point, also, the opinion even of tradition is entitled to some respect, on the ground taken by an author quoted in the life of Peter, — that thouofh we consider tradition as a notorious liar, yet we may give some attention to its reports, because even a liar may sometimes speak the truth, where he has no object in deceiving us. Tlu: youngest of the disciples.— AM that can be said on this opinion is, that it is pos- sible ; and if the testimony of the later Fathers were worth much consideration on any historical question concerning the apostles, it might be called even probable; bat no early writer alludes to his age at all, till Jerome, who very decidedly calls John " the youngest of all the apostles." Several later Fathers make the same assertion, but the voice of antiquity has already been shown to be worth very little, when it is not heard within three centuries of the events on which it offers its testimony. But at any rate, the assertion of John's juniority is not improbable. A great deal of violent discussion has been lavished on the almost equally impor- tant question, whether John was ever married. The earliest established testimony on this point is that of TertuUian, who numbers John among those who had restrained themselves from matrimony for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Testimony as late as the third century, however, and especially by an ascetic Montanist, as Ter- tuUian was, on an opinion which favored monastic views, is worth nothing. But on the strength of this, many Fathers have made great use of John, as an instance of celibacy, accordant with monastic principles. Epiphanius, Jerome, and Augustin, allude frequently to the circumstance ; the latter Father in particular insisting that John was engaged to be married when he was called, but gave up the lady, to follow Jesus. Some ingenious modern theologians have even improved upon this so far as to maintain that the marriage in Cana of Galilee was that of John, but that he imme- diately left his wife afler the miracle. (See Lampe, Prolegom. I. i. 13, notes.) Jerome has a great deal to say also, about the age of John at the time when he was called, arguing that he must have been a mere boy at the time, because tradition as- serts that he lived till the reign of Trajan. Lampe very justly objects, however, that this proof amounts to nothing, if we accept another common tradition, that he lived to the age of 100 years; which, if we count back a century from the reign of Trajan, would require him to have attained mature age at the time of the call. Neither tra- dition, however, is worth much. Our old friend Baronius, too, comes in to enlighten the investigation of John's age, by what he considers indubitable evidence. He says that John was in his twenty-second year when he was called, and passing three years with Christ, must have been twenty-five years old at the time of the crucifixion; "be- cause," says the sagacious Baronius, " he was then initiated into the priesthood." An assertion which Lampe with indignant surprise stigmatizes as showing " remarkable boldness," (insignis audacia,) because it contains two very gross errors, — first, in pre- tending that John was ever made a priest, (sacerdos,) and secondly, in confounding the age required of the Levites with that of the priests when initiated. For Baroni- ns's argument resting wholly on the very strange and unfounded notion, that John ■was made a priest, is furthermore supported on the idea that the prescribed age for entering the priestliood was twenty-five years ; but in reality, the age thus required was thirty years, so that if the other part of this idle story was true, this would be enough to overthrow the conclusion. Lampe also alludes to the absurd idea of the painters, in representing John as a young man, even while writing his gospel ; while in reality all writers agree that that work was written by him in his old age. This idea of his perpetual youth, once led into a blunder some foolish Benedictine monks, who found in Constantinople an antique agate intaglio, representing a young man with a cornucopia, and an eagle, and with a figure of Victory placing a crown on his head. This struck their monkish fancies at once, as an unquestionable portrait of John, sent to their hands by a miraculous preservation. Examination, however, has shown it lo be a representation of the apotneosis of Germanicus. OHN. 309 HIS FAMILY AND BUSINESS. The authentic history of the hfe of this apostle must also ne- cessarily be very brief; most of the prominent incidents v/hich concern him having already been abundantly described in the preceding lives. But there are particulars which have not been so fully entered into, some of which concern this apostle exclu- sively, while in others he is mentioned only in conjunction with his brother and friends ; and many of these may, with propriety, be more fully given in this life, since his eminence, his writings, and long protracted labors, make him a proper subject for a minute disquisition. Being the son of Zebedee and Salome, as has already been men- tioned in the life of his brother, he shared in the low fortunes and laborious life of a fisherman, on the lake of Gennesaret. This oc- cupation, indeed, did not necessarily imply the very lowest rank in society, as is evident from the fact that the Jews held no useful occupation to be beneath the dignity of a respectable person, or even a learned man. Still, the nature of their business was such as to render it improbable that they had adopted it with any other view than that of maintaining themselves by it, or of enlarging their property, though perhaps not of earning a support which they had no other means whatever of procuring. It has been said, that doubtless there were many other inhabitants of the shores of the lake, who occasionally occupied themselves in fishing, and yet were by no means obliged to employ themselves constantly in that vo- cation. But the brief statement of circumstances in the gospels is enough to show that such an equipage of boats and nets, and such steady employment all night, were not indicative of any thing else than a regular devotion of time to it, in the way of business. Yet, that Zebedee was not a man in very low circumstances, as to property, is quite manifest from Mark's statement, that when they were called, they left their father in the vessel, along with the " servants," or workmen, — which implies that they carried on their fishing operations on so extended a scale as to have a number of men in their service, and probably had a vessel of considerable size, since it needed such a plurality of hands to manage it, an^ use the apparatus of the business to advantage ; a circumstance in which their condition seems to have been somewhat superior to that of Peter and Andrew, of whom no such particulars are specified, — all accounts representing them as alone, in a small ves- Sio LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. sel, which they were able to manage of themselves. The posses- sion of some family estate is also implied, in numerous incidental allusions in the gospels ; as in the fact that their mother Salome was one of those women who followed Jesus, and ''ministered to him of their substance" or possessions. She is also specified among those women who brought precious spices for embalming the body of Jesus. John is also mentioned in his own gospel, as having a house of his own, in which he generously supported the mother of Jesus, as if he himself had been her son, throughout the remainder of her life ; an act of friendly and pious kindness to which he would not have been competent, without the possession of some property in addition to the house. HIS EDUCATION. There is reason to suppose, that in accordance with the estab- lished principles of parental duty among the Jews, he had learned the rudiments of the knowledge of the Mosaic law ; for a prover- bial sentence of the religious teachers of the nation, ranked among the vilest of mankind, that Jew, who suffered a son to grow up without being educated in the first principles, at least, of his na- tional religion. But that his knowledge, at the time when he first became a disciple of Jesus, extended beyond a barely respectable degree of information on religious matters, there is no ground for believing ; and though there is nothing which directly contradicts the idea that he may have known the alphabet, or have made some trifling advances in literary knowledge, — yet the manner in which he, together with Peter, was spoken of by the proud members of the Sanhedrim, seems to imply that they did not pretend to any knowledge whatever of literature. And the terms in which both Jesus and his disciples are constantly alluded to by the learned scribes and Pharisees, seem to show that they were all considered as utterly destitute of literary education, though, by reason of that very ignorance, they were objects of the greatest wonder to all who saw their striking displays of a religious knowledge, utterly unaccountable by a reference to any thing that was known of their means of arriving at such intellectual eminence. Indeed, there ^ems to have been a distinct design on the part of Christ, to select for his great purpose, men whose minds were wholly free from that pride of opinion and learned arrogance, almost inseparable from the constitutions of those who had been regularly trained in the subtleties of a slavish system of theology and law. He did not JOHN. 311 seek among the trained and drilled scholars of the formal routine of Jewish dogmatism, for the instruments of regenerating a people and a world, — but among the bold, active, and intelligent, yet un- educated Galileans, whose provincial peculiarities and rudeness, moreover, in a high degreei incapacitated them from taking rank among the polished scholars of the Jewish capital. Thus was it, that on the followers of Christ could never be put the stigma of mere theological disputants ; and all the gifts of knowledge, and the graces of mental power, which they displayed under his divine teachings, were totally free from the slightest suspicion of any other than a miraculous origin. Some have, indeed, attempted to con- jecture, from the alleged elegance of John's style in his gospel and epistles, that he had early received a finished education, in some one of the provincial Jewish colleges, and have even gone so far as to suggest, that probably Jairus, " the ruler of the synagogue" in Capernaum, or more properly, " the head of the school of the law," had been his instructor, — a guess of most remarkable pro- fundity, but one that, besides lacking all sort of evidence or pro- bability, is furthermore made totally unnecessary, by the indu- bitable fact, that no signs of any such perfection of style are noticeable in any of the writings of John, so as to require any elaborate hypothesis of this kind to explain them. The greatest probability is, that all his knowledge, both of Hebrew literature and the Greek language, was acquired after the beginning of his apostolic course. HIS NAME. The Jews were accustomed, like most of the ancient nations of the east, to confer upon their children significant names, which were made to refer to some circumstance connected with the per- son's prospects, or the hopes of his parents respecting him. In their son's name, probably Zebedee and Salome designed to express some idea auspicious of his progress and character in after life. The name " John" is not only common in the New Testament, but also occurs in the Hebrew scriptures in the original form " Johanan," which bears the happy signification of " the favor of Jehovah," or " favored by Jehovah." They probably had this meaning in mind when they gave the name to him, and on that account preferred it to one of less hopeful religious character ; but to suppose, as some commentators have, that in conferring it, they were indued with a prophetic spirit, which for the moment directed 312 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. them to the choice of an appellation expressive of the high destiny of a chosen, favored herald of the grace of God, to Israel and to the Gentiles, — is a conjecture too absurdly wild to be entertained by a sober and discreet critic for a moment. Yet there are some, who, in the rage for finding a deep meaning in the simplest mat- ters, interpret this simple, common name, as prophetically express- ive of the beginning of the reign of grace, and of the abrogation of the formal law of Moses, first announced by John the Baptist, whose testimony was first fully recorded in the gospel of John the Apostle. Such idle speculations, however, serve no useful purpose, and only bring suspicion upon more rational investigations in the same department. HIS CALL AND DISCIPLESHIP. The first introduction of John to Jesus, appears to be distinctly, though modestly, described by himself, in the first chapter of his gospel, where he has evidently designated himself in the third person, as " the other disciple" of John the Baptist, who accom- panied Andrew on his first visit to Jesus. After the introduction above narrated, he seems to have remained near the newly found Messiah for some days, being, of course, included among those disciples who were present at the marriage in Cana. He appears to have returned, soon after, to his employments on the lake, where he for some time appears to have followed the business in which he had been brought up, till the word of his already adopted Mas- ter came to summon him to the actual duties of the discipleship. On the journeys that followed this call, he was engaged in no act of importance in which he was not also associated with those dis- ciples, in whose lives these incidents have been already fully de- scribed. On one occasion, however, a solitary instance is recorded by Luke, of a remark made by John, during a conversation which took place at Capernaum, after the return from the mission through Galilee, and not long before the great journey to Jerusalem. It seems to have been at the time when Jesus was inculcating a child- Uke simplicity, as an essential characteristic of his followers ; and the remark of John is, both by Mark and Luke, prefaced with the words — " and John answered and said," — though no very clear connexion can be traced between what he said and the preceding words of Jesus. The passage, however, is interesting, as showing that John was not always most discreet in his regard for the pecu- Har honors of his Master, — ^and in the case which he refers to, had JOHN. 313 in his restrictive zeal quite gone beyond the rules of action, by which Jesus expected him to be guided. The remark of John on this occasion was — " Master, we saw one casting out devils in thy name, and we forbade him, because he foUoweth not with us." This confession betrays a spirit still strongly under the influence of worldly feelings, manifesting a perfectly natural emotion of jealousy, at the thought of any intrusion, upon what he deemed the peculiar and exclusive privilege of himself and his eleven as- sociates in the fellowship of Christ. The high commission of sub- duing the malign agencies of the demoniac powers, had been spe- cially conferred on the elect twelve, when they first went forth on the apostoUc errand. This divine power, John had supposed ut- terly above the reach of common men, and it was therefore with no small surprise, and moreover with some indignant jealousy, that he saw a nameless person, not enrolled in the sacred band, nor even pretending to follow in any part of their train, boldly and successfully using the name of Jesus Christ, as a charm to silence the powers of darkness, and to free the victims of their evil influ- ences. This sort of feeling was not peculiar to John, but occurs wherever there arises a similar occasion to suggest it. It has been rife among the religious, as well as the worldly, in all ages ; and not a month now passes when it is not openly manifested, marring, by its low influences, the noblest schemes of Christian benevolence, as well as checking the advances of human ambition. So many there are, who, though imbued in some degree with the high spirit of apostolic devotion, yet, when they have marked some great field of benevolence for their efforts, are apt to regard it as their own peculiar province, and are disposed to view any action in that de- partment of exertion as an intrusion, and an encroachment on their natural rights. This feeling is the worst characteristic of ultra- sectarianism, — a spirit which would " compass sea and land," not merely " to gain one proselyte," but also to hinder a religious rival from the attainment of a similar purpose, — a spirit which in its modes of manifestation, and in its results, is nearer to that of the demon it aspires to expel, than to that of Him in whose name it professes to work. But tliElt such was not the spirit of Him who went about doing good, is seen in the mild yet earnest reply with which he met the manifestation of this haughty and jealous ex- clusiveness in his beloved disciple. " Forbid him not ; for there is no man who can do a miracle in my name, who will lightly speak evil of me. For he who is not against us is on our part." 314 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. And then referring to the previous train of his discourse, he went on to say, — '• For he who shall give you a cup of water in my name, because you belong to Christ, I tell you, indeed, he shall not lose his reward." So simple were the means of manifesting a true regard for Christ, and so moderate were the services which would constitute a claim to his remembrance, and to a participation in the rights of his ministry. If the act of kindness or of apostolic ministration had been done in his name, and had answered its good purpose, this was enough to show that he who performed it was such a friend as, so far from speaking evil of Jesus, would insure the best glory of his name, though he had not attached himself in manner and form to the train of regular disciples, Jesus Christ did not require a formal profession of regular discipleship, as essen- tial to the right of doing good in his name, or to the surety of a high and pure reward. How many are there among his professed followers in these times, who are " able to receive this saying?" There are few indeed, who, hearing it on any authority but his, would not feel disposed to reject it at once as a grievous heresy. Yet such was, unquestionably, the spirit, the word, and the prac- tice of Jesus. It was enousfh for him to know that the weight of human wo, which called him forth on his errand of mercy, was light- ened ; and that the spirit before darkened and bound down by the powers of evil, was now brought out into glorious light and free- dom. Most earnestly did he declare this solemn principle of cath- olic communion ; and most distinctly did he reiterate it in a varied form. The simplest act of kindness done to the commissioned of Christ, would, of itself, constitute a certain claim to his divine favor. But, on the other hand, the least wilful injury of one sent forth from him, would at once insure the ruin of the perpetrator. Soon after this solemn inculcation of universal charity, Jesus began to prepare his disciples for their great journey to Jerusalem ; and at last having completed his preliminary arrangements, he went on his way, sending forward messengers (James and John, as it would seem) to secure a comfortable stopping-place, at a Sa- maritan village which lay on his road. These select emissaries accordingly proceeded in the execution of their honorable com- mission, and entering the village, announced to the inhabitants the approach of the far-famed Galilean prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, who being then on his way to attend the great annual feast in Je- rusalem, would that niffht deisrn to honor their village with his divine presence ; — all which appears to have been communicated JOHN. 316 by the two messengers, with a full sense of the importance of their commission, as well as of the dignity of him whose approach they announced. But the sturdy Samaritans had not yet forgotten the rigid principles of mutual exclusiveness, which had so long been maintained between them and the Jews, with all the combined bit- terness of a national and a religious quarrel ; and so they dog- gedly refused to open their doors, in hospitality to one whose " face was as though he would go to Jerusalem." At this manifestation of sectarian and sectional bitterness, the wrath of the messengers knew no bounds, and reporting their inhospitable and scornful re- jection to Jesus, the two Boanerges, with a spirit quite literally accordant with their surname, inquired — " Lord ! wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them, as Elijah did?" The stern prophet of the days of Ahaziah had called down fire from heaven to the destruction of two successive bands of the insolent myrmidons of the Samaritan king ; and might not the wonder-doing Son of Man, with equal vindictiveness, com- mission his faithful followers to invoke the thunder on the inhos- pitable sectaries of the modern Samaritan race? But however this sort of summary justice might suit the wrathful piety of James and his " amiably gentle" brother, it was by Jesus deemed the offspring of a spirit too far from the forgiving benevolence of his gospel, to be passed by unrebuked. He therefore turned re- provingly to these fierce " Sons of Thunder," with the reply — " Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of For the Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them." And thus silencing their forward, destructive zeal, he quietly turned aside from the inhospitable sectarians who had refused him admis- sion, and found entertainment in another village, where the inhab- itants were free from such notions of religious exclusiveness. So idolatrous was the reverence with which many of the Fathers and ancient theo- logians were accustomed to regard the apostles, that they would not allow that these chosen ones of Christ ever committed any sin whatever ; at least, none after their calling to be disciples. Accordingly, the most ridiculous attempts have been made to justify or excuse the faults and errors of those apostles, who are mentioned in the New Testament as having committed any act contrary to the received standards of right. Among other circumstances, even Peter's perjured denial of his Lord has found stubborn defenders and apologists ; and among the saintly commentators of both Papist and Protestant faiths, have been found some to stand up for the immacu- late soundness of James and John, in this act of wicked and foolish zeal. Ambrose of Milan, in commenting on this passage, must needs maintain that their ferocity was in accordance with approved instances of a similar character in the Old Testament. " Nee discipuli peccant," says he, "qui legem sequuntnr;" and he then refers to the instance of extemporaneous vindictive justice in Phineas, as well as to that of Elijah, which was -uoted by the sons of Zebedee themselves. He argues, that, since the apostles wtre xndued with the same high privileges as the prophets, they were in this 316 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. instance abundantly justified in appealing to such authority for similar acts of ven- geance. He observes, moreover, that this presumption was still farther justified in them, by the name which they had received from Jesus; " being ' sons of thunder' they might fairly suppose that fire would come down from heaven at their word." But Lampe very properly remarks, that the prophets were clearly moved to these acts of wrathful justice by the Holy Spirit, and thereby, also, were justified in a vin- dictiveness, which might otherwise be pronounced cruel and bloody. The evidence of this spirit-guidance, those old prophets had, in the instantaneous fiery answer from heaven, to their denunciatory prayer ; but, on the other hand, in this case, the words of Jesus in reply to the Sons of Thunder, show that they were not actuated by a holy spirit, nor by the Holy Spirit ; for he says to them — " Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of," — which certainly implies that they were altogether mistaken in sup- posing that the spirit and power of Elijah rested on them, to authorize such wide- wasting and indiscriminate ruin of innocent and guilty, — women and children, as •well as men, inhabiting the village; and he rebukes and condemns their conduct for the very reason that it was the result of an unholy and sinful spirit. Yet, not only the Romish Ambrose, but also the Protestant Calvin, has, in his idol- atrous reverence for the infallibility of the apostles, (an idolatry hardly less unchris- tian than the saint-worship against which he strove,) thought it necessary to condemn and rebuke Maldonati, as guilty of a " detestable presumption," in declaring the sons of Zebedee to have been lifted up with a foolish arrogance. On the arguments by which Calvin justifies James and John, Larape well remarks, that the great reformer uses a truly Jesuitical weapon, (propria vineta caediL Loyolita,) when he says that " they desired vengeance not for themselves, but for Christ ; and were not led into error by any fault, but merely by ignorance of the spirit of the gospel and of Christ." But was not this ignorance itself a sin, showing itself thus in the very face of all the oft-repeat- ed admonitions of Jesus against this bloody spirit, even in his or any cause 1 and of all his inculcations of a universal rule of forbearance and forgiveness 1 John is not mentioned again in the gospel history, until near the close of the Savior's labors, when he was about to prepare his twelve chosen ones, for the great change which awaited their condition, by long and earnest instruction, and by prayer. In making the preliminary arrangements for this final meeting, John was sent along with Peter, to see that a place was provided for the entertainment. After this commission had been satisfactorily exe- cuted, they joined with Jesus and the rest of the twelve disciples in the Paschal feast, each taking a high place at the board, and John in particular reclining next to Jesus. As a testimony of the intimate affection between them, it is recorded by this apostle himself, in his gospel, that during the feast he lay on Jesus's breast ; — a position which, though very awkward, and even impossible, in the modern style of conducting feasts in the sitting posture, was yet rendered both easy and natural, in the ancient mode, both Oriental and Roman, of reclining on couches around the table. Under these circumstances, — those sharing the same part of the couch, whose feelings of affection led them most readily together, — such a position as that described by John, would occur very na- turally and gracefully. It here, in connexion with John's own artless, but expressive sentence, mentioning himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved, presents to the least imaginative mind, a most JOHN. 317 beautifully striking picture of the state of feeling between the young disciple and his Lord, — showing how closely their spirits were drawn together, in an affection of the most sacred and inter- esting character, far surpassing the paternal and filial relation in the high and pure nature of the feeling, because wholly removed from the mere animalities and instincts that form and modify so much of all natural love. The regard between these two beings was by no means essentially dependent on any striking similarity of mind or feeling. John had very little of that mild and gentle temperament which so decidedly characterized the Redeemer ; — he had none of that spirit of meekness and forgiveness which Jesus so often and earnestly inculcated ; but a fierce, fiery, thun- dering zeal, arising from a temperament, ardent alike in anger and in love. Nor was such a character at all discordant with the generality of those for whom Jesus seemed to feel a decided pre- ference. There is no one among the apostolic band, whether Galilean or Hellenistic, of whose characters any definite idea is given, that does not seem to be marked most decidedly by the fiercer and harsher traits. Yet like those of all children of nature, the same hearts seem to glow, upon occasion, as readily with af- fectionate as with wrathful feeling, both, in many instances, com- bining in their affection for Jesus. The whole gospel record, as far as the twelve disciples are concerned, is a most satisfactory comment on the characteristics ascribed by Josephus to the whole Galilean race, — " ardent and fierce." And this was the very tem- perament which recommended them before all men in the world, for the great work of laying the deep foundations of the Christian faith, amid opposition, hatred, confusion, and blood. And among these wild, but ardent dispositions, did even the mild spirit of the Redeemer find much that was congenial to its frame, as well as Its purposes ; for in them, his searching eye recognized faculties which, turned from the base ends of worldly strife and low, brawl- ing contest, might be exalted, by a mere modification, and not eradication, to the great works of divine benevolence. The same temperament that once led the ardent Galileans into selfish quar- rels, under the regenerating influences of a holy spirit, might be trained to a high, devoted self-sacrifice for the good of others ; and the valor which once led them to disregard danger and death in spiteful enmity, could, after an assimilation to the spirit of Jesus, be made equally energetic in the dangerous labors of the cause of universal love. Such is most clearly the spirit of 318 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. the Galilean disciples, as far as any character can be recognized in the brief, artless sketches, incidentally given of them in the New Testament history. Nor is there any good reason to mark John as an exception to these harsher attributes. The idea, now so very common, of his softness and amiability, seems to have grown almost entirely out of the circumstance, that he was " the disciple whom Jesus loved ;" as if the high spirit of the Redeemer could feel no sympathy with such traits as bravery, fierce energy, or even aspiring ambition. Tempted originally by the great source of evil, yet without sin, he himself knew by what spiritual revolutions the impulses which once led only to evil, could be made the guides to truth and love, and could see, even in the worst manifestations of that fiery ardor, the disguised germ of a holy zeal, which, under his long, anxious, prayerful care and cul- tivation, would become a tree of life, bringing forth fruits of good for nations. Even in these low, depraved mortals, therefore, he could find much to love, — nor is the circumstance of his affection- ate regard, in itself, any proof that John Avas deficient in the most striking characteristics of his countrymen ; and that he was not so, there is proof positive and unquestionable in those details of his own and his brother's conduct, already given. At this Paschal feast, lying, as described, on the bosom of Jesus, he passed the parting hours in most intimate communion with his already doomed Lord. And so close was their proximity, and so peculiarly favored was he, by the confidential conversation of Jesus, that when all the disciples were moved with painful doubt and surprise at the mysterious annunciation that there was a traitor among them, Peter himself, trusting more to the opportu- nities of John than to his own, made a sign to him to put to his Master a question, to which he would be more likely to receive an answer than anybody else. The beloved disciple, therefore, look- ing up from the bosom of Jesus, into his face, with the confi- dence of familiar affection, asked him, — " Who is it, Lord ?" And to his eager inquiry, was vouchsafed at once a most unhesitating and satisfactory reply, marking out, in the most definite manner, the person intended by his former dark allusion. After the scenes of Gethsemane, when the alarmed disciples fled from their captured Master, to avoid the same fate, John also shared in the race ; but on becoming assured that no pursuit of the secondary members of the party was intended, he quietly walked back after the armed train, keeping, moreover, close to them, as JOHN. 319 appears by his arriving at the palace gate along with them, and entering with the rest, on his way, in the darkness, he fell in with his friend Peter, also anxiously following the train, to learn the fate of his Master. John now proved of great advantage to Peter ; for, having some acquaintance with the high priest's family, he might expect admission to the hall without difficulty. This inci- dent is recorded only by John himself, in his gospel, where, in re- lating it, he refers to himself in the third person, as "another dis- ciple," according to his usual modest circumlocution. John, some- how or other, was well and favorably known to the high priest himself, for a very mysterious reason ; but certainly the most un- accountable point in Bible history is this : — how could a faithful follower of the persecuted and hated Jesus, be thus familiar and friendly in the family of the most powerful and vindictive of the Jewish magnates ? Nor can the difficulty be any way relieved, by supposing the expression " another disciple" to refer to a person different from John ; for all the disciples of Jesus would be equally unlikely persons for the intimacy of the Jewish high priest. What- ever might be the reason of this acquaintance, John was well- Imown throughout the family of the high priest, as a person high in favor and familiarity with that great dignitary ; so that a single word from him to the portress, was sufficient to procure the ad- mission of Peter also, who had stood without, not daring to enter as his brother apostle did, not having any warrant to do so on the ground of familiarity. Of the conduct of John during the trial of Jesus, or after it, no account whatever is given, — nor is he no- ticed in either of the gospels except his own, as present during any of these sad events ; but by his story it appears, that, in the hour of darkness and horror, he stood by the cross of his beloved Lord, with those women who had been the constant servants of Jesus during life, and were now faithful, even through his death. Among these women was the mother of the Redeemer, who now stood in the most desolate agony, by the cross of her murdered son, with- out a home left in the world, or a person to whom she had a natu- ral right to look for support. Just before the last agony, Jesus turned to the mournful group, and seeing his mother near the dis- ciple whom he loved, he said — " Woman ! behold thy son !" And then to John — " Behold thy mother !" The simple words were sufficient, without a gesture ; for the nailed and motionless hands of Jesus could not point out to each, the person intended as the object of parental or filial regard. Nor was this commission, thus 320 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. solemnly and affectingly given, neglected ; for, as the same disciple himself assures us, " from that hour, he took her to his own house." The highest token of affection and confidence that the Redeemer could confer, was this, — marking, as it did, a most pre-eminent regard, by committing to his charge a trust, that might with so much propriety have been committed to others of the twelve who were very nearly related to the mother of Jesus, being her own nephews, the sons of her sister. But so high was the confidence of Jesus in the sincerity of John's affection, that he unhesitatingly committed to him this dearest earthly charge, trusting to his love for its keeping, rather than to the considerations of family, and of near relationship. In the scenes of the resurrection, John is distinguished by the circumstance of his hurrying first, along with Peter, to the sepul- chre, on hearing from the women the strange story of what had happened ; and both hastening in the most intense anxiety to learn the nature of the occurrences which had so alarmed the women, the nimbleness of the youthful John soon carried him beyond Peter, and outstripping him in the anxious race, he came down to the sepulchre before him, and there stood, breathless, looking down into the place of the dead, in vain, for any trace of its late pre- cious deposit. While he was thus glancing into the place, Peter came up, and with a much more considerate zeal, determined on a satisfactory search, and accordingly went down into the tomb himself, and narrowly searched all parts ; and John, after his re- port, also then descended to assure himself that Peter had not been deceived by a too superficial examination of the inside. But having gone down into the tomb, and seen for himself the grave- clothes lying carefully rolled up, but no signs whatever of the body that had once occupied them, he also believed the report of the women, that the remains of Jesus had been stolen away in the night, probably by some ill-disposed persons, for an evil purpose, and perhaps to complete the bloody triumph of the Jews, by deny- ing the body so honorable an interment as the wealthy Joseph had charitably given it. In distress and sorrowful doubt, therefore, he returned with Peter to his own house, without the slightest idea of the nature of the abstraction. The next account of John is in that interesting scene, described in the last chapter of his own gospel, on the lake of Galilee, where Jesus met the seven disciples who went on the fishing excursion by night, as already detailed in the life of Simon Peter, who was JOHN. 321 the first to propose the thing, and who, in the scenes of the morn- ing, acted the most conspicuous part. The only passage which immediately concerns John, is the concluding one, where the pro- phecy of Jesus is recorded respecting the future destiny of this beloved disciple. Peter, having heard his Master's prophecy of the mode in which he should conclude his life, hoping to pry still farther into futurity, asked what would be the fate of John also. " Lord, what shall this man do ?" To which Jesus replied, — " If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ?" — an answer evidently meant to check his curiosity, without gratifying it in the least ; as John himself, remarking on the fact, that this saying originated an unfounded story, that Jesus had promised him that he should never die, — says that Jesus never specified any such thing, but merely said those few unsatisfactory words in reply to Peter. The words — " Till I come'^ — referred simply to the time when Christ should come in judgment on Jerusalem, for that un- questionably was the " coming," of which he had so often warned them, as an event for which they must be prepared ; and it was partly from a misinterpretation of these words, by applying them to the final judgment, that the idle notion of John's immortality arose. John probably surviving the other apostles many years, and living to a very great age, the second generation of Christians conceived the idea of interpreting this remark of Jesus as a prophecy that his beloved disciple should never die. And John, in his gospel, knowing that this erroneous opinion was prevalent, took pains to specify the exact words of Jesus, showing that they implied no direct prophecy whatever, nor in any way alluded to the possibility of his immortality. After the ascension, John is mentioned along with the rest who were in the upper room, and is otherwise par- ticularized on several occasions in the Acts of the Apostles. He was the companion of Peter in the temple, at the healing of the lame man, and was evidently considered by the chief apostle, a sharer in the honors of the miracle ; nor were the Sanhedrim dis- posed to deem him otherwise than criminally responsible for the act, but doomed him, along with Peter, to the dungeon. He was also honorably distinguished by being deputed with Peter to visit the new church in Samaria, where he united with him in impart- ing the confirming seal of the Spirit to the new converts, — and on the journey back to Jerusalem, preached the gospel in many vil- lages of the Samaritans. From this time no mention whatever is made of John in the 322 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. Acts of the Apostles ; and the few remaining facts concerning him, which can be derived from the New Testament, are such only as occur incidentally in the epistolary writings of the apostles. Paul makes a single allusion to him, in his epistle to the Galatians, where, speaking of his reception by the apostles on his second visit to Jerusalem, he mentions James, Cephas, and John, as " pillars" in the church, and says that they all gave him the right hand of fellowship. This little incidental allusion, though so brief, is worth recording, since it shows that John still resided in Jerusalem, and there still maintained his eminence and his usefulness, standing like a pillar, with Cephas and James, rising high above the many, and upholding the bright fabric of a pure faith. This is the only mention ever made of him in the epistles of Paul, nor do any of the remaining writings of the New Testament contcun any notice whatever of John, except those which bear his own name. But as these must all be referred to a later period, they may be left un- noticed until some account has been given of the intervening por- tions of his long life. Here then the course of investigation must leave the sure path of scripture testimony, and lead on through the mazy windings of traditionary history, among the uncertain records of the Fathers. Pillars. — This was an expressive figurative appellation, taken, no doubt, with direct allusion to the noble white columns of the porches of the temple, subserving in so high a degree the purposes both of use and ornament. The terra implies with great force, an exalted excellence in these three main supporters of the first Christian, church, and besides expressing the idea of those eminent virtues which belonged to them in common with other distinguished teachers of religion, it is thought by Lampe, that there is implied in this connexion, something peculiarly appropriate to these apostles. Among the uses to which columns were applied by Egyptians, Jews, Greeks, and Romans, was that of bearing inscriptions connected with public ordinances of state or religion, and of commemorating facts in science for the knowledge of other generations. To this use, allusion seems to be made in Prov. ix. 1. " Wisdom has built her house, — she has engraved, her seven pillars." [n^xn, hatsebha, may perhaps bear this meaning.] And in Rev. iii. 12, a still more unquestionable reference is made to the same circumstance. " Him that overcomes, will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out ; and I will write upon Aim the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down out of heaven from God, — and my own new name ;" — a passage which Grotius illustrates by a reference to this very use of pillars for inscriptions. It is in connexion with this idea, that Lampe considers the term as peculiarly expressive in its appli- cation to " James, Cephas, and John," since from them, in common with all the apos- tles, proceeded the oracles of Christian truth, and those principles of doctrine and practice, which were acknowledged as the rule of faith, by the churches of the ne'ar covenant. To these three, moreover, belonged some peculiar attributes of this char- acter, since they distinguished themselves above the most of the twelve, by their written epistolary charges, as well as by the general pre-eminence accorded to them by common consent, leaving to them the utterance of those apostolic opinions, which went forth from Jerusalem as law for the Christian churches. Lampe quotes on this poim Vitringa, (Obs. Sac. I. iii. 7,) Suicer, (Thes. Ecc. voc, o-niXos,) and Gataker, (Cin. ii. 20.) He refers also to Jerome, commenting on Gal, ii. 9; who there alludes to the fact that John, one of the " pillars," in his Revelation, introduces the Savior speaking as above quoted. (Rev. iii. 12.) JOHN. 323 THE RESULTS OF TRADITION. Probably there are few results of historical investigatii)n, that will make a more decided impression of disappointment on the mind of a common reader, than the sentence, which a rigid ex- amination compels the writer to pass, with such uniform con- demnatory severity, on most apostolic stories which are not sanc- tioned by the word of inspiration. There is a universal curiosity, natural, and not uncommendable, felt by all the believers and hearers of the faith which the apostles preached, to know some- thing more about these noble first witnesses of the truth, than the bare broken and unconnected details which the gospel, and the apostolic acts, can furnish. At this day, the most trifling circum- stances connected with them, — their actions, their dwelling-places, their lives or their deaths, have a value vastly above what could ever have been appreciated by those of their own time, who acted, dwelt, lived, and died with them, — a value increasing through the course of ages, in a regular progression, rising as it removes from the objects to which it refers. But the very course of this pro- gression implies a diminution of the means of obtaining the de- sired information, proportioned to the increase of the demand for it ; — and along with this condition of things, the all-pervading and ever-active spirit of invention comes in, to quench, with deep draughts of delightful falsehood, the honest thirst for literal truth. The misfortune of this constitution of circumstances, being that the want is not felt till the means of supplying it are irrecoverably gone, puts the investigation of the minutiae of all antiquity, sacred or profane, upon a very uncertain ground, and requires the most critical test for every assertion, offered to satisfy a curiosity which, for the sake of the pleasure thus derived, feels interested in de- ceiving itself; for " Doubtless the pleasure is as great Of being cheated as to cheat." Even the spirit of deep curiosity, which beguiles the historical inquirer into a love of the fabulous and unfounded tales of tradi- tion, though specifically more elevated by its intellectual charac- ter, is yet generically the same with the spirit of superstitious cre- dulity, that leads the miserable Papist to bow down with idolatrous worship before the ridiculous trash, called relics, which are pre- sented to him by the consecrated impostors who minister to him in holy things ; and *be feeling of indignant horror with which he 324 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. repulses the Protestant zeal, that would rob his spirit of the com- fortable support afforded by the possession of an apostolical toe-nail, a lock of a saint's hair, or by the sight of the Savior's handkerchief, or of a drop of his blood, — is all perfectly kindred to that indignant regret with which even a reformed reader regards all these critical assaults upon agreeable historical delusions, — and to that stubborn attachment with which he often clings to antique falsehood. Yet the pure consolations of the truth, known by research and judg- ment, are so far above these baser enjoyments, that the exchange of fiction, for historical knowledge, though merely of a negative kind, becomes most desirable even to an uncritical mind. The sweeping sentence of condemnation against most traditionary stories, may, however, be subjected to some decided exceptions in the case of John, who, living much longer than any other of the apostles, would thus be much more widely and lastingly known than they, to the Christians of the first and the second generations after the immediate contemporaries of the twelve. On this ac- count, the stories about John come with much higher traditionary authority, than those which pretend to give accounts of any other apostle ; and this view is still farther confirmed by the charac- ter of most of the stories themselves ; which are certainly much less absurd and vastly more probable in their appearance than the great mass of apostolic traditions. Indeed, in respect to this apos- tle, may be said, what can not be said of any other, that many tolerably well-authorized, and a few very decidedly authentic state- ments of his later life, may be derived from passages in the ge- nuine writings of the early Fathers. HIS JUDAICAL OBSERVANCES. The first point in John's history, on which the authentic testi- mony of the Fathers is offered to illustrate his life, after the Acts of the Apostles cease to mention him, is, that during the difficul- ties between the weak-minded, Judaizing Christians, and those of a freer spirit, who advocated an open communion with those Gen- tile brethren that did not conform to the Mosaic ritual, he, with Peter, and more particularly with James, joined in recommending a compromise with the inveterate prejudices of the Jewish be- lievers ; and to the end of his life, though constantly brought in contact with Gentiles, he himself still continued, in all legal and ritual observances, a Jew. A striking and probable instance of this adherence to Judaism, is given in the circumstance, that he JOHN. 325 alwa3rs kept the fourteenth day of March as holy time, in con- formity with one of the most common of the rehgious usages in which he had been brought up ; and the respect with which he regarded this observance is strongly expressed in the fact that he countenanced and encouraged it, also, in his disciples, some of whom preserving it throughout life as he did, brought down the notice of the occurrence to those days when the extinction of almost all the Judaical part of primitive Christianity made such a peculiarity very remarkable. This, though a small, is a highly valuable incident in the history of John, containing a proof of the strong affection which he always retained for the religion of his fathers, — a feeling which deserves the highest commendation, ac- companied as it was, by a most catholic spirit towards those Gen- tile Christians who could not bear a yoke, which education and long habit alone made more tolerable to him. With Peter and James. — The authority for this is Irenaeus, (A. D. 167,) who says *' Those apostles who were with James, permitted the Gentiles indeed to act freely, leaving us to the spirit of Grod. They themselves, too, knowing the same God, per- severed in their ancient observances. * * * Thus the apostles whom the Lord made witnesses of his whole conduct and his whole teaching, (for every where are found standing together with him, Peter, James and John,) religiously devoted themselves to the obs-ervance of the laio, which is by Moses, thus acknow- ledging both [the law and the spirit] to be from one and the same God." (Iren. adv. Her.) Fourteenth day of March. — This refers to the practice of observing the feast of the resurrection of Christ, on the fourteenth day of March, corresponding with the pass- over of the Jews, — a custom long kept up in the eastern churches, instead of always keeping it on Sunday. The authority for the statement is found in two ancient writers ; both of whom are quoted by Eusebius. (H. E., V. 24.) He first quotes Polycrates, (towards the end of the second century,) as writing to Victor, bishop of Rome, in defense of the adherence of the eastern churches to the practice of their fathers, in keeping the passover, or Easter, on the fourteenth day of the month, without regard to the day of the week on which it occurred, though the great majority of the Christian churches throughout the world, by common consent, always celebrated this resurrection feast on the Lord's day, or Sunday. Polycrates, in defense of the Orien- tal practice of his flock and friends, so accordant with early Jewish prejudices, quotes the example of the Apostle John, who, he says, died at Ephesus, where he (Polycrar tes) was bishop. He says, that John, as well as his brother-apostle, Philip, and Poly- carp, his disciple, " all observed Easter on the fourteenth day of the month, never varying from that day at all." Eusebius (ibid.) quotes also Irenaeus, writing to the same bishop Victor, against his attempt to force the eastern churches into the adop- tion of the practice of the Roman church, in celebrating Easter always on a Sunday, instead of uniformly on the fourteenth day of the month, so as to correspond with the Jewish passover. Irenaeus, in defense of the old eastern custom, tells of the Sractice of Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, a disciple of John. Polycarp, coming to Lome in the days of Bishop Anicetus, (A. D. 151 — 160,) though earnestly exhorted by that bishop to renounce the eastern mode of celebrating Easter always on the four- teenth, like the Jewish passover, steadily refused to change, giving, as a reason, the fact that John, the disciple of Jesus, and others of the apostles, whoni he had intimately known, had always followed the eastern mode. This latter authority, fairly derived from a person who had been the intimate friend of John himself, may be pronounced entitled to the highest respect, and quite clearly establishes this little circumstance, which is valuable only as showing John's pertinacious adherence to Jewish forms, to the end of his life. Socrates, an ecclesiastical historian, (A. D. 439,) alludes to the circumstance, that 326 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. those who observed Easter on the fourteenth, referred to the authority of the apostle John, as received by tradition. THE DEPARTURE FROM JERUSALEM. Some vain attempts have been made to ascertain the time at which the Apostle John left Jerusalem; but it becomes an honest investigator to confess, here, the absolute want of all testimony, and the total absence of such evidence as can afford reasonable ground even for conjecture. All that can be said, is, that there is no account of his having left the city before the Jewish war ; and there is some reason, therefore, to suppose that he remained there till driven thence by the first great alarm occasioned by the unsuc- cessful attack from Cestius Gallus. This Roman general, in the beginning of the Jewish war, (A. D. 66,) advanced to Jerusalem, and began a siege, which, however, he soon raised, without any good reason ; and suffering a fine opportunity of ending the war at once thus to pass by unimproved, he marched off, though in reality the inhabitants were then but poorly provided with means to resist him. His retreat, however, gave them a chance to pre- pare themselves very completely for the desperate struggle which, as they could see, was completely begun, and from which there could now be no retraction. This interval of repose, after such a terrible premonition, also gave opportunity to the Christians to withdraw from the city, on which, as they most plainly saw, the awful ruin foretold by their Lord, was now about to fall. Cestius Gallus, taking his stand on the hills around the city, had planted the Roman eagle-standards on the highths of Zophim, on the north, where he fortified his camp, and thence pushed the assault against Bezetha, or the upper part of the city. These were signs which the apostles of Jesus, who heard his prophecy of the city's ruin, could not misunderstand. Here was now " the abomination of desolation, standing in the holy place where it ought not ;" and £is Matthew records the words of Jesus, this v/as one great sign of coming ruin. " When they should see Jerusalem encompassed with armies, they were to know that the desolation thereof was nigh ;" for so Luke records the warning. " Then let them which are in Judea flee to the mountains; and let them who are in the midst of it depart out ; and let not them that are in other countries enter into it. For these are the days of vengeance, that all things which are written may be fulfilled." The apostles, therefore^ reading in all these signs the literal fulfilment of the prophetic •warning of their Lord, gathered around them the flock of the JOHN. 327 faithful ; and turning their faces to the mountains of the northwest, to seek refuge beyond the Jordan ,- — " Their backs they turned, On those proud towers, to swift destruction doomed." Nor were they alone ; for as the Jewish historian, who was an eye-witness of the sad events of those times, records, — " many of the respectable persons among the Jews, after the alarming attack of Cestius, left the city, like passengers from a sinking ship." And this fruitless attack of the Romans he considers to have been so arranged by a divine decree, to make the final ruin fall with the more certainty on the truly guilty. THE REFUGE IN PELLA. A tradition, entitled to more than usual respect, from its serious and reasonable air, commemorates the circumstance that the Chris- tians, on leaving Jerusalem, took refuge in the city of Pella, which stood on a small western branch of the Jordan, about sixty miles northwest from Jerusalem, among the mountains of Gilead. The locality on some accounts is a probable one, for it is distant from Jerusalem and beyond Judea, as the Savior directed them to flee ; and being also on the mountains, answers very well to the other particulars of his warning. But there are some reasons which would make it an undesirable place of refuge, for a very long time, to those who fled from scenes of war and commotion, for the sake of enjoying peafe and safety. That part of Galilee which formed the adjacent territory on the north of Pella, a few months after, became the scene of a devastating war. The city of Gamala, not above twenty miles off", was besieged by Vespasian, the general of the Roman invading army, (afterwards emperor,) and was taken after a most obstinate and bloody contest, the effect of which must have been felt throughout -the country around, making it any thing but a comfortable place of refuge, to those who sought peace. The presence of hostile armies in the region near, must have been a source of great trouble and distress to the inhabitants of Pella, so that those who fled from Jerusalem to that place, would, in less than a year, find that they had made no very agreeable exchange. These bloody commotions, however, did not begin immediately, and it was not till nearly one year after the flight of the Christians from Jerusalem, that the war was brought into the neighborhood of Pella ; for Josephus fixes the retreat of Cestius Gallus on the twelfth of November, in the twelfth year of Nero's reign, (A. D. 328 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 66,) and the taking of Gamala, on the twenty-third of October, in the following year, after one month's siege. There was then a period of several months, during which this region was quiet, and would therefore afford a temporary refuge to the fugitives from Jerusalem ; but for a permanent home they would feel obliged to look, not merely beyond Judea, but out of Palestine. Being in Pella, so near the borders of Arabia, which often afforded a refuge to the oppressed in its desert-girdled homes, the greater portion would naturally move off in that direction, and many, too, proba- bly extend their journey eastward into Mesopotamia, settling at last in Babylon, already becoming a new dwelling-place for both Jews and Christians, among whom, as has been recorded in a former part of this work, the Apostle Peter had made his home, where he probably remained for the rest of his life, and also died there. Respecting the movements of the Apostle John in this general flight, nothing certain can be affirmed ; but all probability would, without any other evidence, suggest that he followed the course of the majority of those who were under his pastoral charge ; and as their way led eastward, he would be disposed to take that route also. And here the floating fragments of ancient tradition may be cited, for what they are worth, in defense of a view which is also justified by natural probabilities. THE JOURNEY EASTWARD. The earliest testimony on this point does not Appear, however, until near the close of the fourth century ; when it arises in the form of a vague notion, that John had once preached to the Par- thians, and that his first epistle was particularly addressed to them. From a few such remnants of history as this, it has been consider- ed extremely probable, by some, that John passed many years, or even a great part of his life, in the regions east of the Euphrates, within the bounds of the great Parthian empire, where a vast number of his refugee countrymen had settled after the destruc- tion of Jerusalem, enjoying peace and prosperity, partly forgetting their national calamities, in building themselves up almost into a new people, beyond the bounds of the Roman empire. These would afford to him an extensive and congenial field of labor ; they were his countrymen, speaking his own language, and to them he was allied by the sympathies of a common misfortune and a com- mon refuge. Abundant proof has already been offered, to show that in this region was the home of Peter, during the same period ; JOHN. 329 and probabilities, as well as all the most ancient traditions, are strongly in favor of the supposition, that the other apostles followed him thither, making Babylon the new apostolic capital of the east- ern churches, as Jerusalem had been the old one. From that city, as a centre, the apostles would naturally extend their occasional labors into the countries eastward, especially where their Jewish brethren had spread their refugee settlements. Beyond the Roman limits, Christianity seems to have made but little progress indeed among the Gentiles, in the time of the apostles ; and if there had been no other difficulties, the great difference of language and man- ners, and the savage condition of most of the races around them, would have led them to confine their labors at first to those of their own nation, who inhabited the country watered by the Euphrates and its branches ; whence they might have gone still farther east, to lands where the Jews seem to have spread themselves to the banks of the Indus, and perhaps within the modern boundaries of India. But by intercourse with their countrymen who were naturalized among the heathen, they would soon acquire facilities for communicating the truth to them ; and there can hardly be a doubt that the apostles did actually in this way become missiona- ries to the heathen. Nor is it very improbable that the more en- terprising among them, after being gradually familiarized with barbarian habits and customs, went out alone into untried fields of Christian adventure, upon and beyond the Indus. Some wild traditionary accounts, of no great authority, even offer reports, that the Apostle John preached in India ; and some of the Jesuit mis- sionaries have supposed that they had detected such traditions among the tribes of that region, among whom they labored. All that can be said of these accounts is, that they accord with a rea- sonable supposition, which is made probable by other circum- stances ; but traditions of such a standing cannot be said to prove any thing. Parthia. — The earliest trace of this story is in the writings of Auguslin, (A. D. 398,) who quotes the first epistle of John as "the epistle to the Parthians," from which it appears that this was a common name for that epistle, in the times of Augustin. Alhanasius is also quoted by Bede, as calling it by the same name. If he wrote to the Parthians in that familiar way, he must have been among them, and many writers have therefore adopted this view. Among these, the learned Mill (Prolegom. in N. T. § 150) expresses his opinion very fully, that John passed the greater part of his life among the Parthians, and the believers near them. Lampe (Prolegom. in Joan. Lib. I. cap. iii. § 12, note) allows the probability of such a visit, but strives to fix its date long before the destruction of Jerusalem ; yet he offers not one good reason for such a notion. (See the corresponding passage in Peter's life, page 263.) India. — The story of the Jesuit missionaries is given by Baronius, (Ann. 44, § 30.) The story is, that letters from some of these missionaries, in 1555, give an account of 330 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. their finding such a tradition, among an East Indian nation, called the Bassoras, who told them that ihc apuslle John once preached the gospel in that region. No further particulars are given ; but this is enough to enable us to judge of the value of a story, dated fifleea centuries from the event which it commemorates. From his residence in Babylon, lon^-known through succeeding centuries as the great eastern metropolitan centre of Hebrew the- ology and literature, where the transplanted stocks of Rabbinical learning grew up and flourished in new luxuriance, — John proba- bly derived peculiar advantages from the peculiar facilities thereby afforded him for acquiring a knowledge of those things which, in the course of time, became the earliest occasion of error and secta- rian division in the Christian churches, calling on the last of the apostles for the great concluding work of his life, the dear and noble record of his testimony against the combination of Hebrew theological subtleties and Oriental mysticisms with the pure sim- plicity of the faith of Jesus. In this city, and in the farther East also, must have been rife among both Chaldeans and Persians, that wild Oriental philosophy which had so large a share in the early corruptions of Christianity, and which, floating westward, soon ob- scured the first light of apostolic revelation to the churches of Hellenic Asia, and afterwards, notwithstanding the evident opposi- tion of the last written testimony of the apostles, continued under the high name of the Gnosis, or science, to develope during the second century under a vast variety of forms, dividing the churches and perplexing the teachers. With the original source of these dreamy mysticisms, John must have had good opportunities of be- coming familiar, and the remarkable aptness and learning on these points which his writings show, must have been owing to the circumstances of this long eastern residence, at that time of his life when mental power was in its fullest vigor. The fact that some of these subjects had been pursued by him with actual study and de-^p attention, appears from the profound, extensive, and familiar knoNvledge which his prophetic writings display of Jewish Apocry- phal, Cabbahstic, and Talmudic lore. HIS RESIDENCE IN ASIA. The great mass of ancient stories about this apostle, take no notice at all of ?iis residence in the far eastern regions, on and be- yond the Euphrates, but make mention of the countries inhabited by Greeks and Romans, as the scenes of the greater part of his long life, after the destruction of Jerusalem. The palpable reason of the character of these traditions, no doubt, is, that they all como JOHN. 331 from the very regions which they commemorate as the home of John ; and the authors of the stories being interested only to se- cure for their own region the honor of an apostohc visit, cared nothing about the similar glory of countries far eastward, with which they had no connexion whatever, and of which they knew nothing. That region which is most particularly pointed out as the great scene of John's life and labors, is Asia, in the original, limited sense of the term, which includes only Ionia, or Maeonia, a small portion of the eastern border of the Aegean sea, as already described in the life of Peter. The most important place in this Ionic Asia, was Ephesus ; and in this famous city the Apostle John is said to have spent the latter part of his life, after the great dis- persion from Palestine. The motives of John's visit to Ephesus are variously given by different writers, both ancient and modern. All refer the primary impulse to the Holy Spirit, which was the constant and unerring guide of all the apostles in their movements abroad on the great mission of their Master. The divine presence of their Lord him- self, too, was ever with them to support and encourage, in their most distant wanderings, even as he promised at parting, — " Lo ! I am with you always, even to the end of the world." But histori- cal investigation may very properly proceed with the inquiry into the real occasion which led him, under that divine guidance, to this distant city, among a people who were mostly foreign to him in language, habits, and feelings, even though many of them owned the faith of Christ, and reverenced the apostle of his word. It is said, but not proved, that a formal division of the great fields of labor was made by the apostles among themselves, about the time of the destruction of Jerusalem ; and that, when Andrew took Scythia, and others their sections of duty, Asia was assigned to John, who passed the rest of his life there accordingly. This field had already, indeed, been gone over by Paul and his companions, and already at Ephesus itself had churches been gathered, which were afterwards taught and advanced under the pastoral care of Timothy, who had been instructed and commissioned for this very field, by Paul himself But these circumstances, so far from de- terring the Apostle John from presenting himself on a field of labor already so nobly entered, are supposed rather to have operated as incitements to draw him into a place where so solid a foundation had been laid for a complete fabric. As a centre of missionary action, indeed, Ephesus certainly did possess many local advantages 332 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. of a high order. The metropolis of ail Asia Minor, — a noble em- porium for the productions of that great section of the eastern con- tinent, on whose farthest western shore it stood, — and a grand centre for the traffic of the great Mediterranean sea, whose waters rolled from that haven over the mighty shores of three continents, bearing, wherever they flowed, the ships of Ephesus, — this port offered the most ready and desirable means of intercourse with all the commercial cities of the world, from Tyre, or Alexandria, or Sinope, to the pillars of Hercules, and gave the quickest and surest access to the gates of Rome itself Its widely extended commerce, of course, drew around its gates a constant throng of people from many distant parts of the world, a few of whom, if imbued with the gospel, would thus become the missionaries of the word of truth to millions, where the name of Jesus was before unknown. And since, after the death of all the other apostles, John survived so long, it was very desirable for all the Christian churches in the world, that the only living minister of the word who had been in- structed from the lips of Jesus himself, should reside in some such place, where he might so easily be visited by all, and whence his instructions might quickly go forth to all. His inspired counsels, and his wonder-working prayers, might be sought for all who needed them, and his apostolic ordinances might be heard and obeyed, almost at once, by the most distant churches. But the circumstance, which more especially might lead the wanderer from the ruined city and homes of his fathers, to Ephesus, was the great gathering of Jews at this spot, who of course thus presented to the Jewish apostle an ample field for exertions, for which his natural and ac- quired endowments best fitted him. Ephesus. — On the importance of this place, as an apostolic station, the Magdeburg Centuriators are eloquent ; and such is the classic elegance of the Latin in which these moderns have expressed themselves, that the passage is worth giving entire, for the sake of those who can enjoy the beauty of the original. " Considera mirabile Dei consilium. Joannes in Ephesum ad littus maris Aegaei collocatus est: ut inde, quasi e specula, retro suam Asiam videret, suaque fragrantia repleret: ante se vero Graeciam, totamque Europam haberet ; ut inde, tanquam tuba Domini sonora, etlam ultra-marinos populos suis concionibus ac scriptis inclamaret et invitaret ad Chris- tum ; presertim, cum ibi fuerit admodum commodus portus, plurimique mercatores ac homines peregrini ea loca adierint." The beauty of such a sentence is altogether bejrond the force of English, and the elegant paronomasia which repeatedly occurs in it, increasing the power of the original expression to charm the ear and mind, is to- tally lost in a translation, but the meanings of the sentences may be given for the benefit of those readers to whom the Latin is not familiar :— " Regard the wonderful providence of God. John was stationed at Ephesus, on the shore of the Aegean sea ; so that thence, as from a watch-tower, he might see his peculiar province, Asia, behind him, and might fill it with the incense of his prayers : before him, too, he had Greece and all Europe ; so that there, as with the far-sounding trumpet of the Lord, he might summon and invite to Christ, by his sermons and writings, even the nations beyond JOHN. 333 the sea, by the circumstance that there was a most spacious haven, and that vast numbers of traders and travelers thronged to the place." (Mag. Ecc. Hist. Cent. ii. 2.) Chrysostom speaks also of the importance of Ephesus as an apostolic station, allu- ding to it as a strong hold of heathen philosophy ; but there is no reason to think that John ever distinguished himself by any assaults upon systems with which he was not, and could never have been, sufticienlly acquainted to enable him to attack them; for in order to meet an evil, it is necessary to understand it thoroughly. There is no hint of an acquaintance with philosophy in any part of his writings, nor does any his- torian speak of his making converts among them. Chrysostom's words are, — " He fixed himself also in Asia, where anciently ail the sects of Grecian philosophy culti- vated their sciences. There he flashed out in the midst of the foe, clearing away their darkness, and storming the very citadel of demons. And with this design he went to this place, so well suited to one who would work such wonders." (Horn. 1, in John. Lampe, Prolegom.) In the account given in the Acts of the Apostles, of Paul's visit to Ephesus, particular mention is made of a synagogue there, in which he preached and disputed daily, for a long period, with great effect. Yet Paul's labors had by no means attained such complete success among the .Tews there, as to make it unnecessary for another apostle to labor in the ministry of the circumcision, in that same place ; for it is especially mentioned that Paul, after three months' active exertion in setting forth the truth in the syn- agogues, was induced by the consideration of the pecuhar difBcul- ties which beset him, among these proud and stubborn adherents of the old Mosaic system, to withdraw himself from among them ; and during the remainder of his two years' stay, he devoted him- self, for the most part, to the instruction of the willing Greeks, who opened the schools of philosophy for his teachings, with far more willingness than the Jews did their house of religious assembly. And it appears that the greater part of his converts were rather among the Greeks than the Jews ; for in the great commotions that followed, the attack upon the preachers of Christianity was made entirely by a heathen mob, in which no Israelite seems to have had einy hand whatever ; so that Paul had evidently made but little impression, comparatively, on the latter class. Among the Jews then, there was still a wide field open for the labors of one, consecrated, more especially, for the ministry of the circum- ^^ cision. The circumstances of the times, also, presented many ad- vantages for a successful assault upon the religious prejudices of his countrymen. The great Centre of Unity for the race of Israel throughout the world, had now fallen into an irretrievable oblivion, under the fire and sword of the invader. The glories of the an- cient covenant seemed to have passed away for ever ; and in the high devotion of the Jew, a blank was now left, by the destruction of the only temple of his ancient faith, which nothing else on 334 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. earth could fill. Henceforth he might be trained to look for a spiritual temple, — a city eternal in the heavens, whose lasting foundations were laid by no mortal hand, for the heathen to sweep away in unholy triumph ; but whose builder and maker and guardian was God. Thus prepared, by the mournful consumma- tion of their country's utter ruin, for the reception of a pure faith, the condition of the disconsolate Jews must have appeared in the highest degree interesting to the solitary surviving apostle of Je- sus ; and he would naturally devote the remnant of his days to that portion of the world where he might make the deepest in> pression on them, and where his influence might spread widest to the scattered members of a people, then, as now, eminently com- mercial. Under these peculiarly interesting circumstances, the Apostle John is supposed to have arrived at Ephesus, where Timothy, if still surviving and holding the episcopal chair in which he had been placed by the Apostle Paul, must have hailed with great de- light the arrival of the venerable John, from whose instructions and counsels he might hope to derive advantages so much the more welcome, since the sword of heathen persecution had re- moved his original apostolic teacher from the world. John must have been, at the time of his journey to Ephesus, considerably advanced in life. His precise age, and the date of his arrival, are altogether unknown, nor are there any fixed points on which the most critical and ingenious historical investigation can base any certain conclusion whatever, as to these interesting matters. Va- rious and widely different have been the conclusions on these points ; — some fixing his journey to Ephesus in the reign of Claudius, long before the destruction of Jerusalem, and even before the dispute on the question of the circumcision. The true char- acter of this tale can be best appreciated by a reference to another circumstance, which is gravely appended to it by its narrators ; — which is, that he was accompanied on his tour by the Virgin Mary, and that she lived there with him for a long time. This journey too, is thus made to precede the journey of Paul to Ephesus, by many years, and yet no account whatever is given of the reasons of the profound silence observed in the Acts of the Apostles, on an event so important to the history of the propagation of the gospel, nor why John could have lived so long at Ephesus, and yet have eflfected so little, that when Paul came to the same place, tiie very name of Christ was new there. But such stories are not worth JOHN. ''^ 335 refuting, standing as they do, self-convicted falsehoods. Others, however, are more reasonable, and date this journey in the year of the destruction of Jerusalem, supposing that Ephesus was the first place of refuge to which the apostle went. But this conjecture is totally destitute of all ancient authority, and is inconsistent with the Very reasonable supposition adopted above, — that he, in the flight from Jerusalem, first journeyed eastward, following the general current of the fugitives, towards the Euphrates. Where there is such a total want of all data, any fixed decision is out of the question ; but it is very reasonable to suppose that John's final departure from the East did not take place till some years after this date ; probably not until the reign of Domitian, (A. D. 81 or 82.) He had lived in Babylon, therefore, till he had seen most of his brethren and friends pass away from his eyes. The venerable Peter had sunk into the grave, and had been followed by the rest of the apostolic band, until the youngest apostle, now grown old, found himself standing alone in the midst of a new generation, like one of the solitary columns of desolate Babylon, among the low dwelling places of its refugee inhabitants. But among the hourly crumbling heaps of that ruined city, and the fast-darkening regions of tliat half-savage dominion, there was each year less and less around him, on which his precious labor could be advantageously expended. Christianity never seizes readily on the energies of a broken or degenerating people, nor does it flourish where the in- fluences of civilization are losing their hold. Its exalted and ex- alting genius rather takes the spirits that are already on the wing for an upward course, and rises with them, giv.ng new energy to the ascending movement. It may exert its elevating influence too, on the yet wild spirit of the uncivilized, and give, in the new conceptions of a pure faith and a high destiny, the first impulse to the advance of man towards refinement, in knowledge, and art, and freedom ; but its very existence among them is dependent on this forward and upward movement, — and the beginning of its mortal decay dates from the cessation of the developments of the intellectual and physical resources of the race on which it operates. Among the subjects of the Parthian empire, this downward movement was already fully decided ; and they were fast losing those refinement? of feeling and thought on which the new faith could best fasten its spiritual and inspiring influences ; they therefore soon became but hopeless objects of missionary exertion, when compared with the active and enterprising inhabitants of the still improving regions 336 LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. of the West. " Westward," then, "the star" of Christianity, as " of empire, took its way ;" and the last of the apostles was but follow- ing, not leading, the march of his Lord's advancing dominion, when he shook off the dust of the darkening eastern lands from his feet for ever, — turning his aged face towards the setting sun, to find in his latter days a new home and a foreign grave among the children of his brethren, and to rejoice his old eyes with the glori- ous sight of what God had done for the churches, among the flourishing cities of the West, that were still advancing in know- ledge and refinement, under Grecian art and Roman sway. The idea of John's visit to Ephesus, where Timothy was already settled over the church as bishop, has made a great deal of useless trouble to those who confound the office of an aposile with that of a bishop, and are always degrading an apostle into a mere church-oflicer. Such persons of course, are put to a vast deal of pains to make out how Timothy could manage to keep possession of his bishopric, with the Apostle John in the same town with him ; for they seem to think that a bishop, like the flag-ofScer on a naval station, can hold the command of the post not a moment after a senior officer appears in sight ; but that then down comes the broad blue pen- non to be sure, and never is hoisted again till the greater officer is off beyond the ho- rizon. But no such idle arrangements of mere etiquette were ever suffered to mar the noble and useful simplicity of the primitive church government, in the least. The presence of an apostle in the same town with a bishop, could no more interfere with the regular function of the latter, than the presence of a diocesan bishop in any city of his diocese, excludes the rector of the church there, from his pastoral charge. The sacred duties of Timothy were those of the pastoral care of a single church, — a sort of charge that no aposth is known to have ever assumed out of Jerusalem ; but John's apostolic duties led him to exercise a general supervision over a great number of churches. All those in Little Asia would claim his care alike, and the most distant would look to him for counsel; while that in Ephesus, having been so well establish- ed by Paul, and having enjoyed the pastoral care of Timothy, who had been instructed and commissioned for that very place and duly, by him, would really stand in very little need of any direct attention from John. Yet among his Jewish brethren he would still find much occasion for his miss-k)nary labor, even in that city ; and this was the sort of duty which was most appropriate to his apostolic character ; for the apostles were missionaries, and not bishops, except in Jerusalem. Others pretend to say, however, that Timothy was dead when John arrived, and that John succeeded him in the bishopric,— probably a mere invention to get rid of the difficulty, and proved to be such by the assertion ihat the apostle was a bishop, and rendered suspicious also by the circumstance of Timothy being so young a man. The fable of the Virgin Mary's journey, in company w^ith John, to Ephesus, has been very gravely supported by Baronius, (Ann. 44, § 29,) who makes it happen in the second year of the reign of Claudius, and quotes as his authority a groundless statement, drawn from a mis-translation of a synodical epistk from the council of Ephesus to the clergy at Constantinople, containing a spurious passage which alludes to this story, condemning the Nestorians as heretics, for rejecting ihe tale. There are, and have long been, however, a vast number of truly discreet aiA learned Ro- manists, who have scorned to receive such contemptible and useless inventions. Among these, the learned Antony Pagi, in hisHistorico-Chronological Review of Ba- ronius, has utterly refuted the whole story, showing the spurious character of the passage quoted in its support. (Pag. Crit. Baron. An. 42. § 3.) Lampe quotes more- over, the Abbot Facditius, the Trevoltian collectors and Combefisius, as also refu- ting the fable. Among the Protestant critics, Rivetus and S. Basnage have discussed the same point. Of the incidents of John's life at Ephesus, no well-authorized account whatever can be given. Yet on this part of apostolic JOHN, 337 history the Fathers are uncommonly rich in details, which are in- teresting, and some of which present no improbability on exami- nation ; but their worst character is, that they do not make their appearance until above one hundred years after the date of the incidents which they commemorate, and refer to no authority, but loose and floating tradition. In respect to these, too, occurs exactly the same difficulty which has already been specified in connexion with the traditionary history of Peter, — that the same early writers, who record as true these stories which are so proba- ble and reasonable in their character, also present in the same grave manner other stories, which do bear with them, on their very faces, the evidence of their utter falsehood, in their palpable and monstrous absurdity. Among the possible and probable inci- dents of John's life, narrated by the Fathers, are a journey to Je- rusalem, and one also to Rome, — but of these there is no certainty, nor any acceptable evidence. These long journeys, too, are wholly without any sufficient assigned object, which would induce so old a man to leave his quiet and useful residence at Ephesus, to travel Imndreds and thousands of miles. The churches of both R^me and Jerusalem were under well organized governments, which were perfectly competent to the administration of their own affairs, without the presence of an apostle ; or, if they needed his counsel in an emergency, he could communicate his opinions to them with great certainty, by message, and with far more quick- ness and ease, than by a journey to them. Such an occasion for a direct call on him, however, could but very rarely occur, — nor would so unimportant an event as the death of one bishop and the installation of another, ever induce him to take a journey to sanc- tion a mere formality by his presence. His help certainly was not needed by any church out of his own little Asian circle, in the selection of proper persons to fill vacant offices of government or instruction. They knew best their own wants, and the abilities of their own members to exercise any official duty to which they might be called ; while John, a perfect stranger to most of them, would feel neither disposed nor qualified for meddling with any part of the internal policy of other churches. But the principal condemnation of the statement of his journey to Rome is contained in the foolish story connected with it, by its earliest narrator, — that on his arrival there, he was, by order of the emperor Domitian, thrown into a vessel full of hot oil ; but, so far from receiving the shghtest injury, he came out of this place of torture, quite im- 33S LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. proved in every respect by the immersion ; and, as the story goes, arose from it perfumed like an athleta anointed for the combat. There are very great variations, however, in the different narra- tions of this affair ; some representing the event as having occur- red in Ephesus, under the orders of the proconsul of Asia, and not in Rome, under the emperor, as the earlier form of the fable states. Among the statements which fix the scene of this miracle in Rome, too, there is a very important chronological difference, — some dating it under the emperor Nero, which would carry it back as early as the time of Peter's fabled martyrdom, and implies a total contradiction of all established opinions on his prolonged re- sidence in the East. In short, the whole story is so completely covered over with gross blunders and contradictions about times and places, that it cannot receive any place among the details of serious and well-authorized history. Thrown into a vessel of oil. — This silly story has a tolerably respectable antiquity, going farther back with its authorities than any other fable in the Christian mythol- ogy, except Justin Martyr's story about Simon Magus. The earliest authority for this is TertuUian, (A. D. 200,) who says that " at Rome, the Apostle John, having been immersed in hot oil, suffered no harm at all from it." (De Praescripl. adv. Haer. c. 36.) " In oleum igneum immersus nihil passus est." But for nearly two hundred years after, no one of the Fathers refers to this fable. Jerome (A. D. 397) is the next of any certain date, and speaks of it in two passages. In the first (adv. Jovin. I. 14) he quotes TertuUian as authority, but says, that "he was thrown into the kettle by order of Nero" — a most palpable error, not sanctioned by TertuUian. In the second passage (Comm. in Matt. xx. 23) he furthermore refers in general terms to " ecclesiastical histories, in which it was said that John, on account of his testimony concerning Christ, was thrown into a kettle of boiling oil, and came out thence like an alhlela, to win the crown of Christ." From these two sources, the other narrators of the story have drawn it. Of the modern critics and historians, be- sides the great mass of Papists, several Protestants are quoted by Lampe, as strenu- ously defending it; and several of the greatest, who do not absolutely receive it as true, yet do not presume to decide against it ; as the Magdeburg Centuriators, (Cent. 1, lib. 2, c. 10,) who however declare it very doubtful indeed, " incerlissimum est;" — Ittig, Le Clerc, and Mosheim, taking the same ground. But Meisner, Cellarius, Dodwell, Spanheim, Heumann, and others, overthrow it utterly, as a baseless fable. They argue against it, first, from the bad character of its only ancient witness. TertuUian is well known as most miserably credulous, and fond of catching up these idle tales ; and even the devoutly believing Baronius condemns him in the most un- measured terms, for his greedy and undiscriminating love of the marvelous. Secondly, they object the profound silence of all the Fathers of the second, third, and fourth centuries, excepting him and Jerome ; whereas, if such a remarkable incident were of any authority whatever, those numerous occasions on which they refer to the ban- ishment of John to Patmos, which TertuUian connects so closely with this story, would suggest and require a notice of the causes and attendent circumstances of that banishment, as stated by him. How could those eloquent writers, who seem to dwell with so much delight on the noble trials and triumphs of the apostles, pass over this wonderful peril and miraculous deliverance"? Why did Irenaeus, so studious in ex- tolling the glory of John, forget to specify an incident implying at once such a cour- ageous spirit of martyrdom in this apostle, and such a peculiar favor of God, in thus wonderfully preserving him 1 Hippolytus and Sulpitius Severu: too, are silent ; and more than all, Eusebius, so diligent in scraping together all that can heap up the martyr-glories of the apostles, and more particularly of John himself, is here utterly without a word on this interesting event. Origen, too, dwelling on the modes in which JOHN. 339 oe drank of the cup of Jesus, as he prophesied, makes no use of .diion. (Lampe in Prolegom. in Joannem.) On the origin of this fable, Lampe mentions a very ingenious conjecture, that some such act of cruelly may have been meditated or threatened, but afterwards given up ; cind ihat thence the slory became accidentally so perverted as to make what was merely designed, appear to have been partly put in execution. In this decided condemnation of the venerable TertuUian, I am justified by the ex- ample of Lampe, whose reverence for the authority of the Fathers is much greater tiian that of most theologians of later days. He refers to him in these terms : " Ter- TULLiANCs, cujus crcduHlas, in arripiendis futilibus narratiunculis alias non ignota est." — " Whose credulity in catching up idle tales is well known in other instances." Hanlein also calls him "der leichtglaubige TertuUian,"— " the credulous Teriul- lian." (Hanlein's Einleitung in N. T. vol. III. p. 166.) This miraculous event procured the highly-favored John, by this extreme unction, all the advantages, with none of the disadvantages of martyrdom ; for in consequence of this peril he has received among the Fathers the name of a " living martyr," (foil/ jiaoTvp.) Gregory of Nazianzus, Chrysostom, Athanasius, Theophylact, and others, quoted by Suicer, (sub voce jiiiorvn^') apply this term to him. " He had the mYft