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ARCHDEACON FAEEAE.

[by Barraud.

Archdeacon Farrar.

elF=i<l NE-i<! P<oK

P3H SI

O«Os

THE

LIFE OF CHEIST.

BY

FREDERIC W. FARRAR, D.D., F.R.S.;
LATE FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE ;
MASTER OF MARLBOROUGH COLLEGE, AND CHAPLAIN IN ORDDiABT
TO THE QUEEN.

MANET IMMOTA FIDES.

[COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME.]
lEilfj an %mttit&n ^ppniri*,
GIVING
OVER FIVE HUNDRED TRANSLATIONS OF NON-ENGLISH MATTER
CONTAINED IN THE WOKK.

ALBANY, N. T.
BUFFS WENDELL, PUBLISHES,
480 Broadway. 1875.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by
RTJFUS WENDELL,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
WEED, PARBONS AND COMPANY,
ALBANY, N. Y.

INTRODUCTION TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.

The present edition of Dr. Farrar's Life of Christ is the only
unabridged American reprint of the work, and is afforded at a cost
one-fourth less than the reduced price of the English edition. The
advantages of a single volume are secured without making a book
unwieldy in size, while the use of new type for the text, paper of a
superior quality, and careful press-work, leave little to be desired on
the score of beauty and legibility in the printed page.
The publication of the volume here offered to the American public
was undertaken in the belief, based on the concurring verdict of com
petent and impartial critics on both sides of the Atlantic, that Pro
fessor Eabrar had produced the best Life of our Saviour that had
ever been writte^-since the time of the inspired Evangelists. This
conviction of its unequalled merit has been strengthened, in the mind
of the present publisher, by numerous notices and opinions of the
work that have come to his knowledge since the stereotyping of the
volume was begun nearly five months ago.
The intelligent reader will hardly need to have his attention drawn
to the greatly enhanced value which this reprint derives from the
matter furnished in the " American Appendix " at the end of the
volume. Dr. Farrar, in his Preface, says: "I have admitted into
the notes some quotations and references which will be comparatively
valueless to the ordinary reader." How, in a good degree, to relieve
the notes of the work of the disability thus recognized, by making
their wealth of matter more largely available to the "ordinary
reader," was a question that arose almost at the first sight of the
London edition. A ready answer suggested itself, and the plan of a
series of Translations of non-English matter contained in the work
was forthwith determined.
When the preliminary task of affixing numerals to the matter to
be translated had (as stated on page 726) well advanced, the services

vi INTRODUCTION TO AMERICAN -EDITION.
of a competent translator were sought. For his good fortune in
securing the man most desired for the undertaking, the writer of these
introductory paragraphs can not be too grateful. The Translations
are commended to the reader, in the confident belief that they will be
most highly prized by those who, in carefully perusing the notes
containing the originals, shall become most familiar with them.
It will be of general interest to state that plate-proofs of all the
reading matter of the volume were revised by the author of the
Translations contained in the "American Appendix." This super
vision, by a scholar having large experience in such work, secured
the detection and correction, in the notes, of numerous errors that
had escaped the vigilance of the proof-reader of the English edition.
The personal references to our brilliant" author, which are contained
in the following paragraph — taken from the columns of a leading
American journal of recent date — will gratify a natural and laudable
curiosity likely to be felt by many an appreciative reader:
" The Rev. Fbedebick William Pabrak, whose ' Life of Christ '. . . . is one of
the most remarkable as well as most fascinating religious works of the day, is
one of the men now most talked of in the literary circles in England. Mr.
Fabbar is in the prime of manhood — forty- four — and from his college days
onward has been distinguished for intellectual abilities and attainments. While
a student at Cambridge he won the Chancellor's medals for the best English
poem and for two of the prize essays. At twenty-seven he was elected an
honorary Fellow of King's College, at thirty-five a. Fellow of the Royal
Society, at thirty-seven university preacher, at thirty-eight honorary chaplain to
the Queen, and at forty Master of Marlborough College — a promotion unusually
rapid, but fairly achieved. He is the author of several novels, various phil
ological books, and several strong works in theology ; has been » contributor
to Smith's Dictionary of the Bible, Kitto's Biblical Cyclopaedia, Encyclopaedia
Britanniaa, and to the leading reviews ; while some of his lectures and papers
delivered before the Royal Institution and the British Association have led to
important modifications in the English public schools. But his fame will rest
chiefly on his ' Life of Christ,' which, in whatever light it may be viewed, is one
of the most charming and instructive, as it is one of the most erudite, works of
the day."
Since the foregoing was published, the announcement has been
made, through the public press, that Dr. Farrar has in hand a Life
of St. Paul. Its appearance in print will be awaited by many with
eager expectancy.
E. W.
Albany, July 28, 1875.

a

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O HaH I
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PREFACE.

In MHUing a task so difficult and so important as that of writing
the Life of Christ, I feel it to be a duty to state the causes which led
me to undertake it, and the principles which have guided me in carry
ing it to a conclusion.
1. It has long been the desire and aim of the publishers of this
work to spread as widely as possible the blessings of knowledge ; and,
in special furtherance of this design, they wished to place in the hands
of their readers such a sketch of the Life of Christ on earth as should
enable them to realize it more clearly, and to enter more thoroughly
into the details and sequence of the Gospel narratives. They there
fore applied originally to an eminent theologian, who accepted the
proposal, but whose elevation to the Episcopate prevented him from
carrying it out.
Under these circumstances application was made to me, and I could
not at first but slirink from a labor for which I felt that the amplest
leisure of a lifetime would be insufficient, and powers incomparably
greater than my own would still be utterly inadequate. But the con
siderations that were urged upon me came no doubt with additional
force from the deep interest with which, from the first, I contem
plated the design. I consented to make the effort, knowing that I
could at least promise to do my best, and believing that he who does
the best he can, and also seeks the blessing of God upon his labors,
cannot finally and wholly fail.
And I have reason to be thankful that I originally entered upon the
task, and, in spite of all obstacles, have still persevered in it. If the
foUowing pages in any measure fulfil the objects with which such a

2 PREFACE.
Life ought to be written, they should fill the minds of those who read
them with solemn and not ignoble thoughts ; they should " add sun
light to daylight by making the happy happier ; " they should encour
age the toiler ; they should console the sorrowful ; they should point
the weak to the one true source of moral strength. But whether this
book be thus blessed to high ends, or whether it be received with
harshness and indifference, nothing at least can rob me of the deep
and constant happiness which I have felt during almost every hour
that has been spent upon it. Though, owing to serious and absorb
ing duties, months have often passed without my finding an oppor
tunity to write a single line, yet, even in the midst of incessant labor
at . other things, nothing forbade that the subject on which I was
engaged should be often in my thoughts, or that I should find in it a
source of peace and happiness different, alike in kind and in degree,
from any which other interests could either give or take away.
2. After I had in some small measure prepared myself for the
task, I seized, in the year 1870, the earliest possible opportunity to
visit Palestine, and especially those parts of it which will be forever
identified with the work of Christ on earth. Amid those scenes
wherein He moved — in the
* * * holy fields
Over whose acres walked those blessed feet
Which, eighteen hundred years ago, were nailed
For our advantage, on the bitter cross " —
in the midst of those immemorial customs which recalled at every
turn the manner of life He lived — at Jerusalem, on the Mount of
Olives, at Bethlehem, by Jacob's Well, in the Valley of Nazareth,
along the bright strand of the Sea of Galilee, and in the coasts of
Tyre and Sidon — many things came home to me, for the first time,
with a reality and vividness unknown before. I returned more than
ever confirmed in the wish to tell the full story of the Gospels in
such a manner and with such illustrations as — with the aid of all
that was within my reach of that knowledge which has been accu
mulating for centuries — might serve to enable at least the simple
and the unlearned to understand and enter into the human surround
ings of the life of the Son of. God.

PREFACE. 3
3. But, while I say this to save the book from being judged by a
false standard, and with reference to ends which it was never intended
to accomplish, it would be mere affectation to deny that I have hoped
to fm-nish much which even learned readers may value. Though
the following pages do not pretend to be exhaustive or specially
erudite, they yet contain much that men of the highest learning have
thought' or ascertained. The books which I have consulted include
the researches of divines who have had the privilege of devoting to
this subject, and often to some smaU fragment of it, the best years
of laborious and uninterrupted lives. No one, I hope, could have
reaped, however feebly, among such harvests, without garnering at
least something, which must have its value for the professed theolo
gian as well as for the unlearned. And because I believed — and
indeed most earnestly hoped — that this book might be acceptable to
many of my brother-clergymen, I have admitted into the notes some
quotations and references which will be comparatively valueless to
the ordinary reader. But, with this double aim in view, I have tried
to avoid " moving as in a strange diagonal,'.'; and have never wholly
lost sight of the fact that I had to work with no higher object than
that thousands, who have even fewer opportunities than myself,
might be the better enabled to read that one Book, beside which
even the best and prof oundest treatises are nothing better than poor
and stammering fragments of. imperfect commentary.
4. It is perhaps yet more important to add that this Life of
Christ is avowedly and unconditionally the work of a believer.
Those who expect to find in it new theories about the divine person
ality of Jesus, or brilliant combinations of mythic cloud tinged by
the sunset imagination of some decadent belief, will look in vain.
It has not been written with any direct and special reference to the
attacks of sceptical criticism. It is not even intended to deal other
wise than indirectly with the serious doubts of those who, almost
against their will, think themselves forced to lapse into a state of
honest disbelief. I may indeed venture to hope that such readers, if
they follow me with no unkindly spirit through these pages, may
here and there find considerations of real weight and importance,
which will solve imaginary difficulties and supply an answer to real
objections. Although this book is not mainly controversial, and would,

4 PREFACE.
had it been intended as a contribution to polemical Uterature, have
been written in a very different manner, I do not believe that it will
prove whoUy valueless to any honest doubter who reads it in a can
did and uncontemptuous spirit. Hundreds of critics, for instance,
have impugned the authority of the Gospels on the score of the real
or supposed contradictions to be found in them. I am of course
familiar with such objections, which may be found in all sorts of
books, from Strauss's Leben Jesu and Kenan's Vie de Jesus, down
to Sir R. Hanson's Jesus of History, and the English Life of Jesus,
by Mr. Thomas Scott. But, while I have never consciously evaded
a distinct and formidable difficulty, I have constantly endeavored to
show by the mere silent course of the narrative itself that many of
these objections are by no means insuperable, and that many more
are unfairly captious or altogether fantastic.
5. If there are questions wider and deeper than the minutiae of
criticism, into which I have not fully and directly entered, it is not
either from having neglected to weigh the arguments respecting
them, or from any unwillingness to state the reasons why, in common
with tens of thousands who are abler and wiser than myself, I can
still say respecting every fundamental doctrine of the Christian faith,
Manet immota fides.1 Writing as a believer to believers, as a Chris
tian to Christians, surely, after nearly nineteen centuries of Chris
tianity, any one may be allowed to rest, a fact of the Life of Jesus on
the testimony of St. John without stopping to write a volume on the
authenticity of the Fourth Gospel ; or may narrate one of the Gospel
miracles without deeming it necessary to answer all the arguments
which have been urged against the possibility of the supernatural.
After the long labors, the powerful reasoning, and the perfect his
torical candor with which this subject has been treated by a host of
apologists, it is surely as needless as it is impossible to lay again, on
every possible occasion, the very lowest foundations of our faith. As
regards St. John, therefore, I have contented myself with the merest
and briefest summary of some of the evidence which to me still
seems adequate to prove that he was the author of the Gospel which
passes by his name,* and minuter indications tending to strengthen
* See pp. 128, 129, passim.

PREFACE. 5
that conviction wiU be found scattered throughout the book. It
would indeed be hypocrisy in me to say with Ewald that " every
argument, from every quarter to which we can look, every trace and
record, combine together to render any serious doubt upon the ques
tion absolutely impossible ; " but I do say that,' after the fairest and
fullest consideration which I have been able to give to a question
beset with difficulties, the arguments in favor of the Johannine
authorship seem to me to be immensely preponderant.
Nor have I left the subject of the credibility of miracles and the
general authenticity of the Gospel narratives entirely untouched,
although there was the less need for my entering fully upon those
questions in the following pages from my having already stated
elsewhere, to the best of my ability, the grounds of my belief.
The same remark applies to the yet more solemn truth of the
Divinity of Christ. That — not indeed as surrounded with aU the
recondite inquiries about the nspixmprjGH'' or communicatio
idiomatum,3 the hypostatic union, the abstract impeccability, and
such scholastic formulae, but in its broad scriptural simplicity — was
the subject of the Hulsean Lectures before the University of Cam
bridge in the year 1870. In those lectures I endeavored to sketch
what has ever seemed to my mind the most convincing external evi
dence of our faith, namely, " The Witness of History to Christ."
Those who have rejected the creed of the Church in this particular,
approach the subject from a totally opposite point to our own. They
read the earlier chapters of St. Luke and St. Matthew, and openly
marvel that any mind can believe what to them appears to be palpa
ble mythology ; or they hear the story of one of Christ's rniracles of
power — the walking on the Sea of Galilee, or turning the water into
wine — and scarcely conceal their insinuated misgiving as to honesty
of those who can accept such narratives as true. Poubtless we
should share their convictions in these respects, if we approached the
subject in the same spirit and by the same avenues. To show that
we do not and why we do not so approach it, is — incidentally at
least — one of the objects of this book.
The sceptic — and let me here say at once that I hope to use no
single word of anger or denunciation against a scepticism which I

6 PREFACE.
know to be in many cases perfectly honest and self-sacrificingly
noble — approaches the examination of the question from a point of
view the very opposite to that of the believer. He looks at the
majestic order and apparently unbroken uniformity of Law, until
the Universe becomes to him but the result mechanically evolved
from tendencies at once irreversible and self-originated. To us such
a conception is wholly inconceivable. Law to us involves the neces
sity of postulating a Law-giver, and " Nature," which we only use
as an unscientific and imaginative synonym for the sum total of
observed phenomena, involves in our conceptions the Divine Power
of whose energy it is but the visible translucence. We believe that
the God and Creator of " Nature " has made Himself known to us,
if not by a primitive intuition, at any rate by immediate revelation
to our hearts and consciences. And therefore such narratives as
those to which I have alluded are not nakedly and singly presented
to us in all their unsupported and startling difficulty. To us they
are but incidental items in a faith which lies at the very bases of our
being — they are but fragments of that great whole which comprises
all that is divine and mysterious and supernatural in the two great
words, Christianity and Christendom. And hence, though we no
longer prominently urge the miracles of Christ as the proofs of our
religion, yet, on the other hand, we cannot regard them as stumbling-
blocks in the path of an historical belief. We study the sacred books
of all the great religions of the world ; we see the effect exercised by
those religions on the minds of their votaries ; arid in spite of all the
truths which even the worst of them enshrined, we watch the failure
of them aU to produce the inestimable blessings which we have our
selves enjoyed from infancy, which we treasure as dearly as our life,
and which we regard as solely due to the spread and establishment
of the faith we hold. We read the systems and treatises of ancient
philosophy, and in spite of all the great and noble elements in which
they abound, we see their total incapacity to console, or support, or
deliver, or regenerate the world. Then we see the Hght of Chris
tianity dawning like a tender dayspring amid the universal and
intolerable darkness. From the first, that new religion allies itself
with the world's utter feeblenesses, and those feeblenesses it shares ;

PREFACE. 1
yet without wealth, without learning, without genius, without arms,
without anything to dazzle and attract — the religion of outcasts and
exiles, of fugitives and prisoners — numbering among its earliest
converts not many wise, not many noble, not many mighty, but such
as the gaoler of Pliilippi, and the runaway slave of Colossse — with
no blessing apparently upon it save such as cometh from above —
with no light whatever about it save the light that comes from
heaven — it puts to flight kings and their armies; it breathes a new
life, and a new hope, and a new and unknown holiness into a guilty
and decrepit world. This we see ; and we see the work grow, and
increase, and become more and more irresistible, and spread " with
the gentleness of a sea that caresses the shore it covers." And
seeing this, we recaU the faithful principle of the wise and tolerant
Eabbi, uttered more than 1,800 years ago — "If this counsel or
this work be of men, it wiH come to nought ; but if it be of God,
ye cannot overthrow it, lest haply ye be found to fight against
God." *
And when we have thus been led to see and to beHeve that the
only religion in the world which has established the ideal of a per
fect holiness, and rendered common the attainment of that ideal, has
received in conspicuous measure the blessing of God, we examine its
truths with a deeper reverence. The record of these truths — the
record of that teaching which made them familiar to the world — we
find in the Gospel narrative. And that narrative reveals to us much
more. It not only furnishes us with an adequate reason for the
existence and for the triumphs of the faith we hold, but it also brings
home to us truths which affect our hearts and intellects no less power
fully than "the starry heavens above and the moral law within."
Taught to regard ourselves as children of God, and common brothers
in his great family of man, we find in the Gospels a revelation of
God in His Son which enables us to know Him more, and to trust
Him more absolutely, and to serve Him more faithfully, than all
which we can find in aU the other books of God, whether in Scrip
ture, or history, or the experience of life, or those unseen messages
which God has written on every individual heart. And finding that

1 Acts v. 38. 39.

8 PREFACE.
this revelation has been recorded by honest men in narratives which,
however fragmentary, appear to stand the test of history, and to
bear on the face of them every mark of transparent simpHcity
and perfect truthfulness — prepared for the reception of these glad
tidings of God's love in man's redemption by the facts of the
world without, and the experiences of the heart within — we thus
cease to find any overwhelming difficulty in the record that He
whom we believe to have been the Son of God — He who alone
has displayed on earth the transcendent miracle of a sinless life —
should have walked on the Sea of Galilee or turned the water into
wine. And when we thus accept the truth of the miracles they become to
us moral lessons of the prof oundest value. In considering the mira
cles of Jesus we stand in a wholly different position to the earlier
disciples. To them the evidence of the miracles lent an overwhelm
ing force to the teachings of the Lord ; they were as the seal of God
to the proclamation of the new kingdom. But to us who, for nine
teen centuries, have been children of that kingdom, such evidence is
needless. To the Apostles they were the credentials of Christ's
mission; to us they are but fresh revelations of His will. To us
they are works rather than signs, revelations rather than portents.
Their historical importance lies for us in the fact that without them
it would be impossible to account for the origin and spread of Chris
tianity. We appeal to them not to prove the truth of Christianity,
but to illustrate its dissemination. But though to us Christianity
rests on the basis of a Divine approval far more convincing than the
display of supernatural power — though to us the providence which
for these two millenniums has ruled the destinies of Christendom is
a miracle far more stupendous in its evidential force than the raising
of the dead or the enlightenment of the blind — yet a belief in these
miracles enables us to solve problems which would otherwise be
insolvable, as well as to embrace moral conceptions which would
otherwise have found no illustration. To one who rejects them  to
one who befieves that the loftiest morals and the divinest piety which
mankind has ever seen were evoked by a religion which rested on

PREFACE. 9
errors or on lies — the world's history must remain, it seems to me, a
hopeless enigma or a revolting fraud.1
6. Referring to another part of the subject, I ought to say I do
not regard as possible any final harmony of the Gospels. Against
any harmony which can be devised some plausible objection could
be urged. On this subject no two writers have ever been exactly
agreed, and this alone is sufficient to prove that the Gospel notices of
chronology are too incomplete to render certainty attainable. I have,
of course, touched directly, as weU as indirectly, on such questions as
the length of the ministry ; and wherever the narrative required some
clear and strong reason for adopting one view rather than another, on
some highly disputed point — such, for instance, as the Feast alluded
to in John v. 1 — I have treated the question as fully as was consist
ent with brevity, and endeavored to put the reader in possession of
the main facts and arguments on which the decision rests. But it
would have been equally unprofitable and idle to encumber my pages
with endless controversy on collateral topics which, besides being
dreary and needless, are such as admit of no final settlement. In
deciding upon a particular seqrrence of events, we can only say that
such a sequence appears to us a probable one, not by any means that
we regard it as certain. In every instance I have carefully examined
the evidence for myself, often compressing into a few lines, or even
1 " Que la philosophic est ingdnieuse et profonde dans ses conjectures !" writes
De Lamennais in his scornful style. " Comme les evenemens qui paraissaient les
plus extraordinaires, deviennent simple des qu'elle daigne les expliquer I Vous
ne concevez pas que le Christianisme se soit propage" naturellement : elle va vous
le faire comprendre. Les Ap6tres ont dit, ' Nous vous annonpons l'Evangile au
nom de l'Eternel, et vous devez nous croire, car nous sommes doues du pouvoir
miraculeux. Nous rendons la sante" aux malades, aux perclus 1'usage de leurs
membres, la vue aux aveugles, l'ouie aux sourds, la vie aux morts.' A ce discours
le peuple est accouru de toutes parts, pour ©tre t&noin des miracles promis avec
tant de confiance. Les malades n'ont point e"te gueris, les perclus n'ont point
marche", les aveugles n'ont point vu, les sourds n'ont point entendu, les morts n'ont
point ressuscite. Alors, transports d'admiration, le peuple est tombe" aux pieds
des ApStres, et s'est e"crie, 'Ceux-ci sont manifestement les envoyes de Dieu,"les
ministres de sa puissance ! ' et sur le champ brisant ses idoles, il a quitte" le culte
des plaisirs pour le culte de la croix ; il a renonee" & ses habitudes, §, ses pre"juges,
a ses passions ; il a reforme" ses mceurs et embrasse- la penitence ; les riches ont
vendu leurs biens, pour en distribuer le prix aux indigens, et tous ont pre"fere les
plus horribles tortures et une mort inf&me aux remords d'abandonner une religion
qui leur e"tait si solidement prouve"e." (Ess. sur I' Indifference, iv. 458.) 4
2

10 PREFACE.
into an incidental allusion, the results of a long inquiry. To some
extent I agree with Stier and Lange in the order of events which
they have adopted, and in this respect, as well as for my first insight
into the character of several scenes (acknowledged in their place), I
am perhaps more indebted to the elaborate work of Lange than to
any others who have written on the same subject. When an author
is writing from the results of independent thought on the sum total
of impressions formed during a course of study, it is not always pos
sible to acknowledge specific obligations ; but whenever I was con
sciously indebted to others, I have, throughout the book, referred
especially to Ewald, Neander, Schenkel, Strauss, Hase, Sepp, Stier,
Ebrard, Wieseler, Hofmann, Keim, Caspari, Ullmann, Delitzsch, De
Pressense, Wallon, Dupanloup, Capecelatro, Ellicott, Young, An
drews, Wordsworth, Alf ord, and many others ; as weU as to older
writers like Bonaventura and Jeremy Taylor. I have also to
acknowledge the assistance which I have gained from the writings
of Dean Stanley, Canons Lightf oot and Westcott, Professor Plumptre,
Dr. Ginsburg, Mr. Grove, and the authors of articles in the Encyclo
paedias of Ersch and Grube, Herzog, Zeller, Winer, and Dr. W.
Smith. Incidental lights have of course been caught from various
archaeological treatises, as well as works of geography and travel,
from the old Itineraries and Reland down to Dr. Thomson's Land
and Booh, and Mr. Hepworth Dixon's Holy Land.
7. It is needless to add that this book is almost wholly founded on
an independent study of the four Gospels side by side. In quoting
from them I have constantly and intentionally diverged from the
English version, because my main object has been to bring out and
explain the scenes as they are described by the original witnesses.
The minuter details of those scenes, and therewith the accuracy of
our reproduction of them, depend in no small degree upon the discov
ery of the true reading, and the delicate observance of the true usage
of words, particles, and tenses. It must not be supposed for a mo
ment that I offer these translations — which are not unfrequently
paraphrases — as preferable to those of the English version, but only
that, consistently with the objects which I had in view, I have aimed
at representing with more rigid accuracy the force and meaning of

PREFACE. 11
the true text in the original Greek. It will be seen, too, that I have
endeavored to glean in illustration all that is valuable or tinistworthy
in Josephus, in the Apocryphal Gospels, and in traditional particu
lars derived from the writings of the Fathers.
8. Some readers will perhaps be surprised by the frequency of the
allusions to Jewish literature. Without embarking on " the sea of
the Talmud" (as the Rabbis themselves call it) — a task which would
require a lifetime — a modern reader may find not only the amplest
materials, but probably all the materials it can offer for the illustra
tion of the Gospel history, in the writings not of Christians only, but
also of learned and candid Rabbis. Not only in the well-known
treatises of Lightfoot, Schottgen, Surenhuys, Wagenseil, Buxtorf,
Otho, Reland, Budaeus, Gfrorer, Herzfeld, McCaul, Etheridge, but
also in those of Jews by birth or religion, or both, like Geiger,
Jost, Gratz, Derenbourg, Munk, Frankl, Deutsch, Raphall, Schwab,
Cohen, any one may find large quotations from the original authori
ties collected as well by adversaries as by reverent and admiring stu
dents. Further, he may read the entire Mishna (if he have the time
and patience to do so) in the Latin version of Surenhusius, and may
now form his judgment respecting large and important treatises even
of the Gemara, from such translations as the French one of the Bera-
ch6th by M. Moiise Schwab. I have myself consulted all the author
ities here named, and have gained from them much information
which seems to me eminently useful. Their researches have thrown
a flood of light on some parts of the Gospels, and have. led me to
some conclusions which, so far as I am aware, are new. I have,
indeed, in the second Excursus of the Appendix, shown that nothing
of the slightest importance can be gleaned from the Talmudists
about our Lord Himself. The real value of the Rabbinic writings
in illustrating the Gospels is indirect, not direct — archaeological, not
controversial. The light which they throw on the fidelity of the
Evangelists is all the more valuable because it is derived from a
source so unsuspected and so hostile.1
9. If in any part of this book I have appeared to sin against the
1 1 take this opportunity of saying that the reader will not find in the following
pages any one rigid or uniform system of transliteration of Hebrew words into
English. This is due to the fact that, in most instances, my references to the

12 PREFACE.
divine law of charity, I must here ask pardon for it. But at least I
may say that whatever trace of, asperity may be found in any page
of it, has never been directed against men, but against principles, or
only against those men or classes of men in long-past ages whom we
solely regard as the representatives of principles. It is possible that
this book may fall into the hands of some Jewish readers, and to
these particularly I would wish this remark to be addressed. I have
reason to believe that the Jewish race have long since learnt to look
with love and reverence on Him whom their fathers rejected ; nay,
more, that many of them, convinced by the irrefragable logic of his
tory, have openly acknowledged that He was indeed their promised
Messiah, although they still reject the belief in His divinity. I see,
in the writings of many Jews, a clear conviction that Jesus, to whom
they have quite ceased to apply the terms of hatred found in the
Talmud, was at any rate the greatest religious Teacher, the highest
and noblest Prophet whom their race produced. They, therefore,
would be the last to defend that greatest crime in history — the Cru
cifixion of the Son of God. And while no Christian ever dreams
of visiting upon them the horror due to the sin of their ancestors,
so no Jew will charge the Christians of to-day with looking with
any feeling but that of simple abhorrence on the long, cruel, and
infamous persecutions to which the ignorance and brutality of past
ages have subjected their great and noble race. We may humbly
believe that the day is fast approaching when He whom the Jews
crucified, and whose divine revelations the Christians have so often
and so grievously disgraced, will break down the middle wall of
partition between them, and make both races one in religion, in
heart, and life — Semite and Aryan, Jew and Gentile, united to bless
and to evangelize the world.
Talmud have been derived from the numerous sources mentioned in the above
paragraphs, and in referring such passages to the author who is responsible for
their accuracy, I have generally adopted his mode of spelling. Scripture names
I have mostly left in the form in which they occur in our English version ; and
in many terms that have acquired a common currency, like Mishna, Gemara, Tal
mud, &c, I have left the words in the shape most usually adopted. Besides these
sources of difference there may doubtless be others *' quas aut incuria fudit aut
humana parum cavit natura." 6 For these errors, where they occur, as well as for
all others, I must ask the indulgence of the candid reader, who will appreciate
the difficulties of a task accomplished under conditions far from favorable.

PREFACE. 13
10. One task alone remains — the pleasant task of thanking those
friends to whose ready aid and sympathy I owe so much, and who
have surrounded with happy memories and obligations the comple
tion of my work. First and foremost, my heartiest and sincerest
thanks are due to my friends, Mr. C. J. Monro, late Fellow of
Trinity College, Cambridge, and Mr. R. Garnett, of the British
Museum. They have given me an amount of time and attention
which leaves me most largely indebted to their unselfish generosity ;
and I have made claims on their indulgence more extensive than I
can adequately repay. To my old pupil, Mr. H. J. Boyd, late scholai
of Brasenose College, Oxford, I am indebted for the table of Con
tents. I have also to thank the Rev. Professor Plumptre and Mr.
George Grove not only for the warm interest which they have taken
in my work, but also for some valuable suggestions. There are many
others, not here named, who will believe, without any assurance from
me, that I am not ungrateful for the help which they have rendered ;
and I must especially offer my best acknowledgments to the Rev. T.
Teignmouth Shore — but for whose kind encouragement the book
would not have been undertaken — and to those who with so much
care and patience have conducted it through the press.
And now I send these pages forth not knowing what shall befall
them, but with the earnest prayer that they may be blessed to aid
the cause of truth and righteousness, and that He in whose namo
they are written may; of His mercy,
" Forgive them where they fail in truth,
And in His wisdom make me wise."
F. W. F.
The Lodge, Marlbobough College,
Monday before Easter, 1874.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES.

The following {without any attempt at completeness in the list) are some of the boohs
and editions frequently referred to in this work: —

Akerman, Numism. lllustr. of the New
Testament. London, 1846.
Alford, Greek Testament. Second Edi
tion. London, 1854.
Andrews, Bible Student's Life of our
Lord. London, 1867.
Bengel, Ghnomon. Second Edition. Tu
bingen, 1759.
Bible Educator, The. London, 1874.
Bloomfield, Greek Testament. Eighth
Edition, 1850.
Bonaventura, Vita Ghristi.
Browne, H., Ordo Saeclorwn. London,
1844.
Browning, R., A Death in the Desert.
Bruce, Training of the Twelve.
Budaeus, Philosoph. Hebraeorum. 1720.
Buxtorf, Lexicon TaVrnudicum.
 8ynag. Judaica. Basle, 1661.
Capecelatro, La Vita di Gesil Crista.
Napoli, 1868.
Caspari, Chronologische-Geographische
Einleitung in das Leben Jesu.
Hamburg, 1869.
Cohen, Les Deicides. E. Tr. London,
1872.
Cowper, B. H., The Apocryphal Gospels.
Davidson, Introd. to New Testament.
2 vols. London, 1868.
Delitzsch, F., Jesus und Hillel. Erlan-
gen, 1867.
De Pressense, Jesus Christ.
Derenbourg, L Mist, et la GSogr. de la
Palestine d'aprds les Tlialmuds.
Paris, 1867.
De Saulcy, Hist. d'Herode. Paris, 1872.
Deutsch, Literary Remains [The Tal
mud, &c.]. London, 1874.
Dixon, W. Hepworth, The Holy Land.
2 voIb. London, 1865.
Dollinger, The Jew and the Gentile. E.
Tr. 2 vols.
 The First Age of the Church.
Second Edition. London, 1867.
Dupanloup, Hist, de Notre Sauveur
Jesus Christ. Paris, 1870.
Ebrard, Gospel History. Edinb., 1869.
Ecae Homo. 1867.
Ellicott, Bishop, Historical Lectures on
the Life of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Fifth Edition. London, 1869.
Etheridge, Introduction to Hebrew Liter
ature. London, 1858.

Ewald, Geschiahte Christus und seiner
Zeit [Gesch. des Volkes Israel.
V.). Dritte Ausgabe. Gottingen,
1867.
Frankl, The Jews in the East. E. Tr.
London, 1859.
Gaussen, Theopneustia. E. Tr. Lon
don, 1866.
GfrOrer, Das Jahrhundert des Heils.
Stuttgard, 1838.
Glass, Philologia Sacra. Amsterdam,
1694.
Graetz, Geschiahte des Juden.
Guder, Konig Her odes der Grosse.
Guizot, Meditations sur V Esprit de Chris-
tianisme.
Hanna, Dr., Life of Jesus. 1869.
Hanson, Sir R., The Jesus of History,
London, 1869.
Hase, Leben Jesu. Fwnfte Auflage.
Leipzig, 1865.
Hervey, Rev. Lord A., (Bishop of Bath
and Wells), The Genealogies of
Our Lord. Cambridge, 1853.
Herzfeld, Geschiahte des Volkes Israel.
Herzog, Encyclopedia. E. Tr. Ed
Bomberger, 1860.
Hilgenfeld, Messia Judaeorum. Leipzig
1869.
Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu nach den Apo
kryphen. Leipzig, 1851.
Jahn, Hebrew Commonwealth. London
1828.
 Archaeologia Biblica. Third Edi
tion. E. Tr. Oxford, 1836.
Josephus, Antiquitates Judaieae, Bel-
lum Judaieum, Vita Contra
Apionem. Edit. Richter, 1826,
and Whiston's Translation.
Jost, Geschiahte des Judenthums.
Judged by His Words.
Keim, Geschiahte Jesu von Nazara. Zu
rich, 1867.
Kitto, Biblical Cyclopaedia. Third Edi
tion. Edinburgh, 1862.
, Leben Jesu. E. Tr. 6 vols.
Edinburgh, 1864.
Lightfoot, Horae Hebraieae. Cantab.,
1658.
Lightfoot, The Revision of the New Tes
tament.
Lynch, Exploration of the Jordan and
Dead Sea. Philadelphia, 1849.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES.

15

Madden, History of Jewish Coinage.
London, 1864.
Maurice, Unity of the New Testament.
London, 1854.
McCaul, The Old Paths.
McGregor, The Rob Roy on the Jordan.
Messiah, The. London, 1864.
Mill, Mythical Interpretation of the Gos
pels. Cambridge, 1861.
Milman, History of Christianity.
Monod, Adolphe, Enfance de Jesus.
Munk, Palestine. Didot frSres. Paris.
Neander, The Life of Jesus Christ. E.
Tr. 1869.
Otho, Lexicon Rabbinicum.
Pearson, On the Greed. Twenty-first
Edition. London, 1839.
Perrone, Joan, De D. N. Jesu Christi
Divinitate. Turin, 1870.
Plumptre, Christ and Christendom.
Boyle Lectures. London, 1866.
Porter, J. L., Handbook for Syria and
Palestine. London, 1868.
Raphall, History of the Jews.
Reland, Antiq. Hebraicae. Ed. 3. 1717.
 Analecta Rabbinica. 1711.
Renan, Vie de Jesus. 13me ed. Paris,
1867.
 L'Antechrist. Paris, 1873.
Robinson, Biblical Researches. Boston,
1856.
Salvador, J., Jesus Christ et sa Doctrine.
Two vols. Paris, 1861.
Sanday, T7ie Authorship and Historical
Character of the Fourth Gospel.
London, 1872.
Schenkel, Character of Jesus. E. Tr.
London, 1869.
Schleusner, Lex. Nov. lestamenti. Third
Edition. Leipzig, 1808.
Schottgen, Horae Hebraicae. Dresden,
1733.
Scott, English Life of Jesus.
Scrivener, Introduction to the Criticism
of the New Testament. Cambridge,
1861.
Sepp, Das Leben Jesu. Regensburg,
1852-62.

Smith, Dictionary of the Bible. London,
1860.
Stanley, Sinai and Palestine. London,
1866.
Stier, R., Reden Jesu. 8 vols. E. Tr.
Edinburgh, 1855.
Strauss, Leben Jesu ; and A New Life of
Jesus. E. Tr. London, 1865.
Surenhusius, Mischna. 6 vols., fol. Am
sterdam, 1700.
Thomson, The Land andthe Book. New
York, 1859.
Tischendorf, Synopsis Evangelica. Ed.
Tert. Leipzig, 1871.
Trench, On the Miracles. Ninth Edition,
1870.
 On the Parables. Tenth Edition,
1866.
 Sermon on the Mount.
 Studies in the Gospels.
Turpie, The Old Testament in the New.
London, 1868-1872.
Ullmann, Die Sundlosigkeit Jesu. Gotha,
1863. 7** Aufl.
 Historisch oder Mythisch ? 2U Aufl.
Gotha, 1866.
Waehner's Antiq. Hebraicae. 2 vols.
Gottingen, 1742.
Wagenseil, Tela Ignea Satanae. 2 vols.
Altdorf, 1861.
Wallon, H., Vie de Notre Seigneur
, Jesus Christ. Paris, 1865.
Westcott, Introduction to the Study of
the Gospels. Third Edition,
1867.
 Characteristics of the Gospel Mira
cles. Cambridge, 1859.
 Gospel of the Resurrection. Lon
don, 1866.
Wieseler, Synopsis of the Four Gospels.
E. Tr. Cambridge, 1864.
Williams, The Nativity. London, 1844.
Winer, Realworterbuch. Leipzig, 1847.
 Grammar of the New Testament.
E. Tr. Sixth Edition, 1866.
Wordsworth, Bishop, The Four Gospels
Seventh Edition. London, 1870.
Young, The Christ of History.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
The Nativity. page.
The Fields of the Shepherds.. — An Eastern Khan. — The Cave of Bethlehem.
— The Enrolment. — Joseph and Mary. — "No room for them in the
Inn." — The Manger and the Palace. — The Nativity. — Adoration of
the Shepherds. — Fancy and Reality. — Contrast of the Gospels and the
Apocrypha ... 31
CHAPTER II.
The Presentation in the Temple.
Four Circumstances'of the Infancy. — Order of Events. — The Circumcision. —
The name Jesus. — The Presentation in the Temple. — Simeon. — Anna - 43
CHAPTER III.
The Visit of the Magi.
Importance of the Epiphany. — Herod the Great. — "Magi." — Traditions. —
Causes of their Journey. — General Expectation of the World. — The Star
in the East. — Astronomical Conjectures of Kepler, &c. — Evanescent
Stars.— Gifts of the Magi - - - 48
CHAPTER IV.
The Flight into Egypt, and Massacbe of the Innocents.
Departure of the Magi. — Legends of the Flight into Egypt. — Massacre of the
Innocents. — Its Historical Credibility. — Character of Herod the Great.—
Silence of Josephus. — Death and Burial of Herod the Great. — The Spell
of the Herodian Dominion broken. — Accession of Archelaus. — Settle
ment in Galilee. - • 57
CHAPTER V.
The Boyhood of Jesus.
Geography of Palestine. — Galilee. — Nazareth. — Reticence of the Evangelists.
— Truthfulness of the Gospels. — Contrasted with Apocryphal Legends.
— Life of Galilaaan Peasants. — Imagination and Fact. — " He shall be
called a Nazarene." ... . 67

18 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
Jesus in The Temple. page.
Jesus Twelve years old. — Journey fronf Nazareth to Jerusalem. — Scenes by
the Way. — Numbers of Passover Pilgrims. — Jesus missing from the
Caravan.— The Search.— Rabbis in the Temple. — "Hearing them and
asking them questions." — " Why did ye seek Me 1 " — " They understood
not." — Submissiveness. - - 77
CHAPTER VII.
The Home at Nazaeeth.
"The Carpenter." — Dignity of Poverty. — Dignity of Toil. — The Common
Lot. — Wisdom better than Knowledge. — Originality. — The Language
spoken by Jesus. — The Books of God. — Jesus in His Home. — Work and
Example of those Years  Peacefulness. — "The brethren of the Lord."
— Solitude. — The Hill-top at Nazareth. — Plain of Esdraelon. — Central-
ity of Palestine. -  -86
CHAPTER VIII.
The Baptism of John.
Characteristics of the Age. — Darkness deepest before Dawn. — Asceticism. —
John the Baptist. — His Character. — His Teaching. — His Audience. —
Scene of His Teaching. — His Message. — Bearing of John in the Pres
ence of Jesus. — Why Jesus was baptized. — Recognition as the Messiah. 103
CHAPTER IX.
The Temptation.
Quarantania. — "With the wild beasts." — " Forty, days." — The Moment of
Exhaustion. — Reality of the Temptation. — " Tempted like as we are." —
Fasting. — Lapides Judaici. —The First Temptation. — Subtlety of it. —
"Not by bread alone." — The Suggested Doubt. — The Order of the
Temptations. — The Temple Pinnacle. — The Tempter's Quotation. —
The Splendid Offer. — The Roman Emperor. — The Victory - - -113
CHAPTER X.
The Fibst Apostles.
St. John's Gospel. — "The Lamb of God." — Andrew and John. — Simon. —
Appearance and Personal Ascendency of Jesus. — Philip, — Nathanael.
— "Come and see." — "Under the fig-tree." — " Angels ascending and
descending." -  127
CHAPTER XI.
The Fibst Miracle.
"On the third day." — An Eastern Bridal. — "They have no wine.'" — The
Answer to the Virgin. — The Miracle. — Characteristics of this and other
Miracles. - . 141

CONTENTS. 19
CHAPTER XII.
The Scene of the Ministry. page
Contrast between the Sea of Galilee and the Jordan Valley. — Beauty of Gen-
nesareth. — Character of the Scenery. — Its Present Desolation and Past
Populousness. — Prophecy of Isaiah. — Centrality. — Christ's Teaching
there. — Site of Capernaum --...  150
CHAPTER XIII.
Jesus at the Passover.
Visit to Jerusalem. — Purification of the Temple. — State of the Court of the
Gentiles. — Crowd of Traders. — Indignation of Jesus. — Why they did
not dare to resist. — Question of the Rulers. — "Destroy this temple." —
Impression made by the Words. — Their deep Significance. — Extent to
which they were understood - - . . . - 157
CHAPTER XIV.
Nicodemus.
Talmudic Allusions to Nicodemus. — His Character. — Indirectness of his
Questions. — Discourse of Jesus. — His Disciples Baptize. — Continued
Baptism of John. — Jilnon, near Salim. — Complaint of John's Disciples.— <¦
Noble and Sad Reply  166
CHAPTER XV.
The Woman of Samaria.
Retirement of Jesus to Galilee. — Sychar. — Noontide at the Well. — The
Scene. — Conversation with the Woman. — Jerusalem and Gerizim. — :
Revelation of Messiahship. — Return of Disciples. — The Fields White
unto Harvest. — Believing Samaritans - 172
CHAPTER XVI.
Rejected by the Nazaeenes.
Sequence of Events. — A perfect "Harmony" impossible. — A Prophet in
his own Country. — A Jewish Synagogue. — Nature of the Service.—
Sermon of Jesus. — Change of Feeling in the Audience. — Their Fury. —
Escape of Jesus. — Finally leaves Nazareth .... 180
CHAPTER XVII.
The Beginning of the Galilean Ministry.
The Courtier's Entreaty. — His Faith. — Sequence of Events. — St. John and
the Synoptists. — Jesus stays at Capernaum. — His First Sabbath there. —
Preaches in the Synagogue. — The Demoniac. — Peter's Mother-in-law. —
The Evening. — Eagerness of the Multitude. — His Privacy invaded. —
Preaches from the Boat. — Call of Peter, James, and John. — " Depart
from me." — Publicans. — The Publican Apostle  189

20 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Twelve, and the Sermon on the Mount. page.
A Night of Prayer. — Selection of the Twelve. — Conjectures respecting
them. — James and John. — Peter. — Ktlrn Hatttn. — Contrast with Moses
on Sinai. — Beatitudes. — Sketch of the Sermon on the Mount. — " Not as
the Scribes." — Authority. — Christ and other Masters. — Perfection. —
Beauty and Simplicity - ... 202
CHAPTER XIX.
Furthee Miracles.
A man full of Leprosy. — Violation of the Letter. — Why was Publicity for
bidden ? — Deputation of Batlantm. — Message of the Centurion. — Pres
sure of the Ministry. — The Interfering Kinsmen ... 219
CHAPTER XX.
Jesus at Nain.
Nain. — A Funeral. — The Widow's Son Raised. — Message from John the
Baptist. — Overclouding of his Faith. — How accounted for. — Machserus.
— God's Trial of His Servants. — Answer of Jesus. — Splendid Eulogy of
John.— "The least in the kingdom of heaven" 227
CHAPTER XXI.
The Sinnee and the Pharisee.
Simon the Pharisee. — Jewish Customs at Meals. — The Weeping Woman. 
Simon's Disgust. — Answer of Jesus. — Parable of the Debtors. — Cold
Courtesy of Simon. — Pardoning of Sins. — Was it Mary of Magdala? 235
CHAPTER XXII.
Jesus as He lived in Galilee.
A Scene in Galilee. — Jesus and His Followers. — His Aspect. — A Life of
Poverty — of Toil — of Health — of Sorrow — and yet of Holy Joy - 243
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Geeat Day in the Life of Jesus.
Order of Events. — Teaching from the Boat. — Parables. — Parable of the
Sower. — Other Parables. — Effect Produced. — Urgent Desire for Rest 
The Eastern Shore. — The Three Aspirants. — The Storm.  " What
manner of Man is this ? " — Miracles.— Gergesa.— The Naked Demoniac
from the Tombs. — *' Thy name." — Loss of the Swine. — Alarm of the
Gadarenes. — Their Request. — Request of the Demoniac . 252
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Day of Matthew's Feast.
Return to Capernaum. — The Paralytic let through the Roof.  " Thy sins be
forgiven thee." — Feast in Matthew's House. — Scorn of the Pharisees. 
Question about Fasting. — The New Wine and the Old . . ogo

CONTENTS. 21
CHAPTER XXV.
The Day of Matthew's Feast (continued). PAGE.
Jairus. — The Woman with the Issue. — The Touch of Faith. — Message to
Jairus. — The Hired Mourners. — Raising of Jairus's Daughter. — The
Blind Men. — They disobey Christ's Injunction.  274
CHAPTER XXVI.
A Visit to Jebusabbm.
Phases of the Ministry. — Mission of the Twelve. — Their Instructions. — A
Feast of the Jews. — Arrangement of St. John. — Days of Jewish Feasts.
— Nature of the Purim Feast. — Reason" for Christ's Presence. - -279
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Mibacle at Bethesda.
Pool of Bethesda. — Interpolated Verse. — Healing of the Impotent Man. —
Jealous Questioning. — Sabbath-breaking. — The Man's Meanness. — Anger
of the Rulers. — Answer of Jesus. — Dangerous Results. .... 286
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Murder of John the Baptist.
Return to Galilee. — Herod Antipas. — Herodias. — Consequences of the Adul
terous Marriage. — Credulity and Unbelief. — The Banquet. — Salome. —
Her Request. — Murder of the Baptist. — Herod's Remorse. — He inquires
about Jesus. — Ultimate Fate of Herod.  • 295
CHAPTER XXIX.
The Feeding of the Five Thousand, and Walking on the Sea.
Bethsaida Julias. — Hungry Multitude. — Miracle of the Loaves. — Excitement
of the Multitude. — Dismissal of the Disciples. — Jesus alone on the
Mountain. — The Disciples alone in the Storm. — "It is I." — Peter's Bold
ness and Failure. — Nature of the Miracle. ... . 305
CHAPTER XXX.
The Discourse at Capernaum.
Astonished Query of the Multitude.— Reproof of Jesus.— They ask for a
Sign.  His Answer. — The Bread of Life. — Their Dull Materialism. —
Their Displeasure. — Abandonment of Jesus. — Sad Question to the Dis
ciples. — Answer of Peter. — Warning to Judas. - - - - - 314
CHAPTER XXXI.
Gathering Opposition. i
Gathering Clouds.— 1. "Thy sins be forgiven thee." 2. "A gluttonous
man and a winebibber." 3. " Thy disciples fast not." 4. "With pub
licans and sinners." — "Mercy, not sacrifice." — The Prodigal Son. —
Religionism and Religion.— 5. Charges of violating the Sabbath. — Jew
ish Traditions.— Abh6th and ToldSth.— i. In the Corn-fields.— Analogy
of David's Conduct.— "No Sabbatism in the temple."— Incident in the

22 CONTENTS.
PAGE.
Coded Bezae. — ii. The Stone-mason with the Withered Hand. — Good or
Evil on the Sabbath? — The Objectors foiled. — Unwashen Hands. —
Jewish Ablutions. — " Your tradition." — The Oral Law. — Hagad6th and
Halach6th. — "That which cometh from within." — Evil Thoughts - 822
CHAPTER XXXII.,
Deepening Opposition.
Agitations of the Life of Jesus. — Prayer at Dawn. — The Lord's Prayer. —
Parable of the Importunate Friend. — Lights and Shadows of the Life of
Jesus. — The Blind and Dumb Demoniac. — Exorcism. — Slander of the
Scribes. — Beelzebub. — Answer of Jesus. — Warning against Light Words.
— Who are truly blessed? — " Master, we would see a sign. "— Sign of
the Prophet Jonah. — Interference of His Kinsmen .... 342
» , CHAPTER XXXIII.
The Day of Conflict.
Alone with Pharisees at the Midday Meal. — Unwashen Hands. — Reproof
of Jesus. — The Lawyers included in the Reproof. — Spurious Civility. —
Open Rupture. — Danger of Jesus. — He goes out to the Multitude. —
Denunciation of Hypocrisy. — Foolish Appeal. — The Parable of the Rich
Fool. — Peter's Question.-^- Jesus troubled in Spirit. ... 351
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Among the Heathen.
The Region of Tyre and Sydon. — The Syro-phoenician Woman. — Her Peti
tion apparently rejected. — Her exalted Faith. — Her Faith rewarded. 
Heathen Lands. — Return to Decapolis. — Deaf and Dumb Man. — " Eph-
phatha ! " — Reception by the Multitudes. — Feeding of the Four Thousand 358
CHAPTER XXXV.
The Great Confession.
Reception of Jesus on His return to Galilee. — An ill-omened Conjunction. 
Bemand of a Sign. — Reproof and Refusal. — Sadness of Jesus. — He sails
away. — The Prophetic Woe. — Leaven of the Pharisees and of Herod. 
Literal Misinterpretation of the Apostles. — Healing of a Blind Man at
Bethsaida Julias. — On the road to Csesarea Philippi. — The Momentous
Questions. — "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God."  The
Rock. — Foundation of the Church. — Misinterpretations.  Warnings
about His Death — Rash Presumption of Peter. — " Get thee behind me,
Satan." — The Worth of the' Human Soul. — " The Son of Man coming in
His Kingdom" . - - - 364
CHAPTER XXXVI.
The Transfiguration.
The Mountain. — Not Tabor, but Hermon. — The Vision. — Moses and Elias.—
Bewildered Words of Peter. — The Voice from Heaven. — Fading of the
Vision. — The New Elias - . - ... 3gQ

CONTENTS. 23
CHAPTER XXXVII.
The Demoniac Boy. page.
The Contrast. — The Disciples and the Scribes. — Arrival of Jesus. — The
Demoniac Boy . — Emotion of Jesus. — Anguish of the father. — "If thou
canst." — The Deliverance. — Power of Faith to remove Mountains. —
Secluded Return of Jesus. — Sad Warnings. — Dispute which should be
the Greatest. — The Little Child. — John's Question. — Offending Christ's
Little Ones.— The Unforgiving Debtor - . - - - 386
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
A Brief Rest in Capernaum.
The Temple Tax. — The Collectors come to Peter. — His rash Answer. —
Jesus puts the Question in its true light. — The Stater in the Fish's
Mouth. — Peculiar Characteristics of this Miracle - ' - - 392
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Jesus at the Feast of Tabebnacles.
Observances of the Feast of Tabernacles. — Presumption of the Brethren of
Jesus. — "I go not up yet unto this feast." — Eager Questions of the
Multitude. — Their differing Opinions. — Jesus appears in the Temple. —
His reproachful Question. — " Thou hast a devil." — Appeal to His Works.
— Indignation of the Sanhedrin. — Observances of the Last Day of the
Feast. — " The joy of the drawing of water." — " Rivers of Living Water."
— Divided Opinions. — " Never man spake like this Man." — Timid Inter
pellation of Nicodemus. — Answering Taunt of the Pharisees ... 396
CHAPTER XL.
The Woman taken in Adultery.
Question as to the Genuineness of the Narrative. — The Evidence on both
sides. — Jesus at the Mount of Olives. — Returns at Dawn to the Temple.
— Hilarity of the Feast. — Immorality of the Age. — The Water of
Jealousy. — Base Cruelty of the Pharisees. — The Woman dragged into
the Temple. — " What sayest Thou f " — Subtlety of the Assault. — Writing
on the Floor. — "Him that is without sin among you." — Conscience -
stricken. — Misery left alone with Mercy. — " Go, and sin no more." —
Absolute Calmness of Jesus under all Attacks. — Eighth Day of the
Feast. — The great Candelabra. — The Light of the World. — Agitating
Discussions with the Jews. — A burst of Fury. — Jesus leaves the
Temple - - - - - 406
CHAPTER XLI.
The Man Bobn Blind.
Jewish Notion of Nemesis. — " Which did sin?" — " Go wash in the Pool of
Siloam." — On the Sabbath Day. — The Man examined by the Sanhedrin
— A sturdy Nature. — Perplexity of the Sanhedrists. — "We know that
this man is a sinner." — Blandishments and Threats. — The Man Excom
municated. — Jesus and the Outcast. — True and False Shepherds . 419

24 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XLII.
Farewell to Galilee. page.
The Interval between the Feasts of Tabernacles and Dedication. — Great
Episode in St. Luke. — Character of the Episode. — Mission of the
Seventy. — News of the Galilseans massacred by Pilate. — Teachings
founded on the Event. — Stern Warnings. — The Barren Fig-tree. — The
Pharisees' Plot to hasten His Departure. — "Go and tell this fox." —
Herod Antipas. — Jesus sets forth. — Farewell to the Scene of His Minis
try. — Fate that fell on the Galilaeans. — Jesus exults in Spirit. — " Come
unto me all ye that labor." — Noble Joy  425
CHAPTER XLIII.
Incidents of the Joueney.
Possible Routes. — The Village of En-gannim. — Churlishness of the Samari
tans. — Passion of the Sons of Thunder. — Gentle Rebuke of Jesus. —
Counting the Cost. — Persea. — The Ten Lepers. — Thanklessness. — " Where
are the nine ?" -  - 436
CHAPTER XLIV.
Teachings of the Journey.
Sabbatical Disputes. — Foolish Ruler of the Synagogue. — Healing of the
Bowed Woman. — Aryumentum ad hominem. — Ignorant Sabbatarianism.
— Religious Espionage. — The Man with the Dropsy. — Question of Jesus.
— Silence of Obstinacy. — The Man Healed. — Self-sufficiency of the Phari
sees. — Struggles for Precedence. —A Vague Platitude. — Parable of the
King's Marriage-feast. — The Unj ust Steward. — Avarice of the Pharisees.
— Their Sycophancy to Herod. — The Rich Man and Lazarus. — ¦• Are there
few that be saved ? " — " What must I do to obtain Eternal Life ? "  The
Good Samaritan. — Return of the Seventy. — The Love of Publicans and
Sinners. — The Parable of the Prodigal Son. — Solemn Warnings. 
" Where, Lord ? " — The Eagles and the Carcass - . 442
CHAPTER XLV.
The Feast of Dedication.
The House at Bethany.— Martha and Mary.—" The one thing needful."— The
Chanukkah. — Solomon's Porch. — Reminiscence of the Feast. — Jesus
suddenly surrounded. — " How long dost thou hold us in suspense?" —
No Political Messiah.—" I and My Father are one."— They seek to stone
Him. — Appeal of Jesus to His Life and Works. — He retires to Bethany
beyond Jordan . _ _ 4»0
CHAPTER XL VI.
The Last Stay in Pee^sa.
Question about Divorce. — Importance of the Question. — Hillel and Shammai.
— Dispute as to the meaning of Ervath Dabhar. —Lax Interpretations.—
Both Schools wrong. — Simple solution of the question. — Permission of

CONTENTS. 1h
PAGE,
Divorce by Moses only temporary. — Corruption of the Age. — Teachings
of Jesus about Moral Purity. — Celibacy and Marriage. — Jesus blesses
Little Children. — The eager Young Ruler. — " Good Master." — "What
must I do?" — An'heroic Mandate. — "The Great Refusal." — Discourage
ment of the Disciples. — Hundredfold Rewards. — The Laborers in the
Vineyard - . - ... . . 467
CHAPTER XL VII.
The Raising of Lazaeus.
Message to Jesus . — Two Days' Delay. — "Let us also go that we may die
with Him — He approaches Bethany. — Martha meets him. — " The Resur
rection and the Life." — Mary's Agony. — Deep Emotion of Jesus. — Scene
at the Grave. — " Lazarus, come forth." — Silence of the Synoptists. —
Meeting at the House of Caiaphas. — His wicked Policy. — The Fiat of
Death. — Retirement to Ephraim - - 477
CHAPTER XLVIII.
Jeeicho and Bethany.
Pilgrim-caravans. — Jesus on his way. — Revelation of the Crowning Horror.
— The Sons of Zebedee. — The Cup and the Baptism. — Humility before
Honor. — Jericho. — Bartimaeus. — Zacchaeus. — His Repentance. — Parable
of the Pounds. — Events which suggested it. — Arrival at Bethany. —
" Simon the Leper." — Intentional Reticence of the Synoptists. — Mary's
Offering. — Inward Rage of Judas. — Blessing of Mary by Jesus. — " For
my burying." — Interview of the Traitor with the Priests - 486
CHAPTER XLIX
Palm Sunday.
Excitement of Expectation. — Three Roads to Bethany. — Bethphage. — The
Ass's Colt. — A humble Triumph. — Hosanna! — Turn of the Road. — The
Jerusalem of that Day. — Jesus weeps over the City. — Terrible Fulfil
ment of the Woe. — The Two Processions. — Indignation of the Phari
sees. — « Who is this 1" — Jesus once more cleanses the Temple. —
Hosannas of the Children. — " Have ye never read ?" — The Greeks
who desired an Interview. — Abgarus V. — Discourse of Jesus. — Voice
from Heaven. — The Day closes in Sadness. — Bivouac on the Mount of
Olives ... CHAPTER L.
Monday in Passion Week.— A Day of Pabables.
Jesus Hungers.— The Deceptive Fig.— Hopelessly Barren.— Criticisms on the
Miracle. —Right View of it. — Deputation of the Priests. — " Who gave
thee this authority ? " —Counter-question of Jesus.— The Priests reduced
to Silence. — Parable of the Two Sons. — Parable of the Rebellious
Husbandmen. — The Rejected Corner-stone.— Parable of the Marriage
of the King's Son. — Machinations of the Pharisees
4

498

510

26 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER LI.
The Day of Temptations. — The Last and Greatest Day of the
Public Ministry of Jesus. . page.
The Withered Fig- tree. — Power of Faith. — Plot of the Herodians. — Its
Dangerous Character. — The Tribute Money. — Divine and Ready Wisdom
of the Reply of Jesus. — Attempt of the Sadducees. — A poor Question of
Casuistry.— The Sevenfold Widow. — " As the Angels of God."— " The
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob." — Implicit Teaching of Immortality 520
CHAPTER LII.
The Great Denunciation.
" Master, thou has well said." — " Which is the great commandment ? " —
Answer of the Rabbis. — Answer of Jesus. — " Not far from the kingdom
of heaven." — Question of Jesus to the Scribes. — David's Son and David's
Lord. — Their Failure to Answer. — The Final Rupture. — " Woe unto
you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! " — The Voice which oroke in
Tears. — " 0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem I " — The Denunciation Deserved. —
The Denunciation Fulfilled - -  528
CHAPTER LIII.
Farewell to the Temple.
A happier Incident. — The poor Widow. — True Almsgiving. — Splendor of
the Temple. — " Not one stone upon another." — Jesus on the Mount of
Olives. — " When shall these things be ?" — The great Eschatological Dis
course. — The Two Horizons. — Difficulties of the Discourse, and mode of
meeting them. — What must come before the Final End. — The Immedi
ate Future. — Warning Signs. — Parable of the Fig-tree — of the Ten
Virgins — of the Talents. — After Two Days. — Last Evening Walk to
Bethany -  5gg
CHAPTER LIV.
The Beginning of the End.
Meeting of Conspirators in the Palace of Caiaphas. — Their Discussions.—
Judas demands an Interview. — Thirty pieces of Silver.  Motives of
Judas. — " Satan entered into Judas."— The Wednesday passed in Retire
ment. — Last Sleep of Jesus on Earth  540
CHAPTER LV.
The Last Supper.
• Green Thursday."— Preparations for the Meal. — The Upper Room. — Dis
pute about Precedence. — Jesus washes the Disciples' Feet.  Peter's
Surprise and Submission. — " Ye are clean, but not all." — Teaching about
Humility. — Troubled in Spirit. — " One of you shall betray me." — " Lord,
is it I?"— Peter makes a sign to John. — Giving of the Sop. — " Rabbi'
is it I ?" — " He went out, and it was night." — Revived Joy of the Feast.'
— Institution of the Lord's Supper ...... '_ gg.

CONTENTS. 27
CHAPTER LVI.
The Last Discourse. page.
"Now is the Son of Man glorified." — "Little Children." — The New Com
mandment. — "Lord, whither goest Thou?" — Warning to Peter.—
" Lord, here are two swords." — Consolations. — " How can we know the
way?" — "Lord, show us the Father." — Difficulty of Judas Lebbseus.—
Last Words before Starting. — The True Vine. — Plain Teachings. —
Gratitude of the Disciples. — Fresh Warnings to them. — The High-
Priestly Prayer - ...  5g5
CHAPTER LVII.
Gethsemane. — The Agony and the Aeeest.
Walk through the Moonlight to Gethsemane. — Last Warning to Peter. —
Gethsemane. — Scene of Agony. — Desire for Solitude and yet for Sym
pathy. — The First Struggle with Agony of Soul. — Its Intensity. — The
Bloody Sweat. — Not due to Dread of Death. — " Simon, sleepest thou ? " —
The Second Agony. — The Disciples Sleeping. — The Third Agony and
Final Victory. — " Sleep on now, and take your rest." — Torches in the
Moonlight. — Steps taken by Judas. — " Comrade." — The Traitor's Kiss.
— Jesus Advances. — " Whom seek ye ? " — "I am He." — Terror of the
Band. — Historical Parallels. — Jesus Arrested. — Peter's Blow. — " Suffer
ye thus far." — The Young Man in the Linen Sheet. — Jesus Bound and
Led away ... . gfg
CHAPTER LVIII.
Jesus before the Priests and the Sanhedrin.
Asserted Discrepancies. — Sixfold Trial. — " To Annas first." — Hanan, the
High Priest dejure. — His Character. — His Responsibility for the Result.
— Degradation of the then Sanhedrin. — Pharisees and Sadducees. —
Greater Cruelty of the Latter. — The Sadducees, the Priestly Party. —
Cause of their Rage and Hatred. — " The Viper Brood." — Jesus repudi
ates the Examination of Hanan. — "Answerest Thou the High Priest so ? "
— Noble Patience. — The Second Phase of the Trial. — In the Palace of
Caiaphas. — Committees of the Sanhedrin. — " Sought false witness."—
Total failure of the Witnesses. — " Destroy this Temple." — Silence of
Jesus. — Despair of Caiaphas. — His violent Adj uration. — Reply of Jesus.
— " Blasphemy." — " Ish maveth " • - 588
CHAPTER LIX.
The Interval between the Trials.
The First Derision . — The Outer Court. — John procures Admission for Peter.
— The First Denial. — The Second Denial. — The Galilsean Accent. —
The Third Denial. — The Look of Jesus. — The Repentance of Peter. —
Brutal Insults of the Menials. — The Dawn. — The Meeting of the
Sanhedrin. — Their Divisions. — Third Phase of the Trial. — A Contrast
of two Scenes before the Sanhedrin. — Jesus breaks His Silence. — The
Condemnation. — The Second Derision. — The Fate of Jesus - - 600

28 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER LX. •
Jesus before Pilate. page.
" Suffered under Pontius Pilate." — What is known of Pilate. — First Out
break of the Jews against him on his Arrival. — The Aqueduct and
the Corban. — The gilt Votive Shields. — The Massacre of Galilaeans. —
The Massacre of Samaritans. — The Palace of Herod. — Jesus in the Pal
ace. — Led before Pilate. — Pilate comes out to the Jews. — 1. His Roman
Contemptuousness. — Determines to try the Case. — Vagueness of the <v
Accusations. — " Art Thou the King of the Jews ? " — " What is. truth ? "
— First Acquittal. — 2. Fierceness of the Jews. — Jesus sent to Herod
Antipas. — Cruel Frivolity of Herod. — Second Acquittal. — 3. Last Phase
of the Trial. — Temporizing of Pilate. — Dream of his Wife  Cowardly
Concession. — Jesus or Bar- Abbas? — " Crucify Him." — The Scourging. —
Third Derision. — The Crown of Thorns. — "Behold the Man!" — ¦ Last
efforts of Pilate to save Him. — Last Warning to Pilate. — " The Son of
God." — " Behold your King." — Pilate terrified at the name of Caesar. —
He gives way. — He washes his Hands. — " His blood be on us, and on our
children I " — Fulfilment of the Imprecation. - - 61 1
CHAPTER LXI.
The Crucifixion.
"I, miles, expedi crucem." — Two Malefactors. — The Cross. — Procession to
Golgotha. — Simon of Cyrene. — The Daughters of Jerusalem. — The
Green and the Dry Tree. — Site of Golgotha. — The Medicated Draught. —
The Method of Crucifixion. — " Father, forgive them." — Agony of Cruci
fixion. — The Title on the Cross. — Rage of the Jews. — The Soldiers.—
Parting the Garments. — Insults of the Bystanders. — The Robber. —
Silence of the Sufferer. — The Penitent Robber. — " To-day shalt thou be
with me in Paradise. " — The Women from Galilee. — "Woman, behold
thy son." — The Noonday Darkness. — "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani ? "
— " I thirst." — Vinegar to Drink. — " Into Thy hands." — ¦' It is finished."
The Centurion. — The Multitude. — What the Cross of Christ has Done.
— The Crurifragium. — Water and Blood.  K33
CHAPTER LXII.
The Resuerection.
Utter apparent Weakness of Christianity at the Death of Christ.  Source of
its subsequent Strength. — Joseph of Arimathaea. — Nicodemus.  The
Garden and the Sepulchre. — The Women mark the Spot. — Request of
the Sanhedrin that the Tomb might be guarded. — The Dawn of Easter Day.
— The Women at the Sepulchre. — The Empty Tomb. — Peter and John.
— 1. First appearance to Mary of Magdala. — 2. Appearance to the
Women.— Story Invented by the Jews.— 3. Appearance to Peter. — 4.
The Disciples at Emma'us.— 5. The Assembled Apostles.— 6. The Apos
tles and Thomas. — 7. At the Sea of Galilee. — Jesus and Peter.  " Feed
my lambs."—" What shall this man do ? "— 8. The Five Hundred on the
Mountain. — 9. Appearance to James. — 10. The Ascension. — " At the
right hand of God, the Father Almighty." . . 656

CONTENTS. 29
[Note by the American Publisher. — The running titles over the right
band pages of the London edition of this work, though not adapted to a similar
service in an edition differing in size of page and type, are completely given
below — not as being, in this form, of much use to the reader, but as essential to
the plan of omitting from this reprint uothing.that the English work contains.]
CHAPTER I. The Shepherds; An Eastern Khan; The census of Quirlnus; Descendants of David; A
lowly birth; Simplicity of the Gospels ; Indifference of the world, II. The circumcision; The presentation;
Stm3on and Anna. III. Herod the Great; The Magi; The visit of the Magi; A planetary conjunction;
Evanescent stars ; Astrology. IV. The stay in Egypt ; Massacre of the Innocents ; Crimes of Herod ; Silence
of Josepnus; Death of Herod ; TheHerods; Retirement to Galilee. V. Despised Galilee ; Nazareth; Silence
of the Gospels ; The Boy Christ ; Children of Nazareth ; The Bishop's Vision : Prophets from Galilee.
VI. A visit to Jerusalem; Journey to Jerusalem; Jesus missing; Jesus In the Temple: Mary's question;
They understood not. vu. Life of poverty; The common life; The home of Jesus; Taught of God; A
boy's training; Knowledge of Greek; Teachings of Nature; Brothers and sisters; Brethren of Jesus;
Scenery of Nazareth; Plain of Jezreel. vm. Asceticism: Tendency to asceticism; John in the desert:
Preaching of John; The voice in the wilderness; Jesus and John; The heavenly sign. IX. In tlie wilder
ness; The temptation real ; Suggestions from without ; Temptation conquered; The first temptation: the
second temptation; the third temptation; "The whole world"; Sinless though tempted. X. The fourth
Gospel; " The Lamb of God " ; " Come and see " ; Simon Peter ; Aspect of our Lord ; Majesty of His presence:
"Jesus of Nazareth"; "Come and see"; Spiritual crises; "Son of Man." XI. A Bridal; The mother of
Jesus ; Answer of Jesus ; Miracles ; Various theories ; Symbolism of miracles. XII. Sea of Galilee; Plain
of Gennesareth ; Shores of Gennesareth : Site of Capernaum. XIII. Traffic in the Temple ; Cleansing the
Temple; Holy Zeal; Destroy this Temple "; A better Temple. XIV. Nicodemus; The Master of Israel;
Baptism by the disciples; Discussioi. with a Jew. xv. At the well ; Living water ; Jerusalem or Gerizim?
The Messiah; Literal misinterpretations. XVI. His own Country ; Ofllcersof a synagogue ; The acceptable
year; Is not this the Carpenter ? Fury of the listeners; Farewell to Nazareth. XVII. Herod's Courtier; His
own city; Synagogue at Capernaum ; The demoniac; Scene at evening ; "Depart from Me": The fishers;
"Follow Me " ; Tax-gatherers. XVIII. The Apostles ; James, John. Peter ; St. Peter ; Sinai and Kurn Hattin ;
The new Law; The new life; Not as the Scribes ; Christ and other Masters ; Christ's teaching. XIX. Touching
a leper; Injunctions to secrecy; "Discrepancies"; The Centurion's faith; The world's Judgments. XX.
The funeral at Nain ; The Baptist's message; Machaerus; John in prison: The greatest of the Prophets;
Wisdom's children. XXI. Simon's feast; "She was a sinner"; The Pharisee reproved: The sinner
forgiven; " The Magdalene." XXII. Jesus In Galilee; Jesus; His aspect; A life of simplicity; A life of
health; A life of happiness. XXIII. The Sower; Teaching by parables; The three aspirants; The
storm; Miracles; Gergesa; The demoniac: The herd of swine; Demoniac possession; The demoniac
and the swine ; Fate of Gadara. XXIV. The paralytic healed ; Publicans and sinners ; Fasting ; New
wine. XXV. Healing the issue;, Jalrus's daughter; Ihe blind men. XXVI. Mission of the Twelve;
Lambs and wolves; Missions; The Purim festival. XXVII. The cripple at the pool; Sabbath superstitions;
The impotent man: Answer of Jesus; The Law our tutor ; Jesus leaves Jerusalem, XXVIII. TheHerods;
John and Herod ; The banquet; Salome's dance ; The ghastly boon; The head of John ; Fate of Herodias.
XXIX. Bethsaida Julias : Feeding the five thousand; The five thousand; Alone on the hill; Peter's fear;
" Only believe." XXX. The selfish multitude ; The bread of God ; Teaching bv metaphor ; Bread of heaven :
Peter's confession. XXXI. Fastlngj Publicans and sinners ; The prodigal son ; The elder son ; Sabbatical
superstitions; Abhoth and Toldoth : David and the shewbread ; Sabbath principles; The withered hand;
Ablutions; Immoral vows; The Talmud; Evil thoughts. XXXII. " Teach us to pray " ; Importunate
prayers ; Blind and dumb ; Insults of the Pharisees ; Asking for a sign ; Interfering kinsmen. XXXIU. Denun
ciations ; The open rupture ; The rich fool ; Refining fire. XXXIV. The Syro-Phcenician woman ; Decapoiis ;
Reception in Decapolis. XXXV. A sign from heaven ; Retirement from Galilee ; Leaven of hypocrisy ; A
tentative miracle; The momentous question; "On this rock"; The coming end; Peter's presumption;
A rock of offence ; The kingdom oC heaven. XXXVI. Hermou; The transfiguration ; Elias the forerunner.
xxxvn. The demoniac boy ; Power of faith ; "As a little child "j Solemn warnings. XXXVIII. Peter's answer ;
The Temple contribution. XXXIX. Jesus and his brethren ; The Feast of Tabernacles ; Anger of the Jews ;
The Jewish emissaries ; The hosannah Rabbah ; Pharisaic contempt. XI. Love of the country ; Tlie sin
of adultery; The subtle question : The appeal to conscience; Misery and mercy: A needless stumbling-
block; Questions of the Jews ; Anger of the Jews; Departure oi Jesus. £11. A mistaken question; The
sabbath of Babbinism ; The blind man examined ; True and false shepherds. XLII. -Incidents of the Journey ;
The slain GaUlffians ; Warning about Herod ; "This fox"; The Seventy; The woe fulfilled: Joy of Jesus.
XLIII. The "Sons of Thunder"; Warnings to the Seventy ; The ungrateful lepers. XLIV. The hypocritical
Pharisee; Sabbath teachings; The man with dropsy; Struggle for precedence; A general remark; The
unjust steward ; Warnings to the Pharisees; Are few saved? The good Samaritan; Joy of thQ Seventy; The
prodigal son; The Second Advent; The gathering eagles.. XLV. Martha and Mary ; One thing needful ; In
Solomon's Porch; One with the Father; Bethany beyond Jordan. XLVI. Law of divorce ; Laxity of
divorce; Hillel and Shammai ; Teachings about celibacy; Jesus and the children ; Test of the young ruler:
Dangers of riches. XLVH. The Resurrection and the Life ; Jesus at the sepulchre ; " Lazarus, come forth ! "
Reticence of the Synoptists ; The Hill of Evil Counsel ; Under sentence. XLVm. Going to Jerusalem ; The
true exaltation ; Publicans at Jericho; Zacchteus; Parable of the pounds; Simon the leper; Avarice of
Judas ; Treachery of Judas. XLIX. The triumphal entry ; In view of Jerusalem ; Woe to Jerusalem ; The
triumphal entry ; The Tern pie again defiled ; Emissaries from the West ; The voice from heaven ; The shadow
of the traitor. L. The leafy fig-tree ; The fig-tree withers ; A great deputation ; Our Lord's answer ; The
laborers in the vineyard ; "The marriage of the king's son"; Machinations of the Jews. LI. Fresh attacks ;
Herodians and Pharisees ; The tribute money ; Attempt of the Sadducees ; .The S.idduceau difficulty; The
world to come. LII. The greatest commandment ; The great commandment ; Perplexity of the masters of
Israel: The wrath of the Lamb; "Woe unto you, hypocrites"; The woe fulfilled; Guilt of Jerusalem.
1UI. The widow's mite ; Splendor of the Temple ; " ~V\ hen shall these things be ? " The last things; Birth-
throes of the coming time: Signs in heaven; Evening walk to Bethany. Llv. Overtures of Judas; The
blood-money; Mysteries of Iniquity ; The last sleep of Jesus. LV. Preparations for the feast; Dispute for
precedence; Washing the disciples' feet ; " Ye are clean ; but not all"; Disturbing presence of Judas; "Is
ltl?" Departure of Judas ; The last supper. LVI. The new commandment: "He that hath no sword":
" Lord, show us the Father" ; The great Hallel ; Returning to the Father. LVU. Gethsemane; The agony;
The bloody sweat ; Not from fear of death ; The prayers in the agony ; The arrest; The signal of Judas;
Terror of the conspirators ; Peter and Malchus; Bound and led away. LVIII. Order of the trials; Position
of Annas; Trial before Hanan; Comparative withdrawal of Pharisees; Cause of the priests' anger; The
second trial; False witnesses; Adjuration of Caiaphas; Condemned by Caiaphas. LIX. Peter and John;
The first denial; The third denial; The first derision ; Meeting of the Sanhedrin ; Jesus before the Sanhedrin ;
The traitor's fate ; The traitor's end. LX. Pontius Pilate; Disturbances under Pilate; Triple trial before
Pilate: Pilate and the Jews; True and false royalty ; Sent to Herod; Acquitted by Herod; Misgivings of
Pilate ; Jesus and Bar-Abbas ; Scourging of Jesus ; The last derision ; Fury of the Jews ; Last effort of Pilate ;
Pilate gives way ; Nemesis. 1X1. " Bearing His cross " ; Procession to Golgotha;, The last warning ; Cruci
fixion; Agony of crucifixion : The title on the cross; Parting the garments; Silent on the cross; The
penitent robber ; Jesus and' His mother ; The cry of the Saviour ; " I thirst " ; Impression on the multitude ;
What the cross has done ; The crurifragium. LXII. Joseph of ArimathaBa ; The sepulchre ; The women
at the sepulchre; Peter and John ; Appearance to Mary ; Appearances of the risen Christ ; The disciples at
Emmaus; On the sea of Galilee ; " Lovest thou Me ? " Last appearances ; The ascension.

APPENDIX.

EXCURSUS I. page.
The Date of Christ's Birth  673
EXCURSUS IL
Christ and the Christians in the Talmud - - • - - 675
EXCURSUS III.
Jesus and Hillel  676
EXCURSUS IV.
Greek Learning  681
EXCURSUS V.
The Talmud and the Oral Law  682
EXCURSUS VI.
Traditional Description of the Appearance of Oue Lord - - 684
EXCURSUS VII.
Jewish Angelology and Demonology  685
EXCURSUS VIII.
The* Unnamed Feast of John v. 1, and the Length of the Ministry - 686
EXCURSUS IX.
Hypocrisy of the Pharisees  689
EXCURSUS X.
Was the Last Supper an Actual Passover? - . 691
EXCURSUS XI.
Old Testament Quotations  ... 698
EXCURSUS XII.
Notes on the Talmud --  ggg
EXCURSUS XIII.
The Sanhedrin  ,-,,,
EXCURSUS XIV.
Pharisees and Sadducees  „„„
EXCURSUS XV.
Traditional Sayings of Christ - -  709

THE

LIFE OF CHRIST

OHAPTEE I.

THE NATIVITY.

Avroi ivr;vBpo6iCTj6sv tva tj/jsi? BEortoufdcStiev.6 — Athan., De Inearn., p,
54 (Opp. i. 108).
One mile from Bethlehem is a little plain, in which, under a grove
of olives, stands the bare and neglected chapel known by the name
of " the Angel to the Shepherds." ' It is built over the traditional
site of the fields where, in the beautiful language of St. Luke — more
exquisite than any idyl to Christian ears — " there were shepherds
keeping watch over their flock by night, when, lo, the angel of the
Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord a shone round about
them," and to their happy ears were uttered the good tidings of great
joy, that unto them was born that day in the city of David a Saviour,
which was Christ the Lord.
The associations of our Lord's nativity were all of the humblest
character, and the very scenery of His birthplace was connected with
memories of poverty and toil. On that night, indeed, it seemed as
though the heavens must burst to disclose their radiant minstrelsies ;
and the stars, and the feeding sheep, and the " light and sound in the
1 " Angelus ad Pastores." Near this spot once stood a tower called Migdal
Eder, or " Tower of the Flock " (Gen. xxxv. 21). The present rude chapel is,
perhaps, a mere fragment of a church built over the spot by Helena. (See Cas-
pari, ChronologisclirGeographische Einleitung, p. 57.) The prophet Micah (iv. 8 ;
v. 2) had looked to Migdal Eder with Messianic hopes ; and St. Jerome (De Loc.
Hebr.), writing with views of prophecy which were more current in the ancient
than in the modern Church, ventures to say " that by its very name it fore-signi
fied by a sort of prophecy the shepherds at the birth of the Lord."
5 By 5o'|a Kvpiov (Luke ii. 9) is probably meant the Shechinah or cloud of
brightness which symbolized the Divine presence.

32 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
darkness and stillness," and the rapture of faithful hearts, combine to
furnish us with a picture painted in the colors of heaven. But in the
brief and thrilling verses of the Evangelist we are not told that those
angel songs were heard by any except the wakeful shepherds of an
obscure village; — and those shepherds, amid the chill dews of a
winter night, were guarding their flocks from the wolf and the rob
ber, in fields where Kuth, their Saviour's ancestress, had gleaned, sick
at heart, amid the alien corn, and David, the despised and youngest
son of a numerous family, had followed the ewes great with young.1
" And suddenly," adds the sole Evangelist who has narrated the
circumstances of that memorable night in which Jesus was born,
amid the indifference of a world unconscious of its Deliverer, " there
was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God,
and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among
men of good will." a
It might have been expected that Christian piety would have
marked the spot by splendid memorials, and enshrined the rude
grotto of the shepherds in the marbles and mosaics of some stately
church. But, instead of this, the Chapel of the Herald Angel is a
mere rude crypt; and as the traveller descends down the broken
steps, which lead from the olive-grove into its dim recess, he can
hardly persuade himself that he is in a consecrated place. Yet a half -
' Ps. lxxviii. 71.
! Luke ii. 14, iv civBpmitoii evSoKiaS: such is the reading of the best MSS.,
N, A, B, D, and some of the best versions, the Vetus Itala, Vulgate, Gothic, &c.
Moreover, however dear the other reading may be to us from long and delightful
association, this best^naintains the obvious poetic parallelism :
Glory to God in the highest,
Peace to men of good will on earth.
By drBptsoTtoii svSoxiaS we may perhaps understand with Valcknaer, "men
with whom God is pleased." As I shall not unfrequently refer to the text of the
Greek Testament, I may take this opportunity of telling the ordinary reader that
by N is meant the Codex Sinaiticus, now at St. Petersburgh, discovered by
Tischendorf in 1844, and perhaps as old as the fourth century ; by A, the Codex
Alexandrinus in the British Museum, written in the middle of the fifth century •
by B, the Codex Vaticanus in the Vatican, which belongs to the middle of the
fourth century; by C, the Codex Ephraemi, a palimpsest in the Imperial
Library at Paris, not later than the fifth century ; by D, the Codex Bezae in the
University Library at Cambridge, not later than the seventh century ; by E, the
Codex Basiliensis, about the eighth century ; by F, the Code® Boreeli at Utrecht ¦
by L, the Codex Regius Parisiensis, an accurate and important MS. of the eighth
century. I shall seldom refer to the readings of any later MSS. A full and con
venient account of them may be found in the Rev. F. Scrivener's Plain Introduc
tion to the Criticism of the New Testament (1861), and in the Prolegomena to
Alford's Greek Testament, i. pp. 83 — 90.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 33
unconscious sense of fitness has, perhaps, contributed to this apparent
neglect. The poyerty of the chapel harmonizes well with the humble
toil of those whose radiant vision it is intended to commemorate.
" Come now ! let us go into Bethlehem,1 and see this thing which
has come to pass, which the Lord made known to us," said the shep
herds, when those angel songs had ceased to break the starry silence.
Their way would lead them up the terraced hill, and through the
moonlit gardens of Bethlehem, until they reached the smnmit of the
grey ridge on which the little town is built. On that summit stood
the village inn. The khan (or caravansary) of a Syrian village, at
that day, was probably identical, in its appearance and accommoda
tion, with those which still exist in modern Palestine. A khan is a
low structure, built of rough stones, and generally only a single story
in height. It consists for the most part of a square enclosure, in
which the cattle can be tied up in safety for the night, and an arched
recess for the accommodation of travellers. The leewan, or paved
floor of the recess, is raised a foot or two above the level of the court-
• yard. A large khan — such, for instance, as that of which the ruins
may still be seen at Khan Minyeh, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee
— might contain a series of such recesses, which are, in fact, low
small rooms with no front wall to them. They are, of course, per
fectly public ; everything that takes place in them is visible to every
person in the khan. They are also totally devoid of even the most
ordinary furniture. The traveller may bring his own carpet if he
likes, may sit cross-legged upon it for his meals, and may lie upon it
at night.'' As a rule, too, he must bring his own food, attend to his
own cattle, and draw his own water from the neighboring spring.
He would neither expect nor require attendance, and would pay only
the merest trifle for the advantage of shelter, safety, and a floor on
which to lie. But if he chanced to arrive late, and the leewans were
1 Luke ii. 15, dieXBcojuEv Srj =• agedum. I must remark at the outset that in
most of my quotations from the Gospels I do not slavishly follow the English ver
sion, but translate from the original Greek.
2 " It is common to find two sides of the one room where the native farmer
resides with his cattle, and the remainder elevated about two feet higher for the
accommodation of the family " (Thomson, Land and Book, II., ch. xxxiii.). See,
too, Lane's Modem Egyptians, i. 18. — Leewan is a corruption el-eewdn, which sig
nifies any raised place to sit upon. My description is, however, drawn directly
from my own experiences, especially one night at a poor and lonely place called
Khan Hulda, between Sidon and Beyrout, at which we found ourselves belated.
A distinction has been drawn between koltolXviao. (Luke ii. 7), and rtavSoxsiov
(Luke x. 34), but probably the only distinction is that the former was a. free place
of shelter, and had no host.
5

34 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
all occupied by earlier guests, he would have no choice but to be con
tent with such accommodation as he could find in the court-yard
below, and secure for himself and his family such small amount of
cleanliness and decency as are compatible with an unoccupied corner
on the filthy area, which must be shared with horses, mules, and
camels. The litter, the closeness, the unpleasant smell of the crowded
animals, the unwelcome intrusion of the pariah dogs, the necessary
society of the very lowest hangers-on of the caravansery, are
adjuncts to such a position which can only be realized by any traveller
in the East who happens to have been placed in similar circum
stances. In Palestine it not unfrequently happens that the entire khan, or
at any rate the portion of it in which the animals are housed, is one
of those innumerable caves which abound in the limestone rocks of
its central hills. Such seems to have been the case at the little town
of Bethlehem-Ephratah, in the land of Judah. Justin Martyr the
Apologist, who, from his birth at Shechem, was familiar with Pales
tine, and who lived less than a century after the time of our Lord,1
places the scene of the nativity in a cave. This is, indeed, the
ancient and constant tradition both of the Eastern and the "Western
Churches, and it is one of the few to which, though unrecorded in
the Gospel history, we may attach a reasonable probability.3 Over
this cave has risen the Church and Convent of the Nativity, and it
was in a cave close beside it that one of the most learned, eloquent,
and holy of the Fathers of the Church — that great St. Jerome to
whom we owe the received Latin translation of the Bible — spent
thirty of his declining years in study, and fast, and prayer.3
From their northern home at Nazereth, in the mountains of Zabu-
lon, Joseph, the village carpenter, had made his way along the wintry
roads with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child." Fallen

1 Justin Martyr was born at Flavia Neapolis, A. D. 103, and died A. D. 166. The
date of his First Apology was about A. D. 138. (Gieseler, Ch. Hist. i. 153, E. Tr.)
3 It is impossible to stand in the little Chapel of the Nativity, and to look with
out emotion on the silver star let into the white marble, encircled by its sixteen
ever-burning lamps, and surrounded by the inscription, " Hie de Virgine Maria
Jesus Christus natus est." '
8 He settled in Bethlehem A. D. 386 and died A. D. 420. His allusions to the
sacredness of the spot are very touching, and the most splendid offers of prefer
ment were insufficient to tempt him away from that holy ground (Ep. 24 ad
Marcell.). 4 It appears to be uncertain whether the journey of Mary with her husband was
obligatory or voluntary. From Dion. Hal. iv. 15 (ed. Sylb., p. 221) and Lact. De
mort. persec. 23, the former seems not unlikely. Women were liable to a capita
tion tax, if this enrolment (drtoy patprf) also involved taxation (txitori/urftjiS).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 35
as were their fortunes, they were both of the house and lineage of
David, and they were traversing a journey of eighty miles to the vil
lage which had been the home of their great ancestor while he was
still a ruddy shepherd lad, tending his flocks upon the lonely hills.
The object of that toilsome journey, which could not but be disagree
able to the settled habits of Oriental life, was to enrol their names as
members of the house of David in a census which had been ordered
by the Emperor Augustus. In the political condition of the Roman
Empire, of which Judaea then formed a part, a single whisper' of the
Emperor was sufficiently powerful to secure the execution of his
mandates in the remotest corners of the civilized world. Great as
are the historic difficulties in which this census is involved, there seem
to be good independent grounds for believing that it may have been
originally ordered by Sentius Saturninus,1 that it was begun by Pub-
lius Sulpicius Quirinus," when he was for the first time legate of
But, apart from any legal necessity, it may easily be imagined that at such a
moment Mary would desire not to be left alone. The cruel suspicion of which she
had been the subject, and which had almost led to the breaking off of her betrothal
(Matt. i. 19), would make her cling all the more to the protection of her husband.
1 Tert. Adv. Marc. v. 19. It has been held impossible that there should have
been a census in the kingdom of an independent prince ; yet the case of the
Clitae (" Clitarum natio, Cappadoci Archelao subjecta, quia nostrum in modum
deferre census, pati tributa adigebatur," 8 &c, Tac. Ann. vi. 41) seems to be closely
parallel. That the enrollment should be conducted in the Jewish fashion at the
place of family origin, and not in the Roman fashion at the place of residence,
may have been a very natural concession to the necessities of Herod's position.
It may be perfectly true that this plan would give more trouble ; but, in spite of
this, it was far less likely to cause offence. Yet although the whole proceeding
was probably due to a mere desire on the part of Augustus to make a breviarium
imperii, or Domesday Book, which should include the regna as well as the prov
inces (Tac. Ann. i. 11), it is very doubtful whether it actually did not cause dis
turbances at this very time (Jos. Antt. xvii. 2, § 2), as we know that it did ten j^ears
later. How deeply the disgrace of a heathen census was felt is shown by
the Targum of Jonathan, Hab. iii. 17, where for " The flock shall be cut off
from the folds, and there shall be no herd in the stalls," he has, " The Romans
shall be rooted out ; they shall collect no more tribute from Jerusalem " (Eesooma
= census, v. Buxtorf, s. v.; GfrSrer, Jahrhund. des Heils, i. 42).
2 Cyrenius (P. Sulp. Quirinus) was a man of low extraction, at once ambitious
and avaricious, but faithful to Augustus (Tac. Ann. ii. 30 ; iii. 22 — 48). Other
passages bearing more or less directly on this famous census are Tac. Ann. i. 11 ;
Suet. Aug. 28,101; Dio Cass. liv. 35, &c; Suidas, s. v. drtoypatpij. No less
than three censuses of Roman citizens are mentioned in the Monumentum An-
cyranum ; and Strabo (under Tiberius) speaks of them as common. Zumpt has,
with incredible industry and research, all but established in this matter the
accuracy of St. Luke, by proving the extreme probability that Quirinus was twice
governor of Syria — viz., 750—753 A. U. C, and again 760—765. It was during
the former period that he completed the first census which had been commenced

36 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Syria, and that it was completed during his second term of office.
In deference to Jewish prejudices, any infringement of which
was the certain signal for violent tumults and insurrection, it was
not carried out in the ordinary Roman manner, at each person's
place of residence, but according to Jewish custom, at the town to
which their family originally belonged. The Jews still clung to
their genealogies and to the memory of long-extinct tribal relations ;
and though tlie journey was a weary and distasteful one, the mind
of Joseph may well have been consoled by the remembrance of that
heroic descent which would now be authoritatively recognized, and
by the glow of those Messianic hopes to which the marvellous cir-
by Varus (Zumpt, Das Geburtsjahr Christi; Hist. Ghronol. Untersuchungen, Leipz.;
1870). The argument mainly turns on the fact that in A. U. C. 742, Quirinus was
consul and afterwards (not before A. U. C. 747) proconsul of Africa : yet some
time between this year and A. U. C. 753 (in which year he was appointed rector to
C. Caesar, the grandson of Augustus) he conquered the Homonadenses in Cilicia
(Tac. Ann. iii. 48). He must therefore have been at this time propraetor of the im
perial province of Syria, to which Cilicia belonged. The other provinces near
Cilicia (Asia, Bithynia, Pontus, Galatia) were senatorial, i. e., proconsular, and as a
man could not be proconsul twice, Quirinus could not have been governor in any
of these. It is not possible here to give the ingenious and elaborate arguments
by which Zumpt shows that the Homonadenses must at this time have been under
the jurisdiction of the Governor of Syria. Further than this, we know that P.
Q. Varus was propraetor of Syria, between B. C. 6 and B. C. 4 (A. U. C. 748 
750), and it is extremely likely that Varus may have been displaced in favor of
Quirinus in the latter year, because the close friendship of the former with
Archelaus, who resembled him in character, might have done mischief. It may
therefore be regarded as all but certain, on independent grounds, that Quirinus
was propraetor of Syria between B. C. 4 and B. C. 1. And if such was the case,
instead of having been guilty of a flagrant historical error by antedating, by ten
years, the propraetorship of Quirinus in Syria, St. Luke has preserved for us the
historical fact of his having been twice propraetor, or, to give the full title, Lega
tus Augusti pro praetore a fact which we should have been unable to learn from
Josephus or Dio Cassius, whose histories are here imperfect. For the full argu
ments on this point the reader must, however, consult the exhaustive treatise of
A. W. Zumpt. The appeals of Tertullian to census-records of Saturninus, and of
Justin Martyr to the tables of Quirinus, as proving the genealogy of our Lord
are (so far as we can attach any importance to them) an additional confirmation of
these conclusions, which are not overthrown by Mommsen (Res. Gest. Div. Aug.
p. 123) and Strauss (Leben Jesu, i. 28) ; see Merivale, Hist. iv. 45. Quirinus, not
Quirinius, is probably the true form of the name (Orelli ad Tac. Ann. ii.' 30).
For further discussion of the question see Wieseler, Synops. of the Four Gospels, ¦
E. Tr., pp. 65—106. I may, however, observe in passing that, although no error
has been proved, and, on the contrary, there is much reason to believe that the
reference is perfectly accurate, yet I hold no theory of inspiration which would
prevent me from frankly admitting, in such matters as these, any mistake or
inaccuracy which could be shown really to exist.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 37
cumstances of which he was almost the sole depositary would give a
tenfold intensity.1
Travelling in the East is a very slow and leisurely affair, and was
likely to be still more so if, as is probable, the country was at that
time agitated by political animosities. Beeroth, which is fifteen miles
distant from Bethlehem,3 or possibly even Jerusalem, which is only
six miles off, may have been the resting-place of Mary and Joseph
before this last stage of their journey. But the heavy languor, or
1 That Joseph alone knew these facts appears from Matt. i. 19, where the best
reading seems to be not jeapaSeiyfiaTtdoci,\>xLt Seiynaxi6ca — i.e., not "make
her an example," but, as Eusebius points out, " reveal her condition to the world."
The ivBvfiTjBsrToi of verse 20 means that this intention continued until the ex
planation h.ad been revealed to him. There is nothing surprising in the fact that
the descendant of a royal house should be in a lowly position. Hillel, the great
Rabbi, though he, too, was a descendant of David, spent a great part of his life
in the deepest poverty as a common workman . The green turban, which marks
a descendant of Mahomet, may often be seen in Egypt and Arabia on the head of
paupers and beggars. Similar facts exist quite commonly among ourselves ; and,
ages before this time, we find that the actual grandson of the great Lawgiver
himself (Judg. xviii. 30, where the true reading is "Moses," not "Manasseh")
was an obscure, wandering, semi-idolatrous Levite, content to serve an irregular
ephod for a double suit of apparel and ten shekels (i. e. about thirty shillings) a
year (Judg. xvii. 10). On the genealogies given in St. Matthew and St. Luke, see
the learned and admirable article by the Bishop of Bath and Wells in Smith's
Diet, of the Bible, and his more elaborate work on the same subject. Here I need
only add that remarkable confirmations of the descent of Jesus from David are
found (1) in the story of Domitian and the Desposyni, alluded to in mfr. Chap .
IV. ; and (2) in a statement by Ulla, a Rabbi , of the third century, that " Jesus was
treated exceptionally because of His royal extraction " (HIM mbvb 2\!p~l IB" \3NC!>»
Sanhedrin, 43 a, in non-expurgated editions) (Derenbourg, L'Hist. de la Palestine,
p. 349). It is now almost certain that the genealogies in both Gospels are geneal
ogies of Joseph, which, if we may rely on early traditions of their consanguinity,
involve genealogies of Mary also. The Davidic descent of Mary is implied in Acts
ii. 30 ; xiii. 23 ; Rom. i. 3 ; Luke i. 32, &c. St. Matthew gives the legal descent
of Joseph, through the elder and regal line, as heir to the throne of David ; St.
Luke gives the natural descent. Thus the real father of Salathiel was heir of the
house of Nathan, but the childless Jeconiah (Jer. xxii. 30) was the last lineal rep
resentative of the elder kingly line. The omission of some obscure names and
the symmetrical arrangement into tesseradecads were common Jewish customs.
It is not too much to say that after the labors of Mill (On the Mythical Interpreta
tion of the Gospels, pp. 147 — 217) and Lord A. C. Hervey (On the Genealogies of Our
Lord, 1853), scarcely a single serious difficulty remains in reconciling the apparent
divergencies. And thus, in this, as in so many other instances, the very discrep
ancies which appear to be most irreconcilable, and most fatal to the historic
accuracy of the four Evangelists, turn out, on closer and more patient investiga
tion, to be fresh proofs that they are not only entirely independent, but also
entirely trustworthy.
* St. Matthew calls it Bethlehem of Judaea (ii. 1) to distinguish it from Bethle
hem in Zebulun (Josh. xix. IS). It is the Ephrath of Gen. xlviii. 7. Cf. Micah v. 2.

38 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
even the commencing pangs of travail, must necessarily have retarded
the progress of the maiden-mother. Others who were travelling on
the same errand, would easily have passed them on the road, and
when, after toiling up the steep hill-side, by David's well, they
arrived at the khan — probably the very one which had been known
for centuries as the House of Chimham,1 and if so, covering perhaps
the very ground on which, one thousand years before, had stood the
hereditary house of Boaz, of Jesse, and of David — every leewan
was occupied. The enrolment had drawn so many strangers to
the little town, that " there was no room for them in the inn." In
the rude limestone grotto attached to it as a stable, among the hay
and straw spread for the food and rest of the cattle, weary with their
day's journey, far from home, in the midst of strangers, in the chilly
winter night — in circumstances so devoid of all earthly comfort or
splendor that it is impossible to imagine a humbler nativity —
Christ was born."
Distant but a few miles, on the plateau of the abrupt and singular
hill now called Jebel Fureidis, or "Little Paradise Mountain,"
towered the palace-fortress of the Great Herod. The magnificent
houses of his friends and courtiers crowded around its base. The
humble wayfarers, as they passed near it, might have heard the hired
and voluptuous minstrelsy with which its feasts were celebrated, or
the shouting of the rough mercenaries whose arms enforced obedi-
1 Or rather " hostel " (nvw) (Jer. xli. 17 ; 2 Sam. xix. 37, 38). One tradition says
that the khan was on the ruins of a fortress built by David which had gradually
fallen to ruin. The suggestion that the House of Chimham was the khan of
Bethlehem is made by Mr. W. Hep worth Dixon (Holy Land, I., ch. xiii.). He
gives a good description of Syrian khans.
2 That " it was the winter wild," at the end of B. C. 5 or the beginning of B. C. 4
of our Dionysian era, is all but certain ; but neither the day nor the month can be
fixed (sidiv Si oi itepiEpyorepov . . . xal rrjv tftiepav itpodriBivrBi; 9 Clem.
Alex. Strom, i. 21, § 145). That the actual place of Christ's birth was a cave is, as
we have seen, a very ancient tradition, and this cave used to be shown as the
scene of the event even so early (A. D. 150) as the time of Justin Martyr (Dial. c.
Tryph., c. 78, 304, ev ditr}XociQa nvi dvveyyvi viji xoojutj?.10 Cf. Orig. c. Cels., i.
51). There is therefore nothing improbable in the tradition which points out the
actual cave as having been the one now covered by the Church of the Nativity at
Bethlehem. Hadrian is said to have profaned it by establishing there the wor
ship of Adonis. (Sepp, LtSben Jesu, i. 7.) It is fair, however, to add that the tra
dition of the cave may have arisen from the LXX. rendering of Isa. xxxiii. 16 just
as the subsequent words in the LXX., aproi SeGrfdercti avvcp, were fancifully
referred to Bethlehem, " the house of bread." There seems to be no proof of the
assertion (mentioned by Stanley, Sin. and Pal., p. 441), that the Arabs, when they
plundered the church, found that the Grotto of the Nativity was an ancient sep
ulchre. If such had been the case, is it likely that the Empress Helena (A . D. 330)
would have built her church there ?

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 39
ence to its despotic lord. But the true King of the Jews — the right
ful Lord of the Universe — was not to be found in palace or fortress.
They who wear soft clothing are in kings' houses. The cattle-stables
of the lowly caravansery were a more fitting birthplace for Him who
came to reveal that the soul of the greatest monarch was no dearer or
greater in God's sight than the soul of his meanest slave ; for Him
who had not where to lay His head ; for Trim who, from His cross
of shame, was to rule the world.1
Guided by the lamp which usually swings from the 'center of a
rope hung, across the entrance of the khan, the shepherds made their
way to the inn of Bethlehem, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the
Babe lying in the manger. The fancy of poet and painter has
revelled in the imaginary glories of the scene. They have sung of
the " bright harnessed angels " who hovered there, and of the stars
lingering beyond their time to shed their sweet influences upon that
smiling infancy. They have painted the radiation of light from His
manger-cradle, illuminating all the place till the bystanders are forced
to shade their eyes from that heavenly splendor." But all this is
wide of the reality. Such glories as the simple shepherds saw were
seen only by the eye of faith ; and all which met their gaze was a
peasant of Galilee, already beyond the prime of life, and a young
mother, of whom they could not know that she was wedded maid and
virgin wife, with an Infant Child, whom, since there were none to
help her, her own hands had wrapped in swaddling-clothes. The
light that shinedin the darkness was no physical, but a spiritual beam ;
1 Ps. xcvi. 10, LXX. hfiadlXevdEv [and zov %vXov\ (J. Mart., Dial c. Tryph.
§ 73, p. 298). Tert. Adv. Marc. iii. 19, "Age nunc si legisti penes David ' Dominus
regnavit a ligno,' exspecto quid intelligas nisi forte lignarium aliquem regem Judae-
orum et non Christum, qui exinde a passione ligni superata morte regnavit."11
Some suggest that the LXX. read yy for IX, but it is more probable that the words
were added by Christians, than that they were erased by Jews. The admission of
the rendering quoted by Tertullian from the Vetus Itala, made some of the West
em fathers attach great importance to a phrase which, though interesting, is cer
tainly spurious.
3 As in the splendid picture, " La Notte," of Correggio. See Arab. Gospel of the
Infancy, ch. iii. : " And, lo ! it (the cave) was filled with lights more beautiful than
the glittering of lamps and candles, and brighter than the light of the sun." Pro-
tev. ch. xix. : " There appeared a great light in the cave, so that their eyes could
not bear it." Gospel Pseud. Matth. xiii. : "A cave below a cavern, in which there
was never any light, but always darkness . And when the blessed Mary had
entered it, it began to become all light with brightness," &c. " Praesepe jam ful-
get tuum " 12 (Ambros. De Adv. Dom. 86). " Quando Christus natus est corpus
ejus resplenduit ut sol quando oritur"13 (Vincent Lerin. Serm,. de Natwitate,
referring to Isa. be. 2).

40 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the Dayspring from on high, which had now visited mankind, dawned
only in a few faithful and humble hearts.1
And the Gospels, always truthful and bearing on every page that
simplicity which is the stamp of honest narrative, indicate this fact
without comment. There is in them nothing of the exuberance of
marvel, and mystery, and miracle, which appears alike in the Jewish
imaginations about their coming Messiah, and in the apocryphal nar
ratives about tne Infant Christ. There is no more decisive criterion
of their absolute credibility as simple histories, than the marked and
violent contrast which they offer to all the spurious gospels of the
early centuries, and all the imaginative legends which have clustered
about them. Had our Gospels been unauthentic, they too must inevi
tably have partaken of the characteristics which mark, without excep
tion, every early fiction about the Saviour's life. To the unillumi-
nated fancy it would have seemed incredible that the most stupendous
event in the world's history should have taken place without convul
sions and catastrophes. In the Gospel of St. James " there is a really
striking chapter, describing how, at the awful moment of the nativity,
the pole of the heaven stood motionless, and the birds were still, and
there were workmen lying on the earth with their hands in a vessel,
" and those who handled did not handle it, and those who took did
not lift, and those who presented it to their mouth did not present it,
but the faces of all were looking up ; and I saw the sheep scattered and
the sheep stood, and the shepherd lifted up his hand to strike, and his
hand remained up ; and I looked at the stream of the river, and the
mouths of the kids were down, and were not drinking ; and every
thing which was being propelled forward was intercepted in its course."
But of this sudden hush and pause of awe-struck Nature,8 of the par-
helions and mysterious splendors which blazed in many places of the
world, of the painless childbirth,4 of the perpetual virginity,6 of the
1 The apocryphal Gospels, with their fondness for circumstantiality, and their
readiness on all occasions to invent imaginary names, say that there were four
shepherds, and that their names wereMisael, Acheel, Cyriacus, and Stephanus (see
Hofmann, Leben Jesu nach den Apokryplien, p. 117). The little village of Beit-
Sahur is pointed out as their native place.
2 Commonly known as the Protevangelium, ch. xviii.
8 " Credibile est in aliis partibus mundi aliqua indicia nativitatis Christi
apparuisse " " (S. Thorn. Aquin., Summa iii. qu. 36, art. 3. Hofmann, p. 115,
seqq.). 4 " Nulla ibi obstetrix, nulla muliercularum sedulitas intercessit " 16 (Jer.
Adv. Hefoid.), probably with reference to Ps. xxii. 9 — " Thou art He who
tookest me out of my mother's womb." This is, however, involved in Luke ii. 7,
tdTtotpydveodev. 6 " Virgo ante partum, in partu, post partum " 16 (Aug. Serm. 123). " Claustrum

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 4J
ox and the ass kneeling to worship Him in the manger,1 of the voice
with which immediately after His birth He told His mother that He
was the Son of God," and of many another wonder which rooted itself
in the earliest traditions, there is no trace whatever in the New Tes
tament. The inventions of man differ wholly from the dealings of
God. In His designs there is no haste, no rest, no weariness, no dis
continuity ; all things are done by Him in the majesty of silence, and
they are seen under a light that shineth quietly in the darkness,
" showing all things in the slow history of their ripening." " The
unfathomable depths of the Divine counsels," it has been said, " were
moved ; the fountains of the great deep were broken up ; the heal
ing of the nations was issuing forth : but nothing was seen on the
surface of human society but this slight rippling of the water : the
course of human things went on as usual, while each was taken up
with little projects of his own."
How long the Virgin Mother and her holy Child stayed in this
cave, or cattle-inclosure, we cannot tell, but probably it was not for
long. The word rendered " manger " in ¦ Luke ii. 7,3 is of very
uncertain meaning, nor can we discover more about it than that it
means a place where animals were fed.4 It is probable that the crowd
in the khan would not be permanent, and common humanity would
have dictated an early removal of the mother and her child to some
pudoris per'manet " " (Ambros. De Adv. Dom. 10). This was a mere fantastic
inference from Ezek. xliv. 2. (See Jer. Taylor, Life of Christ, ed. Eden, p. 65, n.)
1 Gosp. Pseud. Matth. xiv. An incident imagined with reference to Isa. i. 3,
"The ox knoweth his owner," &c, and Hab. iii. 2, mistranslated in the LXX.,
" Between two animals Thou shalt be made known " (hv nidw Svo Zgqgot
yvoodBijdy), and the Vet. Itala (" In medio duorum aniinalium innotesceris." 18)
" Cognovit bos et asinus Quod puer erat Dominus " " (Pister, De Nativ. Dom. 5).
2 Arab. Gosp. of Inf. i.
8 <pa'r»V(from nctTEoiiai, "I eat:" Curtius, Grundzuge Griech. Etym., ii. 84).
It is used for W3N A. V, "crib," in Prov. xiv. 4 (Targ. «nnw, "barn;" cf. Isa.
i. 3 ; Job xxxix. 9), and for "?}<{, " stable," in 2 Chron. xxxii. 28 ; cf. Hab. iii. 17.
In Luke xiii. 15 it is rendered "stall." But actual mangers, built as they are in
the shape of a kneading-trough, may be, and are, used as cradles in the East
(Thomson, Land and Book, ii. 533). Even where these are wanting, there is often
a projecting ledge on which the cattle can rest their nosebags. Mangers are cer
tainly ancient (Horn. II. x. 568 ; Hdt. ix. 70). On the whole I conclude that
<pdxvr} means primarily " an enclosure where cattle are fed ; " and secondly, " the
place from which they eat," and hence is used both for a stable and a manger.
4 Vulg. " praesepe." Hence Mr. Grove (Bibl. Diet. s. v. " Bethlehem") goes a
little too far in saying that " the stable and its accompaniments are the creation
of the imagination of poets and painters, with no support from the Gospel narra
tive." 6

42 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
more appropriate resting-place. The magi, as we see from St. Mat
thew, visited Mary in " the house." ' But on all these minor inci
dents the Gospels do not dwell. The fullest of them is St. Luke,
and the singular sweetness of his narrative, its almost idyllic grace,
its sweet calm tone of noble reticence, seemed clearly to indicate that
he derived it, though but in fragmentary notices,, from the lips of
Mary herself. It is, indeed, difficult to imagine from whom else it
could have come, for mothers are the natural historians of infant
years ; but it is interesting to find, in the actual style, that " coloring
of a woman's memory and a woman's view," which we should natu
rally have expected in confirmation of a conjecture so obvious and so
interesting." To one who was giving the reins to his imagination,
the minutest incidents would have claimed a description ; to Mary
they would have seemed trivial and irrelevant. Others might won
der, but in her all wonder was lost in the one overwhelming revela
tion — the one absorbing consciousness. Of such things she could
not lightly speak ; " she kept all these things, and pondered them in
her heart." s The very depth and sacredness of that reticence is the
natural and probable explanation of the fact, that some of the details
of the Saviour's infancy are fully recorded by St. Luke alone.
' Matt. ii. 11. 2 See Lange i. 325. 3 Luke ii. 19.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 43

CHAPTER IL
THE PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE.
"He who with all heaven's heraldry whilere
Entered the world, now bleeds to give us ease.
Alas ! how soon our sin
Sore doth begin
His infancy to seize ! " — Milton, The Circumcision.
Foite events only of our Lord's infancy are narrated by the Gospels
— namely, the Circumcision, the Presentation in the Temple, the
Visit of the Magi, and the Flight into Egypt. Of these the first two
occur only in St. Luke, the last two only in St. Matthew. Vet no
single particular can be pointed out in which the two narratives are
necessarily contradictory. Lf, on other grounds, we have ample rea
son to accept the evidence of the Evangelists, as evidence given by
witnesses of unimpeachable honesty, we have every right to believe
that, to whatever cause the confessed fragmentariness of their narra
tives may be due, those narratives may fairly be regarded as supple
menting each other. It is as dishonest to assume the existence of
irreconcilable discrepancies, as it is to suggest the adoption of impos
sible harmonies. The accurate and detailed sequence of biographical
narrative from the earliest years of life was a thing wholly unknown
to the Jews, and alien alike from their style and temperament.
Anecdotes of infancy, incidents of childhood, indications of future
greatness in boyish years, are a very rare phenomenon in ancient
literature. It is only since the dawn of Christianity that childhood
has been surrounded by a halo of romance.
The exact order of the events which occurred before the return to
Nazareth can only be a matter of uncertain conjecture. The Circum
cision was on the eighth day after the birth (Luke i. 59 ; ii. 21) ; the
Purification was thirty-three days after the circumcision ' (Lev. xii. 4) ;
the Visit of the Magi was " when Jesus was born in Bethlehem "
(Matt. ii. 1) ; and the Flight into Egypt immediately after their
departure. The supposition that the return from Egypt was previ-
1 Not after the birth, as Caspari says.

44 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ous to the Presentation in the Temple, though not absolutely impos
sible, seems most improbable. To say nothing of the fact that such
a postponement would have been a violation (however necessary) of
the Levitical law,1 it would either involve the supposition that the
Purification was long postponed, which seems to be contradicted by
the twice-repeated expression of St. Luke (ii. 22, 39) ; or it supposes
that forty days allowed sufficient time for the journey of the wise
men from " the East," and for the flight to, and return from, Egypt.
It involves, moreover, the extreme improbability of a return of the
Holy Family to Jerusalem — a town but six miles distant from Beth
lehem — within a few days after an event so frightful as the Massa
cre of the Innocents. Although no supposition is entirely free from
the objections which necessarily arise out of our ignorance of the cir
cumstances, it seems almost certain that the Flight into Egypt, and
the circumstances which led to it, did not occur till after the Presen
tation. For forty days, therefore, the Holy Family were left in
peace and obscurity, in a spot surrounded by so many scenes of
interest, and hallowed by so many traditions of their family and
race. Of the Circumcision no mention is made by the apocryphal gospels,
except an amazingly repulsive one in the Arabic Gospel of the
Infancy." It was not an incident which would be likely to interest
those whose object it was to intrude their own dogmatic fancies
into the sacred story. But to the Christian it has its own solemn
meaning. It shows that Christ came not to destroy the Law, but
to fulfil. Thus it became Him to fulfil all righteousness.3 Thus
early did He suffer pain for our sakes, to teach us the spiritual cir
cumcision — the circumcision of the heart — the circumcision of all
our bodily senses." As the East catches at sunset the colors of the
' For by the law a woman was obliged to stay in the house during the forty
days before the purification (Lev. xii. 1 — 8).
2 Arab. Ev. Inf. ch. v. — It was doubtless performed by Joseph, and the presence
of witnesses was necessary. Special prayers were offered on the occasion, a chair
was placed for the prophet Elijah, as the precursor of the Messiah, and a feast
terminated the ceremony. Lange (i. 899) well observes the contrast between the
slight notice of the circumcision of Jesus, and the great festivities with which
that of St.- John was solemnized. " In John the rite of circumcision solemnized
its last glory."
3 Matt. iii.. 15.
4 See the somewhat fanciful, yet beautiful remarks of St. Bonaventura in his
Vita Christi, ch. v. : " We Christians have baptism, a rite of fuller grace,
and free from pain. Nevertheless, we ought to practice the circumcision of the
heart."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 45
"West, so Bethlehem is a prelude to Calvary, and even the Infant's
cradle is tinged with a crimson reflection from the Redeemer's
cross.1 It was on this day, too, that Christ first publicly received
that name ' of Jesus, which the command of the angel Gabriel had
already announced. "Hoshea" meant salvation; Joshua, "whose
salvation is Jehovah ; " s Jesus is but the English modification of the
Greek form of the name. At this time it was a name extraordinarily
common among the Jews. It was dear to them as having been
borne by the great Leader who had conducted them into victorious
possession of the Promised Land, and by the great High Priest who
had headed the band of exiles who returned from Babylon;4 but
henceforth — not for Jews only, but for all the world — it was des
tined to acquire a significance infinitely more sacred as the mortal
designation of the Son of God. The Hebrew " Messiah " and the
Greek "Christ" were names which represented His office as the
Anointed Prophet, Priest, and King ; but " Jesus " was the personal
name which He bore as one who " emptied Himself of His glory"
to become a sinless man among sinful men. *
On the fortieth day after the nativity — until which time she could
not leave the house — the Virgin presented herself with her Babe for
1 See Williams, Nativity, p. 87.
2 Among the Greeks, and Romans also, the yeveBXia, or nominalia, were on
the eighth or ninth day after birth. Among the Jews this was due to the fact
mentioned in Gen. xvii. 5, 15 (Abraham and Sarah).
s ywirp, jntsr^ and w\ (Jehoshua, Jeshua, Jeshu) are the forms in which it occurs.
It was sometimes Grecized into Jason, sometimes into Jesus. Its meaning is
given in Philo (daoTrjpia. Kvpiov, De Mutat. Nomin., § 21), and in Ecclus.
xlvi. 1, jue'yaS eirt doorr/pia), just as in Matt. i. 21. In the New Testament
" Jesus " twice stands for Joshua (Acts vii. 45 ; Heb. iv. 8). The name thus
resembles the German Gotthilf. The Valentinians, by the cabalistic system,
notarikon, made it equivalent to Jehovah shammaim »a-aretz (see Iren. II., xxxiv
4) ; and Osiander makes it the ineffable name, the " Shemhammephorash," ren
dered utterable by an inserted B>.
4 See Ezra ii. 2 ; iii. 2 ; Zech. iii. 1, &c. For other bearers of the name, see 1
Chron. xxiv. 11 ; 1 Sam. vi. 14; 2 Kings xxiii. 8; Luke iii. 29. A son of Saul is
said to have been so called (Jos. Antt. vi. 6, § 6). In the New Testament we have
" Jesus which is called Justus " (Gol. iv. 11) ; Bar-Jesus (Acts xiii. 6) ; and prob
ably Jesus Barabbas, if the reading be "right in Matt, xxvii. 16. Possibly the
name might have been omitted by transcribers from feelings of reverence ; on the
other hand, it might have been inserted by heretics to spoil the fancy (alluded to
by Orio-en ad loc.) that " in tantS, multitudine Scripturarum neminem invenimus
Jesum peccotorem." 20 (See Keim, Geschichte Jesu, i. 384 — 387.) No less than
twelve people of the name (besides those mentioned in Scripture) are alluded to
in Josephus alone..
6 "Jesus mel in ore, in aure melos, in corde jubilum." 2l (St. Bern.)

46 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
their Purification in the Temple at Jerusalem.1 " Thus, then," says
St. Bonaventura, " do they bring the Lord of the Temple to the
Temple of the Lord." The proper offering on such occasions was a
yearling lamb for a burnt-offering, and a young pigeon or a turtle
dove for a sin-offering ; * but with that beautiful tenderness, which
is so marked a characteristic of the Mosaic legislation, those who
were too poor for so comparatively costly an offering, were allowed
to bring instead two turtle-doves or two young pigeons.8 With this
humble offering Mary presented herseK to the priest. At the same
time Jesus, as being a first-born son, was presented to God, and in
accordance with the law, was redeemed from the necessity of Temple
service by the ordinary payment of five shekels of the. sanctuary
(Numb, xviii. 15, 16), amounting in value to about fifteen shillings.
Of the purification and presentation no further details are given to
us, but this visit to the Temple was rendered memorable by a double
incident — the recognition of the Infant Saviour by Simeon and Anna.
Of Simeon we are simply told that he was a just and devout
Israelite endowed with the gift of prophecy, and that having received
divine intimation that his death would not take place till he had
seen the Messiah,4 he entered under some inspired impulse into the
Temple, and there, recognizing the Holy Child, took Him in his arms,
and burst into that glorious song — the "Nunc Dimittis" — which
for eighteen centuries has been so dear to Christian hearts. The
prophecy that the Babe should be " a light to lighten the Gentiles,"
no less than the strangeness of the circumstances, may well have
caused astonishment to His parents, from whom the aged prophet did
not conceal their own future sorrows — warning the Virgin Mother
especially, both of the deadly opposition which that Divine Child was
destined to encounter, and of the national perils which should agitate
the days to come."

1 rot; uaBapidfiov avrdav. The reading, avrrji, adopted by the E. V., is of
very inferior authority, and probably due to dogmatic prejudice. Avtov, the
reading of the Codex Bezae, is singular, but improbable.
2 Luke ii. 22 ; Lev. xii. 1 — 8 ; Numb, xviii. 16.
8 Lev. xii. 6—8.
4 Hence he has received in early Christian writers the surname of 0eoS6xoS.
The expression, " waiting for the consolation of Israel," resembles what St. Mark
says of Joseph of Arimathea, " who also waited for the kingdom of God " (Mark
xv. 43). A prayer for the coming of the Messiah formed a part of the daily geul-
lah ; and *' may I see the consolation of Israel," was a common formula of hope
Sepp quotes Ohagigah, fol. 16, and other rabbinical* authorities.
1 The word xeTrai (Luke ii. 34) has been taken to mean, " this child who lies in
my arms ; " but the E. V. is probably nearer to the true meaning and the meta-

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 47
Legend has been busy with the name of Simeon. In the Arabic
Gospel of the Infancy, he recognizes Jesus because he sees TTi'tti shin
ing like a pillar of light in His mother's arms.1 Nicephorus tells us
that, in reading the Scriptures, he had stumbled at the verse,
' Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son " (Isa. vii. 14), and
had then received the intimation that he should not die till he had
seen it fulfilled. All attempts to identify him with other Simeons
have failed." Had he been a High Priest, or President of the Sanhe
drin, St. Luke would not have introduced him so casually as " a man
{avdpwnos) in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon." The statement
in the Gospel of the Nativity of Mary that he was 113 years old is
wholly arbitrary ; as is the conjecture that the silence of the Talmud
about him is due to his Christian proclivities. He could not have
been Rabban Simeon, the son of Hillel, and father of Gamaliel,
who would not at this time have been so old. Still less could he have
been the far earlier Simeon the Just, who was believed to have
prophesied the destruction of Jerusalem, and who was the last sur
vivor of the great Sanhedrin.3 It is curious that we should be told
nothing respecting him, while of Anna the prophetess several inter
esting particulars are given, and among others that she was of the
tribe of Asher — a valuable proof that tribal relations still lived
affectionately in the memory of the people.4
phor involved is that of a stone — whether for stumbling or for edification (v.
Wordsworth ad loc). In the sad prophecy, " Tea, a sword shall pierce through
thy own soul also," the same word, pofigjaia, is used as in Zech. xiii. 7, LXX.
1 Ev. Inf. Arab. ch. vi,
8 Gospel of James xxvi., and of Nicodemus xvi. They call him 6 fiiyaS
SiSddKaXoi.™ It is a curious coincidence that the Jews say that "Christ was
born in the days of R. Simeon, the son of Hillel."
8 I spell this word, Sanhedrira throughout, because it is evidently a mere trans
literation of the Greek dvvsdpiov.
4 I can see no ground for the conjecture of Schleiermacher, approved by Neander,
that the narrative was derived from Anna herself.

48 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER III.

THE VISIT OF THE MAGI.

" 0 Jerusalem, look about thee toward the east, and behold the joy that cometh
unto thee from God." — Baruch iv. 36.
The brief narrative of the Visit of the Magi, recorded in the
second chapter of St. Matthew, is of the deepest interest in the history
of Christianity. It is, in the first place, the Epiphany, or Manifes
tation of Christ to the Gentiles. It brings the facts of the Gospel
history into close connection with Jewish belief, with ancient proph
ecy, with secular history, and with modern science ; and in doing so
it furnishes us with new confirmations of our faith, derived inciden
tally, and therefore in the most unsuspicious manner, from indispu
table and unexpected quarters.
Herod the Great, who, after a life of splendid misery and criminal
success, had now sunk into the jealous decrepitude of his savage old
age, was residing in his new palace on Zion, when, half maddened as
he was already by the crimes of his past career, he was thrown into
a fresh paroxysm of alarm and anxiety by the visit of some Eastern
Magi, bearing the strange intelligence that they had seen in the East '
the star of a new-born king of the Jews, and had come to worship
him. Herod, a mere Idumsean usurper, a more than suspected apos
tate, the detested tyrant over an unwilling people, the sacrilegious
plunderer of the tomb of David " — Herod, a descendant of the
•The expression might, perhaps, be rendered, "at its rising" (the plural
draroXai, not dvaroXrj, is used for " the east," in Matt, ii. 1) ; but this would
seem to require avrov, and does not well suit verse 9.
2 Jos. Antt. xvi. 7, § 1. On seizing the throne, with the support of the Romans,
and specially of Antony, more than thirty years before (A. U. C. 717), Herod
(whose mother, Cypros, was an Arabian, and his father, Antipater, an Idumsean)
had been distinctly informed by the Sanhedrin that, in obedience to Deut. xvii.
15, they could not accept a stranger for their king. This faithfulness cost a great
many of them their lives. (See Jos. Antt. xiv. 9, § 4; xv. l,&c, and rabbinic
authorities quoted by Sepp.) The political and personal relations of Herod were
evidently well adapted for the furtherance of a new religion. The rulers o'f the
Jews, since the Captivity, had been Persian between B.C. 536—332; Egypto-
Greek and Syro-Greek between B.C. 332 — 142; Asmona?an and independent

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 49
despised Ishmael and the hated Esau, heard the tidings with a terror
and mdignation which it was hard to dissimulate. The grandson of
one who, as was believed, had been , a mere servitor in a temple at
Ascalon, and who in his youth had been carried off by Edomite brig
ands, he well knew how worthless were his pretensions to an historic
throne which he held solely by successful adventure. But his craft
equalled his cruelty, and finding that all Jerusalem shared his sus
pense, he summoned to his palace the leading priests and theologians
of the Jews — perhaps the relics of that Sanhedrin which he had
long reduced to a despicable shadow — to inquire of them where the
Messiah l was to be born. He received the ready and confident
answer that Bethlehem was the town indicated for that honor by the
prophecy of Micah." Concealing, therefore, his desperate intention,
he dispatched the wise men to Bethlehem, bidding them to let him
know as soon as they had found the child, that he too might come
and do him reverence.
Before continuing the narrative, let us pause to inquire who these
Eastern wanderers were, and what can be discovered respecting their
mysterious mission.
between B. C. 142 — 63; and under Roman influences since the conquest of Jerusa
lem by Pompey, B.C. 63. Under Herod (from B.C. 37 to the birth of Christ)
the government might fairly be called cosmopolitan. In him the East and the
West were united. By birth an Edomite on the father's side, and an Tshmaelite
on the mother's, he represented^, third great division of the Semitic race by his
nominal adoption of the Jewish religion. Yet his life was entirely moulded by
conceptions borrowed from the two great Aryan races of the ancient world ; his
conceptions of policy and government were entirely Roman ; his ideal of life and
enjoyment entirely Greek. And, in addition to this, he was surrounded by a
body-guard of barbarian mercenaries. At no previous or subsequent period could
a world-religion have been more easily preached than it was among the hetero
geneous elements which were brought together by his singular tyranny. (Guder,
Konig Herodes der Grosse, i.) His astuteness, however, had early taught him that
his one best security was to truckle to the all-powerful Romans (of itdvTwv
xparovvrsi 'Pco/taioi, Jos. Antt. xv. 11, § 1).
1 Not as in the English version, " where Christ should be born ; " for it is
6 Xpidroi, "the Anointed." " Christ" in the Gospels, even when without the
article in Greek, which is only in four passages, is almost without exception
(John xvii. 3), an appellative and not a proper name (" non proprium nomen est,
sed nuncupatio potestatis et regni," ri Lact. Instt. Div. iv. 7). (See Lightfoot on
Revision, 100.)
2 Micah v. 2 ; cf. John vii. 42. The latter passage, shows how familiarly this
prophecy was known to the people. The Jewish authorities quote the text
loosely, but give the sense. (See Turpie, The Old Test, in the New, p. 189.) The
version of Gen. xlix. 27 in the Targum of Onkelos is, " The Shechinah shall
dwell in the land of Benjamin."* (Gfrorer, Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 55.)
7'

50 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
The name " Magi," by which they are' called in the Greek of St.
Matthew, is perfectly vague. It meant originally a sect of Median
and Persian scholars ; it was subsequently applied (as in Acts xiii. 6)
to pretended astrologers, or Oriental soothsayers. Such characters
were well known to antiquity, under the name of Ohaldasans, and
then- visits were by no means unfamiliar even to the "Western
nations. Diogenes Laertius reports to us a story of Aristotle, that a
Syrian mage had predicted to Socrates that he would die a violent
death ; ' and Seneca informs us that magi, " qui forte Athenis
erani" " had visited the tomb of Plato, and had there offered incense
to him as a divine being." There is nothing but a mass of confused
and contradictory traditions to throw any light either on their rank,
their country, their number, or their names. The tradition which
makes them kings was probably founded on the prophecy of Isaiah
(Ix. 3) : "And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the
brightness of thy rising." The fancy that they were Arabians may
have arisen from the fact that myrrh and frankincense are Arabian
products, joined to the passage in Ps. lxxii. 10, " The kings of Thar-
shish and of the isles shall give presents ; the kings of Arabia and
Saba shall bring gifts." 3-
There was a double tradition as to their number. Augustine and
Chrysostom say that there were twelve, but the common belief, aris
ing perhaps from the triple gifts, is that they were three in number.4
The Venerable Bede even gives us their names, their country, and
their personal appearance. Melchior was* an old man with white hair
and long beard; Caspar, a ruddy and beardless youth; Balthasar,
swarthy and in the prime of life.6 We are further informed by tra
dition that Melchior was a descendant of Shem, Caspar of Ham, and
Balthasar of Japheth. Thus they are made representatives of the
three periods of life, and the three divisions of the globe ; and value
less as such fictions may be for direct historical purposes, they have
been rendered interesting by their influence on the most splendid
productions of religious art.' The skulls of these three kings, each
' Diog. Laert. ii. 45.
2 Sen. Ep. 58.
3 In the original xzv, j. e. Arabia Felix. One MS. of the Protevangelium makes
them come from Persia (ix LTspdiSoS) ; Theodoret calls them Chaldaeans ; Hilary,
Ethiopians ; some more recent writers make them Indians. (See Hofmann, p. 127.)
4 See all the authorities for these legends or fancies quoted with immense learn
ing and accuracy by Hofmann.
«' Bede, Opp. iii. 649.
6 The art student will at once recall the glorious pictures of Paul Veronese,
Giovanni Bellini, &c.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. §\
circled with its crown of jewelled gold, are still exhibited among the
relics in the cathedral at Cologne.1
It is, however, more immediately to our purpose to ascertain the
causes of their memorable journey.
We are informed by Tacitus, by Suetonius, and by Josephus," that
there prevailed throughout the entire East at this time an intense
conviction, derived from ancient prophecies, that ere long a powerful
monarch would arise in Judaea, and gain dominion over the world.
It has, indeed, been conjectured that the Roman historians may
simply be echoing an assertion, for which Josephus was in reality
their sole authority ; but even if we accept this uncertain supposition,
there is still ample proof, both in Jewish and in Pagan writings, that
a guilty and weary world was dimly expecting the advent of its
Deliverer. " The dew of blessing falls not on us, and our fruits have
no taste," exclaimed Rabban Simeon, the son of Gamaliel ; and the
expression might sum up much of the literature of an age which was,
as Niebuhr says, " effete with the drunkenness of crime." The splen
did vaticination in the fourth Eclogue of Virgil proves the intensity
of the feeling, and has long been reckoned among the " unconscious
prophecies of heathendom."
There is, therefore, nothing extraordinary in the fact that these
Eastern magi should have bent their steps to Jerusalem, especially
if there were any circumstances to awaken in the East a more imme
diate conviction that this wide-spread expectation was on the point of
fulfilment. If they were disciples of Zoroaster, they would see in
the Infant King the future conqueror of Ahriman, the destined Lord
of all the World. The story of their journey has indeed been set
down with contemptuous confidence as a mere poetic myth; but
though its actual historic verity must rest on the testimony of the
Evangelist alone, there are many facts which enable us to see that in
its main outlines it involves nothing either impossible or even
improbable. 1 They were said to have been found by Bishop Reinald in the twelfth century.
"- " Pluribus persuasio inerat, antiquis sacerdotum libris contineri, fore ut vales-
ceret oriens, et e Judaea profecti rerum potirentur " 26 (Tac. Hist. v. 13). " Percre-
buerat oriente toto vetus et constans opinio esse in fatis, ut eo tempore Judaea pro
fecti rerum potirentur,26 (Suet. Vesp. 4). xpydixoi . . . ooS xocrd rdv xoapov
kxElvov died riji x°°Pai Tl$ CLvrmv ap&i rijS oixovixivrji^ (Jos. B. J. vi. 5,
§ 4). Josephus steadily and characteristically interprets the prophecy of Vespa
sian. It is true that these historians refer to the days of the Flavian dynasty
(A. D. 79) ; but the " vetus " of Suetonius, and the 4th Eclogue of Virgil, taken in
connection with the possible date of the Third Book of the Sibylline Oracles, are
signs that the expectation had existed half a century earlier.

52 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Now St. Matthew tells us that the cause of their expectant attitude
was that they had seen the star of the Messiah in the East, and that
to discover Him was the motive of their journey.
That any strange siderial phenomenon should be interpreted as the
signal of a coming king, was in strict accordance with the belief of
their age. Such a notion may well have arisen from the prophecy
of Balaam,' the Gentile sorcerer — a prophecy which from the power
of its rhythm, and the splendor of its imagery, could hardly fail to
be disseminated in eastern countries. Nearly a century afterwards,
the false Messiah, in the reign of Hadrian, received from the cele
brated Rabbi Akiba, the surname of Bar-Cocheba, or " Son of a
Star," and caused a star to be stamped upon the coinage which he
issued. Six centuries afterwards, Mahomet is said to have pointed
to a comet as a portent illustrative of his pretensions. Even the
Greeks and Romans " had always considered that the births and deaths
of great men were symbolized by the appearance and disappearance
of heavenly bodies, and the same belief has continued down to com
paratively modern times. The evanescent star which appeared in
the time of Tycho Brahe, and was noticed by him on Nov. 11, 1572,
was believed to indicate the brief but dazzling career of some warrior
from the north, and was subsequently regarded as having been pro
phetic of the fortunes of Gustavus Adolphus. Now it so happens
that, although the exact year in which Christ was born is not ascer
tainable with any certainty from Scripture, yet, within a few years of
what must, on any calculation, have been the period of His birth,
there undoubtedly did appear a phenomenon in the heavens so
remarkable that it could not possibly have escaped the observation of
an astrological people. The immediate applicability of this phe
nomenon to the Gospel narrative is now generally abandoned ; but,
whatever other theory may be held about it, it is unquestionably
1 That the Jews and their Rabbis had borrowed many astrological notions from
the Chaldseans, and that they connected these notions with the advent of the Mes
siah, is certain. See the quotations from the tract Sanhedrin, R. Abraham, Abar-
banel, the Zohar, in Milnter, Sepp, &c. Comp. Jos. Antt. ii. 9, § 2, and i. 7, § 2,
where Josephus quotes Berosus as having said that Abram was " skilful in the
celestial science."
2 Luc. i. 529 ; Suet. Gaes. 88 ; Sen. Nat. Quaest. i. 1 ; Serv. ad Virg. Eel. 9, 47,
" Ecce Dionaei processit Caesaris astrum," 28 &c. — Every one will remember the
allusions in Shakespeare —
"The Heavens themselves blaze at the death of princes."— Henry IV.
and " Comets portending change of time and state,
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars
That have consented to our Henry's death."— 1 Henry VI., i. 1.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 53
important and interesting as having furnished one of the data which
first led to the discovery, that the birth of Christ took place three or
four years before our received era.1 This appearance, and the cir
cumstances which have been brought into connection with it, we will
proceed to notice. They form a curious episode in the history of
exegesis, and are otherwise remarkable ; but we must fully warn the
reader that the evidence by which this astronomical fact has been
brought into immediate connection with St. Matthew's narrative is
purely conjectural, and must be received, if received at all, with con
siderable caution.
On Dec. 17, 1603, there occurred a conjunction of the two largest
superior planets, Saturn and Jupiter, in the zodiacal sign of the
Fishes, in the watery trigon." In the following spring they were
joined in the fiery trigon by Mars, and in Sept., 1604, there appeared
in the foot of Ophiuchus, and between Mars and Saturn, a new star
of the first magnitude, which, after shining for a whole year, grad
ually waned in March, 1606, and finally disappeared.3 Brunowski,
the pupil of Kepler, who first noticed it, describes it as sparkling with
an interchange of colors like a diamond, and*as not being in anyway
nebulous, or offering any analogy to a comet.4 These remarkable
phenomena attracted the attention of the great Kepler, who, from his
acquaintance with astrology, knew the immense importance which
such a conjunction would have had in the eyes of the Magi, and
wished to discover whether any such conjunction had taken place
about the period of our Lord's birth. Now there is a conjunction of
1 This is the date adopted by Ideler, Sanclemente, Wieseler. Herod the Great
died in the first week of Nisan, A. U. C. 750, as we can prove, partly from the fact
that shortly before his death there was an eclipse of the moon (Jos. Antt. xvii. 6,
§ 4). Ideler and Wurin have shown that the only eclipse visible at Jerusalem in
the year 750 A. U. C, B. C. 4, must have taken place in the night between the 12th
and 13th of March (Wieseler, p. 56). Our era was invented by Dionysius Exiguus,
an abbot at Rome, who died in 556. See Appendix, Excursus I. , " Date of Christ's
Birth." 2 Astrologers divided the Zodiac into four trigons — that of fire (Aries, Leo,
Sagittarius) ; that of earth (Taurus, Virgo, Capricornus) ; that of air (Gemini,
Libra, Aquarius) ; and that of water (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces). (Wieseler, Synop
sis of the Four Gospels, E. Tr., p. 57.) — On the astrology of the Jews in general,
see Gfrijrer, Jahrh. des Heils, ii. 116.
3 The star observed ¦ by Tycho lasted from November, 1572, till about April,
1574. Such temporary stars are perhaps due to immense combustions of hydro
gen. See Guillemin, The Heavens, pp. 310 — 313 ; Humboldt's Cosmos, ii. 323 — 333
(ed. Sabine).
4 There may, therefore, be no exaggeration in the language of Ignatius (Ep. ad
Ephes. § 19), when he says, " The star sparkled brilliantly above all' stars "

54 THE LIFE OF GHRIST.
Jupiter and Saturn in the same trigon about every twenty years, but
in every 200 years they pass into another trigon, and are not con
joined in the same trigon again (after passing through the entire
Zodiac), till after a lapse of 794 years, four months, and twelve days.
By calculating backwards, Kepler discovered that the same conjunc
tion of Jupiter and Saturn, in Pisces, had happened no less than three
times in the year A. U. C. 747, and that the planet Mars had joined
them in the spring of 748 ; and the general fact that there was such
a combination at this period has been verified by a number of inde
pendent investigators,' and does not seem to admit of denial. And
however we may apply the fact, it is certainly an interesting one.
For such a conjunction would at once have been interpreted by
the Chaldaean observers as indicating the approach of some memora
ble event ; and since it occurred in the constellation Pisces, which
was supposed by astrologers to be immediately connected with the
fortunes of Judaea," it would naturally turn their thoughts in that
direction. The form of then- interpretation would be moulded, both
by the astrological opinions of the Jews — which distinctly point to
this very conjunction as* an indication of the Messiah — and by the
expectation of a Deliverer which was so widely spread at the period
in which they lived.
The appearance and disappearance of new stars is a phenomenon
by no means so rare as to admit of any possible doubt.3 The fact
that St. Matthew speaks of such a star within two or three years, at
the utmost, of a time when we know that there was this remarkable

1 He supposed that the other conjunctions would coincide with seven great cli
macteric years or epochs : Adam, Enoch, the Deluge, Moses, Isaiah (about the
commencement of the Greek, Roman, and Babylonian eras), Christ, Charlemagne,
and the Reformation.
1 Kepler's first tract on this subject was De nova Stella in pede Serpentarii,
Prague, 1606. He was followed by Ideler, Handbuch der Chronologie, ii. 406 ;
Pfaff, Das Liaht und die Weltgegenden, Barnb., 1821 ; Miinter, Stern d. Weisen,
Copenhag., 1827 ; Schumacher, Schubert, Encke, Goldschmidt, &c. Professor
Pritchard carefully went through Kepler's calculations, and confirms the fact of
the conjunction, though he slightly modifies the dates, and, like most recent in
quirers, denies that the phenomenon has any bearing on the Gospel narrative.
That such astronomical facts are insufficient to explain the language of St. Mat
thew, if taken with minute and literal accuracy, is obvious ; but that they have
no bearing on the circumstances as they were reported to the Evangelist perhaps
half a century later, is more than can be safely affirmed.
: Sepp, who always delights in the most fanciful and unfounded combinations,
connects this fact with the Fish (1XOT2 = 'Irjdovi Xpi6toi Qeov TioS
2oor?}p) as the well-known symbol of the Church and of Christians. (Leben
Jesu, p. 7.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 55
planetary conjunction, and the fact that there was such a star nearly
1,600 years afterwards, at the time of a similar conjunction, can only
be regarded as a curious coincidence. We should, indeed, have a
strong and strange confirmation of one main fact in St. Matthew's
narrative, if any reHance could be placed on the assertion that, in the
astronomical tables of the Chinese, a record has been preserved that
a new star did appear in the heavens at this very epoch.1 But it
would be obviously idle to build on a datum which is so incapable of
verification and so enveloped with uncertainty.
We are, in fact, driven to the conclusion that the astronomical
researches which have proved the reality of this remarkable plane
tary conjunction are only valuable as showing the possibility that it
may have prepared the Magi for the early occurrence of some great
event. And this confident expectation may have led to their journey
to Palestine, on the subsequent appearance of an evanescent star, an
appearance by no means unparalleled in the records of astronomy,
but which in this instance " seems to rest on the authority of the
Evangelist alone.
No one, at any rate, need stumble over the supposition that
an apparent sanction is thus extended to the combinations of
astrology. Apart from astrology altogether, it is conceded by
many wise and candid observers, even by the great Niebuhr, the last
man in the world to be carried away by credulity or superstition, that
great catastrophes and unusual phenomena in nature have, as a mat
ter of fact — however we may choose to interpret such a fact — syn
chronized in a remarkable manner with great events in human
1 This is mentioned by Wieseler, p. 61. We cannot, however, press the Evan
gelist's use of ddrr/p, " a star," rather than ddrpov, " a constellation ;" the two
words are loosely used, and of ten almost indiscriminately interchanged. Further
than this it must be steadily borne in mind (v. supra, note 2, page 54), that the
curious fact of the planetary conjunction, even if it were accompanied by an
evanescent star, would not exactly coincide with, though it might to some extent
account for, the language used by St. Matthew.
2 It is remarkable that the celebrated Abarbanel (d. 1508), in his nyBVI ^D, or
" wells of salvation" — a commentary on Daniel — distinctly says that the conjunc
tion of Jupiter and Saturn always indicates great events. He then gives five
mystic reasons why Pisces should be the constellation of the Israelites, and says
that there had been a conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in Pisces three years before
the birth of Moses. From a similar conjunction in his own days (1463), he expected
the speedy birth of the Messiah. What makes this statement (which is quoted
by Miinter, Stem d. Weisen, § 55 ; and Ideler, Handb. d. Ohronol, ii. 405) more
remarkable is, that Abarbanel must have been wholly ignorant of the conjunction
in A. U. C. 747. (See Ebrard, Gosp. Hist., E. Tr., p. 178.)

5(j THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
history.1 It would not, therefore, imply any prodigious folly on the
part of the Magi to regard the planetary conjunction as something
providentially significant. And if astrology be ever so absurd, yet
there is nothing absurd in the supposition that the Magi should be
led to truth, even through the gateways of delusion, if the spirit
of sincerity and truth was in them. The history of science will
furnish repeated instances, not only of the enormous discoveries
accorded to apparent accident, but even of the immense results
achieved in the investigation of innocent and honest error. Saul
who, in seeking asses, found a kingdom, is but a type of many another
seeker in many another age."
The Magi came to Bethlehem, and offered to the young child in
his rude and humble resting-place 3 a reverence which we do not hear
that they had paid to the usurping Edomite in his glittering palace.
" And when they had- opened their treasures they presented unto
him gifts, gold, and frankincense, and myrrh." The imagination of
early Christians has seen in each gift a special significance : myrrh
for the human nature, gold to the king, frankincense to the divinity ;
or, the gold for the race of Shem, the myrrh for the race of Ham,
the incense for the race of Japhet ;• — innocent fancies, only worthy
of mention because of their historic interest, and their bearing on
the conceptions of Christian poetry and Christian art. 4
1 See Niebuhr's Led. on Hist, of Rome, ii. 103, ed. Schmitz.
2 " Superstition," says Neander, " often paves the way for faith." " How
often," says Hamann, " has God condescended not merely to the feelings and
thoughts of men, but even to their failings and their prejudices."
8 Matt. ii. 11 (si$ rrjv oixiavn) seems to show, what would of course be prob
able, that the stall or manger formed but a brief resting-place. It is needless to
call attention to the obvious fact that St. Matthew does not mention the birth in
the inn, or the previous journey from Nazareth. It is not necessary to assume
that he was wholly unaware of these circumstances, though I see no difficulty in
the admission that such may have been the case.
4 " Dant tibi Chaldaei praenuntia munera reges,
Myrrham homo, rex aurum, suscipe thura Deus." 30 (Ps. Claudian.)
" Thus, aurum, myrrham, regique, hominique, Deoque,
Dona ferunt." 31 (Juvenc. Hist. Ev., 249.)
" Aurea nascenti fuderunt munera regi,
Thura dedere Deo, myrrham tribuere sepulcro." a2 (Sedulius, ii. 95.)
See, too, Orig c. Cels., p.. 47, Iren. iii. 10, and many other ancient fancies in Hof
mann, Das Leben Jesu nach d. Apokr., p. 128 ; and others may be found in the
Latin Hymns of Mauburn, &c.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 57

CHAPTER IV.
THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT, AND THE MASSACRE OF THE INNOCENTS.
" Salvete floros martyrum
Quos, lucis ipso in limine,
Christi insecutor sustulit,
Ceu turbo nascentes rosas." 33
Prudent, De S3. Innocentt.
When they had offered their gifts, the Wise Men would naturally
have returned to Herod, but being warned of God in a dream, they
returned to their own land another way. Neither in Scripture, nor
in authentic history, nor even in early apocryphal tradition, do we
find any further traces of their existence ; but their visit led to very
memorable events.
The dream which warned them of danger may very probably have
fallen in with their own doubts about the cruel and crafty tyrant who
had expressed a hypocritical desire to pay his homage to the Infant
King ; and if, as we may suppose, they imparted to Joseph any hint
as to their misgivings, he too would be prepared for the warning
dream which bade him fly to Egypt to save the young child from
Herod's jealousy.
Egypt has, in all ages, been the natural place of" refuge for all who
were driven from Palestine by distress, persecution, or discontent.
Rhinokolura, the river of Egypt, or as Milton, with his usual exquisite
and learned accuracy, calls it, —
" The brook that parts
Egypt from Syrian ground," '
might have been reached by the fugitives in three days ; and once
upon the further bank, they were beyond the reach of Herod's juris
diction. Of the flight, and its duration, Scripture gives us no further par-
1 Milton has, however, been misled by the word wady, and its translation by
" brook " in our version. Mr. Grove informs me that Rhinocolura, now Wady
el-Areesh) the Nachal Mitzraim, or " river of Egypt," (Numb, xxxiv. 5, &c), is a
broad shallow wady with scarcely a trace of a bank. Still, as is usual in desert
valleys, a torrent does flow through the bottom of it after winter rains.
8

58 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ticulars ; telling us only that the Holy Family fled by night from
Bethlehem, and returned when Joseph had again been assured by a
dream that it would be safe to take back the Saviour to the land of
His nativity. It is left to apocryphal legends, immortalized by the
genius of Italian art, to tell us how, on the way, the dragons came
and bowed to Him, the lions and leopards adored Him, the roses of
Jericho blossomed wherever His footsteps trod, the palm-trees at His '
command bent down to give them dates, the robbers were overawed
by His majesty, and the journey was miraculously shortened.1 They
tell us further how, at His entrance into the country, all the idols of the
land of Egypt fell from their pedestals with a sudden crash, and lay
shattered and broken upon their faces, and how many wonderful cures
of leprosy and demoniac possession were wrought by His word. All
this wealth and prodigality of superfluous, aimless, .and unmeaning
miracle — arising in part from a mere craving for the supernatural,
and in part from a fanciful application of Old Testament prophecies
— furnishes a strong contrast to the truthful simplicity of the Gospel
narrative. St. Matthew neither tells us where the Holy Family abode
in Egypt, nor how long their exile continued ; but ancient legends
say that they remained two " years absent from Palestine, and lived
at Matar6eh,3 a few miles north-east of Cairo, where a fountain was
long shown of which Jesus had made the water fresh, and an ancient
sycamore under which they had rested. The Evangelist alludes only
to the causes of their flight and of their return, and finds in the
latter a new and deeper significance for the words of the prophet
Hosea, " Out of Egypt have I called my Son." 4
 !  — 
1 See the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew xviii. — xxiv. ; Arab. Gospel of the Infancy,
xii. — xxv. ; B. H. Cowper, The Apocr. Gospels, pp. 56 — 64, 178 — 191 ; Hofmann,
pp. 140 — 183. Many of these legends are mere fanciful representations of Ps.
cxlviii. 7 ; Isa. xi. 6—9 ; Ixv. 25; xix. 1, &c. From the dissemination of the Gospel
of the Infancy in Arabia, many of these fables have exercised a strong influence
on the Mohammedan legends of Jesus. Some of the Rabbis took occasion from
the visit to Egypt to charge Christ with a knowledge of magic. Matathia, in the
Nizzachon, says that as Jesus did not know the Tetragrammaton, or ineffable name
of God, His miracles (the reality of which is not denied) were due to sorcery learnt
in Egypt (Sepp, Leben Jesu, § xiii.). It is hardly worth while to refer to trie pre
pqsterous story in the ToldSth Jeshii (Wagenseil, Tela Ignea, ii. p. 7).
2 St. Bonaventura (De Vita Ghristi) says seven years.
8 This town is sometimes identified with On, or Heliopolis, where lived Asenath
the wife of Joseph, and where, under the name of Osarsiph, Moses had been a-
priest. Onias, at the head of a large colony of Jewish refugees, flying from the
rage of Antiochus, had founded a temple there, and was thus believed to have
fulfilled the prophecy of Isa. xix. 19. (Sepp.)
4 " Finds a new and deeper significance, or, in other words, totally misunder
stands," is the marginal comment of a friend who saw these pages. And so, no

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 59
The flight into Egypt led to a very memorable event. Seeing that
the Wise Men had not returned to him, the alarm and jealousy of
Herod assumed a still darker and more malignant aspect. He had
no means of identifying the royal infant of the seed of David, and
least of all would he have been likely to seek for Him in the cavern
stable of the village khan. But he knew that the child whom the
visit of the Magi had taught him to regard as a future rival of him
self or of his house was yet an infant at the breast ; and as Eastern
mothers usually suckle their children for two years,1 he issued his fell,
mandate to slay all the children of Bethlehem and its neighborhood
" from two years old and under." Of the method by which the
decree was carried out we know nothing. The children may have
been slain secretly, gradually, and by various forms of murder ; or,
as has been generally supposed, there may have been one single hour
of dreadful butchery." The decrees of tyrants like Herod are usually
involved in a deadly obscurity ; they reduce the world to a torpor in
which it is hardly safe to speak above a whisper. But the wild wail
of anguish which rose from the mothers thus cruelly robbed of their
infant children could not be hushed, and they who heard it might well
imagine that Rachel, the great ancestress of their race, whose tomb
stands by the roadside about a mile from Bethlehem, once more, as
doubt, it might at first appear to our .Western and Northern conceptions and
methods of criticism ; but not so to an Oriental and an Analogist. Trained to
regard every word, nay, every letter of Scripture as mystical and divine, accus
tomed to the application of passages in various senses, all of which were supposed
to be latent, in some mysterious fashion, under the original utterance, St. Matthew
would have regarded his least apparently relevant quotations from, and allusions
to, the Old Testament, not in the light of occasional illustrations, but in the light
of most solemn prophetic references to the events about which he writes. And
in so doing he would be arguing in strict accordance with the views in which
those for whom he wrote had been trained from their earliest infancy. Nor is
there, even to our modern conceptions, anything erroneous or unnatural in the
fact that the Evangelist transfers to the Messiah the language which Hosea had
applied to the ideal Israel. The ideal Israel — i. «., the ideal "Jashar " or " Upright
Man" — was the obvious and accepted type of the coming Christ. — The quotation
is from Hosea xi. 1,'and St. Matthew has here referred to the original, and cor
rected the faulty rendering of the LXX., whichis ££ Atyvrttov /xerexdXeda rd
rexva avrov. u See Excursus XI., *' Old Testament Quotations in the Evangelists. ''
1 Eetubhdth, 59 6 y 2 Mace. vii. 27, "gave thee suck three years." Others refer
the calculation to the previous appearance of the planetary conjunction; and if
this took place A. U. C. 747, and Jesus was born (as is all but certain) A. U. C.
750, it is a curious coincidence that Abarbanel, as we have already mentioned,
places the astrological " aspect " which foreshadowed the birth of Moses three
years before that event took place.
* The Protevang. says (xxi. 1) that he dispatched the assassins to Bethlehem
(eitSMifrs rovi <porevrds 85.)

(JO THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
in the pathetic image of the prophet, mingled her voice with the
mourning and lamentation of those who wept so inconsolably for
their murdered little ones.1
To us there seems something inconceivable in a crime so atrocious ;
but our thoughts have been softened by eighteen centuries of Chris
tianity, and such deeds are by no means unparalleled in the history
of heathen despots and of the ancient world. Infanticide of a
deeper dye than this of Herod's was a crime dreadfully rife in the
days of the Empire, and the Massacre of the Innocents, as well as
the motives which led to it, can be illustrated by several circumstances
in the history of this very epoch. Suetonius, in his Life of Augustus,
quotes from the life of the Emperor by his freedman Julius Mara-
thus, a story to the effect that shortly before his birth there was a
prophecy in Rome that a king over the Roman people would soon be
born. To obviate this danger to the Republic, the Senate ordered
that all the male children born in that year should be abandoned or
exposed ; but the Senators, whose wives were pregnant, took means
to prevent the ratification of the statute, because each of them hoped
that the prophecy might refer to his own child." Again, Eusebius "
quotes from Hegesippus, a Jew by birth, a story that Domitian,
alarmed by the growing power of the name of Christ, issued an
order to destroy all the descendants of the house of David. Two
grandchildren of St. Jude — "the Lord's brother" — were still
living, and were known as the Desposyni* They were betrayed to
1 Jer. xxxi. 15, applied originally to the Captivity. In this quotation also St.
Matthew has translated freely from the Hebrew original. The remark of Calvin,
that " Matthew does not mean that the prophet had predicted wliat Herod should do;
but that, at the advent of Christ, that mourning was renewed which many years
before the women of Bethlehem had made," is characterized by his usual strong
and honest common sense, and must be borne in mind in considering several of
the Gospel references to ancient prophecy. It applies to St. Matthew more
strongly than to the other Evangelists. On this, as on other points of exegesis,
there can be no question whatever, in the mind of any competent scholar, that
the theology of the Reformation, and even of the Fathers, was freer, manlier, less
shackled by false theories about inspiration, and less timid of ignorant criticism
than that which claims to be the sole orthodox theology of the present day.
2 Suet. Vit. Aug., p. 94. — As history, no doubt the anecdote is perfectly worth
less, but it is not worthless as illustrating what we otherwise know to have been
possible in an age in which, as is still the case in China, infanticide was hardly
regarded as a disgrace.
3 Hist. Ecc. iii. 15.
4 This fact is mentioned by Julius Africanus, who was born at Emmaus, about
the beginning of the third century, and who says that he knew some of the De-
sposyni personally. (Euseb. Hist. Ecc. i. 7.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. g|
the Emperor by a certain Jocatus, and other Nazarasan heretics, and
were brought into the imperial presence; but when Domitian
observed that they only held the rank of peasants, and that their
hands were hard with manual toil, he dismissedthem in safety with
a mixture of pity and contempt.
Although doubts have been thrown on the Massacre of the Inno
cents, it is profoundly in accordance with all that we know of
Herod's character. The master-passions of that able but wicked
prince were a most unbounded ambition, and a most excruciating
jealousy.1 His whole career was red with the blood of murder. He
had massacred priests and nobles ; he had decimated the Sanhedrin ;
he had caused the High Priest, his brother-in-law, the young and
noble Aristobulus, to be. drowned in pretended sport before his eyes ;
he had ordered the strangulation of his favorite wife, the beautiful
Asmonsean princess Mariamne, though she seems to have been the
only human being whom he passionately loved." His sons Alexan
der, Aristobulus, and Antipater — his uncle Joseph — Antigonus and
Alexander, the uncle and father of his wife — his mother-in-law
Alexandra — his kinsman Cortobanus — his friends Dositheus and
Gadias, were but a few of the multitudes who fell victims to his
sanguinary, suspicious, and guilty terrors. His brother Pheroras and
his son Archelaus barely and narrowly escaped execution by his
orders. Neither the blooming youth of the prince Aristobulus, nor
the white hairs of the king Hyrcanus had protected them from his
fawning and treacherous fury. Deaths by strangulation, deaths by
burning, deaths by being cleft asunder, deaths by secret assassina
tion, confessions forced by unutterable torture, acts of insolent and
inhuman lust, mark the annals of a reign which was so cruel that, in
the energetic language of the Jewish ambassadors to the Emperor
Augustus, " the survivors during his lifetime were even more misera
ble than the sufferers." 3 And as in the case of Henry VIII., every
dark and brutal instinct of his character seemed to acquire fresh
_
1 Jos. Antt. xvi. 5, § 4.
2 The feelings of Herod towards Mariamne, who, as a Maccabaean princess, had
far more right to the sovereignty than himself, were not unlike those of Henry VII.
towards Elizabeth of York, and in a less degree those of William III. towards
Mary. Herod was well aware that he owed his sovereignty solely to "the
almighty Romans." Aristobulus was murdered at the age of eighteen, Hyrcanus
at the age of eighty ; and he hated them alike for their popularity, and for their
Maccabaean origin. More ghosts must have gathered round the dying bed of this
" gorgeous criminal " than those which the fancy of Shakespeare has collected
round the bed of Richard III.
3 Jos. Antt. xvii. 11, § 2.

62 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
intensity as his life drew towards its close. Haunted by the spectres
of his murdered wife and murdered' sons, agitated by the conflict
ing furies of remorse and blood, the pitiless monster, as Josephus
calls him, was seized" in his last days by a black and bitter ferocity,
which broke out against all with whom he came in contact.1 There
is no conceivable difficulty in supposing that such a man — a savage
barbarian with a thin veneer of corrupt and superficial civilization —
would have acted in the exact manner which St. Matthew describes ;
and the belief in the fact receives independent confirmation from
various sources. " Oh Augustus being informed," says Macrobius,
" that among the boys under two years of age whom Herod ordered to
be slain in Syria, his own son also had been slain," " It is better," said
he " to be Herod's pig (vv) than his son (viov)." " Although Macro
bius is a late writer, and made the mistake of supposing that Herod's
son Antipater, who was put to death about the same time as the
Massacre of the Innocents, had actually perished in that mas
sacre, it is clear that the form in which he narrates the bon mot of
Augustus points to some dim reminiscence of this cruel slaughter.
Why then, it has been asked, does Josephus make no mention of
so infamous an atrocity? Perhaps because it was performed so
secretly that he did not even know of it. Perhaps because, in those
terrible days, the murder of a score of children, in consequence of a
transient suspicion, would have been regarded as an item utterly
insignificant in the list of Herod's murders." Perhaps because it was
¦Jos. Antt. xvii. 6, §5, /usXaiva x°^-V ocvrov ypsi inl icddiv i^aypiai-
vovda ; 3S B. J. i. 30, § 4, kitroyTo rcS <po/3a) xai npoi -rcddav xnlovoiav
i^eppncriZETo.^^-" Most miserable family, even to the third generation, to be
imbued so deep beyond any other in blood ; one steeped in the blood of infant
martyrs, the other in that of John the Baptist, and the third who slew James the
Apostle with the sword — all three conspicuous in the persecution of Christ."
(Williams, The Nativ. 132.)
5 Saturnal. ii. 4, "Augustus cum audisset, inter pueros, quos in Syria Herodes
infra bimatum '(cf. Matt. ii. 16, dxo SierovS kcA xaroorepao ¦ Vulg., " a bimatu
et infra ") inter jwi jussit, folium quoque ejus occisum, ait, Melius est Herodis porcum
(vv) esse quam puerum (uroV)."38 The pun cannot be preserved in English.
Augustus meant that Herod's pig, since, as a Jew, he could not eat it, would be
safer than his son. Herod had to ask the Emperor's leave before putting his sons
to death; and Antipater, whom he ordered to be executed only five days before
his death, was the third who had undergone this fate. — Macrobius lived about
A. D. 400, but he used early materials, and the pun is almost certainly historical.
8 The probable number of the Innocents has been extraordinarily exaggerated.
An Ethiopian legend makes them 14,000 I Considering that Bethlehem was but
a village of perhaps 2,000. inhabitants, we may safely hope that, even in all its
boundaries, not more than twenty were sacrificed, and perhaps not half that num-

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 63
passed over in silence by Nikdlaus of Damascus, who, writing in the
true spirit of those HeUenizing courtiers, who wanted to make a polit
ical Messiah out of a corrupt and blood-stained usurper, magnified all
his patron's achievements, and concealed or palliated all his crimes.'
But the more probable reason is that Josephus, whom, in spite of ¦
all the immense literary debt which we owe to him, we can only
regard as a renegade and a sycophant, did not choose to make any
allusion to facts which were even remotely connected with the ljf e of
Christ. The single passage in which he alludes to Him is inter
polated, if not wholly spurious, and no one can doubt that his silence
on the subject of Christianity was as deliberate as it was dishonest."
But although Josephus does not distinctly mention the event, yet
every single circumstance which he does tell us about this very period
of Herod's life supports its probability. At this very time two elo-
ber ; especially as the and Sisrovi may mean (as Greswell supposes) "just beyond
the age of one year."
1 Nikolaus was to Herod what Velleius Paterculus was to Tiberius. Josephus's
own opinion of the kind of men who were Herod's creatures and parasites may
be found in his Antt. xvi. 5, § 4. As to Josephus, his own narrative is his worst
condemnation, and De Quincey's estimate of him ( Works, vi. 272 — 275) is not too
severe. His works betray some of the worst characteristics of the Oriental and
the Pharisee. He may have omitted all mention of Christ out of sheer per
plexity, although he certainly rejected His Me'ssiahship (Orig. c. Cels. i. 35).
Nothing is more common in historians and biographers than the deliberate sup
pression of awkward and disagreeable facts. Justus of Tiberius, another contem
porary historian, was also purposely reticent. Does any one doubt the murder
of Crispus because Eusebius takes no notice of it in his life of Constantino ? But
perhaps, after all, there is an allusion — though guarded and distant — to this
crime, or at any rate to the circumstances which led to it, in the Antiquities of
Josephus (xvi. 11, § 7 ; xvii. 2, § 4), where it is narrated that Herod slew a num
ber of Pharisees and others because they foretold " how God had decreed that
Herod's government should cease, and his posterity should be deprived of it."
Possibly another allusion (though out of place) may be found in xiv. 9, § 4, where
we hear of a clamor against Herod, raised by " The mothers of those who had
been slain by him "
2 This celebrated passage is as follows : — Antt. xviii. 3, § 3 : PiyvErai Si
xard rovrov toy xpovov 'IrjdovS, docpoi avr/p lei ye avrov avSpa Xsysiv
XPV- Vv y^P\ KapaS6%mv spy gov itotr^rrji [SiSddxaXoi dvBpoortaov rtSv dvv
ijSovff rdXr^Brj Sexo/J-e'vcov] xai rtoXXovS fiiv ro3V 'IovSaicov itoXXovS Si xal
died rov 'EXXr/vzxov iityydyero ['0 Xpidroi, ovroi tfv.] Kai avrov iv-
Sei^Ei tgov itpcoroov dvSpcSv itap rjiiiv dravpcS ittix etiiatjkot o? Hikdrov,
ovx iitavdavro o'i ye icpwtov avrov dyaiCijdavrEi. £Eq>avr/ ydp avroiS
rpirrjv e'xgov rjiMipav icdXiv ?o5V, rmv Beicov itpoqxr]T&ov ravrd te xai dXXa
livpia TCEpi avrov dav/uddia Etpr/xormv^ EiS eti vvv tgov Xpidxiavmv
dito rovSe aovofiadfiEvoov ovx iicsXiits to cpvXov.™ The only other allusion
to Jesus in Josephus is also of dubious authenticity (Antt. xx. 9, § 1), where he
calls James rov dSsXaiov 'fydov rov Xeyofis'vov XpidTov.*0

64 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
quent Jewish teachers, Judas and Matthias, had incited their scholars
to pull down the large golden eagle which Herod had placed above
the great gate of the Temple. Josephus connects this bold attempt
with premature rumors of Herod's death ; but Lardner's conjecture
that it may have been further encouraged by the Messianic hopes
freshly kindled by the visit of the Wise Men, is by no means impos
sible. The attempt, however, was defeated, and Judas and Matthias,
with forty of their scholars, were burned alive. With such crimes
as this before him on every page, Josephus might well have ignored
the secret assassination of a few unweaned infants in a little village.
Then- blood was but a drop in that crimson river in which Herod
was steeped to the very lips.
It must have been very shortly after the murder of the Innocents
that Herod died. Only five days before his death he had made a
frantic attempt at suicide, and had ordered the execution of his eldest
son Antipater. His deathbed, which once more reminds us of Henry
VIII., was accompanied by circumstances of peculiar horror, and it
has been noticed that the loathsome disease x of which he died is
hardly mentioned in history, except in the case of men- who have
been rendered infamous by an atrocity of persecuting zeal." On his
bed of intolerable anguish, in that splendid and luxurious palace
which he had built for himself under the palms of Jericho, swollen
with disease and scorched by thirst — ulcerated externally and glow
ing inwardly with " a soft, slow fire " — surrounded by plotting sons
and plundering slaves, detesting all and detested by all — longing for
death as a release from his tortures, yet dreading it as the beginning
of worse terrors — stung by remorse, yet still unslaked with murder
— a horror to all. around him, yet in his guilty conscience a worse
terror to himself — devoured by the premature corruption of an
1 The morbus pedicularis, or phthiriasis. See Lactantius, De Mortibus p,ersecu-
torum, cap. xxxiii., where, describing the disease of Maximian in terms which
would serve equally well to record what is told us of the death of Herod, he says,
" Percussit eum Deus insanabili plaga. Nascitur ei ulcus malum ininferiori parte
genitalium, serpitque latius .... proxima quaeque cancer invadit ....
jam non longe pernicies aberat, et inferiora omnia corripuerat. Computrescunt
forinsecus viscera, et in tabem sedes tota dilabitur . . . Vermes intus cre-
antur. Odor it autem non modo per palatium, sed totam pervadit civitatem." 41
There is more and worse, which I spare the reader, especially since it is very
doubtful whether there is such a disease as the morbus pedicularis. — There is
a somewhat similar account of the deathbed of Henry VIII. in Forster's Essay on
Popular Progress. " Now Herod died the worst kind of death, suffering punish
ment for the shed blood of the children," &c. (Hist, of Jos. the Carpenter, ix.)
2 E. g., Antiochus Epiphanes, Sylla, Maximian, Diocletian, Herod the Great,
Herod Agrippa, the Duke of Alva, Henry VIII, &c.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 65
anticipated grave — eaten of worms as though visibly smitten by the
finger of God's wrath after seventy years of successful villainy — the
wretched old man, whom men had called the Great, lay in savage
frenzy awaiting his laBt hour.1 As he knew that none would shed
one tear for him, he determined that they should shed many for
themselves, and issued an order that, under pain of death, the prin
cipal families in the kingdom and the chiefs of the tribes should
come to Jericho.' They came, and then, shutting them in the hippo
drome, he secretly commanded his sister Salome that at the moment
of his death they should all be massacred. And so, choking as it were
with blood, devising massacres in its very delirium, the soul of Herod
passed forth into the night.
In purple robes, with crown and sceptre and precious stones, the
corpse was placed upon its splendid bier, and accompanied with mili
tary pomp and burning incense to its grave in the Herodium, not far
from the place where Christ was born. But the spell of the Herodian
dominion was broken, and the people saw how illusory had been its
glittering fascination. The day of Herod's death was, as he had fore
seen, observed as a festival. His will was disputed ; his kingdom
disintegrated; his last order was disobeyed; his sons died for the
most part in infamy and exile; the curse of God was on his house,
and though, by ten wives and many concubines, he seems to have
had nine sons and five daughters, yet within a hundred years the
family of the hierodoulos of Ascalon had perished by disease or vio
lence, and there was no living descendant to perpetuate his name."
If the intimation of Herod's death 3 was speedily given to Joseph,
the stay in Egypt must have been too short to influence in any way
the human development of our Lord. This may perhaps be the rea
son why St. Luke passes it over in silence.

a

1 The title first occurs in Jos Antt. xviii. 5, § 4. He was beginning the thirty-
eighth year of his reign. It has been suggested that " the Great" is a mistaken
rendering of K3"l, " the elder." " Nur aus Missverstandniss eines Hebraischen Aus-
druckes ;" cf. 'EXxiai 6 ixiyai (Antt. xviii. 8, § 4). Ewald (Gesch. iv. 473) thinks
that the name may possibly have originated from coins, as Agrippa I. is called
RadikEvi /ueya? on a coin. In this case it may merely imply that he was not a
mere tetrarch, or ethnarch, but a king of Palestine— just as Indian princes call
themselves Maharajah. In any case, " L'epithete de grand que l'histoire lui a
donnSe est une amere derision : sa grandeur consistait a §tre un magnifique esclave,
portant des chaines d'or" "2 (Munk, Palest., 560).
2 Antipater father of Herod, is said to have been a hierodoulos or servitor in a
temple of Apollo at Ascalon. Compare the rapid extinction of the sons of Philip
the Fair. . .
* The plural rsBv/jxadt may be merely general, or it is perhaps a reference to
Exod. iv. 19. 9

66 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
It seems to have been the first intention of Joseph to fix his home
in Bethlehem. It was the city of his ancestors, and was hallowed by
many beautiful and heroic associations. It would have been easy to
find a living there by a trade which must almost anywhere have sup
plied the simple wants of a peasant family. It is true that an Orien
tal rarely leaves his home, but when he has been compelled by cir
cumstances to do so, he finds it comparatively easy to settle elsewhere.
Having once been summoned to Bethlehem, Joseph might find a
powerful attraction in the vicinity of the little town to Jerusalem ;
and the more so since it had recently been the scene of such memo
rable circumstances. But, on his way, he was met by the news that
Archelaus ruled in the room of his father Herod.1 The people would
only too gladly have got rid of the whole Idumsean race ; at the
worst they would have preferred Antipas to Archelaus. But Augus
tus had unexpectedly decided in favor of Archelaus, who, though
younger than Antipas, was the heir nominated by the last will of his
father ; and as though anxious to show that he was the true son of
that father, Archelaus, even before his inheritance had been con
firmed by Roman authority, " had," as Josephus " scornfully remarks,
" given to his subjects a specimen of his future virtue, by ordering a
slaughter of 3,000 of his own countrymen at the Temple." It was
clear that under such a government there could be neither hope nor
safety ; and Joseph, obedient once more to an intimation of God's
will, seeking once more the original home of himself and Mary,
" turned aside into the parts of Galilee," 3 where, in remote obscu
rity, sheltered by poverty and insignificance, the Holy Family might
five secure under the sway of another son of Herod — the equally
unscrupulous, but more indolent and indifferent Antipas.
1 Matt. ii. 22. He was saluted " king " by the army, though he declined the title.
Similarly Josephus gives the name of " kingdom " to the tetrarchy of Lysanias
(B. J. ii. 11, § 5). The word ftadiXsvEi seems, however — if taken quite strictly
— to show that the return from Egypt was very shortly after the flight thither ; for
it was only during a short time after his father's death that'Archelaus strictly had
the title of king (cf Jos. B. J. ii. 1, § 1). When he went to Rome for the con
firmation of his title, Augustus only allowed him to be called ethnarch ; but before
this time his assumptions of royalty, by sitting on a golden throne, &c, were actu
ally part of Antipater's charges against him, and at this period Josephus dis
tinctly calls him the "king" (Antt. xvii. 9, § 2). It is remarkable how near the
Evangelists often seem to be to an inaccuracy, while yet closer inspection shows
them to be, in these very points, minutely accurate.
2 Antt. xvii. 11, § 2. Augustus afterwards banished him for his tyranny and
insolence, and he died at Vienne in Gaul, A. D. 7 (id. 13, § 2).
3 Matt, ii 22, dvBxaapijdEv, not " returned," but " retired." The same word is
used of the flight into Egypt (Matt. ii. 14). St. Luke (ii. 39) was either unaware
of the flight into Egypt, or passed it over as having no bearing on his subject.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. g7

CHAPTER V.
THE BOYHOOD OF JESUS.
" Try to become little with the Little One, that you may increase in stature
with Him." — St. Bona ventura, Vita Ghristi, ix.
" Le haut degre" de la perfection consiste Et participer a l'enfance sacree de notre
trSs doux, trSs humble, et trfes obeissant Servitenr."43 — St. Francois de
Sales. The physical geography of Palestine is, perhaps, more distinctly
marked than that of any other country in the world. Along the
shore of the Mediterranean runs the Shephelah and the maritime
plain, broken only by the bold spur of Mount Carmel ; parallel to
this is a long range of hills, for the most part rounded and feature
less in their character ; these, on their eastern side, plunge into the
deep declivity of El Gh6r, the Jordan valley ; and beyond the Jor
dan valley runs the straight, unbroken, purple line of the mountains
of Moab and Gilead. Thus the character of the country from north
to south may be represented by four parallel bands — the Sea-board,
the Hill country, the Jordan valley, and the Trans- Jordanic range.
The Hill country, which thus occupies the space between the low
maritime plain and the deep Jordan valley, falls into two great
masses, the continuity of the low mountain-range being broken by
the plain of Jezreel. The southern mass of those limestone hills
formed the land of Judea ; the northern, the land of Galilee.
Gdlil, in Hebrew, means " a circle," and the name was originally
applied to the twenty cities in the circuit of Kedesh-Naphtali, which
Solomon gave to Hiram in return for his services in transporting
timber, and to which Hiram, in extreme disgust, applied the name
of Cabul, or " disgusting." ' Thus it seems to have been always the
destiny of Galilee to be despised ; and that contempt was likely to
be fostered in the minds of the Jews from the fact that this district
became, from very early days, the residence of a mixed population,-
and was distinguished as " Galilee of the Gentiles." " Not only
1 See 1 Kings ix. 13. In Hebrew the word Cabul has no meaning, but it seems
to be put as an equivalent for a Phoenician word to which this meaning is
assigned. Josephus calls it xoc/3aXGOVj and explains it ovx dpsdxov (Antt. viii.
5, § 3).
¦ Compare Judg. iv. 2, " Harosheth of the Gentiles ;" and Isa. ix. 1 ; Matt. iv.
15 ; 1 Mace. v. 15—27.

68 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
were there many Phoenicians and Arabs in the cities of Galilee, but,
in the time of our Lord, there were also many Greeks, and the Greek
language was currently spoken and understood.
The hills which form the northern limit of the plain of Jezreel
run almost due east and west from the Jordan valley to the Medi
terranean, and their southern slopes were in the district assigned to
the tribe of Zebulun.
Almost in the centre of this chain of hills there is a singular cleft
in the limestone, forming the entrance to a little valley. As the
traveller leaves the plain he will ride up a steep and narrow pathway,
broidered with grass and flowers, through scenery which is neither
colossal nor overwhelming, but infinitely beautiful and picturesque.
Beneath him, on the right-hand side, the vale will gradually widen,
until it becomes about a quarter of a mile in breadth. The basin of
the valley is divided by hedges of cactus into little fields and gar
dens, which, about the fall of the spring rains, wear an aspect of
indescribable calm, and glow with a tint of the richest green.'
Beside the narrow pathway, at no great distance apart from each
other, are two wells, and the women who draw water there are more
beautiful, and the ruddy, bright-eyed shepherd boys who sit or play
by the well-sides, in their gay-colored Oriental costume, are a hap
pier, bolder, brighter-looking race than the traveller will have seen
elsewhere. Gradually the valley opens into a little natural amphithe
atre of hills, supposed by some to be the crater of an extinct vol
cano ; and there, clinging to the hollows of a hill, which rises to the
height of some five hundred feet above it, lie, " like a handful of
pearls in a goblet of emerald," the flat roofs and narrow streets of
a little Eastern town. There is a small church ; the massive build
ings of a convent ; the tall minaret of a- mosque ; a clear, abundant
fountain ; houses built of white stone, and gardens scattered among
them, umbrageous with figs and olives, and rich with the white and
scarlet blossoms of orange and pomegranate. In spring, at least,
everything about the place looks indescribably bright and soft;
doves murmur in the trees; the hoopoe flits about in ceaseless
activity; the bright blue roller-bird, the commonest and loveliest ,
bird of Palestine, flashes like a living sapphire over fields which

1 An early pilgrim, Antoninus Martyr, speaks of Nazareth with a sincerity of
enthusiasm which many a modern traveller would echo. " In civitate tanta est
gratia mulierum Hebraearum ut inter Hebraeas pulcriores non inveniantur, et hoc
u S. Maria sibi concessum dicunt  Provincia paradiso svmilis
in tritico, in frugibus similis jEgypto, sed praecellit in vino et oleo, pomis ac
melle." " (Quoted by Caspari, p. 53.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 69
are enamelled with innumerable flowers. And that little town is En
Ndzirah, Nazareth,1 where the Son of God, the Saviour of man
kind, spent nearly thirty years of His mortal life. It was, in fact,
His home, His native village for all but three or four years of His
life on earth ; the village which lent its then ignominious name to
the scornful title written upon His cross ; the village from which He
did not disdain to draw His appellation when He spake in vision to
the persecuting Saul." And along the narrow mountain-path which
I have described, His feet must have often trod, for it is the only
approach by which, in returning northwards from Jerusalem, He
could have reached the home of His infancy, youth, and manhood.
What was His manner of life during those thirty years ? • It is a
question which the Christian cannot help asking in deep reverence,
and with yearning love ; but the words in which the Gospels answer
it are very calm and very few.
Of the four Evangelists, St. John, the beloved disciple, and St.
Mark, the friend and " son " of St. Peter,3 pass over these thirty
years in absolute, unbroken silence. St. Matthew devotes one chap
ter to the visit of the Magi, and the Flight into Egypt, and then pro
ceeds to the preaching of the Baptist. St. Luke alone, after describ
ing the incidents which marked the presentation in the Temple,
preserves for us one inestimable anecdote of the Saviour's boyhood,
and one inestimable verse descriptive of His growth till He was twelve
years old. And that verse contains nothing for the gratification of
our curiosity ; it furnishes us with no details of life, no incidents of
adventure ; it tells us only how, in a sweet and holy childhood, " the
child grew and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom, and the
grace of God was upon Him." To this period of His life, too, we
may apply the subsequent verse, " And Jesus increased in wisdom
and stature, and in favor with God and man." His development
was a strictly human development. He did not come into the world
1 Nazareth is not mentioned in the Old Testament ; unless it be identical with
Sarid, which is mentioned as the border of the inheritance of Zebulun in Josh.
xix. 10, 12. The position accurately corresponds, but it is philologically difficult
to suppose that Nazareth is a corruption — as some have suggested — of En Sarid
(the fountain or spring of Sarid). It has been more usually connected with Net-
ser (a branch), and perhaps in allusion to this St. Jerome compares it to an open
ing rose, and calls it " the flower of Galilee." It is not once mentioned by
Josephus. - John xix. 19 ; Luke ii. 51 ; Acts xxii. 8.
3 " Marcus, my son " (1 Pet. v. 13). Papias, quoted by Eusebius, says of Mark,
ipar/vEvrr/S Ue'rpov yevojue'voS dxpifiaSs k'ypaipEv ov pivroi rd^ei, rd
vitd rov Xpidrov r/ XExBevra rj lepaxBe'vra" (Hist. Ecc. iii. 40).

70 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
endowed with infinite knowledge, but, as St. Luke tells us, "He
gradually advanced in wisdom." ' He was not clothed with infinite
power, but experienced the weaknesses and imperfections of human
infancy. He grew as other children grow, only in a childhood of
stainless and sinless beauty — " as the flower of roses in the spring of
the year, and as lilies by the waters." "
There is, then, for the most part a deep silence in the Evangelists
respecting this period ; but what eloquence in their silence ! May we
not find in their very reticence a wisdom and an instruction more
profound than if they had filled many volumes with minor details?
In the first place, we may see in this their silence a signal and
striking confirmation of their faithfulness. We may learn from it
that they desired to tell the simple truth, and not to construct an
astonishing or plausible narrative. That Christ should have passed
thirty years of His brief life in the deep obscurity of a provincial vil
lage ; that He should have been brought up not only in a conquered
land, but in its most despised province ; not only in a despised prov
ince, but in its most disregarded valley ; 3 that during all those thirty
years the ineffable brightness of His divine nature should have taber
nacled among us, " in a tent like ours, and of the same material,"
unnoticed and unknown ; that during those long years there should
have been no flash of splendid circumstance, no outburst of amazing
miracle, no " sevenfold chorus of hallelujahs and harping symphonies "
to announce, and reveal, and glorify the coming King — this is not
what we should have expected — not what any one would have been
likely to imagine or to invent.
We should not have expected it, but it was so ; and therefore the
Evangelists leave it so ; and the very fact of its contradicting all that
we should have imagined, is an additional proof that so it must have
been. An additional proof, because the Evangelists must inevitably
have been — as, indeed, we know that they were — actuated by the
same a priori anticipations as ourselves; and had there been any
glorious circumstances attending the boyhood of our Lord, they, as
honest witnesses, would certainly have told us of them ; and had they
not been honest witnesses, they would — if none such occurred in

1 Luke ii. 52, itpoexoitrs dotpiqt. Cf. Heb. v. 8, e/uaBsv dip gov stfaQE. is.
* Comp. Ecclus. xxxix. 13, 14, " Hearken unto me, ye holy children, and bud
forth as a rose growing by the brook of the field : and give ye a sweet savor as
frankincense, and flourish as a lily, and send forth a smell, and sing a song of
praise." * The terms of Isa. ix. 1, 2, show in what estimation Galilee was held. Keim
also refers to Jos. Antt. xiii. 12, § 1 ; xiv. 9, § 2.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 7 J
reality — have most certainly invented them. But man's ways are not
as Cod's ways; and because the truth which, by their very silence,
the Evangelists record, is a revelation to us of the ways of God, and
not of man, therefore it contradicts what we should have invented ;
it disappoints what, without further enlightenment, we should have
desired. But, on the other hand, it fulfils the ideal of ancient
prophecy, " He shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as
a root out of a dry ground ; " and it is in accordance with subsequent
allusion, " He made himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the
form of a servant." '
We have only to turn to the Apocryphal Gospels, and we shall
find how widely different is the false human ideal from the divine
fact. There we shall see how, following their natural and unspiritual
bent, the fabulists of Christendom, whether heretical or orthodox,
surround Christ's boyhood with a~ blaze of miracle, make it porten
tous, terror-striking, unnatural, repulsive. It is surely an astonishing
proof that the Evangelists were guided by the Spirit of God in telling
how He lived in whom God was revealed to man, when we gradu
ally discover that no -profane, no irreverent, even no imaginative
hand can touch the sacred outlines of that divine and perfect picture
without degrading and distorting it. Whether the Apocryphal
writers meant their legends to be accepted as history or as fiction, it
is at least certain that in most cases they meant to weave around the
brows of Christ a garland of honor. Yet how do their stories dwarf,
and dishonor, and misinterpret Him ! How infinitely superior is the
noble simplicity of that evangelic silence to all the theatrical displays
of childish and meaningless omnipotence with which the Protevange-
lium, and the Pseudo-Matthew, and the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy
are full ! " They meant to honor Christ ; but no invention can
honor Him ; he who invents about Him degrades Him ; he mixes
the weak, imperfect, erring fancies of man with the unapproachable
and awful purposes of God. The boy Christ of the Gospels is sim
ple and sweet, obedient and humble ; He is subject to His parents ;
He is occupied solely with the quiet duties of His home and of His
1 Isa. liii. 2 ; Phil. ii. 7. — The Apocryphal Gospels are for the most part mere
worthless Hegaddth, in glorification (1) of the birth and virginity of Mary, (2) of
the childhood, and (3) of the passion of our Lord. They were widely spread
in the East, and traces of them may be found in the Koran (D'Herbelot, Bibl. Ori-
.ent. 499).
8 " Caveat omnia apocrypha. Sciat multa his admixta vitiosa, et grandis esse
prudentiae aurum in luto quaerere." 4' (Jer. Ep. ad Lactam. Praef. ad Lib. Regg.).
But, as a friend remarks, aurum in luto quaerere ** is, in some sad senses, a busi
ness of life.

72 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
age ; He loves all men, and all men love the pure, and gracious, and
noble child. Already He knows God as His Father, and the favor
of God falls on Him softly as the morning sun-fight, or the dew of
heaven, and plays like an invisible aureole round His infantine and
saintly brow. Unseen, save in the beauty of heaven, but yet covered
with silver wings, and with its feathers like gold, the Spirit of God
descended like a dove, and rested from infancy upon the Holy Child.
But how different is the boy Christ of the New Testament Apocry
pha ! He is mischievous, petulant, forward, revengeful. Some of
the marvels told of Him are simply aimless and puerile — as when
He carries the spilt water in His robe ; or pulls the short board to the
requisite length ; or moulds sparrows of clay, and then claps His
hand to make them fly ; or throws all the cloths into the dyer's vat,
and then draws them out each stained of the requisite color. But
some are, on the contrary, simply distasteful and inconsiderate, as
when He vexes and shames and silences those who wish to teach Him ;
or rebukes Joseph ; or turns His playmates into kids : and others are
simply cruel and blasphemous, as when He strikes dead with a curse
the boys who offend or run against Him, until at last there is a storm
of popular indignation, and Mary is afraid to let Him leave the house.
In a careful search through all these heavy, tasteless, and frequently
pernicious fictions, I can find but one anecdote in which there is a
touch of feeling, or possibility of truth ; and this alone I will quote
because it is at any rate harmless, and it is quite conceivable that it
may rest upon some slight basis of traditional fact. It is from the
Arabic Gospel of the Infancy, and runs as follows : '
" Now in the month of Adar, Jesus assembled the boys as if He
were their king ; they strewed their garments on the ground, and He
sat upon them. Then they put on His head a crown wreathed of
flowers, and, like attendants waiting upon a king, they stood in
order before Him on His right hand and on His left. And whoever
passed that way the boys took him by force, crying, ' Come hither
and adore the King, and then proceed upon thy way.' "
Yet I am not sure that the sacredness of the evangelic silence is
not rudely impaired even by so simple a fancy as this : for it was in
utter stillness, in prayerfulness, in the quiet round of daily duties
— like Moses in the wilderness, like David among the sheep-folds,
like Elijah among the tents of the Bedawin, like Jeremiah in his
1 Cap. 41. I quote the translation of Mr. B. Harris Cowper, whose admirable
volume has placed the Apocryphal Gospels within easy reach of all readers, un
learned as well as learned.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 73
quiet home at Anathoth, like Amos in the' sycamore groves of Tekoa
— that the boy Jesus prepared Himself, amid a hallowed obscurity,
for His mighty work on earth. His outward life was the life of all
those of His age, and station, and place of birth. He lived as lived
the other children of peasant parents in that quiet town, and in great
measure as they live now. He who has seen the children of Naza
reth in their red caftans, and bright tunics of silk or cloth, girded
with a many-colored sash, and sometimes covered with a loose outer
jacket of white or blue — he who has watched their noisy and merry
games, and heard their ringing laughter as they wander about the
hills of then- little native vale, or play in bands on the hill-side beside
their sweet and abundant fountain, may perhaps form some concep
tion of how Jesus looked and played when He too was a child. And
the traveller who has followed any of those children — as I have done
— to their simple homes, and seen the scanty furniture, the plain but
sweet and wholesome food, the uneventful, happy patriarchal life,
may form a vivid conception of the manner in which Jesus lived.
Nothing can be plainer than those houses, with the doves sunning
themselves on the white roofs, and the vines wreathing about them.
The mats, or carpets, are laid loose along the walls ; shoes and sandals
are taken off at the threshold ; from the centre hangs a lamp which
forms the only ornament of the room ; in some recess in the wall is
placed the wooden chest, painted with bright colors, which contains
the books or other possessions of the family ; on a ledge that runs
round the wall, within easy reach, are neatly rolled up the gay-colored
quilts, which serve as beds, and on the same ledge are ranged the
earthen vessels for daily use ; near the door stand the large common
water-jars of red clay with a few twigs and green leaves — Often of
aromatic shrubs — thrust into their orifices to keep the water cool.
At meal-time a painted wooden stool is placed in the centre of the
apartment, a large tray is put upon it, and in the middle of the tray
stands the dish of rice and meat, or libbdn, or stewed fruits, from
which all help themselves in common. Both before and after the^
meal the servant, or the youngest member of the family, pours water
over the hands from a brazen ewer into a brazen bowl. So quiet, so
simple, so humble, so uneventful was the outward life of the family
of Nazareth.1
1 Some of these facts have been exquisitely represented by Mr. Holman Hunt in
his truly noble picture, " The Shadow of Death." The above paragraphs were,
however, written before I had seen the picture. Readers of this book may be
interested to know that it was in Palestine, and at the author's request, that Mr.
10

74 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
The reverent devotion and brilliant fancy of the early mediaeval
painters have elaborated a very different picture. The gorgeous
pencils of a Giotto and a Fra Angelico have painted the Virgin and
her Child seated on stately thrones, upon floors of splendid mosaic,
under canopies of blue and gold ; they have robed them in colors
rich as the hues of summer or delicate as the flowers of spring, and
fitted the edges of their robes with golden embroidery, and clasped
them with priceless gems.1 Far different was the reality. When
Joseph returned to Nazareth he knew well that they were going into
seclusion as well as into safety ; and that the life of the Virgin and
the Holy Child would be spent, not in the full light of notoriety or
wealth, but in secrecy," in poverty, and in manual toil.
Yet this poverty was not pauperism ; there was nothing in it
either miserable or abject ; it was sweet, simple, contented, happy,
even joyous. Mary, like others of her rank, would spin, and cook
food, and go to buy fruit, and evening by evening visit the fountain,
still called after her " the Virgin's fountain," with her pitcher of
earthenware carried on her shoulder or her head. Jesus would play,
and learn, and help His parents in their daily tasks, and visit the
synagogues on the Sabbath days. "It is written," says Luther,
" that there was once a pious godly bishop, who had often earnestly
prayed that God would manifest to him what Jesus had done in His
youth. Once the bishop'had a dream to this effect. He seemed in
his sleep to see a carpenter working at his trade, and beside him a
little boy who was gathering up chips. Then came in a maiden
clothed in green, who called them both to come to the meal, and set
porridge before them. All this the bishop seemed to see in his
dream, himself standing behind the door that he might not be per
ceived. Then the little boy began and said, ' Why does that man
stand there % shall he not also eat with us ? ' And this so frightened
the bishop that he awoke." " Let this be what it may," adds Luther,
" a true history or a fable, I none the less believe that Christ in His
childhood and youth looked and acted like other children, yet with
out sin, in fashion like a man." 3
Holman Hunt sketched the two engravings which adorn it. It is not often that a
chance traveller gets the opportunity, as I was fortunate enough to do on several
occasions, of seeing the every-day home life and meals of the inhabitants.
1 As early as 1679 a monograph was written by Rohr, Pictor errans in Hist.
Sacrd; and in 1689, by Hilscher, De erroribus pictorum circa Nativ. Qhristi.
2 John vii. 3 — 5. Work in Galilee is there called work iv xpvitTw.1®
3Cf. St. Bonaventura, Vit. Ohristi, xii. " Fancy you see Him busied with His
parents in the most servile work of their little dwelling. Did He not help them

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 75
St. Matthew tells us, that in the settlement of the Holy Family at
Nazareth, was fulfilled that which was spoken by the prophets, " He
shall be called a Nazarene." It is well known that no such passage
occurs in any extant prophecy. If the name implied a contemptuous
dislike — as may be inferred from the proverbial question of Nathan-
ael, " Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ? " ' — then St.
Matthew may be summing up in that expression the various proph
ecies so little understood by his nation, which pointed to the
Messiah as a man of sorrows. And certainly' to this day " Nazarene "
has continued to be a term of contempt. The Talmudists always
speak of Jesus as " Ha-nozeri ; " Julian is said to have expressly
decreed that Christians should be called by the less honorable appel
lation of Galilseans ; and to this day the Christians of Palestine are
known by no other title than Nusara." But the explanation which
refers St. Matthew's allusion to _ those passages of prophecy in
which Christ is called "the Branch" (nitser, 1VJ) seems far more
probable. The village may have derived this name from no other
circumstance than its abundant foliage; but the Old Testament is
full of proofs that the Hebrews — who in philology accepted the
views of the Analogists — attached immense and mystical importance
to mere resemblances in the sound of words. To mention but one
single instance, the first chapter of the prophet Micah turns almost
entirely on such merely external similarities in what, for lack of a
better term, I can only call the physiological quantity of sounds. St.
Matthew, a Hebrew of the Hebrews, would without any hesitation
have seen a prophetic fitness in Christ's residence at this town of
Galilee, because its name recalled the title by which He was '
addressed in the prophecy of Isaiah.3
in setting out the frugal board, arranging the simple sleeping-rooms, nay, and in
other yet humbler offices 1 "
1 Perhaps in this question, and in the citation of St: Matthew, there may be a
play upon the possible derivation of the name from Naz&ra, " despicable."
2 In the singular, NusrSny. On the supposed edict of Julian, see Gibbon, ii.
312 (ed. Milman). If we ever passed a particularly ill-conditioned village in
Palestine, my Mohammedan dragoman always rejoiced if he could assure me that
the inhabitants were not Moslim, but NusSra — which he rarely lost an opportu
nity of doing. Cf . Acts xxviii. 22.
s Isa. xi. 1. Tsemach, the word used in Jer. xxiii. 5 ; Zech. iii. 8, &c, also means
" Branch." Hitzig, with less probability, supposed St. Matthew to allude to Isa.
xlix. 6 (Heb.). The explanation of the passage as = NaZipaioS, a Nazarife, is
philologically erroneous and historically false ; but something may be said for
the derivation from nbtser, " protecting," so that " he who calls Jesus Nazarene
shall, against his will, call Him 'my Saviour,' ' my Protector' " (Bp. Alexander,

76 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
" Shall the Christ come out of Galilee ?" asked the wondering
people. " Search and look ! " said the Rabbis to Nicodemus, " for
out of Gafilee ariseth no prophet " (John vii. 41, 52). It would not
have needed very deep searching or looking to find that these words
were ignorant or false ; for not to speak of Barak the deliverer, and
Elon the judge, and Anna the prophetess, three, if not four, of the
prophets — and those prophets of the highest eminence, Jonah, Eli
jah, Hosea, and Nahum — had been born, or had exercised much of
their ministry, in the precincts of Galilee.1 And in spite of the
supercilious contempt with which it was regarded, the little town of
Nazareth, situated as it was in a healthy and secluded valley, yet
close upon the confines of great nations, and in the centre of a mixed
population, was eminently fitted to be the home of our Saviour's
childhood, the scene of that quiet growth " in wisdom, and stature,
and favor with God and man." "
Ideas of the Gospels,^. 6). — The vague Sid rcSv itpo<p}jraovio of Matt. ii. 23 per
haps admits of more than one reference and explanation. For a fuller disquisi
tion on the principles of the explanation offered in the text I must refer to my
Chapters on Language (second edition), pp. 229 — 247, in which I have attempted
to illustrate this difficult and interesting subject.
1 Jonah was of Gath-hepher (2 Kings xiv. 25), a town of Zebulun (Josh. xix. 10,
13) ; Hosea is said to have been of Issachar, and was a Northern prophet ; Elkosh,
the birthplace of Nahum, was probably in Galilee (Jer. ad Nah. i. 1) ; Thisbe, the
supposed birthplace of Elijah, was believed to be in Naphthali (Tobit i. 2, but it
is exceedingly uncertain whether 3CT1D 'QK'fln may not mean " the stranger, from
the strangers ") — at any rate Elijah's main ministry wa3 in Galilee ; Elisha was
of Abel-meholah, in the Jordan valley. To get over such flagrant carelessness in
the taunting question of the Jews, some have proposed to give a narrower sig
nificance to the name Galilee, and make it mean only Upper Galilee, for the
limits of which see Jos. B. J. iii. 3, § 1. Among other great names connected
with Galilee, Keim mentions the philosopher Aristobulus (of Paneas), the Scribe
Nithai of Arbela, Alexander Jannasus, Judas the Gaulonite, and John of Giscala
(Gesch. Jes. i. 317). A legend mentioned by Jerome also connects the family of St.
Paul with Giscala (Jer. De .Vir. illustr. 5).
2 Luke ii. 52. Cf. Prov. iii. 4 ; Ps. cxi. 10 ; 1 Sam. ii. 26.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 77

CHAPTER VI.
JESUS IN THE TEMPLE.
" Omnes venit salvare, infantes, et parvulos, et pueros, et juvenes, et seniores ;
ideo per omnem venit aetatem." 51 — Iren. Adv. Haeres. iii. 18.
Even as there is one hemisphere of the lunar surface on which, in its
entirety, no human eye has ever gazed, while at the same time the
moon's fibrations enable us to conjecture of its general character and
appearance, so there is one large portion of our Lord's life respecting
which there is no full record ; yet such glimpses are, as it were,
accorded to us of its outer edge, that from these we are able to under
stand the nature of the whole.
Again, when the moon is in crescent, a few bright points are
visible through the telescope upon its unilluminated part ; those
bright points are mountain peaks, so lofty that they catch the sun
light. One such point of splendor and majesty is revealed to us in
the otherwise unknown region of Christ's youthful years, and it is
sufficient to furnish us with a real insight into that entire portion of
His life. In modern language we should call it an anecdote of the
Saviour's confirmation.
The age of twelve years was a critical age for a Jewish boy. It
was the age at which, according to Jewish legend, Moses had left the
house of Pharaoh's daughter ; and Samuel had heard the Voice which
summoned him to the prophetic office ; and Solomon had given the
» judgment which first revealed his possession of wisdom ; and Josiah
had first dreamed of his great reform. At this age a boy of what
ever rank was obliged, by the injunction of the Rabbis and the cus
tom of his nation, to learn a trade for his own support. At this age
he was so far emancipated from parental authority that his parents
could no longer sell him as a slave. At this age he became a ben
hat-tdrah, or " son of the Law." Up to this age he was called katdn,
or "little;" henceforth he was gadSl, or "grown up," and was
treated more as a man; henceforth, too, he began to wear the teph-
illin or " phylacteries," and was presented by his father in the syna
gogue on a Sabbath, which was called from this circumstance the
shabbath tephillin. Nay, more, according to one Rabbinical treatise,
the Sepher Gilgulim, up to this age a boy only possessed the

78 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
nephesh, or animal life; but henceforth he began to acquire the
raach, or spirit, which, if his life were virtuous, would develop, at
the age of twenty, into the nishema, or reasonable soul.?
This period,, too — the completion of the twelfth year * — formed a
decisive epoch in a Jewish boy's education. According to Juda Ben
Tema,3 at five he was to study the Scriptures (Mikra), at ten the
Mishna, at thirteen the Talmud ; at eighteen he was to marry, at
twenty to acquire riches, at thirty strength, at forty prudence, and so
on to the end. Nor must we forget, in considering this narrative,
that the Hebrew race, and, indeed, Orientals generally, develop with
a precocity unknown among ourselves, and that boys of this age (as
we learn from Josephus) could and did fight in battle, and that, to
the great detriment of the race, it is, to this day, regarded as a mar
riageable age among the Jews of Palestine and Asia Minor.
Now it was the custom of the parents of our Lord to visit Jerusa
lem every year at the feast of the Passover. Women were, indeed,
not mentioned in the law which required the annual presence of all
males at the three great yearly feasts of Passover, Pentecost, and
Tabernacles ; but Mary, in pious observance of the rule recommended
by Hillel,4 accompanied her husband every year, and on this occasion
they took with them the boy Jesus, who was beginning to be of an
age to assume the responsibilities of the Law. We can easily imag
ine how powerful must have been the influence upon His human
development of this break in the still secluded life ; of this glimpse
into the great outer world ; of this journey through a land of which
every hill and every village teemed with sacred memories ; of this
first visit to that Temple of His Father which was associated with so
many mighty events in the story of the kings His ancestors and the
prophets His forerunners.
1 Fol. 40, 1. Sepp is my authority for these particulars. These roughly cor
respond to Philo's division of life into the Xoyixrj e&S, axpao? TEXEiGOdiS,™ and
a Kfirj, 53 or its'pai av£t}d£ooS.H — This incident preserved for us by St. Luke is of
inestimable value as discountenancing that too-prevalent Apollinarian heresy
which denies to Christ the possession of a human soul .(you 5), and gives Him only
the Aoyoi in lieu of it. It is as much the object of the Gospels to reveal to us
that He was teXegoS (man), as that He was dXr/BmS (God). (See Hooker, Eccl. Pol.
i. 614, ed. Keble.) — It should be observed that the word used in Luke ii. 40 is
itXrjpovnEvov, implying a course of growth in wisdom, not iteitXripGOfiivov, imply
ing a finished and permanent result.
2 nsitXt/pGOXGDt ETOi t)St} SvcoSsxarov " (Jos. Antt. ii. 9, § 6 ; v. 10, 8 4), the
instances of Moses and Samuel. (Keim, i. 416.)
3 Pirke Abh&th, v. 21.
4 Caspari, p 64.-/' Pascha feminarum est arbitrarium " 56 (Kiddushin, f . 61 3)
(Sepp.) ¦'

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 79
Nazareth lies from Jerusalem at a distance of about eighty miles,
and, in spite of the intense and jealous hostility of the Samaritans, it
is probable that the vast caravan of Galilsean pilgrims on their way
to the feast would go by the most direct and the least dangerous
route, which lay through the old tribal territories of Manasseh and
Ephraim.1 Leaving the garland of hills which encircle the little
town in a manner compared by St. Jerome to the petals of an open
ing rose, they would descend the narrow flower-bordered limestone
path into the great plain of Jezreel. As the Passover falls at the
end of April and the beginning of May, the country would be wear
ing its brightest, greenest, loveliest aspect, and the edges of the vast
cornfields on either side of the road through the vast plain would be
woven, like the High Priest's robe, with the blue and purple and
scarlet of innumerable flowers." Over the streams of that ancient
river, the river Kishon — past Shunem, recalling memories of Elisha
as it lay nestling on the southern slopes of Little Hermon — past
royal Jezreel, with the sculptured sarcdphagi that alone bore witness
to its departed splendor — past the picturesque outline of bare and
dewless Gilboa — past sandy Taanach, with its memories of Sisera
and Barak — past Megiddo, where He might first have seen the hel
mets and broadswords and eagles of the Roman legionary — the road
would lie to En-Gannim, where, beside the fountains, and amid the
shady and lovely gardens which still mark the spot, they would proba
bly have halted for their first night's rest. Next day they would
begin to ascend the mountains of Manasseh, and crossing the " Drown
ing Meadow," as it is now called, and winding through the rich fig-
yards and olive-groves that fill the valleys round El Jib, they would
leave upon the right the hills which, in their glorious beauty, formed
the " crown of pride " of which Samaria boasted, but which, as the
prophet foretold, should be as a "fading flower." Their second
encampment would probably be near Jacob's well, in the beautiful
and fertile valley between Ebal and Gerizim, and not far from the
ancient Shechem. A third day's journey would take them past Shiloh
and Gibeah of Saul and Bethel to Beeroth ; and from the pleasant
springs by which they would there encamp a short and easy stage would

1 Two other routes were open to them : one by the sea-coast, past Carmel and
Csesarea to Joppa, and so across the plain to Jerusalem ; the other to Tiberias,
and then on the eastern bank of the Jordan to the fords of Bethabara. Both of
these routes were longer, less frequented, and more liable to the attacks of rov
ing bands.
2 It was at this time of year that the author visited in 1870 the scenes he is
here describing. In the year A. D. 8 the Passover began on April 8.

gO THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
bring them in sight of the towers of Jerusalem. The profane
plumage of the eagle-wings of Rome was already overshadowing the
Holy City ; but, towering above its walls, still glittered the great
Temple, with its gilded roofs and marble colonnades, and it was still
the Jerusalem of which royal David sang, and for which the exiles
by the waters of Babylon had yearned with such deep emotion, when
they took their harps from the willows to wail the remorseful dirge
that they would remember her until their right hands forgot their
cunning. Who shall fathom the unspeakable emotion with which
the boy Jesus gazed on that memorable and never-to-be-forgotten
scene 'i
The numbers who flocked to the Passover from every region of
the East might be counted by tens of thousands.' There were far
more than the city could by any possibility accommodate ; and then,
as now at Eastertime, vast numbers of the pilgrims reared for them
selves the little succdth — booths of mat, and wicker-work, and inter
woven leaves, which provided them with a sufficient shelter for all
their wants. The feast lasted for a week — a week, probably, of
deep happiness and strong religious emotion ; and then, with their
mules, and horses, and asses, and camels, the vast caravan would clear
away their temporary dwelling-places, and start on the homeward
journey. The road was enlivened by mirth and music. They often
beguiled the tedium of travel with the sound of drums and timbrels,
and paused to refresh themselves with dates, or melons, or cucum
bers, and water drawn in skins and waterpots from every springing
well and running stream. The veiled women and the stately old
men are generally mounted, while their sons or brothers, with long
sticks in their hands, lead along by a string their beasts of burden.
The boys and children sometimes walk and play by the side of then'
parents, and sometimes, when tired, get a lift on horse or mule. 1
can find no trace of the assertion or conjecture " that the women, and

1 Josephus (Bell. Jud. ii. 1, § 3) calls them "an innumerable multitude ;" and
in vi. 9, § 3, he mentions the very remarkable fact that Cestius, in order to give
Nero some notion of the power of the city, had asked the chief priests to count
the number of paschal lambs offered at the Passover, arid found that there were
no less than 256,500 ! which (allowing a general average of rather more than ten
to each lamb, whereas there were sometimes as many as twenty) would make
the number of worshippers no less thau 2,700,200, exclusive of all foreigners, and
all who were ceremonially unclean, &c. The assertion that Agrippa reckoned
12,000,000 worshippers by counting the kidneys of the lambs offered, is one of the
usual Rabbinic exaggerations.
2 Which first occurs, I believe, in Bede.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. gl
boys, and men formed three separate portions of the caravan, and
such is certainly not the custom in modern times. But, in any case,
among such a sea of human beings, how easy would it be to lose one
young boy ! ]
The apocryphal legend says that on the journey from Jerusalem
the boy Jesus left the caravan and returned to the Holy City." With
far greater truth and simplicity St. Luke informs us that — absorbed
in all probability in the rush of new and elevating emotions — He
" tarried behind in Jerusalem." A day elapsed before the parents 3
discovered their loss ; this they would not do until they arrived at
the place of evening rendezvous, and all day long they would be free
from all anxiety, supposing that the boy was with some other group
of friends or relatives in that long caravan. But when evening
came, and their diligent inquiries 4 led to no trace of Him, they would
learn the bitter fact that He was altogether missing from the band
of returning pilgrims. The next day, in alarm and anguish — per
haps, too, with some sense of self-reproach that they had not been
more faithful to their sacred charge — they retraced their steps to
Jerusalem. The country was in a wild and unsettled state. The
ethnarch Archelaus, after ten years of a cruel and disgraceful reign,
had recently been deposed by the Emperor, and banished to Vienne,
in Gaul. The Romans had annexed the. province over which he had
ruled, and the introduction of their system of taxation by Coponius,
the first procurator, had kindled the revolt which, under Judas of
Gamala and the Pharisee Sadoc, wrapped the whole country in a
storm of sword and flame.6 This disturbed state of the political hori
zon would not only render their journey more difficult when once
1 The incident constantly occurs to this day in the annual expeditions of the pil
grims to bathe in the fords of Jordan. At Easter I met hundreds of Mohamme
dan pilgrims streaming southwards to the " Tomb of Moses."
* Lange here particularizes too much, both in assuming that there was a sepa
rate company of boys ; and that " the Child — He knew not how — fell out of the
train of boys, and went on, led by the Spirit, meditating, longing, attracted, and
carried along by His own infinite thoughts until He stood in the Temple, in the
midst of the Rabbis."
3 The proper reading of Luke ii. 43 is almost certainly oi yovsii, " which has
fiir dogmatic reasons been dishonestly altered into 'lGodrjq> xai r) nrjr?;p avrov**
(see Lightfoot, Rev. of the New Test, p. 29). The place where they first halted
might very well be, as tradition says, El Bireh, the ancient Beeroth, about six miles
north of Jerusalem.
' Luke ii. 44, dvE^fjrovv.
11 The insurrection of Judas was A. D. 6 — i. «., only two years before this event.
It will be seen (Exc. I. infr., "The date of Christ's Birth") that A. U. C. 750
(B. 0. 4) seems to me the almost certain date of the Nativity.
11

82 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
they had left the shelter of the caravan, but would also intensify their
dread lest, among all the wild elements of warring nationalities
which at such a moment were assembled about the walls of Jerusa
lem, their Son should have met with harm. Truly on that day of
misery and dread must the sword have pierced through the virgin
mother's heart !
Neither on that day, nor during the night, nor throughout a con
siderable part of the third day, did they discover Him, till at last
they found Him in the place which, strangely enough, seems to have
been the last where they searched for Him — in the Temple, " sit
ting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them and asking them '
questions ; and all that heard Him were astonished at His under
standing and answers."
The last expression, no less than the entire context, and all that
we know of the character of Jesus and the nature of the circumstances,
shows that the Boy was there to inquire and learn — not, as the
Arabic Gospel of the Infancy ' represents it, to cross-examine the
doctors " each in turn" — not to expound the number of the spheres
and celestial bodies, and their natures and operations — still less to
" explain physics and metaphysics, hyperphysics and hypophysics " (!)
All these are but the Apollinarian fictions of those who preferred their
heretical and pseudo-reverential fancies of what was fitting, to the
simple truthfulness with which the Evangelist lets us see that Jesus,
like other children, grew up in gradual knowledge, consistently with
the natural course of human development. He was there, as St. Luke
shows us, in all humility and reverence to His elders, as an eager-
hearted and gifted learner, whose enthusiasm kindled their admira
tion, and whose bearing won their esteem and love." All tinge of
1 Ch. xlviii. — Iii. Not of this kind was the wisdom in which He grew. " La
sagesse dont il est question, ce n'est pas la sagesse selon le monde mais la sagesse
selon Dieu. Ce n'est ni cette philosophie superbe dont se vantait la Gre'ce, et
qu'elle inculquait si soigneusement a la generation naissante ; ni cette prudence
de la vie, par laquelle les enfants de ce siScle surpassent les enfants de la lumi&re ;
ni cette instruction des livres que les hommes d'e"tude ramassent avec tant de
travail ; ni m@me la connaissance speculative de Dieu et des saints mystfires de
sa Parole. II s'agit ici de cette sagesse si souvent loue"e dans les livres du roi
Salomon, dont la premiere leeon est, ' Crains Dieu, et garde ses commande-
•ments.' " s9 (Adolphe Monod, Enfance de Jesus, p. 9.)
2 " The Rabbis themselves said," observes Stier, " that the word of God out of
the mouths of children is to be received as from the mouth of the Sanhedrin, of
Moses, of the Blessed God Himself " (Barnmidbar Rdbba, 14). (Stier, Words of the
Lord Jesus, i. 20, E. Tr.) — Anything like forwardness in boys was peculiarly dis
tasteful to the Jews (Abhoth, v. 12, 15).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 83
arrogance and forwardness was utterly alien to His character, which,
from His sweet childhood upward, was meek and lowly of heart.
Among those present may have been — white with the snows of
well-nigh a hundred years — the great Hillel, one of the founders of
the Masdrah, whom the Jews almost reverence as a second Moses ;
and his son the Rabban Simeon, who thought so highly of silence ;
and his grandson, the refined and liberal Gamaliel ; and Shammai,
his great rival, a teacher who numbered a still vaster host of disci
ples ; and Hanan, or Annas, son of Seth, His future judge ; and
Boethus, the father-in-law of Herod ; and Babha Ben Butah, whose
eyes Herod had put out ; and Nechaniah Ben Hiskanah, so celebrated
for his victorious prayers ; and Johanan Ben Zacchai, who predicted
the destruction of the Temple ; and the wealthy Joseph of Arima-
thea ; and the timid but earnest Nicodemus ; and the youthful Jon
athan Ben Uzziel, who subsequently wrote the celebrated Chaldee
paraphrase, and was held by his contemporaries in boundless honor.1
But though none of these might conjecture Who was before them
— and though hardly one of them lived to believe on Him, and some
to oppose Him in years to come — which of them all would not have
been charmed, and astonished at a glorious and noble-hearted boy, in
all the early beauty of his life, who, though He had never learned in
the schools of the Rabbis, yet showed so marvellous a wisdom, and
so deep a knowledge in all things Divine ? "
Here then — perhaps in the famous Lishcath haggazzlth, or
" Hall of Squares " — perhaps in the Chanujoth, or " Halls of Pur
chase," or in one of the spacious chambers assigned to purposes of
1 Sepp, Leben Jesu, i. § 17 ; but I do not pledge myself to the exactitude of his
conjecture in this enumeration. For some further allusions to these Rabbis with
Talmudic references to the traditions about them, see Etheridge's Hebrew Litera
ture, p. 38. In a blasphemous Jewish book, the Tolddth Jeshu (which is not older
than the thirteenth century, though Voltaire supposed it to belong to the first),
Hillel and Shammai are represented as having reproved Jesus for having come into
the Temple with His head uncovered. Nothing whatever new or true respecting
Jesus is to be learnt from the Talmud (see Excursus II., infr. , " Christ and Chris
tians in the Talmud "), and least of all from this sickening and worthless piece of
blasphemy, which he who wills may read in Wagenseil's Tela Ignea Satanae,
1681. 1 Incidents somewhat similar in their external circumstances were by no means
unknown. They are narrated of R. Eliezer Ben Azaria, a descendant in the tenth
generation of Ezra ; and of R. Ashe, the first compiler of the Babylonian Talmud.
(Sepp, Leben Jesu, ubi supr.) Josephus ( Vita, 2), with the imperturbable egotism
and naive self-complacency which characterized him, narrates how, when he was
about fourteen years of age, the chief priests and Rabbis at Jerusalem fiequently
visited him to hear the understanding with which he answered the most difficult
questions on the hidden meaning of the Law.

84 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
teaching ] which adjoined the Court of the Gentiles — seated, but
doubtless at the feet of his teachers, on the many-colored mosaic
which formed the floor, Joseph and Mary found the Divine Boy.
Filled with that almost adoring spirit of reverence for the great
priests and religious teachers of their day which characterized at this
period the simple and pious Galilseans, they were awe-struck to find
Him, calm and happy, in so august a presence." They might, indeed,
have known that He was wiser than His teachers, and transcendently
more great ; but hitherto they had only known Him as the silent,
sweet, obedient child, and perhaps the incessant contact of daily life
had blunted the sense of His awful origin. Yet it is Mary, not
Joseph, who alone ventures to address Him in the language of tender
reproach. " My child, why dost Thou treat us thus ? see, thy father
and I were seeking Thee with aching hearts." 3 And then follows
His answer, so touching in its innocent simplicity, so unfathomable in
its depth of consciousness, so infinitely memorable as furnishing us
with the first recorded words of the Lord Jesus:
" Why is it that ye were seeking me ? Hid ye not know that I
must be about my Father's business ? " 4
This answer, so divinely natural, so sublimely noble, bears upon
itself the certain stamp of authenticity. The conflict of thoughts
which it implies; the half -vexed astonishment which it expresses
that they should so little understand Him ; the perfect dignity, and
yet the perfect humility which it combines, lie wholly beyond the
possibility of invention. It is in accordance, too, with all His min
istry — in accordance with that utterance to the tempter, "Man shall
not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of
the mouth of God," and with that quiet answer to the disciples by
the well of Samaria, " My meat is to do the will of Him that sent
me, and to finish His work." Mary had said unto Him, " Thy
father," but in His reply He recognizes, and henceforth He knows,
no father except His Father in heaven. In the " Did ye not know,"
He delicately recalls to them the fading memory of all that they did
. ' The Lishcath liaggazzith was a basilica of hewn square stones (built B. C.
110 by Simon Ben Shetach), in which both priests and Sanhedrin met, till they
were transferred to the chanujSth. It opened both on the Court of the Priests
and on that of the Gentiles. (Joma, 25 a ; Shabbah, 15 a, in Ginsburg, s. v. " San
hedrin," Kitto's Cyclop)
2 The word is a strong one, i^sitXdyrjdav (Luke ii. 48).
3 Luke ii. 48, 6Svvgo/j.evoi iZ,7]ToviJ.Ev.m \
4 iv roii rov KarpoS fiov, sc. itpdy/iadiv (Luke ii. 49). It might mean "in
my father's house ; " but the other rendering is wider and better. Cf. 1 Tim iv
15; Gen. xii. 51, LXX.

THE LIFE OF GHRIST. 85
know ; and in that " /must," He lays down the sacred law of self-
sacrifice by which He was to walk, even unto the death upon the
cross. " And they understood not the saying which He spake unto
them." They — even they — even the old man who had protected His
infancy, and the mother who knew the awful secret of His birth —
understood not, that is, not in their deeper sense, the significance of
those quiet words. Strange and mournful commentary on the first
recorded utterance of the youthful Saviour, spoken to those who
were nearest and dearest to Him on earth ! Strange, but mourn
fully prophetic of all His life : — "He was in the world, and the
world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not. He came
unto His own, and His own received Him not." '
And yet, though the consciousness of His Divine parentage was
thus clearly present in His mind — though one ray from the glory
of His hidden majesty had thus unmistakably flashed forth — in all
dutiful simplicity and holy obedience " He went down with them,
and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them."
1 John i. 10, 11. It should be rather "unto His own possessions (sis rd i'Sia),
and His own people (oi 'iSioi) received Him not."

86 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER VII.
THE HOME AT NAZAEETH.
Av^dvGov xard rd xoivov ditavrmv dvBpaoitGovf — Just. Mart. Dial. c.
Tryph. 88.
Such, then, is the " solitary floweret out "of the wonderful enclosed
garden of the thirty years, plucked precisely there where the swollen
bud, at a distinctive crisis, bursts into flower." '
But if of the first twelve years of His human life we have only
this single anecdote, of the next eighteen years of His life we possess
no record whatever save such as is implied in a single word.
That word occurs in Mark vi. 3 : " Is not this the carpenter ? " "
We may be indeed thankful that the word remains, for it is full
of meaning, and has exercised a very noble and blessed influence
over the fortunes of mankind. It has tended to console and sanctify
the estate of poverty ; to ennoble the duty of labor ; to elevate the
entire conception of manhood, as of a condition which in itself alone,
and apart from every adventitious circumstance, has its own gran
deur and dignity in the sight of God.
1. It shows, for instance, that not only during the three years of
His ministry, but throughout the whole of His life, our Lord was
1 Stier, i. 18.
2 It is, no doubt, on dogmatical grounds that this was altered into " the son of
the carpenter" in the later MSS., though not in a single uncial. Some were
offended that the Lord of All should have worked in the shop of a poor artisan ;
but how alien to the true spirit of Christianity is this feeling of offence ! Origen,
indeed, says (c. Gels. vi. 36) that nowhere in the Gospels is Jesus himself called a
carpenter ; but this is probably a mere slip of memory, or may only prove how
early the Christians grew ashamed of their Divine Master's condescension, and
how greatly they needed the lessons which it involves . That even " the carpen
ter's son " became a term of reproach among the Gentiles, is clear from the story
of Libanius's question to a Christian during Julian's expedition into Persia,
" What is the Carpenter's Son doing now 1 " The Christian answered, " He is
making a coffin ; " and soon came the news of Julian's death. The omission of
Joseph's name in Mark vi. 3 has been universally accepted as an indication that
he was dead ; otherwise we might suppose that something contemptuous was
intended by only mentioning the mother's name (see Ewald, Gram. Arabica, ii. 4,
note). For this reference I am indebted to Mr. C. J. Monro.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 87
poor. In the cities the carpenters would be Greeks, and skilled
workmen ; the carpenter of a provincial village — and, if tradition
be true, Joseph was " not very skilful " — can only have held a very
humble position and secured a very moderate competence.1 In all
ages there has been an exaggerated desire for wealth ; an exaggerated
admiration for those who possess it ; an exaggerated belief of its
influence in producing or increasing the happiness of life; and
from these errors a flood of cares and jealousies and meannesses have
devastated the life of man. And therefore Jesus chose voluntarily
" the low estate of the poor " — not, indeed, an absorbing, degrading,
grinding poverty, which is always rare, and almost always remedi
able, but that commonest lot of honest poverty, which, though it
necessitates self-denial, can provide with ease for all the necessaries
of a simple life. The Idumsean dynasty that had usurped the throne
of David might indulge in the gilded vices of a corrupt Hellenism,
and display the gorgeous gluttonies of a decaying civilization ; but He
who came to be the Friend and the Saviour, no less than the King
of All, sanctioned the purer, better, simpler traditions and customs
of His nation," and chose the condition in which the vast majority of
mankind have ever, and must ever live.
, 2. Again, there has ever been, in the unenlightened mind, a love
of idleness ; a tendency to regard it as a stamp of aristocracy ; a
desire to delegate labor to the lower and weaker, and to brand it
with the stigma of inferiority and contempt.3 But our Lord wished
to show that labor is a pure and a noble thing ; it is the salt of life ;
1 Arab. Gosp. Inf. xxxviii. Unfortunately, Pagan writers do not add one single
fact to our knowledge of the life of Jesus (Tac. Ann. xv. 44 ; Plin. Epp. x. 97 ;
Suet. Claud. 25 ; Lucian, De Mort. Peregr. 11 ; Lamprid. Alex. Sev. 29, 43). A few
passages in the Vera Hist, of the Pseudo-Lucian are probably meant to ridicule
Gospel narratives, and a few passages in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana by
Philostratus, and the Life of Pythagoras by Jamblichus — the " cloudy romances
of Pagan sophists " — are perhaps intended by way of parallel. Jewish writers are
just as barren. Josephus and Justus of Tiberias passed over the subject with
obvious and unworthy reticence. The Talmudists simply preserved or invented
a few turbid and worthless calumnies.
5 Philo. in Fiac. 977 f.
8 To the Greeks and Romans all mechanical trade was fidvavdoi, i. e., mean,
vulgar, contemptible, and was therefore left to slaves. The Jews, with a truer
and nobler wisdom, enacted that every boy should learn a trade, and said with R.
Juda b. Hai, " the wise," that " labor honors the laborer." Saul was a tentmaker.
Up to the age of forty, R. Johanan, son of Zakkai, afterwards president of the
Sanhedrin, was, like Mahomet, a merchant ; the Rabbis Juda and Menahem were
bakers ; R. Eliezer, supreme president of the schools of Alexandria, was a smith ;
R. Ismael, a needle-maker ; R. Joza Ben Chalaphta, a tanner. (Sepp, § 19 ; Gins-
burg, in Kitto's Cyclop., s. v. "Education"). The rabbis even assumed and

88 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
it is the girdle of manliness ; it saves the body from effeminate lan
guor, and the soul from polluting thoughts. And therefore Christ
labored, working with His own hands, and fashioned ploughs and
yokes for those who needed them. The very scoff of Celsus against
the possibility that He should have been a carpenter who came to
save the world,' shows how vastly the world has gained from this
very circumstance — how gracious and how fitting was the example
of such humility in One whose work it was to regenerate society, and
to make all things new.
3. Once more, from this long silence, from this deep obscurity,
from this monotonous routine of an unrecorded and uneventful life,
we were meant to learn that our real existence in the sight of God
consists in the inner and not in the outer life. The world hardly
attaches any significance to any life except those of its heroes and
benefactors, its mighty intellects, or its splendid conquerors. But
these are, and must ever be, the few. One raindrop of myriads fall
ing on moor or desert, or mountain — one snowflake out of myriads
melting into the immeasurable sea — is, and must be, for most men
the symbol of their ordinary lives. They die, and barely have they
died, when they are forgotten ; a few years pass, and the creeping
lichens eat away the letters of their names upon the churchyard
stone ; but even if those crumbling letters were still decipherable,
they would recall no memory to those who stand upon their graves.
Even common and ordinary men are very apt to think themselves of
much importance ; but, on the contrary, not even the greatest man
is in any degree necessary, and after a very short space of time —
" His place, in all the pomp that fills
The circuit of the summer hills,
Is that his grave is green."
4. A relative insignificance, then, is, and must be, the destined lot
of the immense majority, and many a man might hence be led to
rejoiced in the titles of R. Johanan, the shoemaker ; R. Simon, the weaver, &c.
Labor and learning were, in the eyes of the Rabbis, good antidotes against sinful
thoughts (Pirke AbhSth, fol. 2, 2). — Even the Rabbis, however, were not far
enough advanced to honor labor without learning, and, as we shall see hereafter,
they spoke contemptuously of uneducated artisans and common tillers of the soil
(vid. infra, p. 92).
1 Justin Mart. Dial c. Tryph. 88, TEKroviud Spy a eipydZsro iv dvBpooitoiS gov,
dporpa xai Zvya, Std rovroov rd rrjs Sixaiodvvr^; dvfifJoXa SiSddxaav xai
ivepyrf fiiov.el (There is no necessity, with Neander, to translate Zvya, " scales.")
The supposed allusions to the trade of a carpenter in Matt. vi. 27 ; Luke xxiii. 31,
&c, are obviously too vague to have any bearing on this question.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 89
think, that since he fills so small a space — since, for the vast masses
of mankind, he is of as little importance as the ephemerid which
buzzes out its little hour in the summer noon — there is nothing bet
ter than to eat, and drink, and die. But Christ came to convince us
that a relative insignificance may be an absolute importance.1 He
came to teach that continual excitement, prominent action, distin
guished services, brilliant success, are no essential elements of true
and noble life, and that myriads of the beloved of God are to be
found among the insignificant and the obscure. " Si vis divinus
esse, late ut Heus," e" is the encouraging, consoling, ennobling lesson
of those voiceless years. The calmest and most unknown lot is often
the happiest, and we may safely infer that these years in the home
and trade of the carpenter of Nazareth were happy years in our
Saviour's life. Often, even in His later days, it is clear that His
words are the words of one who rejoiced in spirit ; they are words
which seem to flow from the full river of an abounding happiness.
But what must that happiness have been in those earlier days, before
the storms of righteous anger had agitated His unruffled soul, or His
heart burned hot with terrible mdignation against the sins and hypoc
risies of men ? " Heaven," as even a Confucius could tell us, " means
principle /" and if at all times innocence be the only happiness, how
great must have been the happiness of a sinless childhood ! " Youth,"
says the poet-preacher, " danceth like a bubble, nimble and gay, and
shineth like a dove's neck, or the image of a rainbow which hath no
substance, and whose very image and colors are fantastical." And
if this description be true of even a careless youth, with what trans-
cendently deeper force must it apply to the innocent, the sinless, the
perfect youth of Christ? In the case of many myriads, and
assuredly not least in the case of the saints of God, a sorrowful and
stormy manhood has often been preceded by a calm and rosy dawn.
5. And while they were occupied manually, we have positive evi
dence that these years were not neglected intellectually. No import
ance can be attached to the clumsy stories of the Apocryphal Gos
pels, but it is possible that some religious and simple instruction may
have been given to the fittle Nazarenes by the sopherim, or other
attendants of the synagogue ; " and here our Lord, who was made
1 " Tu homo, tantum nomen, si intelligas te " 63 (Tert. Apol. adv. Gent, xlviii.)
" We are greater than we know."— tVordsworth.
2 The Talmud certainly proves their later existence, and that the sopherim and
chazanim of the synagogues acted as mikredardike — i. e., mikrodidaktici, or
private teachers of the young. But the chazzan of our Lord's day was in a much
12

90 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
like unto us in all things, may have learnt, as other children learnt,
the elements of human learning. But it is, perhaps, more probable
that Jesus received His early teaching at home, and in accordance
with the injunctions of the Law (Deut. xi. 19), from His father. He
would, at any rate, have often heard in the daily prayers of the syna
gogue all which the elders of the place could teach respecting the
Law and the Prophets. That He had not been to Jerusalem, for
purposes of instruction, and had not frequented any of the schools
of the Rabbis, is certain from the indignant questions of jealous
enemies, " From whence hath this man these things ? " " How
knoweth this man letters, having never learned ? " ' There breathes
throughout these questions the Rabbinic spirit of insolent contempt
for the am ha-aretz (pan DV) or illiterate countryman. The
stereotyped intelligence of the nation, accustomed, if I may use the
expression, to that mummified form of a dead religion, which had
been embalmed by the Oral Law, was incapable of appreciating the
divine originality of a wisdom learnt from God alone. They could
not get beyond the sententious error of the son of Sirach, that " the
wisdom of the learned man cometh by opportunity of leisure." °
Had Jesus received the slightest tincture of their technical training
he would have been less, not more, effectually armed for putting to
shame the supercilious exclusiveness of their narrow erudition.
6. And this testimony of His enemies furnishes us with a con
vincing and fortunate proof that His teaching was not, as some would
insinuate, a mere eclectic system borrowed from the various sects and
teachers of His times. It is certain that He was never enrolled
among the scholars of those Scribes * who made it their main busi
ness to teach the traditions of the fathers. Although schools in great
humbler position than was the case later. The regular foundation of schools for
infants is said to have been due to Jesus the son of Gamaliel I. See the whole
question examined by Winer, Realworterb., s. v. Unterricht ; Jost, Gesch. d.Volkes
Israel, iii. 163; and Keim, Jesu, i. 428. On the familiarity of Jewish children
with the Law, see Jos. Antt. iv. 8, § 12 ; Gfrbrer, Jahrh d. Heils, i. 118.
1 Mark vi. 2 ; John vi. 42 ; vii. 15. The am ha-aretz, according to R. Eliezer, is one
who does not say the Shema (Hear, 0 Israel) morning and evening. According to
R. Joshua, one who wore no tephillin (phylacteries) ; according to Ben Assai, one
who did not wear tsitsith (tassels) ; according to R. Nathan, one who had no
mezuzah above his door ; according to R. Nathan Ben Joseph, one who did not
train his sons in the Law ; but according to R. Hona the true Halachah (" rule ")
was with those who, even if they had read the Scriptures and the Mishna, had not
attended the school of any Rabbi. (Bab. Berachdth, fol. 47, 6 ; v. infr., p. 324 ;
Gfrorer, Jahrhund. d. Heils, i. 188.)
2 Ecclus. xxxviii. 24. For the continuation of the passage, v. infra, p. 92.
3 Jos. Antt. xv. 10, § 5. Sometimes an educated slave acted as homo-tutor.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 91
towns had been founded eighty years before, by Simon Ben Shataeh,
yet there could have been no Beth Midrash or Beth Rabban, no
"vineyard" or "array" at despised and simple Nazareth.1 And
from whom could Jesus have borrowed ? — From Oriental Gymnos-
ophists or Greek Philosophers ? No one, in these days, ventures to
advance so wild a proposition." — From the Pharisees f The very
foundations of their system, the very idea of their religion, was irrec
oncilably alien from all that He revealed. — From the Sadducees f
Their epicurean insouciance, their " expediency " politics, their shal
low rationalism, their polished sloth, were even more repugnant to
true Christianity, than they were to sincere Judaism. — From the
Essenes ? They were an exclusive, ascetic, and isolated commu
nity, with whose discouragement of marriage, and withdrawal from
action, the Gospels have no sympathy, and to whom our Lord
never alluded, unless it be in those passages where He reprobates
those who abstain from anointing themselves when they fast,3
and who hide their candle under a bushel. — From Philo, and the
Alexandrian Jews? Philo was indeed a good man, and a great
thinker, and a contemporary of Christ ; 4 but (even if his name had
ever been heard — which is exceedingly doubtful — in so remote a
region as Galilee) it would be impossible, among the world's philoso
phies, to choose any system less like the doctrines which Jesus taught,
than the mystic theosophy and allegorizing extravagance of that " sea
of abstractions " which lies congealed in his writings. — From Hillel
and Shammai ? We know but little of them ; but although, in one
or two passages of the Gospels, there may be a conceivable allusion
to the disputes which agitated their schools, or to one or two of the
best and truest maxims which originated in them, such allusions, on
the one hand, involve no more than belongs to the common stock of

1 q-|3, " vineyard ; " K"nD, " array," and other similar names, were given by the
Jews to their schools (Dr. Ginsburg, in Kitto's Cyclop, i. 728).
2 For numerous monographs on all these theories, see Hase, Leben Jesu, p. 73.
3 Jos. B. J. ii. 8, § 3.
* Philo was probably born B. C. 20, and lived till about A. D. 50. As we know
that he once visited Jerusalem, it is just possible (no more) that he may have seen
Jesus. The tendency of his spiritualism was " to exalt knowledge in place of
action • its home was in the cells of the recluse, and not in the field or the market ;
its truest disciples were visionary Therapeutse, and not Apostles charged with a
Gospel to the world." Alexandrianism " was the ideal of heathen religion and
the negation of Christianity. ... It suppressed the instincts of civil and domes
tic society which Christianity ennobled ; it perpetuated the barriers which Chris
tianity removed ; -it abandoned the conflict which Christianity carries out to vic
tory." (Westcott, Introd., p. 77.)

92 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
truth taught by the Spirit of God to men in every age ; and, on the
other hand, the system which Shammai and Hillel taught was that
oral tradition, that dull dead Levitical ritualism, at once arrogant and
impotent, at once frivolous and unoriginal, which Jesus both denounced
and overthrew.1 The schools in which Jesus learnt were not the
schools of the Scribes, but the school of holy obedience, of sweet con
tentment, of unalloyed simplicity, of stainless purity, of cheerful toil.
The lore in which He studied was not the lore of Rabbinism, in
which to find one just or noble thought we must wade through masses
of puerile fancy and cabbalistic folly, but the Books of God without
Him, in Scripture, in Nature, and in Life ; and the Book of God
within Him, written on the fleshly tables of the heart.
The education of a Jewish boy of the humbler classes was almost
solely scriptural and moral," and his parents were, as a rule, his sole
teachers. We can hardly doubt that the child Jesus was taught by
Joseph and Mary to read the Shema (Deut. vi. 4), and the Hallel
(Ps. cxiv. — cxviii.), and the simpler parts of those holy books, on
whose pages His divine wisdom was hereafter to pour such floods of
light. But He had evidently received a further culture than this.
(i.) The art of writing is by no means commonly known, even in
these days, in the East ; but more than one allusion to the form of
the Hebrew letters,3 no less than the stooping to write with His
1 We shall see hereafter that in all questions such as that respecting divorce,
the decisions of Jesus were wholly different from those either of Hillel or of
Shammai. Can it be regarded as certain that Hillel occupied among his contem
poraries anything like the space which he occupies in tradition? Unless he be
the same as Pollio (Antt. xv. 1, § 1 ; 10, § 4) — which, to say the least, is very
doubtful, for Pollio seems to be Abtalion who preceded Hillel — Josephus does
not even mention him, though there could be no possible reason, whether of timid
ity or of uncertainty, to pass over his name, as he passes over that of Jesus. I
shall speak of the supposed relation of Jesus to Hillel in Excursus III., " Jesus
and Hillel," and may refer to Ewald, Gesch. Christ. 28 — 39.
2 Exod. xii. 26 ; Deut. passim ; Acts xxii. 3 ; 2 Tim. iii. 15. In Ecclus. xxxviii.
24 seqq., there is a striking contrast between the limited studies and opportuni
ties of the poor and the range and leisure of the rich. " The wisdom of a learned
man cometh by opportunity of leisure. . . . How can he get wisdom that
holdeth the plough, . . that driveth oxen, . . . and whose talk is of bullocks ?
. . So every carpenter and workmaster that laboreth night and day. . . . All
these trust to their hands. . . . They shall not be sought for in public counsel,
nor set high in the congregation, . . . and they shall not be found where para
bles are spoken ; . . . but . . . their desire is in the work of their craft."
3 Matt. v. 18. Eusebius (H. E. i. 13) gives «the spurious letter which Christ was
asserted to have written (Cedrenus, Hist., p. 145, adds iSiaii x^pdi6i) to Abgarus,
King of Edessa. Cf. Arab. Gosp. Inf. xlviii. ; Ps. Matth. xxxi.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 93
finger on the ground,1 show that our Lord could write, (ii.) That
His knowledge of the sacred writings was deep and extensive — that,
in fact, He must almost have known them by heart — is clear, not
only from His direct quotations, but also from the numerous allusions
which He made to the Law and to the Hagiographa, as well as to
Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Joel, Hosea, Micah, Zechariah, Malachi,
and, above all, to the Book of Psalms." It is probable, though not
certain, that He was acquainted with the uncanonical Jewish books."
This profound and ready knowledge of the Scriptures gave more
point' to the half-indignant question, so often repeated, " Have ye not
read ? " (iii.) The language which our Lord commonly spoke was
Aramaic ; and at that period Hebrew was completely a dead language,
known only to the more educated, and only to be acquired by labor ;
yet it is clear that Jesus was acquainted with it, for some of His
scriptural quotations 4 directly refer to the Hebrew original. Greek
too He must have known, for it was currently spoken in towns so
near His home as Sepphoris, Csesarea, and Tiberias.5 Meleager, the
poet of the Greek anthology, in his epitaph on himself, assumes that
his Greek will be intelligible to Syrians and Phoenicians : he also
speaks of his native Gadara, which was at no great distance from
Nazareth, as though it were a sort of Syrian Athens. Ever since the
days of Alexander the Great, alike in the contact of the Jews with
Ptolemies, and with Seleucids, Hellenic influences had been at work
in Palestine. Greek was, indeed, the common medium of intercourse,
'John viii. 6 (in MS. U), tgo SaxrvXa Eypacpsv ixddrov avraav rdi
dfiapTiaS.i!i (See Hofmann, p. 309; Fabr. God. ap. N. T. i. 315; Wagenseil, ad
Sot. p. 33.) The common use of the mezuzSth (Deut. vi. 9) and tephillin hardly
show that the art of writing was common.
2 These all occur in St. Matthew's Gospel.
3 Cf. Matt. xi. 28 seq. with Ecclus. Ii. 26, &c, and Luke xiv. 28 with 2 Mace. ii.
29, 30 (Keim, i . 455). Every respectable family possessed at least a portion of the
sacred books. Prof. Plumptre (Christ and Christendom, p. 96) has observed that
James " the Lord's brother" certainly makes allusions to the Apocrypha (cf.
James i. 6, 8, 25 withEcclus. vii. 10; i. 28 ; xiv. 23.)
4 Mark xii. 29, 30 ; Luke xxii. 37 ; Matt, xxvii. 46.
5 The coinage of the Herods has Greek inscriptions (De Saulcy, Hist. d'Herode,
p. 385). The study of Greek was encouraged by some Rabbis ; they said that the
tallith of Sbem and the pallium of Japhet ought to be united (Midrash Rabba,
Gen. xxxiv.). As a rule, however, they did not value the acquisition of languages
(Jos. Antt. xx. 11, § 2) ; and the learning of Greek was absolutely forbidden dur
ing the Roman war (Sota, ix. 14). Gamaliel alone, of the Rabbis, permitted his
scholars to study Greek literature (chochmath Javanith) ; and Rabbi Ismael said
that Greek wisdom should only be taught at the hour which was neither day nor
night, since the Law was to be studied day and night (Menachdth, 19 b). But see
Excursus IV., " Greek Learning."

94 THE LIVE OF CHRIST.
and without it Jesus could have had no conversation with strangers
— with the centurion, for instance, whose servant He healed, or with
Pilate, or with the Greeks who desired an interview with Him in the
last week of His life.1 Some too of His scriptural quotations, if we
can venture to assume a reproduction of the ipsissima verba' are
taken directly from the Greek version of the Septuagint, even where
it differs from the Hebrew original.3 Whether He was acquainted
with Latin is much more doubtful, though not impossible. The
Romans in Judaea must by this time have been very numerous, and
Latin was inscribed upon the coins in ordinary use.4 But to what
ever extent He may have known these languages, it is clear that they
exercised little or no influence on His human development, nor is
there in all His teaching a single indisputable allusion to the litera
ture, philosophy, or history of Greece or Rome.6 And that Jesus
habitually thought in that Syriac which was His native tongue may
be conjectured, without improbability, from some curious plays on
words which are lost in the Greek of the Gospels, but which would
have given greater point and beauty to some of His utterances^ as
spoken in their original tongue."
7. But whatever the. boy Jesus may have learned as child or boy
in the house of His mother, or in the school of the synagogue, we
1 Matt. viii. 6 — 9 ; xxvii. 11 ; John xii. 21.
2 Of course we cannot assume this in all cases. x°^-87tov rrjv dxpifiEiav
avrrjv tgov XsxBsvtgov Sianvij/tovEvdai 66 (Thuc. i. 22), and although the Holy
Evangelists have been guided from above to reveal all that is essential to our sal
vation in the life of Christ, yet their variations show that they were not endowed
with a verbal exactitude, which would have been at once supernatural and need
less. 3 Matt. iv. 7 ; xiii. 14, 15.
4 Matt. xxii. 19. Wernsdorf wrote a treatise De Christo Latine loquente. The
Latin words, /j.6Siov, noSpavr-qv, XsyEGov, &c, occur in our Lord's teaching.
K It is surely very far-fetched to find, as some have done, a possible allusion to the
death of Socrates in Mark xvi. 18. On the other hand, there is a (perhaps acci
dental) resemblance between the aypacpov Soyfia of our Lord preserved by St.
Paul in Acts xx. 35, and the Epicurean maxim r)Siov to ev -Koieiv rov ev itdd-
XEiv.m (Cf. Athen. Deipnos. viii. 5 ; Arist. Eth. Nic. iv. 1.) J. F. Mayer wrote a
pamphlet, Utrum Christus- leg erit Platonem vel Terentium f 68 Hamb. 1701.
6 See Winer, Realworterb. ii. 501. s. v. Sprache ; Glass, Philologia Sacra, p. 918,
seq., " We have piped unto you; and ye have not danced (IW7P1, rakedtoon) ; we
have mourned unto you, and ye have not wept (ppi"]B1S, arMdtoon) ; " other sup
posed instances are adduced in Heinsius's Aristarchus. The words, yoXyoBd,
raXiBd, xvjui, dfifia, xrjcpai, &c, are all Aramaic (or, as it is called, Syro-Chal-
dee) ; as is the cry upon the cross, " Eloi, Eloi, lama sabaahthani." The particu
lar dialect of Galilee was marked by a change of gutturals, and a general itXa-
TEiad/xd-i. (Lightfoot and SchQttgen, Hor. Hebr. in Matt. xxvi. 73.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 95
know that His best teaching was derived from immediate insight into
His Father's will. In the depths of His inmost consciousness, did
that voice of God, which spake to the father of our race as he walked
in the cool evening under the palms of Paradise, commune — more
plainly, by far — with Him. He heard it in every sound of nature,
in every occupation of life, in every interspace of solitary thought.
His human life was " an ephod on which was inscribed the one word
God." Written on His inmost spirit, written on His most trivial
experiences, written in sunbeams, written in the light of stars, He
read everywhere His Father's name. The calm, untroubled seclusion
of the happy valley, with its green fields and glorious scenery, was
eminently conducive to a life of spiritual communion ; and we know
how from its every incident — the games of its innocent children,' the
buying and selling in its little market-place, the springing of its per
ennial fountain, the glory of its mountain lilies in their transitory
loveliness, the hoarse cry in their wind-rocked nest of the raven's
callow brood — he drew food for moral illustration and spiritual
thought. Nor must we lose sight of the fact that it was in these silent, un
recorded years that a great part of His work was done. He was not
only " girding His sword upon His thigh," but also wielding it in
that warfare which has no discharge." That noiseless battle, in which
no clash of weapons sounds, but in which the combatants against us
are none the less terrible because they are not seen, went on through
all the years of His redeeming obedience. In these years He " began
to do" long before He "began to teach." 3 They were the years of
sinless childhood, a sinless boyhood, a sinless youth, a sinless man
hood, spent in that humility, toil, obscurity, submission, contentment,
prayer, to make them an eternal example to all our race. We can
not imitate Him in the occupations of His ministry, nor can we even
remotely reproduce in our own experience the external circumstances
of His life during those three crowning years. But the vast major
ity of us are placed, by God's own appointment, amid those quiet
duties of a commonplace and uneventful routine which are most
closely analogous to the thirty years of His retirement ; it was during
these years that His life is for us the main example of how we ought
to live. " Take notice here," says the saintly Bonaventura, " that
His doing nothing wonderful was in itself a kind of wonder. For
1 Matt. xi. 16.
2 Ps. xiv. 3 ; Eccles. viii. 8.
3 Acts i. 1. See further on this subject the note at the end of Chap. IX, p. 126.

96 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
His whole life is a mystery ; and as there was power in His actions,
so was there power in His silence, in His inactivity, and in His
retirement. This sovereign Master, who was to teach all virtues,
and to point out the way of fife, began from His youth up, by sanc
tifying in his own person the practice of the virtuous life He came
to teach, but in a wondrous, unfathomable, and, till then, unheard-of
manner." His mere presence in that home of His childhood must have made
it a happy one. The hour of strife, the hour of the sword, the hour
when many in Israel should rise or fall because of Him, the hour
when the thoughts of many hearts should be revealed, the hour when
the kingdom of heaveft should suffer violence, and the violent take it
by force, was not yet come. In any family circle the gentle influ
ence of one loving soul is sufficient to breathe around it an unspeak
able calm ; it has a soothing power like the shining of the sunlight,
or the voice of doves heard at evening ; —
" It droppeth, like the gentle dew from heaven,
Upon the place beneath."
Nothing vulgar, nothing tyrannous, nothing restless can permanently
resist its beneficent sorcery ; no jangling discord can long break in
upon its harmonizing spell. But the home of Jesus was no ordinary
home. With Joseph to guide and support, with Mary to hallow and
sweeten it, with the youthful Jesus to illuminate it with the very
¦light of heaven, we may well believe that it was a home of trustful
piety, of angelic purity, of almost perfect peace ; a home for the sake
of which all the earth would be dearer and more awful to the watchers
and holy ones, and where, if the fancy be permitted us, they would
love to stay their waving wings. The legends of early Christianity
tell us that night and day, where Jesus moved and Jesus slept, the
cloud of light shone round about Him. And so it was; but that
light was no visible Sheehinah ; it was the beauty of holiness ; it was
the peace of God.
8. In the eleventh chapter of the Apocryphal History of Joseph
the Carpenter, it is stated that Joseph had four elder song and several
daughters by a previous marriage, and that the elder sons, Justus and
Simon, and the daughters, Esther and Thamar, in due time married
and went to their houses. " But Judas and James the Less, and the
Virgin my mother," continues the speaker, who is supposed to be
Jesus Himself, " remained in the house of Joseph. I also continued
along with them, not otherwise than if I had been one of his sons.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 97
I passed all my time without fault. I called Mary my mother, and
Joseph father, and in all they said I was obedient to them, nor did I
ever resist them, but submitted to them . . . nor did I provoke
their anger any day, nor return any harsh word or answer to them ;
on the contrary, I cherished them with immense love, as the apple
of my eye."
This passage, which I quote for the sake of the picture which it
offers of the unity which prevailed in the home at Nazareth, reminds
us of the perplexed question, Had our Lord any actual uterine
brothers and sisters ? and if not, who were those who in the Gospels
are so often called " the brethren of the Lord ? " Whole volumes have
been written on this controversy, and I shall not largely enter on it
here, both because I do not wish these pages to be controversial, and
because I have treated it elsewhere.1 The evidence is so evenly
. balanced, the difficulties of each opinion are so clear, that to insist
very dogmatically on any positive solution of the problem would be
uncandid and contentious. Some, in accordance certainly with the
prima facie evidence of the Gospels, have accepted the natural sup
position that, after the miraculous conception of our Lord, Joseph
and Mary lived together in the married state, and that James, and
Joses, and Judas, and Simon, with daughters, whose names are not
recorded, were subsequently born to them. According to this view,
Jesus would be the eldest, and on the death of Joseph, which, if we
may follow tradition, took place when He was nineteen, would assume
the natural headship and support of the orphaned family." But
1 In Smith's Diet, of the Bible, s. v. "Brother." Certainly the Hieronymian and
Epiphanian theories (see next note) are an afterthought, caused by a growing ten
dency to magnify the dEiitapBsvia. This notion was partly due to the develop
ment of ascetic opinions, partly to a fantastic allegorical interpretation of Ezek.
xliv. 2.
2 So much, and so much that is most easily accessible, has been written on this
point — a point which is, after all, incapable of positive solution — that it will be
needless to enter elaborately upon it here, especially as Dr. Lightfoot, in an appen
dix to his edition of the Epistle to the Galatians, has treated it with his usual
exhaustive learning and accuracy. Dismissing all minor and arbitrary combina
tions, there are three main views : (1) The Helvidian — that the brethren of the
Lord were the actual children of Joseph and Mary ; (2) the Hieronymian — that
they were his first cousins, being sons of Mary and Alphaeus ; (3) the Epipha,nian
— that they were the sons of Joseph by a former marriage. Of these three theo
ries, the second — that of St. Jerome — is decidedly the most popular, and the
one which has least to be said for it. It has not a particle of tradition before the
time of St. Jerome in its favor, since the Papias, who is quoted as having held it,
is, as Dr. Lightfoot shows, a writer of the eleventh century. Even St. Jerome,
after his residence in Palestine, seems to have abandoned it ; and it is perhaps
13

98 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
according to another view, of which St. Jerome may be called the
inventor, these brethren of our Lord were in reality His cousins.
Mary, it is believed, had a sister or half-sister of the same name,1 who
was married to Alphseus or Clopas, and these were their children. I have
in the note reviewed some of the evidence. Each person can form
upon that evidence a decided conviction of his own, but it is too scanty
to admit of any positive conclusion in which we may expect a general
acquiescence. In any case, it is clear that our Lord, from His earli
est infancy, must have been thrown into close connection with sev-
sufficient to observe that, as it assumes three at least of these " brethren" to have
been actual apostles, it is in flagrant contradiction to John vii. 5, to say nothing
of the fact that it depends on a, number of very dubious hypotheses. The Epi-
phanian theory seems to have been the tradition of Palestine, and is the one cur
rent in the Apocryphal Gospels (see Hofmann, Leben Jesu, 4) ; but I still believe- that
the Helvidian has an overwhelming preponderance of argument in its favor. The -
only two serious arguments against it are : (a) The fact that our Lord entrusted
His mother to the care of St. John, not of her own children ; but this is accounted
for by their acknowledged want of sympathy with Him up to that time. It is
true that the appearance of the risen Christ to James (1 Cor. xv. 7, see Lightfoot
ubi supr., p. 260) seems to have wholly converted them ;. but there may have been
many reasons why Mary should still live with the Apostle to whom the Lord had
entrusted her. (/J) The'fact that the names of the sons of Alphasus were identical
with those of the Lord's brethren; but this argument loses all force from the extreme
commonness of these names, which were as common among the Jews as John and
William among us. The genealogies of Joseph show, moreover, that they were
in part family and ancestral names. The imagined necessity of the d EiicapBevia
is no argument whatever, since it is abundantly clear that, had the Evangelists
believed in the importance of such a view, or held the superior sacredness of
celibacy over marriage, they would either have stated their belief, or would at
any rate have abstained from language which, in its obvious and only natural
significance, conveys the reverse notion. For undoubtedly the Helvidian view 
that they were actual sons of Joseph and Mary — is most in accordance with the
simple interpretation of the Gospel narratives. Not to dwell on the KpaoroToxoS
of Luke ii. '!, and the egoS ol of Matt. i. 25, and the icpiv % 6vveXBeiv avrovi
of Matt. i. 18, we have (a) the fact that they are always called dSsXcpol, never
dviTJnoi or dvyyevsiS (a fact which appears to me to be alone decisive against
the Hieronymian view, for reasons which I have given s. v. " Brother " in Smith's
Diet, of the Bible); and (/3) the fact that they are always found accompanying the
Virgin (John ii. 12 ; Matt. xii. 46), and not their own (supposed) mother, without
the slightest hint that they were not in reality her own children. To these I
would add, as against the Epiphanian theory, that, had the " brethren " been
elder sons of Joseph, Jesus would not have been regarded by any of His follow
ers as legal heir to the throne of David (see not only Matt i. 16 ; Luke i. 27 ¦ but
also Rom. i. 3 ; 2 Tim. ii. 8; Rev. xxii. 16).
1 That two sisters should both have received the same name seems very improb
able. The custom of the Herodian family would be little likely to prevail among
the peasants of Nazareth. I have, however, discovered one modern instance of
such a fact, and there are doubtless others.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 99
eral kinsmen, or brothers, a fittle older or a little younger than Him
self, who were men of marked individuality, of burning zeal, of a
simplicity almost bordering on Essenic asceticism, of overpowering
hostility to every form of corruption, disorder, or impurity, of strong
devotion to the Messianic hopes, and even to the ritual observances
of their country.1 We know that, though afterwards they became
pillars of the infant Church, at first they did not believe in our Lord's
Divinity, or at any rate held views which ran strongly counter to the
divine plan of His self-manifestation." Not among these, in any case,
did Jesus during His lif etim.e find His most faithful followers, or His
most beloved companions. There seemed to be in them a certain
strong opinionativeness, a Judaic obstinacy, a lack of sympathy, a
deficiency in the elements of tenderness and reverence. Peter, affec
tionate even in his worst weakness, generous even in his least con
trolled impulse ; James the son of Zebedee, calm and watchful, reti
cent and true ; above all, John, whose impetuosity lay involved in a
soul of the most heavenly tenderness, as the lightning slumbers in
the dewdrop — these were more to Him and dearer than His brethren
or kinsmen according _ to the flesh. A hard aggressive morality is
less beautiful than an absorbing and adoring love.3
9. Whether these little clouds of partial miscomprehension tended
in any way to overshadow the clear heaven of Christ's youth in the
little Galilsean town, we cannot tell. It may be that these brethren
toiled with Him at the same humble trade, lived with Him under the
1 Especially Jude and James, if, as seems at least possible, they were " the
Lord's brethren," and authors of the epistles which pass by their names, but were
not actual apostles (see James i. 1 ; Jude 17).
2 John vii. 3, 4 ; Mark iii. 21. Can there be any stronger evidence of the perfect
simplicity and truthfulness of the Gospel evidence than the fact that they faith
fully record what sceptics are pleased to consider so damaging an admission ? It
is exactly the reverse of what is said in the Apocr. Gospels, e. g. Apocr. Gosp.
Matt, xliii.
3 If, as Wieseler (Die Sohne Zebedai, Vettern des Herrn., Stud, und Krit. 1840)
with great probability supposes, there be any truth in the tradition (Nicephorus,
Hist. Ecc. ii. 3) that Salome was the sister of Mary, delicately alluded to but un
named in John xix. 25 (as compared with Matt, xxvii. 56 ; Mark xv. 40), then
James and John the sons of Zebedee were actually first cousins of our Lord. In
that case there would still be nothing surprising in their having first been disci
ples of the Baptist, for Mary and Elizabeth were related (Luke i. 36), and the
ministry of John^preceded that of Jesus. [Ewald even supposes that the Virgin
• was of the tribe of Levi, and connects with this not only the fact that Jesus wore
a seamless coat (John xix. 23), but also the story (Polycrates in Euseb. Hist. Ecc.
iii. 81, v. 24) that St. John in his old age wore the priestly itiraXov (Deut. xxxiii.
8) (see Gesch. Christ., p. 246). He accepts the conjecture and tradition that St.
John was related to Jesus, id. p. 239.]

100 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
same humble roof. But, however this may be, we are sure that He
would often be alone. Solitude would be to him, more emphatically
than to any child of man, " the audience-chamber of God ; " He would
beyond all doubt seek for it on the grey hill-sides, under the figs and
olive-trees, amid the quiet fields ; during the heat of noonday, and
under the stars of night. No soul can preserve the bloom and deli
cacy of its existence without lonely musing and silent prayer ; and
the greatness of this necessity is in proportion to the greatness of the
soul. There were many times during our Lord's ministry when, even
from the loneliness of desert places, He dismissed His most faithful
and most beloved, that He might be yet more alone.
10. It has been implied that there are but two spots in Palestine
where we may feel an absolute moral certainty that the feet of Christ
have trod, namely — the well-side at Shechem, and the turning of that
road from Bethany over the Mount of Olives from which Jerusalem
first bursts upon the view.1 But to these I would add at least another
— the summit of the hill on which Nazareth is built. That summit
is now unhappily marked, not by any Christian monument, but by
the wretched, ruinous, crumbling wely of some obscure Mohammedan
saint." Certainly there is no child of ten years old in Nazareth now,
however dull and unimpressionable he may be, who has not often
wandered up to it ; and certainly there could have been no boy at
Nazareth in olden days who had not followed the common instinct
of humanity by climbing up those thymy hill-slopes to the lovely and
easily accessible spot which gives a view of the world beyond. The
hill rises six hundred feet above the level of the sea. Four or five
hundred feet below lies the happy valley. The view from this spot
would in any country be regarded as extraordinarily rich and lovely ;
but it receives a yet more indescribable charm from our belief that
here, with His feet among the mountain flowers, and the soft breeze
lifting the hair from His temples, Jesus must often have watched the
eagles poised in the cloudless blue, and have gazed upwards as He
heard overhead the rushing plumes of the long line of pelicans, as
they winged their way from the streams of Kishon to the Lake of
Galilee. And what a vision would be outspread before Him, as He
sat at spring-time on the green and thyme-besprinkled turf ! To
Him every field and fig-tree, every palm and garden, every house
and synagogue, would have been a familiar object ; and most fondly
of all amongst the square flat-roofed houses would His eye single out
1 Stanley, Sin. and Pal., p. 194. 2 Neby Ismail.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 101
the little dwelling-place of the village carpenter. To the north, just
beneath them, lay the narrow and fertile plain of Asochis,1 from
which rise the wood-crowned hills of Naphtali, and conspicuous on
one of them was Safed, " the city set upon a hill ; " " beyond these, on
the far horizon, Hermon upheaved into the blue the huge splendid
mass of his colossal shoulder, white with eternal snows.3 Eastward,
at a few miles' distance, rose the green and rounded summit of Tabor,
clothed with terebinth and oak. To the west He would gaze through
that diaphanous air on the purple ridge of Carmel, among whose
forests Elijah had found a home ; and on Caifa and Accho, and the
dazzling line of white sand which fringes the waves of the Mediter
ranean, dotted here and there with the white sails of the " ships of
Chitthn." 4 Southwards, broken only by the graceful outlines of
Little Hermon and Gilboa, lay the entire plain of Esdraelon, so
memorable in the history of Palestine and of the world; across
which lay the southward path to that city which had ever been the
murderess of the prophets, and where it may be that even now, in
the dim foreshadowing of prophetic vision, He foresaw the agony
in the garden, the mockings and scourgings, the cross and the crown
of thorns.
The scene which lay there outspread before the eyes of the youth
ful Jesus was indeed a central spot in the world which He came to
save. It was in the heart of the Land of Israel, and yet — separated
from it only by a narrow boundary of hills and streams — Phoenicia,
Syria, Arabia, Babylonia, and Egypt lay close at hand. The Isles of
the Gentiles, and all the glorious regions of Europe, were almost vis
ible over the shining waters of that Western sea. The standards of
Rome were planted on the plain before Him ; the language of Greece
was spoken in the towns below. And however peaceful it then might
look, green as a pavement of emeralds, rich with its gleams of vivid
sunlight, and the purpling shadows which floated over it from the
clouds of the latter rain, it had been for centuries a battle-field of
nations. Pharaohs and Ptolemies, Emirs and Arsacids, Judges and
Consuls, had all contended for the mastery of that smiling tract. It
had glittered with the lances of the Amalekites ; it had trembled
1 Now called El Buttauf.
2 The present town of Safed is of much later date ; but a city or fortress most
probably existed there in our Lord's time.
3 The epithet is so far accurate, that even in September snow would be found
in the ravines and crevices of Hermon. (Report of Pal. Explor. Fund, 1870
p. 230.)
4 I describe the scene as I saw it on Easter Sunday, April 17. 1870.

102 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
under the chariot-wheels of Sesostris ; it had echoed the twanging
bowstrings of Sennacherib ; it had been trodden by the phalanxes of
Macedonia ; it had clashed with the broadswords of Rome ; it was
destined hereafter to ring with the battle-cry of the Crusaders, and
thunder with the artillery of England and of France. In that Plain
of Jezreel, Europe and Asia, Judaism and Heathenism, Barbarism
and Civilization, the Old and the New Covenant, the history of the
past and the hopes of the present, seemed all to meet. No scene of
deeper significance for the destinies of humanity could possibly have
arrested the youthful Saviour's gaze.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. JQ3

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BAPTISM OF JOHN.

" John than which man a sadder or a greater
Not till this day has been of woman born ;
John like some iron peak by the Creator
Fired with the red glow of the rushing morn." — Myeus.
Thus then His boyhood, and youth, and early manhood had passed
away in humble submission and holy silence, and Jesus was now
thirty years old.1 That deep lesson for all classes of men in every
age, which was involved in the long toil and obscurity of those thirty
years, had been taught more powerfully than mere words could
teach it, and the hour for His ministry and for the great work of His
redemption had now arrived. He was to be the Saviour not only by
example, but also by revelation, and by death.
And already there had begun to ring that Voice in the Wilder
ness which was stirring the inmost heart of the nation with its cry,
" Repent ye, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand."
It was an age of transition, of uncertainty, of doubt. In the
growth of general corruption, in the wreck of sacred institutions, in
those dense clouds which were gathering more and more darkly on
the political horizon, it must have seemed to many a pious Jew as if
the fountains of the great deep were again being broken up.
Already the sceptre had departed from his race ; already its high-
priesthood was contemptuously tampered with by Idumgean tetrarchs
or Roman procurators ; already the chief influence over his degraded
Sanhedrin was in the hands of supple Herodians or wily Sadducees.
It seemed as if nothing were left for his consolation but an increased
fidelity to Mosaic institutions, and a deepening intensity of Mes
sianic hopes. At an epoch so troubled, and so restless — when old
things were rapidly passing away, and the new continued unre-
vealed — it might almost seem excusable for a Pharisee to watch for
every opportunity of revolution; and still more excusable for an
' On the elaborate chronological data for the commencement of the Baptist's
ministry given by St. Luke (iii. 1, 2), see Excursus I., " Date of Christ's Birth.'"

104 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Essene to embrace a life of celibacy, and retire from the society of
, man. There was a general expectation of that " wrath to come,"
which was to be the birth -throe of the coming kingdom — the
darkness deepest before the dawn.1 The world had grown old,
and the dotage of its paganism was marked by hideous excesses.
Atheism in belief was followed, as among nations it has always been,
by degradation of morals. Iniquity seemed to have run its course
to the very farthest goal. Philosophy had abrogated its boasted
functions except for the favored few. Crime- was universal, and
there was no known remedy for the horror and ruin which it was
causing in a thousand hearts. Remorse itself seemed to be ex
hausted, so that men were " past feeling." " There was a callosity
of heart, a petrifying of the moral sense, which even those who
suffered from it felt to be abnormal and portentous.3 Even the
heathen world felt that " the fulness of the time " had come.
At such periods the impulse to an ascetic seclusion becomes very
strong. Solitary communion with God amid the wildest scenes of
1 Mai. iii. 1; iv. 2. The ixxoitrerai and fidXXsrai of Mat. iii. 10 are the
so-called praesens futurascens — i.e., they imply that the fiat had gone forth;
that the law had already begun to work ; that the doom was now in course of
accomplishment. Probably the words " kingdom of heaven " (malkiith shamajim)
and " coming time" (olamha-ba) were frequent at this time on pious lips; but
the Zealots were expecting a warrior as Messiah; and the school of Shammai a
legalist ; and the Essenes an ascetic ; and the philosophic schools some divine
vision (Philo, De Execratt. ii. 435; GrSitz, Gesch. d. Juden, iii. 218). It has been
impossible for me here to enter into the vast literature about the Messianic con
ception prevalent at the time of our Lord ; but it seems clear that Ewald,
Hilgenfeld, Keim (as against Volkmar, &c.) are right in believing that there was
at this time a fully-developed Messianic tradition. The decision depends mainly
on the date of various Apocryphal writings — the Book of Enoch, the Fourth
Book of Esdras, the Ascension of Moses, the Psalms of Solomon, the third book
of the Sibylline prophecies, &c. See especially Hilgenfeld's Messias Judaeorum.
He certainly proves that the 2nd Psalm of Solomon was written about B. C. 48.
2 icdv EiSoi xaniai Sie^EXBovda ¦)) arudii r) dvBpGOTtivr/ iSsiro BtpaitEiai^
(Theophyl.); Eph. iv. 19, ditrfXyqxorES.'"1 I have slightly sketched the charac
teristics of this age in Seekers after God, pp. 36 — 53 ; a powerful picture of its
frightful enormities may be seen in Renan, L' Antechrist, or D&llinger, The Jew
and the Gentile. It were better to know nothing of it, than to seek a notion of
its condition in the pages of Juvenal, Martial, Suetonius, Apuleius, and Petronius.
Even in the case of Dr. Dollinger's book, one cannot but feel that he might have
attended to the noble rule of Tacitus, " Scelera ostendi oportet dum puniuntur,
abscondi flagitia" 11 (Tac. Germ. 12). Too .much of what has been written on the
abysmal degradations of a decadent Paganism resembles the Pharos lights which
sometimes caused the shipwreck of those whom they were meant to save. There
are Borne things which, as a Church Father says of the ancient pantomimes, " ne
accusari quidem possunt honeste." 12
8 TtGopaodii rrji xapSiaS™ (Eph. iv. 17—19). dicoXiBaDdil™ (Epict. Diss. i. 53)

THE LIFE OF OHRIST. 105
nature seems preferable to the harassing speculations of a dispirited
society. Self-dependence, and subsistence upon the very scantiest
resources which can supply the merest necessities of life, are more
attractive than the fretting anxieties and corroding misery of a
crushed and struggling poverty. The wildness and silence of indif
ferent Nature appear at such times to offer a delightful refuge from
the noise, the meanness, and the malignity of men. Banus, the
Pharisee, who retired into the wilderness, and lived much as the
hermits of the Thebaid lived in after years, was only one of many
who were actuated by these convictions. Josephus, who for three
years ' had lived with him in his mountain-caves, describes his stern
self-mortifications and hardy life, his clothing of woven leaves, his
food of the chance roots which he could gather from the soil, and
his daily and nightly plunge in the cold water that his body might
be clean and his heart pure.
But asceticism may spring from very different motives. It may
result from the arrogance of the cynic who wishes to stand apart
from all men ; or from the disgusted satiety of the epicurean who
would fain find a refuge even from himself; or from the selfish
terror of the fanatic, intent only on his own salvation. Far different
and far nobler was the hard simplicity and noble self-denial of the
Baptist. It is by no idle fancy that the mediaeval painters represent
him as emaciated by a proleptic asceticism." The tendency to the
life of a recluse had shown itself in the youthful Nazarite from his
earliest years ; but in him it resulted from the consciousness of a
glorious mission — it was from the desire to fulfil a destiny inspired
by burning hopes. St. John was a dweller in the wilderness, only
that he might thereby become the prophet of the Highest. The
light which was within him should be kindled, if need be, into a
self -consuming flame, not for his own glory, but that it might
illuminate the pathway of the coming King.
The nature of St. John the Baptist was full of impetuosity and
fire. The long struggle which had given him so powerful a mastery
over himself — which had made him content with self -obliteration
before the presence of his Lord — which had inspired him with
fearlessness in the face of danger, and humility in the midst of
applause — had left its traces in the stern character, and aspect, and
teaching of the man. If he had»won peace in the long prayer and
1 Joseph. Vit. 2, if the reading itap> avrap and not aap' avroii be right.
1 As, for instance, in a fine picture by Sandro Botticelli in the Borghees Palace
at Rome. Compare the early life of St. Benedict of Nursia.
14

106 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
penitence of his life in the wilderness, it was not the spontaneous
peace of a placid and holy soul. The victory he had won was still
encumbered with traces of the battle ; the calm he had attained still
echoed with the distant mutter of the storm. His very teaching
reflected the imagery of the wilderness — the rock, the serpent, the
barren tree. "In his manifestation and agency," it has been said,
" he was like a burning torch ; his public life was quite an earth
quake — the whole man was a sermon ; he might well call himself a
voice — the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the
way of the Lord." l
While he was musing the fire burned, and at the last he spake
with his tongue. Almost from boyhood he had been a voluntary
eremite. In solitude he had learnt things unspeakable; there the
unseen world had become to him a reality; there his spirit had
caught "a touch of phantasy and flame." Communing with his
own great lonely heart — communing with the high thoughts of
that long line of prophets, his predecessors to a rebellious people- —
communing with the utterances that came to him from the voices of
the mountain and the sea — he had learnt a deeper lore than he could
have ever learnt at Hillel's or Shammai's feet. In the tropic noonday
of that deep Jordan valley, where the air seems to be full of a subtle
and quivering flame — in listening to the howl of the wild beasts in
the long night, under the lustre of stars " that seemed to hang like
balls of fire in a purple sky " — in wandering by the sluggish cobalt-
colored waters of that dead and accursed lake, until before his eyes,
dazzled by the saline efflorescence of the shore strewn .with its wrecks
of death, the ghosts of the guilty seemed to start out of the sulphur
ous ashes under which they were submerged — he had learnt a lan
guage, he had received a revelation, not vouchsafed to ordinary men
— attained, not in the schools of the Rabbis, but in the school of sol
itude, in the school of God."
Such teachers are suited for such times. There was enough and
to spare of those respectable, conventional teachers, who spake smooth
things and prophesied deceits. The ordinary Scribe or Pharisee, sleek
with good living and supercilious with general respect, might get up

1 Lange, ii., p. 11, E. Tr.
2 The Jews of that day had but little sense of the truth expressed by the very
greatest of Greek thinkers, Herakleitos, itoXvuaBir) voov ov SiSadxei.15 " Dass
aber Jesu auch innerlich der Hohen Schule jener Zeit nicht bedurfte," says Ewald,
" zeigt uns nur umso deutlicher welcher Geist von anfang an in Ihm waltete " ,s
(Gesch. Christ., p. 250. The remarks which follow are also worthy of profound
study).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. - 107
in the synagogue, with his broad phylacteries and luxurious robes,
and might, perhaps, minister to some sleepy edification with his mid-
rash of hair-splitting puerilities and threadbare precedents ; but the
very aspect of John the Baptist would have shown that there was
another style of teacher here. Even before the first vibrating tone
of a voice that rang with scorn and indignation, the bronzed counte
nance, the unshorn locks, the close-pressed lips, the leathern girdle,
the mantle of camel's hair,1 would at once betoken that here at last
was a man who was a man indeed in all his natural grandeur and
dauntless force, and who, like the rough Bedawy prophet who was
his antitype, would stand unquailing before purple Ahabs and adul
terous Jezebels. And then his life was known. It was known that
his drink was water of the river, and that he lived on locusts * and
wild honey.3 Men felt in him that power of mastery which is always
granted to perfect self-denial. He who is superior to the common
ambitions of man is superior also to their common timidities. If he
have little to hope from the favor of his fellows he has little to fear
from their dislike ; with nothing to gain from the administration of
servile flattery, he has nothing to lose by the expression of just rebuke.
He sits as it were above his, brethren, on a sunlit eminence of peace
and purity, unblinded by the petty mists that dim their vision,
untroubled by the petty influences that disturb their fife.
No wonder that such a man at once made himself felt as a power
in the midst of his people. It became widely rumored that, in the
wilderness of Judsea, lived one whose burning words it was worth
while to hear ; one who recalled Isaiah by his expressions,4 Elijah by
his life. A Tiberius was polluting by his infamies the throne of the
Empire ; a Pontius Pilate with his insolences, cruelties, extortions,
massacres, was maddening a fanatic people ; 6 Herod Antipas was ex
hibiting to facile learners the example of calculated apostasy and
1 Cf. 2 Kings i. 8 ; Zech. xiii. 4 ; Heb. xi. 37.
2 Lev. xi. 22 ; Plin. ii. 29. The fancy that it means the pods of the so-called
locust-tree (carob) is a mistake. Locusts are sold as articles of food iu regular
shops for the purpose at Medina , they are plunged into salt boiling water, dried
in the sun, and eaten with butter, but only by the poorest beggars. Most Be-
dawin speak of eating them with disgust and loathing (Thomson, Land and Book,
II. xxviii.).
8 1 Sam. xiv. 25 ; Ps. lxxxi. 16.
4 Compare Isa. lix. 5 with Matt. iii. 7; Isa. iv. 4 and xii v. 3 with Matt. iii. 11;
Isa. xl. 3 with Luke iii. 4 ; Isa. Iii. 10 with Luke iii. 6, &c.
5 Tdi SoopoSoxiai, rdi vfipEii, rdi dpicaydi, rdi aixia?,^ rdi kmjpttai,
rovi dxpirovi xai iitaXXijXovi cpovovi, rrjv dvtfvvvov xai dpyaXsoordrr/v
GouoTjjra, x. r. A.'6 1 (Philo, Leg. 1033.)

108 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
reckless lust ; Caiaphas and Annas were dividing the functions of a
priesthood which they disgraced. Yet the talk of the new Prophet
was not of political circumstances such as these ; the lessons he had
to teach were deeper and more universal in their moral and social
significance. Whatever might be the class who flocked to his stern
solitude, his teaching was intensely practical, painfully hearl>search-
ing, fearlessly downright. And so Pharisee and Sadducee, scribe' and
soldier, priest and publican, all thronged to listen to his words.1 The
place where fie preached was that wild range of uncultivated and
untenanted wilderness, which stretches southward from Jericho and
the fords of Jordan to the shores of the Dead Sea. The cliff's that
overhung the narrow defile which led from Jerusalem to Jericho
were the haunt of dangerous robbers ; the wild beasts and the croco
diles were not yet extinct in the reed-beds that marked the swellings
of Jordan; yet from every quarter of » the country — from priestly
Hebron, from holy Jerusalem, from smiling Galilee — they came
streaming forth," to catch the accents of this strange voice. And the
words of that voice were like a hammer to dash in pieces the flintiest
heart, like a flame to pierce into the most hidden thoughts. Without
a shadow of euphemism, without an accent of subservience, without
a tremor of hesitation, he rebuked the tax-gatherers for their extor-
tionateness ; the soldiers for their violence, unfairness, and discon
tent ; 3 the wealthy Sadducees, and stately Pharisees, for a formalism
and falsity which made them vipers of a viperous brood.4 The whole
people he warned that their cherished privileges were worse than
valueless if, without repentance, they regarded them as a protection
against the wrath to come. They prided themselves upon their high
descent ; but God, as He had created Adam out of the earth, so even
out of those flints upon the strand of Jordan was able to raise up
children unto Abraham." They listened with accusing consciences

1 But the Pharisees " were not baptized of him " (Luke vii. 30). St. John ex
presses the frankest and most contemptuous amazement at their presence (Matt.
iii. 7). And their brief willingness to listen was soon followed by the violent and
summary judgment, " He hath a devil " (Matt. xi. 18). This was not the only age
in which such a remark has served as an angry and self-deceiving synonym for
" we cannot and will not accept his words."
8 Matt. iii. 5, i^Eitopsvero.
3 drpaTEvo/iEvoi (Luke iii. 14) means " soldiers on the march ; "¦ what the occa
sion was we do not know.
4 " Offspring of vipers," " Serpentes e serpentibus " (Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr., in
Matt. iii. 7). Cf. Ps. lviii. 4; Isa. xiv. 29.
6 Cf. John viii. 33 ; Rom. ii. 28 ; iv. 16 ; ix. 6. Cdmp. Jer. vii. 4. ju?} apkvdBz
Xsyeiv iv iavroK (Luke iii. 8), "do not even for a moment begin to imagine."
" Omnem excusatioiys etiam conatum praecidit " '6 X (Bengel).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 109
and stricken hearts ; and since he had chosen baptism as his symbol
of their penitence and purification, " they were baptized of him in
Jordan, confessing then sins." Even those who did not submit to
his baptism were yet " willing for a season to rejoice in his light."
But he had another and stranger message — a message sterner, yet
more hopeful — to deliver ; for himself he would claim no authority
save as the forerunner of another ; for his own baptism no value,
save as an initiation into the kingdom that was at hand.1 When the
deputation from the Sanhedrin asked him who he was — when all the
people were musing in their hearts whether he were the Christ or
no — he never for a moment hesitated to say that he was not the
Christ, nor Elias, neither that prophet." He was " a voice in the
wilderness," and nothing more; but after him — and this was the
announcement that stirred most powerfully the hearts of men — after
him was coming One who was preferred before him, for Pie was
before him 3 — One whose shoe's latchet he was unworthy to unloose 4
— One who should baptize, not with water, but with the Holy Ghost,
and with fire 6 — One whose fan was in His hand, and who should
thoroughly purge His floor — who should gather His wheat into the
garner, but burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire. The hour for
the sudden coming of their long-promised, long-expected Messiah
was at hand. His awful presence was near them, was among them,
but they knew Him not.
Thus repentance and the kingdom of heaven were the two cardi
nal points of his preaching, and though he did not claim the creden
tials of a single miracle,6 yet while he threatened detection to the

1 It was, as Olshausen says, " a baptism of repentance," not " a laver of regen
eration " (Titus iii. 5).
2 i.e., one of the great prophets like Jeremiah (cf. 2 Mace. ii. 7), whose return
was expected as a precursor of the Messiah, and who was especially alluded to in
Deut. xviii. 15, 18 ; Acts iii. 22 ; vii. 37.
8 The Ttpooroi uov of Johni. 30 means something more than merely EixitpodBiv
ixov viz., " long before me." (See Ewald, Gesch. Christus, p. 232.)
4 Or, "to carry his shoes " (Matt. iii. 11). Both were servile functions.
The most immediate and obvious interpretation of these words is to be found
in Acts ii. 3 : but there may also be a reference to fiery trials (Luke xii. 49 ; 1 Pet.
i. 7) and fiery judgments (i Cor. iii. 13).
« This should be noted as a most powerful argument of the Gospel truthful
ness If as the schools of modern rationalists argue, the miracles be mere myths
woven into a circle of imaginative legends devised to glorify the Founder of Chris
tianity why was no miracle attributed to St. John ? Not certainly from any defi
cient sense of his greatness, nor from any disinclination to accept miraculous evi
dence Surely if it were so easy and so natural as has been assumed to weave a
garland of myth and miracle round the brow of a great teacher, John was con-

HO THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
hypocrite and destruction to the hardened, he promised also pardon
to the penitent and admission into the kingdom of heaven to the
pure and clean. " The two great utterances," it has been said,
" which he brings from the desert, contain the two capital revelations
to which all the preparation of the Gospel has been tending. Law
and prophecy ; denunciation of sin and promise of pardon ; the flame
which consumes and the light which consoles — is not this the whole
of the covenant ? "
To this preaching, to . this baptism, in the thirtieth year of His
age,1 came Jesus from Galilee. John was his kinsman by birth,"
but the circumstances of their life had entirely separated them.
John, as a child in the house of the blameless priest his father,
had lived at Juttah, in the far south of the tribe of Judah, and
not far from Hebron ; " Jesus had lived in the deep seclusion of the
carpenter's shop in the valley of Galilee. When he first came to the
banks of the Jordan, the great forerunner, according to his own
emphatic and twice repeated testimony, " knew Him not." And yet,
though Jesus was not yet revealed as the Messiah to His great herald-
prophet, there was something in His look, something in the sinless
beauty of His ways, something in the solemn majesty of His aspect,
which at once overawed and captivated the soul of John. To others
he was the uncompromising prophet ; kings he could confront with
rebuke; Pharisees he could unmask with indignation; but before
this Presence all his lofty bearing falls. As when some unknown
dread checks the flight of the eagle, and makes him settle with
hushed scream and drooping plumage on the ground, so before " the
royalty of inward happiness," before the purity of sinless life, the
wild prophet of the desert becomes like a submissive and timid child.4

spicuously worthy of such an honor. Why then ? because " John did no miracle,"
and because the Evangelists speak the words of soberness and truth.
1 The arguments in favor of our Lord's having been fifty years of age, although
adopted by Irenaeus (Adv. Haer. ii. 22), partly apparently from tradition, partly on
fanciful grounds, and partly by mistaken inference from John viii. 57, are wholly
insufficient to outweigh the distinct statement by St. Luke, and the manifold
probabilities of the case.
2 The relationship between Mary and Elisabeth does not prove that Mary was
of the tribe of Levi, since intermarriage between the tribes was freely permitted
(2 Chron. xxii. 11).
3 On Juttah, see Luke i. 39, where the reading 'lovra (first suggested by
Reland, Pal. p. 870), though unconfirmed by any existing MS., is not impossible
(Josh. xv. 55) ; it was a priestly city (id. xxi. 16).
4 Stier beautifully says, " He has baptized many ; has seen, and in some sense
seen through men of all kinds ; but no one like this had as yet come before him.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. \\\
The battle-brunt which legionaries could not daunt — the lofty man
hood before which hierarchs trembled and princes grew pale —
resigns itself, submits, adores before a moral force which is weak in
every external attribute and armed only in an invisible mail. John
bowed to the simple stainless manhood before he had been inspired
to recognize the Divine commission. He earnestly tried to forbid
the purpose of Jesus.1 He who had received the confessions of all
others, now reverently and humbly makes his own. " I have need
to be baptized of Thee, and comest Thou to me?'"
The answer contains the second recorded utterance of Jesus, and
the first word of His public ministry — " Suffer it to be so now : for
thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness."
" I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean " 3 —
such seems to have been the burden of John's message to the sinners
who had become sincerely penitent.
But, if so, why did our Lord receive baptism at His servant's
hands? His own words tell us; it was to fulfil every requirement
to which God's will might seem to point (Ps. xl. 7, 8). He did not
accept it as subsequent to a confession, for He was sinless ; and in
this respect, even before he recognized Him as the Christ, the Bap
tist clearly implied that the rite would be in His case exceptional.4
But He received it as ratifying the mission of His great forerunner
— the last and greatest child of the Old Dispensation, the earliest
herald of the New ; and He also received it as the beautiful symbol
of moral purification, and the humble inauguration of a ministry
which came not to destroy the Law, but to fulfil. His own words
obviate all possibility of misconception. He does not say, " I must,"
but, " Thus it becometh us." He does not say, " I have need to be
baptized ; " nor does He say, " Thou hast no need to be baptized of
me," but He says, " Suffer it to be so now." This is, indeed, but the

They have all bowed down before him ; but before this Man bows down, in the irre
pressible emotion of his own most profound contrition, the sinful man in the great
est prophet." (Reden Jesu i. 28.)
1 Matt. iii. 14, SiexgoXvev.
2 " Tu ad me 1 aurum ad lutum ? ad scintillam fax 1 ad lucernam sol ? ad ser-
vum Filius ? ad peccatorem Agnus sine maculS ? " " (Lucas Brugensis.)
3 Ezek. xxxvi. 25.
4 'iva ro vSaop xaBapi'dy'" (Ignat. Eph. 18). " Baptisatur Christus non ut puri-
ficetur aquis, sed ut aquas ipse sanctificet " ,9 (Maxim. Serm. 7 de Epiphan.). " In
baptismo non tarn lavit aqua quam lota est, purgantur potius fluenta quam pur-
gant " 8° (Aug. Serm. 135, 4 ; Hofmann, p. 166).

112 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
baptism of repentance ; yet it may serve to prefigure the "laverof
regeneration." 1
So Jesus descended into the waters of Jordan, and there the awful
sign was given that this was indeed " He that should come." From
the cloven " heaven streamed the Spirit of God in a dovelike radiance
that seemed to hover over His head in lambent flame,3 and the Bath
Kol,1 which to the dull unpurged ear was but an inarticulate thunder,
spake in the voice of God to the ears of John • — " This is my beloved
Son, in whom I am well pleased."
1 icadav Siuaiodvvr/v (Matt. iii. 15) has been sometimes taken to mean " every
observance " (cf. vi. 1). Others, as Schenkel, have supposed that He submitted to
baptism as it were vicariously — i.a., as the representative of a guilty people.
Others, again (as Lange), say that the act was solidary in its character — that
" social righteousness drew Him down into the stream ; " i. e., that according to
the Old Testament legislation, His baptism was required because He was, as it
were, ceremonially unclean, as representing an unclean people. Compare the
remark of Cato, " Scito dominum pro totS familift rem divinam facere " 81 (De Re
Rustied, 143). Justin Martyr held this view, ovx °o$ ivSsa . . . dXX} vitip
rov yevovi rov rcSv dvOpaoitGOv 8S (Dial. c. Tryph. 88). And. so, too, the anti-
phon of the Benedictus in the Romish office for the Epiphany : " This day the
Church is united to her heavenly Spouse, for in Jordan Christ has washed away
her sins." St. Bernard and St. Bonaventura (and perhaps in myriads of instances
the profound intuition of a saint may give a view far more true and lofty than
the minute criticism of a theologian) mainly see in the act its deep humility.
" Thus placing the confirmation of perfect righteousness in the perfection of
humility." (St. Bern. Serm. 47 in Cant.; St. Bonavent. Vita Ghristi, cap. xiii.)
2 eiSe dxi^o/j.Ev ovS rovi ovpavovi (Mark i. 10). The whole context seems
to show that Theodoret and Jerome were right in supposing that this was a
¦rtvEv/narixr] Btwpia — a sight seen, "non reseratione elementorum, sed spiritu-
alibus oculis." 83
-3 " Spiritus Jesu, spiritus columbinus " 84 (Bacon, Meditt. Sacr.). Some ancient
Christian mystics explained the appearance by Gematria, because iCEpidrepd =
801 =A£l. We need not necessarily suppose an actual dove, as is clear from
John i. 32 ; the expression in the three Gospels is aodel TtEpidrepdv, though St.
Luke adds dao/nanxGO el'Sei. Compare Targum, Cant. ii. 12, " Vox turturis vox
spiritus sancti ; " u and 2 Esdras v. 26 ; 1 Mace. i. 2 ; and Milton's " with mighty
wings outspread, Dovelike, sat'st brooding on the vast abyss " (Par. Lost, i. 20).
In the tract Chagigah, we find, " The Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters
like a dove " (Gen. i. 2).
4 On the Bath Kdl, see Gfrorer, Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 253, seqq. ; Otho, Lex. Rabb.
s. v. The term was sometimes applied to voices from heaven, sometimes to sounds
repeated by natural echo, sometimes to chance words overruled to providential
significance (Etheridge, Hebr., Literat., p. 39). The Apocryphal Gospels add that
a fire was kindled in Jordan (J. Mart. c. Tryph. 88 ; Hofmann, p. 299),

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. \\§

CHAPTER IX.
THE TEMPTATION.
"Ideo tentatus est Christus, ne vincatur a Tentatore Christianus." 86  Aug
in Ps. Ix.
His human spirit filled with overpowering emotions, Jesus sought
for retirement, to be alone with God, and once more to think over
His mighty work. From the waters of the Jordan He was led —
according to the more intense and picturesque expression of St.
Mark, He was " driven" — by the Spirit into the wilderness.1
A tradition, said to be no older than the time of the Crusades,
fixes the scene of the temptation at a mountain to the south of
Jericho, which from this circumstance has received the name of
Quarantania. Naked and arid like a mountain of malediction,
rising precipitously from a scorched and desert plain, and looking
over the sluggish, bituminous waters of the Sodomitic sea — thus
offering a sharp contrast to the smiling softness of the Mountain of
Beatitudes and the limpid crystal of the Lake of Gennesareth —
imagination has seen in it a fit place to be the haunt of evil influ
ences " — a place where, in the language of the prophets, the owls
dwell and the satyrs dance.
1 Cf. Rom. viii. 14; Ezek. iii. 14; Mark i. 12, to HvEvixa ixfidXXEi avrov
Eii rrjv epr/)j.ov. St. John, perhaps, among other reasons which are unknown to
us, from his general desire to narrate nothing of which he had not been an eye
witness, omits the narrative of the temptation, which clearly followed immedi
ately after the baptism. Unless a charge of dishonesty be deliberately main
tained, and an adequate reason for such dishonesty assigned, it is clearly unfair
to say that a fact is wilfully suppressed simply because it is not narrated. It
seems probable that on the last day of the temptation came the deputation to
John from the priests and Levites, and on the following day Christ returned from
the desert, and was saluted by the Baptist as the Lamb of God.
2 Bab. Erubhin, f. 19, la; Isa. xiii. 21, 22; xxxiv. 14. The Rabbis said that
there were three mouths of Gehenna — in the Desert (Numb. xvi. 33), in the sea
(Jonah ii. 3), and at Jerusalem (Isa. xxxi. 9). Cf. 4 Mace, xviii., ov SistpBsipE /is
Xv/iegov iprffiiai, aoBopEvS iv rteSiao.*'' Azazel (Lev. xvi. 10, Heb.) was a
demon of "dry places" (cf. Matt. xii. 43). (Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr.; Keim, i.
638.) — Milton's description (Par. Reg. iii. 242), probably derived from some
authentic source, " would almost seem to have been penned on the spot."
(Porter, Palestine, i. 185.)
15

114 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
And here Jesus, according to that graphic and pathetic touch of
the second Evangelist, " was with the wild beasts." They did not
harm Him. " Thou shalt tread upon the lion and the adder : the
young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet." So had
the voice of olden promise spoken ; 1 and in Christ, as in so many of
His children, the promise was fulfilled. Those whose timid faith
shrinks from all semblance of the miraculous, need find nothing to
alarm them here. It is not a natural thing that the wild creatures
should attack with ferocity, or fly in terror from, their master man.
A poet has sung of a tropical isle that —
" Nor save for pity was it hard to take
The helpless life, so wild that it was tame." 2
The terror or the fury of animals, though continued by hereditary
instinct, was begun by cruel and wanton aggression ; and historical
instances are not wanting in which both have been overcome by the
sweetness, the majesty, the gentleness of man. There seems to be no
adequate reason for rejecting the unanimous belief of the early centu
ries that the wild beasts of the Thebaid moved freely and harmlessly
among the saintly eremites, and that even the wildest living creatures
were tame and gentle to St. Francis of Assisi. Who has not known
pedple whose presence does not scare the birds, and who can approach,
without danger, the most savage dog ? We may well believe that
the mere human spell of a living and sinless personality would go
far to keep the Saviour from danger. In the catacombs and on other
ancient monuments of early Christians, He is sometimes represented
as Orpheus charming the animals with his song. All that was true
and beautiful in the old legends found its fulfilment in Him, and was
but a symbol of His life and work.
And He was in the wilderness forty days. The number occurs
again and again in Scripture, and always in connection with the facts
of temptation or retribution. It is clearly a sacred and representa
tive number, and independently of other associations, it was for forty
days that Moses had stayed on Sinai, and Elijah in the wilderness.
In moments of mtense excitement and overwhelming thought the
ordinary needs of the body seem to be modified, or even for a time
superseded ; and unless we are to understand St. Luke's words, " He
did eat nothing," as being absolutely literal, we might suppose that
Jesus found all that was necessary for His bare sustenance in such

1 Ps. xci. 13. " The beasts of the field shall be at peace with thee " (Job v. 23)
2 Tennyson's Enoch Arden.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. H5
scant fruits as the desert might afford ; ¦ but however that may be —
and it is a question of little importance — at the end of the time He
hungered. And this was the tempter's moment. The whole period
had been one of moral and spiritual tension." During such high
hours of excitement men will sustain, without succumbing, an almost
incredible amount of labor, and soldiers will fight through a long
day's battle unconscious or oblivious of their wounds. But when the
enthusiasm is 'spent, when the exaltation dies away, when the fire
burns low, when Nature, weary and overstrained, reasserts her rights
— in a word, when a mighty reaction has begun, which leaves the
man suffering, spiritless, exhausted — then is the hour of extreme
danger, and that has been, in many a fatal instance, the moment in
which a man has fallen a victim to insidious allurement or bold
assault. It was at such a moment that the great battle of our Lord
against the powers of evil was fought and won.
The struggle was, as is evident, no mere allegory. Into the exact
external nature of the temptation it seems at once superfluous and
irreverent to enter — superfluous, because it is a question in which
any absolute decision is for us impossible ; irreverent, because the
Evangelists could only have heard it from the lips of Jesus, or of
those to whom He communicated it, and our Lord could only have
narrated it in the form which conveys at once the truest impression
and the most instructive lessons. Almost every different expositor
has had a different view as to the agency employed, and the objective
or subjective reality of the entire event.3 From Origen down to
Schleiermacher some have regarded it as a vision or allegory — the
symbolic description of a purely inward struggle ; and even so literal
and orthodox a commentator as Calvin has embraced this view. On
this point, which is a matter of mere exegesis, each must hold the
view which seems to him most in accordance with the truth ; but the
one essential point is that the struggle was powerful, personal, in-
1 The Jewish hermit Banus lived for years on the spontaneous growth of this
very desert (Jos. Vit. 2). The vr/drEvdai of St. Matthew does not necessarily
imply an absolute fast.
2 Luke iv. 2, " Being forty days tempted of the devil."
3 Very few writers in the present day will regard the story of the temptation
as a narrative of objective facts. Even Lange gives the story a natural turn, and
supposes that the tempter may have acted through the intervention of human
agency. Not only Hase and Weisse, but even Olshausen, Neander, Ullmann, and
many orthodox commentators, make the narrative entirely symbolical, and treat
it as a profound and eternally significant parable. For a fuller discussion of the
subject, see the Excursus " On Different Views of the Temptation " in Ullmann's
beautiful treatise on The Sinlessness of Jesus (pp. 264: — 291, third edition, E. Tr.).

116 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
tensely real — that Christ, for our sakes, met and conquered the
tempter's utmost strength.
The question as to whether Christ was or was not capable of sin
— to express it in the language of that scholastic and theological
region in which it originated, the question as to the peccability or
impeccability of His human nature — is one which would never occur
to a simple and reverent mind. We believe and know that our
blessed Lord was sinless — the Lamb of God, without blemish, and
without spot. What can be the possible edification or advantage in
the discussion as to whether this sinlessness sprang from a posse non
peccare or a non posse peccare ? Some, in a zeal at once intemperate
and ignorant, have claimed for Him not only an actual sinlessness,
but a nature to which sin was divinely and miraculously impossible.
What then ? If His great conflict were a mere deceptive phantasma
goria, how can the narrative of it profit us ? If we have to fight the
battle clad in that armor of human free-will which has been hacked
and riven about the bosom of our fathers by so many a cruel blow,
what comfort is it to us if our great Captain fought not only victo
riously, but without real danger ; not only uninjured, but without
even a possibility of wound ? Where is the warrior's courage, if he
knows that for him there is but the semblance of a battle against the
simulacrum of a foe ? Are we not thus, under an appearance of
devotion, robbed of One who, " though He were a' son, yet learned
obedience by the things which He suffered ? " 1 Are we not thus,
under the guise of orthodoxy, mocked in our belief that we have a
High Priest who can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities,
" being tempted in all points like as we are, yet without sin ? " "
They who would thus honor Him rob us of our living Christ, who
was very man no less than very God, and substitute for Him a perilous
Apollinarian phantom enshrined " in the cold empyrean of theology,"
and alike incapable of kindling devotion, or of inspiring love.
Whether, then, it comes under the form of a pseudo-orthodoxy,
false and pharisaical, and eager only to detect or condemn the sup
posed heresy of others ; or whether it comes from the excess of a
dishonoring reverence which has degenerated into the spirit of fear
and bondage — let us beware of contradicting the express teaching of
the Scriptures, and, as regards this narrative, the express teaching of
Christ Himself, by a supposition that He was not liable to real temp
tation. Nay, He was liable to temptation all the sorer, because it
came like agony to a nature infinitely strong yet infinitely pure. In
1 Heb. v. 8. * Heb. iv. 15.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. H7
proportion as any one has striven all his life to be, like his great
Ensample, holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, in that
proportion will he realize the intensity of the struggle, the anguish of
the antipathy which pervade a nobler nature when, either by sugges
tions from within or from without, it has been dragged into even
apparent proximity to the possibilities of evil. There are few passages
in the Pilgrim? & Progress more powerful, or more suggestive of pro
found acquaintance with the mysteries of the human heart, than that
in which Christian in the Valley of the Shadow of Death finds his
mind filled with revolting images and blaspheming words, which
have indeed been but whispered into his ear, beyond his own powers
of rejection, by an evil spirit, but which, in his dire bewilderment,
he cannot distinguish or disentangle from thoughts which are his
own, and to which his will consents.' In Christ, indeed, we suppose
that such special complications would be wholly impossible, not be
cause of any transcendental endowments connected with " immanent
divinity " or the " communication of idioms," but because He had
lived without yielding to wickedness, whereas in men these illusions
arise in general from their own past sins. They are, in fact, nothing
else but the flitting spectres of iniquities forgotten or unf orgotten —
the mists that reek upward from the stagnant places in the deepest
caverns of hearts not yet wholly cleansed. No, in Christ there could
not be this terrible inability to discern that which comes from within
us and that which is forced upon us from without — between that
which the weak will has entertained, or to which, in that ever-shifting
border-land which separates thought from action, it has half assented,
1 There is something of the same conception in Milton's description of the
attempts made by the Evil Spirit to assoil the thoughts of Eve while yet she was
innocent : — " Him there the}- found
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve,
Assaying by his devilish art to reach
The organs of her fancy, and with them forge
Illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams,
At least distempered, discontented thoughts,
Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires." — Par. Lost, iv. 800.
The passage in the Pilgrim's Progress is, " Christian made believe that he spake
blasphemies, when it was Satan that suggested them into his mind." It is as
follows : — " One thing I would not let slip. I took notice that now poor Christian
was so confounded that he did not know his own voice, and thus I perceived it.
Just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the
wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly sug
gested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded
from his own mind . . . but he had not the discretion either to stop his ears,
or to know from whence those blasphemies came."

118 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
and that with which it does indeed find itself in immediate contact,
but which, nevertheless, it repudiates with every muscle and fibre of
its moral being. It must be a weak or a perverted intellect which
imagines that "man becomes acquainted with temptation only in
proportion as he is defiled by it," or that is unable to discriminate
between the severity of a powerful temptation and the stain of a
guilty thought. It may sound like a truism, but it is a truism much
needed alike for our warning and our comfort, when the poet who,
better than any other, has traversed every winding in the labyrinth
of the human heart, has told us with such solemnity,
" 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus,
Another thing to fall." '
And Jesus was tempted. The " Captain of our salvation " was
" made perfect through sufferings." " " In that He Himself hath
suffered being tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted." 3
The wilderness of Jericho and the Garden of Gethsemane — - these
witnessed His two most grievous struggles, and in these He tri
umphed wholly over the worst and most awful assaults of the enemy
of souls; but during no part of the days of His fiesh was He free
from temptation, since otherwise His life had been no true human
life at all, nor would He in the same measure have left us an
ensample that we should follow His steps. " Many other were the
occasions," says St. Bonaventura,4 " on which he endured tempta
tions." " They," says St. Bernard, " who reckon only three tempta
tions of our Lord, show their ignorance of Scripture." B He refers
to John vii. 1, and Heb. iv. 15 ; he might have referred still more
appositely to the express statement of St. Luke, that when the
temptation in the wilderness was over, the foiled tempter left Him
1 Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, ii. 1. Similarly St. Augustine says, " It is
the devil's part to suggest, it is ours not to consent ; " and St. Gregory, " Sin is first
by suggestion, then by delight, and lastly by consent." Luther, says Ullmann,
" well distinguishes between sentire tentationem and consentire tentationi. Unless
the tempting impression be felt, there is no real temptation ; but unless it be acqui
esced in or yielded to, there is no sin " (ubi supra, p. 129). " Where then is the
point in temptation at which sin begins, or at which it becomes itself sin 1 it is
there where the evil which is presented to us begins to make a determining im
pression upon the heart " (id.).
2 Heb. ii. 10.
' Heb. ii. 18.
4 Bonav. De Vit. Ghristi, xiv.
6 Bern. (Serm. xiv. in Ps. "Qui habitat"). Vulg. "Militia est vita hominis
super terram." 88 See too Theophylact in Aur. Gat. in Luc.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. H9
indeed, but left Him only '¦'¦for a season," [ or, as the words may
perhaps be rendered, "till a new opportunity occurred." Yet we
may well believe that when He rose victorious out of the dark wiles
in the wilderness, all subsequent temptations, until the last, floated
as lightly over His sinless soul as the cloud-wreath of a summer day
floats over the blue heaven which it cannot stain.
1. The exhaustion of a long fast would have acted more power
fully on the frame of Jesus from the circumstance that with Him
it was not usual. It was with a gracious purpose that He lived, not
as a secluded ascetic in hard and self-inflicted pangs, but as a man
with men. Nor does he ever enjoin fasting as a positive obligation,
although in two passages He more than sanctions it as a valuable aid
(Matt. vi. 16 — 18 ; ix. 15)." But, in general, we know from His
own words that He came " eating and drinking ; " practicing, not
abstinence, but temperance in all things, joining in the harmless
feasts and innocent assemblages of friends, so that His enemies
dared to say of Him, " Behold a gluttonous man and a winebibber,"
as of John they said, " He hath a devil." After His fast, therefore,
of forty days, however supported by solemn contemplation and
supernatural aid, His hunger would be the more severe. And then
it was that the tempter came ; in what form — whether as a spirit of
darkness or as an angel of light, whether under the disguise of a
human aspect or an immaterial suggestion, we do not know and
cannot pretend to say — content to follow simply the Gospel narra
tive, and to adopt its expressions, not with dry dogmatic assertion as
to the impossibility of such expressions being in a greater or less
degree allegorical, but with a view only to learn those deep moral
lessons which alone concern us, and which alone are capable of an
indisputable interpretation.
1 Luke iv. 13, dxpi xaipov. Much that I have here said is confirmed by a
passage in Greg. M. Horn. i. 16 (Wordsw. on Matt. iv. 1), " Tentari Christus potuit,
sed ejus mentem peccati delectatio non momordit. Ideo omnis diabolica ilia
tentatio foris non intusfuit." 89 And yet in spite of these and many more saintly
and erudite justifications of such a view from the writings of theologians in all
ages, the violent and prejudiced ignorance of modern dopadia still continues to
visit all such methods of interpretation with angry anathema and indiscriminate
abuse. 2 Matt. xvii. 21, from which it might seem that Jesus Himself fasted, is
omitted by Tischendorf on the authority of X, B, the Cureton Syriac, the Sahidic
version, &c. This interpolation arises, however, from Mark ix. 29, where the
words of Jesus should also perhaps end at itpodsvxff, and where xai vr/dTEia,
though widely sanctioned by the MSS. and versions, are omitted by X, B, K, and
rejected by Tischendorf. (When I refer to Tischendorf I mean the readings
adopted by him in his Synopsis Evangelica, 3d edition, 1871.)

120 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
" If Thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made
loaves." So spake the Tempter first. Jesus was hungry, and
"these stones" were perhaps those siliceous accretions, sometimes
known under the name of lapides judaici, which assume the exact
4 shape of little loaves of bread,1 and which were represented in legend
as the petrified fruits of the Cities of the Plain. The pangs of hun
ger work all the more powerfully when they are stimulated by the
added tortures of a quick imagination ; and if the conjecture be cor
rect, then the very shape and aspect and traditional origin of these
stones would give to the temptation an added force.
There can be no stronger proof of the authenticity and divine ori
gin of this narrative than the profound subtlety and typical univer
sality of each temptation. Not only are they wholly unlike the far
cruder and simpler stories of the temptation, in all ages, of those who
have been eminent saints, but there is in them a delicacy of insight,
an originality of conception, that far transcend the range of the most
powerful invention.
It was a temptation to the senses — an appeal to the appetites —
an impulse given to that lower nature which man shares with all the
animal creation. But so far from coming in any coarse or undis-
guisedly sensuous form, it came shrouded in a thousand subtle veils.
Israel, too, had been humbled, and suffered to hunger in the wilder
ness, and there, in his extreme need, God had fed him with manna,
which was as angels' food and bread from heaven. Why did not
the Son of God thus provide Himself with a table in the wilderness ?
He could do so if He liked, and why should He hesitate ? If an
angel had revealed to the fainting Hagar the fountain of Beer-lahai-
roi — -if an angel had touched the famishing Elijah, and shown him
food — why should He await even the ministry of angels to whom
such ministry was needless, but whom, if He willed it, angels would
have been so glad to serve ?
How deep is the wisdom of the reply ! Referring to the very les
son which the giving of the manna had been designed to teach, and
quoting one of the noblest utterances of Old Testament inspiration,
our Lord answered, "It standeth written," Man shall not live by
bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of
God." 3 And what a lesson lies herein for us — a lesson enforced by
1 So Matt. iv. 3, dproi ; Luke iv. 3, " that this stone become a loaf." Cf. Stan
ley's Sinai and Palestine, p. 154 (Elijah's melons).
2 Matt. iv. 4, ydypaicrai — the perfect indicates an abiding, eternal lesson.
3 Deut. viii. 3. Alford justly draws attention to the fact that Jesus meets and
defeats the temptation in His humanity ; "Man shall not," &c

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 121
how great an example — that we are not to be guided by the wants
of our lower nature ; that we may not misuse that lower nature for
the purposes of our own sustenance and enjoyment ; that we are not
our own, and may not do what we will with that which we imagine
to be our own ; that even those things which may seem lawful, are
yet not all expedient ; that man has higher principles of life than
material sustenance, as he is a higher existence than his material
frame.1 He who thinks that we, live by bread alone, will make the
securing of bread the chief object of his life — will determine to have
it at whatever cost — will be at once miserable and rebellious if even
for a time he be stinted or deprived of it, and, because he seeks no
diviner food, will inevitably starve with hunger in the midst of it.
But he who knows that man doth not live by bread alone, will not
thus, for the sake of living, lose all that makes life dear -*- will, when
he has done his duty, trust God to preserve with all things needful
the body He has made — will seek with more earnest endeavor the
bread from heaven, and that living water whereof he who drinketh
shall thirst no more.
And thus His first temptation was analogous in form to the last
taunt addressed to Him on the cross — " If Thou be the Son of God,
come down from the cross." "If" — since faith and trust are the
mainstay of all human holiness, the tempter is ever strongest in the
suggestion of such doubts ; strong, too, in his appeal to the free-will
and the self-will of man. " You may, you can — why not do it ? "
On the cross our Saviour answers not ; here He answers only to
express a great eternal principle. He does not say, " I am the Son
of God ; " in the profundity of His humiliation, in the extreme of
His self-sacrifice, He made not His equality with God a thing to be
grasped at," " but made Himself of no reputation." He foils the
tempter, not as very God, but as very man.
2. The order of the temptations is given differently by St. Mat
thew and St. Luke, St. Matthew placing second the scene on the pin
nacle of the Temple, and St. Luke the vision of the kingdoms of the
world. Both orders cannot be right, and possibly St. Luke may have
been influenced in his arrangement by the thought that a temptation
to spiritual pride and the arbitrary exercise of miraculous power was
a subtler and less transparent, and therefore more powerful one, than
the temptation to fall down and recognize the power of evil.3 But
1 " We live by admiration, hope, and love." (Wordsworth.)
2 Phil. ii. 6, ovx dpicayjxov f/yfjdaro to Eivai i'da &bgo.
3 Milton in the Paradise Regained may have been influenced to prefer the order
16

122 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the words, " Get thee behind me, Satan," recorded by both Evangel
ists (Luke iv. 8; Matt. iv. 10) — the fact that St. Matthew alone
gives a definite sequence ("then," " again") — perhaps, too, the con
sideration that St. Matthew, as one of the apostles, is more likely to
have heard the narrative immediately from the lips of Christ — give
greater weight to the order which he adopts.
Jesus had conquered and rejected the first temptation by the
expression of an absolute trust in God. Adapting itself, therefore,
with infinite subtlety to the discovered mood of the Saviour's soul,
the next temptation challenging as it were directly, and appealing
immediately to, this absolute trust, claims the illustration and expres
sion of it, not to relieve an immediate necessity, but to avert an
overwhelming peril. " Then he brought Him to the Holy City,1 and
setteth Him on the pinnacle of the Temple." " Some well-known pin
nacle of that well-known mass must be intended ; perhaps the roof of
the Stoa Basilike, or Royal Porch, on the southern side of the Tem
ple, which looked down sheer into the valley of the Kidron below it,
from a height so dizzy that, according to the description of Josephus,
if any one ventured to look down, his head would swim at the immeas
urable depth ; perhaps Solomon's Porch, the Stoa Anatolikh, which
as given in St. Luke, partly from this reason, and partly from the supposition that
angels rescued our Lord in safety from that dizzy height.
' Still called by the Arabs El-Kuds esh-Shereef, " the Holy, the Noble."
2 Matt. iv. 5, iiti to itTEpvyiov rov' ispov. The article is used in both Evan
gelists, and both times omitted by the English version .
" So saying, he caught Him up, and without wing
Of hippogrif , bore through the air sublime,
Over the wilderness, and o'er the plain,
Till underneath them fair Jerusalem,
The Holy City, lifted high her towers,
And higher yet the glorious Temple reared
Her pile, far off appearing like a mount
Of alabaster, topt with golden spires.
There, on the highest pinnacle, he set
The Son of God." (Milton, Par. Beg. iv. 462.)
These journeys through the air (though the sacred narrative says nothing
of them, clearly thereby tending to turn our attention wholly from the mere
secondary accidents and external form of the story to its inmost meaning) were
thoroughly in accordance with ordinary Jewish beliefs (1 Kings xviii. 12 ; 2 Kings
ii. 16 ; Acts viii. 39 ; Ezek. iii. 14). See, too, the apocryphal addition to Habakkuk,
and the text interpolated in the Ebionite Gospel of St. Matthew, " My mother the
Holy Ghost took me by a hair of the head and carried me to Mount Tabor." This
is quoted by Origen, in Joann. t. ii., § 6 ; and Jer. in Mic. vii. 6. The expression
" My mother " apparently arises from the fact that the Hebrew ruach is fern.
Jerome (in Isa. xl. 11) tells us that in Ps. Ixviii. 12, the Jews explain " maiden " of
the soul, and "mistress " of the Holy Spirit.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 123
Josephus also has described,1 and from which, according to tradition,
St. James, the Lord's brother, was afterwards precipitated into the
court below."
" If " — again that doubt, as though to awake a spirit of pride, in
the exercise of that miraculous display to which He is tempted — " if
thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down." " Thou art in danger
not self -sought ; save Thyself from it, as Thou canst and mayest, and
thereby prove Thy Divine power and nature. Is it not written that
the angels shall bear Thee up ? 3 Will not this be a splendid proof of
Thy trust in God ? " Thus deep and subtle was this temptation ; and
thus, since Jesus had appealed to Scripture, did the devil also " quote
Scripture for his purpose." For there was nothing vulgar, nothing
selfish, nothing sensuous in this temptation. It was an appeal, not
to natural appetites, but to perverted spiritual instincts. Does not
the history of sects, and parties, and churches, and men of high relig
ious claims, show us that thousands who could not sink into the
slough of sensuality, have yet thrust themselves arrogantly into need
less perils, and been dashed into headlong ruin from the pinnacle
of spiritual pride ? And how calm, yet full of warning, was that
simple answer, " It is written again, ' Thou shalt not tempt the Lord
thy God.' " The word in the original (ix.7teipdffei? — Matt. iv. 7;
Deut. vi. 16) is stronger and more expressive. It is, " Thou shalt not
tempt to the extreme the Lord thy God ;" thou shalt not, as it were,
presume on all that He can do for thee ; thou shalt not claim His
miraculous intervention to save thee from thine own presumption and
folly ; thou shalt not challenge His power to the proof. When thou
art in the path of duty trust in Him to the utmost with a perfect con
fidence ; but listen not to that haughty seductive whisper, " Ye shall
be as gods," and let there be no self-willed and capricious irreverence
in thy demand for* aid. Then — to add the words so cunningly omit
ted by the tempter — "shalt thou be safe in all thy ways."4 And
Jesus does not even allude to His apparent danger. Danger not self-
sought is safety. The tempter's own words had been a confession of
his own impotence — " Cast Thyself down." Even from that giddy
1 Jos. Antt. xv 11, § 5, dxoroSividv ; xx. 9, §7. See Caspari, p. 256.
2 Hegesippus ap. Euseb. H. E. ii. 23 ; Epiphan. Adv. Haeres. xxix. 4.
3 Ps. xci. 11, 12.
4Ps. xci. 11, 12. As the psalm is addressed to "Him that dwelleth in the secret
place of the Most High," the expression " all thy ways " can only mean ways of
innocence and holiness — the ways of God's providence. The only true meaning
of the text therefore excludes the insolent gloss put on it by the tempter ; and he
omits verse 13, which is a prophecy of his own defeat.

124 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
height he had no power to hurl Him whom God kept safe. The
Scripture which he had quoted was true, though he had perverted
it. No amount of temptation can ever necessitate a sin. With every
temptation God provides also " the way to escape" :
" Also, it is written,
' Tempt not the Lord thy God,' He said, and stood :
But Satan, smitten by amazement, fell." "
3. Foiled in his appeal to natural hunger, or to the possibility of
spiritual pride, the tempter appealed to " the last infirmity of noble
minds," and staked all on one splendid cast. He makes up for the
want of subtlety in the form by the apparent magnificence of the
issue. From a high mountain he showed Jesus all the kingdoms of
the world and the glory of them, and as the xoa^oxparcop, the
" prince of this world," he offered them all to Him who had lived as
the village carpenter, in return for one expression of homage, one act
of acknowledgment."
" The kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them ! " " There
are some that will say," says Bishop Andrewes, " that we are never
tempted with kingdoms. It may well be, for it needs not be, when
less will serve. It was Christ only that was thus tempted ; in Him
lay an heroical mind that could not be tempted with small matters.
But with us it is nothing so, for we esteem more basely of ourselves.
We set our wares at a very easy price ; he may buy us even dagger-
cheap. He need never carry us so high as the mount. The pinna
cle is high enough ; yea, the lowest steeple in all the town would
serve the turn. Or let him but carry us to the leads and gutters of
our own houses ; nay, let us but stand in our windows or our doors,
if he will give us so much as we can there see, he will tempt us
thoroughly ; we will accept it, and thank him too  A
matter of half-a-crown, or ten groats, a pair of shoes, or some such
trifle, will bring us on our knees to the devil."
But Christ taught, " What shall it profit a man, if he gain the
whole world, and lose his own soul ? "
1 Par. Reg. iv. 481.
2 See John xii. 31 ; xvi. 2 — 30 ; Eph. ii. 2 (rov dpxovra rift iiovdiai rov
df'po-S90); 2 Cor. iv. 4; Sar ha-Olam, Sanhedr. f. 94. It was doue iv (Sriyiif/
Xpovov 91 (Luke iv. 5), for, as St. Ambrose says, "in momento praetereunt." 9'J
We must bear in mind that the Power of Evil has been disarmed to a very great
extent in the kingdom of Christ. Samael in the Talmud is called " the prince of
the air." The tract Zohar goes so far as to call him intj Sn ei dcheer, " a second
god." (See Gfrorer, Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 402—420.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 125
There was one living who, scarcely in a figure, might be said to
have the whole world. The Roman Emperor Tiberius was at that
moment infinitely the most powerful of living men, the absolute, un
disputed, deified ruler of all that was fairest and richest in the king
doms of the earth. There was no control to his power, no limit to
his wealth, no restraint upon his pleasures. And to yield himself
still more unreservedly to the boundless self -gratification of a volup
tuous luxury, not long after this time he chose for himself a home on
one of the loveliest spots on the earth's surface, under the shadow of
the slumbering volcano, upon an enchanting islet in one of the most
softly delicious climates of the world. What came of it all ? He
was, as Pliny calls him, " tristissimus ut constat hominum," ! " con
fessedly the most gloomy of mankind." And there, from this home
of his hidden infamies, from this island where on a scale so splendid
he had tried the experiment of what happiness can be achieved by
pressing the world's most absolute authority, and the world's guilti
est indulgences, into the service of an exclusively selfish life, he
wrote to his servile and corrupted Senate, " What to write to you,
Conscript Fathers, or how to write, or what not to write, may all
the gods and goddesses destroy me worse than I feel that they are
daily destroying me, if I know." " Rarely has there been vouch
safed to the world a more overwhelming proof that its richest gifts
are but "fairy gold that turns to -dust and dross," and its most
colossal edifices of personal splendor and greatness no more durable
barrier against the encroachment of bitter misery than are the babe's
sandheaps to stay the mighty march of the Atlantic tide.
In such perplexity, in such anguish, does the sinful possession of
all riches and all rule end. Such is the invariable Nemesis of
unbridled lusts. It does not need the snaky tresses or the shaken
torch of the fabled Erinnyes. The guilty conscience is its own
adequate avenger ; and " if the world were one entire and perfect
chrysolite," and that gem ours, it would not console us for one hour
of that inward torment, or compensate in any way for those lacerat
ing pangs.
But he who is an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven is lord
over vaster and more real worlds, infinitely happy because infinitely
1 H. N. xxviii. 5. For Capreae, see Tac. Ann. iv. 61, 62,67.
2 "Quid scribam vobis, Patres Conscripti, aut quomodo scribam, aut quid
omnino non scribam hoc tempore, di me deaeque pejus perdant quam perire me
cotidie sentio si scio. Adeo facinora atque flagitia sua ipsi quoque in supplicium
verterant. Quippe Tiberium non fortuna, non solitudines protegebant quin
torraenta pectoris suasque ipse poenas fateretur." 93 (Tac. Ann. vi. 6.)

126 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
pure. And over that kingdom Satan has no power. It is the king
dom of God ; and since from Satan not even the smallest semblance
of any of his ruinous gifts can be gained except by suffering the
soul to do allegiance to him, the answer to all his temptations is the
answer of Christ, " Get thee behind me, Satan : for it is written,
' Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou
serve.' " 1
Thus was Christ victorious, through that self-renunciation through
which only can victory be won. And the moments of such honest
struggle crowned with victory are the very sweetest and happiest
that the life of man can give. They are full of an elevation and a
delight which can only be described in language borrowed from the
imagery of heaven.
"Then the devil leaveth Him" — St. Luke adds, "till a fitting
opportunity" — "and, behold, angels came and ministered unto
Him." "
1 Deut. vi. 13. This being one of St. Matthew's " cyclic " quotations agrees
mainly with the LXX. [except irpodxvvijdsiS for <pofl?/8?jdfi&nd\. fiovGp, for the
LXX. variations are here, no doubt, altered in the Alex. MS. from the N. T.], and
is not close to the Hebrew ; but his "peculiar" quotations are usually from the
Hebrew, and differ from the LXX. (See Westcott, Introd., p. 211.) It is remark
able that our Lord's three answers are all from Deut. vi. and viii.
2 The reader will be glad to see, in connection with this subject, some of the
remarks of Ullmann, who has studied it more profoundly, and written on it more
beautifully, than any other theologian. " The positive temptations of Jesus," he
says, " were not confined to that particular point of time when they assailed Him
with concentrated force. . . But still more frequently in after life was He
called to endure temptation of the other kind — the temptation of suffering, and
this culminated on two occasions, viz. , in the conflict of Gethsemane, and in that
moment of agony on the cross when He cried, ' My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me t ' " (Sinlessness of Jesus, E. Tr., p. 140.) He had already remarked
(p. 128) that " man is exposed in two ways to the possibility and seductive power
of evil. On the one hand he may be drawn to actual sin by enticements ; and,
on the other hand, he may be turned aside from good by threatened as well as by
inflicted suffering. The former may be termed positive, the latter negative
temptation." " Jesus was tempted in all points — that is, He was tempted in the
only two possfble ways specified above. On the one hand, allurements were pre
sented which, if successful, would have led Him to actual sin- ; and, on the other
hand, He was beset by sufferings which might have turned Him aside from the/
divine path of duty. These temptations, moreover, occurred both on great occa
sions and in minute particulars, under the most varied circumstances, from the
beginning to the end of His earthly course. But in the midst of them all His
spiritual energy and his love to God remained pure and unimpaired " (id. p. 30).
Ewald, in his Die drei Ersten Evangelien, regarding the Temptation from the
point of view of public work, makes the three temptations correspond severally
to the tendencies to (i.) unscrupulousness, (ii.) rash confidence, (iii.) unhallowed
personal ambitions.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 127

CHAPTER X.
THE FIRST APOSTLES.
" Nisi habuisset et in vultu quiddam oculisque sidereum nunquam eum statim
secuti fuissent Apostoli, nee qui ad comprehendendum eum venerant corruis-
sent.94 — Jek. Ep. lxv.
Victorious over that concentrated temptation, safe from the fiery
ordeal, the Saviour left the wilderness and returned to the fords of
Jordan.1 The Synoptical Gospels, which dwell mainly on the ministry in
Galilee, and date its active commencement from the imprisonment of
John, omit all record of the intermediate events, and only mention
our Lord's retirement to Nazareth." It is to the fourth Evangelist
that we owe the beautiful narrative of the days which immediately
ensued upon the temptation. The Judsean ministry is brought by him
1 It is well known that " Bethania " (X, A, B, C, &c), not " Bethabara," is the true
reading of John i. 28 ; it was altered by Origen (who admits that it was the read
ing of nearly all the MSS.) on very insufficient grounds, viz., that no Bethany on
the Jordan was known, and that there was said to be (SsixvvdBai SiXs y ovdi)
a Bethabara, where John was said to have baptized. Origen is, however, sup
ported by Cureton's Syriac. The two names (n^% n1?, " house of passage," and
ny« no_ « house of ship," or ferry-boats) have much the same meaning (see 2 Sam.
xv. 23, Heb.). Mr. Grove thinks that Bethabara may be identical with Beth-barah,
the fords secured by the Ephraimites (Judg. vii. 24), or with Beth-nimrah (Numb.
xxxii. 36). This latter answers to the description, being close to the region round
about Jordan, the Ciccar of the O. T., the oasis of Jericho. In some edd. of the
LXX. this is actually written BrjBafipd (Biol. Diet. i. 204). Mr. Monro ingen
iously suggests that Origen (like his copyists) may have confused Bethabara with
Betharaba (Josh, xviii. 22) which was in the Jordan valley. After careful atten
tion, I see no grounds whatever for agreeing with Caspari (Chron. Geogr. Einl.
277), and others who place this Bethania at Tellanihje, on the upper Jordan, to
the north-east of the Sea of Gennesareth. The reasons for the traditional scene
of the baptism, near Jericho, and therefore within easy reach of Jerusalem, seem
far more convincing. [The Bethany on the Mount of Olives has another deriva
tion ; it was usually derived from T3 n,5 , " house of unripe dates ; " but after
the valuable letter of Dr. Deutsch, published by Mr. W. H. Dixon in his Holy
Land (ii. 217), this conjecture of Lightfoot's must remain at least doubtful.]
2 Matt. iv. 12 (dvEXoi-pridEv, "withdrew"): Mark i. 14; Luke iv. 14.

128 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
into the first prominence.1 He seems to have made a point of relating
nothing of which he had not been a personal witness, and there are
some few indications that he was bound to Jerusalem by peculiar
1 Throughout this book it will be seen that I accept unhesitatingly the genuine
ness of St. John's Gospel. It would be of course impossible, and is no part of my
purpose, to enter fully into the controversy about it ; and it is the more needless,
because in many books of easy access (I may mention, among others, Professor
Westcott's Introd. to the Study of the Gospels, and Hist, of the Canon of the New
Testament, and Mr. Sanday's Authorship of the Fourth GospeV) the main arguments
which seem decisive in favor of its genuineness may be studied by any one. The
other side is powerfully argued by Mr. Tayler in his Fourth Gospel. All that I
need here say (referring especially to what Professor Westcott has written on the
subject), is, that there is external evidence for its authenticity in the allusions to
or traces of the influence of this Gospel in Ignatius and Polycarp ; and later in the
second century, of Justin Martyr, Tatian, Theophilus, &c. Papias does not indeed
mention it, which is » circumstance difficult to account for; but according to
Eusebius (Hist. Ecc. iii. 39), he " made use of testimonies " out of the First Epis
tles, and few will separate the question of the genuineness of the Epistles from
that of the genuineness of the Gospel. ' The very slightness of the Second and
Third Epistles is almost a convincing proof of their authenticity, since no one could
have dreamed of forging them. The early admission of the Fourth Gospel into
the canon both of the East and West, and the acknowledgment of it even by
heretics, are additional arguments in its favor. Dr. Lightfoot also notices the
further fact that" soon after the middle of the second century divergent readings
of a striking kind occur in St. John's Gospel, as for instance, /xovoysviji 6sdS96
and 6 ixovoyEviji vioS"*6 (i. 18), and this leads us to the conclusion "that the
text has already a history, and that the Gospel therefore cannot have been very
recent " (On Revision, p. 20). But if the external evidence, though less decisive
than we could have desired, is' not inadequate, the internal evidence, derived
not only from its entire scope, but also from numberless minute and incidental
particulars, is simply overwhelming ; and the improbabilities involved in the
hypothesis of forgery are so immense, that it is hardly too much to say that we
should have recognized in the Gospel the authorship of St. John, even if it
had come down to us anonymously, or under some other name. The Hebraic
coloring of the style ; the traces of distinctly Judaic training and conceptions
(i. 45 ; iv. 22) ; the naive faithfulness in admitting facts which might seem
to tell most powerfully against the writer's belief (vii. 5) ; the minute topo
graphical and personal allusions and reminiscences (vi. 10, 19, 23 ; x. 22, 23 ; xi.
1, 44, 54 ; xxi. 2) ; the faint traces that the writer had been a disciple of John the
Baptist, whose title he alone omits (i. 15 ; iii. 23, 25) ; the vivid freshness of the
style throughout, as, for instance, in the account of the blind man, and of the
Last Supper — so wholly unlike a philosopheme, and so clearly written adnarran-
dum, not ad probandum (ch. ix., xiii.) ; the preservation of 'the remarkable fact
that Jesus was first tried before Annas (xviii. 13, 19 — 24), and the correction of the
current tradition as to the time of the Last Supper (xiii. 1 ; xviii. 28) ; — these are
but a few of numberless internal evidences which bring additional confirmation
to the conviction inspired by the character and contents of this great Gospel,
They have left no doubt on the minds of many profound and competent scholars,
and no one can easily make light of evidence which has satisfied such a philolo-
gian as Ewald, and, for twelve editions of his book, satisfied even such a critic

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 129
relations.1 By station St. John was a fisherman, and it is not impos
sible that, as the fish of the Lake of Galilee were sent in large quan
tities to Jerusalem, he may have lived there at certain seasons in con
nection with the employment of his father and his brother, who, as the
owners of then own boat and the masters of hired servants, evidently
occupied a position of some importance. Be that as it may, it is St.
John alone who narrates to us the first call of the earliest Apostles,
and he relates it with all the minute particulars and graphic touches
of one on whose heart and memory each incident had been indelibly
impressed. The deputation of the Sanhedrin " (to which we have already
alluded) seems to have taken place the day previous to our Lord's
return from the wilderness ; and when, on the following morning,"
the Baptist saw Jesus approaching, he delivered a public and emphatic
testimony that this was indeed the Messiah who had been marked out
to him by the appointed sign, and that He was " the Lamb of God
that taketh away the sin of the world." Whether the prominent
conception in the Baptist's mind was the Paschal Lamb, or the
Lamb of the morning and evening sacrifice ; whether " the world "
(xocjxos) was the actual expression which he used, or is merely a
Greek rendering of the word " people " (dj?) ; whether he understood
the profound and awful import of his own utterance, or was carried
by prophetic inspiration beyond himself — we cannot tell. But this
much is clear, that since his whole imagery, and indeed the very
description of his own function and position, is, as we have already
seen, borrowed from the Evangelical prophet, he must have used the
expression with distinct reference to the picture of Divine patience
and mediatorial suffering in Isa. liii. 7 (cf. Jer. xi. 19). His words
could hardly have involved less meaning than this — that the gentle
and sinless man to whom he pointed should be a man of sorrows, and
as Renan. It is my sincere belief that the difficulties of accepting the Gospel are
mainly superficial, and that they are infinitely less formidable than those involved
in its rejection. Mr. Sanday has treated the question with great impartiality ;
and in his volume many of the points touched upon in this note are developed
with much force and skill.
1 John xix. 27 ; xviii. 16. Perhaps this explains the fact that James was not
with his brother John as a disciple of the Baptist. Andrew, on finding Christ,
immediately sought out his brother Simon. John could not do so, for his brother
was in Galilee, and was not called till some time subsequently.
2 John i. 19—34. See p. 109.
3 John i. 35—43. The ovx ySsiv avTov™ means that the Baptist did not rec
ognize Jesus as the Messiah, till he had seen (TEBsa/j.ai, ver. 32 ; kaSpaxa, ver.
34) the heavenly sign.
17

130 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
that these sorrows should be for the salvation of His race.1 What
ever else the words may have connoted to the minds of his hearers,
yet they could hardly have thought them over without connecting
Jesus with the conceptions of sinlessness, of suffering, and of a
redeeming work.
Memorable as this testimony was, it seems on the first day to have
produced no immediate result. But on the second day, when the
Baptist was standing accompanied by two of his disciples, Jesus
again walked by, and John, fixing upon Him his intense and earnest
gaze," exclaimed again, as though with involuntary awe and admira
tion, " Behold the Lamb of God ! "
The words were too remarkable to be again neglected, and the
two Galilsean youths who heard them followed the retreating figure
of Jesus. He caught the sound of their timid footsteps, and turning
round to look at them as they came near, He gently asked, " What
seek ye ? "
It was but the very beginning of His ministry : as yet they could
not know Him for all that He was ; * as yet they had not heard the
gracious words that proceeded out of His lips ; in coming to seek Him
thus they might be actuated by inadequate motives, or even by mere
passing curiosity ; it was fit that they should come to Him by spon
taneous impulse, and declare their object of their own free will.
But how deep and full of meaning is that question, and how sternly
it behooves all who come to their Lord to answer it ! One of the
holiest of the Church's saints, St. Bernard, was in the habit of con
stantly warning himself by the solemn query, " Bernarde, ad quid
venisti?" — "Bernard, for what purpose art thou here?" Self-
examination could assume no more searching f orm ; but all the niean-
1 " He felt in the delicacy of Christ's personality all its capability of suffering,
and its suffering destiny." (Lange, ii. 283. Comp. Exod. xii. 5 ; 1 Cor. v. 7 ; 1
Pet. i. 19.) In the Apocalypse (v. 6 ; vii. 9, &c.) dpviov,sa not dfivoS,n is always
used. The attempt of Danz to account for the expression as a mistaken rendering
0f ^kudjj in the sense of "strong hero" (see Hase, Leben Jesu, p. 101) is only
worth noticing as an instance of that fondness for ingenious novelties which is
the bane of German theologians. On the word ai'pGov, " bearing, and carrying
away," " expiating," cf. Exod. xxviii. 30 ; xxxiv. 7 ; Lev. v. 1, &c.
2 iti/SXei/iaS. For other instances of the word, see Matt. xix. 26 ; Luke xx.
17 ; Mark x. 21.
3 Even if, as some suppose, St. John the Evangelist was His first cousin. The
argument for supposing that Salome, the wife of Zebedee, was a sister of the Vir
gin Mary, rises from the comparison of Mark xv. 40 with John xix. 25, where four
women are mentioned ; but John, with his usual delicate reserve, does not men
tion his own mother by name. See sup., p. 99, n. 3.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 131
ing which it involved was concentrated in that quiet and simple
question, " What seek ye ? "
It was more than the two young GafilEeans could answer Him at
once ; it meant more perhaps than they knew or understood, yet the
answer showed that they were in earnest. "Rabbi," they said (and
the title of profound honor and reverence ' showed how deeply His
presence had impressed them), " where art thou staying ? "
Where it was we do not know. Perhaps in one of the temporary
succdth, or booths, covered at the top with the striped abba, which is
in the East an article of ordinary wear, and with their wattled sides
interwoven with green branches of terebinth or palm, which must
have given the only shelter possible to the hundreds who had flocked
to John's baptism. " He saith to them, Come and see." Again, the
words were very simple, though they occur in passages of much sig
nificance." Never, however, did they produce a result more remark
able than now. They came and saw where Jesus dwelt, and as it
was then four in the afternoon,3 stayed there that day, and probably
slept there that night ; and before they lay down to sleep they knew
and felt in then inmost hearts that the kingdom of heaven had come,
that the hopes of long centuries were now fulfilled, that they had
been in the presence of Him who was the desire of all nations, the
Priest greater than Aaron, the Prophet greater than Moses, the King
greater than David, the true Star of Jacob and Sceptre of Israel.
One of those two youths who thus came earliest to Christ was
Andrew.4 The other suppressed his own name because he was the
narrator, the beloved disciple, the Evangelist St. John.6 No wonder
that the smallest details, down even to the very hour of the day, were
1 Among the Jews this title was a sort of degree. One of the myriads of idle
conjectures which have defaced the simple narrative of the Gospels is that Jesus
had taken this degree among the Essenes. It is clear, on the one hand, that He
never sought it ; and on the other, that it was bestowed upon Him even by the
most eminent Pharisees (John iii. 2) out of spontaneous and genuine awe.
2 John xi. 34 ; Cant. iii. 11 ; Rev. vi. 1, 3, 5, 7 ; Ps. lxvi. 5, &c. (see Stier, i. 51).
3 The tenth hour counting from six in the morning ; there is no ground for sup
posing, with Wieseler, that John counts from midnight, instead of adopting the
ordinary Jewish computation (John iv. 6, 52 ; xi. 9; xix. 14). Wieseler seems
even to be mistaken in the belief that the Romans ever counted the hours of their
civil day from midnight. — Mr. Monro refers me to a passage of the Digests in
which hora vi. diei and hora vi. noctis are referred to in the very sentence in which
a lawyer is expounding civil computation in opposition to natural. (Dig. xii., tit.
3, fr. 6, 7.)
4 Hence the Fathers call him 6 icpG0T6xXTjToi.u"
6 This exquisite and consistent reticence is one of the many strong arguments
in favor of the genuineness of the Gospel. If our view be right, he did care

132 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
treasured in his memory, never to be forgotten, even in "extreme
old age.
It was the first care of Andrew to find his brother Simon, and
tell him of this great Eureka.1 He brought him to Jesus, and Jesus
looking earnestly on him with that royal gaze which read intuitively
the inmost thoughts — seeing at a glance in that simple fisherman all
the weakness but also all the splendid greatness of the man — said,
giving him a new name, which was long afterwards yet more solemnly
confirmed, " Thou art Simon, the Son of Jona ; thou shalt be called
Kephas ; " that is, " Thou art Simon, the son of the dove ; hereafter
thou shalt be as the rock in which the dove hides." " It was, indeed,
a play upon the word, but one which was memorably symbolic and
profound. None but the shallow and the ignorant will see, in such
a play upon the name, anything derogatory to the Saviour's dignity.
The essential meaning and augury of names had been in all ages a
belief among the Jews, whose very language was regarded by them
selves as being no less sacred than the oracular gems on Aaron's
breast. Their belief in the mystic potency of sounds, of the tongue
guided by unalterable destiny in the realms of seeming chance, may
seem idle and superstitious to an artificial cultivation, but has been
shared by many of the deepest thinkers in every age.3
How was it that these youths of Galilee, how was it that a John so
fervid yet contemplative, a Peter so impetuous in his affections, yet
so timid in his resolves, were thus brought at once — brought, as it
were, by a single look, by a single word — to the Saviour's feet ?
How came they thus, by one flash of insight or of inspiration, to
about the facts of which he is writing, but did not care that his mere name should
be remembered among men. M. Renan seems at one time to have held that it
was partly written out of jealousy at the primacy popularly ascribed to St. Peter !
lEvpijxausv rov Msddiav 1(>1 (John i. 41). (Pressense, Jesus Christ, p. 294.)
This was indeed a true act of brotherly affection. (See Keble's Hymn on St.
Andrew's Day.) It is strange that no one should have alluded (so far as I have
seen) to the reason why St. John could not then perform for his brother the same
great service. The reason probably is that James was at the time quietly pursu
ing his calling by the Sea of Galilee.
2 Lange, ii. 284. Or possibly, " Thou art a Son of Weakness, but shalt become
a Rock." Unfortunately, however, there is no sufficient authority for giving this
meaning to the word '"U"- (Lilcke, i. 450.)
3 Cf . JEsch. Agam. 665, itpovoioa6i rov XE7tpoo/ue'vov yXaoddav iv rvxa
vifiGov.m (See Origin of Lang., ch. iii.; Chapters on Lang., p. 269—277.) lam
not now referring to such recondite fancies as those involved in the Cabbalistic
modes of interpretation by Gematria, notarikon, atbash, &c, but to something far
more antique and spontaneous, of which, for instance, we find specimens not only
in the tragedians, but even in the stories of Herodotus ix. 91, &c).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 133
recognize, in the carpenter of Nazareth, the Messiah of prophecy, the
Son of God, the Saviour of the world ?
Doubtless, in part by what He said, and by what John the Baptist
had testified concerning Him, but doubtless also in part by His very
look. On this subject, indeed, tradition has varied in a most remark
able manner ; but on a point of so much interest we may briefly
pause. Any one who has studied the representations of Christ in mediaeval
art will have observed that some of them, particularly in missals, are
degradingly and repulsively hideous, while others are conceived in
the softest and loveliest ideal of human beauty.* Whence came
this singular divergence ?
It came from the prophetic passages which were supposed to indi
cate the appearance of the Messiah, as well as His life.
The early Church, accustomed to the exquisite perfection of form
in which the genius of heathen sculpture had clothed its conceptions
of the younger gods of Olympus — aware, too, of the fatal corruptions
of a sensual imagination — seemed to find a pleasure in breaking
loose from' this adoration of personal endowments, and in taking as
their ideal of the bodily aspect of our Lord, Isaiah's picture of a
patient and afflicted sufferer, or David's pathetic description of a
smitten and wasted outcast." His beauty, says Clemens of Alexan
dria, was in His soul and in His actions, but in appearance He was
base. Justin Martyr describes Him as being without beauty, without
glory, without honor. His body, says Origen, was small, and ill-
shapen, and ignoble. " His body," says Tertullian, " had no human
handsomeness, much less any celestial splendor." The heathen
Celsus, as we learn from Origen, even argued from His traditional
meanness and ugliness of aspect as a ground for rejecting His divine
origin.' Nay, this kind of distorted inference went to even greater
extremities. The Vulgate rendering of Isa. liii. 4 is, " Nos putavi-
mus eum quasi leprosum., percussum a Deo et humiliatum ; " 10T and
1 See Lecky, Hist, of Rationalism, i. 257.
5 Isa. Iii. 14 ; liii. 4, " We did esteem him stricken (B*l ; cf. J»JD, Lev. xiii. 13),
smitten of God, and afflicted." Ps. xxii. 6, 7, " I am a worm, and no man 
All they that see me laugh me to scorn ; " 15 — 17, " My strength is dried up like
a potsherd. ... I may tell all my bones they stand staring and looking
upon me."
3 See Keim, i. 460, who quotes Just. Mart. c. Tryph. xiv. 36, &c, deiSrjS,
aSo&f, art/to? ; ">' Clem. Strom, ii. 440, Paed. iii. 1, 3, rijv oipiv atdxpoS ;'04
Tert. De Car. Christ. 9, " Nee humanae honestatis corpus f uit, nedum caelestis
claritatis ; " I05 Orig. c. Cels. vi. 75, rd dmiia ftixpov xai SvdsiSi? xai dysvii
yv.™

134 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
this gave rise to a wide-spread fancy, of which there are many
traces, that He who healed so many leprosies was Himself a leper ! '
Shocked, on the other hand, by these revolting fancies, there were
many who held that Jesus, in His earthly features, reflected the
charm and beauty of David, His great ancestor ; and St. Jerome and
St. Augustine preferred to apply to Him the words of Psalm xiv.
2, 3, " Thou art fairer than the children of men." " It was natural
that, in the absence of positive indications, this view should com
mand a deeper sympathy, and it gave rise both to the current
descriptions of Christ, and also to those ideals, so full of mingled
majesty and tenderness in — " That face
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than beauty's self,"
which we see in the great pictures of Fra Angelico, of Michael
Angelo, of Leonardo da Vinci, of Raphael, and of Titian.3
Independently of all tradition, we may believe with reverent con
viction that there could have been nothing mean or repugnant — that
there must, as St. Jerome says, have been " something starry " — in
the form which enshrined an Eternal Divinity and an Infinite
Holiness. All true beauty is but " the sacrament of goodness," and
a conscience so stainless, a spirit so full of harmony, a life so purely
noble, could not but express itself in the bearing, could not but be
reflected in the face, of the Son of Man. We do not indeed find
any allusion to this charm of aspect, as we do in the description of
the young High-priest Aristobulus whom Herod murdered; but
neither, on the other hand, do we find in the language of His
enemies a single word or allusion which might have been founded
on an unworthy appearance. He of whom John bore witness as the
Christ — He whom the multitude would gladly have seized that He
might be their king — He whom the city saluted with triumphal
' In the Talmud God. Sanhedrin, to the question, " What is the name of the
Messias?" it is answered "The Leper." (Pearson On the Creed, Art. iv.) See
the story of St. Francis in Sir J. Stephen's Essays on Eccles. Biog. i. 99 ; Monta-
lembert, St. Eliz. de Hongrie, ii. 93 — 99 (in both of which stories Christ appears as
a leper). Hence the extraordinary devotion bestowed on this afflicted class by St.
Edmund of Canterbury, St. Louis, St. James de Chantal, &c. In fact, leprosy
came to be regarded as a gift of God. In 1541 Henry, organist of Coblenz, begged
the council of the city to give a place in the hospital to his son. " Somit dem
Us-satz von Gott dem almechtigen begabt." I08 In 1189 Clement III. addressed a
bull " dilectis filiis leprosis." 109
2 Aug. in Ep. Joh., tract, ix. 9.
5 See Excursus IV., " Traditional Descriptions of the Appearance of Our Lord."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 135
shouts as the Son of David — He to whom women ministered with
such deep devotion, and whose aspect, even in the troubled images
of a dream, had inspired a Roman lady with interest and awe — He
whose mere word caused Phifip and Matthew and many others to
leave all and, follow Him — He whose one glance broke into an agony
of repentance the heart of Peter — He before whose presence those
possessed with devils were alternately agitated into frenzy and calmed
into repose, and at whose question, in the very crisis of His weakness
and betrayal, His most savage enemies shrank and fell prostrate in
the moment of their most infuriated wrath1 — such an One as this
could not have been without the personal majesty of a Prophet and
a Priest. All the facts of His life speak convincingly of that
strength, and endurance, and dignity, and electric influence, which
none could have exercised without a large share of human, no less
than of spiritual, gifts. " Certainly," says St. Jerome, " a flame of
fire and starry brightness flashed from His eye, and the majesty of
the Godhead shone in His face."
The third day after the return from the wilderness seems to have
been spent by Jesus in intercourse with His new disciples. On the
fourth day He wished to start " for His return to Galilee, and on the
journey fell in with another young fisherman, Philip of Bethsaida.
Alone of the apostles Philip had a Greek name, derived, perhaps,
from the tetrarch Philip, since the custom of naming children after
reigning princes has always been a common one.3 If so, he must at
this time have been under thirty. Possibly his Greek name indicates
his familiarity with some of the Greek-speaking population who lived
mingled with the Galilseans on the shores of Gennesareth ; and this
may account for the fact, that he, rather than any of the other Apos
tles, was appealed to by the Greeks who, in the last week of His life,
wished to see our Lord. One word — the one pregnant invitation,
"Follow me ! " — was sufficient to attach to Jesus for ever the gentle
and simple-minded Apostle, whom in all probability He had previ
ously known.
The next day a fifth neophyte was added to that sacred and happy

1 John xviii. 6. Cf . Luke iv. 30.
2 In using the phrase rjQiXrjSav i&XBsiv,™ it is evident that St. John had in
his mind some slight circumstance unknown to us.
3 The name Andrew is of Greek origin, but Lightfoot (Harmony, Luke v. 10)
shows that it was in use among the Jews. Thomas was also called by the Greek
name Didymus, or " Twin ; " but we know no name of Philip except this Greek
one. The dito Br/BdaSi'a? probably means " a native of ; " for Greswell's attempt
to distinguish dito from ix in this sense is untenable.

136 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
band. Eager to communicate the rich discovery which he had made,
Philip sought out his friend Nathanael, exercising thereby the divin-
est prerogative of friendship, which consists in the communication to
others of all that we have ourselves experienced to be most divine^
Nathanael, in the list of apostles, is generally, and almost indubita
bly, identified with Bartholomew ; for Bartholomew is less a name
than a designation — "Bar-Tolmai, the son of Tolmai ; " and while
Nathanael is only in one other place mentioned under this name
(John xxi. 2), Bartholomew (of whom, on any other supposition, we
should know nothing whatever) is, in the list of apostles, almost
invariably associated with Philip.1 As his home was at Cana of Gal
ilee, the son of Tolmai might easily have become acquainted with the
young fishermen of Gennesareth. And yet so deep was the retire
ment in which up to this time Jesus had lived His life, that though
Nathanael knew Philip, he knew nothing of Christ. The simple
mind of Phifip seemed to find a pleasure in contrasting the grandeur
of His office with the meanness of His birth: "We have found Him
of whom Moses in the Law, and the Prophets, did write ;" whom
think you? — a young Herodian prince? — a young Asmonsean
priest? — some burning light from the schools of Shammai or Hillel?
— some passionate young Emir from the followers of Judas of Gamala ?
— no, but "Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph."
Nathanael seems to have felt the contrast. He caught at the local
designation. It may be, as legend says, that he was a man of higher
position than the rest of the Apostles." It has been usually consid
ered that his answer was proverbial ; but perhaps it was a passing
allusion to the word nazora, " despicable ;" or it may merely have
implied "Nazareth, that obscure and ill-reputed town in its little
untrodden valley — can anything good come from thence f" The
answer is in the same words which our Lord had addressed to John
and Andrew. Phifip was an apt scholar, and he too 6aid, " Come
and see?''
To-day, too, that question — " Can any good thing come out of
Nazareth f" — is often repeated, and the one sufficient answer —

1 Some make Tolmai a mere abbreviation of Ptolomaeus. On the identity of
Nathanael with Bartholomew, see Ewald, Gesch. Christus, 327. Donaldson (Jashar,
p. 9) thinks that Nathanael was Philip's brother.
"-" Non Petro viii piscatori Bartholomaeus nobilis anteponitur" "' (Jerome, Ep.
ad Eustoch). Hence he is usually represented in mediaeval art clothed in a purple
mantle, adorned with precious stones ; but John xxi. 2 is alone sufficient to inval
idate the tradition.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 137
almost the only possible answer — is now, as it then was, " Come and
see." Then it meant, come and see One who speaks as never man
spake ; come and see One who, though He be but the Carpenter of
Nazareth, yet overawes the souls of all who approach Him — seem
ing by His mere presence to reveal the secrets of all hearts, yet drawing
to Him even the most sinful with a sense of yearning love ; come
and see One from whom there seems to breathe forth the irresistible
charm of a sinless purity, the unapproachable beauty of a Divine life.
" Come and see," said Philip, convinced in his simple faithful heart
that to see Jesus was to know Him, and to know was to love, and to
love was to adore. In this sense, indeed, we can say " come and see "
no longer ; for since the blue heavens closed on the visions which
were vouchsafed to St. Stephen and St. Paul, His earthly form has
been visible no more. But there is another sense, no less powerful
for conviction, in which it still suffices to say, in answer to all doubts,
" Come and see." Come and see a dying world revivified, a decrepit
world regenerated, an aged world rejuvenescent ; come and see the
darkness illuminated, the despair dispelled ; come and see tenderness
brought into the cell of the imprisoned felon, and liberty to the
fettered slave ; come and see the poor, and the ignorant, and the
many, emancipated for ever from the intolerable thraldom of the
rich, the learned, and the few ; come and see hospitals and orphan
ages rising in their permanent mercy beside the crumbling ruins
of colossal amphitheatres which once reeked with human blood;
come and see the obscene symbols of an universal degradation
obliterated indignantly from the purified abodes; come and see
the dens of lust and tyranny transformed into sweet and happy
homes, defiant atheists into believing Christians, rebels into child
ren, and pagans into saints. Ay, come and see the majestic acts of
one great drama continued through nineteen Christian centuries ;
and as you see them all tending to one great development, long
predetermined in the Council of the Divine Will — as you learn
in reverent humility that even apparent Chance is in reality the
daughter of Forethought, as well as, for those who thus recognize her
nature, the sister of Order and Persuasion 1 — as you hear the voice
of your Saviour searching, with the loving accents of a compassion
1[Tvxa] Evvo/j.iai re xai LTeiBovS d$eXq>d xai UpoiiaBtiai Bvydrr^p lla
(Alcman, f. 55, ed. Bergk.). " The threefold offspring of Forethought which is
described in this noble fragment, appears to represent three of the cardinal relations
in which we may regard the working of Providence. It first appears as Chance
in regard to its occurrence ; it next works Persuasion as men bow to its decrees ;
and at last it issues in Order " (Westcott, Charact. of the Gosp. Miracles, p. 35).
18

138 . THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
which will neither strive nor cry, your very reins and heart — it may
be that you too will unlearn the miseiy of doubt, and exclaim in
calm and happy confidence, with the pure and candid Nathanael,
" Rabbi, thou art the Son of Cod, thou art the King of Israel ! "
The fastidious reluctance of Nathanael was very soon dispelled.
Jesus, as He saw him coming, recognized that the seal of God was
upon his forehead, and said of him, " Behold a true Israelite, in whom
guile is not." " Whence dost thou recognize me ? " asked Nathanael ;
and then came that heart-searching answer, "Before that Philip
called thee, whilst thou wert under the fig-tree, I saw thee."
It was the custom of pious Jews — a custom approved by the Tal
mud — to study then crishma, or office of daily prayer, under a fig-
tree ; * and some have imagined that there is something significant
in the fact of the Apostle having been summoned from the shade of
a tree which symbolized Jewish ordinances and Jewish traditions, but
which was beginning already to cumber the ground." But though
something interesting and instructive may often be derived from the
poetic insight of a chastened imagination which can thus observe
allegories which lie involved in the simplest facts, yet no such flash
of sudden perception could alone have accounted for the agitated
intensity of Nathanael' s reply. Every one must have been struck, at
first sight, with the apparent disproportionateness between the cause
and the effect. How apparently inadequate was that quiet allusion
to the lonely session of silent thought under the fig-tree, to produce
the instantaneous adhesion, the henceforth inalienable loyalty, of this
"fusile Apostle" to the Son of God, the King of Israel! But for
the true explanation of this instantaneity of conviction, we must look
deeper ; and then, if I mistake not, we shall see in this incident
another of those indescribable touches of reality which have been to
so many powerful minds the most irresistible internal evidence to
establish the historic truthfulness of the Fourth Gospel.
There are moments when the grace of God stirs sensibly in the
human heart ; when the soul seems to rise upon the eagle-wings of
hope and prayer into the heaven of heavens ; when caught up, as it
were, into God's very presence, we see and hear things unspeakable.

1 Beresh. Rabba, i. 62, quoted by Sepp. The accusative, vito rrjv Gvxrfv,™
where we should have expected the dative, seems to imply that he had purposely
gone there for prayer and meditation. Perhaps some inference as to the time of
year may be drawn from this circumstance.
2 See 1 Kings iv. 25 ; Mic. iv. 4 ; Zech. iii. 10 ; Matt. xxi. 20 ; Luke xiii. 7.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 139
At such moments we live a lifetime ; for emotions such as these
annihilate all time; they —
" Crowd Eternity into an hour,
Or stretch an hour into Eternity."
At such moments we are nearer to God ; we seem to know Him
and be known of Him ; and if it were possible for any man at such
a moment to see into our souls, he would know all that is greatest
and most immortal in our beings. But to see us then is impossible
to man ; it is possible only to Him whose hand should lead, whose
right hand should guide us, even if we could take the wings of the
morning and fly into the uttermost parts of the sea. And such a
crisis of emotion must the guileless Israelite have known as he sat
and prayed and mused in silence under his fig-tree. To the conscious
ness of such a crisis — a crisis which could only be known to One
to whom it was given to read the very secrets of the heart — our Lord
appealed. Let him who has had a similar experience say how he would
regard a living man who could reveal to him that he had at such a
moment looked into and fathomed the emotions of his heart. That
such solitary musings — such penetrating, even in this life, " behind
the vail " — such raptures into the third heaven during which the soul
strives to transcend the limitations of space and time while it com
munes, face to face, with the Eternal and the Unseen — such sudden
kindlings of celestial lightning which seem to have fused all that is
meanest and basest within us in an instant and for ever — that these
supreme crises are among the recorded experiences of the Christian
life, rests upon indisputable evidence of testimony and of fact. And
if any one of my readers has ever known this spasm of divine change
which annihilates the old and in the same moment creates or
re-creates a new-born soul, such a one, at least, will understand the
thrill of electric sympathy, the arrow-point of intense conviction, that
shot that very instant through the heart of Nathanael, and brought
him, as it were, at once upon his knees with the exclamation, "Rabbi,
thou art the Son of Cod, thou art the King of Israel ! "
We scarcely hear of Nathanael again. His seems to have been
one of those calm, retiring, contemplative souls, whose whole sphere
of existence lies not here, but —
" Where, beyond these voices, there is peace."
It was a life of which the world sees nothing, because it was " hid
with Christ in God ; " but of this we may be sure, that never till the
day of his martyrdom, or even during his martyr agonies, did he for-

140 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
get those quiet words which showed that his " Lord had searched him
out and known him, and comprehended his thoughts long before."
Not once, doubtless, but on many and many a future day,1 was the
promise fulfilled for him and for his companions, that, with the eye
of faith, they should " see the heavens opened, and the angels of God
ascending and descending upon the Son of Man." "
1 oipedBs (N, B, L, &c). The promise is obviously spiritual, as the ablest
Fathers saw. A striking passage of Luther's to this effect is quoted in Alford.
The word " hereafter shall ye see," &c. (John i. 51), meant "from this time forth,"
and therefore was a correct translation of an? dpri at the time when our Version
was made. Compare Matt. xxvi. 64, and the petition " that we may hereof 'ter live
a godly, righteous, and sober life " — i. e., not at some future time, but " from this
day forward." The reading, however, is very dubious, and B, L, as well as sev
eral versions, and Origen, &c. , omit it. The !Afirfv is found twenty-five times in
St. John, and always doubled. Cf. Isa. lxv. 16 (where God is called the " God of
IP? ") ; 2 Cor. i. 20 ; Rev. iii. 14. For the Messianic title Son of Man — a title
describing the Messiah as the essential representative of every child in the great
human family of God — see Dan. vii. 13, 14 ; Rev. i. 13, &c.
2 " Son of Man," Ben-adam, may, in its general sense, be applied to any man
(Job xxv. 6 ; Ps. cxliv. 3, &c), but it is applied in a special sense to Ezekiel in the
Old Testament, and to Christ in the New. One very observable fact is, that
though used of Ezekiel nearly ninety times, he does not once apply the title to him
self ; and though used about eighty times of Christ, it is never used by any but
Himself, except in passages which describe His heavenly exaltation (Acts vii.
56 ; Rev. i. 13 — 20 ; xiv. 14). It'seems further clear that though Ezekiel is called
Ben-Adam (perhaps, in the midst of his revelations, to remind him of his own
nothingness, /is)j.v7)do ScvBpGOitoS gov), the title in the New Testament, being
clearly drawn from Daniel (vii. 13), is the Chaldee Bar-endsh, which represents
humanity in its greatest frailty and humility, and is a significant declaration that
the exaltation of Christ in His kingly and judicial office is due to His previous
self-humiliation in His human nature (Phil. ii. 5 — 11). (Bishop Wordsworth s. v.
in Smith's Diet, of Bible, iii. 1359, who quotes Cypr. De Idol. Vanit., p. 588, " homi-
nem induit, quern perducat ad Patrem," "4 and Aug., Serm. 121, " Filius Dei factus
est filius hominis, ut vos, qui eratis filii hominis, efficeremini filii Dei.116 The
term bent ish, found in Ps. iv. 3, &c, means " filii viri," I16 not " filii hominis." !"
Bengel, on this verse (John i. 51), referring to 1 Cor. xv. 47, says, " Unus hie
nempe homo est, quern Adamus, post lapsum, expectavit." U8

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. \±\

CHAPTER XI.
THE FIRST MIRACLE.
" Unde rubor vestris et non sua purpura lymphis ?,
Quae rosa mirantes tarn nova mutat aquas ?
Nnmen, convivae, praesens agnoscite numen :
Lympha pudica Deum vidit et erubuit.'' "9 — Crashaw.
" On the third day," says St. John, " there was a marriage in Cana
of Galilee." Writing with a full knowledge and vivid recollection
of every fact that took place during those divinely-memorable days,
he gives his indications of time as though all were equally familiar
with them. The third day has been understood in different manners :
it is simplest to understand it as the third after the departure of Jesus
for Gafilee. If He were travelling expeditiously He might stop on
the first night (supposing him to follow the ordinary route) at Shiloh
or at Shechem ; on the second at En-Gannim ; on the third, crossing
the plain of Jezreel, He could easily reach Nazareth,1 and finding
that His mother and brethren were not there, might, in an hour and
a half longer, reach Cana in time for the ceremonies of an Oriental
wedding." It is well known that those ceremonies began at twilight. It was
the custom in Palestine, no less than in Greece,
" To bear away
The bride from home at blushing shut of day,"
1 The author has done this himself, and therefore knows that it is easily possible,
although it requires quick travelling. There would, however, be nothing on this
occasion to make Jesus linger, and possibly he was journeying with the express
intention of being present at the marriage feast. The fact that a wedding will
soon take place is usually known throughout an Eastern village, and Jesus might
easily have heard about it from one of His disciples, or from some other Galilaean
pilgrim. 2 It will be seen from this paragraph that I consider Kefr Kenna, and not the
so-called Kfina el-Jalil, to be the real Cana. On this point I entirely agree with
De Saulcy as against Dr. Robinson. If I am right in the explanation of " the
third day," it will be an additional argument in favor of this view. I say " the
so-called KSna el-Jalil," because certainly the more ordinary name of this ruined

142 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
or even later, far on into the night,1 covered from head to foot in
her loose and flowing veil, garlanded with flowers, and dressed in
her fairest robes. She was heralded by torchlight, with songs and
dances, and the music of the drum and flute, to the bridegroom's
home. She was attended by the maidens of her village, and the
bridegroom came to meet her with his youthful friends. Legend
says that Nathanael was on this occasion the paranymph, whose duty
it was to escort the bride ; but the presence of Mary, who must have
left Nazareth on purpose to be present at the wedding, seems to
show that one of the bridal pair was some member of the Holy
Family. Jesus too was invited, and His disciples, and the use of the
singular (sHlr/dr)™) implies that they were invited for His sake,
not He for theirs. It is not likely, therefore, that Nathanael, who
had only heard the name of Jesus two days before, had anything to
do with the marriage. All positive conjecture is idle ; but the fact
that the Virgin evidently took a leading position in the house, and
commands the servants in a tone of authority, renders it not improb
able that this may have been the wedding of one of her nephews,
the sons of Alphseus, or even of one of her daughters, " the sisters
of Jesus," " to whom tradition gives the names Esther and Thamar.
That Joseph himself was dead is evident from the complete silence
of the Evangelists, who after Christ's first visit to Jerusalem as a
boy, make no further mention of his name.3
Whether the marriage festival lasted for seven days, as was usual
and deserted village is Khurbet K6na, and Thomson (The Land and the Book)
could find no trace worth mentioning of the other name, which rests solely on
Robinson's authority ; moreover, the name Kenna el-Jalil is certainly sometimes
given to Kefr Kenna, as Osborne testifies. The philological difficulty is by no
means insuperable ; tradition too, fairly tested, is in favor of Kefr Kenna ; and
its position (far nearer to Nazareth and Capernaum than Khurbet KSna, and lying
on the direct road) is in every respect more in accordance with the indications of
the Gospel narrative than its more remote and desolate rival. Moreover, at Kefr
Kenna there are distinct traces of antiquity, and at the other place there are none.
If in fact it be a mere hallucination to suppose that Khurbet KSna is at all known
under the designation of Kana el-Jalil, more than half of the reasons for identify
ing it with Cana of Galilee at once fall to the ground. Now on this point Mr.
Thomson is far more likely to be right than Dr. Robinson, from his long residence
in Palestine, and great knowledge of Arabic. <
1 When in Palestine I arrived at El Jib about sunset, and found that the fes
tivities of a wedding were just commencing. They lasted till late at night.
2 Matt. xiii. 56. See, however, Luke iv. 22 ; John vi. 42.
3 The notion that the bridegroom was Simon the Canaanite, arises from a com
plete, but not unnatural, error about his name. An improbable tradition followed
by St. Jerome and St. Bonaventura, and adopted by the Mahometans (D'Herbelot
S. v. " Johannes "), represents that the bridegroom was the Evangelist St. John,

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 143
among those who could afford it,1 or only for one or two, as was the
case among the poorer classes, we cannot tell ; but at some period of
the entertainment the wine suddenly ran short." None but those
who know how sacred in the East is the duty of lavish hospitality,
and how passionately the obligation to exercise it to the utmost is
felt, can realize the gloom which this incident would have thrown
over the occasion, or the misery and mortification which it would
have caused to the wedded pair. They would have felt it to be,
as in the East it would still be felt to be, a bitter and indelible
disgrace. Now the presence of Jesus and his five disciples may well have
been the cause of this unexpected deficiency. The invitation, as we
have seen, was originally intended for Jesus alone, nor could the
youthful bridegroom in Cana of Galilee have been in the least aware
that during the last f our days Jesus had won the allegiance of five
disciples. It is probable that no provision had been made for this
increase of numbers, and that it was their unexpected presence which
caused the deficiency in this simple household.3 Moreover, it is
hardly probable that, coming from a hasty journey of ninety miles,
the fittle band could, even had their means permitted it, have conformed
to the common Jewish custom of bringing with them wine and other
provisions to contribute to the mirthfulness of the wedding feast.
Under these circumstances, therefore, there was a special reason
why the mother of Jesus should say to Him, " They have no wine."
The remark was evidently a pointed one, and its import could not be
misunderstood. None knew, as Mary knew, who her son was ; yet
for thirty long years of patient waiting for this manifestation, she
had but seen him grow as other children grow, and live, in sweetness
indeed and humility and grace of sinless wisdom, like a tender plant
before God, but in all other respects as other youths have lived, pre
eminent only in utter stainlessness. But now he was thirty years
old ; the voice of the great Prophet, with whose fame the nation rang,
had proclaimed Him to be the promised Christ; He was being
publicly attended by disciples who acknowledged Him as Rabbi and
Lord. Here was a difficulty to be met ; an act of true kindness to
be performed ; a disgrace to be averted from friends whom he loved
— and that too a disgrace to which His own presence and that of His
disciples had unwittingly contributed. Was not His hour yet come ?
1 Judg. xiv. 12 ; Tob. xi. 19.
2 John ii. 3, vdrEprfddvroS ozvov.™1
' In some MSS. of the Vetus Itala are added the words " Et factum est per
multam turbam vocatorum vinum consummari." 122

144 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Who could tell what He might do, if He were only made aware
of the trouble which threatened to interrupt the feast? Might
not some band of hymnmg angels, fike the radiant visions, who had
heralded His birth, receive His bidding to change that humble
marriage-feast into a scene of heaven ? Might it not be that even
now He would lead them into His banquet-house, and His banner
over them be love ?
Her faith was strong, her motives pure, except perhaps what has
been called "the slightest possible touch of the purest womanly,
motherly anxiety (we know no other word) prompting in her the
desire to see her Son honored in her presence." ' And her Son's
hour had nearly come: but it was necessary now, at once, for
ever, for that Son to show to her that henceforth he was not Jesus
the Son of Mary, but the Christ the Son of God ; that as regarded
His great work and mission, as regarded His Eternal Being, the
significance of the beautiful relationship had passed away ; that His
thoughts were not as her thoughts, neither His ways her ways." It
could not have been done in a manner more decisive, yet at the same
time more entirely tender.
" Woman, what have I to do with thee ? " The words at first
sound harsh, and almost repellant in their roughness and brevity ;
but that is the fault partly of our version, partly of our associations.
He does not call her " mother," because, in circumstances such as
these, she was His mother no longer ; but the address " Woman "
(rvvai) was so respectful that it might be, and was, addressed to
the queenliest ; 3 and so gentle that it might be, and was, addressed at
1 Stier, i. 61, E. Tr. The germ of the remark is to be found in Chrysos-
tom. .
2 Similarly in Luke ii. 49, the authority of Joseph is wholly subordinated to a
truer and loftier one (see p. 83). The same truth is distinctly shadowed forth in
Matt. xii. 48 — 50 ; Luke xi. 27, 28. St. Bernard, in illustration of this desire of
our Lord to indicate that the spiritual life must not be disturbed by earthly re
lationships, tells a striking story of a, hermit who, on being consulted by his
brother, referred him to the advice of another brother who had died some time
before. " But he is dead," said the other with surprise. " So am I also," replied
the hermit. (S. Bernard, Serm. 2 in Dom. 1 post Epiphan.) It may have been
their inability to appreciate this very fact that produced a sort of alienation be
tween Christ and His earthly brethren as regards the entire plan of His Messianic
manifestation, and made Him imply that even " in His own house " a prophet is
without honor (Matt. xiii. 57).
3 As by the Emperor Augustus to Cleopatra, QdpdEi, go yvvai, xai Bvuov
exe dyaBov I23 (Dio Cass. Hist. Ii. 12) ; by the chorus to Queen Clytemnestra
(iEsch. Ag. 1603) ; and not unfrequently to princesses in Greek tragedy.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 145
the tenderest moments to the most fondly loved.1 And " what have
I to do with thee ? " is a literal version of a common Aramaic phrase
(mah li veldk), which, while it sets aside a suggestion and waives all
further discussion of it, is yet perfectly consistent with the most deli
cate courtesy, and the most feeling consideration."
Nor can we doubt that even the slight check involved in these
quiet words was still more softened by the look and accent with which
they were spoken, and which are often sufficient to prevent far harsher
utterances from inflicting any pain. For with undiminished faith,
and with no trace of pained feeling, Mary said to the servants — over
whom it is clear she was exercising some authority — "Whatever He
says to you, do it at once." 3
The first necessity after a journey in the East is to wash the feet,
and before a meal to wash the hands ; and to supply these wants
there were standing (as still is usual), near the entrance of the house,
six large stone water-jars, with their orifices filled with bunches of
fresh green leaves to keep the water cool. Each of these jars con
tained two or three baths 4 of water, and Jesus bade the servants at
once fill them to the brim.6 They did so, and He then ordered them
to draw out the contents in smaller vessels," and carry it to the guest
who, according to the festive custom of the time, had been elected
1 As, for instance, by Jesus to Mary Magdalene, in the garden, " W6rtlari,- why
weepest thou? whom seekest thou?" (John xx. 15) ; by the angels (id. 13) ; and
by Jesus to his mother on the cross, " Woman, behold thy son " (John xix. 26).
Our Lord probably spoke, however, in Aramaic and here the word would be nriJX,
not PIE^K, i- e., more like domina than femina.
¦ See for other instances of the phrase, 2 Sam. xvi. 10 ; xix. 22 ; 1 Kings xvii.
18; Judg. xi. 12; 2 Kings iii. 13; Josh. xxii. 24.
3 noiijdaTE (John ii. 5). For the expression, " Mine hour is not yet come," see
the instance in which, with a very similar desire to check the unwarranted sug
gestions of His earthly relatives, He uses it to His brethren who wished to hurry
His visit to Jerusalem (John vii. 6, where, however, the word is xaipds, not <3pa).
Mr. Sanday compares the passage with Matt. xv. 21 — 28. " There too a petition
is first refused, and then granted, and there too the petitioner seems to divine that
it will be" (Authorship of the Fourth Gosp., p. 50).
1 IxETprjrai. This is used in the LXX. version of 2 Chron. iv. 5 as a render
ing of the Hebrew n3, and was equal to about 7-J- gallons. It is, however, hard to
suppose that each of these stone jars held from fifteen to twenty-two gallons, so
that perhaps ij.et prirrfi (as Lange suggests) may be the Roman amphora = five
gallons. A " firkin " (E. V.) is eight gallons.
5 John ii. 7, ye/ni6ar£.
6 dvrXijdaTB. Cf. John iv. 7. Prof. Westcott thinks that the exact words
exclude the all but universal notion, that all the water in the six jars was turned
into wine (Gharacteristics of the Gospel Miracles, p. 15).
19

146 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
"governor of the feast."1 Knowing nothing of what had taken
place, he mirthfully observed that in offering the good wine last, the
bridegroom had violated the common practice of banquets. This
was Christ's first miracle, and thus, with a definite and symbolic pur
pose," did He manifest His glory, and His disciples believed on Him.
It was His first miracle, yet how unlike all that we should have
expected ; how simply unobtrusive, how divinely calm ! The method,
indeed, of the miracle — which is far more wonderful in character
than the ordinary miracles of healing — transcends our powers of
conception ; yet it was not done with any pomp of circumstance, or
blaze of adventitious glorification. Men in these days have presumpt
uously talked as though it were God's duty — the duty of Him to
whom the sea and the mountains are a very little thing, and before
whose eyes the starry heaven is but as one white gleam in the
" intense inane " — to perform His miracles before a circle of compe
tent savans ! Conceivably it might be so had it been intended that
miracles should be the sole, or even the main, credentials of Christ's
authority ; but to the belief of Christendom the Son of God would
still be the Son of God even if, like John, He had done no miracle.
The miracles of Christ were miracles addressed, not to a cold and
sceptic curiosity, but to a loving and humble faith. They needed not
the acuteness of the impostor, or the self-assertion of the thaumaturge.
They were indeed the signs — almost, we had said, the accidental
signs — of His divine mission ; but their primary object was the alle
viation of human suffering, or the illustration of sacred truths, or, as
in this instance, the increase of innocent joy. An obscure village,
an ordinary wedding, a humble home, a few faithful peasant guests
— such a scene, and no splendid amphitheatre or stately audience,
beheld one of Christ's greatest miracles of power. And in these
respects the circumstances of the First Miracle are exactly analo
gous to the supernatural events recorded of Christ's birth. In the
total unlikeness of this to all that we should have imagined — in its
absolute contrast with anything which legend would have invented
— in all, in short, which most offends the unbeliever, we see
1 The custom may have been originally borrowed from the Greeks (dv/xitodidp^
Xr/i, arbiter bibendi, magister convivii,ni &c), but it had long been familiar to the
Jews, and the apxirpixXivoS1" here acts exactly as he is advised to do by the
son of Sirach : " When thou hast done all thy office, take thy place, that thou
mayest be merry with them, and receive a crown for thy well-ordering of the
feast " (Ecclus. xxxii. 1, 2).
2 John ii. 11, ravrrjv iitoir)dE dpxrjv (this as a beginning, A, B, L, &c), not
ir)v d.pxijv.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 147
but fresh confirmation that we are reading the words of soberness and
truth. A miracle is a miracle, and we see no possible advantage in trying
to understand the means by which it was wrought. In acceptmg the
evidence for it — and it is for each man to be fully persuaded in his
own mind, and to accept or to reject at his pleasure, perhaps even
it may prove to be at his peril — we are avowedly acceptmg the evi
dence for something which transcends, though it by no means neces
sarily supersedes, the ordinary laws by which Nature works. What
is gained — in what single respect does the miracle become, so to
speak, easier or more comprehensible — by supposing, with Olshausen,
that we have here only an accelerated process of nature ; or with
Neander (apparently), that the water was magnetized ; or with Lange
(apparently), that the guests were in a state of supernatural exalta
tion ? l Let those who find it intellectually possible, or spiritually
advantageous, freely avail themselves of such hypotheses if they see
their way to do so : to us they seem, not " irreverent," not " ration
alistic," not " dangerous," but simply embarrassing and needless. To
denounce them as unfaithful concessions to the spirit of scepticism
may suit the exigencies of a violent and Pharisaic theology, but is
unworthy of that calm charity which should be the fairest fruit of
Christian faith. In matters of faith it ought to be to every one of
us " a very small thing to be judged of you or of man's judgment ; "
we ought to believe, or disbelieve, or modify belief, with sole refer
ence to that which, in our hearts and consciences, we feel to be the
Will of God ; and it is by His judgment, and by His alone, that we
should care to stand or to fall. We as little claim a right to scathe
the rejector of miracles by abuse and anathema, as we admit his right
to sneer at us for imbecility or hypocrisy. Jesus has taught to all
men, whether they accept or reject Him, the lessons of charity and
sweetness; and what the believer and unbeliever alike can do, is
1 Olshausen, Comment, on the Gospels, iii. 368, following Augustine, " Ipse fecit
vinum in nuptiis qui omni anno hoc facit in vitibus." 128 Neander, Life of Jesus
Christ, E. Tr., p. 176. It is to be regretted that this " acceleration " hypothesis
has been received with favor by some eminent English divines ; Nature alone, as
a friend remarks, will never, whatever time you give her, make thirty imperial
gallons of wine without at least ten pounds avoirdupois of carbon. Ewald beau
tifully, but with a perhaps intentional vagueness, says, " Wir wilrden uns diesen
wein der seit jener zeit auch uns noch immer fliessen kann, selbst libel verwas-
sern, wenn wir hier in groben sinne fragen wollten wiedenn aus blossem wasser
im augehblicke wein werden konne : soil denn das wasser im besten sinne des
wortes nicht iiberall auch jezt noch zu weine werden wo Sein geist in voller kraft
fchstig 1st?" »' (Gesch. Christ, p. 329).

148 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
calmly, temperately, justly, and with perfect and solemn sincerity —
knowing how deep are the feelings involved, and how vast the issues
at stake between us — to state the reason for the belief that is in
him. And this being so, I would say that if we once understand
that the word Nature has little or no meaning unless it be made to
include the idea of its Author ; if we once realize the fact, which all
science teaches us, that the very simplest and most elementary oper
ation of the laws of Nature is infinitely beyond the comprehension
of our most exalted intelligence ; if we once believe that the Divine
Providence of God is no far-off abstraction, but a living and loving
care over the lives of man ; lastly, if we once believe that Christ was
the only-begotten Son of God, the Word of God who came to reveal
and declare His Father to mankind, then there is nothing in any
Gospel miracle to shock our faith : we shall regard the miracles of
Christ as resulting from the fact of His Being and His mission, no
less naturally and inevitably than the rays of light stream outwards
from the sun. They were, to use the favorite expression of St. John,
not merely " portents " (repata), or powers (dvvdfj.su), or signs
(arjjxsia), but they were works (i'pya), the ordinary and inevitable
works (whenever He chose to exercise them) of One whose very
Existence was the highest miracle of all.1 For our faith is that He
was sinless ; and to borrow the words of a German poet, " one might
have thought that the miracle of miracles was to have created the
world such as it is ; yet it is a far greater miracle to have lived a per
fectly pure life therein." The greatest of modern philosophers said
that there were two things which overwhelmed his soul with awe and
astonishment, " the starry heaven above, and the moral law within ; "
but to these has been added a third reality no less majestic — the ful
filment of the moral law without us in the Person of Jesus Christ."
That fulfilment makes us believe that He was indeed Divine ; and
if He were Divine, we have no further astonishment left when we
are taught that He did on earth that which can be done by the
Power of God alone.
But there are two characteristics of this first miracle which we
ought to notice.
One is its divine unselfishness. His ministry is to be a ministry
of joy and peace; His sanction is to be given not to a crushing
asceticism, but to a genial innocence ; His approval, not to a .com
pulsory celibacy, but to a sacred union. He who, to appease His
1 See Abp. Trench on Miracles, p. 8.
2 See Ullmann, Sinlessness of Jesus, E. Tr. pp. 181—193.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 149
own sore hunger, would not turn the stones of the wilderness into
bread, gladly exercises, for the sake of others, His transforming
power ; and but six or seven days afterwards, relieves the perplexity
and sorrow of a humble wedding feast by turning water into wine.
The first miracle of Moses was, in stern retribution, to turn the river
of a guilty nation into blood ; the first of Jesus to fill the water-jars
of an innocent family with wine.
And the other is its symbolical character. Like nearly all the
miracles of Christ, it combines the characteristics of a work of
mercy, an emblem, and a prophecy. The world gives its best first,
and afterwards all the dregs and bitterness ; but Christ came to turn
the lower into the richer and sweeter, the Mosaic law into the perfect
law of liberty, the baptism of John into the baptism with the Holy
Ghost and with fire, the self-denials of a painful isolation into the
self-denials of a happy home, sorrow and sighing into hope and
blessing, and water into wine. And thus the " holy estate " which
Christ adorned and beautified with His presence and first miracle in
Cana of Galilee, foreshadows the mystical union between Christ and
His Church ; and the common element which He thus miraculously
changed becomes a type of our life on earth transfigured and
ennobled by the anticipated joys of heaven — a type of that wine
which He shall drink new with us in the kingdom of God, at the
marriage supper of the Lamb.1
1 A large school of English Apologists have appealed to the miracles of Christ
as proving His mission, and to the Gospels as proving the miracles. This is not
the view of the writer, who, in common he believes with many of the more
recent authorities who have dealt with the subject, regards " Christianity and
Christendom " as the strongest external proofs of the historical reality of that
which the Gospels relate. The Gospels supply us with a vera caussa for that
which otherwise would be to us an inexplicable enigma. This was the argument
which I endeavored to state as forcibly as I could in the Hulsean Lectures of
1870 — "The Witness of History to Christ." But I say " the strongest external
proof," because those who are so ready to assume that any one who believes, for
instance, in the Incarnation must necessarily be either morally a hypocrite, or
intellectually an imbecile, ought not to forget how strong is that preparation for
belief which every Christian derives from the experiences of his own life, and
from that which he believes to be the Voice of God speaking to his heart, and
confirming all which he has learnt of God through Christ, and Christ alone. The
force of this evidence is indeed valueless as an argument against others ; on the
other hand, they should bear in mind that their denial of its force in their own
case does not invalidate its force-in the minds of those for whom it exists.

150 THE LIFE OF CHRIST

CHAPTER XII.
THE SCENE OE THE MINISTRY.
" Give true hearts but earth and sky,
And some flowers to bloom and die ;
Homely scenes and simple views
Lowly thoughts may best infuse."
Keble, " First Sunday after Epiphany."
Chbist's first miracle of Cana was a sign that He came, not to call
His disciples out of the world and its ordinary duties, but to make
men happier, nobler, better in the world. He willed that they
should be husbands, and fathers, and citizens, not eremites or monks.
He would show that He approved the brightness of pure society, and
the mirth of innocent gatherings, no less than the ecstasies of the
ascetic in the wilderness, or the visions of the mystic in his solitary
cell. And, as pointing the same moral, there was something significant
in the place which he chose as the scene of His earliest ministry. St.
John had preached in the lonely wastes by the Dead Sea waters ; his
voice has been echoed back by the flinty precipices that frown over
the sultry Gh6r. The city nearest to the scene of his teaching had been
built in defiance of a curse, and the road to it led through " the bloody
way." All around him breathed the dreadful associations of a guilty
and desolated past ; the very waves were bituminous ; the very fruits
crumbled into foul ashes under the touch ; the very dust beneath his
feet lay, hot and white, over the relics of an abominable race. There,
beside those leaden waters, under that copper heaven, amid those
burning wildernesses and scarred ravines, had he preached the baptism
of repentance. But Christ, amid the joyous band of His mother,
and His brethren, and His disciples, chose as the earliest centre of
His ministry a bright and busy city, whose marble buildings were
mirrored in a limpid sea.
That little city was Capernaum. It rose under the gentle declivi
ties of hills that encircled an earthly Paradise.1 There were no such
¦John ii. 12, xars/3?? 128 — a touch of accuracy, since the road is one long
descent.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 151
trees, and no such gardens, anywhere in Palestine as in the land of
Gennesareth. The very name means "garden of abundance,"1
and the numberless flowers blossom over a little plain which is " in
sight like unto an emerald." It was doubtless a part of Christ's
divine plan that His ministry should begin amid scenes so beautiful,
and that the good tidings, which revealed to mankind their loftiest
hopes and purest pleasures, should be first proclaimed in a region of
unusual loveliness. The features of the scene are neither gorgeous
nor colossal ; there is nothing here of the mountain gloom or the
mountain glory ; nothing of that "dread magnificence" which over
awes us as we gaze on the icy precipices of tropical volcanoes, or the
icy precipices of northern hills. Had our life on earth been full of
wild and terrible catastrophes, then it might have been fitly symbol
ized by scenes which told only of deluge and conflagration; but
these green pastures and still waters, these bright birds and flowering
oleanders, the dimpling surface of that inland sea, so doubly delicious
and refreshful in a sultry land, all correspond with the characteristics
of a life composed of innocent and simple elements, and brightened
with the ordinary pleasures which, like the rain and the sunshine, are
granted to all alike.
What the traveller will see, as he emerges from the Valley of
Doves, and catches his first eager glimpse of Gennesareth, will be a
small inland sea, like a harp in shape," thirteen miles long and six
broad. On the farther or eastern side runs a green strip about a quar
ter of a mile in breadth,3 beyond which rises, to the height of some
900 feet above the level of the lake, an escarpment of desolate hills,
scored with grey ravines, without tree, or village, or vestige of culti
vation — the frequent scene of our Lord's retirement when, after His
weary labors, He sought the deep refreshment of solitude with God.
The lake — with its glittering crystal, and fringe of flowering olean
ders, through whose green leaves shine the bright blue wings of the
roller-bird, and the king-fishers may be seen in multitudes dashing
down at the fish that glance beneath them — lies at the bottom of a
great dent or basin in the earth's surface, more than 500 feet below
1 " Quare vocatur Gennezar? ob hortos principum (ganne sarim)" 129 (Lightfoot,
Gent. Chorogr. Ixxix.).
2 This is said to be the origin of the ancient name " Chinnereth," a beautiful
onomatopoeia for a harp. The Wady Hammftm, or " Valley of Doves," is a beau
tiful gorge in the hills by which the traveller may descend from Hattin to Mejdel.
3 Except at one spot, the probable scene of the cure of the Gadarene demoniacs
where the hills run close up to the water.

152

THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

the level of the Mediten-anean.1 Hence the burning and enervating
heat of the valley ; but hence, too, the variety of its foliage, the fer
tility of its soil, the luxuriance of its flora, the abundant harvests that
ripen a month earlier than they do elsewhere, and the number of riv
ulets that tumble down the hill-sides into the lake. The shores are
now deserted. With the exception of the small and decaying town
of Tiberias — crumbling into the last stage of decrepitude — and the
"frightful village" of Mejdel (the ancient Magdala), where the deg
radation of the inhabitants is best shown by the fact that the children
play stark naked in the street — there is not a single inhabited spot
on its once crowded shores." One miserable, crazy boat — and that
not always procurable — has replaced its gay and numerous fleet.
As the fish are still abundant, no fact could show more clearly the
dejected inanity and apathetic enervation of the present dwellers upon
its shores. But the natural features still remain. The lake still lies
unchanged in the bosom of the hills, reflecting every varying gleam
of the atmosphere like an opal set in emeralds ; the waters are still
as beautiful in their clearness as when the boat of Peter lay rocking
on their ripples, and Jesus gazed into their crystal depths ; the cup
like basin still seems to overflow with its flood of sunlight ; the air is
still balmy with natural perfumes ; the turtle-dove still murmurs in
the valleys, and the pelican fishes in the waves ; and there are palms,
and green fields, and streams, and grey heaps of ruin. And what it
has lost in population and activity, it has gained in solemnity and
interest. If every vestige of human habitation should disappear from
beside it, and the jackal and the hyena should howl about the shat
tered fragments of the synagogues where once Christ taught, yet the
fact that He chose it as the scene of His opening ministry 3 will give
a sense of sacredness and pathos to its lonely waters till time shall be
no more.
Yet widely different must have been its general aspect in the time
of Christ, and far more strikingly beautiful, because far more richly
1 Hence the plain of Gennesareth is called by the Arabs El-Ghuweir, or " the
little hollow," to distinguish it from El-GhQr, " the great hollow," i. e. the Jordan
valley. >
* A few Bedawin may sometimes be found at Ain et-TSbijah (Bethsaida). Renan
truly observes that a furnace such as El Ghuweir now is, could hardly have been
the scene of such prodigious activity, had not the climate been modified by the
numberless trees, which under the withering influence of Islam have all been
destroyed. 3 Acts x. 37 : St. Peter says, " That word which was preached throughout all
Judaea, and began from Galilee." Luke xxiii. 5 : " Beginning from Galilee."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 153
cultivated. Josephus, in a passage of glowing admiration, after
describing the sweetuess of its waters, and the delicate temperature
of its air, its palms, and vines, and oranges, and figs, and almonds,
and pomegranates, and warm springs, says that the seasons seemed
to compete for the honor of its possession, and Nature to have created
it as a kind of emulative challenge, wherein she had gathered all the
elements of her strength.1 The Talmudists see in the fact that this
plain — "the ambition of Nature" — belonged to the tribe of Naph-
tali, a fulfilment of the Mosaic blessing, that that tribe should be
" satisfied with favor, and full with the blessing of the Lord ; " " and
they had the proverb, true in a deeper sense than they suppose, that
" God had created seven seas in the land of Canaan, but one only —
the Sea of Galilee — had he chosen for Himself."
Not, however, for its beauty only, but because of its centrality, and
its populous activity, it was admirably adapted for that ministry which
fulfilled the old prophecy of Isaiah, that " the land of Zebulun and
the land of Naphtali, beyond Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles," should
" see a great light ; " and that to them " who sat in the region and
shadow of death " should " light spring up." For Christ was to be,
even in His own lifetime, " a light to lighten the Gentiles," as well
as " the glory of His people Israel." And people of many nation
alities dwelt in and encompassed this neighborhood, because it was
" the way of the sea." " The cities," says Josephus, " lie here very
thick ; and the very numerous villages are so full of people, because
of the fertility of the land .... that the very smallest of them
contain above 15,000 inhabitants." 3 He. adds that the people were
active, industrious, and inured to war from infancy, cultivating every
acre of their rich and beautiful soil. No less than four roads com
municated with the shores of the lake. One led down the Jordan
valley on the western side ; another, crossing a bridge at the south
of the lake, passed through Persea to the fords of Jordan near Jeri
cho ; a third led, through Sepphoris, the gay and rising capital of
Galilee, to the famous port of Accho on the Mediterranean Sea ; a
fourth ran over the mountains of Zebulon to Nazareth, and so through
the plain of Esdraelon to Samaria and Jerusalem. Through this dis
trict passed the great caravans on their way from Egypt to Damascus ;
and the heathens who congregated at Bethsaida Julias and Csesarea
1 The Rabbis refer to its extraordinary fruitfulness. (Bab. Pesachim, f . 8, 2 ;
Berachoth, f. 44, 1 ; Lightfoot, ubi supr. ; Caspari, p. 69, &c.) cpiXoriuiav dv ni
Eiitoi riji cpvdEGoi 13° (Jos. B. Jud. iii. 10, §§ 7, 8).
2 Deut. xxxiii. 23.
3 Jos. B. J. iii. 3, § 2. See note 1, p. 156.
20

154 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Philippi must have been constantly seen in the streets of Capernaum.
In the time of Christ it was for population and activity " the manu
facturing district" of Palestine, and the waters of its lake were
ploughed by 4,000 vessels of every description, from the war vessel
of the Romans to the rough fisher-boats of Bethsaida, and the gilded
pinnaces from Herod's palace. Itursea, Samaria, Syria, Phoenicia
were immediately accessible by crossing the lake, the river, or the
hills. The town of Tiberias, which Herod Antipas had built to be
the capital of Galilee, and named in honor of the reigning emperor,
had risen with marvellous rapidity ; by the time that St. John wrote
his Gospel it had already given its name to the Sea of Gafilee ; and
even if Christ never entered its heathenish amphitheatre or grave-
polluted streets,1 He must have often seen in the distance its turreted
walls, its strong castle, and the Golden House of Antipas, flinging
far into the lake the reflection of its marble lions and sculptured
architraves." Europe, Asia, and Africa had contributed to its popu
lation, and men of all nations met in its market-place. All along the
western shores of Gennesareth Jews and Gentiles were strangely
mingled, and the wild Arabs of the desert might there be seen side
by side with enterprising Phoenicians, effeminate Syrians, contempt
uous Romans, and supple, wily, corrupted Greeks.
The days of delightful seclusion in the happy valley of Nazareth
were past ; a life of incessant toil, of deep anxiety, of trouble, and
wandering, and opposition, of preaching, healing, and doing good,
was now to begin. At this earliest dawn of His public entrance upon
His ministry, our Lord's first stay in Capernaum was not for many
days ; yet these days would be a type of all the remaining life. He
would preach in a Jewish synagogue built by a Roman centurion,
and His works of love would become known to men of many nation
alities.3 It would be clear to all that the new Prophet who had
arisen was wholly unlike His great forerunner. The hairy mantle,
' Being built on the site of an old cemetery, no true Jew could enter it with
out ceremonial pollution (see Lightfoot, Cent. Chorogr.,\xxxi.). Josephus (Antt.
xviii. 2, § 3) expressly says that, from the number of tombs which had to be
removed in laying the foundations, every Jew who inhabited it became unclean
(Numb. xix. 11) ; and hence Herod Antipas, who built it (B. J. ii. 9, § 1), had to
compel people to reside in it, or to bribe them by very substantial privileges (Antt.
xviii. 2, § 3). It is probable that Christ never set foot within its precincts ; yet
some of the inhabitants were, of course, among His hearers (John vi. 23).
2 Jos. Vit. 9, 12, 13 ; B. Jud. ii. 21, § 6.
8 That some great works were performed during this brief visit seems clear
from Luke iv. 23 ; but that they could scarcely be regarded as miracles seems
equally clear from John iv. 54.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 155
the ascetic seclusion, the unshorn locks, would have been impossible
and out of place among the inhabitants of those crowded and busy
shores. Christ came not to revolutionize, but to ennoble and to
sanctify. He came to reveal that the Eternal was not the Future,
but only the Unseen ; that Eternity was no ocean whither men were
being swept by the river of Time, but was around them now, and
that their lives were only real in so far as they felt its reality and its
presence. He came to teach that God was no dim abstraction, infi
nitely separated from them in the far-off blue, but that He was the
Father in whom they lived, and moved, and had their being ; and
that the service which he loved was not ritual and sacrifice, not
pompous scrupulosity and censorious orthodoxy, but mercy and jus
tice, humility and love. He came, not to hush the natural music of
men's fives, nor to fill it with storm and agitation, but to re-tune every
silver chord in that " harp of a thousand strings," and to make it echo
with the harmonies of heaven.
And such being the significance of Christ's life in this lovely region,
it is strange that the exact size of Capernaum — of Capernaum,
" His own city " (Matt. ix. 1), which witnessed so many of His mightiest
miracles, which heard so many of His greatest revelations — should
remain to this day a matter of uncertainty. That it was indeed either
at Khan Minyeh or at Tell Hum is reasonably certain ; but at which ?
Both towns are in the immediate vicinity of Bethsaida and of Chorazin ;
both are beside the waves of Galilee ; both lie on the " way of the
sea ; " the claims of both are supported by powerful arguments ; the
decision in favor of either involves difficulties as yet unsolved. After
visiting the scenes, and carefully studying on the spot the arguments
of travellers in many volumes, the preponderance of evidence seems
to me in favor of Tell Hum. There, on bold rising ground, encum
bered with fragments of white marble, rise the ruined walls of what
was perhaps a synagogue, built in the florid and composite style
which marks the Herodian age ; and amid the rank grass and gigan
tic thistles lie scattered the remnants of pillars and architraves which
prove that on this spot once stood a beautiful and prosperous town.1
At Khan Minyeh there is nothing but a common ruined caravansery
1 Major Wilson, R. E., of the Palestine Exploration Fund, found that the plan
of the large white building at Tell Hflm consisted of " four row3 of seven columns
each . . surrounded by a blank wall, ornamented outside with pilasters, and
apparently a heavy cornice of late date ; . . but what puzzles me is that the
entrance was on the south side, which does not seem to be usual in synagogues.
The synagogue was surrounded by another building of later date, also well built
and ornamented " (see Perter's Handbook, ii. 403).

156 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
and grey mounded heaps, which may or may not be the ruins of
ruins. But whichever of the two was the site on which stood the
home of Peter — which was also the home of Christ (Matt. viii. 14)
— either is desolate ; even the wandering Bedawy seems to shun those
ancient ruins, where the fox and the jackal prowl at night. The sad
and solemn woe that was uttered upon the then bright and flourish
ing city has been fulfilled : " And thou, Capernaum, which art
exalted to heaven, shalt be thrust down to hell : for if the mighty
works, which have been done in thee, had been done in Sodom, it
had remained unto this day." ¦
1 Luke x. 15 ; Matt. xi. 23. — The arguments about the site of Capernaum would
fill several volumes. The reader may find most of them in Dr. Robinson's Bibl.
Researches, iii. 288 — 294 ; Wilson, Lands of the Bible, ii. 139 — 149 ; Ritter, Jordan,
335 — 343 ; Thomson, The Land and the Book, 352 seqq.,&c. Some new arguments
are adduced in Mr. McGregor's Rob Roy on the Jordan. The recent researches of
the Palestine Exploration Fund, under Major Wilson, seem to me to strengthen
the case in favor of Tell Hum very considerably ; and Tell Hum, " the ruined
mound of Hum," is a very natural corruption of Kefr Nahum, " the village of
Nahum." — As this chapter is on the scene of the ministry, it may be well to
observe that the true version of the famous prophecy in Isa. ix. 1 is, " As of old
He lightly estemed the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali ; so, in the lat
ter time, He hath made her glorious by the way of the sea," &c. (See Perowne,
On the Psalms, I. xix.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. , 157

CHAPTER XIII.
JESTJS AT THE PASS0VEK.
" The Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to His Temple." — Mai, iii. 1.
The stay of Jesus at Capernaum on this occasion was very short,1 and
it is not improbable that He simply awaited there the starting of the
great caravan of pilgrims who, at this time, were about to wend their
way to the great feast at Jerusalem.
The Synoptists are silent respecting any visit of Christ to the Pass
over between His twelfth year till His death ; " and it is St. John
alone who, true to . the purpose and characteristics of his Gospel,
mentions this earliest Passover of Christ's ministry, or gives us any
particulars that took place during its progress.3
The main event which distinguished it was the purification of the
Temple — an act so ineffectual to conquer the besetting vice of the
Jews, that he was obliged to repeat it, with expressions still more
stem, at the close of His ministry, and only four days before His
death.4 1 John ii. 12 : " Not many days."
2 But just as St. John distinctly implies the Galilaean ministry (vii. 3, 4), so the
Synoptists distinctly imply that there must have been a Judaean ministry ; e. g.,
Judas is a Jew, and Joseph of Arimathea ; and our Lord waB well known to
people at and near Jerusalem (see Matt. iv. 25 ; xxiii. 37 ; Mark iii. 7, 8, 22 ; xi.
2, 3 : xiv. 14 ; xv. 43 — 46 ; and compare Matt. xiii. 57). In Luke iv. 44 there is
good MS. authority (tf, B, C, L, &c.) for the reading, "He preached in the syna
gogues of Judsea." " The vague and shifting outlines of the Synoptists," says
Mr. Sanday, " allow ample room for all the insertions that are made in them with
so much precision by St. John" (Fourth Gospei, p. 166.) See too the important
testimony of St. Peter (Acts x. 37, 39).
3 Other Passovers mentioned are John vi. 4 ; xi. 55. The feast of v. 1 would
make four Passovers, if it were certain that a Passover were intended ; and in any
case we shall in the course of the narrative find much to confirm the opinion of
Eusebius and Theodoret, that the ministry lasted three years and a few months.
The to itddxa tgov 'IovSaioov I31 of St. John may perhaps be regarded as an
indication that he wrote when the Passover had ceased to be possible.
4 Matt. xxi. 12, 13 ; Mark xi. 15—17 ; Luke xix. 45. It seems impossible to
believe that the two narratives refer to the same event. The consequences of
that act, and the answer which He then gives to the priests who asked for some
proof of His commission to exercise this authority, are quite different. To give
all the arguments which in each case have led me to a particular conclusion on

158 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
We have already seen what vast crowds flocked to the Holy City
at the great annual feast. Then, as now, that immense multitude,
composed of pilgrims from every land, and proselytes of every nation,
brought with them many needs. The traveller who now visits Jeru
salem at Easter time will make his way to the gates of the Church of
the Sepulchre through a crowd of vendors of relics, souvenirs, and
all kinds of objects, who, squatting on the ground, fill all the vacant
space before the church and overflow into the adjoining street. Far
more numerous and far more noisome must have been the buyers
and sellers who choked the avenues leading to the Temple, in the
Passover to which Jesus now went among the other pilgrims ; ' for
what they had to sell were not only trinkets and knick-knacks, such
as now are sold to Eastern pilgrims, but oxen, and sheep, and doves.
On both sides of the eastern gate — the gate Shusan — as far as Sol
omon's porch, there had long been established the shops of mer
chants and the banks of money-changers. The latter were almost a
necessity ; for, twenty days before the Passover, the priests began to
collect the old sacred tribute of half a shekel paid yearly by every
Israelite, whether rich or poor, as atonement money for his soul, and
applied to the expenses of the Tabernacle service." Now it would
not be lawful to pay this in the coinage brought from all kinds of
governments, sometimes represented by wretched counters of brass
and copper, and always defiled with heathen symbols and heathen
inscriptions. It was lawful to send this money to the priests from a
distance, but every Jew who presented himself in the Temple pre
ferred to pay it in person. He was therefore obliged to procure the
little silver coin in return for his own currency, and the money
changers charged him five per cent, as the usual kolbon or agio.3
Had this trafficking been confined to the streets immediately adja
cent to the holy building, it would have been excusable, though not
altogether seemly. Such scenes are described by heathen writers as
occurring round the Temple of Venus at Mount Eryx, and of the
Syrian goddess at Hierapofis — nay even, to qome nearer home, such
scenes once occurred in our own St. Paul's.4 But the mischief had

disputed points, would require five times the space at my disposal, and would
wholly alter the character of the book. I can only ask the reader to believe that
I have always tried to weigh with impartiality the evidence on both sides.
1 The date of this Passover was perhaps April, A. D. 28.
2 Exod. xxx. 11—16.
6 xoXXvfioS. For full information on this subject, with the Rabbinic authori
ties, see Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr., in Matt. xxi. 12.
4 .Elian, Hist. Animal, x. 50; Lucian, De Ded Syr.,i\ (Sepp); Dixon's Holy
Land, ii. 61.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 159
not stopped here. The vicinity of the Court of the Gentiles, with its
broad spaces and long arcades, had been too tempting to Jewish
greed. We learn from the Talmud that a certain Babha Ben Buta
had been the first to introduce " 3,000 sheep of the flocks of Kedar
into the Mountain of the House " — i. e., into the Court of the Gen
tiles, and therefore within the consecrated precincts.1 The profane
example was eagerly followed. The chanujdth of the shop-keepers,
the exchange booths of the usurers, gradually crept into the sacred
enclosure. There, in the actual Court of the Gentiles, steaming with
heat in the burning April day, and filling the Temple with stench
and filth, were penned whole flocks of sheep and oxen," while the
drovers and pilgrims stood bartering and bargaining around them.
There were the men with their great wicker cages filled with doves,
and under the shadow of the arcades, formed by quadruple rows of
Corinthian columns,3 sat the money-changers with their tables cov
ered with piles of various small coins, while, as they reckoned and
wrangled in the most dishonest of trades, their greedy eyes twinkled
with the lust of gain. And this was the entrance-court to the Tem
ple of the Most High ! The court which was a witness that that
house should be a House of Prayer for all nations had been degraded
into a place which, for foulness, was more like shambles, and for
bustling, commerce more like a densely-crowded bazaar ; while the
lowing of oxen, the bleating of sheep, the Babel- of many languages,
the huckstering and wrangling, and the clinking of money and of
balances (perhaps not always just), might be heard in the adjoining
courts, disturbing the chant of the Levites and the prayers of priests !
Filled with a righteous scorn at all this mean irreverence, burning
with irresistible and noble indignation, Jesus, on entering the Temple,
made a scourge of the rushes that lay on the floor ; and in order to
cleanse the sacred court of its worst pollutions, first drove out, indis
criminately, the sheep and oxen and the low crowd who tended them.4

1 Jer. Jdm Tobh., f. 61, 3, quoted by Lightfoot, Hot. Hebr., ubi supr.
2 Their number may be conjectured from the fact that Herod alone sacrificed
300 oxen at the consecration of the new Temple (Jos. Antt. xv. 11, § 6). Josephus
adds that Herod's example was followed by each according to his ability, so that
it was impossible to set down correctly the vast number of the sacrifices.
8 Jos. Antt. xv. 11, § 5.
4 John ii. 15, qopaysXXiov (the Roman flagellum), id. itiE'fiaXsv. That the
scourge was for the men as well as the cattle, is clear from the iidvraS 132 (ver.
15). On this occasion, however, our Lord used the expression " a house of mer
chandise," not, as afterwards, the sterner censure, " a den of robbers." (Cf. Jer.
vii. 10, 11.) Luther's comment on this action is somewhat too free. " 1st das
nicht aufriihrisch ?" 133 he asks. " Diese That Christ! ist nicht zum Exempel zu

160 THE LIFB OF CHRIST.
Then going to the tables of the money-changers He overthrew them
where they stood, upsetting the carefully-arranged heaps of hetero
geneous coinage, and leaving the owners to grope and hunt for their
scattered money on the polluted floor. Even to those who sold doves
He issued the mandate to depart, less sternly indeed, because the
dove was the offering of the poor, and there was less desecration and
foulness in the presence there of those lovely emblems of innocence
and purity ; nor could He overturn the tables of the dove-sellers lest
the birds should be hurt in their cages ; but still, even to those who
sold doves, He authoritatively exclaimed, " Take these things hence,"
justifying His action to the whole terrified, injured, muttering, ignoble
crowd in no other words than the high rebuke, " Make not my Father's
house a house of merchandise." 1 And His disciples, seeing this trans
port of inspiring and glorious anger, recalled to mind what David had
once written " to the chief musician upon Shoshannim," for the ser
vice of that very Temple, " The zeal of thine house shall even devour
me."" Why did not this multitude of ignorant pilgrims resist ? Why did
these greedy chafferers content themselves with dark scowls and mut
tered maledictions, while they suffered their oxen and sheep to be
chased into the streets and themselves ejected, and their money flung
rolling on the floor, by one who was then young and unknown, and
in the garb of despised Galilee ? Why, in the same way we might
ask, did Saul suffer Samuel to beard him in the very presence of his
army ? Why did David abjectly obey the orders of Joab ? Why
Ziehen ; er hat sie nicht als Diener des Neuen, sondern des Alten Testament und
Mosis Schiller gethan " 134 (Hase, p. 76). I quote this unbecoming and mistaken
remark only to show how even the best and greatest fail to rise to the height of
that universal morality of which the life of Jesus is the sole human example.
1 Cf. Luke ii. 49. We find in the Talmud that doves were usually sold in the
chanujoth, or " shops," belonging to the family of Annas on the Mount of Olives,
who had so multiplied the occasions for offering them, that a single dove cost a
gold piece, until this nefarious artificial value was reduced by the teachings of R.
Simeon, the son of Gamaliel. Perhaps the profitableness of the trade had caused
its extension to the Temple courts (Derenbourg, Hist, de Palest, d'apres les Thai-
muds, 467). He quotes Keritoth, i. 7. The expression chanujdth beni Hanan is
found in Jer.Pea. i. 6 (id. H>.).
2 Ps. lxix. 9. There is no doubt that xara/pdysrai 135 (tf, A, B, E, F, G, &c.)
is the right reading ; but it may by a Hebraism really imply the xareqoays ,36 of
the LXX. " The praeterite, as a representative of the present, is employed also to
denote the future (Gesen., Hebr. Gram. , § 124, 4 ; Turpie, The Old Testament in
the New, p. 29). Bishop Wordsworth points out that St. John's phrase in quota
tion is ysypa/n/iiEvov idri 1S1 (vi. 31, 45 ; x. 34, &c), that of the other Evangelists
yiypaitrai.1™ We may notice that St. John's style is more analytical and more
modern than that of the others.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 161
did Ahab not dare to arrest Elijah at the door of Naboth's vineyard ?
Because sin is weakness ; because .there is in the world nothing so
abject as a guilty conscience, nothing so invincible as the sweeping
tide of a Godlike indignation against all that is base and wrong.
How could these paltry sacrilegious buyers and sellers, conscious of
wrong-doing, oppose that scathing rebuke, or face the lightnings of
those eyes that were enkindled by an outraged holiness? When
Phinehas the priest was zealous for the Lord of Hosts, and drove
through the bodies of the prince of Simeon and the Midianitish
woman with one glorious thrust of his indignant spear, why did not
guilty Israel avenge that splendid murder ? Why did not every man
of the tribe of Simeon become a Goel to the dauntless assassin ?
Because Vice cannot stand for one moment before Virtue's uplifted
arm. Base and grovelling as they were, these money-mongering
Jews felt, in all that remnant of their souls which was not yet eaten
away by infidelity and avarice, that the Son of Man was right.
Nay, even the Priests and Pharisees, and Scribes and Levites,
devoured as they were by pride and formalism, could not condemn
an act which might have been performed by a Nehemiah or a Judas
Maecabseus, and which agreed with all that was purest and best in
their traditions.1 But when they had heard of this deed, or witnessed
it, and had time to recover from the breathless mixture of admiration,
disgust, and astonishment which it inspired, they came to Jesus, and
though they did not dare to condemn what He had done, yet half
indignantly asked Him for some sign that He had a right to act
thus." Our Lord's answer in its full meaning was far beyond their com
prehension, and in what appeared to be its meaning filled them with
a perfect stupor of angry amazement. " Destroy," He said, " this
temple,3 and in three days I will raise it up."
1 E. g., in the Rabbis we find R. Eliezer Ben Zadok severely blamed for prac
ticing merchandise in a synagogue which he himself had built at Alexandria
(Sepp). Gfrorer has pointed out the remarkable fact that in the Targum of
Jonathan, at the last verse of Zechariah (xiv. 21), the word " trader " is substi
tuted for " Canaanite." " There shall be no more the trader in the house of the
Lord." (Ebrard, Gosp. Hist., E. Tr., p. 219.)
2 " The Jews " in John ii. 18 means, as usual in this Gospel, " the opponents of
Jesus." The term hardly occurs in the other Gospels, except in the title of the
cross " King of the Jews ; " but to St. John " standing within the boundary of the
Christian age, . . the name appears to be the true antithesis to Christianity."
(Westcott, s. v. " Jew " in Smith's Diet. Bible)
3 John ii. 19. More literally, " shrine" (vadv), not ispov as before in verse 14.
Consequently the assertion of the Jews was not strictly accurate, for 6 vadi
ovroi (as distinguished from to ispov), with all its porticoes, had been finished
21

162 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Destroy this Temple ! — the Temple on which a king pre-eminent
for his wealth and magnificence had lavished his most splendid
resources, and thereby almost reconciled the Jews to an intolerable
tyranny ; the Temple for the construction of which one thousand
wagons had been required, and ten thousand workmen enrolled, and
a thousand priests in sacerdotal vestments employed to lay the stones
which the workmen had already hewn ; the Temple which was a mar
vel to the world for its colossal substructions of marble, its costly
mosaics, its fragrant woods, its glittering roofs, the golden vine with
its hanging clusters sculptured over the entrance door, the embroid
ered vails, enwoven with fiowers of purple, the profuse magnificence
of its silver, gold, and precious stones.1 It had been already forty-six
years in building, and was yet far from finished ; and this unknown
Galilean youth bade them destroy it, and He would raise it in three
days ! Such was the literal and evidently false construction which
they chose to put upon His words, though the recorded practice of
their own great prophets might have shown them that a mystery lay
hidden in this sign which He gave."
How ineffaceable was the impression produced by the words is best
proved by the fact that more than three years afterwards it was this,
more than all His other discourses, which His accusers and false wit
nesses tried to pervert into a constructive evidence of guilt ; nay, it
was even this, more than anything else, with which the miserable
in eight or nine years. The Talmud (Taanith, f. 23 a) says that to aid the build
ing, the rain which fell had been dried with miraculous quickness. The sign
which Jesus gives is His prediction. Cf. Micaiah (1 Kings xxii. 24 ; Jer. xx.
1—6, &c).
1 See the elaborate and gloating description of Josephus (Antt. xv. 11, §§ 3—5).
It appears, however, that the actual Holy Place — the vadS alone — had been
" built by the priests in a year and six months " (id. 6). The expression of the
Jews applied to the whole area with its splendid colonnades, royal citadel, &c.
Josephus says (xv. 11, § 1) that Herod had begun the Temple in the eighteenth
year of his reign —i. e. between Nisan 1, A. U. C. 734 and 735. This would give
us A. U. C. 781—782, A. D. 28 or 29, for our Lord's first Passover; and as the
Temple was begun in Kisleu, the exact date is probably A. D. 28. This agrees
with the date given in Luke iii. 1, if we suppose that he dates from the first year
of Tiberius's joint reign, as we seem entitled to infer from the evidence of coins
&c. (Wieseler, Beitrdge, 177 ff.; see Sanday, Fourth Gospel, p. 65). Similarly in
Jos. B. J, i. 21, § 1, Herod is said to have begun the Temple in the fifteenth year
of his reign, which is no contradiction to Antt. xv. 11, § 1, the reign in the former
instance being dated from the death of Augustus, in the latter from the confirma
tion of Herod by the Romans. The mxoS o/iijB?? seems to imply that the works
were then suspended (cf. Ezra v. 16), but the whole was not finished till the time
of Herod Agrippa II. (Antt. xx. 9, § 7).
2 See iBa. vii. 11, 14, &c.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 163
robber taunted Him upon the very cross. They were obliged, indeed,
entirely to distort His words into "lam able to destroy the Temple
of God," ' or " I will destroy this Temple made with hands, and in
three days will build another." " He had never used these expres
sions, and here also then false witness was so self-contradictory as to
break down. But they were well aware that this attempt of theirs
to infuse a political and seditious meaning into what He said, was
best calculated to madden the tribunal before which He was arraigned :
indeed, so well adapted was it to this purpose that the mere distant
echo, as it were, of the same words was again the main cause of mar
tyrdom to His protomartyr Stephen.3
" But he spake," says St. John, " of the temple of His body," and
he adds that it was not until His resurrection that His disciples fully
understood His words.4 Nor is this astonishing, for they were words
of very deep significance. Hitherto there had been but one Temple
of the true God, the Temple in which He then stood — the Temple
which symbolized, and had once at least, as the Jews believed, enshrined
that Shechinah, or cloud of glory, which was the living witness to
God's presence in the world. But now the Spirit of God abode in a
Temple not made with hands, even in the sacred Body of the Son of
God made flesh. He tabernacled among us ; " He had a tent like
ours, and of 'the same material." Even this was to be done away.
At that great Pentecost three years later, and thenceforward for ever,
the Holy Spirit of God was to prefer
" Before all temples the upright heart and pure."
Every Christian man was to be, in his mortal body, a temple of the
Holy Ghost. This was to be the central truth, the sublimest privi
lege of the New Dispensation ; this was to be the object of Christ's
departure, and to make it " better for us that He should go away."
Nothing could have been more amazing to the carnal mind, that
walked by sight and not by faith — nothing more offensive to the
Pharisaic mind that clung to the material — than this high truth,
that his sacred Temple at Jerusalem was henceforth to be no longer,
with any special privilege, the place where men were to worship the
Father ; that, in fact, it was the truest Temple no longer. Yet they
might, if they had willed it, have had some faint conception of what
Christ meant. They must have known that by the voice of John
He had been proclaimed the Messiah ; they might have realized what
he afterwards said to them, that " in this place was one greater than
1 Matt. xxvi. 61. 8 Acts vi. 14.
* Mark xiv. 58. ' 4 Ps. xvi. 10 ; Hos. vi. 2 ; 1 Cor. xv. 4, &c.

164 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the Temple ; " they might have entered into the remarkable utterance
of a Rabbi of their own class — an utterance involved in the pro
phetic language of Daniel ix. 24, and which they ought therefore
to have known — that the true Holy of Holies was the Messiah
Himself. And in point of fact there is an incidental but profoundly signifi
cant indication that they had a deeper insight into Christ's real mean
ing than they chose to reveal. For, still brooding on these same
words — the first official words which Christ had addressed to them —
when Jesus lay dead and buried in the rocky tomb, they came to
Pilate with the remarkable story, " Sir, we remember that that
deceiver ' said, while He was yet alive, After three days I will rise
again." Now there is no trace that Jesus had ever used any such
words distinctly to them ; and unless they had heard the saying from
Judas, or unless it had been repeated by common rumor derived
from the Apostles — i. e., unless the " we remember " was a distinct
falsehood — they could have been referring to no other occasion than
this. And that they should have heard it from any of the disciples
was most unlikely ; for over the slow hearts of the Apostles these
words of our Lord seem to have passed like the idle wind. In spite
of all that He had told them, there seems to have been nothing which
they expected less than His death, unless it were His subsequent
resurrection. How then came these Pharisees and Priests to under
stand better than His own disciples what our Lord had meant?
Because they were not fike the Apostles, loving, guileless, simple-
hearted men ; because, in spite of all their knowledge and insight,
their hearts were even already full of the hatred and rejection which
ended in Christ's murder, and which drew the guilt of His blood on'
the heads of them and of their children.
But there was yet another meaning which the words involved, not,
indeed, less distasteful to their prejudices, but none the less full of
warning, and more clearly within the range of their understandings.
The Temple was the very heart of the whole Mosaic system, the
head-quarters, so to speak, of the entire Levitical ceremonial. In
profaning that Temple, and suffering it to be profaned — in suffering
One whom they chose to regard as only a poor Galilsean teacher to
achieve that purification of it which, whether from supineness or
from self-interest, or from timidity, neither Caiaphas, nor Annas, nor
Hillel, nor Shammai, nor Gamaliel, nor Herod had ventured to
attempt — were they not, as it were, destroying that Temple, abrogat
ing that system, bearing witness by their very actions that for them

THE LIFE OF CHRIST 165
its real significance had passed away ? " Finish, then," ' he might
have implied, at once by way of prophecy and of permission, " finish
without delay this your work of dissolution : in three days will I, as
a risen Redeemer, restore something better and greater ; not a mate
rial Temple, but a living Church." Such is the meaning which St.
Stephen seems to have seen in these words. Such is the meaning
which is expanded in so many passages by the matchless reasoning
and passion of St. Paul. But to this and every meaning they were
deaf, and dull, and blind. They seem to have gone away silent
indeed, but sullen and dissatisfied ; suspicious of, yet indifferent to,
the true solution; ignorant, yet too haughty and too angry to
inquire. What great works Jesus did on this occasion we cannot tell.
Whatever they were, they caused some to believe on Him ; but it
was not as yet a belief in which He could trust. Their mere intellec
tual witness to His claims He needed not ; and their hearts, untouched
as yet, were, as He knew by divine insight, cold and barren, treach
erous and false."
1 John ii. 19, Avdars. It is obviously hypothetic. Cf . Matt. xii. 33.
1 John ii. 23—25.

166 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XIV.
NICODEMUS.
O SiSadxaXoi rov HdparjX. 139 — John iii. 10.
A caste or a sect may consist for the most part of haughty fanatics
and obstinate bigots, but it will be strange indeed if there are to be
found among them no exceptions to the general characteristics ;
strange if honesty, candor, sensibility, are utterly dead among them
all. Even among rulers, scribes, Pharisees, and wealthy members of
the Sanhedrin, Christ found believers and followers. The earliest
and most remarkable of these was Nicodemus, a rich man, a ruler, a
Pharisee, and a member of the Sanhedrin.1
A constitutional timidity is, however, observable in all which the
Gospels tell us about Nicodemus ; a timidity which could not be
wholly overcome even by his honest desire to befriend and acknowl
edge One whom he knew to be a Prophet, even if he did not at
once recognize in Him the promised Messiah. Thus the few words
which he interposed to check the rash injustice of his colleagues are
cautiously rested on a general principle, and betray no indication of
his personal faith in the Gafikean whom his sect despised. And even
when the power of Christ's love, manifested on the cross, had made
the most timid disciples bold, Nicodemus does not come forward with
his splendid gifts of affection until the example had been set by one
of his own wealth, and rank, and station in society. "

1 Matt. ix. 18 ; Mark xii. 28. Strauss considers this conversation with Nico
demus to have been invented to show that the followers of Jesus were not all
obscure and poor ! But the Fathers and early Christians considered it to be their
glory, not their reproach, that to the poor the Gospel was preached (see 1 Cor.
i. 26 — 29). It is with no touch of regret that Jerome writes, " Ecclesia Christi non
de AcademiS, et Lycaeo, sed de viii plebeculd congregata est " I40 (Comm. in Gal.
iii. 3.)
2 John vii. 50 ; xix. 39. I have borrowed a few words from my article on
" Nicodemus " in Smith's Diet, of the Bible. The name, which seems to have
been not uncommon among the Jews (Jos. Antt. xiv. 8, § 2), is doubtless, like so
many Jewish names at this period, derived from the Greek. In the Talmud it
appears under the form Nakdlm6n, and some would derive it from naki, " inno
cent," and dam, " blood." (See Wetstein, N. T. i. 150.) Tradition says that after

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 167
Such was the Rabbi who, with that mingled candor and fear of
man which characterize all that we know of him, came indeed to
Jesus, but came cautiously by night. He was anxious to know more
of this young Galilsean prophet whom he was too honest not to rec
ognize as a teacher come from God ; but he thought himself too
eminent a person among his sect to compromise his dignity, and pos
sibly even his safety, by visiting Him in public.
Although he is alluded to in only a few touches, because of that
high teaching which Jesus vouchsafed to him, yet the impression left
upon us by his individuality is inimitably distinct, and wholly beyond
the range of invention. His very first remark shows the indirect
character of his mind — his way of suggesting rather than stating
what he wished — the half -patronizing desire to ask, yet the half-
shrinking reluctance to frame his question — the admission that Jesus
had come " from God," yet the hesitating implication that it was
only as " a teacher," and the suppressed inquiry, " What must I do ? "
Our Lord saw deep into his heart, and avoiding all formalities or
discussion of preliminaries, startles him at once with the solemn
uncompromising address, " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a
man be born again (or ' from above '),' he cannot see the kingdom of
God." My disciple must be mine in heart and soul, or he is no dis
ciple at all ; the question is not of doing or not doing, but of being.
That answer startled Nicodemus into deep earnestness ; but like
the Jews in the last chapter (ii. 20), he either could not, or would not,
grasp its full significance. He prefers to play, with a kind of quer-
the Resurrection (which would supply the last outward impulse necessary to con
firm his faith and increase his courage) he became a professed disciple of Christ,
and received baptism from Peter and John ; that the Jews then stripped him of
his office, beat him, and drove him from Jerusalem ; that his kinsman Gamaliel
received and sheltered him in his country house till death, and finally gave him
honorable burial near the body of -St. Stephen. If he be identical with the Nak-
dimon Ben Gorion of the Talmud, he outlived the fall of Jerusalem, and his
family were reduced from wealth to such horrible poverty that, whereas the
bridal bed of his daughter had been covered with a dower of 12,000 denarii, she
was subsequently seen endeavoring to support life by picking the grains from the
ordure of cattle in the streets. (Gittin, f . 56, 1 ; Kethubh., i. 66, 2, quoted by
Otho, Lex. Rabb. s. v.)
2 The two meanings do not exclude each other. St. John elsewhere always
uses dvaoBsv in the sense of "from above" (i. 13; 1 John ii. 29; iii. 9 ; iv. 7;
comp. James i. 17) ; on the other hand, it is clear that Nicodemus here understood
Christ to mean also " a second birth " (ver. 4 ; and cf . Gal. vi. 15 ; 1 Pet. i. 3, 23) ;
and as our Lord probably spoke in Aramaic, and there is, according to Grotius, no
Aramaic word which has both meanings, Alford is doubtless right in making
it = d vaysvvddBat.

168 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ulous surprise, about the mere literal meaning of the words which he
chooses to interpret in the most physical and unintelligible sense.
Mere logomachy like this Jesus did not pause to notice ; He only
sheds a fresh ray of light on the reiteration of his former warning.
He spoke, not of the fleshly birth, but of that spiritual regeneration
of which no man could predict the course or method, any more than
they could tell the course of the night breeze that rose and fell and
whispered fitfully outside the little tabernacle where they sat,1 but
which must be a birth by water and by the Spirit — a purification,
that is, and a renewal — an outward symbol and an inward grace —
a death unto sin and a new birth unto righteousness.
Nicodemus could only answer by an expression of incredulous
amazement. A Gentile might need, as it were, a new birth when
admitted into the Jewish communion ; but he — a son of Abraham,
a Rabbi, a zealous keeper of the Law — could he need that new birth ?
How could such things be ?
"Art thou the teacher (6 SiSciffKaXos) of Israel," asked our Lord,
" and knowest not these things ? " " Art thou the third member of
the Sanhedrin, the chdkdm or wise man, and yet knowest not the
earliest, simplest lesson of the initiation into the kingdom of heaven ?
If thy knowledge be thus carnal, thus limited — if thus thou stum-
blest on the threshold, how canst thou understand those deeper truths
which He only who came down from heaven can make known ? The
question was half sorrowful, half reproachful ; but He proceeded to
reveal to this Master in Israel things greater and stranger than these ;
even the salvation of man rendered possible by the sufferings and
exaltation of the Son of Man ;3 the love of God manifested in send-
1 That this was the character of the allusion seems to be implied in the use of
to itvEvna, " the breeze," rather than 6 avEfins, " the wind." Ruach in Hebrew
no less than itvtviia in Greek, means both spirit and wind. This is, indeed, the
only place in the N. T. where itvEvfia is used in this sense ; but it is found in the
LXX. (Gen. viii. 1 ; Wisd. v. 23), and the quotation in Heb. i. 7. But to make it
mean as many do, " The Spirit breathes where it wills," &c, gives an inferior
sense. The meaning is, " The wind breatheth where it listeth ; so it is with
every one born of the Spirit." Alford refers to other instances of the same idiom.
' This may, perhaps, be the meaning. The president of the Sanhedrin was
called the Nasi ("T^l1) ; the vice-president was called Father of the House of
Judgment (V! n,2 '?!•) ; the third member, who sat on the president's left, bore the
title of chdkdm, or " wise man " (0"ri). On the other hand, o SiSddxaXoS may
be merely generic — . " one of oi SiSddxaXoi." Cf . Gal. iv. 2.
3 The vibaoBfjvai1" (ver. 14) is both literal and metaphorical — uplifted on the
cross, exalted to the kingdom. Cf . Gen. xl. 13 ; John xii. 32 ; and ditapBy ,4!
(Luke v. 35).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 169
ing His only-begotten Son, not to judge but to save ; ' the deliverance
for all through faith in Him ; the condemnation which must fall on
those who wilfully reject the truths He came to teach.
These were indeed the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven — truths
once undreamed of, but now fully revealed. And although they
violated every prejudice, and overthrew every immediate hope of this
aged inquirer — though to learn them he must ualearn the entire
intellectual habits of his life and training — yet we know from the
sequel that they must have sunk into his inmost soul. Doubtless in
the further discussion of them the night deepened around them ; and
in the memorable words about the fight and the darkness with which
the interview was closed, Jesus gently rebuked the fear of man which
led this great Rabbi to seek the shelter of midnight for a deed which
was not a deed of darkness needing to he concealed, but which was
indeed a coming to the true and only Light.
Whatever lessons were uttered, or signs were done during the
remainder of this First Passover, no further details are given us
about them. Finding a stolid and insensate opposition, our Lord left
Jerusalem, and went with His disciples " into Judsea," apparently to
the banks of the Jordan, for there St. John tells us that His disci
ples began to baptize." This baptism, a distant foreshadowing of the
future sacrament, Christ seems rather to have permitted than to have
directly organized. As yet it was the time of Preparation ; as yet
the inauguration of His ministry had been, if we may be allowed the
expression, of an isolated and tentative description. Theologians
have sought for all kinds of subtle and profound explanations of this
baptism by the disciples. Nothing, however, that has been sug
gested throws any further light upon the subject, and we can only
believe that Jesus permitted for a time this simple and beautiful rite
as a sign of discipleship, and as the national symbol of a desire for
that lustration of the heart which was essential to all who would enter
into the kingdom of heaven.
John the Baptist was still continuing his baptism of repentance.
Here, too, theologians have discovered a deep and mysterious dif-
1 The Change from iva xpivy ,43 (act.) to 'iva daoBy 144 (pass.) indicates that in
this great salvation man s free will must take a part. Alford, whose notes on
this chapter are specially good, points out in verse 20 the remarkable variation
from 6 cpavXa itpdddeov 146 to o icoimv rrjv dXr/Bsiav 14S (cf. v. 29, oi rd dyaBd
itoirjdavTES — oi Si rd cpavXa itpd£avrsSu''), as indicating the transient and
worthless result of evil, and the permanent effect of good.
2 He would not Himself baptize ; the reasons for this would be analogous to
those which prevented St. Paul from frequently baptizing, but far deeper, and
more peremptory. 22

170 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ficulty, and have entered into elaborate disquisitions on the relations
between the baptism of Jesus and of John. Nothing, however, has
been elicited from the discussion.1 Inasmuch as the full activity of
Christ's ministry had not yet begun, the baptism of St. John no less
than that of the disciples must be still regarded as a symbol of
repentance and purity. Nor will any one who is convinced that
Repentance is "the younger brother of Innocence," and that for all
who have sinned repentance is the very work of life, be surprised
that the earliest preaching of Jesus as of John was — " Repent, for
the kingdom of heaven is at hand." " The time of preparation, of
preliminary testing, was not over yet ; it was indeed drawing to a
conclusion, and this baptism by the disciples was but a transitory
phase of the opening ministry. And the fact that John no longer
preached in the wilderness, or baptized at Bethany, but had found it
desirable to leave the scene of his brief triumph and glory, marked
that there was a waning in the brightness of that star of the Gospel
dawn. The humble spirit of John — in all of whose words a deep
undertone of sadness is traceable — accepted, in entire submissiveness
to the will of God, the destiny of a brief and interrupted mission.
He had removed to ^Enon, near Salim, a locality so wholly uncer
tain that it is impossible to arrive at any decision respecting it.'
Some still came to his baptism, though probably in clirninished num
bers, for a larger multitude now began to flock to the baptism of
Christ's disciples. But the ignoble jealousy which could not darken
the illuminated soul of the Forerunner, found a ready place in the
hearts of his followers. How long it may have smouldered we do
not know, but it was called into active display during the controversy
excited by the fact that two great Teachers, of whom one had testi
fied to the other as the promised Messiah, were baptizing large mul-
1 Tert., De Baptismo, xi. ; Calvin, Institt., cc. 15, 18 ; Schneckenburger, TJeber
das Alter der Jiidischen Proselyten-taufe; Wall, Hist, of Inf. Bapt.; R. Hall,
Works, ii. 175 seqq., &c. — Ewald thinks that the baptism of the disciples only
differed from that of John in the two respects that, (i.) it was now directed to
Jesus definitely as the Messiah to whom John had borne witness ; and (ii.) that it
was an initiation not into painful penitences, but into a life of divine joy and love
(Gesch. Christ., p. 345.)
2 Matt, xviii. 3 ; Mark i. 15.
3 Jerome, and the great majority of inquirers, place it near Beth-shean, or Scy-
thopolis, in the Valley of the Jordan, where there were ruins called Salumias,
and a spring. The objection to this is that it would be in the limits of Samaria.
Robinson (iii. 298) found a Salim east of Nablous. Others have fancied they
found places which might answer the description near Hebron (cf. Josh. xv. 32) ;
and even at Wady Seleim, five miles N. E. of Jerusalem. The identification of
the site is of no great importance for the narrative.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. • \1\
titudes of people, although the Sanhedrin and all the appointed
authorities of the nation had declared against their claims. Some
Jew 1 had annoyed the disciples of John with a dispute about purifi
cation, and they vented their perplexed and mortified feelings in a
complaint to their great master : " Rabbi, He who was with thee
beyond Jordan, to whom thou hast borne witness," lo He is baptizing,
and all men are coming to Him." The significant suppression of the
name, the tone of irritation at what appeared to them an encroach
ment, the scarcely subdued resentment that any one should be a suc
cessful rival to him whose words had for a season so deeply stirred
the hearts of men, are all apparent in this querulous address. And
in the noble answer to it, all John's inherent greatness shone forth.
He could not enter into rivalries, which would be a treachery against
his deepest convictions, a falsification of his most solemn words. God
was the sole source of human gifts, and in His sight there can be no
such thing as human greatness. He reminded them of his assevera
tion that He was not the Christ, but only His messenger ; He was
not the bridegroom, but the bridegroom's friend, and his heart was
even now being gladdened by the bridegroom's voice. Henceforth
he was content to decrease ; content that his fittle light should be
swallowed up in the boundless Dawn. He was but an earthly mes
senger ; but he had put the seal of his most intense conviction to the
belief that God was true, and had given all things to His Son, and
that through Him alone could eternal life be won.
1 fiBrd 'IovSaiov, " with a Jew," seems to be undoubtedly the right reading in
John iii. 25. (N, A, B, L, &c.)
2 UEfiaprvpr/xai, a perfect tense (John iii. 26).

172 - THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XV.
the woman of samaeia.
" In templo vis orare ? in te ora, sed prius esto templum Dei." 14S — Aug.
The Jew whose discussions had thus deeply moved the followers
of John may well have been one of the prominent Pharisees ; and
our Lord soon became aware that they were watching his proceedings
with an unfriendly eye. Their hostility to John was a still deeper
hostility against Him, for the very reason that His teaching was
already more successful. Perhaps in consequence of this determined
rejection of the earliest steps of His teaching — perhaps also out of
regard for the wounded feelings of John's followers — but most of
all because at this very time the news reached Him that John had
been seized by Herod Antipas and thrown into prison — Jesus left
Judaea and again departed into Galilee.1 Being already in the north
of Judsea, He chose the route which led through Samaria. The
fanaticism of Jewish hatred, the fastidiousness of Jewish Pharisaism,
which led His countrymen when travelling alone to avoid that route,
could have no existence for Him, and were things rather to be dis
couraged than approved.
Starting early in the morning, to enjoy as many as possible of the
cool hours for travelling, he stopped at length for rest and refresh
ment in the neighborhood of Sychar," a city not far from the well in
the fertile district which the partiality of the patriarch Jacob had
bequeathed to his favorite son. The well, like all frequented wells
in the East, was doubtless sheltered by a little alcove, in which were
seats of stone.
1 The first reasofts are emphasized by John (iv. 2, 3), the latter by Matt. iv. 12 ;
Mark i. 14. For the imprisonment of John, vid. infra, Chap. XX. (see pp. 289,
seqq.). The Synoptists markedly make the imprisonment of John the beginning
of the Galilaean ministry, but the Fourth Gospel supplies the hiatus which they
leave. 5 The town of Shechem (cf. iv. 5 with Gen. xxxiii: 19 ; xlviii. 22, " one portion,"
LXX. Sixifia i%aipsrov) — the modern Nablus (Neapolis) — corresponds to the
description here given of Sychar ; and if we imagine that the city extended a little
farther eastward than at present, it is not so far from the well as to render it
unlikely that the women of the city would sometimes resort to it for the cool and

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 173
It was the hour of noon,1 and weary as He was with the long jour
ney, possibly also with the extreme heat, our Lord sat " thus " on the
well. The expression in the original is most pathetically picturesque.
It implies that the Wayfarer was quite tired out, and in His exhaus
tion flung His limbs wearily on the seat, anxious if possible for com
plete repose. His disciples — probably the two pairs of brothers
whom he had called among the earliest, and with them the friends
Phifip and Bartholomew — had left him, to buy in the neighboring
city what was necessary for their wants ; and hungry and thirsty,
He who bore all our infirmities sat wearily awaiting them, when His
solitude was broken by the approach of a woman. In a May noon
in Palestine the heat may be indeed intense," but it is not too mtense
sacred water. From what the name of Sychar is derived is uncertain. The word
Xsyo/iEvoS in St. John seems to imply a sobriquet (xi. 16 ; xx. 24 ; xix. 13). It
may be ~>i?.f (sheker), " a lie," alluding to the false worship of the Temple on Geri-
zim ; or ~®v (shikkor), " drunken," alluding to Isa. xxviii. 1 ; or V" (sukar), " a
sepulchre," alluding to Joseph's tomb, which is close by (Josh. xxiv. 32). If the
designation were common, St. John might use it without any shadow of scorn ;
or, again, Sychar may possibly have been a village [itoXii is very loosely used ;
thus Capernaum in the Gospels is called itoXii, though JosephuB only calls it a
village, xao/irf] nearer the well than Sichem, on the site of the village now called
El Askar, a name which Mr. Thomson says (The Land and the Book, ii. 220) may
very easily have been corrupted from Sychar. (See, too, Keim, iii. 15, 16.)
1 I must here repeat that I see no sufficient reason for supposing that St. John
adopts a different computation of hours from that of the other Evangelists. If it
had been evening, there would have been many women at the well instead of one ;
and, as Alford observes, St. John, if he had meant six in the evening, would have
naturally specified whether he meant 6 a. m. or p. m. It is a pity that such a
notion has ever been started. Rettig, followed by Olshausen, Meyer, Tholuck,
&c, assumed that the Romans had a civil day, the same as the modern. Hug
attempted, but quite failed, to prove it. Wieseler, acknowledging that there is
no evidence of any such civil reckoning, appeals to the fact that for scientific pur
poses the hora aequinoctialis (i. e. the twenty-fourth part of a vvxBiJMspov) was
recognized (e. g. by Pliny, Hist. Nat. ii. 79), and concludes, from internal evidence
— but, as it seems to me, quite unnecessarily — that St. John must have done so
(Synops., pp. 377 ff., E. Tr.). Ewald also adopts this view in a more summary way
(Gesch. Christ., pp. 323, 573 ; Alterthumer, p. 452), though he admits that Josephus
( Vit. 54) and Philo (Opp. i., p. 692) have no such reckoning. Townson conjectured,
without sufficient proof, that St. John had found this mode of reckoning in use at
Ephesus. St. John reckoned his hours from sunrise, as did the rest of mankind
till the fifth century, so far as we know. (See p. 131.)
2 It is not possible to determine at what time of the year this incident took
place . Those who take John iv. 35 literally, suppose that it was in December ;
those who take verse 36 literally, place it in May. Now one of the two must be
metaphorical, and how shall we decide which ? Each supposition is surrounded
with difficulties ; but as the baptizing period seems to have been extremely short,
and as the Passover in this year was in April, there is possibly a shade more like-

174 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
to admit of moving about ; and this woman, either from accident, or,
possibly, because she was in no good repute, and therefore would avoid
the hour when the well would be thronged by all the women of the city,1
was coming to draw water. Her national enthusiasm and reverence
for the great, ancestor of her race, or perhaps the superior coolness
and freshness of the water, may have been sufficient motive to induce
her to seek this well, rather than any nearer fountain." Water in the
East is not only a necessity, but a delicious luxury, and the natives
of Palestine are connoisseurs as to its quality.
Jesus would have hailed her approach. The scene, indeed, in that
rich green valley, with the great corn-fields spreading far and wide, and
the grateful shadow of trees, and the rounded masses of Ebal and
Gerizhn rising on either hand, might well have invited to lonely
musing; and all the associations of that sacred spot — the story of
Jacob, the neighboring tomb of the princely Joseph, the memories of
Joshua, and of Gideon, and the long fine of Israelitish kings — would
supply many a theme for such meditations. But the Lord was thirsty
and fatigued, and having no means of reaching the cool water which
glimmered deep below the well's mouth, He said to the woman,
" Give me to drink."
Every one who has travelled in the East knows how glad and ready
is the response to this request. The miserable Fellah, even the rough
Bedawy, seems to feel a positive pleasure in having it in his power to
obey the command of his great prophet, and share with a thirsty
traveller the priceless element. But so deadly was the hatred and
rivalry between Jews and Samaritans, so entire the absence of all
familiar intercourse between them, that the request only elicited from
the woman of Samaria an expression of surprise that it should have
been made.3
lihood that it took place in May. If so, " Say ye not, There are yet four months,
and then cometh harvest," must be understood as being merely a proverbial
expression of the average interval between seed-time and harvest in some parts
of Palestine ; for which proverb there are parallels both in Hebrew and classic
literature. 1 Gen. xxiv. 11.
2 itr/yxf (John iv. 6). cppiap (ver. 12).
3 ov yap dvyxpGovrai (i.e. hold no familiarity with) UovSaXoi Safiapsiraii
(John iv. 9) ; see Ezra iv. 1. Even our Lord speaks of a Samaritan as dXXoy EvnS
(Luke xvii. 18). The Jews called them Cuthites ; coupled the name of " Samari
tan " with " devil ; " accused them of worshipping the earrings and idolatrous
amulets buried by Jacob under the Allonmeonenim or " Enchanter's Oak " (Gen.
xxxv. 4) ; cursed them in their synagogues ; did not suffer them to become prose
lytes ; said that to eat their bread was like eating swine's flesh ; and denied them
all share in the resurrection. The Samaritans, on their part, were accused of

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 175
Gently, and without a word of rebuke, our Lord tells her that had
¦ she known Him, and asked of Him, He would have given her living
water.1 She pointed to the well, a hundred feet deep. He had noth
ing to draw with : whence could He obtain this fiving water ? And
then, perhaps with a smile of incredulity and national pride, she
asked if He were greater than their father Jacob, who had digged
and drunk of that very well." And yet there must have been some
thing which struck and overawed her in His words, for now she
addresses Him by the title of respect which had been wanting in her
first address.
 _\ 
waylaying Jews ; of misleading them by false fire-signals ; and of having scat
tered bones in the Temple (Jos. Antt. xx. 6, § 1 ; xviii. 2, § 2). " Are you a Jew ? "
asked Salameh Cohen, the Samaritan high priest of Dr. Frankl ; " and do you
come to us, the Samaritans who are despised by the Jews 1 " (Jews in the East,
ii. 329.) He added that they would willingly live in friendship with the Jews,
but that the Jews avoided all intercourse with them. Soon after visiting the
Sepharedish Jews of Nablous, Dr. Frankl asked one of that sect, " if he had any
intercourse with the Samaritans. The women retreated with a cry of horror, and
one of them said, ' Have you been among the worshippers of the pigetin ? ' I said
that I had. The women again fell back with the same expression of repugnance,
and one of them said, ' Take a purifying bath ! ' " (id., p. 334). I had the pleasure
of spending a day among the Samaritans encamped on Mount Gerizim for their
annual Passover, and neither in their habits nor apparent character could I see
any cause for all this horror and hatred.
1 Not far from Jacob's well — which is one of the very few precise spots in
Palestine actually and closely identified by probability, as well as by unanimous
tradition, with our Saviour's presence — there gushes a sweet and abundant
stream. The fact that even the close vicinity of the fountain should not have
been enough to render needless the toil of Jacob in digging the well — which is
of immense depth — forcibly illustrates the jealousy and suspicion that marked
his relations to the neighboring Canaanites. I sat by Jacob's well at noon one
April day in 1870, hot and thirsty and tired. The well is now dry, and in fact all
that can be seen of it is a pit some twenty feet deep ; the true well, or at any rate
the mouth of it, having been filled up with masses of rubble and masonry from
the basilica once built over it. Captain Anderson descended it to a depth of
seventy-five feet, and it may have been twice that depth originally ( Work in
Palestine, p. 201). Riding on to the stream, I asked for some water, and, to my
extreme surprise, for it never happened on any other occasion, was refused. I
can only suppose that the cup which the Arab had in his hand was in some way
sacred, and he did not wish it to be touched by a Nusrdny.
8 Josephus (Antt. ix. 14, § 3; xi. 8, § 6; xii. 5, § 5) says that the Samaritans
were fond of appealing to their descent from Jacob when the Jews were in pros
perity, but denied all relationship when the Jews were in adversity. The son of
Sirach calls them, "the foolish people (5 XaoS 6 fiGopoi) that dwelleth in
Shechem." Wetstein thinks that this was a play on the ancient name Moreh.
" There be two manner of nations which my heart abhorreth, and the third is no
nation : they that sit upon the mountain of Samaria, and they that dwell among
the Philistines, and that foolish people that dwell in Sichem " (Ecclus. 1. 25, 26).

176 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Our Lord is not deterred by the hard literalism of her reply ; He
treats it as He had treated similar unimaginative dulness in the learned
Nicodemus, by still drawing her thoughts upward, if possible, to a
higher region. She was thinking of common water, of which he
who drinketh would thirst again ; but the water He spake of was a
fountain within the Heart, which -quenched all thirst for ever, and
sprang up unto eternal life.1
She becomes the suppliant now. He had asked her a little favor,
which she had delayed, or half declined; He now offers her an
eternal gift. She sees that she is in some great Presence, and begs
for this living water, but again with the same unspiritual narrowness
— she only begs for it that she might thirst no more, nor come there
to draw.
But enough was done for the present to awake and to instruct this
poor stranger, and abruptly breaking off this portion of the conversa
tion, Jesus bids her call her husband and return. All that was in
His mind when He uttered this command we" cannot tell ; it may
have been because the immemorial decorum of the East regarded it
as unbecoming, if not as positively wrong, for any man, and above
all for a Rabbi, to hold conversation with a strange woman ; it may
have been also to break a stony heart, to awake a sleeping con
science. For she was forced to answer that she had no husband, and
our Lord, in grave confirmation of her sad confession, unbared to her
the secret of a loose and wanton life. She had had five husbands,
and he whom she now had was not her husband."
She saw that a Prophet was before her, but from the facts of her
own history — on which she is naturally anxious to linger as little as
possible — her eager mind fiies to the one great question which was
daily agitated with such fierce passion between her race and that of
Him to whom she spake, and which lay at the root of the savage
animosity with which they treated each other. Chance had thrown
her into the society of a great Teacher : was it not a good opportunity
to settle for ever the immense discussion between Jews and Samari
tans as to whether Jerusalem or Gerizim was the holy place of Pales
tine — Jerusalem, where Solomon had built his temple ; or Gerizim,
1 Cf. Isa. xii. 3. The water is always there; what is wanting is the sacred
thirst. " Ubi sitis recurrit, hominis, non aquae defectus est." 149 (Bengel.)
2 Keim, and many others, think it indisputable that this is an allegorical refer
ence to the five religions brought by the Asiatic settlers into Samaria, and the
hybrid Jehovism into which they were merged! Strange that an allusion so
superfluously dim should have been made at all ! If the Gospels were only in
telligible to those who could guess the solution of such enigmas, the study of
them might well be discredited altogether.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 177
the immemorial sanctuary^ where Joshua had uttered the blessings,
and where Abraham had been ready to offer up his son ? ¦ Pointing
to the summit of the mountain towering eight hundred feet above
them, and crowned by the ruins of the ancient temple of Manasseh,
which Hyrcanus had destroyed, she put her dubious question, " Our
fathers worshipped in this mountain, and ye say that Jerusalem is the
place where men ought to worship ? " "
Briefly, and merely by way of parenthesis, He resolved her imme
diate problem. As against the Samaritans, the Jews were unques
tionably right. Jerusalem was the place which God had chosen ;
compared to the hybrid and defective worship of Samaria, Judaism
was pure and true ; 3 but before and after touching on the earthly
and temporal controversy, He uttered to her the mighty and mem
orable prophecy, that the hour was coming, yea now was, when
" neither in this mountain nor yet in Jerusalem " should true wor
shippers worship the Father, but in every place should worship Him
in spirit and in truth.
She was deeply moved and touched ; but how could she, at the
mere chance word of an unknown stranger, give up the strong faith in
which she and her fathers had been born and bred % With a sigh
she referred the final settlement of this and of every question to the
advent of the Messiah ; * and then He spake the simple, awful words
— "I that speak unto thee am He."
' Deut. xxvii. 4 (where they read Gerizim). Cf. Gen. xii. 7 ; xxxiii. 18 ; Deut.
xii. 5 ; xi. 29. See Stanley, Sinai and Palestine, pp. 236, 250, &c, ed. 1866 ; and
the remarkable story in Jos. Antt. xviii. 4, § 1.
2 Gen. xii. 6 ; xxxiii. 18, 20 ; Jos. Antt. xi. 8, § 4. Some have seen in the
woman's question a mere desire to " turn the conversation," and to avoid the per
sonal and searching topics to which it seemed likely to lead. Although there is
no sign that her conscience was sufficiently moved to make this likely, we may
doubtless see in what she says the common phenomenon of an intense interest in
speculative and party questions combined with an utter apathy respecting moral
¦ obedience. 3 John iv. 22, " We worship what we know ; for salvation is of the Jews " (Isa.
ii. 3 ; compare the phrase of Tacitus, preserved in Sulp. Severus, " Christianos ex
Judaeis exstitisse " 150). It has been pointed out that such a sentence could not
conceivably have been written by the Asiatic Gnostic to whom the school of Baur
attribute the Fourth Gospel. " The jj/UEzi is remarkable as being the only instance
of our Lord thus speaking. . . The nearest approach to it is Matt. xv. 24, 26 "
(Alford). Josephus preserves the striking fact that, down to the time of Alexan
der, the Temple on Gerizim had no name (dvaovvfiov ispdv, Antt. xii. 5, § 5).
The Samaritans actually proposed to Antiochus Epiphanes that it should be dedi
cated to Jupiter Hellenius.
4 The Messianic hopes of the Samaritans were founded, not on the Prophets
(whom they rejected), but on such passages as Gen. xlix. 10 ; Numb. xxiv. 17 ;
23

178 • THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
His birth had been first revealed by night to a few unknown and
ignorant shepherds ; the first full, clear'announcement by Himself of
His own Messiahship was made by a well-side in the weary noon to
a. single obscure Samaritan woman. And to this poor, sinful, igno-.
rant stranger had been uttered words of immortal significance, to
which all future ages would listen, as it were, with hushed breath
and on their knees.
Who would have invented, who would have merely imagined,
things so unlike the thoughts of man as these ? 1
And here the conversation was interrupted; for the disciples —
and among them he who writes the record — returned to their Mas
ter. Jacob's well is dug on elevated ground, on a spur of Gerizim,
and in a part of the plain unobstructed and unshaded by trees or
buildings. From a distance in that clear ah- they had seen and had
heard their Master in long and earnest conversation with a solitary
figure. He a Jew, He a Rabbi, talking to " a woman," and that
woman a Samaritan, and that Samaritan a sinner ! " Yet they dared
not suggest anything to Him ; they dared not question Him. The
sense of His majesty, the love and the faith His very presence
breathed, overshadowed all minor doubts or wondering curiosities.
Meanwhile the woman, forgetting even her water-pot in her impet
uous amazement, had hurried to the city with her wondrous story.

Deut. xviii. 15. That they had hopes of a character more or less Messianic is
independently proved by Jos. Antt. xviii. 4, § 1 ; and both Simon Magus and
Dositheus may fairly be regarded as false Messiahs. Yet Sir R. Hanson (Jesus of
History, pp. 82 — 85) relies on the supposed absence of Messianic expectations in
Samaria as one argument against the genuineness of the Fourth Gospel (see
Sanday, p. 88). It is true that the Tirithaba impostor is not said by Josephus
(I. c.) to have called himself a Christ ; but this silence would prove little. Ewald
(Gesch. Ghrist. 174, 349) seems to feel a needless difficulty here. If Hausrath
(Neutest. Zeitgesch.) were right in dating the disturbance about this time, the
woman's remark would be still more natural ; but probably this event was six or
seven years after this date.
1 A somewhat similar story occurs in the life of Ananda, the favorite disciple of
Buddha ; but I feel a strong conviction that some of these Buddhist stories are
simply distorted echoes of the Gospel interpolated into the Lalita Vistara (see
Beal's Travels of Fah Hian and SungYun, pp. lxxii., lxxiii.), and that others are
merely accidental resemblances.
5 John iv. 27, on /nsra yvvaixol iXdXsi, " that he was talking with a (not
the) woman." To talk with a woman in public was one of the six things which a
Rabbi might not do (BerachSth, fol. 43 b; Schwab, p. 404) ; even, adds R. Hisda,
with his own wife. Here we have a curious accidental analogy between Pharisa
ism and Buddhism. In iheVinaya a Bhikshu is not only forbidden to look at or
speak to a woman, but he may not hold out his hand to his own mother if she be
drowning! (Wilson, Essays on the Rel. of the Hindus, i. 360.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 179
Here was One who had revealed to her the very secrets of her life.
Was not this the Messiah ?
The Samaritans — in all the Gospel notices of whom we detect
something simpler and more open to conviction than in the Jews —
instantly flocked out of the city at her words, and while they were
seen approaching,1 the disciples urged our Lord to eat, for the hour of
noon was now past, and He had had a weary walk. But all hunger
had been satisfied in the exaltation of His ministry, "/have food to
eat," He said, " which ye know not." Might they not have under
stood that, from childhood upwards, He had not lived by bread alone ?
But again we find the same dull, hard, stolid literalism. Their Scrip
tures, the very idiom in which they spoke, were full of vivid meta
phors, yet they could hit on no deeper explanation of His meaning
than that perhaps some one had brought Him something to eat."
How hard must it have been for Him thus, at every turn, to find
even in His chosen ones such a strange incapacity to see that material
images were but the vehicles for deep spiritual thoughts. But there
was no impatience hi Him who was meek and lowly of heart. " My
meat," He said, "is to do the will of 'Him that sent me, and to finish
His work." And then pointing to the inhabitants of Sieheni. as they
streamed to Him over the plain, he continued, " You talk of there
being yet four months to harvest. Look at these fields, white already
for the spiritual harvest. Ye shall be the joyful reapers of the har
vest which I thus have sown in toil and pain ; but I, the sower,
rejoice in the thought of that joy to come." 3
The personal intercourse with Christ convinced many of these
Samaritans far more deeply than the narrative of the woman to whom
He had first revealed Himself; and graciously acceding to their
request that He. would stay with them, He and His disciples abode
there two days. Doubtless it was the teaching of those two days
that had a vast share in the rich conversions of a few subsequent
years.4 ' John iv. 30, iqijXBov — fipxovro.
' For similar literal misconstructions see John ii. 20 ; iii. 4 ; iv. 11 ; vi. 42 — 52 ;
Matt. xvi. 6 ; Mark viii. 15. We shall meet with the metaphor again, and even
the Rabbis said, " The just eat of the glory of the Shechinah," and that Moses in
Horeb was fed by the music of the spheres (Philo, De Somn., i. 6).
3 Josh. xxiv. 13. We have already seen that no certain note of time can be
drawn from this allusion ; He " in whom is no before or after " might also have
seen by imagination the whitening harvest in the springing corn.
4 Acts viii. 5.

180 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XVI.
rejected by the nazakenes.
oi iSioi avrov ov itapsXa/3ov.ui — John i. 11.
Up to this point of the sacred narrative we have followed the chro
nological guidance of St. John, and here, for the first time, we are
seriously met by the difficult question as to the, true order of events
in our Lord's ministry.
Is it or is it not possible to construct a harmony of the Gospels
which shall remove all the difficulties created by the differing order
in which the Evangelists narrate the same events, and by the con
fessedly fragmentary character of their records, and by the general
vagueness of the notes of time which- they give, even when such notes
are not wholly absent ?
It is, perhaps, a sufficient answer to this question that scarcely any
two authorities agree in the schemes which have been elaborated for
the purpose. A host of writers, in all Christian nations, have devoted
years — some of them have devoted well-nigh their whole lives — to
the consideration of this and of similar questions, and have yet failed
to come to any agreement or to command any general consent.
To enter into all the arguments, on both sides, about the numerous
disputed points which must be settled before the problem can be
solved, would be to undertake a task which would fill many volumes,
would produce no final settlement of the difficulty, and would be
wholly beyond the purpose before us. What I have done is carefully
to consider the chief data, and without entering into controversy or
pretending to remove all possible objections, to narrate the events in
that order which, after repeated study, seems to be the most intrinsic
ally probable, with due reference to all definite indications of time
which the Gospels contain. An indisputable or convincing harmony
of the Gospels appears to me to be impossible, and as a necessary
consequence it can be of no absolute importance. Had it been essen
tial to our comprehension of the Saviour's life that we should know
more exactly the times and places where the years of His public min
istry were spent, the Christian at least will believe that such knowl
edge would not have been withheld from us.
The inspiration which guided the Evangelists in narrating the life

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 181
of Christ was one which enabled them to tell all that was necessary
for the peace and well-being of our souls, but very far from all which
we might have yearned to know for the gratification of our curiosity,
or even the satisfaction of our historic interest. Nor is it difficult to
see herein a fresh indication that our thoughts must be fixed on the
spiritual more than on the material — on Christ who liveth for ever
more, and is with us always, even to the end of the world, far more
than on the external incidents of that human life which, in the coun
cil of God's will, was the appointed means of man's redemption. We
shall never know all that we could wish to know about
" The sinless years
That breathed beneath the Syrian blue."
but we shall still be the children of God and the disciples of His
Christ if we keep His sayings and do the things which He com
manded. St. John tells us that after two days' abode among the open-
minded Samaritans of Sychar, Jesus went into Galilee, "for He
himself testified that a prophet hath no honor in his own country,"
and yet he continues, that, " When he was come into Galilee, the
Galilseans received him, having seen all the things that He did at
Jerusalem at the feast ; " and he adds, immediately afterwards, that
Jesus came again into Cana of Galilee, and there healed the noble
man's son. The perplexing " for " seems to point to one of those
suppressed trains of thought which are so frequent in St. John. I
understand it to mean that at Nazareth, in his own home, rejection
awaited Him in spite of the first gleam of transient acceptance; and
that for this rejection He was not unprepared, for it was one of His
distinct statements that "in His own country a Prophet is dis
honored." !
1 John iv. 43 — 45. The "for " seems at first sight to involve a contradiction,
nor is it possible to make it mean " although." Some suppose the meaning to be
that " He did not go to his own country, Nazareth, but to Cana and Capernaum " —
which were in Upper Galilee, to which alone the name Galilee was properly
applied (cf. Luke iv. 31 ; Matt. iv. 13, 15 ; Jos. De Bell. Jud. iii. 3, § 1) — "for,"
&c. And accordingly the Galilceans, properly so called, received Him. [But this
would make the xaraXm gov of Matt. iv. 13 = napaXmadv.] Possibly, however
the particle may refer (as I have stated in the text) to a thought unexpressed in
the writer's mind — viz., either that the reason why he had declared himself first
in Judaea, was that a prophet has no honor in his own country ; or that " He was
not unaware of the opposition which would await Him, for He knew that a
prophet is least honored among his own." The ydp may therefore point mentally
to the very events which St. John omits, but which are narrated or alluded to in
Luke iv. 14 — 30. " The causal connections in the Fourth Gospel," sayB Mr. San-
day (p. 98), " are often perplexing." Origen's solution that by USia TtarpiZ is

182 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
It was not the object of St. John to dwell on the ministry in Gal
ilee, which had been already narrated by the Synoptists ; accordingly
it is from St. Luke that we receive the fullest account of our Lord's
first public act in His native town.1
It appears that Jesus did not go direct from Sychar to Nazareth.
On His way (unless we take Luke iv. 15 for a general and unchro-
nological reference) He taught continuously, and with general admira
tion and acceptance, in the synagogues of Galilee." In this way He
arrived at Nazareth, and according to His usual custom, for He had
doubtless been a silent worshipper in that humble place Sabbath after
Sabbath from boyhood upwards, He entered into the synagogue on
the Sabbath day.
There was but one synagogue in the little town,3 and prob
ably it resembled in all respects, except in its humbler aspect and
materials, the synagogues of which we see the ruins at Tell Hum
and Irbid. It was simply a rectangular hall, with a pillared por
tico of Grecian architecture, of which the further extremity (where
the "sanctuary" was placed) usually pointed toAvards Jerusalem,
which, since the time of Solomon, had always been the kibleh — i.- e.,
the consecrated direction — of a Jew's worship, as Mecca is of a
Mohammedan's. In wealthier places it was built of white marble,
and sculptured on the outside in alto-relievo, with rude ornaments of
vine-leaves and grapes, or the budding rod and pot of manna.4 On

meant Judaea, is wholly unsatisfactory. That Christ did not twice preach at Naza
reth under circumstances so closely analogous, I regard as certain, and that is my
reason for considering that Matt. xiii. 53 — 58; Mark vi. 1 — 6, refer to this same
event, narrated out of its proper order.
1 Luke iv. 14 — 30. There may possibly (but not certainly) be some unchronolog-
ical reminiscences of this visit to Nazareth in Matt. xiii. 54 — 58 ; Mark vi. 2 — 6.
"¦ Luke iv. 15, iSiSadxEv . . So^a^o/xEvoi. The old name for a synagogue
was Beth Tephillah, or " House of Prayer ; " but they are now called Beth Hak-
Keneseth, " House of Assembly." The hours of meeting were the 3d (shacarith),
the 6th (mincha), and the 9th (ardbith) — i. e., 9, 12, and 3. (Buxt. De Synag. Jud.,
ch. x., p. 219, ed. 1661.) Without consulting the Latin treatises of Buxtorl
Vitringa, &c. , the reader may find many of the most interesting facts about syna
gogues in the admirable articles on them by Prof. Plumptre (Smith's Diet, of the
Bible) and Dr. Ginsburg (Kitto's Bible Cyclop.).
3 Luke iv. 16, Eii rrjv dwayGoyrfv.
4 These emblems were found on the broken slab of the architrave which once
stood over the door of the synagogue at Capernaum (Tell HCim). They have no
pretence to architectural beauty ; " le go fit en est assez mesquin" 16! (Renan, Vie
de Jesus, p. 82, ed. pop.). For the reason of the kibleh, see 1 Kings viii. 29 ; Dan.
vi. 10. The orientation does not now seem to be very carefully attended to, for
Mr. Monro tells me that in Algiers the reader's pulpit in the synagogues may
look north, east, or south — only not west.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 183
entering there were seats on one side for the men ; on the other,
behind a lattice, were seated the women, shrouded in their long veils.
At one end was the tebhah or ark of painted wood, which contained
the sacred- scriptures ; and at one side was the bima, or elevated seat
for the reader or preacher.1 Clergy, properly speaking, there were
none, but in the chief seats were the ten or more batlanirn, " men of
leisure," or leading elders ; " and pre-eminent among these the chief
of the synagogue,3 or rdsh hak-keneseth. Inferior in rank to these
were the chazsdn," or clerk, whose duty it was to keep the sacred
books ; the sheliach, corresponding to our sacristan or verger ; and
the parnasim, or shepherds, who in some respects acted as deacons.
The service of the synagogue was not unlike our own. After the
prayers " two lessons were always read, one from the Law called para-
shah, and one from the Prophets called haphtarah ; and as there
were no ordained ministers to conduct the services — ¦ for the office of
priests and Levites at Jerusalem was wholly different ¦ — these les
sons might not only be read by any competent person who received
permission from the rSsh hak-keneseth, but he was even at liberty to
add his own midrash, or comment."
The reading of the parashah, or lesson from the Pentateuch, was
apparently over ' when Jesus ascended the steps of the bima. Recog
nizing his claim to perform the honorable function of a maphtir or
reader, the chazzdn drew aside the silk curtain of the painted ark
which contained the sacred manuscripts, and handed Him the megillah
or roll of the Prophet Isaiah, which contained the haphtarah of the
day.3 Our Lord unrolled the volume, and found the well-known
1 The Jews borrowed the word hdu from the Greek (but compare Neh. viii. 4 ;
ix. 4).
'' itpedfivTEpoi (Luke vii. 3); called also zekenim (o>ipi). Their " chief seats"
(Mark xii. 39, &c.) were placed in front of the ark, and facing the congregation.
In the synagogue at Alexandria were seventy-one golden arm-chairs, or seats of
honor, for doctors and honorable men (Ginsburg, I. c).
5 dpxidvvdyGoyoi (Mark v. 22, &c).
* virrjpirriS (Luke iv. 20).
5 For the prayers, which consisted of the Hymnal group, the Shema, the 18
Berachoth, or Benedictions, &c, see a full account in Ginsburg, I. c.
6 See, for these .particulars, Surenhusius, Mishna, pp. 339, seqq. ; Capecelatro,
Vita di Gesu Cristo, i. 153 ; Keim, Gesch. Jesu, ii. 20. — Often the interpreter or
expounder was a different person from the maphtir, or reader. The Torah rolls
are now usually adorned with the ets eJiajim, or " tree of life " (Frankl, Jews in
the East, ii. 17).
' This may, perhaps, be implied in the word iiiESoBr), was handed to him in
addition. (Wordsworth.)
5 It appears that the Prophecy of Isaiah was generally written on a separate
megillah. It would be necessary to find the place, because the scroll of the

184 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
passage in Isaiah lxi. The whole congregation stood up to listen to
Him. The length of the haphtarah might be from three to twenty
one verses, but Jesus only read the first and part of the second ; '
stopping short, in a spirit of tenderness, before the stern expression,
" The day of vengeance of our God," so that the gracious words,
" The acceptable year " of the Lord," might rest last upon their ears
and form the text of His discourse. He then rolled up the megillah,
handed it back to the chazzdn, and, as was customary among the
Jews, sat down to deliver His sermon.3
The passage which He had read, whether part of the ordinary les
son for the day or chosen by himself,4 was a very remarkable one,
and it must have derived additional grandeur and solemnity from the
lips of Him in whom it was fulfilled. Every eye in the synagogue
Prophets had only one roller, the Law had two ; and " every hebdomadal lesson is
unrolled from the right roller, and rolled on the left Hence, when the scroll of
the Law is opened on the next Sabbath, the portion appointed for the day is at
once found." (Ginsburg, s. v. " Haphtarah," Kitto's Cyclop, ii. 224.)
1 Probably it would be read in Hebrew, but translated by the methurgeman
(' ' interpreter ") either into Aramaic, which was then the vernacular of Palestine ;
or into Greek, which at that time seems to have been generally understeod and
spoken throughout the country. The passage, as given in St. Luke, agrees mainly
with the LXX. or Greek version ; but (as is almost invariably the case in the New
Testament quotations from the Old Testament) with some remarkable differences.
The deviations from the Hebrew original are at first sight considerable, though
the main conception is the same. I do not know of any book where the reader
will find a clearer and briefer comparison of the New Testament quotations with
the original, with some explanation of the divergences between them, than in
Mr. Turpie's Old Testament in the New (Williams and Norgate, 1868). Without
binding myself by all Mr. Turpie's conclusions, I have found his book very useful.
2 This expression led to the mistaken tradition of some Fathers [Clem. Alex.
Strom, i., p. 147 ; Orig., De Princ. iv. 5 ; Tert. C. Jud. 8 ; Lactant. Instt. Div. iv.
10 ; Aug. De Civ. Dei, xviii. 54 ; together with the Valentinians and the Alogi
(see Hase, Leben Jesu, p. 21 ; Gieseler, Ch. Hist. i. 2, 10, &c.)] that our Lord's min
istry lasted but for a single year. Some refer them to that great and beautiful
section of His life known as " the Galilaeau year." Iu all probability the expres
sion "year" is merely general. Mr. Browne, in his Ordo Saeclorum, argues
powerfully for the limitation of our Lord's ministry to a year ; but the three
passovers distinctly mentioned by St. John (without a single important variation
in any MS., or version, or quotation by the Fathers in vi. 4) seem conclusive on
the other side (John ii. 13 ; vi. 4 ; xi. 55) ; and this was the view of Melito, St.
Hippolytus, St. Jerome, &c. (See Hase, ubi supra; Westcott, Introd. to Gosp.,
p. 266.)
3 This was our Lord's usual attitude when teaching (Matt. v. 1 ; Mark xiii. 3,
&c). Probably the audience, as well as the reader, stood at any rate during the
reading of the Law (Neh. viii. 5). (Frankl, ubi supr.) The sermon was called
derash (Xoyoi itapaxX^dEaoi, Acts xiii. 15).
4 It appears that this was admissible in the case of the lesson from the
Prophets, though no one might select a passage alternative for the parashah.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 185
was fixed upon Him with a gaze of intense earnestness,1 and we may
imagine the thrill of awful expectation and excitement which passed
through the hearts of the listeners, as, in a discourse of which the
subject only is preserved for us by the Evangelist, He developed the
theme that He was Himself the Messiah, of whom the great Prophet
had sung 700 years before." His words were full of a grace, an author
ity, a power which was at first irresistible, and which commanded
the involuntary astonishment of all. But as He proceeded He became
conscious of a change. The spell of His wisdom and sweetness 3
was broken, as these rude and violent Nazarenes began to realize the
full meaning of His divine claims. It was customary with the Jews
in the worship of their synagogue to give full vent to their feelings,
and it was not long before Jesus became sensible of indignant and
rebellious murmurs. He saw that those eager glittering eyes, which
had been fixed upon Him in the first excitement of attention, were
beginning to glow with the malignant light of jealousy and hatred.
" Is not this the carpenter ? is he not the brother of workmen like
himself — James and Joses and Simon and Judas — and of sisters
who live among us? do not even his own family disbelieve in him?" 4
Such were the whispers which began to be buzzed about among the
audience. This was no young and learned Rabbi " from the schools of
Gamaliel or Shammai, and yet he spoke with an authority which not
even the great scribes assumed ! Even a Hillel, when his doctrines failed
to persuade, could only secure conviction by appealing to the previous
authority of a Shemaia or an Abtalion. But this teacher appealed to
no one — this teacher who had but been their village carpenter!
What business had he to teach? Whence could he know letters.
having never learned ? '
Jesus did not leave unobserved the change which was passing over
(Lightfoot, Hot. Hebr.,, ad Luke iv. 16). In the list of Sabbatic and festival par-
shidth and haphiaroth, Isa. lxi. 1 does not occur ; but Isa. lxi. 10 — Ixiii. 9 was read
on the 51st Sunday of the year (Ginsburg, s. v. " Haphtara ; " Kitto, Bib. Cycl. ;
Deutsch, Bible Diet. iii. 1639 a).
1 Luke iv. 20, tfdav drEviZ,ovTEi avrao.
2 Luke iv. 18, sv evexev i'xpidE p.E. " M'a messianisSe " (Salvador, Jesus
Christ et sa Doctrine).
3 Cf. Ps. xiv. 2.
4 Matt. xiii. 57, " and in his own house.'.' Cf . John vii. 5 ; Mark iii. 21 ; Matt.
xiii. 56.
5 The title, together with that of " teacher," was, however, freely allowed to
Christ even by his enemies (Matt. viii. 19 ; xii. 38 ; xxii. 16; xxiii. 7, &c).
6 Jer. Pesach., f. 33, 1 ; Derenbourg, Hist. Pal. 177, seqq. ; Keim, Gesch. Jes. ii.
12. Cf. John vii. 15, &c.
24

186 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the feelings of His audience.1 He at once told them that He was
the Jesus whom they described, and yet with no abatement of His
Messianic grandeur. Their hardness and unbelief had already
depressed His spirit before He had even entered the synagogue.
The implied slur on the humility of His previous life He passes by ;
it was too essentially provincial and innately vulgar to need correc
tion, since any Nazarene of sufficient honesty might have reminded
himself of the yet humbler origin of the great herdsman Amos. Nor
would He notice the base hatred which weak and bad men always
contract for those who shame them by the silent superiority of noble
lives. But He was aware of another feeling in their minds ; a
demand upon Him for some stupendous vindication of His claims ;
-a jealousy that He should have performed miracles at Cana, and
given an impression of His power at Capernaum," to say nothing of
what He had done and taught at Jerusalem — and yet that He should
have vouchsafed no special mark of His favor among them. He
knew that the taunting and sceptical proverb, " Physician, heal thy
self," was in their hearts, and all but on their lips.3 But to show
them most clearly that He was something more than they — that He
was no mere Nazarene like any other who might have lived among
them for thirty years, and that He belonged not to them but to the
world4 — He reminds them that miracles are not to be limited by
geographical relationships — that Elijah had only saved the Phoeni
cian widow of Sarepta, and Elisha only healed the hostile leper of
Syria. What then ? were they in His estimation (and He but " the car
penter !") no better than Gentiles and lepers ? This was the climax
of all that was intolerable to them, as coming from a fellow-townsman
1 " The village beggarly pride of the Nazarenes cannot at all comprehend the
humility of the Great One " (Stier, Reden Jesu, E. Tr., iii. 446). Their remark
savors of the notions of Shammai, who (in opposition to Hillel) held that no one
ought even to be admitted into a school unless he was of good family and rich
(Abhdth de Rabbi Nathan, ii.).
2 These are unrecorded if our order is right ; but remarkable instances of teach
ing and of powers quite sufficient to establish a strong expectation — especially
when taken in connection with the miracle at Cana — may have occurred in the
short interval mentioned in John ii. 12. Even at Nazareth it seems that some
slight acts of healing, hardly regarded, as miracles, had been performed (Mark vi.
5 ; Matt. xiii. 58). More than this He neither could nor would perform amid a
faithless and hostile population.
3 The proverb finds its analogy in all nations. It was afterwards addressed to
Christ upon the cross.
4 It has been conjectured that His recent favorable reception at Sychar would
tend to prejudice.the Nazarenes against Him.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 187
whom they wished to rank among themselves ; and at these words
their long-suppressed fury burst into a flame. The speaker was no
longer interrupted by a murmur of disapprobation, but by a roar of
wrath. With one of those bursts of sanguinary excitement which
characterized that strange, violent, impassioned people — a people
whose minds are swept by storms as sudden as those which in one
moment lash into fury the mirror surface of their lake — they rose
in a body,1 tore Him out of the city, and then dragged Him to the
brow of the hill above. The little town of Nazareth nestles in the
southern hollows of that hill ; many a mass of precipitous rock lies
imbedded on its slopes, and it is probable that the hill-side may have
been far more steep and precipitous two thousand years ago." To
one of these rocky escarpments they dragged Him, in order to fling
Him headlong down.
But TTis hour was not yet come, and they were saved from the
consummation of a crime which would have branded them with
everlasting infamy. " He passed through the midst of them, and
went on his way." There is no need to suppose an actual miracle ;
still less to imagine a secret and sudden escape into the narrow and
tortuous lanes of the town. Perhaps His silence, perhaps the calm
nobleness of His bearing, perhaps the 'dauntless innocence of His
gaze overawed , them. Apart from anything supernatural, there
seems to have been in the presence of Jesus a spell of mystery and
of majesty which even His most ruthless and hardened enemies
acknowledged, and before which they involuntarily bowed. It was
to this that He owed His escape when the maddened Jews in the
Temple took up stones to stone Him ; it was this that made the bold
and bigoted officers of the Sanhedrin unable to arrest Him as He
taught in public during the Feast of Tabernacles at Jerusalem ; it
was this that made the armed band of His enemies, at His mere look,
fall before Him to the ground in the Garden of Gethsemane. Sud
denly, quietly He asserted His freedom, waved aside His captors,
! Luke iv. 28, ticX-^dBr/dav icdvrsS Bvfiov, x. r. X. Cf. Acts xxii. 22 ; xxviii. 25.
2 Karaxprjuvidai. The word occurs nowhere else in the New Testament or
the LXX., except in 2 Chron. xxv. 12. Karaxprf/ivid/udi was one form of ston
ing, which was the recognized legal punishment, for blasphemy. The scene of
this event was certainly not the " Mount of Precipitation," which was much
beyond a Sabbath-day's journey, being at least two miles off. It may have been
the cliff above the Maronite Church, which is about forty feet high. When I was at
Nazareth, my horse was hurt, and might easily have been killed, by sliding down
a huge mass of rock on the hill-side. What criminal would be hurt by a fall from
the Tarpeian rock in its present condition ?

188 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
and overawing them by His simple glance, passed through their
midst unharmed. Similar events have occurred in history, and con
tinue still to occur. There is something in defenceless and yet daunt
less dignity that calms even the fury of a mob. "They stood —
stopped — inquired — were ashamed — fled — separated." '
And so He left them, never apparently to return again ; never,
if we are right in the view here taken, to preach again in their little
synagogue. Did any feelings of merely human regret weigh down His
soul while He was wending His weary steps " down the steep hill-slope
towards Cana of Galilee ? Did any tear start in His eyes unbidden
as He stood, perhaps for the last time, to gaze from thence on the
rich plain of Esdraelon, and the purple heights of Carmel, and the
white sands that fringe the blue waters of the Mediterranean ? Were
there any from whom He grieved to be severed, in the green secluded
valley where His manhood had labored, and His childhood played ?
Did He cast one longing, lingering glance at the humble home in
which for so many years He had toiled as the village carpenter ?
Did no companion of His innocent boyhood, no friend of His sinless
youth, accompany Him with awe, and pity, and regret ? Such ques
tions are not, surely, unnatural ; not, surely, irreverent ; — but they
are not answered. Of all merely human emotions of His heart,
except so far as they directly affect His mission upon earth, the Gos
pels are silent.' We know only that henceforth other friends awaited
him away from boorish Nazareth, among the gentle and noble-hearted
fishermen of Bethsaida ; and that thenceforth His home, so far as
He had a home, was in the little city of Capernaum, beside the sunlit
waters of the Galilsean Lake.
1 Pfenninger, quoted by Stier, iii. 451. Cf. John vii. 30, 46 ; viii. 59 ; x. 39 ;
xviii. 6. — Some of my readers may be aware of an instance in which a clergy
man, still living, walked untouched through the very midst of a brutal and furious
London mob, who had assembled for the express purpose of insulting and assault
ing him. It was observed by more than one spectator, that if he had wavered for
a single instant, or shown the slightest sign of fear and irresolution, he would in
all probability have been struck down, and possibly have not escaped with his life.
2 Luke iv. 30, iitopsvETO.
8 Whole volumes must lie concealed in that memorable allusion of Heb. ii. 18
(tcetcovBev avrds xsipadBeiS1*3) and iv. 15 (iCEicsipauevov xard itdvra xaB>
ouo%6rr)Ta, x. r. A..164).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. \§$

CHAPTER XVII.
THE BEGINNING OF THE GALILEAN MINISTRY.
TtTooxoi EvayyEXiX,ovrai.lm — Matt. xi. 5.
Rejected at Nazareth, our Lord naturally turned to the neigh
boring Cana, where His first miracle had been wrought to gladden
friends. He had not long arrived when an officer from the neigh
boring court of Herod Antipas, hearing of His arrival, came and
urgently entreated that He would descend to Capernaum and heal
his dying son. Although our Lord never set foot in Tiberias, yet the
voice of John had more than once been listened to with alarm and
reverence in the court of the voluptuous king.1 We know that Man-
aen, the foster-brother of Herod, was in after days a Christian, and
we know that among the women who ministered to Christ of their
substance was Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward." As this
corn-tier (fiasikiv-oi) believed in Christ with his whole house, in con
sequence of the miracle now wrought, it has been conjectured with
some probability that it was none other than Chuza himself.
The imperious urgency of his request, a request which appears at
first to have had but little root in spiritual conviction, needed a
momentaiy check. It was necessary for Jesus to show that He was
no mere hakeem, no mere benevolent physician, ready at any time to
work local cures, and to place His supernatural powers at the beck
and call of any sufferer who might come to Him as a desperate
resource. He at once rebuked the spirit which demanded mere signs
and prodigies as the sole possible ground of faith.3 But yielding to
the father's passionate earnestness, He dismissed him with the assur-
1 In the general obscurity of the chronology, it seems clear (as we have said
before) that by this time John had been cast into prison (Matt. iv. 12, 13 ; Mark i.
14 ; Luke iii. 20). Comparing these passages of the Synoptists with John iii. 24 ;
iv. 45, and following the order of events given in the text, we may perhaps
assume (though this is not absolutely necessary, v. supr., p. 181, n.) that Galilee
here means Northern Galilee, or Galilee proper.
2 Acts xiii. 1 ; cf. Luke viii. 3.
* ripara. This is a half-disparaging term for miracles, rarely used in the
Gospels, and derived only from the sense of astonishment which they caused

190 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ance that his son lived. The interview had taken place at the seventh
hour — i. e., at one o'clock in the day.1 Even in the short Novem
ber day it would have been still possible for the father to get to
Capernaum ; for if Cana be, as we believe, Kefr Kenna, it is not
more than five hours' distance from Capernaum. But the father's
soul had been calmed by fath in Christ's promise, and he slept that
night at some intermediate spot upon the road." The next day his
slaves met him, and told him that, at the very hour when Jesus had
spoken, the fever had left his son. This was the second time that
Christ had signalized His arrival in Galilee by the performance of a
conspicuous miracle. The position of the courtier caused it to be
widely known, and it contributed, no doubt, to that joyous and enthu
siastic welcome which our Lord received during that bright early period
of His ministry, which has been beautifully called the " Galilagan
spring." 3
At this point we are again met by difficulties in the chronology,
which are not only serious, but to the certain solution of which there
appears to be no clue. If we follow exclusively the order given by
one Evangelist, we appear to run counter to the scattered indications
which may be found in another. That it should be so will cause no
difficulty to the candid mind. The Evangelists do not profess to be
scrupulously guided by chronological sequence. The pictures which
they give of the main events in the life of Christ -are simple and har
monious, and that they should be presented in an informal, and what,
with reference to mere literary considerations, would be called inar
tistic manner, is not only in accordance with the position of the
writers, but is an additional confirmation of our conviction that we are
reading the records of a life which, in its majesty and beauty, infi
nitely transcended the capacities of invention or imagination in the
simple and faithful annalists by whom it was recorded.
It was not, as we have already observed, the object of St. John
to narrate the Galikean ministry, the existence of which he distinctly
implies (vii. 3, 4), but which had already been fully recorded. Cir
cumstances had given to the Evangelist a minute and profound knowl-
1 I here again (v. supr., pp. 131, n., 173, n.) assume that the hours, as mentioned
by St. John, are calculated from sunrise, according to the universal custom of that
day. 2 Perhaps at Lubiyeh, or Hattin.
3 Ewald says that " no one can doubt " as to the identity of this incident with
that narrated of the centurion's servant. It is, however, seriously doubted — nay,
entirely disputed — by many of the ablest commentators, from Chrysostom down
to Ebrard and Tischendorf.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 191
edge of the ministry in Judfea, which is by the others presupposed,
though not narrated.' At this point accordingly (iv. 54) he breaks
off, and only continues the thread of his narrative at the return of
Jesus to " a " or " the " feast of the Jews (v. 1). If the feast here
alluded to were the feast of Purim, as we shall see is probably the
case, then St. John here passes over the history of several months.
We fall back, therefore, on the Synoptic Gospels for the events of
the intervening ministry on the shores of Gennesareth. And since
we have often to choose between the order of events as narrated by
the three Evangelists, we must here follow that given by St. Luke,
both because it appears to us intrinsically probable, and because St.
Luke, unlike the two previous Evangelists, seems to have been guided,
so far as his information allowed, by chronological considerations."
It seems then, that after leaving Cana, our Lord went at once to
Capernaum, accompanied apparently by His mother and His brethren,
and made that town His home.3 His sisters were probably married,
and did not leave their native Nazareth; but the dreadful insult
which Jesus had received would have been alone' sufficient to influ
ence His family to leave the place, even if they did not directly share
in the odium and persecution which His words had caused. -Perhaps
the growing alienation between Himself and them may have been
due, in part, to this circumstance. They must have felt, and we
know that they did feel, a deeply-seated annoyance, if, refusing to
' Distinctly, for instance, in Matt. iv. 25 ; xxiii. 37, " how often ; " xix. 1 ; Luke
x. 38 ; &c. ; not to mention the extremely interesting and valuable reading of riji
'IovSaiai ,56 for rrji FaXiXaiai 157 in Luke iv. 44. This reading is found in tf,
B, C L, &c, and in the Coptic version. On the probable character of the
leading, see Caspari, Chronol. Geogr. Einleit., p. 111. If the abrupt transition to
another scene in Luke v. 1 is against it, yet this very circumstance strengthens
the diplomatic evidence in its favor. Spannheim well remarks, " Nihil frequentius
quam quaedam praetermitti ab his, suppleri ab aliis. . . ne vel scriptores sacri
ex compacto scripsisse viderentur, vel lectores uni ab illis, spretis reliquis, haere-
rent" ]68 (Wordsworth on Matt. v. 1).
2 Luke i. 1—3.
3 " His own city " (Matt. ix. 1 ; cf. Matt. xvii. 24). St. Matthew (iv. 15, 16) sees
in this locality of the ministry an idealized fulfilment of Isa. ix. 1. The LXX. is
here loose, and the quotation also differs from the Hebrew ; less so, however, than
might at first sight appear, because the " did more greviously afflict her " of the
English Version (which would • utterly contradict the purport of St. Matthew's
allusion) should be rather, " made heavy," i. e., " honored " (v. supr., pp. 153, 156 ;
see Turpie, p. 226). " Way of the sea," because the great caravan road ran along
its western shore. St. Luke alone calls the Sea of Galilee Xiuvrj, because he
wrote for Gentiles. The Hebrews apply o; to any water (1 Kings xviii. 43 ; Numb.
xxxiv. 11). " Beyond Jordan " perhaps refers to Peraea.

192 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
admit the full awfulness of His mission, and entirely disapproving
the form of its manifestation, they yet felt themselves involved in
hatred and ruin as a direct consequence of His actions. Certain it is
that, although apparently they were living at Capernaum, their home
was not His home. Home, in the strict sense, He had none ; but
the house of which He made ordinary use appears to have been that
which belonged to His chief apostle. It is true that Simon and
Andrew are said to have belonged to Bethsaida, but they may easily
have engaged the use of a house at Capernaum, belonging to Peter's
mother-in-law ; or, since Bethsaida is fittle more than a suburb or part
of Capernaum, they may have actually moved for the convenience
of their Master from the one place to the other.
The first three Evangelists have given us a detailed account of the
Lord's first sabbath at Capernaum, and it has for us an intrinsic inter
est, because it gives us one remarkable specimen of the manner in
which He spent the days of His active ministry. It is the best com
mentary on that epitome of His life which presents it to us in its
most splendid originality — that " He went about doing good." It
is the point which the rarest and noblest of His followers have found
it most difficult to imitate ; it is the point in which His life trans
cended most absolutely the ideal of the attainments of His very
greatest forerunners. The seclusion of the hermit, the self -macera
tion of the ascetic, the rapture of the mystic — all these are easier
and more common than the unwearied toil of a self -renouncing love.
The day began in the synagogue, perhaps in the very building
which the Jews owed to the munificence of the centurion proselyte.
If Capernaum were indeed Tell Hum, then the white marble ruins
which still stand on a little eminence above the sparkling lake, and
still encumber the now waste and desolate site of the town with their
fragments of elaborate sculpture, may possibly be the ruins of this
very building. The synagogue, which is not very large, must have
been densely crowded ; and to teach an earnest and expectant crowd
— to teach as He taught, not in dull, dead, conventional formulae,
but with thoughts that breathed and words that burned — to teach
as they do who are swayed by the emotion of the hour, while heart
speaks to heart ! — must have required no slight energy of life, must
have involved no little exhaustion of the physical powers. But this
was not all. While Pie was speaking, while the audience of simple-
hearted yet faithful, intelligent, warlike people were listening to Him
hi mute astonishment, hanging on His lips with deep and reverential
admiration — suddenly the deep silence was broken by the wild cries
and obscene ravings of one of those unhappy wretches who were

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 193
universally believed to be under the influence of impure spirits, and
who — in the absence of any retreat for such sufferers — had, perhaps,
slipped in unobserved among the throng.1 Even the poor demoniac,
in the depths of his perturbed and degraded nature, had felt the
haunting spell of that pure presence, of that holy voice, of that divine
and illuminating message. But, distorted as his whole moral being
was, he raved against it, as though by the voices of the evil demons
who possessed him, and while he saluted "Jesus the Nazarene" as
the Holy One of God, yet, with agonies of terror and hatred,
demanded to be let alone, and not to be destroyed.
Then followed a scene of thrilling excitement. Turning to the
furious and raving sufferer, recognizing the duality of his conscious
ness, addressing the devil which seemed to be forcing from him these
terrified ejaculations, Jesus said, " Hold thy peace," and come out of
1 Luke iv. 33, " A spirit of an unclean devil," " cried with a loud voice ; " cf.
Mark i. 23. The i'a is, perhaps, not " desist I let us alone I " but a wild cry of
horror, the Hebr. a™* ; so Stier, iii. 378. The Jews, like most ancient nations,
attributed every evil result immediately to the action of demons, e. g., even Noah's
drunkenness. In Ps. xci. 6, the LXX. renders " the destruction that wasteth at
noonday," by fiEdrjp-^pivd Sai/xovia. These mid-day demons are called P"EII,9,
Targ. Cant. iv. 6. If a woman does not cover her head, demons sit upon her hair.
If you do not wash your hands before meals, you become the victim of » demon,
Shibta. " If a bull rushes at you in the field," says the Talmud, " Satan leaps up
from between his horns." All mental aberration, all sudden sickness, all melan
choly tendencies, all unexpected obstacles, were, and in the East still are, regarded
as due to the direct influence of demons (devs). These demons they believed to
be the spirits of the wicked (Jos. B. J. vii. 6, § 3). Such instances of the Jewish
belief might be indefinitely multiplied, and that they shared it with the majority
of mankind may be seen in Mr. E. B. Tylor's Primitive Culture, passim. That
they regarded as demoniacal possession what we regard as epilepsy and mania is
certain. This is indeed clear from the passage of Josephus to which I have just
referred, but the real controversy turns on the question whether much more than
this is not possible, and whether in the days of Christ much more than this was
not a common phenomenon. It is not one of those questions which seem to me
to be of vital importance, and dogmatism on either side must be left to those who
think it necessary. The reader may find the entire question as to the actuality,
or the mere semblance of, and belief in, demoniacal possession, fully argued on
both sides, with much acuteness and impartiality in Jahn, Archaeologia Biblica,
E. Tr., 3rd edn., pp. 200—216.
2 cpiMGoBr/n (Luke iv. 35). A strong word, meaning literally "be thou muz
zled " (cf. Acts xvi. 18). Those who reject the reality of demoniacal possession,
and therefore regard the action as a figurative concession to the sufferers' delu
sions, appeal to such expressions as Matt. viii. 26 ; Luke iv. 39. On this doctrine
of "accommodation," see Suidas s. v. 2vyxard/3adiS; Haag, Hist, des Dogmes,
i. 98. Although it is a principle which has received the sanction of some very
eminent Fathers, it must be applied with the most extreme caution.
25

194 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
him." He never accepted or tolerated this ghastly testimony to His
origin and office. The calm, the sweetness, the power of the divine
utterance were irresistible. The demon fell to the ground in a fear
ful paroxysm, screaming and convulsed. But it was soon over. The
man arose cured ; his whole look and bearing showed that he was
dispossessed of the over-mastering influence, and was now in his
right mind. A miracle so gracious and so commanding had never
before been so strikingly manifested, and the worshippers separated
with emotions of indescribable wonder.'
Rising from the seat of the maphtir in the synagogue, Christ retired
into the house of Simon: Here again he was met by the strong
appeal of sickness and suffering. Simon, whom he had already
bound to Himself on the banks of the Jordan, by the first vague call
to his future Apostolate, was a married man," and his wife's mother
lay stricken down by a violent access of fever.3 One request from
the afflicted family was sufficient : there was no need, as in the case
of the more worldly nobleman, for importunate entreaty.4 He stood
over her ; He took her by the hand ; He raised her up ; He rebuked
the fever ; His voice stirring her whole being, dominated over the
1 It is worth while to set side by side with this an instance of exorcism, such as
was commonly practised by Jews at this very period (cf. Matt. xii. 27 ; Mark
ix. 38 ; Acts xix. 13), the invention of which Josephus attributes to Solomon, and
which he tells us he had himself witnessed. He says that he had seen a Jew
named Eleazar casting out demons in the presence of Vespasian, Titus, their
officers and army. His method was to draw the demoniac out through the nostrils
by a ring and a particular root. Hereupon the man fell down, and Eleazar, with
various incantations and in the name of Solomon, adj ured the demon not to re
turn. And then, in proof that the cure was effectual, he put a basin of water
a little way off, and bade the demon, as he departed, to overturn it ! (Jos. Antt.
viii. 2, § 5). For the root employed see id. B. J. vii. 6, § 3. Josephus was a man
of astute mind and liberal experience, familiar with heathen culture, and a con
stant denizen of courts and camps. The Evangelists, on the other hand, were
simple, untrained, and ignorant men ; yet to what scorn would they have been
subjected — how would their credulity and superstition have been derided — if
they had told the Btory of such an exorcism as this t And if this was the current
mode, we may the better understand the profound sensation caused in the minds
of the spectators by the effect of Christ's simple word.
5 Cf. 1 Cor. ix. 5.
* Luke iv. 38, dvvExoftEvq TtvpErao fiEyaXm.
4 Id. 38, fipGor-qdav (implying a single and instantaneous act), not rfpaora, as
in John iv. 47. A careful comparison of this or any similar narrative in the three
Synoptists (Matt. viii. 14, 15 ; Mark i 29—31 ; Luke iv. 38, 39) will show the
inquirer more clearly the resemblances and the differences in the descriptions of
the same event, than any number of disquisitions. Often it is only by combin
ing the three independent testimonies that we get a clear and graphic picture.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 195
sources of disease, and, restored instantaneously to health, she rose
and busied herseK about the household duties.1
Possibly the strictness of observance which marked the Jewish
Sabbath secured for our Lord a brief interval for refreshment ; but
no sooner did the sun begin to set, than the eager multitude, barely
waiting for the full close of the Sabbath hours, began to seek His
aid. The whole city came densely thronging round the doors of the
humble home, bringing with them their demoniacs and their diseased.
What a strange scene ! There lay the limpid lake, reflecting in pale
rose-color the last flush of sunset that gilded the western hills ; and
here, amid the peace of Nature, was exposed, in hideous variety, the
sickness and misery of man, while the stillness of the Sabbath twi
light was broken by the shrieks of demoniacs who testified to the
Presence of the Son of God."
" A lazar-house it seemed, wherein were laid
Numbers of all diseased ; all maladies i
Of ghastly spasm, and racking tortures, qualms
Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds,
Demoniac phrenzy, moping melancholy
And moonstruck madness; "
and amidst them all, not " Despair
Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch,
And over them triumphant Death his dart
Shook," ....
but far into the deepening dusk, the only person there who was
unexcited and unalarmed — hushing by His voice the delirium of
madness and the screams of epilepsy," touching disease into health
again by laying on each unhappy and tortured 4 sufferer His pure and
gentle hands — moved, in His love and tenderness, the young
Prophet of Nazareth, the Christ, the Saviour of the world. Una
larmed indeed, and unexcited, but not free from sorrow and suffering.
For sympathy is nothing else than a fellow-feeling with others ; a
sensible participation in their joy or woe. And Jesus was touched
with a feeling of their infirmities. Those cries pierced, to His inmost
heart ; the groans and sighs of all that collective misery filled His
1 This is involved in the aorists and imperfects: dvadrada Sit/xovei (Luke
iv. 39), rjyspBr; xai Sir/xovsi (Matt. viii. 15).
2 Luke iv. 40, ddBevavvrai vodoii itoixiXaii.
8 Matt. iv. 24, dsX^viaZofievovS.
4 Matt. iv. 24, fiadavoiS dvvsxo/UEvovi.

196 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
whole soul with pity : He bled for them ; He suffered with them ;
their agonies were His ; so that the Evangelist St. Matthew recalls
and echoes in this place, with a slight difference of language, the
words of Isaiah, " Surely He bore our griefs and carried our sor
rows." l
The fame of that marvellous day rang through all Galilee and
Peraea, and even to the farthest parts of Syria," and we might well
have imagined that the wearied Saviour would have needed a long
repose. But to Him the dearest and best repose was solitude and
silence, where he might be alone and undisturbed with His heavenly
Father. The fittle plain of Gennesareth was still covered with the
deep darkness which precedes the dawn,3 when, unobserved by all, Jesus
rose and went away to a desert place, and there refreshed His spirit
with quiet prayer. Although the work which He was sent to do
obliged Him often to spend His days amid thronging and excited
multitudes, He did not love the tumult, and avoided even the admira
tion and gratitude of those who felt in His presence a spring of life.
But He was not suffered thus to remain, even for a brief period, in
rest and seclusion. The multitude sought Him persistently ; Simon
and his friends almost hunted for Him in their eager desire to see
and to hear. They even wished to detain Him among them by
gentle force.4 But he quietly resisted their importunity. It was not
His object to become the centre of an admiring populace, or to spend
His whole time in working miracles, which, though they were deeds
of mercy, were mainly intended to open their hearts to His diviner
teaching. His blessings were not to be confined to Capernaum.
Dalmanutha, Magdala, Bethsaida, Chorazin were all near at hand.
" Let us go," He said, " to the adjoining country towns " to preach
the kingdom of God there also ; for therefore am I sent."
It is doubtful, however, whether Jesus put His intention into
instant effect. It seems as if He so far yielded to the anxiety of the
multitude as to give them one more address before He set forth to
1 Matt. viii. 17, EXa/3e, ifiddrads; Isa. liii. 4 (cf. avriVEyxev, 1 Pet. ii. 24).
The LXX. reads dixapricti for ddBEvsiai, and makes the sympathy more purely
mental (oSvvdrai itspi rjp.Gov). Though no word of the LXX. is found in St.
Matthew's quotation, yet he gives one of the possible senses of the original.
2 Matt. iv. 24.
* Mark i. 35, itpaoi k'vvvxov Xiav. One of the many little graphic touches,
derived doubtless from the Apostle St. Peter, in which the Gospel of St. Mark
abounds. 4 Luke iv. 42, iics^vrovv, xarslxov ; Mark i. 36, xarsSiGo^av.
8 Mark i. 38, XGopoitoXEii. Cf. Luke iv. 43.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 197
preach in that populous neighborhood.1 He bent His steps towards
the shore, and probably to the spot where the little boats of His
earliest disciples were anchored, near the beach of hard white sand
which lines the water-side at Bethsaida. At a little distance behind
Him followed an ever-gathering concourse of people from all the
neighborhood ; and while He stopped to speak to them, the two pairs
of fisher-brethren, Simon and Andrew, and James and John, pursued
the toils by which they earned their daily bread. While Jesus had
retired to rest for a few short hours of the night, Simon and his com
panions, impelled by the necessities of a lot which they seem to have
borne with noble-minded cheerfulness, had been engaged in fishing ;
and, having been wholly unsuccessful, two of them, seated on the
shore — probably, in that clear still atmosphere, within hearing of His
voice — were occupying their time in washing, and two, seated in
their boat with their hired servants, and Zebedee, their father, were
mending their nets." As 'Jesus spoke, the multitude — some in their
desire to catch every syllable that fell from the lips of Him who
spake as never man spake, and some in their longing to touch Him,
and so be healed of whatever plagues they had — thronged upon
Him closer and closer, impeding His movements with dangerous and
unseemly pressure.3 He therefore beckoned to Simon to get into
his boat and push it ashore, so that He might step on board of it,
and teach the people from thence. Seated in this pleasant pulpit,
safe from the inconvenient contact with the multitude, he taught
them from the little boat as it rocked on the blue ripples, sparkling
in the morning sun. And when His sermon was over, He thought
not of Himself and of His own fatigue, but of His poor and disap-
1 I must again remark that while adopting the order which appears to me most
probable, and which in this part of the narrative is that given by St. Luke, and
is followed (among other eminent authorities) by Lange, repeated examination
has convinced me of the utter impossibility of any certainty about the exact
sequence of events. The data of time are far too vague to admit of definiteness
in the chronological arrangement.
2 I have here attempted to combine, as far as it is possible, in one continuous
narrative, the perfectly comprehensible, but slightly differing accounts of the
Synoptists (Matt. iv. 18 — 22; Mark i. 16 — 20; Luke v. 1 — 11). Let me remark —
(1) that any one whose faith is shaken by the so-called " discrepancies " of these
and similar stories must (a) either hold some very rigid, untenable, and super
stitious view of inspiration, or (b) be wholly unacquainted with the different
aspects assumed by perfectly truthful but confessedly fragmentary testimonies ;
and (2) that the very variety in the narratives, being in no respect inconsistent
with essential and truthful unity, is a valuable proof of the independence of the
Gospel witnesses.
3 See Mark iii. 9—12.

198 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
pointed disciples. He knew that they had toiled in vain ; He had
observed that even while he spoke they had been preparing for some
future and more prosperous expedition ; and with a sympathy which
never omitted an act of kindness, He ordered Peter to push out his
boat into the deep, and all of them to cast out their nets once more.1
Peter was in a despondent mood ; but the mere word of One whom
he so deeply reverenced, and whose power he had already witnessed,
was sufficient. And his faith was rewarded. Instantly a vast haul
of fishes crowded into the nets.
A busy scene followed. The instinct of work first prevailed.
Simon and Andrew beckoned to Zebedee and his sons and servants to
come in their boat and help to save the miraculous draught and strain
ing nets ; both boats were filled to the gunwale with the load ; and
at the first moment that the work was finished, and Peter recognized
the whole force of the miracle, he falls, with his usual eager impetu
osity, at his Master's feet — to thank Him ? to offer Him henceforth
an absolute devotion? — No ; but (and here we have a touch of inde
scribable truthfulness, utterly beyond the power of the most consum
mate intellect to have invented) to exclaim, " Depart ebom me, for
I am a sinful man, O Lord ! " " A flash of supernatural illumination
had revealed to him both his own sinful unworthiness and who He
was who was with him in the boat. It was the cry of self-loathing
which had already realized something nobler. It was the first impulse
of fear and amazement, before they had had time to grow into adora
tion and love. St. Peter did not mean the " Depart from me ; " he
only meant — and this was known to the Searcher of hearts — "I am
utterly unworthy to be near Thee, yet let me stay." How unfike
was this cry of his passionate and trembling humility to the bestial
ravings of the unclean spirits, who bade the Lord to let them alone,
or to the hardened degradation of the filthy Gadarenes, who pre
ferred to the presence of their Saviour the tending of their swine !
And how gently the answer came : " Fear not ; from henceforth
thou shalt catch men." Our Lord, as in all His teaching, seized and
applied with exquisite significance the circumstances of the moment.
Round them in the little boat lay in heaps the glittering spoil of the
1 Luke v. 4, iitavdyayE . . . xa^<*daTE.
' It is dvijp duapraoXoS (Luke v. 8), a confession of individual guilt; not
d vBpGoitoi. Comp. Exod. xx. 18, 19 ; Judg. xiii. 22 ; 1 Kings xvii. 18 ; Dan. x. 17 ;
Isa. vi. 5.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 199
lake — glittering, but with a glitter that began to fade in death."
Henceforth that sinful man, washed and cleansed, and redeemed and
sanctified, was to chase, with nobler labor,* a spoil which, by being
entangled in the Gospel net, would not die, but be saved alive." And
his brother, and his partners, they, too, were to become " fishers of
men." This final call was enough. They had already been called
by Jesus on the banks of Jordan ; they had already heard the Bap
tist's testimony ; but they had not yet been bidden to forsake all and
follow Him ; they had not yet grown familiar with the miracles of
power which confirmed their faith ; they had not yet learned fully to
recognize that they who followed Him were not only safe in His
holy keeping, but should receive a thousandfold more in all that con
stitutes true and noble happiness even in this life — in the world to
come, life everlasting.
We have already seen that, at the very beginning of His min
istry, our Lord had prepared six of His Apostles for a call to His
future service ; four of whom were on this occasion bidden not only
to regard Him as their Master, but henceforth to leave all and follow
Him. There was but one oth^r of the Apostles who received a sep
arate call — the Evangelist, St. Matthew. His call, though narrated
in different sequences by each of the Synoptists, probably took place
about this time.3 At or near Capernaum there was a receipt of cus
tom. Lying as the town did at the nucleus of roads which diverged
to Tyre, to Damascus, to Jerusalem, and to Sepphoris, it was a busy
centre of merchandise, and therefore a natural place for the collection
' Hence the extreme frequency of the fish as a symbol of Christians in early
Christian art and literature. " Nos pisciculi secundum ixBvv nostrum ('Ijjdovv
Xpidror ®eov vidv Saor^pa) in aquS (sc. baptism!) nascimur." I59 (Tert. De
Bapt. 1).
2 Luke v. 10, dvBpaoTtov? k'dy ^aoypaov. The word ZooypEiv, from ZgooS and
dypEVGD, means "to take alive ;" see Jos. Antt. xiii. 6, § 2. Those who had
been iX,wypr)ii.ivoi, " taken alive " in the deadly snare (itayiS) of the devil
(2 Tim. ii. 26), should henceforth be gathered in the net of life. " The Fathers,"
says Bishop Wordsworth, " call Peter the dv/ifioXov itpaxrixfji and John the
dvfiftoXov BEmpiai, and infer that the practical must precede the contemplative
life." 3 By St. Matthew himself, after the Sermon on the Mount, the miracle of the
Gadarene demoniacs, and the cure of the man sick of the palsy (ix. 9) ; by St.
Mark, after the cure of the paralytic, but some time before the visit to Gergesa
(ii. 14) ; by St. Luke after the cure of the paralytic, but before the choice of the
Twelve, and before the Sermon on the Mount (v. 27). It seems, however, to have
been the wish of all three to narrate it in immediate connection with the feast
which he gave in Christ's honor ; but it does not follow that the feast was given
immediately after his call.

2()0 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
of tribute and taxes. These imposts were to the Jews pre-eminently
distasteful. The mere fact of having to pay them wounded their
tenderest sensibilities. 'They were not only a badge of servitude;
they were not only a daily and terrible witness that God seemed
to have forsaken His land, and that all the splendid Messianic
hopes and promises of their earlier history were merged in the disas
trous twilight of subjugation to a foreign rule which was cruelly and
contemptuously enforced ; but, more than this, the mere payment of
such imposts wore almost the appearance oi apostasy to the sensitive
and scrupulous mind of a genuine Jew.1 It seemed to be a violation
of the first principles of the Theocracy, such as could only be excused
as the result of absolute compulsion. We cannot, therefore, wonder
that the officers who gathered these taxes were regarded with pro
found dislike. It must be remembered that those with whom the
provincials came in contact were not the Roman knights — the real
publicani, who farmed the taxes — but were the merest subordi
nates, often chosen from the dregs of the people, and so notorious as a
class for their mal-practices, that they were regarded almost with
horror, and were always included in ftie same category with harlots
and sinners. When an occupation is thus despised and detested, it
is clear that its members are apt to sink to the level at which they
are placed by the popular odium. And if a Jew could scarcely per
suade himself that it was right to pay taxes, how much more heinous
a crime must it have been in his eyes to become the questionably-
honest instrument for collecting them? If a publican was hated,
how still more intense must have been the disgust entertained against
a publican who was also a Jew ? "
1 Deut. xvii. 15 ; Jos. Antt. xviii. 2, § 1. " If we can imagine an Irish Roman
Catholic in Ireland undertaking the functions of a Protestant tithe proctor, we
can realize the detestation in which the publicans were held." (See Prof. Plump-
tre, Art. "Publican," Smith's Bibl. Diet.) These, however, are the Socii, or
" subordinates," not the " Mancipes," who were people of some distinction (Cic.
Pro Plancio, ix.). Honesty among them was considered so rare that, according
to Suetonius, several cities erected statues to Sabinus, " the honest publican "
( Vesp. i.). Lucian places them only in the worst company round the tribunal of
Minos (Menip. ii.). But although Matthew held a disreputable office, we may
wholly deny the remarks of Ep. Barn. 5 (vitip itddav a fiapriav dvofiGOTE-
povSn") ; and Cels. Ap. Orig. ii. 46 (rov% iiaoXeSTdrovi fiovovi eiXe 161).
2 The title " publican," as a term of opprobrium, was so thoroughly proverbial
that, if we may trust the exact report of His words, it was even used in that sense
by our Lord himself : " Let him be unto thee as a heathen man and a publican "
(Matt, xviii. 17). The Jews had a proverb, " Take not a wife out of the family
where there is a publican, for they are all publicans." The Gentiles did not
think much better of them, itdvTEi rsXaovai, itdvrsS Eidiv dpxaj-eS™*) Xeno".
Ap. Dicaearch. de Vit. Graec, p. 29). Theocritus, in answer to the question,

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 201
But He who came to seek and save the lost — He who could evoke
Chi'istian holiness out of the midst of heathen corruption — could
make, even out of a Jewish publican, the Apostle and the first Evan
gelist of a new and living Faith. His choice of apostles was dictated
by a spirit far different from that of calculating policy or conven
tional prudence. He rejected the dignified scribe (Matt. viii. 19) ;
He chose the despised and hated tax-gatherer. It was the glorious
unworldliness of a Divine insight and a perfect charity, and St.
Matthew more than justified it by turning his knowledge of writing
to a sacred use, and becoming the earliest biographer of his Saviour
and his Lord.
No doubt Matthew had heard some of the discourses, had seen
some of the miracles of Christ. His heart had been touched, and to
the eyes of Him who despised none and despaired of none, the pub
lican, even as he sat at " the receipt of custom," ; was ready for the
call. One word was enough. The "Follow me" which showed to
Matthew that his Lord loved him, and was ready to use him as a
chosen instrument in spreading the good tidings of the kingdom of
God, was sufficient to break the temptations of avarice and the rou
tine of a daily calling, and "he left all, rose up, and followed Him,"
touched into noblest transformation by the Ithuriel-spear of a forgiv
ing and redeeming love."
which we're the worst kind of wild beasts, said, " On the mountains, bears and lions ;
in cities, publicans and pettifoggers " (Muson. Ap. Stob.). Suidas, s. v. teXgovtj1;,
defines the life as dv ETtiTiixrfz oi dpitayrj, dvaidxvvroi itXsov£%ia, itpaynd-
TEia Xoyov /nr} i'xovda, dvaiSij? initopia.™ (Cave, Lives of the Apostles)
1 This " receipt of custom " is said to have been at the seaside ; hence, in the
Hebrew Gospel of St. Matthew, " publican" is rendered rVOJJ ^>JQ, "lord of the
passage." The publicans are said to have delivered to those who paid toll, a
ticket to free them on the other side. (Buxtorf, Lex. s. v. D31D ; Cave, Lives of
the Apostles)
2 It is here assumed that Matthew is identical with Levi, although Ewald, on
insufficient grounds, denies it (Gesch. Christus, 364, 367). The XEyo/nsvov of
Matt. ix. 9 implies a change of name. His name may have been changed by
Christ, perhaps, in part to obliterate the painful reminiscences of his late dis
creditable calling. The name Matthew (if with Gesenius we regard it as equiva
lent to Mattithjah) means, like Nathanael and Theodore, " gift of God." (Ewald
connects it with Amittai, Gramm. § 273 e; but in Gesch. Christ., p. 397, he says
that Matthias = Mattijah, and Matthew = Mattai, which occurs, by a misreading,
as Nittai among Christ's disciples in Ghagigah 2, 2, and is an abbreviation of
Mattaniah.) If the Evangelist himself naturally prefers this name, whereas St.
Mark and St. Luke call him by the name which he bore when he received Christ's
summons, on the other hand we should note the touching humility with which
he alone of the Evangelists gives to himself in the list of the Apostles (x. 3) tho
dishonorable title of " publican."
26

202 THE LIFJ® 0F CHRIST.

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE TWELVE, AND THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.
" Ante Christi adventum Lex jubebat non juvabat ; post et jubet, et juvat." 16J
— Augustine. Aptee one of His days of loving and ceaseless toil, Jesus, as was
His wont, found rest and peace in prayer. "He went out into a
mountain" — or, as it should rather be rendered, into the mountain1
— "to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God." There is
something affecting beyond measure in the thought of these lonely
hours ; the absolute silence and stillness, broken by no sounds of
human life, but only by the hooting of the night-jar or the howl of
the jackal ; the stars of an Eastern heaven raining their large lustre
out of the unfathomable depth ; the figure of the Man of Sorrows
kneeling upon the dewy grass, and gaining strength for His labors
from the purer air, the more open heaven, of that intense and silent
communing with His Father and His God."
The scene of this lonely vigil, and of the Sermon on the*Mount,
was in all probability the singular elevation known at this day as the
Kurn Hattin, or " Horns of Hattin." 3 It is a hill with a summit
which closely resembles an oriental saddle with its two high peaks.
On the west it rises very little above the level of a broad and undu
lating plain ; on the east it sinks precipitately towards a plateau, on
which lies, immediately beneath the cliffs, the village of Hattin ; and
from this plateau the traveller descends through a wild and tropic
1 In Luke vi. 12, rd opoS is clearly specific, though elsewhere it only means the
hill districts.
2 " In solitudine aer purior, caelum apertius, familiarior Deus " I6S (Orig.). (Jer.
Taylor, Life of Christ, I. § viii. 5.) — It is a mistake of Mede, Hammond, &c, to
suppose that iv rijj itpodsvxv rov QeovU6 can mean " in a proseucha," or oratory
(cf. Acts xvi. ID ; Juv. iii. 296, " In qua te quaero proseucha,-"161 Jos. Vit. 54)
These were always near water (cf. Jos. Antt. xiv. 10, § 23, " and may make their
proseuehae at the sea-side, according to the custom of their forefathers "), and we
know of no instance of their being on hill-tops.
8 Robinson writes it Kurftn, which as a plural is good dictionary Arabic. 1
generally follow Mr. Porter's spelling of modern names in Palestine, as it cer
tainly well represents the actual pronunciation.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 203
gorge to the shining levels of the Lake of Galilee. It is the only
conspicuous hill on the western side of the lake, and it is singularly
adapted by its conformation, both to form a place for short retire
ment, and a rendezvous for gathering multitudes. Hitherward, in all
probability, our Lord wandered in the evening between the rugged
and brigand-haunted crags which form the sides of the Vale of Doves,
stopping, perhaps, at times to drink the clear water of the little
stream, to gather the pleasant apples of the nubk, and to watch the
eagles swooping down on some near point of rock. And hither, in
the morning, less heedful than their Divine Master of the manifold
beauties of the scene, the crowd followed Him — loth even for a
time to lose His inspiring presence, eager to listen to the gracious
words that proceeded out of His mouth.
It was at dawn of day, and before the crowd had assembled, that
our Lord summoned into His presence the disciples who had gradu
ally gathered around Him. Hitherto the relation which bound them
to His person seems to have been loose and partial ; and it is doubt
ful whether they at all realized its full significance. But now
the hour was come, and out of the wider band of general follow
ers He made the final and special choice of His twelve Apostles.
Their number was insignificant compared to the pompous retinue
of hundreds who called themselves followers of a Hillel or a Gama
liel, and their position in life was humble and obscure. Simon and
Andrew the sons of Jonas, James and John the sons of Zabdia, and
Philip, were of the little village of Bethsaida. If Matthew be the
same as Levi, he was a son of Alphseus, and therefore a brother of
James the Less and of Jude, the brother of James, who is generally
regarded as identical with Lebbseus and Thaddseus. They belonged
in all probability to Cana or Capernaum, and if there were any
ground for believing the tradition 1 which says that Mary, the wife of
Alphseus or Klopas," was a younger sister of the Virgin, then we
should have to consider these two brothers as first-cousins of our Lord.
Nathanael or Bartholomew was of Cana in Galilee." Thomas and
1 The punctuation of John xix. 25 is too uncertain to regard this as undeniable ;
nor, since James, Judas, Simon are among the very commonest of Jewish names,
does this in any way affect the question of the " Brethren of Jesus."
2 That Alphaeus and Klopas may represent 'S^O seems clear ; and Kleopas (Luke
xxiv. 18) may be only another variation. On the other hand, Kleopas may be a
shortened form of Kleopater, as Antipas is of Antipater.
3 This goes against Dr. Donaldson's conjecture that both Philip and Nathanael
were sons of Tolmai, and brothers. Dr. Donaldson also argues that Thomas was
a twin brother of Matthew, and was originally called Jude; and that Jude was

204

THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

Simon Zelotes were also Galikeans. Judas Iscariot was the son of
a Simon Iscariot, but whether this Simon is identical with the Zea
lot cannot be determined.
Of these, " the glorious company of the Apostles," three, James
the Less,1 Jude [the brother"] of James, and Simon Zelotes, are
almost totally unknown. The very personality of James and Jude
is involved in numerous and difficult problems, caused by the extreme
frequency of those names among the Jews. Whether they are the
authors of the two Catholic Epistles, is a question which, perhaps,
will never be determined. Nor is anything of individual interest
recorded about them in the Gospels, if we except the single question

the son of James the Less, and therefore grandson of Alphaeus (see his arguments
in Jashar, p. 100). Euseb. H. E. i. 13.) — Some legends make Thomas a twin-
brother of James. t
1 James should rather be called " the Little " than " the Less." The Greek is
6 p-ixpoi, which in classical Greek means " the short of stature " (Xen. Mem. i.
4, 2 ; Lightfoot, Qalatians, p. 250) ; moreover, James the son of Zebedee is never
called the Great.
2 " Judas of James " may mean " son of James ; " but it is supposed that both
Judas and the better-known James were sons of Alphaeus, as well as Matthew.
Judas is almost universally believed (except by Ewald, Gesch. Christ., p. 399) to
be the same as Lebbaeus and Thaddasus — " the three-named disciple." 3p (lebh)
means " heart ; " and Jerome renders the name Corculum. (There is absolutely
no ground for the notion that he received other names because the name Jehuda
has three letters of the Tetragrammaton, and so the Jews avoided it ; on the con
trary, it was one of the very commonest of Jewish names.) The identification
rests partly on the fact that in Matt. x. 3, the reading AEfifiaioZ is in x. B,
OaSSaioS ; and in some MSS. AEJiji. l6 iitixXtjBEiS GaSSaloS. In Mark iii. 18,
the reading also varies, but the true reading is probably QaSSaioS, who, then, in
both lists occupies the tenth place. In St. Luke's list, the corresponding name,
though it occupies the eleventh place, is " Judas of James." The attempt to
make Thaddasus mean the same as Lebbaeus is a mistake, for the Aram, "in (Hebr.
*It»>) means mamma, not pectus or cor (Lam. iv. 3, &c). Ewald identifies Lebbaeus
with Levi (Mark ii. 14), where Origen (c. Cels. ii. 62) seems to have read AefiyS,
and conjectures that Thaddaeus died early, and " Judas of James " was appointed
in his place (Gesch. Christ. 399). Clemens of Alexandria certainly distinguishes
between MarBaloi and Asvii (Strom, iv. 9, § 73). But the whole subject is
involved in almost incredible obscurity. The lists of the Apostles as given by
the three Evangelists and in the Acts are as follow : —
-4.

Matt. x. 3-
1. Simon.
2. Andrew.
3. James.
4. John.
5. Philip.
6. Bartholomew.
7. Thnmas.
8. Matthew.
9. James of Alphaeus.
10. Lebbaeus.
11. Simon 6 Kavavcuos.
13. Judas Iscariot.

Mark iii. 16—19.
Simon. James. John.
Andrew.
Philip. Bartholomew. Matthew.Thomas.James of Alphaeus.
Thaddaeus. Simon 6 Kaptxpato?.
Judas Iscariot.

Luke vi. 14—16.
Simon.Andrew.
James. John.
Philip.Bartholomew.Matthew.Thomas. James of Alphaeus.
Simon Zelotes
Jude of James.
Judas Iscariot.

acts i. 13.
Peter.
James.
John. Andrew.Philip.Thomas.
Bartholomew.Matthew. James of Alphaeus.
Simon Zelotes.
Jude of James.

THE LIFE QF CHRIST. 205
of " Judas, not Iscariot," which is mentioned by St. John.1 Simon is
only known by his surnames of Zelotes, " the Zealot," or " the Canaan-
ite" — names which are identical in meaning, and which mark him
out as having once belonged to the wild and furious followers of
Judas of Giscala." The Greek names of Philip "and Andrew, together
with the fact that it was to Philip that the Greeks applied who
wished for an interview with our Lord, and his reference of the
request to Andrew, may possibly point 3 to some connection on their
part with the Hellenists ; but, besides their first call, almost nothing
is recorded about them ; and the same remark applies to Nathanael
and to Matthew. Of Thomas, called also Didymus, or " the Twin,"
which is only a Greek version of his Hebrew name, we catch several
interesting glimpses, which show a well-marked character, nai've and
simple, but at the same time ardent and generous ; ready to die, yet
slow to believe. Of Judas, the man of Kerioth,* perhaps the only
Jew in the Apostolic band, we shall have sad occasion to speak here-
1 John xiv. 22.
» nwp means "zeal." The true reading of Matt. x. 4; Mark iii. 18 is Kava-
vaioS, and the form of the word indicates the member of a sect (Lightfoot,
Revision, p. 138). ZrjXmrai icapd UovSaioii oi rov vo)J.ov qovXaxei 16s (Suid.
s. v.). Nicephorus (Hist. Eccl. ii. 40) says that he derived the name Sid rov itpoi
rov SiSoidxaXov Siditvpov Z,rjXov.xm For a description of this faction, and
their doings, see Jos. Bell. Jud. iv. passim. " Zealots," he says (iv. 3, § 9), " for
that was the name they went by, as if they were zealous in good deeds, and not
rather zealous in the worst." They took Phinehas as their type (Numb. xxv. 11
— 13). Canaanite can hardly mean " of Cana," for that would be KavaBaXoi
(Ewald, Gesch. Christ., p. 399). Bruce happily remarks that the choice of an ex-
Zealot as an apostle, giving grounds for political suspicion, is another sign of
Christ's disregard of mere prudential wisdom. Christ wished the apostles to be
the type and germ of the Church ; and therefore we find in it a union of opposites —
the tax-gatherer Matthew, and the tax-hater Simon — the unpatriotic Jew who
served the alien, and the patriot who strove for emancipation (Iraining of the
Twelve, p. 36).
3 But see supra, Chap. X., p. 135.
* In John vi. 71, some MSS. read, dito Kapvoorov (a, al.). In D this is the
reading also of xii. 4 ; xiii. 2, &c, and Tischendorf thinks that St. John may have
always used this form. Kerioth is the name of a town on the southern border of
Judah (Josh. xv. 25). 'IdMapicorT/S then means " man (B*K, tsli) of Kerioth," just
a.s"ldr<jo/3o<;, "amanofTob" (Jos. Antt. viii. 6, § 1). Ewald, however (Gesch.
Christ., p. 398), identifies it with Kartah in Zebulun (Josh. xxi. 34). Other deriva-
tions of the name (e. g . , scortea, " a leather apron;" askara, " suffocation," &c . ;
see Lightfoot, Hor.Hebr., in Matt. x. 4) are hardly worth noticing; but it must be
admitted that the reading in Josh. xv. 25 is dubious, being probably Kerioth.
Hezron, i. e., " cities of Hezron, which is Hazor." Robinson identifies the place
with Kuryetein, " the two cities" — a ruined site, ten miles south of Hebron.

206 THE L1FB 0F CHRIST.
after ; and throughout the Gospels he is often branded by the fatal
epitaph, so terrible in its very simplicity, " Judas Iscariot, who also
betrayed Him." '
James, John, and Peter belonged to the innermost circle — the
SKlexrcov SKlaxrotepoi"' — of our Lord's associates and friends."
They alone were admitted into His presence when He raised the
daughter of Jairus, and at His transfiguration, and during His agony
in the garden. Of James we know nothing further except that to
him was granted the high honor of being the first martyr in the Apos
tolic band. He and his brother John seem, although they were fish
ermen, to have been in easier circumstances than their associates.
Zebedee, their father, not only had his own boat, but also his own
hired servants ; and John mentions incidentally in his Gospel that he
" was known to the high priest." 3 We have already noticed the not
improbable conjecture that he resided much at Jerusalem, and there
managed the importing of the fish which were sent thither from the
Sea of Galilee. We should thus be able to account for his more
intimate knowledge of those many incidents of our Lord's ministry
in Judaea which have been entirely omitted by the other Evangelists.
1 Matt. x. 4. The oi iyivEro itpoSorr/i, " who became a traitor," of Luke vi.
16, is a little less severe. If Simon the Zealot bore also the name Iscariot, as
would appear from N, B, C, G, L, &c, in John vi. 71 ; xiii. 26, then he was a father
of the traitor. If he were, as some traditions say, a son of " Clopas, or Alphaeus,"
it might appear that nearly all the Apostles were related to each other and to our
Lord. If we accept the suggestions of different writers on the subject, James and
John, James the Less, Jude, Matthew, and Simon were all His first-cousins, and
Judas Iscariot His second-cousin. The notion that Thomas was a twin-brother,
according to some of Matthew, according to others of Thaddaeus, according to
others of Jesus Himself, merely arises from his name. But all these suppositions
depend on dubious conjecture or wavering tradition, and it is hardly needful to
recount all the various guesses and attempted combinations of modern writers.
It is, however, an interesting fact that so many of the Apostles were brothers —
two sons of Zabdia, two of Jonas, three (at least), if not four, of Alphaeus ; besides
(possibly) two sons of Tolmai, and a father and son.
2 I have already mentioned the conjecture derived from John xix. 25, that
Salome was a sister of the Virgin (v. supr., p. 130, n. 3). But if the sons of Zebe
dee were the first-cousins of Jesus, it would be strange that no hint or tradition
of the fact should have been preserved. Zebedee probably died shortly after their
final call to the Apostolate, as we hear no more of him.
3 The story of his wearing a itizaXov (Exod. xxviii. 3(i ; xxix. 6) at Ephesus, as
though he had himself been of priestly race (oi iyevrfBi? iepsui rd itiraXov
iCEcpopEKGOi,m Euseb. H. E. iii. 31), sounds very apocryphal. Tet it is strange
that such a story should have been invented, especially as we find the same thing
asserted of James the Just, " the Lord's brother " (Epiphan. Haer. xxix. 4 ; Ewald.
Gesch. Christus, p. 246, 3rd ed.). Perhaps in this instance, as in others, a symbolic
allusion has been too literally interpreted as a fact.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 207
St. John and St. Peter — the one the symbol of the contemplative,
the other of the practical life — are undoubtedly the grandest and
most attractive figures in that Apostolic band. The character of St.
John has been often mistaken. Filled as he was with a most divine
tenderness — realizing as he did to a greater extent than any of the
Apostles the full depth and significance of our Lord's new command
ment — rich as his Epistles and his Gospel are with a meditative and
absorbing reverence — dear as he has ever been in consequence to
the heart of the mystic and the saint — yet he was something indefin
itely far removed from that effeminate pietist which has furnished
the usual type under which he has been represented. The name
Boanerges, or " Sons of Thunder," which he share»l with his brother
James,1 their joint petition for precedence in the kingdom of God,
their passionate request to call down fire from heaven on the offend
ing village of the Samaritans," the burning energy of the patois in
which the Apocalypse is written, the impetuous horror with which,
according to tradition, St. John recoiled from the presence of the
heretic Cerinthus," all show that in him was the spirit of the eagle,
which, rather than the dove, has been his immemorial symbol.4 And
since zeal and enthusiasm, dead as they are, and scorned in these days
by an effete and comfortable religionism, yet have ever been indis
pensable instruments in spreading the Kingdom of Heaven, doubtless
it was the existence of these elements in his character, side by side
with tenderness and devotion, which endeared him so greatly to his
Master, and made him the " disciple whom Jesus loved." The won
derful depth and power of his imagination, the rare combination of
contemplativeness and passion, of strength and sweetness, in the
same soul — the perfect faith which inspired his devotion, and the
perfect love which precluded fear ; — these were the gifts and graces
which rendered him worthy of leaning his young head on the bosom
of his Lord.
Nor is his friend St. Peter a less interesting study. We shall have
many opportunities of observing the generous, impetuous, wavering,
noble, timid, impulses of his thoroughly human but most lovable
disposition. Let the brief but vivid summary of another now suffice.
" It would be hard to tell," says Dr. Hamilton, " whether most of his
fervor flowed through the outlet of adoration or activity. His full
1 Bene R'aasch (Gratz, Gesch. d. Jud. iii. 231).
2 Luke ix. 54.
3 Euseb. H. E. iv. 14. The heretic is also said to have been Ebion (Epiph.
Haer. xxx. 24).
4 The same spirit appears in Luke ix. 49 ; Rev. xxii. 18 ; 2 John 9, 10.

208 mE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
heart put force and promptitude into every movement. Is his Mas
ter encompassed by fierce ruffians? — Peter's ardor flashes in Ins
ready sword, and converts the Galilaean boatman into the soldier
instantaneous. Is there a rumor of a resurrection from Joseph's
tomb ? — John's nimbler foot distances his older friend ; but Peter's
eagerness outruns the serene love of John, and past the gazing' disci
ple he rushes breathless into the vacant sepulchre. Is the risen
Saviour on the strand? — his comrades secure the net, and turn the
vessel's head for shore ; but Peter plunges over the vessel's side, and
struggling through the waves, in his dripping coat falls down at his
Master's feet. Does Jesus say, ' Bring of the fish ye have caught ? '
— ere any one could anticipate the word, Peter's brawny arm is
lugging the weltering net with its glittering spoil ashore, and every
eager movement unwittingly is answering beforehand the question of
his Lord, ' Simon, lovest thou me ? ' And that fervor is the best,
which, like Peter's, and as occasion requires, can ascend in ecstatic
ascriptions of adoration and praise, or follow Christ to prison and to
death ; which can concentrate itself on feats of heroic devotion, or
distribute itself in the affectionate assiduities of a miscellaneous
industry." '
Such were the chief of the Apostles whom their Lord united into
one band as He sat on the green summit of Kurn Hattin. We may
suppose that on one of those two peaks He had passed the night in
prayer, and had there been joined by His disciples at the early dawn.
By what external symbol, if by any, our Lord ratified this first great
ordination to the Apostolate we do not know ; but undoubtedly the
present choice was regarded as formal and as final. Henceforth there
was to be no return to the fisher's boat or the publican's booth as a
source of sustenance ; but the disciples were to share the wandering
missions, the evangelic labors, the scant meal and uncertain home,
which marked even the happiest period of the ministry of their Lord.
They were to be weary with Him under the burning noonday, and
to sleep, as He did, under the starry sky.
And while the choice was being made, a vast promiscuous multi
tude had begun to gather. Not only from the densely-populated
shores of the Sea of Galilee, but even from Judeea and Jerusalem —
nay, even from the distant sea-coasts of Tyre and Sidon — they had
crowded to touch His person and hear his words." From the peak
1 Dr. Hamilton, Life in Earnest, p. 80.
' Luke vi. 17 — 19. Assuming, with little or no hesitation, that St. Luke intends
to record the same great discourse as that given by St . Matthew, I have here, as
in so many other places, combined the separate touches in the twofold narrative

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 209
He descended to the flat summit of the hill,1 and first of all occupied
Himself with the physical wants of those anxious hearers, healing
their diseases, and dispossessing the unclean spirits of the souls which
they had seized. And then, when the multitude were seated in calm
and serious attention on the grassy sides of that lovely natural amphi
theatre, He raised His eyes," which had, perhaps, been bent down
wards for a few moments of inward prayer, and opening His mouth,3
delivered primarily to His disciples, but intending through them to
address the multitude, that memorable discourse which will be known
for ever as " the Sermon on the Mount."
The most careless reader has probably been struck with the con
trast between the delivery of this sermon and the delivery of the Law
on Sinai. We think of that as a " fiery law," whose promulgation is
surrounded by the imagery of thunders, and lightnings, and the voice
of the trumpet sounding long and waxing louder and louder. We
think of this as flowing forth in divinest music amid all the calm and
loveliness of the clear and quiet dawn. That came dreadfully to the
startled conscience from an Unseen Presence, shrouded by wreathing
clouds, and destroying fire, and eddying smoke ; this was uttered by
a sweet human voice that moved the heart most gently in words of
peace. That was delivered on the desolate and storm-rent hill which
seems with its red granite crags to threaten the scorching wilder
ness ; this on the flowery grass of the green hill-side which slopes
down to the silver lake. That shook the heart with terror and agi
tation ; this soothed it with peace and love. And yet the New Com
mandments of the Mount of Beatitudes were not meant to abrogate,
- but rather to* complete, the Law which was spoken from Sinai to
them of old." That Law was founded on the eternal distinctions of
right and wrong — distinctions strong and irremovable as the granite
bases of the world. Easier would it be to sweep away the heaven
The apparent differences are easily accounted for by any reasonable theory of the
position of the Evangelists. At the same time I see no objection whatever to the
supposition that our Lord may have repeated parts of His teaching at different
times and places and to different audiences ; or that St. Matthew has combined
and summarized not one but many sermons delivered on the Galilaean hills.
1 The roitoi WESivoi of Luke vi. 17, which is too briefly rendered " the plain "
in the English Version. Cf. Isa. xiii. 2, in' opovi iteSivov apart GrjU^iov, LXX.
2 Luke vi. 20.
3 Matt. v. 2. The expression marks the solemnity and importance of the
discourse. 4 Toii dpxai'oii (Matt. v. 21). Not "by," as in our A. V., but "to" them of
old ; " to eld men " (Wiclif). The Rabbis, too, spoke of the abiding permanence
of the Law, but they applied the remark materially, not, as Jesus does, spiritually.
27 '

210 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
and the earth, than to destroy the least letter, one yod — or the least
point of a letter, one projecting horn — of that code which contains
the very principles of all moral life. Jesus warned them that He
came, not to abolish that Law, but to obey and to fulfil ; while at the
same time He taught that this obedience had nothing to do with the
Levitical scrupulosity of a superstitious adherence to the letter, but
was rather a surrender of the heart and will to the innermost mean
ing and spirit which the commands involved. He fulfilled that olden
Law by perfectly keeping it, and by imparting a power to keep it to
all who believe in Him, even though He made its cogency so far more
universal and profound.'
The sermon began with the word " blessed," and with an octave
of beatitudes. But it was a new revelation of beatitude. The peo
ple were expecting a Messiah who should break the yoke off their
necks — a king clothed in earthly splendor, and manifested in the
pomp of victory and vengeance. Their minds were haunted with
legendary prophecies, as to how He should stand on the shore of Joppa,
and bid the sea pour out its pearls and treasure at His feet ; how He
should clothe them with jewels and scarlet, and feed them with even
a sweeter manna than the wilderness had known. But Christ reveals
to them another King, another happiness — the riches of poverty, the
royalty of meekness, the high beatitude of sorrow and persecution.
And this new Law, which should not only command but also aid,
was to be set forth in beneficent manifestation — at once as salt to
preserve the world from corruption, and as a light to guide it in the
darkness. And then follows a comparison of the new Law of mercy
with the old Law of threatening ; the old was transitory, this perma
nent ; the old was a type and shadow, the new a fulfilment and com
pletion ; the old demanded obedience in outward action, the new
was to permeate the thoughts ; the old contained the rule of conduct,
the new the secret of obedience. The command, " Thou shalt not
murder," was henceforth extended to angry words and feelings of
hatred." The germ of adultery was shown to be involved in a lasciv-
1 See the beautiful remarks of St. Augustine, quoted in Archbishop Trench's
Sermon on the Mount, p. 186.
2 The word Etxrj (D, many uncials, the Vetus Itala, the Cureton Syriac, &c.) in
Matt. v. 22, whether genuine or not, expresses the true sense, for there is such a
thing as a righteous anger, and a justifiable indignation (Eph. iv. 26). Augustine
finely and truly says, "Non fratri irascitur, qui peccato fratris irascitur" 112 (Retract.
i. 19). The word /xoopi in the same verse may be not merely " fool," but " rebel,"
" apostate ; " the Hebrew morah (Numb. xx. 10). (Of course, I do not mean that
naopoi is derived from, but merely that it was suggested by the Hebrew word, as
is the case very often in LXX. renderings.) But the thing which Jesus forbids is

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 211
ious look. The prohibition of perjury was extended to every vain
and unnecessary oath. The law of equivalent revenge was super
seded by a law of absolute self-abnegation. The love due to our
neighbor was extended also to our enemy.1 Henceforth the children
of the kingdom were to aim at nothing less than this — namely, to
be perfect, as their Father in heaven is perfect.
And the new life which was to issue from this new Law was to be
contrasted in all respects with that routine of exaggerated scruples
and Pharisaic formalism which had hitherto been regarded as the
highest type of a religious conversation. Alms were to be given,
not with noisy ostentation, but in modest secrecy." Prayers were
to be uttered, not with hypocritic publicity, but in holy solitude.
Fasting was to be exercised, not as a belauded virtue, but as a private
self-denial. And all these acts of devotion were to be offered with
sole reference to the love of God, in a simplicity which sought no
earthly reward, but which stored up for itself a heavenly and incor-
not the mere use of particular expressions — for if that were all, He might have
instanced taunts and libels ten thousand times more deadly — but the spirit of
rage and passion out of which such expressions spring. Thus Raca (go dvBpaoite
heve) is used,, with due cause, by St. James (ii. 20), and p.Gopoi is applied to the
blind and wicked, not only by David (Ps. xiv. 1), but by our Lord Himself (Matt.
xxiii. 17).
2 Matt. v. 43, " and hate thine enemy," has been severely criticised by later
Jews as a misrepresentation of the Mosaic Law. See, however, Deut. xxiii. 6 ;
vii. 2. And although these precepts were of special significance, certainly many
of the Rabbis, including Shammai himself, had made use of the Mosaic Law to
justify the most violent national and religious hatred («. Schettgen, Hor. Hebr.,
ad loc). He quotes, among other passages from the Talmud, Midr. Tehillin, f.
26,4: "Do not show kindness or pity to Gentiles." Lightfoot, ib., quotes one
from Maimonides, and says, " Exemplum hoc unum satis sit pro plurimis, quae
praesto sunt ubique." I73 " The Mishna," says GfrOrer (Jahrh., d. Heils, i. 114), " is
full of such passages," and if the Jews had not acted in the spirit of them, we
should not have had the charges against them in Tacitus (" ad versus omnes alios
hostile odium," m H. v. 5) and Juvenal (" Non monstrare vias eadem nisi sacra
colenti," "5 Sat. xiv. 103).
3 There is no trace in the Talmud or elsewhere that it was a practice of the
Pharisees to send a trumpeter before them when they distributed their alms
(Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. in Matt. vi. 2). The expression "do not sound a trumpet
before thee " is merely a graphic touch for " do not do it publicly and ostenta
tiously" (cf. Numb. x. 3 ; Ps. lxxxi. 3 ; Joel ii. 15, &c). Mr. Shore, in the Bible
Educator, approves of Schottgen's conjecture, which connects it with the trumpet-
shaped openings of the alms-boxes in the Temple treasury (Neh. xii. 41) ; but
surely " do not trumpet " could never mean " do not make your shekels rattle in
those trumpet-shaped orifices." It is true that they were called shopheroth
(Reland, De Spol Tempi. Hierosol. xii.). Grotins connects the expression with
Amos iv. 5 ; and Rashi with a supposed custom (Targ. Hos. xiv. 8) of blowing the
trumpet during libations in the Temple.

212 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ruptible treasure. And the service to be sincere must be entire and
undistracted. The cares and the anxieties of life were not to divert
its earnestness or to trouble its repose. The God to whom it was
directed was a Father also, and He who ever feeds the fowls of the
air, which neither sow nor reap, and clothes in their more than regal
loveliness the flowers of the field,1 would not fail to clothe and feed,
and that without any need for their own toilsome anxiety, the chil
dren who seek His righteousness as their first desire.
And what should be the basis of such service ? The self-examina
tion which issues in a gentleness which will not condemn, in a char
ity that cannot believe, in an ignorance that will not know, the sins
of others ; the reserve which will not waste or degrade things holy ;
the faith which seeks for strength from above, and knows that, seek
ing rightly, it shall obtain ; the self-denial which, in the desire to
increase God's glory and man's happiness, sees the sole guide of its
actions towards all the world.
The gate was strait, the path narrow, but it led to life ; by the
lives and actions of those who professed to live by it, and point it out,
they were to judge whether their doctrine was true or false ; without
this neither words of orthodoxy would avail, nor works of power.
Lastly, He warned them that he who heard these sayings and did
them was like a wise man who built a house with foundations dug
deeply into the living rock, whose house, because it was founded
upon a rock, stood unshaken amid the vehement beating of storm
and surge : but he who heard and did them not was likened " unto a
foolish man that built his house upon the sand ; and the rain de
scended, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that
house : and it fell, and great was the fall of it." "
1 Compare the name Kaiser/crone for the imperial martagon. The lilies to
which Christ alluded (Matt. vi. 28) are either flowers generally, or, perhaps, the
scarlet anemone, or the Huleh lily — a beautiful flower which is found wild in
this neighborhood. In verse 27, r/Xixia should be rendered " age," not " stature,"
as in John ix. 21 ; Eph. iv. 13 ; Heb. xi. 11. Cf. SdxrvXoi d/ne'pa, Ale, and Ps.
xxxix. 5.
2 With this simile compare Ezek. xiii. 11 ; Job xxvii. 18. SchSttgen quotes an
analogous comparison from the Pirke AbhSth iii. 17, and Abhoth de Rabbi Nathan,
c. 23 (a late Jewish writer). For an admirable sketch of the topics handled
in the Sermon on the Mount, see Westcott's Introd., p. 358. In outline he
arranges it thus : — 1. " The Citizens of the Kingdom (v. 1 — 16) — their character
absolutely (3—6) ; relatively (7—12) ; and their influence (13—16). 2. The New
Law (17—48) as the fulfilment of the Old generally (17 — 20) and specially (mur
der, adultery, perjury, revenge, exclusiveness, 21 — 48). 3. The New Life (vi. — vii.
27) ; acts of devotion (vi. 1 — 18), aims (19 — 34), conduct (vii. 1 — 12), dangers (vii.
13 — 23). 4. The Great Contrast." Many Rabbinical parables — always inferior

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 213
Such in barest and most colorless outline are the topics of that
mighty sermon ; nor is it marvellous that they who heard it " were
astonished at the doctrine." Their main astonishment was that He
taught " as one having authority, and not as the Scribes.1 The teach-
in beauty, in point, in breadth, and in spirituality — have been compared with
separate clauses of the Sermon on the Mount. Since even the Mishna was. not
committed to writing till the second century, and since it is therefore impossible
to estimate the diffusion of Christian thought even among hostile Rabbinic writers,
nothing conclusive can be assured from these parallels. It is a great mistake, as
a friend observes, to suppose that the world is made in water-tight compartments,
even when the divisions seem most absolute. In fact, hostility may be less a
barrier than a channel, at least when accompanied by competition. Protestantism
has reacted upon Romanism, but nothing like to the extent that Christianity
reacted upon Judaism. But even if we suppose the Rabbinic parallels, such as
they are, to be independent and precedent, yet, considering the fact that high moral
truths have been uttered even by pagans, from the earliest times — and considering
that all discovery of moral truths is due to that revealing Spirit which is called in
Scripture " the candle of the Lord " (Prov. xx. 27) — the question of "originality,"
to which some writers attach so much importance, Beems to be futile, and devoid
of all significance. I have not thought it worth while to adduce these parallels,
except in rare and interesting cases. The -attack on the score of its not being
" original " is the one of all others from which Christianity has least to fear. The
question of mere literary precedence in the utterance or illustration of a moral
truth is one which has no importance for mankind. A truth so enunciated that
it merely lies " in the lumber-room of the memory, side by side with the most ex
ploded errors," is practically no truth at all ; it only becomes real when it is so
taught as to become potent among human motives.
"Though truths in manhood darkly join,
Deep-seated in our mystic frame,
We yield all honor to the name
Of Him who made them current coin."
1 The Scribes (Sopherim) date as a distinct body from the period of Ezra. The
name is derived from sepher, " or book," and means " Scripturalists " — those who
explained and copied the Law ; not from saphar, " to count," because they counted
all the letters of it (Derenbourg, Hist. Pal. 25). Their functions were to copy,
read, amend, explain, and protect the Law. It was in the latter capacity that
they invented the " fences," which, under the title of Dibheri Sopherim, " words
of the Scribes," formed the nucleus of the " tradition of the elders " (Matt. xv. 2 ;
Gal. i. 14), or Oral Law (the Torah shebeal pi, or " Law upon the lip," as dis
tinguished from the Torah shebeketeb, or " Law which is in writing "), any trans
gression of which is declared by the Mishna to be more heinous than a transgres
sion of the words of the Bible (Sanhedrin, x. 3). The Sopherim proper only lasted
from Ezra to the death of Simon the Just, B. C. 300, and they were succeeded by
the Tanaim, or teachers of the Law — the vofiixoi and vo/uoSiSddxaXoi of the
Gospels, who lasted to A. D. 220, and fixed the " Words of the Scribes " into
" Halachdth," or " rules of action," chiefly intended to form a seyag latdrah, or
" hedge about the Law." The Tanaim inherited a splendor of reputation which
was reflected on them from their predecessors, who held a most exalted position

214 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ing of their Scribes was narrow, dogmatic, material ; it was cold in
manner, frivolous in matter, secpnd-hand, and iterative in its very
essence; with no freshness in it, no force, no fire; servile to all
authority, opposed to all independence ; at once erudite and foolish,
at once contemptuous and mean; never passing a hair's breadth
beyond the. carefully-watched boundary line of commentary and
precedent ; full of balanced inference and orthodox hesitancy, and
impossible literalism ; intricate with legal pettiness and labyrinthine
system ; elevating mere memory above genius, and repetition above
originality ; concerned only about Priests and Pharisees, in Temple
and synagogue, or school, or Sanhedrin, and mostly occupied with
things infinitely little. It was not indeed wholly devoid of moral sig
nificance, nor is it impossible to find here and there, among the debris
of it, a noble thought ; but it was occupied a thousandfold more with
Levitical minutiae about mint, and anise, and cummin, and the length
of fringes, and the breadth of phylacteries, and the washing of cups
and platters, and the particular quarter of a second when new moons
and Sabbath-days began.1 But this teaching of Jesus was wholly
(Ecclus. xxxix. 1 — 11). But the name ypa/a/xarEvi still continued to exist,
although in a less lofty meaning than it had previously acquired. Secondhand-
ness, the slavish dependence on precedent and authority, is the most remarkable
characteristic of Rabbinical teaching. It very rarely rises above the level of a
commentary at once timid and fantastic. R. Eliezer actually made it his boast
that he had originated nothing ; and Hillel's grand position, as Nasi, or President
of the Sanhedrin, was simply due to his having remembered a decision of Shemaia
and Abtalion. " Get for thyself a teacher," was a characteristic gnome of Joshua
Ben Perachia, whom the Talmud calls " the Teacher of Christ."
] Any one who chooses to take the trouble, may verify these assertions for
himself. Much has been written lately in exaltation of the Talmud. Now the
literature to which the general name of Talmud is given, occupies twelvo
immense folio volumes ; and it would be strange indeed if out of this vast ency
clopaedia of a nation's literature, it were not possible to quote a few eloquent
passages, some beautiful illustrations, and a considerable number of just moral
sentiments which sometimes rise to the dignity of noble thoughts. But what
seems to me absolutely indisputable, and what any one may judge of for himself,
is that all that is really valuable in the Talmud is infinitesimally small compared
with the almost immeasurable rubbish-heaps in which it is imbedded. Let any
one, for instance, take in hand the recent French translation of one of the most
important Talmudic treatises. The Talmud — i.e., the Mishna and Gemara —
is divided into six Sedarim, or " orders," the first of which is called Seder Zeraim,
or " Order of Seeds," and the first treatise of this is called Berachoth, or " Bless
ings," and is composed of nine chapters on " the confession, worship, and service
of the one God, and of prayers and benedictions offered to Him as the Giver of the
blessings of Life." This has been translated into French by a learned Hebraist,
M. Mo'fse Schwab, of the Bibliotheque Nationale. The subject of this treatise is
infinitely more elevating and important than that of any other of the sixty-three
massiktoth, or " treatises " of which the Mishna is composed. Now I will ask any

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 215
different in its character, and as much grander as the temple of the
morning sky under which it was uttered was grander than stifling
synagogue or crowded school. It was preached, as each occasion rose,
on the hill-side, or by the lake, or on the roads, or in the house of the
Pharisee, or at the banquet of the Publican ; nor was it any sweeter
or loftier when it was addressed in the Royal Portico to the Masters
of Israel, than when its only hearers were the ignorant people whom
the haughty Pharisees held to be accursed. And there was no reserve
in its administration. It flowed forth as sweetly and as lavishly to
single listeners as to enraptured crowds ; and some of its very richest
revelations were vouchsafed, neither to rulers nor to multitudes, but
to the persecuted outcast of the Jewish synagogue, to the timid
inquirer in the lonely midnight, and the frail woman by the noon
day well. And it dealt, not with scrupulous tithes and ceremonial
cleansings, but with the human soul, and human destiny, and human
life — with Hope and Charity, and Faith. There were no definitions-
in it, or explanations, or " scholastic systems," or philosophic theoriz
ing, or implicated mazes of difficult and dubious discussion, but a
swift intuitive insight into the very depths of the human heart —
even a supreme and daring paradox that, without being fenced round
with exceptions or limitations, appealed to the conscience with its
irresistible simplicity, and with an absolute mastery stirred and dom
inated over the heart. Springing from the depths of holy emotions,
it thrilled the being of every listener as with an electric flame. In a
word, its authority was the authority of the Divine Incarnate ; it was
a Voice of God, speaking in the utterance of man ; its austere purity
was yet pervaded with tenderest sympathy, and its awful severity
with an unutterable love. It is, to borrow the image of the wisest of
reader or critic who considers that I have spoken too slightingly of the Scribes in
the above passage, or have unduly depreciated the Talmud in other parts of this
book, merely to take at haphazard any three perakim, or chapters of the BeracMth,
and make an abstract of them. I shall be indeed surprised if after accepting this
little test he still retains the exalted conception of these Jewish writings which
some recent writers — notably the late lamented Mr. Deutsch — .have endeavored
to create. Few English divines have known the Talmud so thoroughly as Dr.
Lightfoot, the learned author of the Horae Hebraicae (d. 1675). He was a man of
eminent candor and simplicity, and his estimate of the Talmud, after an almost
lifelong study of it, was as follows : " Volumina ista legentem supra modum
cruciant, torquent, et fatigant, styli difficultas tantum non insuperabilis, linguae
asperitas tremenda, et rerum' tractatarum stupenda inamtas bt vafkities.
Nugis ubique scatent ita ac si nollent legi ; obscuris ac difficilibus ac si nollent
intelligi; ita ut ubique patientia Lectori sit opus, et nugas ferendo et asperi-
tates." "6 (Dedic. in Hor. Hebr. in Matth., 1658.) — See Excursus V., " The Talmud
and the Oral Law."

216 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the Latin Fathers, a great sea whose smiling surface breaks into
refreshing ripples at the feet of our little ones, but into whose
unfathomable depths the wisest may gaze with the shudder of
amazement and the thrill of love.1
And we, who can compare Christ's teaching — the teaching of One
whom some would represent to have been no more than the Carpen
ter of Nazareth — with all that the world has of best and greatest
in Philosophy and Eloquence and Song, must not we too add, with
yet deeper emphasis, that teaching as one having authority, He spake
as never man spake? Other teachers have by God's grace uttered
words of wisdom, but to which of them has it been granted to regen
erate mankind ? What would the world be now if it had nothing
better than the dry aphorisms and cautious hesitations of Confucius,
or the dubious principles and dangerous concessions of Plato?
Would humanity have made the vast moral advance which it has
made, if no great Prophet from on High had furnished it with any
thing better than Sakya Mouni's dreary hope of a nirvdna, to be
won by' unnatural asceticism, or than Mahomet's cynical sanction
of polygamy and despotism ? Christianity may have degenerated in
many respects from its old and great ideal ; it may have lost some
thing of its virgin purity — the struggling and divided Church of
to-day may have waned, during these long centuries, from the splen
dor of the New Jerusalem descending out of heaven from God : but
is Christendom no better than what Greece became, and what Tur
key and Arabia and China are ? Does Christianity wither the nations
which have accepted it with the atrophy of Buddhism, or the blight
of Islam ? " Even as a moral system — though it is infinitely more
than a moral system — we do not concede that Christianity is unor-
7 
1 " Mira profunditas eloquiorum tuorum, quorum ecce ante uos superficies
blandiens parvulis : sed mira profunditas, Deus meus, mira profunditas ! Horror
est intendere in earn ; horror honoris et tremor amoris " '" (Augustine, Conf. xii.
14). On the general characteristics of Christian teaching there are some very
beautiful and interesting remarks in Guizot, Meditations sur V Essence de la
Religion Chrelienne, p. 279 ; Dupanloup, Vie de Notre Seigneur, pp. lxxiv. seqq.
To avoid repetition, I may refer on this subject to the third of my Hulsean Lec
tures on the Witness of History to Christ, pp. 134—149.
2 A blight certainly in Turkey, Syria, Arabia, and Egypt, and surely everywhere
non-progressive; but Islam being, as it is, » professed modification of Judaism
and Christianity, can hardly be counted an independent religion, and is indeed a
degeneracy even from Judaism. On Mahomet's teaching in general see some
wise remarks in Prof. Mozley's Bampton Lectures On Miracles, p. 179. The
reader may form some conception of K'ung Foo-tze from Dr. Legge's Life and
Teaching of Confucius, which contains a translation of the Analects; and of
Sakya Mouni from M. B. St. Hilaire's Le Bouddha et sa Religion (Pans, 1860).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 217
iginal ; and we besides maintain that no faith has ever been able like
it to sway the affections and hearts of men. Other religions are
demonstrably defective and erroneous ; ours has never been proved
to be otherwise than perfect and entire ; other systems -were esoteric
and exclusive, ours simple and universal ; others temporary and for
the few, ours eternal and for the race. K'ung Foo-tze, Sakya Mouni,
Mahomet, could not even conceive the ideal of a society without fall
ing into miserable error ; Christ established the reality of an eternal
and glorious kingdom — whose theory for all, whose history in the
world, prove it to be indeed what it was from the first proclaimed to
be — the Kingdom of Heaven, the Kingdom of God.1
And yet how exquisitely and freshly simple is the actual language
of Christ compared with all other teaching that has ever gained
the ear of the world ! There is no science in it, no art, no pomp of
demonstration, no carefulness of toil, no trick of rhetoricians, no wis
dom of the schools. Straight as an arrow to the mark His precepts
pierce to the very depths of the soul and spirit. All is short, clear,
precise, full of holiness, full of the common images of daily life.
There is scarcely a scene or object familiar to the Galilee of that day,
which Jesus did not use as a moral illustration of some glorious prom
ise or moral law. He spoke of green fields,, and springing flowers,
and the budding of the vernal trees ; of the red or lowering sky ; of
sunrise and- sunset ; of wind and rain ; of night and storm ; of clouds
and lightning; of stream and river; of stars and lamps ; of honey
and salt ; of quivering bulrushes and burning weeds ; of rent gar
ments and bursting wine-skins ; of eggs and serpents ; of pearls and
pieces of money ; of nets and fish. Wine and wheat, corn and oil,
stewards and gardeners, laborers and employers, kings and shepherds,
travellers and fathers of families, courtiers in soft clothing and brides
in nuptial robes — all these are found in His discourses. He knew
all life, and had gazed on it with a kindly as well as a kingly glance.
He could sympathize with its joys no less than He could heal its sor
rows, and the eyes that were so often suffused with tears as they saw
the sufferings of earth's mourners beside the bed of death, had shone
also with a kindlier glow as they watched the games of earth's happy
fittle ones in the green fields and busy streets."
1 See further The Witness of History to Christ, pp. 142. seqq.
2 Few have spoken more beautifully of our Lord's teaching in these respects
than Bishop Dupanloup, Vie de Notre Seigneur, I. c, in whom the main thought
of the last paragraph will be found at much greater length. Much that I have
28

218 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
said in this chapter is beautifully illustrated in a little poem by Arthur Hugh
Clough, part of which (if it be not known to him) the reader will thank me for
quoting • — " 'Across the sea, along the shore,
In numbers ever more and more,
From lonely hut and busy town,
The valley through, the mountain down,
What was it ye went out to see,
Ye silly folk of Galilee ?
The reed that in the wind doth shake ?
The weed that washes in the lake ?

' ' A teacher ? Rather seek the feet
Of those who sit in Moses' seat.
Go, humbly seek, and bow to them
Far off in great Jerusalem ....
What is it came ye here to note ?
A young man preaching in a boat.
' * A Prophet ! Boys and women weak
Declare — and cease to rave —
Whence is it he hath learnt to speak
Say, who his doctrine gave ?
A Prophet 1 Prophet wherefore he
Of all in Israel's tribes ? '
He teacheth with authority
And not as do the Scribes.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 219

CHAPTER XIX.
FURTHER MIRACLES.
" He sent forth His word, and healed them." — Ps. cvii. 20.
The Inauguration of the Great Doctrine was immediately followed
and ratified by mighty signs. Jesus went, says one of the Fathers,
from teaching to miracle.1 Having taught as one who had authority,
He proceeded to confirm that authority by accordant deeds.
It might have been thought that after a night of ceaseless prayer
under the open sky, followed at early dawn by the choice of Twelve
Apostles, and by a long address to them and to a vast promiscuous
multitude, our Lord would have retired to the repose which such
incessant activity required. Such, however, was very far from being
the case, and the next few days, if we rightly grasp the sequence of
events, were days of continuous and unwearying toil.
When the Sermon was over, the immense throng dispersed in
various directions, and those whose homes lay in the plain of Gen
nesareth would doubtless follow Jesus through the village of Hattin,
and across the narrow plateau, and then, after descending the ravine,
would leave Magdala on the right, and pass through Bethsaida " to
Capernaum. As He descended the mountain,3 and was just entering one of the
fittle towns,4 probably a short distance in advance of the multitude,
who from natural respect would be likely to leave Him undisturbed
after His labors, a pitiable spectacle met His eyes. Suddenly,6 with
agonies of entreaty, falling first on his knees, then, in the anguish of
1 Euthymius. Matt. viii. 1 — 4 ; Mark i. 40—45 ; Luke v. 12—16. — St. Matthew
narrates twenty miracles ; St. Mark, eighteen ; St. Luke, nineteen ; and St. John,
seven. The total number of miracles related by the Evangelists is thirty-three.
ii. e., the Western Bethsaida — probably the pleasant spot on the lake with its
gently sloping banks, abundant streams, and strip of bright sand, now called Ain
et-TSbijah. 3 This definite mark of time and place is furnished by St. Matthew (viii. 1). I
have combined with his narrative the incidents alluded to by the two other Synop
tists. 4 Luke v. 12. Hattin, or Magdala, would best suit the conditions mentioned. ,
6 This is implied in the xai iSov of Luke v. 12 ; Matt. viii. 2. The phrase is
peculiar to these two Evangelists, of whom St. Matthew uses it twenty-three, and
St. Luke sixteen times (Westcott, Introd , p. 237, ».).

220 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
his heart and the intensity of his supplication, prostratmg himself
upon his face,1 there appeared before Him, with bare head, and rent
garments, and covered lip, a leper — "full of leprosy" — smitten with
the worst and foulest form of that loathsome and terrible disease. It
must, indeed, have required on the part of the poor wretch a stupen
dous faith to believe that the young Prophet of Nazareth was One
who could heal a disease of which the worst misery was the belief
that, when once thoroughly seated in the blood, it was ineradicable
and progressive. And yet the concentrated hope of a life broke out
in the man's impassioned prayer, " Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst
make me clean." Prompt as an echo came the answer to his faith,
" I will : be thou clean." " All Christ's miracles are revelations also.
Sometimes, when the circumstances of the case required it, He
delayed His answer to a sufferer's prayer. But we are never told that
there was a moment's pause when a leper cried to him. Leprosy was
an acknowledged type of sin, and Christ would teach us that the
heartfelt prayer of the sinner to be purged and cleansed is always
met by instantaneous acceptance. When David, the type of all true
penitents, cried with intense contrition, " I have sinned against the
Lord," Nathan could instantly convey to him God's gracious message,
" The Lord also hath put away thy sin ; thou shalt not die." 3
Instantly stretching forth His hand, our Lord touched the leper,
and he was cleansed.
It was a glorious violation of the letter of the Law, which attached
ceremonial pollution to a leper's touch ; * but it was at the same time
a glorious illustration of the spirit of the Law, which was that mercy
is better than sacrifice. The hand of Jesus was not polluted by
touching the leper's body, but the leper's whole body was cleansed
by the touch of that holy hand. It wa§ even thus that He touched
our sinful human nature, and yet remained without spot of sin.6
1 icpodExvvEi (Matt. viii. 2), yovvitETGOv (Mark i. 40), itEdGov iiti TtpodGonov
(Luke v. 12). A leper was regarded as one dead (Jos. Antt. iii. 11, §3, /xr/Ssvi
dvvSiaiTGOfievovi xai vexpov urjSiv Siacpspovrai"*).
' "Echo prompta ad fidem leprosi msturam " "9 (Bengel). St. Ambrose says,
very fancifully, "Dicit volo propter Photinum; imperat propter Arium ; tangit
propter Manichaeum." 160 The prompt, almost impetuous gladness and spon
taneity of these miracles contrasts with the sorrow and delay of' those later ones,
which Jesus wrought when His heart had been utterly saddened, and men's faith
in Him had already begun to wane (cf. Matt. xiii. 58 ; Mark vi. 5). " Prima
miracula fecit confestim, ne videretur cum labore facere " I8! (Bengel).
3 2 Sam. xii. 13.
4 Lev. xiii. 26, 46 ; Numb. v. 2. — " Quia Dominus Legis est non obsequitur
Legi, sed Legem facit" 182 (Ambr., in Luc).
5 H. de Sto. Victore (in Trench on Miracles, p. 237).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 221
It was iii the depth and spontaneity of His human emotion that
our Lord had touched the leper into health. But it was His present
desire to fulfil the Mosaic Law by perfect obedience ; and both in
proof of the miracle, and out of consideration to the sufferer, and in
conformity with the Levitical ordinance, He bade the leper go and
show himself to the priest, make the customary offerings, and obtain
the legal certificate that he was clean.1 He accompanied the direc
tion with a strict and even stern injunction to say not one word of it
to any one." It appears from this that the suddenness with which
the miracle had been accomplished had kept it secret from all, except
perhaps a few of our Lord's immediate followers, although it had
been wrought in open day, and in the immediate neighborhood of a
city, and at no great distance from the following multitudes. But
why did our Lord on this, and many other occasions, enjoin on the
recipients of the miracles a secrecy which they so rarely observed?
The full reason perhaps we shall never know, but that it had refer
ence to circumstances of time and place, and the mental condition of
those in whose favor the deeds' were wrought, is clear from the fact
that on one occasion at least, where the conditions were different, He

1 We shall speak more of leprosy hereafter, when we consider others of our
Lord's miracles. Perhaps no conception of it can be derived from any source
more fearfully than from Lev. xiii., xiv. The reader will find the subject fully
and learnedly treated in Jahn's Archaeologia Biblica, §§ 188, 189. The rites which
accompanied the sacerdotal cleansing of a, leper are described at length in Lev.
xiv. It was a long process, in two stages. First the priest had to come to him
outside the camp or town, to kill a sparrow over fresh water, to dip a living
sparrow with cedar-wood, scarlet wool, and hyssop into the blood-stained water,
to sprinkle the leper seven times with this strange aspergillum, and then let the
living bird loose, and pronounce the man clean. The man was then ,to shave off
his hair, bathe, remain seven days out of his house ; again shave, and bathe, and
return to the priest, bringing one lamb for a trespass-offering, and a second with
a ewe-lamb for a burnt and sin-offering (or, if too poor to do this, two young
pigeons), and flour and oil for a meat-offering. Some of the blood of the trespass-
offering, and some of the oil, was then put, with certain ceremonies, on the tip of
his right ear, the thumb of his right hand, and the great toe of his right foot, the
rest of the oil being poured upon his head. He was then pronounced clean.
There could not well be any dispute about the reality of the cleansing, after
ceremonials so elaborate as this, which are the main topic of the Mishnaic tract
Negaim, in fourteen chapters. Since writing the above note I have read
Delitzsch's Durch Krankheit zur Genesung, in which the whole rites are elabo
rately described.
*"Opa jur/Ssvi fiTjSiv Eiiciji (Mark i. 44). This probably is the correct reading
of B. The expression is much stronger than usual (see xiii. 2 ; xiv. 2). For
other instances of enjoined secrecy see Mark i. 25, 44 (Luke iv. 35 ; v. 14) ; Mark
iii. 12 (Matt. xii. 16) ; v. 43 (Luke viii. 56). It will be seen from this that such
commands were mainly given in the early part of the ministry.

222 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
even enjoined a publication of the mercy vouchsafed." Was it, ae
St. Chrysostom conjectures, to repress a spirit of boastfulness, and
teach men not to talk away the deep inward sense of God's great
gifts? or was it to avoid an over-excitement and tumult in the already
astonished multitudes of Galilee ? " or was it that He might be regarded
by them in His true light — not as a mighty Wonder-worker, not as
a universal Hakim, but as a Saviour by Revelation and by Hope ?
Whatever may have been the general reasons, it appears that in
this case there must have been some reason of special importance.
St. Mark, reflecting for us the intense and vivid impressions of St.
Peter, shows us, in his terse but most graphic narrative, that the
man's dismissal was accompanied on our Saviour's part with some
overpowering emotion. Not only is the word, " He straitly charged
him " (Mark i. 43), a word implying an extreme earnestness and even
vehemence of look and gesture, but the word for " forthwith sent
him away " is literally He " pushed " or " drove him forth." a What
was the cause for this severely inculcated order, for this instantaneous
dismissal ? Perhaps it was the fact that by touching the leper —
though the touch was healing — He would, in the eyes of an unrea
soning and unspiritual orthodoxy, be regarded as ceremonially unclean.
And that this actually did occur may be assumed from the expressly
mentioned fact that, in consequence of the manner in which this
incident was blazoned abroad by the cleansed sufferer, " He could not
openly enter into a city, but was without in desert places." * St. Luke
mentions a similar circumstance, though without giving any special
1 The Gadarene demoniac (Mark v. 19 ; Luke viii. 39).
2 As is clearly indicated in the beautiful reference to Isa. xiii. in Matt. xii.
15 — 20. No true Prophet regards such powers as being the real root of the mat
ter. At the best they are evidential, and that mainly to the immediate witnesses.
3 ip.ppip.riddp.Evoi avrap, EvBicoi i^s/iaXEv avrov (Mark i. 43). Euthymius
explains this word by avdrr}paoi ipfiXsipai xai iitidsidai rrjv x£cpaXtfv.m It
is true that both these words occur elsewhere in the picturesque and energetic
Greek of the Gospels, but generally in very strong senses — e. g. Matt. ix. 30, 38 ;
Mark i. 12 ; xiv. 5 ; John xi. 33. In Aquila and Symmachus also the word is used
of vehement indignation (Ps. vii. 11 ; Isa. xvii. 13). (Cf. 1?!, implying sorrow,
Gen. xl. 6, &c.) Some have supposed that ix/3aXsiv, merely in the sense of
" send forth," is due to the vagueness of the Hebrew words nW anri ishj . stm a
certain vehemence and urgency in our Lord's words to the leper is observable in
the change from the third to the first person in Luke v. 14. The i£e/3aXsv does
not imply that the miracle was done in a house ; it may mean " from the town "
(Alt). 4 Mark i. 45. " It was," says Lange (Life of Christ, E. Tr., ii. 443), " a sort of
Levitical quarantine." He is wrong, however, in taking itoXiv to mean "that
city," for St. Mark has not mentioned any city, and the word has no article.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 223
reason for it, and adds that Jesus spent the time in prayer.1 If,
however, the dissemination of the leper's story involved the necessity
for a short period of seclusion, it is clear that the multitude paid but
little regard to this Levitical uncleanness, for even in the lonely spot
to which Jesus had retired they thronged to Him from every quarter.
Whether the healing of the centurion's servant " took place before
or after this retirement is uncertain ; but from the fact that both St.
Matthew and St. Luke place it in close connection with the Sermon
on the Mount, we may suppose that the thronging of the multitudes
to seek Him even in desert places, may have shown that it would not
be possible for Him to satisfy the scruples of the Legalists by this
temporary retirement from human intercourse.
Our Lord had barely reached the town of Capernaum, where He
had fixed His temporary home, when He was met by a deputation
of Jewish elders' — probably the batlanim of the chief synagogue —
1 It is interesting to observe that St. Luke, more than the other Evangelists,
constantly refers to the private prayers of Jesus (iii. 21 ; vi. 12 ; ix. 18, 28 ; xi. 1 ;
xxiii. 34, 46).
2 Luke vii. 1 — 10 ; Matt. viii. 5 — 13. The points of difference between the heal
ing of the nobleman's son and this miracle are too numerous to admit of our
accepting the opinion of those who identify them.
3 St . Matthew's briefer and less accurate narrative represents the request as
coming from the centurion himself, on the every-day principle that " qui f acit per
alium facit per se." 184 For a similar case, comp. Matt. xx. 20 with Mark. x. 35
(Trench, on Miracles, p. 236). Of course if Inspiration were a supernatural, mir
aculous interposition, instead of, as we believe, a guiding and illuminating influ
ence, such apparent discrepancies would not exist. But, as the Jews wisely said
even of their adored Law DtK ''Jl pB&2 n"m iTnTI, " tne Law speaks with the
tongue of the sons of men" (Gittin, 41, 3 ; Babha Metsia, 31, 2 ; Nedarim, 2, 1;
Reland, Antt. Hebr. p. 140), so we say with St. Augustine, that the Evangelists
are perfectly sober and truthful witnesses, though they were not in trivial mat
ters miraculously exempted from insignificant imperfections of memory, and speak
to us as we speak to each other. I would not go so far as St. Augustine in saying
that they wrote " ut quisque meminerat vel ut cuique cordi erat ;" 185 but I would
ask with him, " An Scriptura Dei aliter nobiscum fuerat quam nostro more locu-
tura?186 (De Cons. Evv. ii. 20.) In the face of such obvious variations — trivial
indeed, yet real — such as exist between them, in recording exact words (e. g.,
those uttered in Gethsemane, or by the Apostles in the sinking ship), and facts
(e. g., the order of the Temptations and the Title on the Cross), I do not see how
their supernatural and infallible accuracy, as apart from their absolutely truthful
evidence, can be maintained. As, once more, is observed by St. Augustine, " Per
hujusmodi locutiones varias sednon contrarias discimus nihil in cujusque verbis
nos inspicere- debere nisi voluntatem," 1S1 &c. (ib. ii. 28). " Diversa multa," he says
elsewhere, " adversa nulla esse possunt." 188 The Manichasans, to whom this nar
rative was very distasteful, tried to reject it on the ground of this very discrepancy.
The free and candid manner in which St. Augustine meets and answers them is

224 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
to intercede with Him on behalf of a centurion, whose faithful and
beloved slave ' lay in the agony and peril of a paralytic seizure. It
might have seemed strange that Jewish elders should take this amount
of interest in one who, whether a Roman or not, was certainly a
heathen, and may not even have been a " proselyte of the gate." "
They explained, however, that not only did he love their nation — a
thing most rare in a Gentile, for, generally speaking, the Jews were
regarded with singular detestation , — but had even, at his own expense,
built them a synagogue, which, although there must have been several
in Capernaum, was sufficiently beautiful and conspicuous to be called
" the synagogue." 3 The mere fact of their appealing to Jesus shows
that this event belongs to an early period of His ministry when
myriads looked to Him with astonishment and hope, and before
the deadly exasperation of after days had begun. Christ immediately
granted their request. " I will go," He said, " and heal him." But
on the way they met other messengers from the humble and devout
centurion, entreating Him not to enter the unworthy roof of a Gen
tile, but to heal the suffering slave (as He had healed the son of the
courtier) by a mere word of power. As the centurion, though in a
subordinate office, yet had ministers ever ready to do his bidding,
so could not Christ bid viewless messengers to perform His will, with
out undergoing this personal labor ? The Lord was struck by so
remarkable a faith, greater than any which He had met with even
in Israel. He had found in the oleaster what He had not found in the
olive ; 4 and He drew from this circumstance the lesson, which fell
with such a chilling and unwelcome sound on Jewish ears, that when
well worth study. The reader will find some of his most important remarks on
this subject quoted or referred to by Archbishop Trench, Sermon on the Mount,
pp. 48—50.
] It has been suggested, and is not impossible, that the 6 itaii of St. Matthew's
Gospel may have risen out of a confusion from the Hebrew word. St. Luke,
however, calls the slave 6 itaii pov (vii. 7) as well as St. Matthew.
2 Alford points out that he is not designated by the terms usually applied to
proselytes (e. g„ in Acts x. 1, 2). He may have been one of the Samaritan soldiers
of Herod Antipas, or he may. have been at the head of a small Roman garrison at
Capernaum. 3 Luke vii. 5, rr)v dvv ay aoyrjv avroi (of his own accord) apxoSoptrjdev ijpiv.
There were said to be 400 synagogues in Jerusalem, and if Capernaum be Tell
Hum, there are among its ruins the apparent remains of at least two synagogues.
Perhaps when the traveller is sitting among the sculptured dZbris of white marble
which crown the low bluff on which Tell Hum stands, he may be in the ruins of
the actual building, which by its splendor ffttested the centurion's liberal and
kindly feelings towards the Jews, and which once rang with the echoes of the
Voice of Christ.
4 Aug. in Joh. tr. xvi.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 225
many of the natural children of the kingdom should be cast into
outer darkness, many should come from the East and the West, and
sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in - the kingdom of
heaven. But the centurion's messengers found on their return that
the healing word had been effectual, and that the cherished slave had
been restored to health.
It is not strange that, after days so marvellous as these, it was
impossible for Jesus to find due repose. From early dawn on the
mountain-top to late evening in whatever house He had selected for
His nightly rest, the multitudes came crowding about Him, not
respecting His privacy, not allowing for His weariness, eager to see
Him, eager to share His miracles, eager to listen to His words.
There was no time even to eat bread. Such a life is not only to the
last degree trying and fatiguing, but to a' refined and high-strung
nature, rejoicing in noble solitude, finding its purest and most perfect
happiness in lonely prayer, this incessant publicity, this apparently
illimitable toil becomes simply maddening, unless the spirit be sus
tained by boundless sympathy and love. But the heart of the
Saviour was so sustained. It is probably to this period that the
remarkable anecdote belongs which is preserved for us by St. Mark
alone. The kinsmen and immediate family of Christ, hearing of all
that He was doing, came from their home — perhaps at Cana, per
haps at Capernaum — to get possession of His person, to put Him
under constraint.1 Their informants had mistaken the exaltation
visible in all His words and actions — the intense glow of com
passion — the burning flame of love; they looked upon it as over-
excitement, exaggerated sensibility, the very delirium of beneficence
and zeal. To the world there has ever been a tendency to confuse
the fervor of enthusiasm with the eccentricity of a disordered genius.
" Paul, thou art mad," was the only comment which the Apostle's
passion of exalted eloquence produced on the cynical and blase intel
lect of the Roman Procurator." " He hath a devil," was the infer
ence suggested to many dull and worldly hearers after some of the
tenderest and divinest sayings of our Lord.3 " Brother Martin has a
1 Mark iii. 21, oi itap> avrov — a somewhat vague expression — seems some
thing like our colloquial expression " his people." From the curious accident that
the word xparrjdai occurs in the LXX. (2 Kings iv. 8), in immediate connection
with " eating bread," Bishop Wordsworth makes the surely too-ingenious conjecture
" that the mother of Christ supposed that she was imitating the good Shunamite
in her conduct to the prophet Elisha, in endeavoring to constrain them [qu. Him 1
unless, indeed, he refers avrov to rov oxXov, which is impossible] toeatbread."
2 Acts xxvi. 24. Cf. 2 Cor. v. 13.
8 John x. 20. 29

226 TnE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
fine genius," was the sneering allusion of Pope Leo X. to Luther.
" What crackbrained fanatics," observed the fine gentlemen of the
eighteenth century when they spoke of Wesley and Whitefield.
Similar, though not so coarse, was the thought which filled the mind
of Christ's wondering relatives, when they heard of this sudden and
amazing activity after the calm seclusion of thirty unknown and
unnoticed years. As yet they were out of sympathy with Him ; they
knew Him not, did not fully believe in Him ; they said, " He is beside
Himself." It was needful that they should be henceforth taught by
several decisive proofs that He was not of them ; that this was no
longer the Carpenter, the brother of James and Joses and Judas and
Simon, but the Son of God, the Saviour of the world.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 227

CHAPTER XX.
JESUS AT NAIN. ,
"Shall the dead arise, and praise thee?" — Ps. lxxxviii. 10.
If the common reading in the text of St. Luke (vii. 11) be right,
it was on the very day after these events that our Lord took His way
from Capernaum to Nain.1 Possibly — for, in the dim uncertainties
of the chronological sequence, much scope must be left to pure con
jecture — the incident of His having touched the leper may have
tended to hasten His temporary departure from Capernaum by the
comments which the act involved.
Nain — now a squalid and miserable village — is about twenty-five
miles from Capernaum, and lies on the north-west slope of Jebel
el-Duhy, or Little Hermon. The name (which it still retains) means
" fair," and its situation near Endor — nestling picturesquely on the
hill-slopes of the graceful mountain, and full in view of Tabor and
the heights of Zebulon — justifies the flattering title. Starting, as
Orientals always do, early in the cool morning hours, Jesus, in all
probability, sailed to the southern end of the lake, and then passed
down the Jordan valley, to the spot where the wadies of the Esdrae-
lon slope down to it ; from which point, leaving Mount Tabor on the
right hand, and Endor on the left, He might easily have arrived at
the little village soon after noon.
At this bright and welcome period of His ministry, He was usually
accompanied, not only by His disciples, but also by rejoicing and
adoring crowds. And as this glad procession, so full of their high
hopes and too-often-erring beliefs about the coming King, was climb
ing the narrow and rocky ascent which leads to the gate of Nain,
they were met by another and a sad procession issuing through it to
1 The narratives of this chapter are mostly peculiar to St. Luke (vii. 11  50).
The message of St. John Baptist's disciples is, however, also related by St. Mat
thew (xi. 2 — 19). iv ry i^ifi (sc. tfpspa) must mean, " on the next day." It is
true that the latter word is added in Luke ix. 37 ; but, on the other hand, it is
omitted in Acts xxi. 1; xxv. 17, &c. And when a wider range of time is intended,
St. Luke uses iv rap xaBE&rji; on the other hand, according to Meyer, when
fjp.ipa is understood, St. Luke never uses iv. See Alford, ad loc. 'Ev re? is
here the reading of A, B, L, &c. ; Tischendorf reads rtf with x (primd manu), C,
D, K, &c.

228 TRE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
bury a dead youth outside the walls.1 There was a pathos deeper
than ordinary in the spectacle, and therefore probably, in that emo
tional race, a wail wilder and sincerer than the ordinary lamentation.
For this boy was — in language which is all the more deeply mov
ing from its absolute simplicity, and which to Jewish ears would have
involved a sense of anguish yet deeper than to ours " — " the only son
of his mother, and she a widow." The sight of this terrible sorrow
appealed irresistibly to the Saviour's loving and gentle heart. Paus
ing only to say to the mother, "Weep not," He approached, and —
heedless once more of purely ceremonial observances — touched the
bier, or rather the open coffin in which the dead youth lay. It must
have been a moment of intense and breathless expectation. Unbid
den, but filled with indefinable awe, the bearers of the bier stood still.
And then through the hearts of the stricken mourners, and through
the hearts of the silent multitude, there thrilled the calm utterance,
" Young man, arise ! " Would that dread monosyllable 3 thrill also
through the unknown mysterious solitudes of death ? would it thrill
through the impenetrable darkness of the more-than-midnight which
has ever concealed from human vision the world beyond the grave ?
It did. The dead got up, and began to speak ; and He delivered
him to his mother.
No wonder that a great fear fell upon all. They might have
thought of Elijah and the widow of Sarepta ; of Elisha and the lady
of the not far distant Shunem. They too, the greatest of the Proph
ets, had restored to lonely women their dead only sons. But they
had done it with agonies and energies of supplication, wrestling in
prayer, and lying outstretched upon the dead ; 4 whereas Jesus had
wrought that miracle calmly, incidentally, instantaneously, in His own
name, by His own authority, with a single word. Could they judge
otherwise than that " God had visited His people ? "
It was about this time, possibly even on this same day,6 that our
1 The ordinary Jewish custom. The rough path near the entrance of Nein
must be added to the certain sites of events in the life of Christ. The rock-hewn
sepulchres oh the hill-side may well be as old as the time of Christ, and it is
probably to one of them that the youth's body was being carried.
2 Partly because to die childless was to them a terrible calamity ; partly because
the loss of offspring was often regarded as a direct punishment for sin (Jer. vi. 26 ;
Zech. xii. 10 ; Amos viii. 10).
3 Dip, kum ! It is at least natural to suppose that our Lord used the same
Aramaic word as to the daughter of Jairus, " Talitha cdmi " (Mark v. 41).
4 1 Kings xvii. 21 ; 2 Kings iv. 35.
5 Matt. xi. 2—19 ; Luke vii. 18— 35.— I am well aware of what Stier and others
say to the contrary ; but it is impossible and wholly unnecessary to give separate
reasons and proofs at each step of the narrative.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 229
Lord received a short but agitated message from His own great
Forerunner, John the Baptist. Its very brevity added to the sense
of doubt and sadness which it breathed. " Art Thou," he asked,
" the coming Messiah, or are we to expect another ? " l
Was this a message from him who had first recognized and pointed
out the Lamb of God ? from him who, in the rapture of vision, had
seen heaven opened and the Spirit descending on the head of Jesus
like a dove ?
It may be so. Some have indeed imagined that the message was
merely intended to satisfy the doubts of the Baptist's jealous and
disheartened followers; some, that his question only meant, "Art
Thou indeed the Jesus to whom I bore my testimony ? " " some, that
the message implied no latent hesitation, but was intended as a timid
suggestion that the time was now come for Jesus to manifest Himself
as the Messiah of His nation's theocratic hopes — perhaps even as a
gentle rebuke to Him for allowing His friend and Forerunner to
languish in a dungeon, and not exerting on his behalf the miraculous
power of which these rumors told. But these suggestions — all in
tended, as it were, to save the credit of the Baptist — are at the best
wholly unauthorized, and are partly refuted by the actual expressions
of the narrative. St. John Baptist in his heroic greatness needs not
the poor aid of our charitable suppositions : we conclude from the
express words of Him, who at this very crisis pronounced upon him
the most splendid eulogy ever breathed over mortal man, that the
great and noble prophet had indeed, for the moment, found a stum
bling-block to his faith in what he heard about the Christ.3
And is this natural ? is it an indecision which any one who knows
anything of the human heart will venture for a moment to condemn ?
The course of the greatest of the Prophets had been brief and tragi
cal — a sad calendar of disaster and eclipse. Though all men flocked

1 The ETEpov of Matt. xi. 3 would strictly mean either " a second " or " one quite
different ; " but as the messenger doubtless spoke in ATamaic, the variation from
the dXXov of Luke vii. 19 must not be pressed.
2 The main argument for this is that in Matt. xi. 2 it says that John had heard
in prison the works of the Messiah (rov Xpidrov), not as elsewhere in St. Mat
thew, rot? 'Ir/dov. It must be borne in mind that in the Gospels " Christ " is
always a title, scarcely ever a proper name. It did not become a name till after
the Resurrection. Moreover, it appears that some of the rumors about Jesus were
that He was Elijah, or Jeremiah, and these may have tended to confuse the prison-
clouded mind of John (Just. Mart., Quaest. ad Orthod. 34, quoted by Alford). Dr.
Lightfoot (On Revision, p. 100) says that Xpidroi is never found in the Gospels
with 'Iifdovi, except in John xvii. 3 (but add Matt. i. 1, 18 ; Mark i. 1).
3 Matt. xi. 11

230 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
in multitudes to listen to the fiery preacher of the wilderness, the
real effect on the mind of the nation had been neither permanent nor
deep.' We may say with the Scotch poet —
" Who listened to his voice 1 obeyed his cry ?
Only the echoes which he made relent
Rang from their flinty caves, ' Repent 1 repent I ' "
Even before Jesus had come forth in the fulness of His ministry, the
power and influence of John had paled like a star before the sunrise.
He must have felt very soon — and that is a very bitter thing for any
human heart to feel — that his mission for this life was over;
that nothing appreciable remained for him to do. Similar moments
of intense and heart-breaking despondency had already occurred in
the lives of his very greatest predecessors — in the lives of even a
Moses and an Elijah. But the case was far worse with John the Bap
tist than with them. For though his Friend and his Saviour was liv
ing, was at no great distance from him, was in the full tide of His influ
ence, and was daily working the miracles of love which attested His
mission, yet John saw that Friend and Saviour on earth no more.
There were no visits to console, no intercourse to sustain him;
he was surrounded only by the coldness of listeners whose curiosity
had waned, and the jealousy of disciples whom his main testimony
had disheartened. And then came the miserable climax. Herod
Antipas — the pettiest, meanest, weakest, most contemptible of titular
princelings — partly influenced by political fears, partly enraged
by John's just and blunt rebuke of his adulterous life, though at
first he had listened to the Baptist with the superstition which is the
usual concomitant of cunning, had ended by an uxorious concession
to the hatred of Herodias, and had flung him into prison.
Josephus tells us that this prison was the fortress of Machserus, or
Makor, a strong and gloomy castle, built by Alexander Jannseus and
strengthened by Herod the Great — on the borders of the desert, to
the north of the Dead Sea, and on the frontiers of Arabia." We
know enough of sofitary castles and Eastern dungeons to realize
what horrors must have been involved for any man in such an
imprisonment ; what possibilities of agonizing torture, what daily risk
of a violent and unknown death. . How often in the world's history
have even the most generous and dauntless spirits been crushed, and
effeminated by such hopeless captivity. When the first noble rage, or
1 Matt. xi. 18 ; xxi. 23—27 ; John v. 35.
5 Hitzig says that "H3P means " diadem." The ruins of it have rarely been
visited, but were discovered, or at any rate heard of, by Seetzen in 1807.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 231
heroic resignation, is over — when the iron-hearted endurance is
corroded by forced inactivity and maddening solitude — when the
great heart is cowed by the physical lassitude and despair of a life left
to rot away in the lonely darkness — who can be answerable for the
level of depression to which he may sink ? Savonarola, and Jerome
of Prague, and Luther were men whose courage, like that of the Baptist,
had enabled them to stand unquailing before angry councils and
threatening kings: will any one, in forming an estimate of then*
goodness and their greatness, add one shade of condemnation
because of the wavering of the first and of the second in the prison-
cells of Florence and Constance, or the phantasies of incipient
madness which agitated, in the castle of Wartburg, the ardent spirit
of the third ? And yet to St. John Baptist imprisonment must have
been a deadlier thing than even to Luther ; for in the free wild life
of the hermit he had lived in constant communion with the sights
and sounds of nature, had breathed with delight and liberty the free
winds of the wilderness, and gazed with a sense of companionship on
the large stars which beam from the clear vault of the Eastern night.
To a child of freedom and of passion, to a rugged, passionate, untamed
spirit like that of John, a prison was worse than death. For the
palms of Jericho and the balsams of Engedi, for the springing of the
beautiful gazelles amid the mountain solitudes, and the reflection of
the moonlight on the mysterious waves of the Salt Lake, he had
nothing now but the chilly damps and cramping fetters of a dungeon,
and the brutalities of such a jailor as a tetrarch like Antipas would
have kept in a fortress like Makor. In that black prison, among its
lava streams and basaltic rocks, which was tenanted in reality by far
worse demons of human brutality and human vice than the "goats"
and "satyrs" and doleful creatures believed by Jewish legend to
haunt its whole environment, we cannot wonder if the eye of the
caged eagle began to film.
Not once or twice alone in the world's history has God seemed to
make His very best and greatest servants drink to the very dregs the
cup of apparent failure — called them suddenly away by the sharp
stroke of martyrdom, or down the long declivities of a lingering
disease, before even a distant view of their work has been vouchsafed
to them; flung them, as it were, aside like broken instruments,
useless for their destined purpose, ere He crowned with an immortality
of success and blessing the lives which fools regarded as madness, and
the end that has been without human honor. It is but a part
of that merciful fire in which he is purging away the dross from the
seven-times-refined gold of a spirit which shall be worthy of eternal

232 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
bliss. But to none could this disciplinary tenderness have come in
more terrible disguise than to St. John. For he seemed to be
neglected not only by God above, but by the living Son of God on
earth. John was pining in Herod's prison while Jesus, in the glad
simplicity of His early Galilaean ministry, was preaching to rejoicing
multitudes among the mountain lilies or from the waves of the
pleasant lake. Oh, why did his Father in heaven and his Friend on
earth suffer him to languish in this soul-clouding misery? Had
not his life been innocent ? had not his ministry been faithful ? had
not his testimony been true ? Oh, why did not He, to whom he had
borne witness beyond Jordan, call down fire from heaven to shatter
those foul and guilty towers ? Among so many miracles might not
one be spared to the unhappy kinsman who had gone before His face
to prepare His way before Him? Among so many words of mercy
and tenderness might not some be vouchsafed to him who had
uttered that Voice in the wilderness ? Why should not the young Son
of David rock with earthquake the foundations of these Idumsean
prisons, where many a noble captive had been unjustly slain, or send
but one of His twelve legions of angels to liberate His Forerunner
and His friend, were it but to restore him to his desert solitude once
more — content there to end his life among the wild beasts, so it were
far from man's tyrannous infamy, and under God's open sky ? What
wonder, we say again, if the eye of the caged eagle began to film !
"Art Thou He that should come, or do we look for another?"
Jesus did not directly answer the question. He showed the
messengers, he let them see with their own eyes , some of the works
of which hitherto they had only heard by the hearing of the ear.
And then, with a reference to the 61st chapter of Isaiah, He
bade them take back to their master the message, that blind men saw,
and lame walked, and lepers were cleansed, and deaf heard, and
dead were raised ; ' and above all, and more than all, that to the poor
the glad tidings were being preached : and then, we can imagine
with how deep a tenderness, He added, " And blessed is he whoso
ever shall not be offended in Me" — blessed (that is) is he who shall
trust Me, even in spite of sorrow and persecution — he who shall
believe that I know to the utmost the will of Him that sent Me, and
how and when to finish His work-
1 Even if the spiritual meaning did not predominate in these expressions, as
seems to be clear from the words which formed their climax, yet, the recent
miracle at Nain would alone suffice to justify this allusion. I may observe here
that I quote from these latter chapters of " Isaiah " without thinking it necessary
to call the writer of them, as Ewald does, " the Great Unnamed."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 233
We may easily suppose, though nothing more is told us, that the
disciples did not depart without receiving from Jesus other words of
private affection and encouragement for the grand prisoner whose
end was now so nearly approaching — words which would be to him
sweeter than the honey which had sustained his hunger in the wilder
ness, dearer than water-springs in the dry ground. And no sooner
had the disciples departed, than He who would not seem to be guilty
of idle flattery, but yet wished to prevent His hearers from cherish
ing one depreciatory thought of the great Prophet of the Desert,
uttered over His friend and Forerunner, in language of rhythmic
and perfect loveliness, the memorable eulogy, that he was indeed the
promised Voice in the new dawn of a nobler day, the greatest of all
God's herald messengers — the Elias who, according to the last word
of ancient prophecy, was to precede the Advent of the Messiah, and
to prepare His way.
" What went ye out into the wilderness for to see ?
" A reed shaken by the wind ?
" But what went ye out for to see ?
" A man clothed in soft raiment ?
" Behold, they that wear soft clothing are in kings' houses ! '
"But what went ye out for to see ?
" A prophet ?
" Yea, I say unto you, and far more than a prophet. For this is
he of whom it is written, Behold, I send My messenger before Thy
face, who shall prepare Thy way before Thee."
And having pronounced this rhythmic and impassioned eulogy,
Ee proceeded to speak to them more calmly respecting Himself and
John, and to tell them that though John was the last and greatest
of the Old Dispensation, yet the least in the kingdom of heaven was,
greater than he. The brevity with which the words are repeated leaves
their meaning uncertain ; but the superiority intended is a superiority
doubtless in spiritual privileges, not in moral exaltation. " The least
of that which is greatest," says a legal maxim, " is greater than the
greatest of that which is least;" " and in revealed knowledge, in
illimitable hope, in conscious closeness of relationship to His Father
and His God, the humblest child of the New Covenant is more richly
1 " Those in gorgeous apparel and luxury," is the slight variation in St. Luke.
John, 'too, had been in kings' houses, but it was in hairy mantle, and not to praise,
but to denounce. As Lange finely observes, John was not a reed waving in the
wind, but rather a cedar half-uprooted by the storm.
2 Maldonatus, quoted by Meyer — " minimum maximi est majus maximo
minimi." I69
30

234 TBE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
endowed than the greatest prophet of the Old. And into that king
dom of God whose advent was now proclaimed, henceforth with holy
and happy violence they all might press. Such eager violence —
natural to those who hunger and thirst after righteousness — would
be only acceptable in the sight of God.1
Many who heard these words, and especially the publicans and
those who were scorned as the " people of the earth," " accepted with
joy and gratitude this approbation of their confidence in John. But
there were others — the accredited teachers of the written and oral
Law — who listened to such words with contemptuous dislike.
Struck with these contrasts, Jesus drew an illustration from peevish
children who fretfully reject every effort of their fellows to delight
or to amuse them. Nothing could please such soured and rebellious
natures. The flute and dance of the little ones who played at wed
dings charmed them as little as the long wail of the simulated
funeral. God's " richly-variegated wisdom " had been exhibited to
them in many fragments, and by many methods,3 yet all in vain.
John iad come to them in the stern asceticism of the hermit, and
they called him mad ; Jesus joined in the banquet and the marriage-
feast, and they called Him " an eater and a wme-drinker." * Even
so ! yet Wisdom has been ever justified at her children's hands.
Those children have not disgraced their divine original. Fools
might account their life as madness, and their end to be without
honor ; but how is the very humblest of them numbered among the
children of God, and their lot, among the saints ! 6
1 Cf. Isa. Ix. 8, 11 ; Luke v. 1 ; xiii, 24.
2 The am ha-arets, or as we should say, " mere boors."
3 7? itoXvitoixiXoi doqtia (Eph. iii. 10) ; itoXvfiEpaoi xai TtoXvrpoitooi
¦ (Heb. i. 1).
4 Matt. xi. 16 — 19 ; Luke vii. 31 — 35. The A. V., " a gluttonous man and a
wine-bibber," is perhaps a shade too strong ; the words do not necessarily mean
more than a bon want, but perhaps they correspond to expressions which con
noted something more in Aramaic, cpdyoi does not occur in the LXX., but
oivoitorT/i is found in Prov. xxiii. 20.
5 Wisd. v. 4, 5 ; cf. Ps. Ii. 4; Rom. iii. 4. I have embodied into the text, with
out expansion, reference, or comment, the view which seems to me the best ; and
I have followed the same method of dealing with many other passages of which
the exegesis is confessedly difficult, and to some extent uncertain. I cannot
accept Ewald's notion that the allusion is to a kind of " guessing-game," where
the children had to pay forfeit if they failed to understand the scene which their
fellows were acting.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 235

CHAPTER XXI.
THE SINNER AND THE PHARISEE.
"Because of the savor of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured
forth."— Cant. i. 3.
But not even yet apparently were the deeds and sayings of this
memorable day concluded ; for in the narrative of St. Luke it seems
to have been on the same day that, perhaps at Nain, perhaps at Mag
dala, Jesus received and accepted an invitation from one of the Phar
isees who bore the very common name of Simon.1
The cause or object of the invitation we do not know; but as yet
Jesus had come to no marked or open rupture with the Pharisaic
party, and they may even have imagined that He might prove of use
to them as the docile instrument of their political and social purposes.
Probably, in inviting him, Simon was influenced partly by curiosity,
partly by the desire to receive a popular and distinguished teacher,
partly by willingness to show a distant approval of something which
may have struck him in Christ's looks, or words, or ways. It is
quite clear that the hospitality was meant to be qualified and conde
scending. All the ordinary attentions which would have been paid
to an honored guest were coldly and cautiously omitted. There was
1 Luke vii. 36 — 50. Those who identify this feast at the house of Simon the
Pharisee, in Galilee, with the long-subsequent feast at the house of Simon the
leper, at Bethany, and the anointing of the feet by " a woman that was a sinner
in the city," with the anointing of the head by Mary the Bister of Martha, adopt
principles of criticism so reckless and arbitrary that their general acceptance
would rob the Gospels of all credibility, and make them hardly worth study as
truthful narratives. As for the names Simon and Judas, which have led to so
many identifications of different persons and different incidents, they were at least
as common among the Jews of that day as Smith and Jones among ourselves.
There are five or six Judes, and nine Simons mentioned in the New Testament,
and two Judes and two Simons among the Apostles alone. Josephus speaks of
some ten Judes and twenty Simons in his writings, and there must, therefore,
have been thousands of others who at this period had one of these two names.
The incident is one quite in accordance with the customs of the time and coun
try, and there is not the least improbability in its repetition under different
circumstances (Eccles. ix. 8; Cant. iv. 10; Amos vi. 6; Jer. Berachoth,i. 11,2;
Sen. Ep. 86; Aul. Gell. vii. 12, &c). The custom still ^continues (Renan, Vie de
Jesus, p. 385).

236 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
no water for the weary and dusty feet, no kiss of welcome upon the
cheek, no perfume for the hair, nothing but a somewhat ungracious
admission to a vacant place at the table, and the most distant courte
sies of ordinary intercourse, so managed that the Guest might feel
that he was supposed to be receiving an honor, and not to be confer
ring one.
In order that the mats or carpets which are hallowed by domestic
prayer may not be rendered unclean by any pollution of the streets,
each guest, as he enters a house in Syria or Palestine, takes off his
sandals, and leaves them at the door. He then proceeds to his place
at the table. In ancient times, as we find throughout the Old Testa
ment,1 it was the custom of the Jews to eat their meals sitting cross-
legged — as is still common throughout the East — in front of a tray
placed on a low stool, on which is set the dish containing the heap of
food, from which all help themselves in common. But this custom,
though it has been resumed for centuries, appears to have been aban-'
doned by the Jews in the period succeeding the Captivity. Whether
they had borrowed the recumbent posture at meals from the Persians
or not, it is certain, from the expressions employed, that in the time
of our Lord the Jews, like the Greeks and Romans, reclined at ban
quets," upon couches placed round tables of much the same height as
those now in use. We shall see hereafter that even the Passover
was eaten in this attitude. The beautiful and profoundly moving
incident which occurred in Simon's house can only be understood by
remembering that as the guests lay on the couches which surrounded
the tables, their feet would be turned towards any spectators who
were standing outside the circle of bidden guests.
An Oriental's house is by no means his castle. The universal prev
alence of the law of hospitality — the very first of Eastern virtues —
almost forces him to five with open doors, and any one may at any
time have access to his rooms.3 But on this occasion there was one
who had summoned up courage to intrude upon that respectable
dwelling-place a presence which was not only unwelcome, but posi
tively odious. A poor, stained, fallen woman, notorious in the place
' The word used is generally **} (Gen. xxvii. 19), or 3?p (1 Sam. xvi. 11, " We
will not sit round; '' cf. 1 Sam. xx. 5, 18 ; Ps. cxxviii. 3 ; Cant. i. 12, &c.) ; and
we do not hear of reclining till the Exile (Esth'. i. 6 ; vii. 8).
2 The words used are dvaxiitTEiv (Luke xi. 37; John xxi. 20; Tobit ii. 1),
dvaxEidBai (Luke vii. 37 ; cf. 3 Esdras iv. 10), dvaxXivedBai (Luke vii. 36 ; xii.
37; Judith xii. 15) ; cf. d pxir pixXiv oi (John ii. 8).
3 The author had opportunities of observing this in Palestine. When we1 were
at a Sheykh's house, the population took a great interest in inspecting us.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 237
for her evil life, discovering that Jesus was supping in the house of
the Pharisee,1 ventured to make her way there among the throng of
other visitants, carrying with her an alabaster box of spikenard. She
found the object of her search, and as she stood humbly behind Him,
and listened to His words, and thought of all that He was, and all to
which she had fallen — thought of the stainless, sinless purity of the
holy and youthful Prophet, and of her own shameful, degraded
fife — she began to weep, and her tears dropped fast upon His un-
sandalled feet, over which she bent lower and lower to hide her con
fusion and her shame. The Pharisee would have started back with
horror from the touch, still more from the tear, of such an one ; he
would have wiped away the fancied pollution, and driven off the pre
sumptuous intruder with a curse. But this woman felt instinctively
that Jesus would not treat her so ; she felt that the highest sinlessness
is also the deepest sympathy ; she saw that where the hard respect
ability of her fellow-sinner would repel, the perfect holiness of her
. Saviour would receive. Perhaps she had heard those infinitely ten
der and gracious words which may have been uttered on this' very
day " — " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest." And she was emboldened by being unreproved ;
and thus becoming conscious that, whatever others might do, the
Lord at any rate did not loathe or scorn her, she drew yet nearer to
Him, and, sinking down upon her knees, began with her long dishev
elled hair to wipe the feet which had been wetted with her tears,
and then to cover them with kisses, and at last — breaking the ala
baster vase — to bathe them with the precious and fragrant nard.3
The sight of that dishevelled woman, the shame of her humilia
tion, the agonies of her penitence, the quick dropping of her tears,
the sacrifice of that perfume which had been one of the instruments
of her unhallowed arts, might have touched even the stoniest feelings
into an emotion of sympathy. But Simon, the Pharisee, looked on
with icy dislike and disapproval. The irresistible appeal to pity of
that despairing and broken-hearted mourner did not move him. It
was not enough for him that Jesus had but suffered the unhappy
creature to kiss and anoint His feet, without speaking to her as yet
1 iitiyvovda (Luke vii. 37).
2 They are given by St. Matthew in close connection with the preceding events
(xi. 28); it is, however, clear that St. Matthew is here recording discourses, or
parts of discourses, which belong to different times.
3 The word dXdfladrpov is generic, i. e., it describes the use to which the little
phial was put, not necessarily the material of which it was made. [Cf. xpvde.i'
dXdfiadrpa (Theocr. Id. xv. 114) and the use of our word box; Herod, iii. 20 ;
Arist. Ach. 1053, &c.1

238 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
one word of encouragement. Had He been a prophet, He ought to
have known what kind of woman she was ; and had He known, He
ought to have repulsed her with contempt and indignation, >as Simon
would himself have done. Pier mere touch almost involved the
necessity of a ceremonial quarantine. One sign from Him, and
Simon would have been only too glad of an excuse for ejecting such
a pollution from. the shelter of his roof.
The Pharisee did not utter these thoughts aloud, but his frigid
demeanor, and the contemptuous expression of countenance, which
he did not take the trouble to disguise, showed all that was passing in
his heart. Our Lord heard his thoughts,1 but did not at once reprove
and expose his cold uncharity and unrelenting hardness. In order to
call general attention to his words, he addressed his host.
" Simon, I have something to say to thee."
" Master, say on," is the somewhat constrained reply.
" There was a certain creditor who had two debtors : the one owed
five hundred pence, and the other fifty ; and when they had nothing
to pay, he freely forgave them both. Tell me then, which of them
will love him most ? "
Simon does not seem to have had the slightest conception that the
question had any reference to himself — as little conception as David
had when he pronounced so frank a judgment on Nathan's parable.
" I imagine," he said — there is a touch of supercilious patronage,
of surprised indifference to the whole matter in the word he uses " —
" I presume that he to whom he forgave most."
" Thou hast rightly judged." And then — the sterner for its very
gentleness and forbearance — came the moral and application of the
little tale, couched in that rhythmic utterance of antithetic parallelism
which our Lord often adopted in His loftier teaching, and which
appealed like the poetry of their own prophets to the ears of those
who heard it. Though Simon may not have seen the point of the
parable, perhaps the penitent, with the quicker intuition of a contrite
heart, had seen it. But what must have been her emotion when He
who hitherto had not noticed her, now turned full towards her, and
calling the attention of all who were present to her shrinking figure,
as she sat upon the ground, hiding with her two hands and with her
dishevelled hair the confusion of her face, exclaimed to the astonished
Pharisee —

1 " Audivit Pharisaeum cogitantem" '90 (Aug., Serm. xcix.). "Guard well thy
thoughts, for thoughts are heard in heaven."
2 Luke vii. 43, vitoXapftdvoo. Cf. Acts ii. 15.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 239
" Simon ! dost thou mark ' this woman ?
" I was thine own guest : thou pouredst no water over my feet ; but
she, with her tears, washed my feet, and with her hair she wiped
them. " No kiss gavest thou to Me ; but she, since the time I came in, has
been ceaselessly covering my feet with kisses."
" My head with oil thou anointedst not ; but she with spikenard
anointed my feet.
" Wherefore I say to you, her sins — her many sins, have been
forgiven ; but he to whom there is but little forgiveness, loveth little."
And then like the rich close of gracious music, he added, no longer
to Simon, but to the poor sinful woman, the words of mercy, " Thy
sins have been forgiven."
Our Lord's words were constantly a new revelation for all who
heard them, and if we may judge from many little indications in the
Gospels, they seem often to have been followed, in the early days of
His ministry, by a shock of surprised silence, which at a later date,
among those who rejected Him, broke out into fierce reproaches and
indignant murmurs. At this stage of His work, the spell of awe and
majesty produced by His love and purity, and by that inward Divin
ity which shone in His countenance and sounded in His voice, had
not yet been broken. It was only in their secret thoughts that the
guests — rather, it seems, in astonishment than in wrath — ventured
to question this calm and simple claim to a more than earthly attri
bute. It was only in their hearts that they silently mused and ques
tioned, " Who is this, who f orgiveth sins also ? " Jesus knew their
inward hesitations ; but it had been prophesied of Him that " He
should not strive nor cry, neither should His voice be heard in the
streets ; " and because He would not break the bruised reed of their
faith, or quench the smoking flax of their reverent amazement, He
gently sent away the woman who had been a sinner with the kind
words, " Thy faith hath saved thee : go into peace." 3 And to peace
beyond all doubt she went, even to the peace of God which passeth
1 jiXiitEii, not opcji (ver. 44). Perhaps Simon had disdained even to look at
her attentively, as though even that would stain his sanctity 1 The " I was thine
own guest" is an attempt to bring out the force of the dov Eii rrjv otxiav. The
iiti rovi itoSai implies the pouring. Cf. Rev. viii. 3 ; Gen. xviii. 4 ; Judg.
xix. 21.
2 There is a contrast between the mere cpiXtjpa and the xaracpiXovda (ver. 45).
3 Verse 50, eii Eipijvrjv, not only "in," but "to ov for peace"; the Hebrew
d'Sd-S.

240 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
all understanding, to the peace which Jesus gives, which is not as the
world gives. To the general lesson which her story inculcates we
shall return hereafter, for it is one which formed a central doctrine
of Christ's revelation ; I mean the lesson that cold and selfish hypoc
risy is in the sight of God as hateful as more glaring sin ; the lesson
that a life of sinful and impenitent respectability may be no less
deadly and dangerous than a life of open shame. But meanwhile
the touching words of an English poet may serve as the best comment
on this beautiful incident : —
" She sat and wept beside his feet ; the weight
Of sin oppressed her heart ; for ail the blame,
And the poor malice of the worldly shame,
To her were past, extinct, and out of date ;
Only the sin remained — the leprous state.
She would be melted by the heat of love,
By fires far fiercer than are blown to prove
And purge the silver ore adulterate.
She sat and wept, and with her untressed hair,
Still wiped the feet she was so blessed to touch ;
And he wiped off the soiling of despair
From her sweet soul, because she loved so much." '
An ancient tradition — especially prevalent in the Western Church,
and followed by the translators of our English version — a tradition
which, though it must ever remain uncertain, is not in itself improba
ble, and cannot be disproved ¦ — identifies this woman with Mary of
Magdala, " out of whom Jesus cast seven devils." " This exorcism is
not elsewhere alluded to, and it would be perfectly in accordance ¦
with the genius of Hebrew phraseology if the expression had been
applied to her, in consequence of a passionate nature and an abandoned
life. The Talmudists have much to say respecting her — her wealth,
her extreme beauty, her braided locks, her shameless profligacy, her
1 Hartley Coleridge.
2 This tradition is alluded to by Ambrose (in Luc), Jerome (in Matt. xxvi. 6),
and Augustine (De Cons. Evang. 69), and accepted by Gregory the Great (Horn, in
Evv. 33). Any one who has read my friend Professor Plumptre's article on
" Mary Magdalene," in Smith's Diet, of the Bible, will perhaps be surprised that I
accept even the possibility of this identification, which he calls " a figment utterly
baseless." I have partly answered the supposed objections' to the identification
in the text, and mainly differ from Professor Plumptre in his view of the
" seven demons." This, he says, is incompatible with the life implied by the
word dpaprGoXoi. To which I reply by referring to Luke iv. 33 ; Matt, x, 1, &c.
Gregory the Great rightly held that the " seven demons " may have been applied
to the " many sins," for Lightfoot has shown that the Rabbis applied drunken
ness and lust to the immediate agency of demons (». supr., p. 193V

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 241
husband Pappus, and her paramour Pandera ; ' but all that we really
know of the Magdalene from Scripture is that enthusiasm of devotion
and gratitude which attached her, heart and soul, to her Saviour's
service. In the chapter of St. Luke which follows this incident she
is mentioned first among the women who accompanied Jesus in His
wanderings, and ministered to Him of then substance ; " and it may
be that in the narrative of the incident at Simon's house her name
was suppressed, out of that delicate consideration which, in other
passages, makes the Evangelist suppress the condition of Matthew
and the name of Peter. It may be, indeed, that the woman who was
a sinner went to find the peace which Christ had promised to her
troubled conscience in a life of deep seclusion and obscurity, which
meditated in silence on the merciful forgiveness of her Lord ; but in
the popular consciousness she will till the end of time be identified
with the Magdalene whose very name has passed into all civilized
languages as a synonym for accepted penitence and pardoned sin.
The traveller who, riding among the delicate perfumes of many
flowering plants on the shores of Gennesareth, comes to the ruinous
tower and solitary palm-tree that mark the Arab village of El Mejdel,
will involuntarily recall this old tradition of her whose sinful beauty
and deep repentance have made the name of Magdala so famous ;
and though the few miserable peasant huts are squalid and ruinous,
and the inhabitants are living in ignorance and degradation, he will
still look with interest and emotion on a site which brings back into
his memory one of the most signal proofs that no one — not even the
most fallen and the most despised — is regarded as an outcast by
Him whose very work it was to seek and save that which was lost.
Perhaps in the balmy air of Gennesareth, in the brightness of the
sky above his head, in the sound of the singing birds which fills the .
air, in the masses of purple blossom which at some seasons of the
year festoons these huts of mud, he may see a type of the dove and
tenderness which is large and rich enough to encircle with the grace
of fresh and heavenly beauty the ruins of a once earthly and dese
crated life.3
1 The reader will, I am sure, excuse me from the tedious task of reproducing
all these venomous and absurd fictions, which are as devoid of literary as they are
of historic value.
2 Luke viii. 2.
3 Any one who cares to see the various plays on, and derivations suggested for,
the name Magdalene, can do so in Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. in Matt. xxvi. 6, and
Prof. Plumptre ubi supr. Nothing can be inferred against its meaning "of
Magdala " from the 77 xaXovfiivrj of Luke viii. 2.
31

242 TRE LIFE 0F CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXII.
JESUS AS HE LIVED IN GALILEE.
to ydp itdBoi Xpidrov rip.Gov ditdBeid sdnv . . . xai rd Sdxpvov
avrov x<*Pa r}pErepa.m — Athan., De Incarn.
It is to this period of our Lord's earlier ministry that those mission
journeys belong — those circuits through the towns and villages of
Galilee, teaching, and preaching, and performing works of mercy—
which are so frequently alluded to in the first three Gospels, and
which are specially mentioned at this point of the narrative by the
Evangelist St. Luke. " He walked in Galilee." ' It was the bright
est, hopefullest, most active episode in His life. Let us, in imagina
tion, stand aside and see Him pass, and so, with all humility and
reverence, set before us as vividly as we can what manner of man
He was.
Let us then suppose ourselves to mingle with any one fragment
of those many multitudes which at this period awaited Him at every
point of His career, and let us gaze on Him as they did when He was
a man on earth."
1 Matt. iv. 23 ; ix. 35 ; Mark i. 39 ; Luke iv. 15, 44 ; John vii. 1 : itepiEitdrEi
— " ambulando docebat " 19! (Bretschneider). In this part of the narrative I mainly
follow St. Luke's order, only varying from it where there seems reason for doing
so. I have, however, already stated my disbelief in the possibility of a final har
mony ; and in a few instances where no special order is discernible in the narra
tive of the Evangelists, I have followed a, plan distinctly sanctioned by the prac
tice of St. Matthew — viz., that of grouping together events which have a sub
jective connection. Any one who has long and carefully studied the Gospels has
probably arrived at a strong opinion as to the possible or even probable order of
events ; but when he sees no two independent harmonists agreeing even in the
common chronological principles or data (e. g., even as to the number of years in
Christ's ministry), he will probably feel that the order he adopts will carry no
conviction to others, however plausible it may seem to himself. I agree, how
ever, more nearly with Lange and Stier — though by no means adopting their
entire arrangement — than with most other writers.
2 The general idea of this chapter, and many of its details, were suggested to
me by an exceedingly beautiful and interesting little tract of Dr. F. Delitzsch,
called Sehct welch ein Mensch. Ein Geschichtsgemalde.193 (Leipzig, 1869.) Some
may perhaps consider that both Dr. Delitzsch and I have given too much scope to
the imagination ; but, with the exception of one or two references to early tradi
tion, they will scarcely find an incident, or even an expression, which is not sanc
tioned by notices in the Evangelists.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 243
We are on that little plain ' that runs betwen the hills of Zebulon
and Naphtali, somewhere between the villages of Kefr Kenna and
the so-called Kana el-Jalil. A sea of corn, fast yellowing to the har
vest, is around us, and the bright, innumerable flowers that broider
the wayside are richer and larger than those of home. The path on
which we stand leads in one direction to Accho and the coast, in the
other over the summit of Hattin to the Sea of Galilee. The land is
lovely with all the loveliness of a spring day in Palestine, but the
hearts of the eager, excited crowd, in the midst of which we stand,
are too much occupied by one absorbing thought to notice its beauty ;
for some of them are blind, and sick, and lame, and they know not
whether to-day a finger of mercy, a word of healing — nay, even the
touch of the garment of this great Unknown Prophet as He passes
by — may not alter and gladden the whole complexion of their future
fives. And farther back, at a little distance from the crowd, stand
ing among the wheat, with covered lips, and warning off all who
approach them with the cry Tawd, Tame — " Unclean ! unclean ! "
— clad in mean and scanty garments, are some fearful and mutilated
figures whom, with a shudder, we recognize as lepers."
The comments of the crowd show that many different motives have
brought them together. Some are there from interest, some from
curiosity, some from the vulgar contagion of enthusiasm which they
cannot themselves explain. Marvellous tales of Him — of His mercy,
of His power, of His gracious words, of His mighty deeds — are
passing from lip to lip, mingled, doubtless, with suspicions and cal
umnies. One or two Scribes and Pharisees who are present, holding
themselves a little apart from the crowd, whisper to each other their
perplexities, their indignation, their alarm.
Suddenly over the rising ground, at no great distance, is seen the
cloud of dust which marks an approaching company ; and a young
boy of Magdala or Bethsaida, heedless of the scornful reproaches of
the Scribes, points in that direction, and runs excitedly forward with
the shout of Malka Meshichahl Malka Meshichah — "the King
Messiah ! the King Messiah ! " — which even on youthful lips must
have quickened the heart-beats of a simple Galilaean throng.3
And now the throng approaches. It is a motley multitude of young
1 Assochis ; now called El Buttauf.
2 N9<? (Lev. xiii. 45 ; Numb. vi. 9). Cf. Ezek. xxiv. 17, " cover not thy lips."
3 I take the supposed incident in part from Dr. Delitzsch ; and after the
announcement of John the Baptist (John i. 26, 32, &c), and such incidents as
those recorded in Luke iv. 41, the surmise of John iv. 29 ; vii. 41 must have been
on many lips.

244 TSE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
and old, composed mainly of peasants, but with others of higher rank
interspersed in their loose array — here a frowning Pharisee, there a
gaily-clad Herodian ' whispering to some Greek merchant or Roman
soldier his scoffing comments on the enthusiasm of the crowd. But
these are the few, and almost every eye of that large throng is con
stantly directed towards One who stands in the centre of the separate
group which the crowd surrounds.
In the front of this group walk some of the newly-chosen Apostles :
behind are others, among whom there is one whose restless glance
and saturnine countenance " accord but little with that look of open
ness and innocence which stamps his comrades as honest men. Some
of those who are looking on whisper that he is a certain Judas of
Kerioth, almost the only follower of Jesus who is not a Galilsean. A
little further in the rear, behind the remainder of the Apostles, are
four or five women,3 some on foot, some on mules, among whom,
though they are partly veiled, there are some who recognize the once
wealthy and dissolute but now repentant Mary of Magdala ; and
1 In the Talmudic legend of the apostasy of Menahem and his 160 scholars from
the school of Hillel to the service of Herod ("]^Dn ITTOJ^> ; Chagiga, f. 16, 2 ;
Reland, Antt. Hebr., p. 251), one sign of their abandonment of the Oral Law was
glittering apparel. (Jost, Gesch. d. Judenth. i. 259.) Professor Plumptre ingen
iously illustrates this fact by a reference to Luke vii. 24 (Diet, of Bibl., s. v.
" Scribes ").
2 In the Apocryphal Gospels there is a notion that Judas had once been a
demoniac, whom Jesus, as a boy, had healed (Ev. Inf. Arab. c. xxxv. ; Hoffmann,
Leben Jesu noch d. Apokr. 202). For the legendary notion of his aspect, see the
story of St. Brandan, so exquisitely told by Mr. Matthew Arnold : —
'¦ At last (it was the Christmas night ;
Stars shone after a day of storm)
He sees float by an iceberg white,
And on it — Christ! — a living form !
" That furtive mien, that scowling eye,
Of hair that red and tufted fell ;
It is — oh, where shall Brandan fly? —
The traitor Judas, out of hell."
8 Perhaps more (Luke viii. 3, ETEpai itoXXal 194). It is curious that no mention
is made of the wife of Peter or of the other married Apostles (1 Cor. ix. 5). Of
Susanna here mentioned by St. Luke, absolutely nothing further is known.
Mary, the mother of James the Less, was another of these ministering women ;
and it is an illustration of the extreme paucity of names among the Jews, and the
confusion that results from it, that there are perhaps as many as seven Marys in
the Gospel History alone. (See a fragment attributed to Papias in Rouih, Relig.
Sacr. i. 16; Wordsworth on Matt. xii. 47; Ewald, Gesch. Christus, p. 401,3rd
edit.) The fact that they were ministering to Him of their substance shows, ,
among other circumstances, that there was no absolute community of goods in the
little band.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 245
Salome, the wife of the fisherman Zabdia ; and one of still higher
wealth and position, Joanna, the wife of Chuza, steward of Herod
Antipas.1 But He whom all eyes seek is in the very centre of the throng ;
and though at His right is Peter of Bethsaida, and at His left the
more youthful figure of John, yet every glance is absorbed by Him
alone. He is not clothed in soft raiment of byssus or purple, like Herod's
courtiers, or the luxurious friends of the Procurator Pilate : He does
not wear the white ephod of the Levite, or the sweeping robes of the
Scribe. There are not, on His arm and forehead, the tephillin or
phylacteries," which the Pharisees make so broad ; and though there
is at each corner of His dress the fringe and blue riband which the
Law enjoins, it is not worn of the ostentatious size affected by those
who wished to parade the scrupulousness of their obedience. He is
in the ordinary dress of his time and country. He is not bareheaded
— as painters usually represent Him — for to move about bareheaded
in the Syrian sunlight is impossible,3 but a white keffiyeh, such as is
worn to this day, covers his hair, fastened by an aghal or fillet round
the top of the head, and falling back over the neck and shoulders.
A large blue outer robe or tallith, pure and clean, but of the sim
plest materials, covers His entire person, and only shows occasional
1 The Blessed Virgin was not one of this ministering company. The reason for
her absence from it is not given. It is not impossible that a certain amount of
constraint was put upon her by the " brethren of the Lord," who on three distinct
occasions (Matt. xii. 46 ; Mark iii. 21 ; John vii. 3 : see pp. 227, 255) interfered
with Jesus, and on one of those occasions seem to have worked upon the suscep
tibilities even of His mother. Meanwhile her absence from Christ's journeyings
is an incidental proof of the deep seclusion in which she evidently lived — a seclu
sion sufficiently indicated by the silence of the Gospels respecting her, and which
accords most accurately with the incidental notices of her humble and meditative
character. 2 We cannot believe that Christ sanctioned by His own practice — at any rate,
in manhood — the idle and superstitious custom of wearing those little text-boxes,
which had in all probability originated merely in an unintelligent and slavishly
literal interpretation of a metaphorical command. For further information about
the tephillin, I may refer the reader to my article on " Frontlets " in Dr. Smith's
Diet, of the Bible, or to the still fuller article by Dr. Ginsburg in Kitto's Bibl,
Cyclop, s. v. "Phylacteries."
3 This must surely have occurred to every one after a moment's reflection, yet,
strange to say, I cannot recall one of the great works of mediaeval art in which the
Saviour is depicted with covered head. The ordinary articles of dress now are
the kumls, or inner shirt ; gumbdr, or kaftan, open gown of silk or cotton, overlap
ping in front ; zannar, or girdle ; abba, or abaiyeh, a strong, coarse cloak, in which
the wearer usually sleeps ; and tarbush, or fez. (See Thomson, Land and Book,
L, ch. ix.)

246 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
glimpses of the ketdneth, a seamless woolen tunic of the ordinary
striped texture, so common in the East, which is confined by a gir
dle round the waist, and which clothes Him from the neck almost
down to the sandalled feet. But the simple garments do not conceal
the King ; and though in His bearing there is nothing of the self-
conscious haughtiness of the Rabbi, yet, in its natural nobleness and
unsought grace, it is such as instantly suffices to check every rude
tongue and overawe every wicked thought.
And His aspect? % He is a man of middle size, and of about thirty
years of age, on whose face the purity and charm of youth are min
gled with the thoughtfulness and dignity of manhood. His hair,
which legend has compared to the color of wine, is parted in the
middle of the forehead, and flows down over the neck. His features
are paler and of a more Hellenic. type than the weather-bronzed and
olive-tinted faces of the hardy fishermen who are His Apostles ; but
though those features have evidently been marred by sorrow —
though it is manifest that those eyes, whose pure and indescribable
glance seems to read the very secrets of the heart, have often glowed
through tears — yet no man, whose soul has not been eaten away by sin
and selfishness, can look unmoved and unawed on the divine expres
sion of that calm and patient face. Yes, this is He of whom Moses
. and the Prophets did speak — Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of Mary,
and the Son of David ; and the Son of Man, and the Son of God.
Our eyes have seen the King in His beauty. We have beheld His
glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace
and truth. And having seen Him we can well understand how,
while He spake, a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice
and said, " Blessed is the womb that bare Thee, and the paps that
Thou hast sucked ! " " Yea, rather blessed," He answered, in words
full of deep sweet mystery, " are they that hear the word of God
and keep it."
One or two facts and features of His life on earth may here be
fitly introduced.
1. First, then, it was a fife of poverty. Some of the old Messi
anic prophecies, which the Jews in general so little understood,
had already indicated His voluntary submission to a humble lot."
1 See Excursus V., "On the Traditional Descriptions of the Appearance of
Jesus." 2 It seems impossible to trace the date or origin of the later Jewish conception
of a suffering Messias, the descendant of Joseph or Ephraim, which is found in
Zohar, Bab. Targ. Cant. iv. 5, &c. It is clear that the nation had not realized the
point of view which was familiar to the Apostles after Pentecost (see Acts iii. 18 ;

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 247
" Though He were rich, yet for our sakes He became poor." He
was born in the cavern-stable, cradled in the manger. His mother
offered for her purification the doves which were the offering of the
poor. The flight into Egypt was doubtless accompanied with many
a hardship, and when He returned it was to live as a carpenter, and
the son of a carpenter, in the despised provincial village. It was as
a poor wandering teacher, possessing nothing, that He travelled
through the land. With the words, "Blessed are the poor in spirit,"
He began His Sermon on the Mount ; and He made it the chief
sign of the opening dispensation that to the poor the Gospel was
being preached. It was a fit comment on this His poverty, that after
but three short years of His public ministry He was sold by one of
His own Apostles for the thirty shekels which were the price of the
meanest slave.
2. And the simplicity of His life corresponded to its external pov
erty. Never in His life did He possess a roof which He could call
His own. The humble abode at Nazareth was but shared with
numerous brothers and sisters. Even the house in Capernaum which
He so often visited was not His own possession ; it was lent Him by
one of His disciples. There never belonged to Him one f oot's-breadth
of the earth which He came to save. We never hear that any of the
beggars, who in every Eastern country are so numerous and so impor
tunate, asked Trim for alms. Had they done so He might have
answered with Peter, " Silver and gold have I none, but such as I
have that give I thee." His food was of the plainest. He was ready
indeed, when invited, to join in the innocent social happiness of
Simon's, or Levi's, or Martha's, or the bridegroom of Cana's feast ;
but His ordinary food was as simple as that of the humblest peasant
— bread of the coarsest quality,1 fish caught in the lake and broiled
in embers on the shore, and sometimes a piece of honeycomb, prob
ably of the wild honey which was then found abundantly in Pales
tine. Small indeed was the gossamer thread of semblance on which
His enemies could support the weight of their outrageous calumny,
xvii. 3 ; xxvi. 22, 23), and which Jesus had so often taught them (Matt. xvi. 21 ;
xvii. 10 — 12 ; Luke xvii. 25 ; xxiv. 25—27, 46) to regard as the fulfilment of olden
prophecy (Ps. xxii . ; Isa. 1. 6 ; liii. 2, &c).
1 So we infer from the " barley loaves " of John vi. 9. Barley bread was so
little palatable that it was given by way of punishment to soldiers who had
incurred disgrace. [" Cohortes si quae cessissent, decimatas hordeo pavit " I9S
(Sueton, Aug. 24). " Cohortibus quae signa dimiserant hordeum dari jussit"196
(Liv. xxvii. 13).] That the Jews had a similar feeling appears from an anecdote
in Pesachim, fol. 3, 2. Joharran said, " There is an excellent barley harvest."
They answered, " Tell that to horses and asses." (See Kuinoel on John vi. 9.)

248 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
" Behold a glutton and a wine-bibber." And yet Jesus, though poor,
was not a pauper. He did not for one moment countenance (as Sakya
Mouni did) the life of beggary, or say one word which could be per
verted into a recommendation of that degrading squalor which some
religious teachers have represented as the perfection of piety. He
never received an alms from the tamchui or kuppa, but He and the
little company of His followers lived on their lawful possessions or
the produce of their own industry, and even had a bag " or cash-box
of their own, both for their own use and for their charities to others.
From this they provided the simple necessaries of the Paschal feast,
and distributed what they could to the poor ; only Christ does not
Himself seem to have given money to the poor, because He gave
them richer and nobler gifts than could be even compared with gold
or silver. Yet even the little money which they wanted was not
always forthcoming, and when the collectors of the trivial sum
demanded from the very poorest for the service of the Temple, came
to Peter, for the didrachma which was alone required, neither he nor
his Master had the sum at hand." The Son of Man had no earthly
possession besides the clothes He wore.
3. And it was, as we have seen, a life of toil — • of toil from boy
hood upwards, in the shop of the carpenter, to aid in maintaining
Himself and His family by honest and noble labor ; of toil afterwards
to save the world. We have seen that " He went about doing good,"
and that this, which is the epitome of His public life, constitutes also
its sublimest originality. The insight which we have gained already,
and shall gain still further, into the manner in which His days -were
spent, shows us how overwhelming an amount of ever-active benevo
lence was crowded into the brief compass of the hours of light. At
any moment He was at the service of any call, whether it came from
an inquirer who longed to be taught, or from a sufferer who had faith
to be healed. Teaching, preaching, travelling, doing works of mercy,
bearing patiently with the fretful impatience of the stiff necked and
the ignorant, enduring without a murmur the incessant and selfish
pressure of the multitude — work like this so absorbed His time and
1 yXaoddoxopov (John xii. 6), properly a little box in which flute-players
kept the tongues or reeds of their flutes, iv go oi avXrjrai ditsriBsdav rdi
yXGorriSai m (Hesych.). Perhaps, as Mr. Monro suggests to me, a box may
have been so called from the resemblance in shape to a reed mouthpiece, of which
the essential ppint is an elastic valve which will open inwards. It seems unlikely
that yXGodddxo/uoi should have the same meaning as yXaoGdoxo/XEiov. In the
LXX. (2 Chron. xxiv. 8) it is used for the corban-box ; and by Aquila (Exod.
xxxvii. 1) for the Ark.
2 Matt. xvii. 24—27.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 249
energy that we are told, more than once, that so many were coming
and going as to leave no leisure even to eat. For Himself He seemed
to claim no rest except the quiet hours of night and silence, when He
retired so often to pray to His Heavenly Father, amid the mountain
solitudes which He loved so well.
4. And it was a life of health. Among its many sorrows and
trials, sickness alone was absent. We hear of His healing multitudes
of the sick — we never hear that He was sick Himself. It is true
that " the golden Passional of the Book of Isaiah " says of Him :
" Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows ; yet we
did esteem Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He
was wounded for our transgressions ; He was bruised for our iniqui
ties ; the chastisement of ,our peace was upon Him, and with His
stripes we are healed ; " but the best explanation of, that passage has
been already supplied from St. Matthew, that He suffered with those
whom He saw suffer.1 He was touched with a feeling of our infir
mities ; His divine sympathy made those sufferings His own. Cer
tain it is that the story of His life and death show exceptional powers
of physical endurance. No one who was not endowed with perfect
health could have stood out against the incessant and wearing demands
of such daily life as the Gospels describe. Above all, He seems to
have possessed that blessing of ready sleep which is the best natural
antidote to fatigue, and the best influence to calm the overwearied
mind, and " knit up the ravelled sleeve of care." Even on the wave-
lashed deck of the little fishing-boat as it was tossed on the stormy
sea, He could sleep, with no better bed or pillow than the hard
leather-covered "boss that served as the steerman's cushion." And
often in those nights spent under the starry sky, in the wilderness,
and on the mountain-top, He can have had no softer resting-place
than the grassy turf, no other covering than the tallith, or perhaps
some striped abba, such as often forms the sole bed of the Arab at
the present day. And we shall see in the last sad scene how the
same strength of constitution and endurance, even after all that He
had undergone, enabled Him to hold out — after a sleepless night
and a most exhausting day — under fifteen hours of trial and torture
and the long-protracted agony of a bitter death.
5. And, once more, it must have been a life of sorrow ; for He is
rightly called the " Man of Sorrows." And yet we think that there is
' Matt. viii. 17.
' As usual, we owe this graphic touch, so evidently derived from an eye-witness,
to the narrative of St. Mij.rk (iv. 38).
32

250 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
a possibility of error here. The terms " sorrow " and " joy " are
very relative, and we may be sure that if there was crushing sorrow
— the sorrow of sympathy with those who suffered,1 the sorrow of
rejection by those whom He loved, the sorrow of being hated by
those whom He came to save, the sorrows of One on whom were
laid the iniquities of the world, the sorrows of the last long
agony upon the cross, when it seemed as if even His Father
had forsaken Him — yet assuredly also there was an abound
ing joy. For the worst of all sorrows, the most maddening of
all miseries — which is the consciousness of alienation from God, the
sense of shame and guilt and inward degradation, the frenzy of self-
loathing by which, as by a scourge of fire, the abandoned soul is
driven to an incurable despair — that was absent, not only in its
extreme forms, but even in the faintest of its most transient assoil-
ments ; and, on the other hand, the joy of an unsullied conscience,
the joy of a stainless life, the joy of a soul absolutely and infinitely
removed from every shadow of baseness, and every fleck of guilt, the
joy of an existence wholly devoted to the service of God and the love
of man — this was ever present to Him in its fullest influences. It
is hardly what the world calls joy ; it was not the merriment of the
frivolous, like the transient flickering of April sunshine upon the shal
low stream ; it was not the laughter of fools, which is as the crackling
of thorns under a pot — of this kind of joy, life has but fittle for a
man who feels all that life truly means. But, as is said by the great
Latin Father, " Crede mihi res severa est verum gaudium," "8 and
of that deep well-spring of life which lies in the heart of things noble,
and pure, and permanent, and true, even the Man of Sorrows could
drink large draughts. And though we are never told that He laughed,
while we are told that once He wept, and that once He sighed, and
that more than once He was troubled ; yet He who threw no shadow
of discountenance on social meetings and innocent festivity, could not
have been without that inward happiness which sometimes shone
even upon His countenance, and which we often trace in the tender
and almost playful irony of His words." " In that horn'," we are told

1 ditXayxyi&opai (Matt. ix. 36 ; xiv. 14 ; xv. 32 ; xx. 34 ; Mark i. 41 ; Luke vii.
13), dvXXvitovpsvoi (Mark iii. 5), idrsva^sv (vii. 34), ivEfipipijdaro rap
itvevuari (John xi. 33), iSdxpvdsv (ver. 35), sxXavdsv (Luke xix. 41).
2 If we could attach any importance to the strange story quoted by Irenaeus
(Adv. Haer. v. 33, 3) as having been derived by Papias from hearers of St. John,
we should only see in it a marked instance of this playful and imaginative man
ner in speaking at unconstrained moments to the simplest and truest-hearted of
His followers. The words, which have evidently been reflected and refracted by

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 251
of one occasion in His life, " Jesus rejoiced " — or, as it should rather
be, exulted — " in spirit." ' Can we believe that this rejoicing took
place once alone ?
— «, — 
the various media through which they have reached us, may have been uttered
in a sort of divine irony, as though they were a playful description of Messianic
blessings to be fulfilled, not in the hard Judaic sense, but in a truer and more
spiritual sense. " The Lord taught, ' The days will come in which vines shall
spring up, each having ten thousand stems, and on each stem ten thousand
branches, and on each branch ten thousand shoots, and on each shoot ten thou
sand clusters, and on each cluster ten thousand grapes, and each grape, when
pressed, shall give twenty-five measures of wine. And when any saint shall have
seized one cluster, another shall cry, " I am a better cluster ; take me, through
me bless the Lord'" (Westcott, Introd., p. 433). Eusebius (H. E. iii. 39) speaks
of Papias as a weak-minded man ; and this passage is more like a Talmudic or
Mohammedan legend than a genuine reminiscence (see Hofmann, Leben Jesu, p.
324) ; yet it perhaps admits of the explanation I have given. The book of Papias
was called Xoyoov xvpiaxmv i£7?yijd£ii,m and another fragment of it on Judas
Iscariot shows his credulity. (Neander, Ch. Hist., E. Tr., ii. 430.)
1 Luke x. 21, riy aXXiddar o.

252 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXIII.
A GREAT DAT IN THE LIFE OF JESUS.
" My mystery is for me, and for the sons of my house." — Saying attributed to
Jesus in Clem. Alex. Strom, v. 10, 64.
The sequence of events in the narrative on which we are now
about to enter is nearly the same in the first three Gospels. With
out neglecting any clear indications given by the other Evangelists,
we shall, in this part of the life of Jesus, mainly follow the chrono
logical guidance of St. Luke. The order of St. Matthew and St.
Mark appears to be much guided by subjective considerations.1
Events in their Gospels are sometimes grouped together by their
moral or religious bearings. St. Luke, as is evident, pays more
attention to the natural sequence, although he also occasionally allows
a unity of subject to supersede in his arrangement the order of time.'
Immediately after the missionary journey which we have described,
St. Luke adds that when Jesus saw Himself surrounded by a great
multitude out of every city, He spake by a parable.3 We learn from
the two other Evangelists the interesting circumstance that this was
the first occasion on which He taught in parables, and that they were
spoken to the multitude who fined the shore while our Lord sat in
His favorite pulpit, the boat which was kept for Him on the Lake.4
We might infer from St. Mark that this teaching was delivered on
the afternoon of the day on which He healed the paralytic, but the
inference is too precarious to be relied on.6 All that we can see is
that this new form of teaching was felt to be necessary in consequence
' Papias, on the authority of John the Elder, distinctly says that St. Mark did
not write chronologically (ov pivroi ra'f ez) the deeds and words of Christ (ap.
Euseb. H. E. iii. 39).
2 To make the xaBs^iji of Luke i. 3 mean " in strictly accurate sequence," is to
press it overduly. The word, which is peculiar to St. Luke, is used quite vaguely
in chap. viii. 1 ; Acts iii. 24 ; xi. 4.
3 Luke viii. 4. The expression of St. Matthew (xiii. 1;, " the same day," or as
it should be rather, " on that day," looks more definite ; but the events that follow
could not have taken place on the same day as those narrated in his previous
chapter (much of which probably refers to a later period altogether), and the
same phrase is used quite indefinitely in Acts viii. 1.
J Matt. xiii. 2, Hi to itXolov ipfiavra.
i Compare Mark ii. 13; iv. 1.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. ¦ 253
of the state of mind which had been produced in some, at, least, of
the hearers among the multitude. The one emphatic word " hearken ! "
with which He prefaced his address, prepared them for something
unusual and memorable in what He was going to say.1
The great mass of hearers must now have been aware of the gen
eral features in the new Gospel which Jesus preached. Some self-
examination, some earnest careful thought of their own was now
requisite, if they were indeed sincere in their desire to profit by His
words. " Take heed how ye hear " was the great lesson which He
would now impress. He would warn them against the otiose atten
tion of curiosity or mere intellectual interest, and would fix upon
their minds a sense of their moral responsibility for the effects pro
duced by what they heard. He wou'ld teach them in such a way
that the extent of each hearer's profit should depend largely upon
his own faithfulness.
And, therefore, to show them that the only true fruit of good
teaching is holiness of life, and that there were many dangers which
might prevent its growth, He told them His first parable, the Parable
of the Sower. The imagery of it was derived, as usual, from the
objects immediately before bis eyes — the sown fields of Gennesareth ;
the springing corn in them ; the hard-trodden paths which ran through
them, on which no corn could grow ; the innumerable birds which
fluttered over them ready to feed upon the grain; the weak and
withering struggle for life on the stony places ; the tangling growth
of luxuriant thistles in neglected corners ; the deep loam of the gen
eral soil, on which already the golden ears stood thick and strong,
giving promise of a sixty and hundredfold return as they rippled
under the balmy wind." To us, who from infancy have read the
parable side by side with Christ's own interpretation of it, the mean
ing is singularly clear and plain, and we see in it the liveliest images
of the danger incurred by the cold and indifferent, by the impulsive
and shallow, by the worldly and ambitious, by the pre-occupied and
the luxurious, as they listen to the Word of God. But it was not so
easy to those who heard it.3 Even the disciples failed to catch its full
1 Mark iv. 3.
2 See Stanley, Sin. and Pal., p. 496.
3 It is a part of the divine boldness of Christ's teaching, and the manner in
which it transcends in its splendid paradox all ordinary modes of expression, that
in His explanation of the parable, the seed when once sown is identified with him
who receives it (Mark iv. 16; Matt. xiii. 20, 6 iiti itSTpood?? ditapEii, "lie that
was sown on stony places" [unfortunately rendered in our version, "he that
received 'the seed into," &c.]). See Lightfoot On Revision, p. 48.

254 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
significance, although they reserved their request for an explanation
till they and their Master should be alone. It is clear that parables
like this, so luminous to us, but so difficult to these simple listeners,
suggested thoughts which to them were wholly unfamiliar.1
It seems clear that our Lord did not on this occasion deliver all of
those seven parables — the parable of the tares of the field, of the
grain of mustard-seed, of the leaven, of the hid treasure, of the pearl,
and of the net — which, from a certain resemblance in their subjects
and consecutiveness in their teaching, are here grouped together by
St. Matthew." Seven parables3 delivered at once, and delivered
without interpretation, to a promiscuous multitude which He was for
the first time addressing in this form of teaching, would have only
tended to bewilder and to distract. Indeed, the expression of St.
Mark — " as they were able to hear it" 4 — seems distinctly to imply
a gradual and non-continuous course of teaching, which would have
lost its value if it had given to the listeners more than they were able
to remember and to understand. We may rather conclude, from a
comparison of St. Mark and St. Luke, that the teaching of this par
ticular afternoon contained no other parables, except perhaps the
simple and closely analogous ones of the grain of mustard-seed, and
of the blade, the ear, and the full corn in the ear, which might serve
to encourage into patience those who were expecting too rapid a rev
elation of the kingdom of God in their own lives and in the world ;
and perhaps, with these, the similitude of the candle to warn them
not to stifle the light they had received, but to remember that Great
Light which should one day reveal all things, and so to let their light
shine as to illuminate both their own paths in life, and to shed radi
ance on the souls of all around.
A method of instruction so rare, so stimulating, so full of interest —
a method which, in its unapproachable beauty and finish, stands
unrivalled in the annals of human speech — would doubtless tend to
increase beyond measure the crowds that thronged to listen. And
through the sultry afternoon He continued to teach them, barely suc-

1 Matt. xiii. 1—23 ; Mark iv. 1—25 ; Luke viii. 4—18.
2 For the scene of their delivery at least changes in Matt. xiii. 34 — 36.
3 Matt. xiii. 24—30; Mark iv. 26—34; Luke xiii. 18—21. Eight, if we add
Mark iv. 26 — 29. They illustrate the various reception (the Sower) ; the mingled
results (the tares and the net) ; the priceless value (the treasure and the pearl) ;
and the slow gradual extension (the mustard-seed, the leaven, the springing corn)
of the Gospel of the kingdom.
* Mark iv. 33.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 255
ceeding in dismissing them when the evening was come.1 A sense
of complete weariness and deep unspeakable longing for repose, and
solitude, and sleep, seems then to have come over our Lord's spirit.
Possibly the desire for rest and quiet may have been accelerated by
one more ill-judged endeavor of His mother and His brethren to
assert a claim upon His actions." They had not indeed been able
" to come at Him for the press," but their attempt to do so may have
been one more reason for a desire to get away, and be free for a time
from this incessant publicity, from these irreverent interferences. At
any rate, one little touch, preserved for us as usual by the graphic
pen of the Evangelist St. Mark, shows that there was a certain eager
ness and urgency in His departure, as though in His weariness, and
in that oppression of mind which results from the wearing contact
with numbers, He could not return to Capernaum, but suddenly
determined on a change of plan. After dismissing the crowd, the
disciples took Him, " as He was" 3 in the boat, no time being left,
in the urgency of His spirit, for preparation of any kind. He yearned
for the quiet and deserted loneliness of the eastern shore. The west
ern shore also is lonely now, and the traveller will meet no human
being there but a few careworn Fellahin, or a Jew from Tiberias, or
some Arab fishermen, or an armed and mounted Sheykh of some
tribe of Bedawin. But the eastern shore is loneliness itself ; not a
tree, not a village, not a human being, not a single habitation is vis
ible ; nothing but the low range of hills, scarred with rocky fissures,
and sweeping down to a narrow and ban-en strip which forms the
margin of the Lake. In our Lord's time the contrast of this thinly-
inhabited region with the busy and populous towns that lay close
together on the Plain of Gennesareth must have been very striking ;
and though the scattered population of Persea was partly Gentile, we
shall find Him not unfrequently seeking to recover the tone and calm
of His burdened soul by putting those six miles of water between
Himself and the crowds He taught.
1 Mark iv. 35. If our order of events be correct, these incidents took place in
the early part of March, at which time the weather in Palestine is often intensely
hot. I never suffered more from heat than on one April day on the shores of the
Sea of Galilee, when it was with difficulty that I could keep my seat on horseback.
2 Luke viii. 19 — 21. This cannot be the same incident as that narrated in Matt.
xii. 46 — 50; Mark iii. 31 — 35 (v. p. 223), as is shown by the context of those pass
ages. It is, however, exactly the kind of circumstance, calling forth the same
remark, which might naturally happen more than once ; and although a suppo
sition of perpetually recurring similarities is only the uncritical resource of
despairing harmonists, it may perhaps be admissible here.
3 Mark iv. 36.

256 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
But before the boat could be pushed off, another remarkable inter
ruption occurred. Three of His listeners in succession' — struck
perhaps by the depth and power of this His new method of teaching,
dazzled too by this zenith of His popularity — desired or fancied that
they desired to attach themselves to Him as permanent disciples.
The first was a Scribe, who, thinking no doubt that his official
rank would make him a most acceptable disciple, exclaimed with
confident asseveration, " Lord, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou
goest." But in spite of the man's high position, in spite of His.
glowing promises, He who cared less than nothing for lip-service,
and who preferred "the modesty of fearful duty" to the "rattling
tongue of audacious eloquence," coldly checked His would-be fol
lower. He who had called the hated publican gave no encourage
ment to the reputable Scribe. He did not reject the proffered ser
vice, but neither did He accept it. Perhaps "in the man's flaring
enthusiasm, he saw the smoke of egotistical self-deceit." He pointed
out that His service was not one of wealth, or honor, or delight ; not
one in which any could hope for earthly gain. " The foxes," He
said, " have holes, and the birds of the air have resting-places," but
the Son of Man 3 hath not where to lay His head."
The second was already a partial disciple,* but wished to become
an entire follower, with the reservation that he might first be permit
ted to bury his father. " Follow me ! " was the thrilling answer,
" and let the dead bury their dead ; " that is, leave the world and the
things of the world to mind themselves. He who would follow
Christ must in comparison hate even father and mother. He must
leave the spiritually dead to attend to their physically dead."
> Matt. viii. 19 — 22 ; Luke ix. 57 — 62. The position of the incident in the nar
rative of St. Matthew seems to show that it has been narrated out of its order,
and more generally (itopEvopsvoov avraov iv rijj 68aom), by St. Luke.
* xaradxi/VGodsii, rather " shelters " than "nests;" for birds do not live in
nests. 3 This was a title which would kindle no violent antipathy, and yet was under
stood to be Messianic. Cf. Dan. vii. 13 ; John xii. 34. (See p. 140).
* An ancient but otherwise groundless tradition says that it was Philip (Clem.
Alex. Strom, iii. 4, § 25).
6 Some have seen a certain difficulty and harshness in this answer. Theophy-
lact and many others interpret it to mean that the disciple asked leave to live at
home till his father's death. Such an offer of personal attendance would seem to
be too vague to be of any value ; on the other hand, Sepp and others have argued
that had his father been really dead he would have been regarded as ceremonially
unclean, and could hardly have been present at all. In either case, however, the
general lesson is that drawn by St. Augustine : " Amandus est generator, sed
praepone.ndus est creator." 201 If it was a mere question of personal attendance

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 257
The answer to the third aspirant was not dissimilar. He too
pleaded for delay — wished not to join Christ immediately in His
voyage, but first of all to bid farewell to his friends at home. " No
man," was the reply — which has become proverbial for all time —
" No man having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is
fit ' for the kingdom of heaven." To use the fine image of St.
Augustine, "the East was calling him, he must turn his thoughts
from the fading West." It was in this spirit that the loving souls of
St. Thomas of Aquino, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Francis Xavier,
and so many more of the great saints in the Church's history consoled
and fortified themselves, when forced to resign every family affection,
and for Christ's sake to abandon every earthly tie.
So, then, at last these fresh delays were over, and the little vessel
could spread her sails for the voyage. Yet even now Jesus was, as
it were, pursued by followers, for, as St. Mark again tells us, " other
fittle ships were with him." But they, in all probability — since we
are not told of their reaching the other shore — were soon scattered
or frightened back by the signs of a gathering storm. At any rate,
hi His own boat, and among His own trusted disciples, Jesus could
rest undisturbed, and long before they were far from shore, had lain
His weary head on the leather cushion of the steersman, and was
sleeping the deep sleep of the worn and weary — the calm sleep of
those who are at peace with God.
Even that sleep, so sorely needed, was destined to speedy and vio
lent disturbance. One of the fierce storms peculiar to that deep
hollow in the earth's surface, swept down with sudden fury on the
little inland sea. With scarcely a moment's notice," the air was filled
with whirlwind and the sea buffeted into tempest. The danger was
extreme. The boat was again and again buried amid the foam of
on a funeral, that was of little importance compared' to the great work for which
he offered himself : if it was more than this, might not the indefinite delay breed
a subsequent remorse — possibly even a subsequent apostacy 1
1 EvBsroi (Luke ix. 62), literally, " well-adapted." Possibly both the aspirant
and our Lord referred mentally to the story of Elisha's call (1 Kings xix. 19, 20).
The parallel in Hesiod, Opp. ii. 60 — iBeir^v avXax iXavvoi Mr/xeri itanrai-
voov petf dfirfXixai203 — is extremely striking. Yet who would be so absurd as
to dream of plagiarism here 1
2 Travellers have often noticed, and been endangered by, these sudden storms.
All that I had an opportunity of observing was the almost instantaneous change
by which a smiling glassy surface was swept into a dark and threatening ripple .
The expressions used by the- Evangelists all imply the extreme fury of the hurri
cane (deidfidi ps'yai, Matt. viii. 24; xars'fi^ XaiXaip dvepov, Luke viii. 23).
The heated tropical air of the Gh6r, which is so low that the surface of the Sea
of Galilee lies 600 feet beneath the level of the Mediterranean, is suddenly filled
33

258 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the breakers which burst over it ; yet though they must have covered
Him with their dashing spray as He lay on the open deck at the stern,
He was calmly sleeping on1 — undisturbed, so deep was his fatigue, by
the tempestuous darkness — and as yet no one ventured to awake Him.
But now the billows were actually breaking into the boat itself, which
was beginning to be filled and to sink. Then, with sudden and vehe
ment cries of excitement and terror, the disciples woke Him. " Lord !
Master! Master! save! we perish!"" Such were the wild sounds
which, mingled .with the howling of the winds and the dash of the
mastering waves, broke confusedly upon His half-awakened ear. It
is such crises as these — crises of sudden unexpected terror, met with
out a moment of preparation, which test a man, what spirit he is of
— which show not only his nerve, but the grandeur and purity of his
whole nature. The hurricane which shook the tried courage and
baffled the utmost skill of the hardy fishermen, did not ruffle for one
instant the deep inward serenity of the Son of Man. Without one
sign of confusion, without one tremor of alarm, Jesus simply raised
Himself on His elbow from the dripping stern of the laboring and
half -sinking vessel, and, without further movement,3 stilled the tem
pest of their souls by the quiet words, " Why so cowardly, O ye of
little faith ? " And then rising up, standing in all the calm of a nat
ural majesty on the lofty stern, while the hurricane tossed, for a
moment only, His fluttering garments and streaming hair, He gazed
forth into the darkness, and His voice was heard amid the roarine of
the troubled elements, saying, " Peace ! be still ! " 4 And instantly
the wind dropped, and there was a great calm. And as they watched
the starlight reflected on the now unrippled water, not the disciples
by the cold and heavy winds sweeping down the snowy ranges of Lebanon and
Hermon, and rushing with unwonted fury through the ravines of the Peraean
hills, which converge to the head of the Lake, and act like gigantic funnels.
(Thomson, Land and Book, II. xxv.)
1 There is a touch of tragic surprise in the avroi Si ixdBsvSs of Matt. viii. 24.
The Evangelists evidently derive their narrative from eye-witnesses. St. Matthew
mentions the Godre to itXoiov xaXvitrsdBai vnd tgov xvparGOv™3 (viii. 24) ;
St. Mark, rd Si xvpara iftE'fiaXXev sii to itXoiov 204 (iv. 37), and the itpodxs-
cpdXaiov 205 (ver. 38). On this, see Smith, Voy. of St. Paul, p. 243.
2 KvpiE, daodov, ditoXXvusBa (Matt. viii. 25), om. r/pdi. 'Eitidrdra,
iitidrdra dicoXXvusBa (Luke viii. 24).
8 This seems to be clearly involved in the tote iyspBEii"01 of Matt. viii. 26 —
after He had spoken to those who awoke Him.
4 There is an almost untranslatable energy in the "Sidita, itEcpifiaodo of Mark
iv. 39, and the perfect imperative implies the command that the result should be
instantaneous (cpipooo — literally, "I muzzle," 1 Cor. ix. 9).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 259
only but even the sailors ' whispered to one another, " What manner
of man is this ? "
This is a stupendous miracle, one of those which test whether we
indeed believe in the credibility of the miraculous or not ; one of
those miracles of power which cannot, like many of the miracles of
healing, be explained away by existing laws. It is not my object in
this book to convince the unbeliever, or hold controversy with the
doubter. Something of what I had to say on this subject I have
done my little best to say elsewhere ; " and yet, perhaps, a few words
may here be pardoned. Some, and they neither irreverent nor un
faithful men, have asked whether the reality may not have been
somewhat different? whether we may not understand this narrative
in a sense like that in which we should understand it if we found it
in the reasonably-attested legend of some mediaeval saint — a St.
Nicholas or a St. Brandan ? whether we may not suppose that the
fact which underlies the narrative was in reality not a miraculous
exercise of power over those elements which are most beyond the
r reach of man, but that Christ's calm communicated itself by imme
diate and subtle influence to His terrified companions, and that the
hurricane, from natural causes, sank as rapidly as it had arisen ? I
reply, that if this were the only miracle in the life of Christ ; if the
Gospels were indeed the loose, exaggerated, inaccurate, credulous
narratives which such an interpretation would suppose ; if there were
something antecedently incredible in the supernatural ; if there were
in the spiritual world no transcendant facts which fie far beyond the
comprehension of those who would bid us see nothing in the universe
but the action of material laws ; if there were no providences of God
during these nineteen centuries to attest the work and the divinity
of Christ — then indeed there would be no difficulty in such an inter
pretation. But if we believe that God rules; if we believe that
Christ rose ; if we have reason to hold, among the deepest convic
tions of our being, the certainty that God has not delegated His
sovereignty or His providence to the final, unintelligent, pitiless,
inevitable working of material forces ; if we see on every page of the
' Matt. viii. 27, oi avBpGOitoi™
2 The Witness of History to Christ, Lect. I. I refer to these Hulsean Lectures
only to show that the mainly non-controversial character of the present work
arises neither from any doubt in my own mind, nor from any desire to shrink from
legitimate controversy. At the same time let me say distinctly that I dislike and
deprecate, as wrong and as needless, the violent language used by writers on both
sides of this great controversy. A man may disbelieve in miracles without being
either an atheist or a blasphemer ; a man may believe in them without being (as
is assumed so widely) either hypocritical or weak.

260 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
Evangelists the quiet simplicity of truthful and faithful witnesses ;
if we see in every year of succeeding history, and in every experience
of individual life, a confirmation of the testimony which they deliv
ered — then we shall neither clutch at rationalistic interpretations,
nor be much troubled if others adopt them. He who believes, he
who knows, the efficacy of prayer, in what other men may regard as
the inevitable certainties or blindly-directed accidents of life — he
who has felt how the voice of a Saviour, heard across the long gen
erations, can calm wilder storms than ever buffeted into fury the
bosom of the inland lake — he who sees in the person of his Redeemer
a fact more stupendous and more majestic than all those observed
sequences which men endow with an imaginary omnipotence^ and
worship under the name of Law — to him, at least, there will be
neither difficulty nor hesitation in supposing that Christ, on board
that half-wrecked fishing-boat, did utter His mandate, and that the
wind and the sea obeyed ; that His woed was indeed more potent
among the cosmic forces than miles of agitated water, or leagues of
rushing air.
Not even on the farther shore was Jesus to find peace or rest.1
On the contrary, no sooner had He reached that part of Perasa which
1 Matt. viii. 28—34 ; Mark v. 1—19 ; Luke viii. 26—39. The MSS. of all three
Evangelists vary between Gadara, Gerasa, and Gergesa. Tischendorf, mainly
relying on the Cod. Sinaiticus, reads repysdr/vaov in Luke viii. 26 ; TEpadt}VGov
in Mark v. 1 ; and TaSaprjVGov in Matt. viii. 28. After the researches of Dr.
Thomson (The Land and the Book, IL, ch. xxv.), there can be no doubt that Ger
gesa — though mentioned only by St. Luke — was the name of a little town nearly
opposite Capernaum, the ruined site of which is still called Kerza or Gersa by
the Bedawin. The existence of this little town was apparently known both to
Origen, who first introduced the reading, and to Eusebius and Jerome ; and in
their day a steep declivity near it, where the hills approach to within a little dis
tance from the Lake, was pointed out as the scene of the miracle. Gerasa is
much too far to the east, being almost in Arabia. Gadara — if that reading be
correct in Matt. viii. 28 (N, B) — can only be the name of the whole district,
derived from its capital. The authority of the reading is, however, weakened (1)
by the fact that it was only found in a few MSS. in Origen's time ; and (2) by the
probability of so well-known a place being inserted instead of the obscure little
Gergesa. The ruins of Gadara are still visible at Um Eeis, three hours to the
south of the extreme end of the Lake, and on the other side of the river Jarmuk,
or Hieromax the banks of which are as deep and precipitous as those of the Jor
dan. It is therefore far too remote to have any real connection with the scene of
the miracle ; and in point of fact repysdr/vaov must have been something more
than a conjecture of Origen's in this verse, for it is found in eight uncials, most
cursives, and (among others) in the Coptic and JSthiopic versions. It must there
fore be regarded as the probable reading, and St. Matthew, as one who had actually
lived on the shore of the Lake, was most likely to know its minute topography,
and so to have preserved the real name.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 261
is called by St. Matthew the " country of the Gergesenes," than He
was met by an exhibition of human fury, and madness, and degrada
tion, even more terrible and startling than the rage of the troubled
sea. Barely had He landed when, from among the rocky cavern-
tombs of the Wady Semakh, there burst into His presence a man
troubled with the most exaggerated form of that raging madness
which was universally attributed to demoniacal possession. Amid
all the boasted civilization of antiquity, there existed no hospitals, i
no penitentiaries, no asylums ; and unfortunates of this class, being
too dangerous and desperate for human intercourse, could only be
driven forth from among their fellow-men, and restrained from mis
chief by measures at once inadequate and cruel. Under such circum
stances they could, if irreclairnable, only take refuge in those holes
along the rocky hill-sides which abound in Palestine, and which were
used by the Jews as tombs. It is clear that the foul and polluted
nature of such dwelling-places, with all their associations of ghastli-
ness and terror, would tend to aggravate the nature of the malady ; l
and this man, who had long been afflicted, was beyond even the pos
sibility of control." Attempts had been made to bind him, but in
the paroxysms of his mania he had exerted that apparently super
natural strength which is often noticed in such forms of mental ex
citement, and had always succeeded in rending off his fetters, and
twisting away or shattering his chains ; " and now he had been aban
doned to the lonely hills and unclean solitudes which, night and day,
rang with his yells as he wandered among them, dangerous to him
self and to others, raving, and gashing himself with stones.
It was the frightful figure of this naked and homicidal maniac
that burst upon our Lord almost as soon as He had landed at early
dawn ; * and perhaps another demoniac, who was not a Gadarene,
1 Tombs were the express dwelling-place of demons in the Jewish belief (Nidda,
fol. 17 a ; Chagigah, fol. 3, 6). " When a man spends a night in a graveyard, an
evil spirit descends upon him " (Gfrorer, Jahrh. des Heils, i. 408). It must not be
forgotten that these Saipovia were expressly supposed to be spirits of the wicked
dead (itovr/paov idriv dvBpaoitGov itvEv/iara, 20S Jos. B. J. vii. 6, § 3).
2 Compare Sir W. Scott's powerful description of the effects produced on the
minds of the Covenanters by their cavern retirements.
3 Mark v. 4, . . . SisditddBai vit' avrov rdi dXvdsii xai rdi ite'Sai
dvvTETpicpBai?m St. Mark and St. Luke here give us the minute details, which
show the impression made on the actual witnesses. St. Matthew's narrative is
less circumstantial; it is probable that he was not with our Lord, and he may
have been preparing for that winding-up of his affairs which was finished at the
great feast prepared for Jesus apparently on the afternoon of this very day.
4 Mark v. 2, svBsooi ditTJvrrjdsv avra> ;210 Luke viii. 27, ifidriov ovx
ivESiSvdxeTo.'11 This does not necessarily mean that he was stark naked, for

262 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
and who was less grievously afflicted, may have hovered about at no
great distance,1 although, beyond this allusion to his presence, he
plays no part in the narrative. The presence, the look, the voice of
Christ, even before He addressed these sufferers, seems always to
have calmed and overawed them, and this demoniac of Gergesa was
no exception. Instead of falling upon the disciples, he ran to Jesus
from a distance, and fell down before Him in an attitude of worship.
Mingling his own perturbed individuality with that of the multitude
of unclean spirits which he believed to be in possession of his soul,
he entreated the Lord, in loud and terrified accents, not to torment
him before the time.
It is well known that to recall a maniac's attention to his name, to
awake his memory, to touch his sympathies by past association, often
produces a lucid interval, and perhaps this may have been the reason
why Jesus said to the man, "What is thy name?" But this ques
tion only receives the wild answer, " My name is Legion, for we are
many." The man had, as it were, lost his own name ; it was absorbed
in the hideous tyranny of that multitude of demons under whose
influence his own personality was destroyed." The presence of
Roman armies in Palestine had rendered him familiar with that title
of multitude, and as though six thousand evil spirits were in him he
answers by the Latin word which had now become so familiar to
every Jew.3 And still agitated by his own perturbed fancies, he
he may still have worn a xiroov ; but the tendency to strip themselves bare of
every rag of clothing is common among lunatics. It was, for instance, oue of the
tendencies of Christian VII. of Denmark. Furious maniacs — absolutely naked —
wander to this day in the mountains, and sleep in the caves of Palestine. (Thom
son, Land and Book, I., ch. xi.; Warburton, The Crescent and the Cross, ii. 352.)
1 As we may perhaps infer from Matt. viii. 28. There is a difference here, but
no fair critic dealing with any other narrative would dream of calling it an
irreconcilable discrepancy ; at any rate they would not consider that it in any way
impaired the credibility of the narrative. Probably, if we knew the actual cir
cumstances, we should see no shadow of difficulty in the fact that Matthew
mentions two, and the other Evangelists one. Similar minute differences occur
at every step in the perfectly honest evidence of men whom _no one, on that
account,, dreams of doubting, or of charging with untrustworthy observation.
"Erspov idn, says St. Chrysostom, Siacpopaoi eiitEiv xai paxopevovi EiitEiv.™
" Per hujusmodi Evangelistarum locutiones," says St. Augustine, " vaeias sed
non contrarias, discimus nihil in cuj usque verbis nos inspicere debere, nisi,
voluntatem, &c." 213 (Aug. De Cons. Evang. ii. 28.)
2 This duality and apparent interchange of consciousness were universal among
this afflicted class. See Clem. Alex. Strom, i. 21, § 143, who explains Plato's
notion of a language of the gods partly from the fact that demoniacs do not speak
their own voice and language, dXXd rr)v tgov vitsidiovrajv Saipovaov.11*
3 The ancient Megiddo bore at this time the name Legio, from the Roman com-
pany stationed there. It is still called Ledjun.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 263
entreats, as though the thousands of demons were speaking by his
mouth, that they might not be driven into the abyss, but be suffered
to take refuge in the swine.
The narrative which follows is to us difficult of comprehension, and
one which, however literally accepted, touches upon regions so wholly
mysterious and unknown that we have no clue to its real significance,
and can gain nothing by speculating upon it. The narrative in St.
Luke runs as follows : —
"And there was an herd of many swine ' feeding upon the moun
tain ; and they besought Him that He would suffer them to enter into
them. And He suffered them. Then went the devils out of the man,
and entered into the swine ; and the herd ran violently down a steep
place into the Lake, and were choked."
That the demoniac was healed — that in the terrible final paroxysm
which usually accompanied the deliverance from this strange and
awful malady, a herd of swine was in some way affected with such
wild terror as to rush headlong in large numbers over a steep hill
side into the waters of the Lake — and that, in the minds of all who
were present, including that of the sufferer himself, this precipitate
rushing of the swine was connected with the man's release from his
demoniac thraldom — thus much is clear.
And indeed, so far, there is no diffif ulty whatever. Any one who
believes in the Gospels, and believes that the Son of God did work
on earth deeds which far surpass mere human power, must believe
that among the most frequent of His cures were those of the distress
ing forms of mental and nervous malady which we ascribe to purely
natural causes, but which the ancient Jews, like all Orientals, attribute
to direct supernatural agency." And knowing to how singular an
extent the mental impressions of man affect by some unknown elec
tric influence the lower animals. — knowing, for instance, that man's
cowardice and exultation, and even his superstitious terrors, do com
municate themselves to the dog which accompanies him, or the horse
on which he rides — there can be little or no difficulty in understand-
1 St. Mark, specific as usual, says " about two thousand."
1 " All kinds of diseases which are called melancholy they call an evil spirit "
(Maimon. in Shabbath, ii. 5). Hence it is not surprising that mechanical exorcisms
were sometimes resorted to (Tob. viii. 2, 3 ; Jos. Antt. viii. 2,§ 5 ; Just. Mart. Dial
c. Tryph. 85, xpgouevoi i^opxiZovdi . . Bvpiduadi). In Jer. Terumoth, fol
40, 2 (ap. Otho, Lex. Rabb. s. v. " Daemones "), people afflicted with hypochondria,
melancholy, and brain-disease, are all treated as demoniacs, and Kardaicus is even
made a demon's name. St. Peter seems to class all the diseased whom Christ cured
as xaraSvvadrevouevovi vitorovSiafioXov (Acts x. 88). Forfull information
on the whole subject GfrBrer refers to Edzard, Avoda Zara, ii. 311 — 356.

264 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ing that the shrieks and gesticulations of a powerful lunatic might
strike uncontrollable terror into a herd of swine. We know further
that the spasm of deliverance was often attended with fearful convul
sions, sometimes perhaps with an effusion of blood ; ' and we know
that the sight and smell of human blood produces strange effects in
-many animals. May there not have been something of this kind at
work in this singular event?
It is true that the Evangelists (as their language clearly shows)
held, in all its simplicity, the belief that actual devils passed in multi
tudes out of the man and into the swine. But is it not allowable
here to make a distinction between actual facts and that which was
the mere conjecture and inference of the spectators from whom the
three Evangelists heard the tale ? If we are not bound to believe the
man's hallucination that six thousand devils were in possession of his
soul, are we bound to believe the possibility, suggested by his per
turbed intellect, that the unclean spirits should pass from him into
the swine ? " If indeed we could be sure that Jesus directly encour
aged or sanctioned in the man's mind the belief that the swine were
indeed driven wild by the unclean spirits which passed objectively
from the body of the Gergesene into the bodies of these dumb beasts,
then we could, without hesitation, believe as a literal truth, however
incomprehensible, that so it was. But this by no means follows
indisputably from what we know of the method of the Evangelists.
Let all who will, hold fast to the conviction that men and beasts may
be quite literally possessed of devils ; only let them beware of con
fusing their own convictions, which are binding on themselves alone,
with those absolute and eternal certainties which cannot be rejected
without moral blindness by others. Let them remember that a hard
and denunciative dogmatism approaches more nearly than anything
else to that Pharisaic want of charity which the Lord whom they
love and worship visited with His most scathing anger and rebuke.
The literal reality of demoniac possession is a belief for which more
may perhaps be said than is admitted by the purely physical science
of the present day,3 but it is not a necessary article of the Christian
1 Some years ago, the dead body of a murdered lady was discovered in a lonely
field solely by the strange movements of the animals which were half-maddened
by the sight of the blood-stained corpse. The fact was undisputed : " the cows,"
as one of the witnesses described it, " went blaring about the field."
2 This was a thoroughly Jewish belief. In Bab. Joma, 83 6, R. Samuel attrib
utes the hydrophobia of dogs to demoniac possession (GfrOrer. Jahrh. d. Heils,
i. 412). 3 See this beautifully and moderately stated by Professor Westcott (Gharact.
of the Gosp. Miracles, pp. 72 — 83). He contrasts the superstitious materialism of

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 265
creed ; and if any reader imagines that in this brief narrative, to a
greater extent than in any other, there are certain nuances of expres
sion in which subjective inferences are confused with exact realities,
he is holding a view which has the sanction of many wise and
thoughtful Churchmen, and has a right to do so without the slightest
imputation on the orthodoxy of his belief.1
That the whole scene was violent and startling appears in the fact
that the keepers of the swine " fled and told it in the city and in the
country." The people of Gergesa, and the Gadarenes and Gerasenes
of all the neighboring district, flocked out to see the Mighty Stranger
who had thus visited their coasts. What livelier or more decisive
proof of His power and His beneficence could they have had than
the sight which met their eyes ? The filthy and frantic demoniac
who had been the terror of the country, so that none could pass that
way — the wild-eyed dweller in the tombs who had been accustomed
to gash himself with cries of rage, and whose untamed fierceness broke
away all fetters — was now calm as a child. Some charitable hand
Josephus (Antt. viii. 2, § 5 ; B. J. vii. 6, § 3) with the simplicity of the Gospel
narratives. A powerful series of arguments for the tenability of the view which
denies actual demoniac possession may be found in Jahn, Archaeologia Biblica (to
which I have already referred), and are maintained by the late Rev. J. F. Denham
in Kitto's Bibl. Cyclop. , s. v. " Demons."
1 So many good, able, and perfectly orthodox writers have, with the same data
before them, arrived at differing conclusions on this q uestion, that any certainty
respecting it appears to be impossible. My own view under these circumstances
is of no particular importance, but it is this : I have shown that the Jews, like all
unscientific nations in all ages, attributed many nervous disorders and physical
obstructions to demoniacpossession which we should attribute to natural causes ;
but I am not prepared to deny that in the dark and desperate age which saw the
Redeemer's advent there may have been forms of madness- which owed their
more immediate manifestation to evil powers. I should not personally find much
hardship or difficulty in accepting such a belief, and have only been arguing
against the uncharitable and pernicious attempt to treat it as a necessary article
of faith for all. The subject is too obscure (even to science) to admit of dogma
tism on either side. Since writing the above paragraphs, I find that (to say
nothing of Dr. Lardner) two writers so entirely above suspicion as Neander and
De Pressense' substantially hold the same view. " There is a, gap here," says
Neander, "in our connection of the facts. Did Christ really participate in the
opinions of the demoniac, or was it only subsequently inferred from the fact that
the swine rushed down, that Christ had allowed the evil spirits to take possession
of them 1 " (Life of Christ, p. 207, E. Tr.) " That these devils," says Pressense,
" literally entered into the body of the swine is an inadmissible supposition "
(Jesus Christ, p. 339, E. Tr.). The modern Jews, like their ancestors, attribute a
vast number of interferences to the schedim, or evil spirits. See, on the whole
subject, Excursus VII., " Jewish Angelology and Demonology."
34

266 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
had flung an outer robe over his naked figure, and he was sitting at
the feet of Jesus, clothed, and in his right mind.
"And they were afraid" — more afraid of that Holy Presence
than of the previous furies of the possessed. The man indeed was
saved ; but what of that, considering that some of their two thousand
unclean beasts had perished ! Their precious swine were evidently
in danger ; the greed and gluttony of every apostate Jew and low
bred Gentile in the place were clearly imperilled by receiving such a
one as they saw that Jesus was. With disgraceful and urgent una
nimity they entreated and implored Him to leave their coasts.1 Both
heathens and Jews had recognized already the great truth that God
sometimes answers bad prayers in His deepest anger." Jesus Himself
had taught His disciples not to give that which was holy to the dogs,
neither to cast their pearls before swine, " lest they trample them
under their feet, and turn again and rend you." He had gone across
the Lake for quiet and rest, desiring, though among lesser multitudes,
to extend to these semi-heathens also the blessings of the kingdom of
God. But they loved their sins and their swine, and with a per
fect energy of deliberate preference for all that was base and mean,
rejected such blessings, and entreated Him to go away. Sadly, but
at once, He turned and left them. Gergesa was no place for Him ;
better the lonely hill-tops to the north of it ; better the crowded strand
on the other side.
And yet He did not leave them in anger. One deed of mercy had
been done there; one sinner had been saved; from one soul the
unclean spirits had been cast out. And just as the united multitude
of the Gadarenes had entreated for His absence, so the poor saved
demoniac entreated henceforth to be with Him. But Jesus would
1 Matt. viii. 34, itapsxdXsdav ; Mark v. 17, rjp^avro itapaxaXsiv ; Luke
viii. 37, T/pGoTtydav. The heathen character of the district comes more fully
home to us when we remember that Meleager and Philodemus, two of the least
pure poets of the Greek anthology, were natives of this very Gadara about
B. C. 50.
2 See Exod. x. 28, 29 ; Numb. xxii. 20 ; Ps. lxxviii. 29—31.
" We, ignorant of ourselves.
Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good." — Shaksp. Ant. & Oleop. 1
"G-od answers sharp and' sudden on some prayers,
And flings the thing we have asked for in our face ;
A gauntlet with a gift in 't." — Aurora Leigh.
The truth was also thoroughly recognized in Pagan literature, as in Plato, Alcib.
ii. 138, B ; Juv. Sat. x. 7, " Evertere domos totas optantibus ipsis Di faciles ; ' 216
and x. Ill, "Magnaque numinibus vota exaudita malignis." 216 This is in fact
the moral of the legend of Tithonus.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 267
fain leave one more, one last opportunity for those who had rejected
Him. On others for whose sake miracles had been performed He
had enjoined silence ; on this man — since He was now leaving the
place — He enjoined publicity. " Go home," He said, " to thy friends,
and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and
hath had compassion on thee." And so the demoniac of Gergesa
became the first great missionary to the region of Decapolis, bearing
in his own person the confirmation of his words ; and Jesus, as His
little vessel left the inhospitable shore, might still hope that the day
might not be far distant — might come, at any rate, before over
that •ill-fated district burst the storm of sword and fire ' — when
" E'en the witless Gadarene,
Preferring Christ to swine, would feel
That life is sweetest when 'tis clean." 2
1 For the fearful massacre and conflagration of Gadara, the capital of this dis
trict, see Jos. B. J. iii. 7, § 1.
1 Coventry Patmore.

268 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXIV.

" Nunquam laeti sitis, nisi quum fratrem vestrum videritis in caritate." 217 —
Jerome in Eph. v. 3 (quoted as a saying of Christ from the Hebrew Gospel).
The events just described had happened apparently in the early
morning, and it might perhaps be noon when Jesus reached once
more the Plain of Gennesareth. People had recognized the sail of
His returning vessel, and long before He reached land ' the multitudes
had lined the shore, and were waiting for Him, and received Him
gladly. If we may here accept as chronological the order of St. Matthew "
— to whom, as we shall see hereafter, this must have been a very
memorable day — Jesus went first into the town of Capernaum,
which was now regarded as " His own city." He went at once to
the house — probably the house of St. Peter — which He ordinarily
used when staying at Capernaum. There the crowd gathered in
ever denser numbers, filling the house, and even the court-yard which
surrounded it, so that there was no access even to the door." But
there was one poor sufferer — a man bedridden from a stroke of
paralysis — who, with his friends, had absolutely determined that
access should be made for him ; he would be one of those violent
men who would take the kingdom of heaven by force. And the
four who were carrying him, finding that they could not reach Jesus
through the crowd, made their way to the roof, perhaps by the usual
' Luke viii. 40.
2 Matt. ix. 1. Some may see an objection to this arrangement in the fact that
St. Luke (v. 17) mentions Pharisees not only from Galilee, but even from Judsea
and Jerusalem as being present at the scene. It is, however, perfectly clear that
the Pharisees are not the spies from Jerusalem subsequently sent to dog His
steps (Mark iii. 2 ; vii. 1 ; Matt. xv. 1) ; for, on the contrary, St. Luke distinctly
says " that the power of the Lord was present to heal them." We surmise, there
fore, that they must have come from motives which were at least harmless. If,
indeed, with K, B, L, we read avrov for avrovi, this argument falls to the
ground ; but my belief in the sequence is not changed.
3 Matt. ix. 2—8 ; Mark ii. 1—12 ; Luke v. 17—26.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 269
outer staircase,1 and making an aperture in the roof by the removal
of a few tiles," let down the paralytic, on his humble couch,3 exactly
in front of the place where Christ was sitting. The man was silent,
perhaps awestruck at his manner of intrusion into the Lord's presence ;
but Jesus was pleased at the strength and unhesitating boldness of
faith which the act displayed, and bestowing first upon the man a
richer blessing than that which he primarily sought, He gently said
to him, as He had said to the woman who was a sinner, " Be of good
courage, son ; * thy sins are forgiven thee." Our Lord had before
observed the unfavorable impression produced on the bystanders by
those startling words. He again observed it now in the interchanged
glances of the Scribes who were present, and the look of angry dis
approval on their countenances.1' But on this occasion He did not,
as before, silently substitute another phrase. On the contrary, he
distinctly challenged attention to His words, and miraculously justi
fied them. Reading their thoughts, He reproved them for the fierce
unuttered calumnies of which their hearts were full, and put to them
a direct question. " Which," He asked, " is easier ? to say to the
paralytic, 'Thy sins are forgiven thee;' or to say, 'Arise and
walk ? "" May not anybody say the former without its being pos
sible to tell whether the sins, are forgiven or not ? but who can say
the latter, and give effect to his own words, without a power from
above ? HI can by a word heal this paralytic, is it not clear that I
must be One who has also power on earth to forgive sins ? The un
answerable question was received with the silence of an invincible
obstinacy ; but turning once more to the paralytic, Jesus said to him,
1 Eastern houses are low, and nothing is easier than to get to their roofs, espec-,
ially when they are built on rising ground. For the outer staircase, see Matt.
xxiv. 17.
2 Luke v. 19, Sid tgov xspapoov. Otherwise the it-opv^avrsi of St. Mark
might lead us to imagine- that they cut through some mud partition. Possibly
they enlarged an aperture in the roof. The details are not sufficiently minute
to make us understand exactly what was done, and the variations of reading show
that some difficulty was felt by later readers ; but the mere fact of opening the
roof is quite an every-day matter in the East (see Thomson, The Land and the
Book, p. 358). The objection that the lives or safety of those sitting below would
be endangered (!) is one of the ignorant childishnesses of merely captious
criticism. 8 xXiviSiov (Luke v. 19), xpafifiarov (Mark ii. 4). Probably little more than
a mere mat.
4 Luke v. 20, dvBpwitE ; Mark ii. 5, rixvov. The Bdpdei, texvov of Matt.
ix. 2, being the tenderest, is the phrase most likely to have been used by Christ.
6 " Why does this man speak thus ? He blasphemes." — Such is probably the
true reading (K, B, D, L, &c.) of Mark ii. 7.
, 6 This seems to me the most forcible punctuation in Mark. ii. 9.

270 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
" Arise, take up thy bed, and walk." At once power was restored
to the palsied limbs, peace to the stricken soul. The man was healed.
He rose, lifted the light couch on which he had been lying, and,
while now the crowd opened a passage for him, he went to his house
glorifying God ; and the multitude, when they broke up to disperse,
kept exchanging one with another exclamations of astonishment not
unmixed with fear, " We saw strange things to-day ! " " We never
saw anything like this before ! "
From the house — perhaps to allow of more listeners hearing His
words — Jesus seems to have adjourned to his favorite shore ; ' and
thence, after a brief interval of teaching, He repaired to the house of
Matthew, in which the publican, who was now an Apostle, had made
a great feast of farewell to all his friends." As he had been a publi
can himself, it was natural that many of these also would be " pub
licans and sinners " — the outcasts of society, objects at once of hatred
and contempt. Yet Jesus and His disciples, with no touch of scorn
or exclusiveness, sat down witfi them at the feast ; " for there were
many, and they were His followers." A charity so liberal caused
deep dissatisfaction, on two grounds, to two powerful bodies — the
Pharisees and the disciples of John. To the former, mainly because
this contact with men of careless and evil lives violated all the tradi
tions of their haughty scrupulosity ; to the latter, because this ready
acceptance of invitations to scenes of feasting seemed to discounte
nance the necessity for their half-Essenian asceticism. The com
plaints could hardly have been made at the time, for unless any
Pharisees or disciples of John merely looked in from curiosity during
the progress of the meal, their own presence there would have involved
"them in the very blame which they were casting on their Lord. But
Jesus probably heard of their murmurs before the feast was over.
There was something characteristic in the way in which the criticism
1 Mark ii. 13.
8 Matt. ix. 11 ; Mark ii. 15 ; Luke v. 29, Soxrf H.EydXr;.ni This shows that
Matthew had.made large earthly sacrifices to follow Christ. It seems quite clear
that the only reason why the Synoptists relate the call of Matthew in this place
instead of earlier, is to connect his call with this feast. But on the other hand a
great farewell feast could hardly have been given on the very day of the call,
and other circumstances, arising especially from the fact that the Twelve were
chosen before the Sermon on the Mount, and that the call of Matthew from the
toll-booth must have preceded his selection as an Apostle, lead us to the convic
tion that the feast was given afterwards ; and, indeed, Archbishop Newcome, in
his Harmony of the Gospels, p. 259, says " that Levi's call and feast were separated
in the most ancient Harmonies from Tatian, in A. D. 170, to Gerson, A. D.
1400 " (see Andrews, Life of our Lord, p. 211) ; and he might have added, down
to many modern commentators.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 271
was made. The Pharisees, still a little dubious as to Christ's real
character and mission, evidently overawed by His greatness, and not
yet having ventured upon any open rupture with Him, only vented
their ill-humor on the disciples, asking them " why their master ate
with publicans and sinners?" The simple-minded Apostles were
perhaps unable to explain ; but Jesus at once faced the opposition,
and told these murmuring respectabilities that He came not to the
self-righteous, but to the conscious sinners. He came "hot to the
folded flock, but to the straying sheep. To preach the gospel to
the poor, to extend mercy to the lost, was the very object for which
he tabernacled among men. It was His will not to thrust His grace
on those who from the very first wilfully steeled their hearts against
it, but gently to extend it to those who needed, and felt their need of
it. His teaching was to be " as the small rain upon the tender herb,
and as the showers upon the grass." And then, referring them to
one of those palmary passages of the Old Testament (Hos. vi. 6) '
which even in those days had summed up the very essence of all that
was pleasing to God in love and mercy, He borrowed the phrase of
their own Rabbis, and bade them — these teachers of the people, who
claimed to know so much — to " go and learn " " what that meaneth,
" I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." Perhaps it had never before
occurred to their astonished minds, overlaid as they were by a crust
of mere Levitism and tradition, that the love which thinks it no con
descension to mingle with sinners in the effort to win their souls, is
more pleasing to God than thousands of rams and tens of thousands
of rivers of oil.
The answer to the somewhat querulous question asked Him by
John's disciples was less severe in tone.3 No doubt he pitied that
natural dejection of mind which arose from the position of the great
teacher, to whom alone they had as yet learned to look, and who now
lay in the dreary misery of a Machaerus dungeon. He might have
answered that fasting was at the best a work of supererogation —
1 The quotation is from the Hebrew. The LXX. has jj for xai ov. Comp.
Matt. xii. 7 ; 1 Said. xv. 22 ; Deut. x. 12 ; Prov. xxi. 3 ; Eccles. xii. 13 ; Hosea vi.
6 ; Micah vi. 8,; passages amply sufficient to have shown the Jews, had they
really searched the Scriptures, the hollowness and falsity of the whole Pharisaic
system. ' Matt. ix. 13, 1D71 KS. On the interesting question of the language ordinarily
used by our Lord, see Chap. VII., p-. 93.
3 Matt. ix. 14—17 ; Mark ii. 18—22 ; Luke v. 33—39. Apparently the Pharisees,
eager to seize any and every opportunity to oppose Him, and glad of a combina
tion so powerful and so unwonted as that which enabled them to unite with John's
disciples, joined in this question also (Mark ii. 19).

272 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
useful, indeed, and obligatory, if any man felt that thereby he was
assisted in the mortification of anything which was evil in his nature
— but worse than useless if it merely administered to his spiritual
pride, and led him to despise others. He might have pointed out to
them that although they had instituted a fast twice in the week,1 this
was but a traditional institution, so little sanctioned by the Mosaic
law, than in it but one single day of fasting was appointed for the
entire year." He might, too, have added that the reason why fast
ing had not been made a universal duty is probably that spirit of
mercy which recognized how differently it worked upon different
temperaments, fortifying some against the attacks of temptation, but
only hindering others in the accomplishment of duty. Or again, He
might have referred them to those passages in their own Prophets,
which pointed out that, in the sight of God, the true fasting is not
mere abstinence from food while all the time the man is " smiting
with the fist of wickedness ; " but rather to love mercy, and to do
justice, and to let the oppressed go free.3 But instead of all these
lessons, which, in their present state, might only have exasperated
their prejudices, He answers them only by a gentle argumentum ad
hominem. Referring to the fine image in which their own beloved
and revered teacher had spoken of Him as the bridegroom, He con
tented Himself with asking them, " Can ye make the children of the
bridechamber fast,4 while the bridegroom is with them ? " and then,
looking calmly down at the deep abyss which yawned before Him,
He uttered a saying which — although at that time none probably
1 On Thursday, because on that day Moses was believed to have re-ascended
Mount Sinai; on Monday, because on that day he returned. Cf. Luke xviii. 12 ;
Babha Kama, f . 82 a.
2 The Day of Atonement (Lev. xvi. 29 ; Numb. xxix. 7). It appears that in the
period of the exile four annual fasts (in the fourth, fifth, seventh, and tenth months)
had sprung up, but they certainly receive no special sanction from the Prophets
(Zech. viii. 19 ; v.ii. 1 — 12). In the oldest and genuine part of the Megillah Taan-
ith, which emanated from the schools of Hillel and Shammai, there is merely a
list of days on which fasting and mourning are forbidden. It will be found with
a translation in Derenbourg, Hist. Palestine, pp. 439 — 446. See too Lightfoot,
Hor. Hebr. in Matt. ix. 14.
3 See the many noble and splendid utterances of the Prophets to this effect
(Micah vi. 6—8 ; Hosea vi. 6 ; xii. 6 ; Amos v. 21—24 ; Isa. i. 10—20).
4 John iii. 29. The use of the word tievBeiv, "mourn," instead of vrjdrEVEiv,
" fast," in Matt. ix. 15, gives still greater point to the question. Fasting was a
sign of sorrow, but the kingdom of God was a kingdom of gladness, and the bridal
to which their own Master had compared its proclamation was a time of joy. The
disciples are the paranymphs, the children of the bridechamber, the beni hahach-
unnah, a thoroughly Hebrew metaphor for the nearest friends of the wedded
pair.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 273
understood it — was perhaps the very earliest public intimation that
He gave of the violent end which awaited Him — " But the days
will come when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them,1 and
then shall they fast in those days." Further He told them, in words
of yet deeper significance, though expressed, as so often, in the home
liest metaphors, that His religion is, as it were, a robe entirely new,
not a patch of unteazled cloth upon an old robe, serving only to make •
worse its original rents ; " that it is not new wine, put, in all its fresh
fermenting, expansive strength, into old and worn wine-skins, and so
serving only to burst the wine-skins and be lost, but new wine in
fresh wine-skins.3 The new spirit was to be embodied in wholly
renovated forms ; the new freedom was to be untrammelled by obso
lete and long meaningless limitations ; the spiritual doctrine was to
be sundered for ever from mere elaborate and external ceremonials.
St Luke also has preserved for us the tender and remarkable addi
tion — " No man also having drunk old wine straightway desireth
new : for he saith, The old is excellent." 4 Perhaps the fact that
these words were found to be obscure has caused the variety of read
ings in the original text. There is nothing less like the ordinary
character of man than to make allowance for difference of opinion in
matters of religion ; yet it is the duty of doing this which the words
imply. He had been showing them that His kingdom was something
more than a restitution (dnonaTtxaraaii), it was a re-creation
(naXiyysvaeid) ; but He knew how hard it was for men trained in
the" tradition of the Pharisees, and in admiration for the noble asceti
cism of the Baptist, to accept truths which were to them both new
and strange ; and, therefore, even when He is endeavoring to lighten
their darkness, He shows that He can look on them " with larger
other eyes, to make allowance for them all."
1 A dim hint of the same kind had been given in the private conversation with
Nicodemus (John iii. 14). The word ditapBy, clearly implying a violent termina
tion of His career, which is here used by each of the Synoptists (Matt. ix. 15 ;
Mark. ii. 20), occurs nowhere else in the New Testament.
2 Matt. ix. 16, pdxovi dyvdcpov.213
' oivov viov eti ddxovi xaivovi fiXr/reov (Luke v. 38). Similes not unlike
this may he found in heathen literature, and we know that our Lord did not shun
such existing parallels (Acts xxvi. 14). The fact, however, that His . next words
in St. Luke (v. 39) run into an iambic line, ovSeii . . itimv itaXaidv EvBeaoi
Be'Xei veov, is probably as purely accidental as the previous iambic in verse 21,
rii idriv ovroi oi XaXsi fiXadcprifiiai.
1 Leg. xpvdroi. (K, B, L.)
35

274 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXY.
THE DAT OF MATTHEW'S FEAST (continued).
" Is there no physician there ? " — Jer. viii. 22.
The feast was scarcely over at the house of Matthew,1 and Jesus
was still engaged in the kindly teaching which arose out of the ques
tion of John's disciples, when another event occurred which led in
succession to three of the greatest miracles of His earthly life."
A ruler of the synagogue — the rosh hakkeneseth, or chief elder of
the congregation, to whom the Jews looked with great respect —
came to Jesus in extreme agitation. It is not improbable that this
ruler of the synagogue had been one of the very deputation who had
pleaded with Jesus for the centurion -proselyte by whom it had been
built. If so, he knew by experience the power of Him to whom he
now appealed. Flinging himself at His feet with broken words 3 —
which in the original still sound as though they were interrupted and
rendered incoherent by bursts of grief — He tells Him that his little
daughter, his only daughter, is dying, is dead ; but still, if He will
but come and lay His hand upon her, she shall live. With the ten
derness which could not be deaf to a mourner's cry, Jesus rose4 at
once from the table, and went with him, followed not only by His
disciples, but also by a dense expectant multitude, which had been
witness of the scene. And as He went the people in their eagerness
pressed upon Him and thronged Him.
But among this throng — containing doubtless some of the Phari
sees and of John's disciples with whom He had been discoursing, as
well as some of the publicans and sinners with whom He had been
seated at the feast — there was one who had not been attracted by
1 The note of time in Matt. ix. 18, " while He spake these things unto them," is
here quite explicit ; and St. Matthew is most likely to have followed the exact
order of events on a day which was to him so memorable, as his last farewell to
his old life as a Galilaean publican.
2 Matt. ix. 18—26 ; Mark v. 22—43 ; Luke viii. 41—56.
3 Mark v. 23. Considering the position of Jairus, this little incident strikingly
shows the estimation in which Jesus was held at this time even by men of
leading position.
* Matt. ix. 19, iyepBeii.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 275
curiosity to witness what would be done for the ruler of the syna
gogue. It was a woman who for twelve years had suffered from
a distressing malady, which unfitted her for all the relationships
of life, and which was peculiarly afflicting, because in the popular
mind it was regarded as a direct consequence of sinful habits
In vain had she wasted her substance and done fresh injury to
her health in the effort to procure relief from many different phy
sicians,1 and now, as a last desperate resource, she would try what
could be gained without money and without price from the Great
Physician. Perhaps, in her ignorance, it was because she had
no longer any reward to offer ; perhaps because she was ashamed in
her feminine modesty to reveal the malady from which she had been
suffering ; but from whatever cause, she determined, as it were, to
steal from Him, unknown, the blessing for which she longed. And
so/ with the strength and pertinacity of despair, she struggled in that
dense throng until she was near enough to touch Him ; and then,
perhaps all the more violently from her extreme nervousness, she
grasped the white fringe of His robe. By the law of Moses every
Jew was to wear at each corner of his tallith a fringe or tassel,
bound by a riband of symbolic blue, to remind him that he was holy
to God." Two of these fringes usually hung down at the bottom of
the robe ; one hung over the shoulder where the robe was folded
round the person. It was probably this one that she touched 3 with
secret and trembling haste, and then, feeling instantly that she had
gained her desire and was healed, she shrunk back unnoticed into the
throng. Unnoticed by others, but not by Christ. Perceiving that
healing power had gone out of Him, recognizing the one magnetic
touch of timid faith even amid the pressure of the crowd, He stopped
and asked, " Who touched my clothes ? " There was something
almost impatient in the reply of Peter, as though in such a throng he
' Mark v. 26, itoXXd itaBovda vito itoXXaov iarpmv. The physician Evangel
ist St. Luke (viii. 43) mentions that in this attempt she had wasted all her
substance (oXov rov /3iov). This might well have been the case if they had
recommended to her nothing better than the strange Talmudic recipes mentioned
by Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. in Marc. v. 26. (See Wunderbar, BMisch-talmudische
Medicin.) The recipes are not, however, worse than those given by Luther in
his Table Talk, who (in the old English translation of the book) exclaims, " How
great is the mercy of God who has put such healing virtue in all manner of
muck ! "
" Numb. xv. 37 — 40 ; Deut. xxii. 12. The Hebrew word is kanephSth, literally
" wings ; " and the white tassels with their blue or purple thread were called
tsitsith. ' It is not easy to stoop down in a thick moving crowd, nor could she have done
so unobserved.

276 TRE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
thought it absurd to ask, " Who touched me ? " 1 But Jesus, His
eyes still wandering over the many faces, told him that there was a
difference between the crowding of curiosity and the touch of faith,
and as at last*His glance fell on the poor woman, she, perceiving that
she had erred in trying to filch the blessing which He would have
graciously bestowed, came forward fearing and trembling, and, fling
ing herself at His feet, told Him all the truth. All her feminine
shame and fear were forgotten in her desire to atone for her fault.
Doubtless she dreaded His anger, for the law expressly ordained that
the touch of one afflicted as she was, caused ceremonial uncleanness
till the evening." But His touch had cleansed her, not her's polluted
Him. So far from being indignant, He said to her, " Daughter " —
and at once the sound of that gracious word sealed her pardon — "go
for peace : 3 thy faith hath saved thee ; be healed from thy disease."
The incident must have caused a brief delay, and, as we have seen,
to the anguish of Jairus every instant was critical. But he was not
the only sufferer who had a claim on the Saviour's mercy ; and, as he
uttered no complaint, it is clear that sorrow had not made him sel
fish. But at this moment a messenger reached him with the brief
message — "Thy daughter is dead;" and then, apparently with a
touch of dislike and irony, he added, " Worry not the Rabbi." 4
The message had not been addressed to Jesus, but He overheard
it,6 and with a compassionate desire to spare the poor father from
needless agony, He said to him those memorable words, " Fear not,
only believe." They soon arrived at his house, and found it occu-
1 " Illi premunt, ista tetigit"220 (Aug., Serm. ccxlv.). "Caro premit, fides tan-
git " 221 (id. lxii. 4). (Trench, Miracles, p. 204.)
2 Lev. xv. 19. The Pharisees shrunk from a woman's touch, as they do now.
" The chakams were especially careful to avoid being touched by any part of the
women's dresses " (Frankl, Jews in the East, ii. 81).
3 As before (Luke vii. 50), this corresponds to the Hebrew expression, B/hwb.
Our Lord addressed no other woman by the title Ovyarep. Legend has assigned
to this woman Veronica as a name, and Paneas (Caesarea Philippi) as a residence.
An ancient statue of bronze at this place was believed to represent her in the act
of touching the fringe of Christ's robe ; and Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. vii. 18) and
Sozomen (Hist. Eccl. v. 21) both mention this statue, which is believed to have
been so curious a testimony to the reality of Christ's miracle, that Julian the
Apostate — or, according to another account, Maximus — is charged with having
destroyed it.
4 The curious word dxi'XXs, something like our " worry," or " bother," is used
here, and here alone (except in Luke vii. 6), by both St. Mark and St. Luke. (The
idxvXfievoi of Matt. ix. 36 is a dubious reading.)
6 Mark v. 36, itapaxovdai (K B, L). The word occurs nowhere else in the Ne^t
Testament.

THE LIFE OF GHRIST. 277
pied by the hired mourners and flute-players, who, as they beat their
breasts, with mercenary clamor, insulted the dumbness of sincere
sorrow, and the patient majesty of death.1 Probably this simulated
wailing would be very repulsive to the soul of Christ ; and first stop
ping at the door to forbid any of the multitude to follow Him, He
entered the house with three only of the inmost circle of His Apos
tles — Peter, and James, and John. On entering, His first care was
to still the idle noise •; but when His kind declaration — " The little
maid" is not dead, but sleep'eth" — was only received with coarse
ridicule,3 He indignantly ejected the paid mourners.4 When calm
was restored, He took with Him the father and the mother and His
three Apostles, and entered with quiet reverence the chamber hal
lowed by the silence and awfulness of death. Then, taking the little
cold dead hand, He uttered these two thrilling words, " Talitha
cumi " — " Little, maid, arise ! " ' and her spirit returned, and the
child arose and walked. An awful amazement seized the parents ; '
but Jesus calmly bade them give the child some food. And if He
added his customary warning that they should not speak of what had
happened, it was not evidently in the intention that the entire fact
should remain unknown — for that would have been impossible, when
all the circumstances had been witnessed by so many — but because
those who have received from God's hand unbounded mercy are more
likely to reverence that mercy with adoring gratitude if it be kept
like a bidden treasure in the inmost heart.
Crowded and overwhelming as had been the incidents of this long
night and day, it seems probable from St. Matthew that .it was sig-
1 At this time among the Jews, no less than among the Romans,
" Cantabat fanis, eantabat tibia ludis,
Gantabat moestis tibia f uneribus." 222 (Ov. Fast, vi.)
The Rabbinic rule provided that there should be at least two flute-players, and
one mourning-woman (Selden, Uxor. Hebr. iii. 8). The amount of noise indicated
byt\ieB6pv/3ov,xXaiovrai xai dXaXdXovrai itoXXd (Mark v. 38) recalls to us
the "Quantum non superant tria funera" 223 of Hor. Sat. i 6,43. The custom
was doubtless ancient (Eccles xii. 5 ; Jer. ix. 17 ; Amos v. 16 ; 2 Chron. xxxv. 25) .
St. Luke adds the beating on the breast (viii. 52 ; cf . Nahum ii. 7). The custom
still continues ; " they weep, howl, beat their breasts, and tear their hair accord
ing to contract " (Thomson, Land and Book, I., ch. viii.).
2 Mark v. 39, to itaiSiov. She waB twelve years old.
3 The Evangelists use the strong expression, xarsyeXcov avrov.
1 Mark v. 40, tx/3aXadv itavrai.
5 Doubtless St. Peter, who was actually present, told his friend and kinsman
Mark the actual words which Christ had used. They are interesting also as bear
ing on the question of the language which He generally spoke.
6 Mark v. 42. i^EdTrjdav iudrddsi /ueydXp.

278 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
nalized by yet one more astonishing work of power. For as He
departed thence two blind men followed Him with the cry - as yet
unheard — " Son of David, have mercy on us." Already Christ had
begun to check, as it were, the spontaneity of His miracles. He had
performed more than sufficient to attest His power and mission, and
it was important that men should pay more heed to His divine eter
nal teaching than to His temporal healings. Nor would He as yet
sanction the premature, and perhaps ill-considered, use of the Messianic
title " Son of David " — a title which, had he publicly accepted it, might
have thwarted His sacred purposes, by leading to an instantaneous
revolt in His favor against the Roman power. Without noticing the
men or their cry, He went to the house in Capernaum where He abode ;
nor was it until they had persistently followed Him into the house that
He tested their faith by the question, " Believe ye that I am able to do
this?" They said unto Him, "Yea, Lord." Then touched He then
eyes, saying, "According to your faith be it unto you." And their eyes
were opened. Like so many whom He healed, they neglected his stern
command not to reveal it.1 There are some who have admired their
disobedience, and have attributed it to the enthusiasm of gratitude and
admiration ; but was it not rather the enthusiasm of a blatant wonder,
the vulgarity of a chattering boast ? How many of these multitudes
who had been healed by Him became His true disciples ? Did not the
holy fire of devotion which a hallowed silence must have kept alive
upon the altar of their hearts die away in the mere blaze of empty
rumor? Did not He know best? Would not obedience have been
better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams? Yes. It
is possible to deceive ourselves; it is possible to offer to Christ a
seeming service which disobeys His inmost precepts — to grieve Him,
under the guise of honoring Him, by vain repetitions, and empty
genuflexions, and bitter intolerance, and irreverent familiarity, and
the hollow simulacrum of a dead devotion. Better, far better, to
serve Him by doing the things He said than by a seeming zeal, often
false in exact proportion to its obtrusiveness, for the glory of His
name. These disobedient babblers, who talked so much of Him, did
but offer him the dishonoring service of a double heart ; their viola
tion of His commandment served only to hinder His usefulness, to
trouble His spirit, and to precipitate His death.
1 Matt. ix. 27—31.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 279

CHAPTER XXVI.
A VISIT TO JERUSALEM.
" Simplicity is the best viaticum for the Christian." — Clem. Alex. Paed. ii.
Ant one who has carefully and repeatedly studied the Gospel
narratives side by side, in order to form from them as clear a concep
tion as is possible of the life of Christ on earth, can hardly fail to
have been struck with two or three general facts respecting the
sequence of events in His public ministry. In spite of the difficulty
introduced by the varying and non-chronological arrangements of the
Synoptists, and by the silence of the fourth Gospel about the main
part of the preaching in Galilee, we see distinctly the following cir
cumstances : —
1. That the innocent enthusiasm of joyous welcome with which
Jesus and His words and works were at first received in Northern
Galilee gradually, but in a short space of time, gave way to suspicion,
dislike, and even hostility on the part of large and powerful sections
of the people.
2. That the external character, as well as the localities, of our
Lord's mission were much altered after the murder of John the
Baptist. 3. That the tidings of this murder, together with a marked develop
ment of opposition, and the constant presence of Scribes and Phari
sees from Judsea to watch His conduct and dog His movements,
seems to synchronize with a visit to Jerusalem not recorded by the
Synoptists, but evidently identical with the nameless festival men
tioned in John v. 1.
4. That this unnamed festival must have occurred somewhere
about that period of His ministry at which we have now arrived.
What this feast was we shall consider immediately ; but it was
preceded by another event — the mission of the Twelve Apostles.
At the close of the missionary journeys, during which occurred
some of the events described in the last chapters, Jesus was struck
with compassion at the sight of the multitude.1 They reminded Him
of sheep harassed by enemies, and lying panting and neglected in the

1 Matt. ix. 35—38.

280 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
fields because they have no shepherd.1 They also call up to the mind
the image of a harvest ripe, but unreaped for lack of laborers ; and
He bade His Apostles pray to the Lord of the harvest that He would
send forth laborers into His harvest. And then, immediately after
wards, having Himself now traversed the whole of Galilee, He sent
them out two and two to confirm His teaching and perform works of
mercy in His name."
Before sending them He naturally gave them the instructions which
were to guide their conduct. At present they were to confine their
mission to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and not extend it to
Samaritans or Gentiles. The topic of their preaching was to be the
nearness of the kingdom of heaven, and it was to be freely supported
by works of power and beneficence. They were to take nothing
with them ; no scrip for food ; no purse for money ; no change of
raiment ; * no travelling shoes (vnodr\fxara, calcei) in place of their
ordinary palm-bark sandals, they were not even to procure a staff for
the journey if they did not happen already to possess one ; 4 their
mission— like all the greatest and most effective missions which the
world has ever known — was to be simple and self-supporting. The
open hospitality of the East, so often used as the basis for a dissem
ination of new thoughts, would be ample for their maintenance.6 On
1 Ver. 36, idnvXpsvoi . . i/5pi)j.pEvoi ; the reading iuXEXvp-evoi is per
haps a gloss for the unfamiliar word.
2 Matt. x. 1—42 ; Mark vi. 7—13 ; Luke ix. 1—6.
8 Few ordinary peasants in the East can boast of a change of garments. They
even sleep in the clothes which they wear during the day.
4 That this was the meaning of the injunctions appears from a comparison of
the three Evangelists. The p?/8i pdjiSov of Matt. x. 10 depends on fir) xrrfdijdBE,
" do not procure for the purposes of this journey," and is therefore no contradic
tion to the st firj pd/38ov povov of Mark vi. 8. Keim's remarks — " Diese Wend-
ung der Dinge hat dann freilich dem Markus nicht eingeleuchtet ; er ist kein
Freund der nackten Armuth. . . . aber filr Mitnahme eines Stockes und
Anlegung von Sandalen spricht er sich mit grosser fast komischer Bestimmtheit
aus " 224 (Gesch. Jesu, II. i., p. 327) — are captious and shallow. As regards these
minute differences, we may observe that probably in many instances they merely
arise from the fact that our Lord used Aramaic phrases, which are capable
of trivial variation in the limits within which they were understood : e. g., if here
He said, nDD DX "O, it might mean, " even if ye have a staff, it is superfluous."
(Ebrard, Gosp. History, p. 295, E. Tr.)
5 Renan notices the modern analogy. When travelling in the East no one need
ever scruple to go into the best house of any Arab village to which he comes, and
he will alwayB be received with profuse and gratuitous hospitality. From the
moment we entered any house, it was regarded as our own. There is not an Arab
you meet who will not empty for you the last drop in his water-skin, or. share
with you his last piece of black bread. The Rabbis said that Paradise was the
reward of willing hospitality. (Schottgen, Hor., Hebr. 108.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 281
entering a town they were to go to any house in it where they had
reason to hope that they would be welcome, and to salute it with the
immemorial and much-valued blessing, ShaUm lakem,1 " Peace be to
you," and if the children of peace were there the blessing would be
effective ; if not, it would return on their own heads. If rejected,
they were to shake off the dust of their feet in witness that they had
spoken faithfully, and that they thus symbolically cleared themselves
of all responsibility for that judgment which should fall more heavily
on wilful and final haters of the light than on the darkest places of
a heathendom in which the fight had never, or but feebly, shone.
So far their Lord had pointed out to them the duties of trust
ful faith, of gentle courtesy, of self-denying simplicity, as the first
essentials of missionary success. He proceeded to fortify them against
the inevitable trials and persecutions of their missionary work.
They needed and were to exercise the wisdom of serpents no less
than the harmlessness of doves ; for He was sending them forth as
sheep among wolves.
Doubtless these discourses were not always delivered in the contin
uous form in which they have naturally come down to us. Our Lord
seems at all times to have graciously encouraged the questions of
humble and earnest listeners ; and at this point we are told by an
ancient tradition," that St. Peter — ever, we may be sure, a most
eager and active-minded listener — interrupted his Master with the
not unnatural question, " But how then if the wolves should tear the
lambs ? " And Jesus answered, smiling perhaps at the naiive and
literal intellect of His chief Apostle, " Let not the lambs fear the
wolves when the lambs are once dead, and do you fear not those who
can kill you and do nothing to you, but fear Him who after you are
1 DjS diW (Gen. xliii. 23). It was believed to include every blessing. Have
not our missionaries sometimes erred from forgetting the spirit of this injunction?
It has been too caustically and bitterly said — and yet the saying may find some
occasional justification — that missionaries have too often proceeded on the plan
of (1) discovering all the prejudices of a people, and (2) shocking them. Doubt
less this has been only due to an ill-guided zeal ¦; but so did not St. Paul. He was
most courteous and most conciliatory in his address to the Athenians, and he lived
for three and a half years at Ephesus, without once reviling or insulting the wor
shippers of Artemis.
*2 Clemens Romanus, xi. 5 (about A. D. 140 ; see Lightfoot's Clemens Romanuiy
This is one of the dypacpa Soy para, unwritten traditional sayings of our Lord
which there is no reason to doubt. 'AitoxpiBsii Si 6 Uirpoi avrao Xe'yei,
lEdv ovv Siaditapd^oodiv oi Xvxoi rd dpvia ; Eiitsv 6 'fydovi tgo LXirpm,
Mrj cpoflEidBGOdav rd dpvia rovi Xvxovi psrd to dnoBavEiv dvrd.™ The
remainder of the passage is merely a reference to Matt. \-. 28.
36

282 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
dead hath power over soul and body to cast them into hell-fire."
And then, continuing the thread of His discourse, He warned them
plainly how, both at this time and again long afterwards, they might
be brought before councils, and scourged in synagogues,1 and stand
at the judgment-bar of kings, and yet without any anxious premedi
tation," the Spirit should teach them what to say. The doctrine of
peace should be changed by the evil passions of men into a war-cry
of fury and hate, and they might be driven to fly before the face of
enemies from city to city. Still let them endure to the end, for
before they had gone through the cities of Israel, the Son of Man
should have come."
Then, lastly, He at once warned and comforted them by remind
ing them of what He Himself had suffered, and how He had been
opposed. Let them not fear. The God who cared even for the little
birds when they fell to the ground4 — the God by whom the very
hairs of their head were numbered — the God who (and here He
glanced back perhaps at the question of Peter) held in His hand the
issues, not of life and death only, but of eternal life and of eternal
death, and who was therefore more to be feared than the wolves of
earth — He was with them ; He would acknowledge those whom
His Son acknowledged, and deny those whom He denied. They
were being sent forth into a world, of strife, whieh would seem even
the more deadly because of the peace which it rejected. Even their
nearest and their dearest might side with the world against them.
But they who would be His true followers must for His sake give up
all ; must even take up their cross ° and follow Him. But then, for
their comfort, He told them that they should be as He was in the
world ; that they who receive them should receive Him ; that to lose
their fives for His sake would be to more than find them ; that a cup
1 For the dvvsSpia see Deut. xvi. 18. For the power of the synagogue officers
to punish by scourging, see Acts v. 40 ; 2 Cor. xi. 24.
2 Matt. x. 19. The " take no thought " of the A. V. is too strong ; as in Matt.
vi. 25, it means " be not over-anxious about."
3 This glance into the farther future probably belongs to a much later dis
course ; and the coming of the Son of Man is here understood in its first and
narrower signification of the downfall of Judaism, and the establishment of a
kingdom of Christ on earth, which some at least among them lived to see.
4 Matt. x. 29. Little birds are still strung together and sold for " two farthings "
in the towns of Palestine.
5 If this were not a proverbial allusion (as seems probable from its use in
Plutarch, De Ser. Num. Vind. ix., sxadroi xaxovpycov ixcpspsi rov avrov
dravpov 226), it must have been a dark saying to the Apostles at this time.
Perhaps it belongs to a much later occasion, after He had distinctly prophesied
the certainty and nature of His future sufferings.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 283
of cold water given to the youngest and humblest of His fittle ones '
should not miss of its reward.
Such is an outline of these great parting instructions as given
by St. Matthew, and every missionary and every minister should
write them in letters of gold. The sterility of missionary labor is a
constant subject of regret and discouragement among us. Would it
be so if all our missions were carried out in this wise and conciliatory,
in this simple and self -abandoning, in this faithful and dauntless spirit?
Was a missionary ever unsuccessful who, being -enabled by the grace
of God to live in the light of such precepts as these," worked as St.
Paul worked, or St. Francis Xavier, or Henry Martyn, or Adoniram
Judson, or John Eliot, or David Schwarz ?
That the whole of this discourse was not delivered on this occasion,3
that there are references in it to later periods,4 that parts of it are only
applicable to other apostolic missions which as yet lay far in the future,1
seems clear ; but we may, nevertheless, be grateful that St. Matthew,
guided as usual by unity of subject, collected into one focus the scat
tered rays of instruction delivered, perhaps, on several subsequent
occasions — as for instance, before the sending of the Seventy, and
even as the parting utterances of the risen Christ."
The Jews were familiar with the institution of Sheluchim, the
plenipotentiaries of some higher authority. This was the title by
which Christ seems to have marked out the position of His Apostles.
It was a wise and merciful provision that he sent them out two and
two ; * it enabled them to hold sweet converse together, and mutually
to correct each other's faults. Doubtless the friends and the brothers
' Alford ingeniously conjectures that some children may have been present.
2 Of course I do not imply that a missionary is bound to serve gratuitously ; that
would be against the distinct statement of our Lord (Matt. x. 10, 11) ; yet there
are occasions when even this may be desirable (1 Cor. ix. 15 — 19 ; 2 Cor. xi. 9 — 12 ;
1 Thess. ii. 9, &c). But Christ meant all His commands to be interpreted accord
ing to their spirit, and we must not overlook the fact that this method of preach-
ing teas (and is) made more common and easy in the East than for us. " Nor was
there in this," says Dr. Thomson, " any departure from the simple manners of
the country. At this day the farmer sets out on excursions quite as extensive
without a pa/ra in his purse, and the modern Moslem prophet of Tarishiidehah
thus sends forth his apostles over this identical region." (The Land and tlie Book,
p. 346).
3 St. Mark and St. Luke only give, at this juncture, an epitome of its first
section. 4 Ex. gr., perhaps some of the expressions in verses 8, 23, 25, 38.
6 Ex. gr., verses 18 — 23.
« Cf. Mark xvi. 15—18 ; Luke x. 2—12 ; Luke xxiv. 47.
2 The Rabbis held it a fault to journey without a friend with whom to converse
about the sacred Law (Soh. Chad., f. 61, 1 ; Schottgen, p. 89).

284 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
went in pairs ; the fiery Peter with the more contemplative Andrew ;
the Sons of Thunder — one influential and commanding, the other
emotional and eloquent ; the kindred faith and gufielessness of Philip
and Bartholomew ; the slow but faithful Thomas with the thoughtful
and devoted Matthew ; the ascetic James with his brother the impas
sioned Jude ; the zealot Simon to fire with his theocratic zeal the
dark, flagging, despairing spirit of the traitor Judas.
During their absence Jesus continued His work alone,1 perhaps as
He slowly made His way towards Jerusalem ; for if we can speak of
probability at all amid the deep uncertainties of the chronology of
His ministry, it seems extremely probable that it is to this point that
the verse belongs — " After this there was a feast of the Jews, and
Jesus went up to Jerusalem." " In order not to break the continuity
of the narrative, I shall omit the discussion here, but I shall in the
Appendix 3 give ample reasons, as far as the text is concerned, and as
far as the time required by the narrative is concerned, for believing
that this nameless feast was in all probability the Feast of Purim.
But how came Jesus to go up to Jerusalem for such a feast as this
: — a feast which was the saturnalia of Judaism ; a feast which was
without divine authority,4 and had its roots in the most intensely ex-
elusive, not to say vindictive, feelings of the nation ; a feast of merri
ment and masquerade, which was purely social and often discreditably
convivial ; a feast which was unconnected with religions services, and
was observed, not in the Temple, not even necessarily in the syna
gogues, but mainly in the private houses of the Jews ? "
The answer seems to be that, although Jesus was in Jerusalem at
this feast, and went up about the time that it was held, the words of
St. John do not necessarily imply that He went up for the express
purpose of being present at this particular festival. The Passover
took place only a month afterwards, and He may well have gone up
1 Matt. xi. 1.
2 John v. 1. Omitted by the Synoptists, who, until the close, narrate only the
ministry in Galilee.
3 See Excursus VIII., " The Unnamed Feast of John v. 1."
4 To such an extent was this the case, that no less than eighty-five elders are
said to have protested against its original institution, regarding it as an innova
tion against the Law (Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. on John x. 22). It seems to have
originated among the Jews of the dispersion.
B Perhaps more nearly resembling in its origin and character our Guy Fawkes'
Day than anything else. Caspari calls it "ein Rache-, Fluch- und Sauffest"
(Chronol. Geogr. Eiul., p. 113); but there is no proof that it was so at that time.
In this particular year, the Feast of Purim seems to have coincided with a
Sabbath (John v. 10), an arrangement carefully avoided in the later Jewish
calendar. (See Wieseler, Synopsis, p. 199, E. Tr.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 285
mainly with the intention 'of being present at the Passover, although
He gladly availed himself of an opportunity for being in Judsea and
Jerusalem a month before it, both that He might once more preach
in those neighborhoods, and that He might avoid the publicity and
dangerous excitement involved in His joining the caravan of the
Passover pilgrims from Galilee. Such an opportunity may naturally
have arisen from the absence of the Apostles on their missionary
tour. The Synoptists give clear indications that Jesus had friends
and well-wishers at Jerusalem and in its vicinity. He must there
fore have paid visits to those regions which they do not record.
Perhaps it was among those friends that He awaited the return of
His immediate followers. We know the deep affection which he
entertained for the members of one household in Bethany, and it is
not unnatural to suppose that He was now living in the peaceful
seclusion of that pious household as a solitary and honored guest.
But even if St. John intends us to believe that the occurrence of
this feast was the immediate cause of this visit to Jerusalem, we must
bear in mind that there is no proof whatever of its having been in
our Lord's time the fantastic and disorderly commemoration which
it subsequently became. The nobler-minded Jews doubtless observed
it in a calm and grateful manner ; and as one part of the festival
consisted in showing acts of kindness to the poor, it may have offered
an attraction to Jesus both on this ground, and because it enabled
Him to show that there was nothing unnational or unpatriotic in the
universal character of His message, or the all-embracing infinitude of
the charity which He both practised and enjoined.
There remains then but a single question. The Passover was
rapidly drawing near, and His presence at that great feast would on
every ground be expected. Why then did He absent Himself from
it ? Why did He return to Gafilee instead of remaining at Jerusa
lem ? The events which we are about to narrate will furnish a suffi
cient answer to this question.

286 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXVLT.
THE MIEACLE AT BETHESDA.
EH ditepavroXoyiav oi tgov UovSaiaov SiSddxaXoi iXifXvBadi q>d-
dxovrEi fiddray/ia /uiv sivai rd roiovSs vitoSr/pa ov /utfv rd roiovSe,
x. r. X.™ — Okig. Opp. i. 179.
There was in Jerusalem, near the Sheep-gate, a pool, which was
believed to possess remarkable healing properties. For this reason,
in addition to its usual name, it had been called in Hebrew " Be
thesda," or the House of Mercy,1 and under the porticos which adorned
the pentagonal masonry in which it was enclosed lay a multitude of
sufferers from blindness, lameness, and atrophy, waiting to take
advantage of the bubbling and gushing of the water, which showed
that its medicinal properties were at their highest. There is no
indication in the narrative that any one who thus used the water was
at once, or miraculously, healed ; but the repeated use of an inter
mittent and gaseous spring — and more than one of the springs about
Jerusalem continue to be of this character to the present day — was
doubtless likely to produce most beneficial results.
A very early popular legend, which has crept by interpolation into
the text of St. John," attributed the healing, qualities of the water to
1 John v. 2, iitiXey opivrj. There are great varieties of reading ; Tischendorf,
with K, reads BijBZaBa. Perhaps this is sufficient to account for the silence of
Josephus, who may mention it under another name. The pool now pointed out
to the traveller as Bethesda is Birket Israel, which seems, however, to have formed
part of the deep fosse round the Tower of Antonia. The pool may have been the
one now known as the Fountain of the Virgin, not far from Siloam, and connected
with it (as Dr. Robinson discovered, Bibl. Researches, i. 509) by a subterranean
passage. He himself had an opportunity of observing the intermittent character
of this fountain, which, he was told, bubbles up " at irregular intervals, some
times two and three times a day, and sometimes in summer once in two or three
days." (Bibl. Researches, i. 341.)
2 The weight of evidence both external and internal against the genuineness of
John v. 3, 4 (from the word ixSsxopsvGov 22S) seems to me overwhelming. 1. It
is omitted by not a few of the weightiest MSS. and versions (N, B, D, the Cureton
Syriac). 2. In others in which it does occur it is obelised as dubious. 3. It
abounds in various readings, showing that there is something suspicious about it.
4. It contains in the short compass of a few lines no less than seven words not
found elsewhere in the New Testament, or only found with a different sense.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 287
the descent of an angel who troubled the pool at irregular intervals,
leaving the first persons who could scramble into it to profit by the
immersion. This solution of the phenomenon was in fact so entirely
in accordance with the Semitic habit of mind, that, in the universal
ignorance of all scientific phenomena, and the utter indifference to
close investigation which characterize most Orientals, the populace
would not be likely to trouble themselves about the possibility of any
other explanation. But whatever may have been the general belief
about the cause, the fact that the water was found at certain intervals
to be impregnated with gases which gave it a strengthening property,
was sufficient to attract a concourse of many sufferers.
Among these was one poor man who, for no less than thirty-eight
years, had been lamed by paralysis. He had haunted the porticoes of
this pool, but without effect ; for as he was left there unaided, and as
the motion of the water occurred at irregular times, others more for
tunate and less feeble than himself managed time after time to struggle
in before him, until the favorable moment had been lost.1
Jesus, looked on the man with heartfelt pity. It was obvious that
the will of the poor destitute creature was no less stricken with
paralysis than his limbs, and his whole life was one long atrophy of
ineffectual despair. But Jesus was minded to make His Purim
present to the poor, to whom He had neither silver nor gold to give.
He would help a fellow-sufferer, whom no one had cared or conde
scended to help before.
" Wiliest thou to be made whole? "
At first the words hardly stirred the man's long and despondent
lethargy ; he scarcely seems even to have looked up. But thinking,
5. It relates a most startling fact, one wholly unlike anything else in Scripture,
one not alluded to by a single other writer, Jewish or heathen, and one which,
had there been the slightest ground for believing in its truth, would certainly not
have been passed over in silence by Josephus. 6. Its insertion (to explain 'the
•word TapaxBy22i in verse 7) is easily accounted for ; its omission, had it been in
the original text, is quite inconceivable. Accordingly, it is rejected from the text
by the best editors as a spurious gloss, and indeed there is no earlier trace of its
existence than an allusion to it in Tertullian (De Bapt. 5). (Ob. circ. A. D. 220.)
1 Strauss and his school make all kinds of objections to this narrative. " Lat
terly," as Lange observes, with cutting sarcasm, "a crowd of ' critical ' remarks
have been seen lying round the pool of Bethesda, like another multitude of blind,
lame, and withered." They hold it impossible that the man who, as they assume,
must have had some one to take him to the pool, neve"r had any one to put him in
at the right time. Such remarks are very trivial. 1. St. John says nothing^ of
any one bringing, him to the pool ; he may have lived close by, and been able to
crawl there himself. 2. He does not say that the pool wrought instantaneous
cures, or that the man had never been put into the troubled water .

288 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
perhaps, with a momentary gleam of hope, that this was some stranger
who, out of kindness of heart, might help him into the water when
it was again agitated, he merely narrated in reply the misery of his
long and futile expectation. Jesus had intended a speedier and niore
effectual aid.
"Rise," He said, "take thy couch and walk."
It was spoken in an accent that none could disobey. The manner
of the Speaker, His voice, His mandate, thrilled like an electric spark
through the withered limbs and the shattered constitution, enfeebled
by a lifetime of suffering and sin.1 After thirty;eight years of pros
tration, the man instantly rose, lifted up his pallet, and began to
walk." In glad amazement he looked round to see and to thank his
unknown benefactor ; but the crowd was large, and Jesus, anxious to
escape the unspiritual excitement which would fain have regarded
Him as a thaumaturge alone, had quietly slipped away from obser
vation.3 In spite of this, many scrupulous and jealous eyes were soon upon
Him. In proportion as the inner power and meaning of a religion
are dead, in that proportion very often is an exaggerated import
attached Jo its outer forms. Formalism and indifference, pedantic
scrupulosity and absolute disbelief, are correlative, and ever flourish
side by side. It was so with Judaism in the days of Christ. Its
living and burning enthusiasm was quenched; its lofty and noble
faith had died away; its prophets had ceased to prophesy; its poets
had ceased to sing'; its priests were no longer clothed with righteous
ness ; its saints were few. The axe was at the root of the barren
tree, and its stem served only to nourish a fungous brood of ceremo
nials and traditions, " Deathlike, and colored like a corpse's cheek."
And thus it was that the observance of the Sabbath, which had been
intended to secure for weary men a rest full of love and peace and
mercy, had become a mere national Fetish — a barren custom fenced
in with the most frivolous and senseless restrictions. Well-nigh every
great provision of the Mosaic law had now been degraded into a mere
1 See verse 14, and below,
2 The xpdfifiarov was probably nothing more than a mere paillasse, or folded
dbeiyah. To regard such a trivial effort as a violation of the Sabbath was a piece
of superstitious literalism not derived from Scripture, but founded on the Oral
Law. 3 i&vevdsv (ver. 13); literally, "swam out." Cf. Eur., Hippol. 471; Thuc.
ii. 90.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 289
superfluity of meaningless minutiae, the delight of small natures, and
the grievous incubus of all true and natural piety.1
Now, when a religion has thus decayed into a superstition without
having lost its external power, it is always more than ever tyrannous
and suspicious in its hunting for heresy. The healed paralytic was
soon surrounded by a group of questioners. They looked at him
with surprise and indignation.
" It is the Sabbath ; it is not lawful for thee to carry thy bed."
Here was a flagrant case of violation of their law ! Had not the
son of Shelomith, though half an Egyptian, been stoned to death for
gathering sticks on the Sabbath day ? " Had not the prophet Jeremiah
expressly said, " Take heed to yourselves, and bear no burden on the
Sabbath day?"3
Yes ; but why ? Because the Sabbath was an ordinance of mercy
intended to protect the underlings and the oppressed from a life of
incessant toil ; because it was essential to save the serfs and laborers
of the nation from the over-measure of labor which would have been
exacted from them in a nation afflicted with the besetting sin of greed ;
because the setting apart of one day in seven for sacred rest was of
infinite value to the spiritual life of all. That was the meaning of
the Fourth Commandment. In what respect was it violated by the
fact that a man who had been healed by a miracle wished to carry
home the mere pallet which was perhaps almost the only thing that
he possessed ? What the man really violated was not the law of
God, or even of Moses, but the wretched formalistic inferences of
their frigid tradition, which had gravely decided that on the Sabbath
a nailed shoe might not be worn because it was a burden, but that an
un-nailed shoe might be worn ; and that a person might go out with
two shoes on, but not with only one ; and that one man might carry
a loaf of bread, but that two men might not carry it between them,
and so forth, to the very utmost limit of tyrannous absurdity.4
" He that made me whole," replied the man, " He said to me, Take
up thy bed and walk."
1 The present Jews of Palestine, degraded and contemptible as is their con
dition — beggars, idlers, cheats, sensualists, as the .best of their own countrymen
confess them to be — still cling to all their Sabbatarian superstitions : e. g., " The
German Jews look upon it as a sin to use a stick of any kind on the Sabbath "
(Dr. Frankl, Jews in the East, E. Tr., ii. 6).
2 Lev. xxiv. 10—12 ; Numb. xv. 32—36.
3 Jer. xvii. 21.
4 ipvxpdi itapaSodsii cpEpovdi'30 (Orig.). These instances of hard and foolish
Judaic d7tepavroXoyia,m to which Origen expressly alludes, are preserved in
the Mishna, Shabb. x. 5. (Gfrorer, Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 18).
37

290 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
As far as the man was concerned, they accepted the plea ; a voice
fraught with miraculous power so stupendous that it could heal the
impotence of a lifetime by a word, was clearly, as far as the man was
concerned, entitled to some obedience. And the fact was that they
were actuated by a motive ; they were flying at higher game than
this insignificant and miserable sufferer. Nothing was to be gained
by worrying him.
" Who is it that " — mark the malignity of these Jewish authori
ties ! — not that made thee whole, for there was no heresy to be hunted
out in the mere fact of exercising miraculous power — but " that gave
thee the wicked command to take up thy bed and walk ? "
So fittle apparently, up to this time, was the person of Jesus gen
erally known in the suburbs of Jerusalem, or else so dull and languid
had been the man's attention while Jesus was first speaking to him,
that he actually did not know who his benefactor was. But he ascer
tained shortly afterwards. It is a touch of grace about him that we
next find him in the Temple, whither he may well have gone to
return thanks to God for this sudden and marvellous renovation of
his wasted life. There, too, Jesus saw him, and addressed to him
one simple memorable warning, " See, thou hast been made whole :
continue in sin no longer, lest something worse happen to thee." "
Perhaps the warning had been given because Christ read the mean
and worthless nature of the man ; at any rate, there is something at
first sight peculiarly revolting in the 15th verse. " The man went
and told the Jewish authorities that it was Jesus who had made him
whole." It is barely possible, though most unlikely, that he may
have meant to magnify the name of One who had wrought such a
mighty work ; but as he must have been well aware of the angry
feelings of the Jews — as we hear no word of his gratitude or devo
tion, no word of amazement or glorifying God — as, too, it must have
been abundantly clear to him that Jesus in working the miracle had
been touched by compassion only, and had been anxious to shun all
publicity — it must be confessed that the primd facie view of the
man's conduct is that it was an act of needless and contemptible dela
tion — a piece of most pitiful self -protection at the expense of his
benefactor — an almost inconceivable compound of feeble sycophancy
and base ingratitude. Apparently the warning of Jesi s had been
1 Such, as we have already observed, is all but invariably the meaning of oi
UovSaToi in St. John.
2 Alford speaks here of " the sin committed thirty-eight years ago, from which
this sickness had resulted;" but surely pr/xen dpaprave means more than
this : it means, " Be sinning — be a sinner — no longer."

THE LIFE OF -CHRIST. 291
most deeply necessary, as, if we judge the man aright, it was wholly
unavailing. For the consequences were immediate and disastrous. They
changed in fact the entire tenor of His remaining life. Untouched
by the evidence of a most tender compassion, unmoved by the dis
play of miraculous power, the Jewish inquisitors were up in arms to
defend their favorite piece of legalism. " They began to persecute
Jesus because He did such things on the Sabbath day."
And it was in answer to this charge that He delivered the divine
and lofty discourse preserved for us in the fifth chapter of St John.
Whether it was delivered in the Temple, or before some committee
of the Sanhedrin, we cannot tell ; but, at any rate, the great Rabbis
and Chief Priests who summoned Him before them that they might
rebuke and punish Him for a breach of the Sabbath, were amazed
and awed, if also they were bitterly and implacably infuriated, by the
words they heard. They had brought Him before them in order to
warn, and the warnings fell on them. They had wished to instruct
and reprove, and then, perhaps, condescendingly, for this once, to
pardon ; and lo ! He mingles for them the majesty of instruction
with the severity of compassionate rebuke. They sat round Him in
all the pomposities of their office, to overawe Him as an inferior, and,
lo ! they tremble, and gnash their teeth, though they dare not act,
while with words like a flame of fire piercing into the very joints and
marrow — with words more full of wisdom and majesty than those
which came among the thunders of Sinai — He assumes the awful
dignity of the Son of God.
And so the attempt to impress on Him their petty rules and literal
pietisms — to lecture Him on the heinousness of working miraculous
cures on the Sabbath day — perhaps to punish Him for the enormity
of bidding a healed man take up his bed — was a total failure. With
His very first word He exposes their materialism and ignorance.
They, in their feebleness, had thought of the Sabbath as though God
ceased from working thereon because He was fatigued ; He tells
them that that holy rest was a beneficent activity. They thought
apparently, as men think now, that God had resigned to certain mute
forces His creative energy ; He tells them that His Father is work
ing still ; and He, knowing His Father, and loved of Him, was work
ing with Him, and should do greater works than these which he had
now done. Already was He quickening the spiritually dead, and the
day should come when all in the tombs should hear his voice. Already
He was bestowing eternal life on all that believed in Him ; hereafter

292 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
should His, voice be heard in that final judgment of the quick and
dead which the Father had committed into His hands.1
Was He merely bearing witness of Himself ? Nay, there were
three mighty witnesses which had testified, and were testifying, of
Him — John, whom, after a brief admiration, they had rejected ;
Moses, whom they boasted of following, and did not understand ;
God Himself, whom they professed to worship, but had never seen
or known. They themselves had sent to John and heard his testi
mony ; but He needed not the testimony of man, and mentioned it
only for their sakes, because even they for a time had been willing
to exult in that great prophet's God-enkindled light." But he had
far loftier witness than that of John — the witness of a miraculous
power, exerted not as prophets had exerted it, in the name of God,
but in His own name, because His Father had given such power into
His hand. That Father they knew not : His light they had aban
doned for the darkness; His word for their own falsehoods and
ignorances ; and they were rejecting Him whom He had sent. But
there was a third testimony. If they knew nothing of the Father,
they at least knew or thought they knew, the Scriptures ; the Scrip
tures were in their hands ; they had counted the very letters of them ;
yet they were rejecting Him of whom the Scriptures testified. Was
it not clear that they — the righteous, the pious, the scrupulous, the
separatists, the priests, the religious leaders of their nation — yet had
not the love of God in them, if they thus rejected His prophet, His
word, His works, His Son ?
And what was the fibre of bitterness within them which produced
all this bitter fruit ? Was it not pride ? How could they believe,
who sought honor of one another, and not the honor that cometh of
God only? Hence it was that they rejected One who came in His
Father's name, while they had been, and should be, the ready dupes
and the miserable victims of every false Messiah, of every Judas, and
1 The distinction between oi rd dyaBd itoiifdavrsi (the doers of those good
deeds which cannot die) and oi rd cpavXa itpdkavrEi (the slaves and victims
of all that is delusive and transitory) is probably intentional.
2 John v. 35 (cf. Matt. v. 15; Luke xii. 35). He was 6 Xvxvoi 6 xaiofisvoi
xai cpaivmv — the Lamp not the Light — being enkindled by Another, and so
shining. " He is only as the light of the candle, foj whose rays, indeed, men are
grateful ; but which is pale, flickering, transitory, compared with the glories of
the Eternalflame from which itself is kindled" (Lightfoot, On Revision, p. 118).
Christ is the Light from whom all lamps are kindled. " Then stood up Elias the
prophet, like fire, and his word burned as a lamp " (Ecclus. xlviii. 1). " Lychnus
orto soli non foenerat lucem"232 ^Bengel). Their "exultation" in the Baptist's
teaching had been very shallow — " they heard, but did not " (Ezek. xxxiii. 32V

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 293
Theudas, and Bar-Cochebas — and, in Jewish history, there were
more than sixty such — who came in his own name.
And yet He would not accuse them to the Father ; they had an
other accuser, even Moses, in whom they trusted. Yes, Moses, in
whose lightest word they professed to trust — over the most trivial
precept of whose law they had piled their mountain loads of tradition
and commentary — even him they were disbelieving and disobeying.
Had they believed Moses, they would have believed Him who spoke
to them, for Moses wrote of Him ; but if they thus rejected 'the true
meaning of the written words (ypdixjiasiv) which they professed to
adore and love, how could they believe the spoken words (pr/jxaffiv)
to which they were listening with rage and hate ? '
We know with what deadly exasperation these high utterances were
received. Never before had the Christ spoken so plainly. It seemed
as though in Galilee He had wished the truth respecting Him to rise
like a gradual and glorious dawn upon the souls and understandings
of those who heard His teaching and watched His works ; but as
though at Jerusalem — where His ministry was briefer, and His fol
lowers fewer, and His opponents stronger, and His mighty works
more rare — He had determined to leave the leaders and rulers of the
people without excuse, by revealing at once to their astonished ears
the nature of His being. More distinctly than this He could not
have spoken. They had summoned Him before them to explain His
breach of the Sabbath ; so far from excusing the act itself, as He
sometimes did in Galilee, by showing that the higher and moral law
of love supersedes and annihilates the lower law of mere literal and
ceremonial obedience — instead of showing that He had but acted in
the spirit in which the greatest of saints had acted before Him, and
the greatest of prophets taught — He sets Himself wholly above the
Sabbath, as its Lord, nay, even as the Son and Interpreter of Him
who had made the Sabbath, and who in all the mighty course of
Nature and of Providence was continuing to work thereon.
Here, then, were two deadly charges ready at hand against this
Prophet of Nazareth : He was a breaker of their Sabbath ; He was a
blasphemer of their God. The first crime was sufficient cause for
1 " The Law," says St. Paul, " was our tutor (itaiSayaoydi) to lead us unto
Christ," i. e. into spiritual manhood ; into the maturity of the Christian life. (Dr.
Lightfoot, on Gal. iii. 24, shows that the ordinary explanation of this text— how
ever beautiful — is untenable.) Cf. John i. 46, "We have found Him of whom.
Moses in the Law and the Prophets did write."

294 mE LIFE OF CHRIST.
opposition and persecution ; the second an ample justification of per
sistent ' and active endeavors to bring about His death.
But at present they could do nothing ; they could only rage in
impotent indignation ; they could only gnash with their teeth, and
melt away. Whatever may have been the cause, as yet they dared
not act. A power greater than then own restrained them. The
hour of their triumph was not yet come ; only, from this moment,
there went forth against Him from the hearts of those Priests and
Rabbis and Pharisees the inexorable irrevocable sentence of violent
death. And under such circumstances it was useless, and worse than use
less, for Him to remain in Judaea, where every day was a day of
peril from these angry and powerful conspirators. He could no
longer remain in Jerusalem for the approaching Passover, but must
return to Galilee ; but He returned with a clear vision of the fatal
end, with full knowledge that the hours of fight in which He could
still work were already fading into the dusk, and that the rest of His
work would be accomplished with the secret sense that death was
hanging over His devoted head.
1 idiGoxov — ill,rfrovv ditoxreivai (John v. 16, 18).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 295

CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE MUKDER OF JOHN THE BAPTIST.
" It is great sin to swear unto a sin ;
But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
Who can be bound by any solemn vow
To do a murderous deed . . .1"
Shakespeare, 2 Henry VI. v. 2.
It must have been with His human heart full of foreboding sad
ness that the Saviour returned to Galilee. In His own obscure
Nazareth He had before been violently rejected; He had now been
rejected no less decisively at Jerusalem by the leading authorities of
His own nation. He was returning to an atmosphere already dark
ened by the storm-clouds of gathering opposition; and He had
scarcely returned when upon" that atmosphere, fike the first note of a
death-knell tolling ruin, there broke the intelligence of a dreadful
martyrdom. The heaven-enkindled and shining lamp had suddenly
been quenched in blood. The great Forerunner — He who was
greatest of those born of women — the Prophet, and more than a
prophet, had been foully murdered.
Herod Antipas, to whom, on the death of Herod the Great, had
fallen the tetrarchy of Galilee, was about as weak and miserable a
prince as ever disgraced the throne of an afflicted country. Cruel,
crafty, and voluptuous like his father, he was also, unlike him, weak
in war and vacillating in peace. In him, as in so many characters
which stand conspicuous on the stage of history, infidelity and super
stition went hand in hand. But the morbid terrors of a guilty con
science did not save him from the criminal extravagances of a violent
will. He was a man in whom were mingled the worst features of
the Roman, the Oriental, and the Greek.
It was the policy of the numerous princelings who owed their very
existence to Roman intervention, to pay frequent visits of ceremony
to the Emporor at Rome. During one of these visits, possibly to
condole with Tiberius on the death of his son Drusus, or his mother
Livia, Antipas had been, while at Rome, the guest of his brother
Herod Philip — not the tetrarch of that name, but a son of Herod
the Great and Mariamne, daughter of Simon the Boethusian, who,

296 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
having been disinherited by his father, was fiving at Rome as a pri
vate person.1 Here he became entangled by the snares of Herodias,
his brother Philip's wife ; and he repaid the hospitality he had
received by carrying her off. Everything combined to make the act as
detestable as it was ungrateful and treacherous. The Herods carried
intermarriage to an extent which only prevailed in the worst and most
dissolute of the Oriental and post-Macedonian dynasties. Herodias
being the daughter of Aristobulus, was not only the sister-in-law, but
also the niece of Antipas ; " she had already borne to her husband a
daughter, who was now grown up. Antipas had himself long been
married to the daughter of Aretas, or Hareth, Emir of Arabia, and
neither he nor Herodias were young enough to plead even the poor
excuse of youthful passion. The sole temptation on his side was an
impotent sensuality ; on hers an extravagant ambition. She preferred
a marriage doubly adulterous and doubly incestuous to a life spent
with the only Herod who could not boast even the fraction of a vice
regal throne. Antipas promised on his return from Rome to make
her his wife, and she exacted from him a pledge that he would divorce
his innocent consort, the daughter of the Arabian prince.
But " our pleasant vices," it has well been said, " are made the
instruments to punish us;" and from this moment began for Herod
Antipas a series of annoyances and misfortunes, which only culmi
nated in his death years afterwards in discrowned royalty and unpitied
exile. Herodias became from the first the evil genius of his house.
The people were scandalized and outraged. Family dissensions were
embittered. The Arabian princess, without waiting to be divorced,
indignantly fled, 'first to the border castle of Machaems, and then to
the rocky fastnesses of her father Hareth at Petra. He, in his just
indignation, broke off all amicable relations with his quondam son-in-
law, and subsequently declared war against him, in which he avenged
himself by the infliction of a severe and ruinous defeat.
Nor was this all. Sin was punished with sin, and the adulterous
1 A small fragment of the Stemma Herodum will make these relationships
more clear. Herod the Great.
( =Mariamne, =Malthace = CIeopatra. =Mariamne, )
d. of Simon. (a Samaritan). | d. of Hyr 'anus.
I I Philip, ]
Herod " Philip " | j Tetr. of Itursea. Aristobulus.
= Herpdias. Herod Antipas. Archelaus. =Salome.  \__
I =d. of Aretas. |
balome. = Herodias. Herodias. Herod Agrippa I.
2 Even the Romans regarded such unions with horror ; and never got over the
disgust which the Emperor Claudius caused them by marrying his niece Agrip-
pina ; but they were almost the rule in the Herodian family.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 297
union had to be cemented with a prophet's blood. In the gay and
gilded halls of any one of those sumptuous palaces which the Herods
delighted to build, the dissolnte tyrant may have succeeded perhaps
in shutting out the deep murmur of his subjects' indignation ; but
there was one voice which reached him, and agitated his conscience,
and would not be silenced. It was the voice of the great Baptist.
How Herod had been thrown first into connection with him we do
not know, but it was probably after he had seized possession of his
person on the political plea that his teaching, and the -crowds who
flocked to him, tended to endanger the public safety.1 Among other
features in the character of Herod was a certain superstitious curiosity
which led him to hanker after and tamper with the truths of the
religion which his daily life so flagrantly violated. He summoned
John to his presence. Like a new Elijah before another Ahab —
clothed in his desert raiment, the hairy cloak and the leathern girdle
— the stem and noble eremite stood fearless before the incestuous
king. His words — the simple words of truth and justice — the calm
reasonings about righteousness, temperance, and the judgment to
come — fell like flakes of fire on that hard and icy conscience.
Herod, alarmed perhaps by the fulfilment of the old curse of the
Mosaic law in the childlessness of his union," listened with some dim
and- feeble hope of future amendment. He even did many things
gladly because of John. But there was one thing which he would
not do — perhaps persuaded himself that he could not do — and that
was, give up the guilty love which mastered him, or dismiss the
haughty imperious woman who ruled his life after ruining his peace.
" It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother's wife," was the blunt
declaration of the dauntless Prophet ; and though time after time he
might be led over those splendid floors, pale and wasted with impris
onment and disappointed hope, yet, though he well knew that it
kindled against him an implacable enmity and doomed him to a fresh
remand to his solitary cell, he never hesitated to face the flushed and
angry Herod with that great Non licet™ Nor did he spare his stern
judgment on all the other crimes and follies of Herod's life.3 Other
men — even men otherwise great and good — have had very smooth
words for the sins of princes ; but in the fiery soul of the Baptist,
strengthened into noblest exercise by the long asceticism of the wil-
1 So Josephus, Antt. xviii. 5, § 2. In this wayit is easy to reconcile his account
with those of the Evangelists.
2 Lev. xx. 21. We know how the same fact weighed on the mind of Henry
VIII. 3 Luke iii. 19. 38

298 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
derness, there was no dread of human royalty and no compromise
with exalted sin. And when courage and holiness and purity thus
stood to rebuke the lustful meanness of a servile and corrupted soul,
can we wonder if even among his glittering courtiers and reckless
men-at-arms the king cowered conscience-stricken before the fettered
prisoner?1 But John knew how little trust can be placed in a soul
that has been eaten away by a besetting sin ; and since He to whom
he had borne witness beyond Jordan wrought no miracle of power
for his deliverance, it is not probable that he looked for any passage
out of his dungeon in the Black Fortress," save through the grave and
gate of death.
Hitherto, indeed, the timidity or the scruples of Herod Antipas
had afforded to John — so far as his mere life was concerned — a
precarious protection from the concentrated venom of an adulteress's
hate.3 But at last what she had failed to gain by passionate influence
she succeeded in gaining by subtle fraud. She knew well that even
from his prison the voice of John might be more powerful than all
the influences of her fading beauty, and might succeed at last in tear
ing from her forehead that guilty crown. But she watched her
opportunity, and was not long in gaining her end.4
The Herodian princes, imitating the luxurious example of their
great prototypes, the Roman emperors, were fond of magnificent
banquets and splendid anniversaries. Among others they had
adopted the heathen fashion of birthday celebrations,6 and Antipas on
his birthday — apparently either at Machaerus or at a neighboring
palace called Julias — prepared a banquet for his courtiers, and gen
erals, and Galilaean nobles. The wealth of the Herods, the expen-

1 History has not seldom Been similar scenes repeated. Compare the instances
of Theodosius ana St. Ambrose, of Attila and Leo, of Thierry and St. Columban,
of Henry II. and St. Thomas a Becket, of Henry IV. of Germany and Gregory
VII., &c.
2 So the Rabbis called MachaBrus. (Sepp.)
3 "But Herodias was bitterly vehement against him(EvEixEv avtao ; cf. Luke
xi. 53), and had a settled wish to kill him ; but she was not able. For Herod was
afraid of John, knowing him to be a just and holy man, and kept him safe, and on
hearing him used to do many things, and used to listen to him gladly " (Mark vi
19, 20).
4 The yevopevr/i ijpe'pai svxaipov 234 of Mark vi. 21 refers to the pre-arranged
machinations of this Herodian Jezebel.
6 Gen. xl. 20 ; Herod, i. 153 ; Pers. Sat. v. 180. There can be little doubt that
the unclassical yeve'dia means a birthday celebration (cf. Jos. Antt. xii. 4, § 7).
Wieseler labors with great ingenuity and learning to make it mean " accession-
festival " (which was also kept by the Herods, id. ib., xv. 11, § 6), but fails after
all to adduce any other instance of the word used in this sense.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 299
sive architecture of their numerous palaces, their universal tendency
to extravagant display, make it certain that nothing would be want
ing to such a banquet which wealth or royalty could procure ; and
there is enough to show that it was on the model of those
" Sumptuous gluttonies and gorgeous feasts
On citron table or Atlantic stone,"
which accorded with the depraved fashion of the Empire, and mingled
Roman gourmandize with Ionic sensuality. But Herodias had
craftily provided the king with an unexpected and exciting pleasure,
the spectacle of which would be sure to enrapture such guests as his.
Dancers and dancing-women were at that time in great request.1 The
passion for witnessing these too often indecent and degrading repre
sentations had naturally made its way into the Sadducean and semi-
pagan court of these usurping Edomites, and Herod the Great had
built in his palace a theatre for the Thymelici." A luxurious feast of
the period was not regarded as complete unless it closed with some
gross pantomimic representation ; and doubtless Herod had adopted
the evil fashion of his day. But he had not anticipated for his guests
the rare luxury of seeing a princess — his own niece, a granddaughter
of Herod the Great, and of Mariamne, a descendant, therefore, of
Simon the High Priest, and the great line of Maccabaean princes —
a princess who afterwards became the wife of a tetrarch, and the
mother of a king b — honoring them by degrading herself into a scenic
dancer. And yet when the banquet was over, when the guests were
full of meat and flushed with wine, Salome herself, the daughter of
Herodias, then in the prime of her young and lustrous beauty, exe
cuted, as it would now be expressed, a pas seul "in the midst of" 4
those dissolute and haK-intoxicated revellers. " She came in and
danced, and pleased Herod, and them that sat at meat with him."
1 Mnestor, Paris, &c. Cf. Jos. Antt. xii. 4, § 6.
2 See Jos. Antt. xv. 8, § 1 ; xix. 7, § 5.
J She first married her uncle Philip, tetrarch of Itursea, then her cousin Aristo
bulus, King of Chalcis, by whom she became mother of three sons. The Hero
dian princesses were famed for their beauty.
4 Matt. xiv. 6. In Mark vi. 22, K, B, D, L read avrov ; but even if this were
the true reading, the whole context would be sufficient to show that Keim is
wrong (Gesch. Jesu, ii. 512) in charging St. Mark with the error of supposing that
Salome was his actual daughter. As for the dance, Salome would but be imitat
ing the ill-trained maidens of her own day —
" Motus doceri gaudet Ionicos
Matura virgo, et flngltur artibus
Jam nunc et incestos amores
De tenero meditatur ungui." !3s (Hor. Od. iii. 6, 21.)

500 TI[E LIFE OF CHRIST.
And he, like another Xerxes,1 in the delirium of his drunken ap
proval, swore to this degraded girl in the presence of his guests
that he. would give her anything for which she asked, even to the
half of his kingdom."
The girl flew to her mother, and said, "What shall I ask?" It
was exactly what Herodias expected, and she might have asked for
robes, or jewels, or palaces, or whatever such a woman loves ; but to
a mind like hers revenge was sweeter than wealth or pride, and we
may imagine with what fierce malice she hissed out the unhesitating
answer, "The head of John the Baptizer." And coming in before
the king immediately with haste — (what a touch is that ! and how
apt a pupil did the wicked mother find in her wicked daughter) —
Salome exclaimed, "My wish is that you give me here,3 immediately,
on a dish, the head of John the Baptist." Her indecent haste, her
hideous petition, show that she shared the furies of her race. Did
she think that in that infamous period, and among those infamous
guests, her petition would be received with a burst of laughter? Did
she hope to kindle their merriment to a still higher pitch by the sense
of the delightful wickedness * involved in a young and beautiful girl,
asking — nay, imperiously demanding — that then and there, on one
of the golden dishes which graced the board, should be given into
her own hands the gory head of the Prophet whose words had made
a thousand bold hearts quail ?
If so, she was disappointed. The tetrarch, at any rate, was plunged
1 Esth. v. 3 ; Herod, ix. 109. Cf. Suet. Caius, 32.
2 There is a remarkable parallel to this narrative in the superb banquet given
by Agrippa I. to the Emperor Caius, with the design of winning a favor. Caius
showed his sense of the compliment paid to him by offering Agrippa anything
which he liked to ask, and Agrippa used his opportunity nobly and unselfishly to
dissuade Caius from the mad attempt to set up his statue in the Temple (Jos.
Antt. xviii. 8, § 7). Caius says, to Si itav, oxsp doi poitTjv dv Ttpo6BEir) rov
EvSaipovoi, SiaxovrjdErai doi itpoBvpia te xai tdxvi.™ He expected
Agrippa to ask for cities or lands, 6 Si xaiitEp rd itdvra xapadxsvaddpsv oi
icp> oli firr/tiE ovx icpocvipov rr/v Siavoiav.23'1 Finally Caius grants the
request, dp. a ry BspaitEia rov 'Aypiitita ivEiXrjppivoi, xai dpa dnpeitii
vitoXappdvGOV liti TodmvSE paprvpaov ipsvSrii ysve'dBai, x. r. X.ns The
parallels seem almost too close to be purely accidental.
' goSe (Matt. xiv. 8); tS,avrfji (Mark vi. 25). We might suppose that some
scorn was intended by rov fiaTtTiZ,ovroi, "the man who baptizes," in verse 24,
were it not that this seems to be the general form in St. Mark (i. 4 ; vi. 14).
* " Quasi volesse crescere 1' allegrezza di quel convito con un gran delitto " 232
(Capecellatro, La Vita di Gesu, ii. 11). Volkmar thinks that she was a mere
child, the unconscious instrument in her mother's hands ; and that the EvBvi
p.zrd ditovSrji**0 of Mark vi. 25 implies mere ignorant girlish glee.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 3()J
into grief by her request ; ' it more than did way with the pleasure
of her disgraceful dance ; it was a bitter termination of his birthday
feast. Fear, policy, remorse, superstition, even whatever poor spark
of better feeling remained unquenched under the dense white ashes
of a hean, consumed by evil passions, all made him shrink in disgust
from this sudden execution. He must have felt that he had been
egregiously duped out of his own will by the cunning stratagem of
his unrelenting paramour. H a single touch of manliness had been
left in him he would have repudiated the request as one which did
not fall either under the letter or the spirit of his oath, since the life
of one cannot be made the gift to another ; or he would have boldly
declared at once, that if such was her choice, his oath was more hon
ored by being broken than by being kept. But a despicable pride
and fear of man prevailed over his better impulses. More afraid of
the criticisms of his guests than of the future torment of such con
science as was left him, he immediately sent an executioner to the
prison, which in all probability was not far from the banqueting hall ;
and so at the bidding of a dissolute coward, and to please the loathly
fancies of a shameless girl, the axe fell, and the head of the noblest
of the prophets was shorn away.
In darkness and in secrecy the scene was enacted, and if any saw
it their lips were sealed ; but the executioner emerged into the light
carrying by the hair that noble head, and then and there, in all the
ghastliness of recent death, it was placed upon a dish from the royal
table. The young dancing girl received it," and now frightful as a
Megaera, carried the hideous burden to her mother. Let us hope that
the awful spectacle haunted the souls of both thenceforth till death.
What became of that ghastly relic we do not know. Tradition tells
us that Herodias ordered the headless trunk 3 to be flung out over the
1 St. Mark (vi. 26) uses the strong expression, itspiXvitoi ysvduevoi.
2 This bad age produced more than one parallel to such awful and sanguinary
nonchalance on the part of women nobly born. Fulvia again and again ran a
golden needle through the tongue of Cicero's dissevered head ; and Agrippina
similarly outraged the head of her rival, Lollia Paulina (Dio Cass, xlvii. 9 ; Ix. 33).
It is sad to know that decapitation was regarded by the Jews with very special
horror (Sanhedr. 7, 3). (Wetstein, ad loc)
3 itTGopa (Mark vi. 29). The tradition is mentioned by S. Jerome (c. Rufflnum
iii. 42) and Nicephorus (i. 19). For the traditional death of " the dancing daugh
ter of Herodias," by falling through, and having her head cut off by the ice, see
Niceph. i. 20. He reports that " passing over a frozen lake, the ice broke, and she
fell up to the neck in water, and her head was parted from her body by the vio
lence of the fragments shaken by the water and her own fall, and so perished,
God having fitted a judgment to the analogy and representment of her sin" (Jer.
Taylor, Life of Christ, II. 10). But history loses sight of Salome in the court of

302 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
battlements for dogs and vultures to devour. On her, at any rate,
swift vengeance fell.
The disciples of John — perhaps Manaen the Essene, the foster-
brother of Herod Antipas, may have been among them — took up
the corpse and buried it. Their next care was to go and tell Jesus,
some of them, it may be, with sore and bitter hearts, that His friend
and Forerunner — the first who had borne witness to Him, and over
whom He had Himself pronounced so great an eulogy — was dead.
And about the same time His Apostles also returned from their
mission, and told Him all that they had done and taught. They had
preached repentance ; they had cast out devils ; they had anointed
the sick with oil and healed them." But the record of their ministry
is very brief, and not very joyous. In spite of partial successes, it
seemed as if their untried faith had as yet proved inadequate for the
high task imposed on them.
And very shortly afterwards another piece of intelligence reached
Jesus ; it was that the murderous tetrarch was inquiring about Him ;
wished to see Him ; perhaps would send and demand His presence
when he returned to his new palace, the Golden House of his new
capital at Tiberias. For the mission of the Twelve had tended more
than ever to spread a rumor of Him among the people,3 and specula
tion respecting Him was rife. All admitted that He had some high
claim to attention. Some thought that He was Elijah, some Jere
miah, others one of the Prophets ; but Herod had the most singular
solution of the problem. It is said that when Theodoric had ordered
the murder of Symmachus, he was haunted and finally maddened by
the phantom of the old man's distorted features glaring at him from
a dish on the table ; nor can it have been otherwise with Herod
Antipas. Into his banquet hall had been brought the head of one
whom, in the depth of his inmost being, he felt to have been holy
and just ; and he had seen, with the solemn agony of death still rest
ing on them, the stern features on which he had often gazed with
awe. Did no reproach issue from those dead lips yet louder and
more terrible than they had spoken in life ? were the accents which
had uttered, " It is not lawful for thee to have her," frozen into

her second husband, Aristobulus (Jos. Antt. xviii. 5, § ~4), and since God's judg
ments are not always displayed in this life, she may, for all we really know, have
died, like Lucrezia Borgia, in the odor of sanctity at her little court.
1 Perhaps this Manaen (see Acts xiii. 1 ; Jos. Antt. xv. 10, § 5) was a son of the
Manaen who foretold to Herod the Great his future dignity.
2 Cf. James v. 14.
3 Mark vi 14.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 303
silence, or did they seem to issue with supernatural energy from the
mute ghastliness of death ? H we mistake not, that dissevered head
was rarely thenceforth absent from Herod's haunted imagination from
that day forward till he lay upon his dying bed. And now, when
but a brief time afterwards, he heard of the fame of another
Prophet — of a Prophet transcendently mightier, and one who wrought
miracles, which John had never done — his guilty conscience shivered
with superstitious dread, and to his intimates ' he began to whisper
with horror, " This is John the Baptist whom I beheaded : he is
risen from the dead, and therefore these mighty works are wrought
by him." " Had John sprung to fife again thus suddenly to inflict a
signal vengeance ? would he come to the strong towers of Machaerus
at the head of a multitude in wild revolt ? or glide through the gilded
halls of Julias or Tiberias, terrible, at midnight, with ghostly tread ?
" Hast thou found me, O mine enemy ? "
As the imperious and violent temper of Herodias was the constant
scourge of her husband's peace, so her mad ambition was subsequently
the direct cause of his ruin. When the Emperor Caius (Caligula)
began to heap favors on Herod Agrippa I., Herodias, sick with envy
and discontent, urged Antipas to sail with her to Rome and procure
a share of the distinction which had thus been given to her brother.
Above all, she was anxious that, her husband should obtain the title
of king,3 instead of continuing content with the humbler one of
tetrarch. In vain did the timid and ease-loving Antipas point out
to her the danger to which he might be exposed by such a request.
She made his life so bitter to him by her importunity that, against
his better judgment, he was forced to yield. The event justified his
worst misgivings. No love reigned between the numerous uncles
and nephews and half-brothers in the tangled family of Herod, and
either out of policy or jealousy Agrippa not only discountenanced
the schemes of his sister and uncle — though they had helped him in
1 Toii itaidiv avrov (Matt. xiv. 2). The Hebrew DHDy means more than
" servants," and hence is rendered by itaii and cpiXoi in the LXX., and in Sym-
machus (1 Sam. xviii. 22 ; Esth. ii. 18) as well as by SovXoi (Kuinoel, ad Cor).
This terrified surmise of the palace may have been mentioned by Chuza or by
Manaen. 2 Matt. xiv. 2 ; Mark vi. 16. That such thoughts must have been very rife is
shown by the fact that when the army of Herod Antipas was disgracefully routed
by Aretas, the people looked on it as a retribution for the murder of John (Jos.
Antt. xviii. 5, §§ V, 2).
3 He is called jiadiXevi in Mark vi. 14 (and the courtesy title was common
enough in the provinces), but rErpdpxyi more accurately in Matt.' xiv. 1 ; Luke
ix. 7.

304 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
his own misfortunes — but actually sent his freedman Fortunatus to
Rome to accuse Antipas of treasonable designs. The tetrarch failed
to clear himself of the charge, and in A. D. 39 was banished to Lug-
dunum — probably St. Bertrand de Comminges, in Gaul, not far
from the Spanish frontier.1 Herodias, either from choice or necessity
or despair, accompanied his exile, and here they both died in obscurity
and dishonor. Salome, the dancer — the Lucrezia Borgia. of the
Herodian house — disappears henceforth from history. Tradition or
legend alone informs us that she met with an early, violent, and
hideous death.
1 " Thus," says Josephus (Antt. xviii. 7, § 2), " did God punish Herodias for her
envy at her brother, and Herod for lending an ear to empty feminine talk." He
adds that when Caius learnt that Herodias was a sister of Agrippa, he would have
shown her some favor ; but the passion with which she rejected it made him ban
ish her also.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 305

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE FEEDING- OF THE FIVE THOUSAND, AND WALKING ON THE SEA.
" Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are
not known." — Ps. lxxvii. 19.
The Feeding of the Five Thousand is one of the few miracles
during the ministry of Christ which are narrated to us by all four of
the Evangelists ; ' and as it is placed by St. John after the nameless
festival and just before a Passover, and by the Synoptists in imme
diate connection with the return of the Twelve and the execution of
the Baptist, we can hardly err in introducing it at this point of our
narrative. The novel journeyings of the Apostles, the agitation of His own
recent conflicts, the burden of that dread intelligence which had just
reached Him, the constant pressure of a fluctuating multitude which
absorbed all their time, once more rendered it necessary that the little
1 Matt xiv. 13—33 ; Mark vi. 30—52 ; Luke ix. 10—17 ; John vi. 1—21. The
reader will find every incident of the text either directly stated or clearly implied
in one or other of these quadruple narratives. In every important particular they
show the most absolute unanimity ; the trifling divergences, which a captious and
ungenerous criticism delights to exaggerate into glaring discrepancies, are per
fectly reconcilable without any violent hypothesis, and are all more or less
accounted for in the story as here given. " The notion that genuine history is
characterized by an exact and minute attention to details," says a recent writer,
" is wholly modern. It may be doubted whether, since no narrative can give all
particulars, this method of historical composition does not, with all the affectation
of reality, present a more unreal presentation of the past, than the artless tale of
an interested but uncritical observer — whether, in short, syncretic history is not
apt to be exceedingly untrustworthy or deceptive. The more accurately two per
sons relate their impressions of the same great events, the wider is sure to be the
discrepancy between them. No two men see facts in exactly the same light, or
direct their attention to exactly the same circumstances." (Paul of Tarsus, p. 154).
He adds that, exact and patient as Thucydides is, we should have possessed two
widely differing stories of the Peloponuesian war if another observer equally
critical had devoted his attention to the same events. These slight divergencies
of the Gospel serve, however, to establish in the most satisfactory manner the
essential independence of the fourfold testimonies. They may tell against exag
gerated, superstitious, and anti-scriptural itheories of Inspiration ; but they are
demonstrably compatible with the most perfect truthfulness and honesty..
39

306 TBE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
company should recover the tone and bloom of their spirits by a brief
period of rest and solitude. " Come ye yourselves," He said, " apart
into a desert place, and rest a while."
At the north-eastern corner of the Lake, a little beyond the point
where the Jordan enters it, was a second Bethsaida, or " Fish-house," '
once, fike its western namesake, a small village, but recently enlarged
and beautified by Phifip, tetrarch of Itursea, and called, for the sake
of distinction, Bethsaida Julias." The second name had been given
it in honor of Julia, the beautiful but infamous daughter of the
Emperor Augustus. These half-heathen Herodian cities, with their
imitative Greek architecture and adulatory Roman names, seem to
have repelled rather than attracted the feet of Christ ; and though
much of His work was accomplished in the neighborhood of consider
able cities, we know of no city except Jerusalem in which He ever
taught. But to the south of Bethsaida Julias was the green and
narrow plain of El Batihah, which, fike the hills that close it round,
was uninhabited then as now. Hitherward the little vessel steered
its course, with its freight of weary and saddened hearts which sought
repose. But private as the departure had been, it had not passed
unobserved, and did not remain unknown.3 It is but six miles by
sea from Capernaum to the retired and desolate shore which was
their destination. The little vessel, evidently retarded by unfavora
ble winds, made its way slowly at no great distance from the shore,
and by the time it reached its destination, the object which their
Master's kindness had desired for His Apostles was completely
frustrated. Some of the multitude had already outrun the vessel,
and were thronging about the landing-place when the prow touched
the pebbly shore; while in the distance were seen the thronging
groups of Passover pilgrims, who were attracted out of their course
by the increasing celebrity of this Unknown Prophet.4 Jesus was
touched with compassion for them, because they were as sheep not
having a shepherd. We may conjecture from St. John that on reach
ing the land He and His disciples climbed the hill-side, and there
waited a short time till the whole multitude had assembled. Then

1 nY>x ma. The same root is found in the name Sidon.
2 Jos. Antt. xviii. 2, § % ; B. J. iii. 10, § 7 ; Plin. Hist. Nat. v. 15, " In lacum se
fundit, quern plures Genezaram vocant, xvi. mill. pass, longitudinis, vi. mill. lat.
amoenis circumseptum oppidis, ab oriente, Juliade," 241 &c.
3 Mark vi. 33, eiSov avrovi vitdyovrai ; Luke ix. 11, yvovrsi; Matt xiv
13, dxovdavrsi.
4 Mark vi. 33 ; John vi. 2, 4.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 307
descending among them He taught them many things, preaching to
them of the kingdom of heaven, and healing their sick.1
The day wore on ; already the sun was sinking towards the western
hills," yet still the multitude lingered, charmed by that healing voice
and by those holy words. The evening would soon come, and after
the brief Oriental twilight, the wandering crowd, who in their excite
ment had neglected even the necessities of life, would find themselves
in the darkness, hungry and afar from every human habitation. The
disciples began to be anxious lest the day should end in some unhappy
catastrophe, which would give a fresh handle to the already embittered
enemies of their Lord. But His compassion had already forestalled
their considerate anxiety, and had suggested the difficulty to the mind
of Philip.3 A little consultation took place. To buy even a mouth
ful apiece for such a multitude would require at least two hundred
denarii (more than £7) ; and even supposing that they possessed such
a sum in their common purse, there was now neither time nor oppor
tunity to make the necessary purchases. Andrew hereupon men
tioned that there was a little boy there who had five barley-loaves
and two small fishes, but he" only said it in a despairing way, and, as
it were, to show the utter helplessness of the only suggestion which
occurred to him.4
" Make the men sit down," was the brief reply.

1 " The sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel," says Mr. Bruce, " is full of marvels ;
it tells of a, great miracle, a great enthusiasm, a great storm, a great sermon, a
great, apostasy, and great trial of faith and fidelity endured by the Twelve"
(Training of the Twelve, p. 120).
2 The 6i/>ia of Matt. xiv. 15 means the SeiXtj oipia or afternoon; the oibia of
verse 23 is the second or later evening, after six o'clock.
3 Why He should have tested the faith of Philip in particular is not mentioned ;
it is simply one of the unexplained touches which always occur in the narratives
of witnesses familiar with their subject. Prof. Blunt, in his interesting Unde
signed Coincidences, suggests that it was because " Philip was of Bethsaida ; " this
can have nothing to do with it, for Philip's native village (now Ain et-T&bijah)
was at the opposite side of the Lake. Roland's discovery (Palaest., p. 564) that
there were two Bethsaidas (one, Bethsaida Julias, at the north end of the Lake,
and the other a fishing village on its western side) solves all the difficulties
of Luke ix. 10 (where, however, the Cod. Sinaiticus, and the Nitrian recension of
the Syriac edited by Cureton, omit the allusion to Bethsaida), Mark vi. 45, &c.
(See Robinson, Bibl. Researches, ii. 413 ; Stanley, Sin. and Pal., p. 382, <fcc.)
4 If this itaiSdpiov (John vi. 9) was, as may be inferred from Mark vi. 38, in
attendance upon the Apostles, it is very likely that he too, like Philip and Andrew,
was a native of the western Bethsaida ; and then perhaps our Lord's question may
have been meant to see whether the simple-hearted Philip had faith enough
to mention this possible resource. The Sv is probably spurious ; it is not found
in {<, B, D, L.

308 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Wondering and expectant, the Apostles bade the multitude recline.
as for a meal, on the rich green grass which in that pleasant spring
time clothed the hill-sides. They arranged them in companies of
fifty and a hundred, and as they sat in these orderly groups upon the
grass, the gay red and blue and yellow colors of the clothing which
the poorest Orientals wear, called up in the imagination of St. Peter
a multitude of flower-beds in some well-cultivated garden.1 And then,
standing in the midst of His guests — glad-hearted at the work of
mercy which He intended to perform — Jesus raised His eyes to
heaven, gave thanks," blessed the loaves,3 broke them into pieces, and
began to distribute them 4 to His disciples, and they to the multitude ;
and the two fishes He divided among them all. It was a humble
but a sufficient, and to hungry wayfarers a delicious meal. And
when all were abundantly satisfied, Jesus, not only to show His dis
ciples the extent and reality of what had been done, but also to teach
them the memorable lesson that wastefulness, even of miraculous
power, is wholly alien to the Divine economy, bade them gather up
the fragments that remained, that nothing might be lost. The sym
metrical arrangement of the multitude showed that about five thou
sand men, besides women and children, had been fed,6 and yet twelve
baskets ° were filled with what was over and above to them that had
eaten.

1 dvEitsdav itpadiai itpadiai, " they reclined in parterres " (areolatim), is the
picturesque expression of St. Mark (vi. 40), who here, as throughout his Gospel,
doubtless reflects the impressions of St. Peter. The word itpadiai occurs here
only, but Theophylact's definition of it (ad loe) is exactly that of a parterre (rd
iv roii xriitoii Sidcpopa xoppara iv oii cpvrE'vovrai Sidcpopa . . .
Xdxava). The dvpitodia dvpitodia of the previous verse describes the orderly
social grouping, catervatim. The words are repeated by a Hebraism, which is,
however, in accordance with simple Greek idiom (cf. pvpva pvpia, iEsck. Pers.
981 ; Winer, New Test. Gram., p. 264, sixth edition, E. Tr.). Lightfoot compares
the Hebrew fllTIS!' nVuB1 usea to describe the quincuncial order of vines, and of
pupils in a kerem or " vineyard," i. e. school.
2 John vi. 11, Evxapidr^dai.
3 Luke ix. 16, EvXoXr/dar avrovi.
4 xarExXade . . . xai iSiSov (Mark vi.41). The aorist implies the instan
taneous — the imperfect, the continuous act. The fact is interesting, as giving
us the only glimpse permitted ub of the mode in which the miracle was wrought.
The multiplication of the loaves and fishes evidently took place in the hands of
Christ between the acts of breaking and of distributing the bread.
6 Women and children would not sit down with the men, but sit or stand apart.
Probably in that lonely and distant spot their numbers would not be great,
6 It has been repeatedly noticed that all the Evangelists alike here use xoanvoi
for the common wicker-baskets (ayyeiov itXsxrov, Suid., perhaps corresponding
to the Hebrew salsilldth, Jer. vi. 9) in which these fragments were collected ; and

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 309
The miracle produced a profound impression. It was exactly in
accordance with the current expectation, and the multitude began to
whisper to each other that this must undoubtedly be " that Prophet
which should come into the world ; " the Shiloh of Jacob's blessing ;
the Star and the Sceptre of Balaam's vision ; the Prophet like unto
Moses to whom they were to hearken ; perhaps the Elijah promised
by the dying breath of ancient prophecy ; ' perhaps the Jeremiah of
their tradition, come back to reveal the hiding-place of the Ark, and
the TJrim, and Jhe sacred fire. Jesus marked their undisguised
admiration, and the danger that their enthusiasm might break out by
force, and precipitate His death by open rebellion against the Roman
government in the attempt to make Him a king. He saw too that
His disciples seemed to share this worldly and perilous excitement.
The time was come, therefore, for instant action. By the exercise of
direct authority, He compelled3 His disciples to embark in their
boat, and cross the Lake before Him in the direction of Capernaum
or the western Bethsaida.3 A fittle gentle constraint was necessary,
for they were naturally unwilling to leave Him among the excited
multitude on that lonely shore, and if anything great was going to
happen to Him they felt a right to be present. On the other hand,
it was more easy for Him to dismiss the multitude when they had
the word ditvpiS si, or "rope-baskets," when they speak of the feeding of the
four thousand. If any one thinks it important to ask where the xoqoivoi came
from, the answer is that they were the very commonest possession of Jews, who
constantly used them to prevent their food, &c, from being polluted. " Judaeis,
quorum cophinus f enumque supellex " 242 (Juv., Bat. iii. 14 ; cf. vi. 542). Even in
Palestine, overrun as it was at this period with heathens, such a precaution might
be necessary. There was a Jewish festival named Cophinus (Sidonius, Ep. vii. 6,
quoted by Mr. Mayor on Juv. I. c).
1 Gen. xlix. 10 ; Numb. xxiv. 17 ; Deut. xviii. 15, 18 ; Mai. iv. 5. I adopt the
current Jewish explanations.
2 ijvdyxads (Matthew, Mark). How unintelligible would this word be but for
the fact mentioned by John vi. 15 ; how clear does it become when the fact there
mentioned is before us ; and again how imperfect would be our comprehension
of what took place if we had the narrative of John alone.
3 Compare Mark vi. 45 with John vi. 17. Tell Hum (Capernaum) and Bethsaida
(Ain et-Tfibijah) are so near together that they might make for either as was
most convenient, and indeed, since the landing-place at Bethsaida was the more
convenient of the two, it might be considered as the harbor of Capernaum. On
the other hand, the hypothesis of Thomson and others that there waa only one
Bethsaida (viz., Julias) falls to the ground if we compare Mark vi. 45 (" unto the
other side, towards Bethsaida ") with Luke ix. 10, which shows that they were
already at Bethsaida Julias — except, indeed, on the unlikely and far-fetched
notion (adopted by Wieseler, Chron. Syn. p. 249 ; Lange, Life of Christ, iii. 138)
that their plan was to coast along, touch at Bethsaida Julias, there take up our
Lord, and then proceed to the other Bethsaida.

310 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
seen that His own immediate friends and disciples had been sent
away. So in the gathering dusk He gradually and gently succeeded in
persuading the multitude to leave Him,1 and when all but the most
enthusiastic had streamed away to their homes or caravans, He sud
denly left the rest, and fled from them " to the hill-top alone to pray.
He was conscious that a solemn and awful crisis of His day on earth
was come, and by communing with His Heavenly Father, He would
nerve His soul for the stern work of the morrow, an^i the bitter con
flict of many coming weeks. Once before He had spent in the
mountain solitudes a night of lonely prayer, but then it was before
the choice of His beloved Apostles, and the glad tidings of His
earliest and happiest ministry. Far different were the feelings with
which the Great High Priest now climbed the rocky stairs of that
great mountain altar which in His temple of the night seemed to lift
Him nearer to the stars of God. The murder of His beloved Fore
runner brought home to His soul more nearly the thought of death ;
nor was He deceived by this brief blaze of a falsely-founded popu
larity, which on the next day He meant to quench. The storm which
now began to sweep over the barren hills ; the winds that rushed
howling down the ravines ; the Lake before Him buffeted into tem
pestuous foam ; the little boat which — as the moonlight struggled
through the rifted clouds — He saw tossing beneath Him on the'
laboring waves, were all too sure an emblem of the altered aspects of
His earthly life. But there on the desolate hill-top, in that night of
storm, He could gain strength and peace and happiness unspeakable ;
for there He was alone with God. And so over that figure, bowed
in lonely prayer upon the hills, and over those toilers upon the
troubled Lake, the darkness fell and the great winds blew.3
Hour after hour passed by. It was now the fourth watch of the
night ; 4 the ship had traversed but half of its destined course ; it was
1 Mark vi. 45, ditoXvEi, contrasted with the aorist ditoXvdov in verse 36.
2 That some lingered we infer from John vi. 22. I have adopted the reading
tpevysi in John vi. 15, with X and the Vulgate, instead of dvEXG&pr/dEV. The
narrative gives the impression that the excitement of the multitude, and the
necessity for exertion on the part of Jesus, were greater than is fully told. But
even the received reading, dvexGopr/dsv, involves the same conception. (Cf,
Matt. ii. 12, 22.)
3 John vi. 17, 18, xareXafisv avrovi rj dxoria. (H, D.)
4 Between three and six ; the Jews at this time had mainly given up their own
division of the night into three watches (Judg. vii. 19), and adopted the four
Roman watches between six p. m. and six a. m. They had only rowed twenty-five
furlongs, and the Lake is about forty wide (Jos. B. J. iii. 10, § 7).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 31 1
dark, and the wind was contrary, and the waves boisterous, and they
were distressed with toiling at the oar,1 and above all there was no
one with them now to calm and save, for Jesus was alone upon the
land. Alone upon the land, and they were tossing on the perilous
sea ; but all the while He saw and pitied them, and at last, in their
worst extremity, they saw a gleam in the darkness, and an awful
figure, and a fluttering robe, and One drew near them, treading upon
the ridges of the sea," but seemed as if He meant to pass them by ;
and they cried out in terror at the sight, thinking that it was a phan
tom0 that walked upon the waves. And through the storm and
darkness to them — as so often to us, when, amid the darknesses of
life,- the ocean seems so great, and our little boats so small — there
thrilled that Yoice of peace, which said, " It is I : be not afraid."
That Yoice stilled their terrors, and at once they were eager to
receive Him into the ship ; 4 but Peter's impetuous love — the strong
yearning of him who, in his despairing self-consciousness, had cried
out " Depart from me ! "—now cannot even await His approach, and
he passionately exclaims —
" Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come unto Thee on the water."
" Come ! "
And over the vessel's side into the troubled waves he sprang, and
while his eye was fixed on his Lord, the wind might toss his hair, and
the spray might drench his robes, but all was well ; but when, with
wavering faith, he glanced from Him to the furious waves, and to
the gulfy blackness underneath, then he began to sink,' and in an
accent of despair — how unlike his former confidence! — he faintly
cried, " Lord, save me ! " 6 Nor did Jesus fail. Instantly, with a
1 Mark vi. 48, iSadv avrovi fiadaviZopevovi iv too iXav'veiv — a very
strong expression. Some see a difficulty in John vi. 17, " and Jesus had not come
to them," and indeed it furnishes the chief ground for the suggestion that He had
designed to join them at or near Bethsaida Julias ; but surely it may be merely
proleptic (He had not yet come, as He did immediately afterwards), involving per
haps in the mind of the Evangelist the silent thought that " man's extremity is
God's opportunity." ovitao is indeed the actual reading of N, B, D, L, but even
ovx would be quite in accordance with St. John's manner.
8 Job. ix. 8.
3 Mark vi. 49, cpdvradpa, a mere unsubstantial appearance ; to pi} ov aXrjBii
dXXd dxviiari S45 (Hesych.). Cf . Luke xxiv. 37.
4 John vi. 21, tjBeXov ovv Xafieiv — i. e., they wished to do so, and of course
did. Cf. Be'Xete itoiElv (John viii. 44).
5 How unlike forgery, or falsehood, or myth, is this 1
8 " In this moment of peril," as Archbishop Trench strikingly observes, " his
swimmer's art (John xxi. 7) profits him nothing ; for there is no mingling in this
way of nature and grace " (On the Miracles, p. 299). Cf. Ps. xciv. 18.

312 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
smile of pity, He stretched out His hand, and grasped the hand of
His drowning disciple, with the gentle rebuke, " 0 thou of little
faith, why didst thou doubt ? " And so, his love satisfied, but his
over-confidence rebuked, they climbed — the Lord and His abashed
Apostle — into the boat; and the wind lulled, and amid the ripple of •
waves upon a moonlit shore, they were at the haven where they
would be; and all — the crew as well as His disciples — were filled
with deeper and deeper amazement, and some of them, addressing
Him by a title which Nathanael alone had applied to Him before,
exclaimed, " Truly Thou art the Son of God."
Let us pause a moment longer over this wonderful narrative, per
haps of all others the most difficult for our feeble faith to believe or
understand. Some have tried in various methods to explain away
its miraculous character ; they have labored to show that inl tr/v
daXaffffav * may mean no more than that Jesus walked along the
shore parallel to the vessel ; or even that, in the darkness, the Apos
tles may have thought at first that He was, or had been, walking
upon the sea. Such subterfuges are idle and superfluous. If any
man find himself unable to believe in miracles — if he even think
it wrong to try and acquire the faith which accepts them — then let
him be thoroughly convinced in his own mind, and cling honestly to
the truth as he conceives it. It is not for us, or for any man, to judge
another: to his own Master he standeth or falleth. But let him
not attempt to foist such disbelief into the plain narrative of the
Evangelists. That they intended to describe an amazing miracle is
indisputable to any one who carefully reads their words ; and, as I
have said before, if, believing in God, we believe in a Divine Provi
dence over the fives of men — and, believing in that Divine Provi
dence, believe in the miraculous, and believing in the miraculous,
accept as truth the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ — and,
believing that resurrection, believe that He was indeed the Son of
God — then, however deeply we may realize the beauty and the
wonder and the power of natural laws, We realize yet more deeply
the power of Him who holds those laws, and all which they have
evolved, in the hollow of His hand; and to us the miraculous,
when thus attested, will be in no way more stupendous than the
natural, nor shall we find it an impossible conception that He who
sent His Son to earth to die for us should have put all authority
into His hand.

4 John vi. 19. Perhaps the better reading (as in the other Gospels) is titi rrji
6aXdddi!i,2ii which has the high authority of K, B, C, D.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 313
So then if, like Peter, we fix our eyes on Jesus, we too may walk
triumphantly over the swelling waves of disbelief, and unterrified
amid the rising winds of doubt ; but if we turn away our eyes from
Him in whom we have believed — if, as it is so easy to do, and as
' we are so much tempted to do, we look rather at the power and fury
of those terrible and destructive elements than at Him who can help
and save — then we too shall inevitably sink. Oh, if we feel, often
and often, that the water-floods threaten to drown us, and the deep
to swallow up the tossed vessel of our Church and Faith, may it
again and again be granted us to hear amid the storm and the dark
ness, and the voices prophesying war, those two sweetest of the
Saviour's utterances —
" Fear not. Only believe."
" It is I. Be not afraid."

40

314 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXX.
THE DISCOURSE AT CAPEENAUM.
" Gratia ejus non consumitur morsibus." 245 — Augustine.
The dawn of that day broke on one of the saddest episodes of our
Saviour's life. It was the day in the synagogue at Capernaum on
which He deliberately scattered the mists and exhalations of such
spurious popularity as the Miracle of the Loaves had gathered about
His person and His work, and put not only His idle followers, but
some even of His nearer disciples to a test under which their love for
Him entirely failed. That discourse in the synagogue forms a marked
crisis in His career. It was followed by manifestations of surprised
dislike which were as the first mutterings of that storm of hatred and
persecution which was henceforth to burst over His head.
We have seen already that some of the multitude, filled with vague
wonder and insatiable curiosity, had fingered on the little plain by
Bethsaida Julias that they might follow the movements of Jesus,
and share in the blessings and triumphs of which they expected an
immediate manifestation. They had seen Him dismiss His disciples,
and had perhaps caught glimpses of Him as He climbed the hill
alone ; they had observed that the wind was contrary, and that no
other boat but that of the Apostles had left the shore ; they made
sure, therefore, of finding Him somewhere on the hills above the
plain. Yet when the morning dawned they saw no trace of Him
either on plain or hill. Meanwhile some fittle boats — perhaps driven
across by the same gale which had retarded the opposite course of
the disciples ' — had arrived from Tiberias. They availed themselves
of these to cross over to Capernaum ; and there, already in the early
morning, they found Him after all the fatigues and agitations of yes
terday — after the day of sad tidings and ceaseless toil, after the night
of stormy solitude and ceaseless prayer — calmly seated, and calmly
teaching, in the familiar synagogue."
1 Blunt, Undes. Coincidences, p. 292.
1 And even this teaching must have been preceded by works of healing if Matt.
xiv. 34 — 36 be in strictly chronological sequence ; but a comparison of these
verses with Mark vi. 53 — 56, would seem to show that they refer more to a period
than to a particular day.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 315
"Rabbi, when didst thou get hither?" is the expression of their
natural surprise ; but it is met with perfect silence. The miracle of
walking on the water was one of necessity and mercy ; it in no way
concerned them ; it was not in any way intended for them ; nor was
it mainly or essentially as a worker of miracles that Christ wished to
claim their allegiance or convince their minds. And, therefore, read
ing their hearts, knowing that they were seeking Him in the very
spirit which He most disliked, He quietly drew aside the veil of per
haps half-unconscious hypocrisy which hid them from themselves,
and reproached them for seeking Him only for what they could get
from Him — "not because ye saw signs, but because ye ate of the
loaves and were satisfied." He who never rejected the cry of the
sufferer, or refused to answer the question of the faithful — He who
would never break the bruised reed, or quench the smoking flax — at
once rejected the false eye-service of mean self-interest and vulgar
curiosity. Yet He added for their sakes the eternal lesson, " Labor
ye not for the meat which perisheth, but for the meat which remain-
eth to eternal life, which the Son of Man shall give you ; for Him
the Father — even God — hath sealed."
It seems as if at first they were touched and ashamed. He had
read their hearts aright, and they ask Him, " What are we to do that
we may work the works of God ? "
"This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom He hath
sent." " But what sign would Jesus give them that they should
believe in Him? Their fathers ate the manna in the wilderness,
which David had called bread from heaven." 1 The inference was
obvious. Moses had given them manna from heaven ; Jesus as yet
— they hinted — had only given them barley-loaves of earth. But if
he were the true Messiah, was He not, according to all the legends
of their nation, to enrich and crown them, and to banquet them on
pomegranates from Eden, and " a vineyard of red wine," and upon
the flesh of Behemoth and Leviathan, and the great bird Bar Juchne ? "
Might not the very psalm which they had quoted have taught them
how worse than useless it would have been if Jesus had given them
manna, which, in their coarse literalism, they supposed to be in
reality angels' food ? Is not David in that psalm expressly showing
that to grant them one such blessing was only to make them ask
1 Ps. lxxviii. 24.
* For the Rabbinical dreams on this subject, see Buxtorf, Syn. Jud., cap. 50;
Bartolocci, Bibl. Rabb. i. 511 — 514 ; Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr., p. 552. On the manna
which was supposed to " serve to the appetite of the eater, and temper itself to
every man's liking," see Wisd. xvi. 20, 21.

316 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
greedily for more, and that if God had given their fathers more, it
was only because " they believed not in God, and put not their trust
in His help ; " but " while the meat was yet in their mouths, the
heavy wrath of God came upon them, and slew the mightiest of
them, and smote down the chosen men that were in Israel." And
does not David show that in spite of, and before, and after, this
wrathful granting to them to the full of their own hearts' lusts, so
far from believing and being humble they only sinned yet more and
more against Him, and provoked Him more and more ? Had not all
the past history of their nation proved decisively that faith must rest
on deeper foundations than signs and miracles, and that the evil
heart of unbelief must be stirred by nobler emotions than astonish
ment at the outstretched hand and the mighty arm ?
But Jesus led them at once to loftier regions than those of histori
cal conviction. He tells them that He who had given them the
manna was not Moses, but God ; and that the manna was only in
poetic metaphor bread from heaven ; but that His Father, the true
giver, was giving them the true bread from heaven even now —
even the bread of God which came down from heaven, and was giv
ing life to the world.1
Their minds still fastened to mere material images — their hopes
still running on mere material benefits — they ask for this bread from
heaven as eagerly as the woman of Samaria had asked for the
water which quenches all thirst. " Lord, now and always give us
this bread."
Jesus said to them, " I am the bread of life. He that cometh to
me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never
thirst ; " and He proceeds to point out to them that He came to do
the Father's will, and that His will was that all who came to His Son
should have eternal life.
Then the old angry murmurs burst out again — not this time from
the vulgar-minded multitude, but from His old opponents the lead
ing Jews - — " How could He say that He came down from Heaven ?
How could He call Himself the bread of life ? Was He not Jesus,
the son of Joseph, the carpenter of Nazareth ? "
Jesus never met these murmurs about His supposed parentage and
place of birth by revealing to the common crowds the high mystery
of His earthly origin. He thought not equality with God a thing to
be seized by Him. He was in no hurry to claim His own Divinity,
1 " The bread of God is that which cometh down," &c, not " he," as in the
English version.
2 John vi. 41, 52, oi 'IovSaioi.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 317
or demand the homage which was its due. He would let the
splendor of His Divine nature dawn on men gradually, not at first in
all its noonday brightness, but gently as the light of morning through
His word and works. In the fullest and deepest sense " He emptied
Himself of His glory." 1
But He met the murmurers, as He always did, by a stronger,
fuller, clearer declaration of the very truth which they rejected.
It was thus that He had dealt with Nicodemus ; it was thus that
He had taught the woman of Samaria ; it was thus also that He
answered the Temple doctors who arraigned His infringement of their
sabbatic rules. But the timid Rabbi and the erring woman had
been faithful enough and earnest enough to look deeper into His
words and humbly seek their meaning, and so to be guided into
truth. Not so with these listeners. God had drawn them to Christ,
and they had rejected His gracious drawing without which they could
not come. When Jesus reminded them that the manna was no life-
giving substance, since their fathers had eaten thereof and were dead,
but that He was Himself the bread of life, of which all who eat should
live forever ; and when, in language yet more startling, He added that
the bread was His flesh which He would give for the life of the world
— then, instead of seeking the true significance of that deep metaphor,
they made it a matter of mere verbal criticism, and only wrangled "
together about the idle question, " How can this man give us His flesh
to eat?" .
Thus they were carnally-minded, and to be carnally-minded is
death. They did not seek the truth, and it was more and more
taken from them. They had nothing, and therefore from them was
taken even what they had. In language yet more emphatic, under
figures yet more startling in their paradox, Jesus said to them,
"Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood,
ye have no life in you ; " 3 and again, as a still f urther enforcement
1 See some striking remarks in Lynch's Mornington Lectures, p. 171.
2 ipdxovro (John vi. 52). How needless their literalism was may be seen from
many Rabbinic passages in Lightfoot (Hor. Hebr. ad loc, pp. 553, 554) (and comp.
Ps. xix. 10; cxix. 3; Isa. iii. 1; Prov. ix. 5 ; Ezek. ii.. 8, 9, &c), e. g., "Every
eating and drinking in the book of Ecclesiastes is to be understood of the law of
good works" (Midr. Koheleth, 88, 4); "Israel shall eat the years of the Mes
siah ; "the just eat of the Shechinah," &c.
3 It is uncertain whether in calling Himself the Son of Man Jesus meant Ben
Adam (Job xxv. 6 i Ps. viii. 4), i. e., a representative of Humanity, or Bar Enosh
(Dan. vii. 13). The Hebrew word enosh represents man in his weakness (homo).
(Gratz, Gesch. d. Judenth. iii, 237.) It probably conveyed to His hearers a gen
eral conception of the Messiah as the representative of Humanity alike in its fee
bleness and in its glory (v. supr., p. 140).

318 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
and expansion of the same great truths — " He that eateth of this
bread shall live for ever."
No doubt the words were difficult, and, to those who came in a
hard and false spirit, offensive ; no doubt also the death and passion
of our Saviour Christ, and the mystery of that Holy Sacrament^ in
which we spiritually eat His flesh and drink His blood, has enabled
us more clearly to understand His meaning ; yet there was in the
words which He had used, enough, and more than enough, to shadow
forth to every attentive hearer the great truth, already familiar to them
from their own Law, that " Man doth not live by bread alone, but by
every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God ; " and the further
truth that eternal life, the life of the soul, was to be found in the deep
est and most intimate of all conceivable communions with the life and
teaching of Him who spake. And it must be remembered that if the
Lord's Supper has, for us, thrown a clearer light upon the meaning of
this discourse, on the other hand the metaphors which Jesus used had
not, to an educated Jew, one-hundredth part of the strangeness which
they have to us. Jewish literature was exceedingly familiar with the
symbolism which represented by " eating " an entire acceptance of and
incorporation with the truth, and by " bread " a spiritual doctrine. Even
the mere pictorial genius of the Hebrew language gave the clue to the
right interpretation. Those who heard Christ in the synagogue of
Capernaum must almost involuntarily have recalled similar expres
sions in their own prophets ; and since the discourse was avowedly
parabolic — since Jesus had expressly excluded all purely sensual and
Judaic fancies — it is quite clear that much of their failure to com
prehend Him rose not from the understanding, but from the will.
His saying was hard, as St. Augustine remarks, only to the hard ; and
incredible only to the incredulous. For if bread be the type of all
earthly sustenance, then the " bread of heaven " may well express
all spiritual sustenance, all that involves and supports eternal life.
Now the lesson which He wished to teach them was this — that
eternal life is in the Son of God. They, therefore, that would have
"eternal life must partake of the bread of heaven, or — to use the other
and deeper image — must eat the flesh and drink the blood of the
Son of Man.1 They must feed on Him in their hearts by faith.

1 The following profound remark of Von Ammon will help the reader to under
stand this chapter. " What is true," he says, " of the bread of heaven, is true also
of the flesh and blood of the Son of Man ; for these predicates are only substitutes
for the original image of the bread of life, and are subject to the same analogical
explanations as this last is " (quoted by Lange, Life of Christ, iii. 157). " Believe

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 319
They might accept or reject the truth which He was revealing to
their consciences, but there could be no possible excuse for their
pretended incapacity to understand its meaning.
There is a teaching which is, and is intended to be, not only
instructive but probationary ; of which the immediate purpose is not
only to teach, but to test. Such had been the object of this memo
rable discourse. To comprehend it rightly required an effort not only
of the understanding, but also of the will. It was meant to put an
end to the merely selfish hopes of that " rabble of obtrusive chifiasts "
whose irreverent devotion was a mere cloak for worldliness ; it was
meant also to place before the Jewish authorities words which they
were too full of hatred and materialism to understand. But its sift
ing power went deeper than this. Some even of the disciples found
the saying harsh and repulsive. They did not speak out openly, but
Jesus recognized their discontent, and when He had left the syna
gogue, spoke to them, in this third and concluding part of His dis
course,1 at once more gently and less figuratively than He had done
to the others. To these He prophesied of that future ascension,
which should prove to them that He had indeed come down from
heaven, and that the words about His flesh — which should then be
taken into heaven — could only have a figurative meaning. Nay,
with yet further compassion for their weakness, He intimated to them
the significance of those strong metaphors in which He had purposely
veiled His words from the curious eyes of selfishness and the settled
malice of opposition. In one sentence which is surely the key-note of
all that had gone before — in a sentence which surely renders nuga
tory much of the pseudo-mystical and impossibly-elaborate exegesis
by which the plain meaning of this chapter has been obscured, He
added —
" It is the spirit that quickeneth ; the flesh profiteth nothing : the
words that I speak " unto you, they are spirit, and they are life."
Why then had they found His words so hard ? He tells them : it
was because some of them believed not ; it was because, as He had
already told the Jews, the spirit of faith is a gift and grace of God,
and thou hast eaten," is the formula of St. Augustine ; " believe, and thou shalt
eat," that of Calvin.
1 It will be observed that verses 26 — 40 are addressed mainly to the multitude ,
verses 43—58 to the leading Jews ; verses 61 — 65 to the disciples.
2 Or perhaps "have spoken," XeXaXr/xa (X, B, C, D, L, most versions), &c; but
I would not, with Stier and Alford, confine pifpara merely to " my flesh " and
" mv blood."

320 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
which gift these murmur ers were rejecting, against which grace they
were struggling even now.1
And from that time many of them left Him ; many who had
hitherto sought Him, many who were not far from the kingdom of
heaven. Even in the midst of crowds His life was to be lonelier
thenceforth, because there would be fewer to know and love Him.
In deep sadness of heart He addressed to the Twelve the touching
question, " Will ye also go away ? " It was Simon Peter whose warm
heart spoke out impetuously for all the rest. He at least had rightly
apprehended that strange discourse at which so many had stumbled.
" Lord," he exclaims, " to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the woeds
of eternal ldje. But we believe and are sure that Thou art the
Holy One of God." "
It was a noble confession, but at that bitter moment the heart of
Jesus was heavily oppressed, and He only answered —
" Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil ? " 3
The expression was terribly strong, and the absence of all direct
parallels render it difficult for us to understand its exact significance.
But although it was afterwards known that the reproach was aimed
at Judas, yet it is doubtful whether at the actual time any were
aware of this except the traitor himself.
1 There seems to be a special reference to Judas in these words (ver. 66), and it
seems very probable that the first obvious extinction of purely temporal Messi
anic hopes may have been with him the turning-point of that rejection which
ended in his ultimate treachery.
2 This, and not " that Christ, the Son of the living God " — a confession which
was given for the first time some months afterwards — is almost undoubtedly the
true reading. (X, B, C, D, L, &c.)
3 The English version is unfortunate, because it does not maintain the distinc
tion between SidfioXoi, the word here used, and Saip oviov, which it usually
renders " devil" — e. g., in "He has a devil." Euthymius here explains " devil"
by either " servant of the devil " or " conspirator ; " and the latter meaning seems
very probable. Indeed, this very word (iitifiovXoi) is used by the LXX. to ren
der the Hebrew Satan in 1 Kings v. 4 ; 1 Sam. xxix. 4. I have already noticed
how much more lightly the Jews (and indeed all Orientals to this day) used the
word " Satan " than we do. This indeed may almost be called a modus loquendi
among them, and if Jesus spoke in Aramaic, and used the word N^?, then the
reproach is not one-tenth part so fearful as it sounds to us. Thus, the sons of
Zeruiah are called a Satan to David (2 Sam. xix. 22), and Hadad is called a " Satan"
to King Solomon (1 Kings xi. 23, where it is merely rendered " adversary ") ; and
in Matt. xvi. 23, the word is applied to Peter himself. " When the ungodly curseth
Satan " (i. e., an enemy 1), says the son of Sirach (xxi. 27), " he curseth his own
soul." All this is important in many ways. Further, we may observe that
8id/3oXoi occurs by no means frequently in the New Testament. ( V. supra, pp.
193, 263, 265.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 321
Many false or half -sincere disciples had left Him : might not these
words have been graciously meant to furnish one more opportunity
to the hard and impure soul of the man of Kerioth, so that before
being plunged into yet deeper and more irreparable guilt, he might
leave Him too ? If so, the warnmg was rejected. In deadly sin
against his own conscience, Judas stayed to heap up for himself
wrath " against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous
judgment of God."
41

322 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXI.
GATHERING OPPOSITION.
"E^ooBsv itapaXijcpBeidai aypacpoi xsv ocpao viai.ui — Justinian, Nov. 146.
Although the discourse which we have just narrated formed a
marked period in our Lord's ministry, and although from this time
forward the clouds gather more and more densely about His course,
yet it must not be supposed that this was the first occasion, even in
Galilee, on which enmity against His person and teaching had been
openly displayed.
1. The earliest traces of doubt and disaffection arose from the
expression which He used on several occasions, " Thy sins be for
given thee." It was in these words that He had addressed the woman
that was a sinner, and the sick of the palsy. On both occasions the
address had excited astonishment and disapproval, and at Simon's
house, where this had found no open expression, and where no mira
cle had been wrought, Jesus gently substituted another expression.1
But it was not so at the healing of the palsied man ; there an open
murmur had arisen among the Scribes and Pharisees, and there,
revealing more of His true majesty, Jesus, by His power of working
miracles, had vindicated His right to forgive sins." The argument
was unanswerable, for not only did the prevalent belief connect sick
ness in every instance with actual sin, but also it was generally main
tained, even by the Rabbis, " that no sick man is healed from his
disease until all his sins have been forgiven." 3 It was, therefore, in
full accordance with their own notions that He who by His own
1 Luke vii. 48—50. See p. 239.
4 Matt. ix. 6 ; Mark ii. 10 ; Luke v. 24. (See p. 269.) " But as the little bub
bling and gentle murmurs of the water are presages of a storm, and are more
troublesome in their prediction than in their violence ; so were the arguings of
the Pharisees symptoms of a secret displeasure and an ensuing war ; though at
first represented in the civilities of question and scholastical discourses, yet they
did but forerun vigorous objections and bold calumnies, which were the fruits of
the next summer" (Jer. Taylor, Life of Christ, II. xii.).
3 Nedarim, f. 41, 1, in Schottg., Hor. Hebr., p. 93 ; Keim, Gesch. Jesu, ii. 300.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 323
authority could heal diseases, could also, by His own authority, pro
nounce that sins were forgiven. It was true that they could hardly
conceive of either healing or forgiveness conveyed in such irregular
channels, and without the paraphernalia of sacrifices, and without the
need of sacerdotal interventions.1 But, disagreeable as such proceed
ings were to their well-regulated minds, the fact remained that the
cures were actually wrought, and were actually attested by hundreds
of living witnesses. It was felt, therefore, that this ground of oppo
sition was wholly untenable, and it was tacitly abandoned. To urge
that there was " blasphemy " in His expressions would only serve to
bring into greater prominence that there was miracle in His acts.
2. Nor, again, do they seem to have pressed the charge, preserved
for us only by our Lord's own allusion, that He was " a glutton
and a wine-drinker." " The charge was too flagrantly false and
malicious to excite any prejudice against one who, although He did
not adopt the stern asceticism of John, yet lived a life of the
extremest simplicity, and merely did what was done by the most scru
pulous Pharisees in accepting the invitations to feasts, where He had
constantly fresh opportunities of teaching and doing good. The
calumny was, in fact, destroyed when He had shown that the men of
that generation were like wayward and peevish children whom
nothing could conciliate, charging Jesus with intemperance because
He did not avoid an innocent festivity, and John with demoniac
possession because he set his face against social corruptions.
3. Nor, once more, did they press the charge of His not fasting.3
In making that complaint they had hoped for the powerful aid of
John's disciples ; but when these had been convinced, by the words
of their own prophet, how futile and unreasonable was their com
plaint, the Pharisees saw that it was useless to found a charge upon
the neglect of a practice which was not only unrecognized in the
Mosaic law,-4 but whiah some of their own noblest and wisest teach-
1 See Ewald, Gesch. Christus, p. 376.
2 Matt. xi. 19 ; v. supr., pp. 234, 248.
3 Matt. xi. 16, 17. See p. 273.
4 Except on the Great Day of Atonement. The principle of the answer given
by Jesus to the disciples of John had already been recognized as to the four
yearly fasts which seem to have become usual in the time of the prophet Zecha-
riah (Zech. viii. 19). On the bi-weekly and other fasts of the Pharisees, see Bux-
torf, Syn. Jud., cap. xxx. It is curious that the most ancient of the Rabbinic
treatises — the Megillath Taanith, written before the destruction of the Temple —
contains merely a list of days on which it is forbidden to fast ; at the end of it are
a certain number of days on which fasting is recommended ; but this was no part
of the original work (Derenbourg, Hist, de Pal. 2).

324 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ers had not encouraged.1 The fact that Jesus did not require His
disciples to fast would certainly cause no forfeiture of the popular
sympathy, and could not be urged to His discredit even before a
synagogue or a Sanhedrin.
4. A deeper and more lasting offence was caused, and a far more
deadly opposition stimulated, by Christ's choice of Matthew as an
Apostle, and by His deliberate tolerance of — it might. almost be said
preference, for — the society of publicans and sinners." Among the
Jews of that day the distinctions of religious life created a barrier
almost as strong as that of caste. No less a person than Hillel had
said that " no ignorant person could save himself from sin, and no
' man of the people ' be pious." 3 A scrupulous Jew regarded the
multitude of his own nation who " knew not the Law " as accursed ; and
just as every Jew, holding himself to be a member of a royal generation
and a peculiar people, looked on the heathen world with the sovereign
disdain of an exclusiveness founded on the habits of a thousand years,
so the purist faction regarded their more careless and offending breth
ren as being little, if at all, better than the very heathen.4 Yet here
was one who mingled freely and familiarly- — mingled without one
touch of hauteur or hatred — among offensive publicans and flagrant
1 Ex. gr., Simeon the Just, who made the Law, Worship, and Charity the three
bases of the world (Abhdth, i. 2), and " sa douce et vraie pie"te s'opposait fi toute
exageration, et surtout aux abstinences rigoureuses " 24' (Derenbourg, Hist. Pal. 51).
5 Matt. ix. 11 ; xi. 19 ; Luke v. 30 ; vii. 34 ; xix. 7. See p. 271.
' TOtl pKil DJJ iib (Pirke Abhdth, ii. 5). In the first clause, " no ignorant per
son " is literally " no empty cistern " (TQ)- The expression am ha-arets, " people
of the land " (v. ante, p. 90), is exceedingly common in the Rabbis, and marks the
arrogantly tyrannous sacerdotalism of the learned class (cf. John vii. 49). At the
end of the Mishnaic tract HorajSth we find that a Priest takes precedence of a
serving Levite, a Levite of other Israelites, an Israelite of a bastard (Mamser), a
Mamser of the Nethinim (Josh. ix. 27), a Nethin of an alien (Ger), a Ger of a
freedman ; but if the Mamser be a pupil of the Rabbis, and the High Priest an
ignoramus (am ha-arets), then such a Mamser has the precedence of the High
Priest 1 " (See Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. in Matt, xxiii. 14.) Their boasts as to the
dignity of a Talmid chakam are like those of the Stoics, which proved so amusing
to Horace (Ep. i. 1, 106 ; Cicero, Pro Muraena, 29). The definition of an am
ha-arets given in Sota, f. 21, 1, is one who either does not repeat the daily Krishma,
or does not wear tephillin, or tsitsith, or does not wait on the learned. See Schott-
gen, Hor. Hebr. in John vii. 49, for yet stronger specimens of this intense spirit
of Pharisaism which it was the very object of Jesus to replace by a nobler
Humanitarianism (Acts x. 34). There is perhaps no kind of caste-feeling more
hateful than the self-glorifying arrogance of a pseudo-erudition.
4 Our Lord, when He said, " Let him be unto thee as a heathen man and a pub
lican " (Matt, xviii. 17), was simply adopting a current form of expression. The
amazing virulence of Jewish exclusiveness is illustrated in Shabbath, xiv. 4;
Babha Kama, viii. 6, 4 ; 2 Esdras vi. 55, &c. (Gfrorer, Jahrh. d. Heils i. 214.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 325
sinners. Nay, more, He suffered women, out of whom had been cast
seven devils, to accompany Him in His journeys, and harlots to bathe
His feet with tears ! How different from the Pharisees, who held that
there was pollution in the mere touch of those who had themselves
been merely touched by the profane populace, and who had laid down
the express rule that no one ought to receive a guest into his house if
he suspected him of being a sinner ! '
Early in His ministry, Jesus, with a divine and tender irony, had
met the accusation by referring them to His favorite passage of Scrip
ture — that prof ound utterance of the prophet Hosea, of which He
bade them "go and learn" the meaning- — "I will have mercy and
not sacrifices." He had further rebuked at once their unkindliness
and their self-satisfaction by the proverb, " They that be whole need
not a physician, but they that are sick." The objection did not, how-
, ever, die away. In His later days, when he was journeying to Jeru
salem, these incessant enemies again raised the wrathful and scornful
murmur, " This man receiveth sinners and eateth with them ; " " and
then it was that Jesus answered them and justified His ways, and
revealed more clearly and more lovingly than had ever been done
before the purpose of God's love towards repentant sinners, in those
three exquisite and memorable parables, the lost sheep, the lost piece
of money, and, above all, the prodigal son. Drawn from the simplest
elements of daily experience, these parables, and the last especially,
illustrated, and illustrated for ever, in a rising climax of tenderness,
the deepest mysteries of the divine compassion — the joy that there is
in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.3 Where, in the entire range
of human literature, sacred or profane, can anything be found so terse,
so luminous, so full of infinite tenderness — so faithful in the picture
1 In Bab. Berachoth, 43, 6, one of the six things forbidden to the pupils of the
wise is "to sit at table in a company of the unlearned." Other instances of inso
lent self-assertion against the am ha-arets are given in Gfrorer, i. 191.
2 SisydyyvZov (Luke xv. 2), " kept angrily muttering to each other." (See
supra, p. 270.) The contrast of this conduct with that of the Pharisees becomes
more striking when we remember the extraordinary and almost ludicrous precau
tions which they took to secure the impossible end of avoiding every conceivable
legal impurity in their chabhoordth, or social meals. How ineradicable the feeling
was, we may see most strikingly by observing that it still infected even some of
the disciples and apostles long years after the resurrection of their Lord, who
contended with Peter, saying, " Thou wentest in to men uncircumcised, and
didst eat with them ! " (Acts xi. 3) — the exact echo of the caste-feeling here
described (cf. Gal. ii. 12.)
8 In the lost sheep we have the stupid, bewildered sinner ; in the lost drachma,
the sinner stamped with God's image, but lying lost, useless, and ignorant of his
own worth ; in the prodigal son, the conscious and willing sinner.

326 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
which it furnishes of the consequences of sin, yet so merciful in the
hope which it affords to amendment and penitence — as this little
story ? How does it summarize the consolations of religion and the
sufferings of life ! All sin and punishment, all penitence and for
giveness, find their best delineation in these few brief words. The
radical differences of temperament and impulse which separate differ
ent classes of men — the spurious independence of a restless free-will
— the preference of the enjoyments of the present to all hopes of the
future — the wandering far away from that pure and peaceful region
which is indeed our home, in order to let loose every lower passion in
the riotous indulgence which wastes and squanders the noblest gifts
of life — the brief continuance of those fierce spasms of forbidden
pleasure — the consuming hunger, the scorching thirst, the helpless
slavery, the unutterable degradation, the un compassionated anguish
that must inevitably ensue — where have these myriad-times-repeated •
experiences of sin and sorrow been ever painted — though here painted
in a few touches only — by a hand more tender and more true than
in the picture of that foolish boy demanding prematurely the share
which he claims of his father's goods ; journeying into a far country,
wasting his substance with riotous living ; suffering from want in the
mighty famine ; forced to submit to the foul infamy of feeding swine,
and fain to fill his belly with the swine-husks which no man gave ? J
And then the coming to himself, the memory of his father's meanest
servants who had enough and to spare, the return homewards, the
agonized confession, the humble, contrite, heart-broken entreaty, and
that never-to-be-equalled climax which, like a sweet voice from heaven,
has touched so many million hearts to penitence and tears —
"And he arose and came to his father. But when he was yet a
great way off his father saw him and had compassion, and ran, and
fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto him, Father,
I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy
to be called thy son. But the father said to the servants, Bring forth
the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and shoes

1 This conception of ignominy would be far more intense to a Jew than to us.
The Jews detested swine so much, that they would only speak of a pig euphe
mistically as dabhar acheer, " another thing:" The husks, xspdna, are the long
bean-like pods of the carob-tree, or Egyptian fig (Ceratonia siliqua, Linn.). I have
tasted them in Palestine ; they are stringy, sweetish, coarse, and utterly unfit for
human sustenance. They are sold by fruiterers in Paris, and are said to be used
in distilling maraschino. The tree was called the " locust-tree," from the mistaken
notion that its xspdna are the dxpiSsi on which St. John fed (Matt. iii. 4; Lev.
xi. 22). tSiSov, either " ever gave " or " chose to give " to him.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 327
on his feet : and bring hither the fatted calf and kill it ; and let us eat
and be merry : for this my son was dead and is alive again, was lost
and is found."
And since no strain could rise into sweeter and nobler tenderness
— since death itself could reveal no lovelier or more consolatory
lesson than it conveys to sinful man — to us it might seem that
this is the true climax of the parable, and that here it should end
as with the music of angel harps. And here it would have ended
had the mystery of human malice and perversity been other than it
is. But the conclusion of it bears most directly on the very circum
stances that called it forth. The angry murmur of the Pharisees
and Scribes had shown how utterly ignorant they were, in their cold
dead hardness and pride of heart, that, in the sight of God, the tear
of one truly repentant sinner is transcendently dearer than the
loveless and fruitless formalism of a thousand Pharisees. Little
did they suspect that penitence can bring the very harlot and publi
can into closer communion with their Maker than the combined
excellence of a thousand vapid and respectable hypocrisies. And
therefore it was that Jesus added how the elder son came in, and was
indignant at the noise of merriment, and was angry at that ready
forgiveness, and reproached the tender heart of his father, and drag
ged up again in their worst form the forgiven sins of this brother
whom he would not acknowledge, and showed all the narrow unpar-
doning malignity of a heart which had mistaken external rectitude
for holy love.1 Such self-righteous malice, such pitiless and repulsive
respectability, is an evil more inveterate — a sore more difficult to
probe, and more hard to cure — than open disobedience and passion
ate sin. And truly, when we read this story, and meditate deeply
over all that it implies, we may, from our hearts, thank God that He
who can bring good out of the worst evil — honey out of the slain
lion, and water out of the flinty rock — could, even from an exhibi-

1 There are several touches in the original which a translation can hardly pre
serve, but which show the deepest insight into the angry human heart in all its
mean' jealousies and rancors — e. g., the sharp indignant iSov (See!) with which
the elder son begins his expostulation ; the inability to recognize his free service
as anything better than a constant slavery (ip.oi rodavra ett/ SovXevgo); the
position of ipoi ("you never gave me even a kid that I might enjoy myself with
my friends 1 ") ; the use of " this son of yours " instead of " my brother ; " the exag- '
gerated and concentrated malignity of the 6 xaracpayaov dov rov fiiov psrd
itopvGov,24* describing his brother's wasted life in its worst and grossest form.
This brutally uncharitable desire to make the worst of sin repented of, is the
basest touch of all.

328 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
tion of such a spirit as this, draw His materials for the divinest utter
ance of all revelation — the parable of the prodigal son.1
The relation of Jesus to publicans and sinners was thus explained,
and also the utter antagonism between His spirit and that inflated
religionism which is the wretched and hollow counterfeit of all real
religion. The Judaism of that day substituted empty forms and
meaningless ceremonies for true righteousness ; it mistook unchari
table exclusiveness for genuine purity; it delighted to" sun itself in
the injustice of an imagined favoritism from which it would fain
have shut out all God's other children ; it was so profoundly hypo
critical as not even to recognize its own hypocrisy ; it never thought
so well of itself as when it was crushing the broken reed and tramp
ling out the last spark from the smoking flax ; * it thanked God for
the very sins of others, and thought that He could be pleased with a
service in which there was neither humility, nor truthfulness, nor
loyalty, nor love. These poor formalists, who thought that they
were so rich and increased with goods, had to learn that they were
wretched, and poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked. These
sheep, which fancied that they had not strayed, had to imderstand
that the poor lost sheep might be carried home on the shoulders of
the Good Shepherd with a yet deeper tenderness ; these elder sons
had to learn that their Father's spirit, however little they might be
able to realize it in their frozen unsympathetic hearts, was this : " It
was meet that we should make merry and be glad, for this thy brother
was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found." 3
5. But however much it might be manifest that the spirit of
the Christ and the spirit of the Pharisee were inalienably opposed to
each other, yet up to this point the enemies of Jesus were unable to
ruin His influence or check His work. To forgive, with the same
word which healed the diseases, the sins by which they believed all
diseases to be caused — to join in social festivities — to associate with
publicans and sinners — were not, and could not be construed into,
1 I have here touched on one side of the parable only — its individual meaning.
Of course it involves, on all sides, infinitely more than has here been educed from
it; especially the relation of Jews to the Gentile world, and the desperately
jealous fury and rancor kindled in the Jewish mind (Acts xiii. 50; xxviii. 28, &c.)
by the bare mention of the truth that God could accept, and pardon, and bless the
Gentiles no less than the children of Abraham.
2 " Qui peccatori non porrigit manum — quassatum calamum confringit, qui
scintillam fidei contemnit in parvulis, linum extinguit f umigans. " 242 (Jer.)
3 He will not encourage the jealous hatred which had peeped out in the elder
son's half -repudiation of this relationship ("this son of thine," 6 vioi dov ovroi,.
Luke xv. 30).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 329
offences against the law. But a weightier charge, more persistently
reiterated, more violently resented, remained behind — a charge of
distinctly violating the express laws of Moses by non-observance of
the Sabbath. This it was which caused a surprise, an exacerbation,
a madness, a thirst for sanguinary vengeance, which pursued Him to
the very cross. For the Sabbath was a Mosaic, nay, even a primeval
institution, and it had become the most distinctive and the most
passionately reverenced of all the ordinances which separated the
Jew from the Gentile as a peculiar people. It was at once the sign
of their exclusive privileges, and the centre of their barren formal
ism. Their traditions, their patriotism, even their obstinacy, were
all enlisted in its scrupulous maintenance. Not only had it been
observed in heaven before man was, but they declared that the people
of Israel had been chosen for the sole purpose of keeping it.1 Was
it not even miraculously kept by the Sabbatical river of the Holy
City ? Their devotion to it was only deepened by the universal ridi
cule, inconvenience, and loss which it entailed upon them in the
heathen world: They were even proud that, from having observed
it with a stolid literalism, they had suffered themselves on that day
to lose battles, to be cut to pieces by their enemies, to see Jerusalem
itself imperilled and captured. Its observance had been fenced
round by the minutest, the most painfully precise, the most ludi
crously insignificant restrictions. The Prophet had called it " a
delight," and therefore it was a duty even for the poor to eat three
times on that day. They were to feast on it, though no fire was
to be lighted and no food cooked. According to the stiff and narrow
school of Shammai, no one on the Sabbath might even comfort the
sick or enliven the sorrowful. Even the preservation of life was
a breaking of the Sabbath; and, on the other hand, even to kill
a flea was as bad as to kill a camel." Had not the command to
1 These extravagances occur in the Book of Jubilees, a collection of fiercely
fanatical Hagaddth which dates from the first century. For the fable of the Sab
batic river (which probably arose from the intermittent character of some of the
springs about Jerusalem) see Josephus, B. J. vii. 5, § 1. It might be said, how
ever, to violate the Sabbath rather than keep it, for it only ran every seventh day,
2 You must not walk through a stream on stilts, for you really carried the stilts.
A woman must not go out with any ribbons about her, unless they were sewed to
her dress. A false tooth must not be worn. A person with the tooth-ache might
not rinse his mouth with vinegar, but he might hold it in his mouth and swallow
it. No one might write down two letters of the alphabet. The sick might not
send for a physician. A person with lumbago might not rub or foment the
affected part. A tailor must not go out with his needle on Friday night, lest he
Should forget it, and so break the Sabbath by carrying it about. A cock must not
42

330 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
" do no manner of work upon the Sabbath day " been most absolute
and most emphatic ? had not Moses himself and all the congregation
caused the son of Shelomith to be stoned to death for merely gather
ing sticks upon it ? had not the Great Synagogue itself drawn up the
thirty-nine abhdth and quite innumerable tolddth, or -prohibitions of
labors which violated it in the first or in the second degree ? Yet
here was One, claiming to be a prophet, yea, and more than a
prophet, deliberately setting aside, as it seemed to them, the traditional
sanctity of that day of days ! Even an attentive reader of the Gos
pels will be surprised to find how large a portion of the enmity and
opposition which our Lord excited, not only in Jerusalem, but even
in Galilee and in Persea, turned upon this point alone.1
The earliest outbreak of the feeling in Galilee must have occurred
shortly after the events narrated in the last chapter. The feeding of
the five thousand, and the discourse in the synagogue of Capernaum,
took place immediately before a Passover. None of the Evangelists
narrate the events which immediately succeeded. If Jesus attended
this Passover, He must have done so in strict privacy and seclusion,
and no single incident of His visit has been recorded. It is more
probable that the peril and opposition which He had undergone in
Jerusalem were sufficient to determine His absence " until this tyranny
was overpast." " It is not, however, impossible that, if He did not
wear a piece of ribbon round its leg on the Sabbath, for this would be to carry
something ! Shammai would not entrust a letter to a pagan after Wednesday,
lest he should not have arrived at his destination on the Sabbath. He was occu
pied, we are told, all the week with thinking as to how he should keep the
Sabbath. The Shammaites held that Sabbatism applied (1) to men, (2) to beasts,
(3) to things. The Hillelites denied the last, not holding it necessary to put out a
lamp which had been kindled before the Sabbath, or to remove fish-nets, or to
prevent the dropping of oil in a press. Rabbinical authorities for each of these
statements (though as usual the Talmud is self-contradictory about some of them)
may be found in Schottgen ; Lightfoot ; Keim, Gesch. Jesu, ii. 297 ; Otho, Lex.
Rabb. s. v. " Sabbathum ; " Buxtorf, De Synag. Jud., pp. 352 — 356 ; Derenbourg,
Hist. Pal. 38. The Rabbi Kolonimos, having been accused of murdering a boy,
wrote on a piece of paper, put it on the dead boy's lips, and so made the corpse
rise and reveal the true murderer, in order to save himself from being torn to
pieces. As this had been done on the Sabbath, he spent the rest of his life in
penance, and on his death-bed ordered that for a hundred years every one Who
passed should fling a stone at his tomb, because every one who profaned the Sab
bath should be stoned 1 Synesius (Ep. 4) tells a story of a pilot who, in the midst
of a storm, dropped the rudder when the Sabbath began, and would only take it
again when his life was threatened. Reland (Antt. Hebr., p. 518), does not quote
the story accurately.
1 See instances in Matt. xii. 1, et seq. ; Mark ii. 23 — 28; iii. 1 — 6; Luke vi.
1 — 11 ; xiii. 14 — 17 ; xiv. 1 — 6 ; John v. 10, et seq. ; vii. 23 ; ix. 14, ev seq.
» John v. 16. 18. "

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 33 1
go in person, some at least of His disciples fulfilled this national
obligation ; and it may have been an . observation of their behavior,
combined with the deep hatred inspired by His bidding the healed
man take up his bed on the Sabbath day, and by the ground which
He had taken in defending Himself against that charge, which
induced the Scribes and Pharisees of Jerusalem to send some of their
number to follow His steps, and to keep an espionage upon His
actions, even by the shores of His own beloved lake. Certain it is
that henceforth, at every turn and every period of His career — in
the corn-fields, in synagogues, in feasts, during journeys, at Caper
naum, at Magdala, in Persea, at Bethany — we find Him dogged,
watched, impeded, reproached, questioned, tempted, insulted, con
spired against by these representatives of the leading authorities of
"Ffia nation, of whom we are repeatedly told that they were not
natives of the place, but " certain which came from Jerusalem." ¦
i. The first attack in Galilee arose from the circumstance that, in
passing through the corn-fields on the Sabbath day," His disciples,
who were suffering from hunger, plucked the ears of corn, rubbed
them in the palms of their hands, blew away the chaff, and ate.
Undoubtedly this was a very high offence — even a capital offence —
in the eyes of the Legalists. To reap and to thresh on the Sabbath
were of course forbidden by one of the abhdth, or primary rules ; but
1 Matt. xv. 1 ; Mark iii. 22 ; vii. 1. Those, however, mentioned at an earlier
period (Luke v. 17) were not the same as these hostile spies. We see from Acts
xiv. 19 ; xvii. 13 ; Gal. ii. 12, how common among the Jews was the base and
demoralizing spirit of heresy-hunting.
2 This Sabbath is called in St. Luke by the mysterious name of the second-first
Sabbath, iv dafi/3dr<p SEVTEpoitpwrGo — i.e., the first of the second, not vice
versd as in the English version. There is not much importance in discovering
the exact significance of this isolated expression, because the time of year is amply
marked by the fact that the wheat (for the context shows that it could hardly have
been barley) was ripe — i. e., that the time was a week or two after the Passover,
when the first ripe sheaf was offered as the first-fruits of the harvest. It is prob
able that in the warm hollow of Gennesareth corn ripened earlier than on the
plains. The reading SEVTEpoTtpooraq is itself very doubtful, and is omitted by
many MSS. (especially x, B, L) and versions, including the Syriac and Coptic. Mr.
Monro very ingeniously conjectures that originally the eye of a weary copyist
may have been misled into it by seeing the Siaitop. or Siaditop., which comes
near it. If this led to a misreading SEvrepao, the itpaorap may have been added
as a gloss with reference to the kripGo in verse 6. Almost every commentator
has a new theory on the meaning of the word, supposing it to be genuine. The
only opinions which seem sufficiently probable and sufficiently supported to make it
worth while to mention them are — 1. The first Sabbath of the second month (Wet
stein). 2. The first Sabbath in the second year of the Sabbatical cycle (Wieseler).
8. The first Sabbath after the second day of unleavened bread (Scaliger, Ewald
Keim, &c, following the analogy of dd/3. itpGorov in Clem. Alex. Strom, vi. 5,41).

332 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the Rabbis had decided that to pluck corn was to be construed as
reaping, and to rub it as threshing ; even to walk on grass was for
bidden, because that too was a species of threshing ; and not so much
as a fruit must be plucked from a tree.1 All these latter acts were
violations of the tolddth, or " derivative rules." Perhaps these spy
ing Pharisees had followed Jesus on this Sabbath day to watch
whether He would go more than the prescribed techum ha-Shabbeth,
or Sabbath-day's journey of two thousand cubits ; * but here they had
been fortunate enough to light upon a far more heinous and flagrant
scandal — an act of the disciples which, strictly and technically speak
ing, rendered them liable to death by stoning. Jesus Himself had
not indeed shared in the offence. H we may press the somewhat
peculiar expression of St. Mark, He was walking along through the
corn-fields by the ordinary path, bearing His hunger as best He
might, while the disciples were pushing for themselves a road through
the standing corn by plucking the ears as they went along.3 Now
there was no harm whatever in plucking the ears ; that was not only
sanctioned by custom, but even distinctly permitted by the Mosaic
law.4 But the heinous fact was that this should be done on a
Sabbath ! Instantly the Pharisees are round our Lord, pointing to
the disciples with the angry question, " See ! why do they " — with a
contemptuous gesture towards the disciples — " do that which is not
lawful on the Sabbath day ? "
With that divine and instantaneous readiness, with that depth
1 Maimonides, Shabbath, c. 7, 8; Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. 206; Sepp, Leben Jesu,
ii. 329. Similarly, since " building " was one of the thirty-nine works forbidden
on the Sabbath, curdling milk was also forbidden, because it was a sort of build
ing. Forbidden works were divided into " fathers " (abhdth, apxtfyixaorara
airia, Phil. De Vit. Mog. 686) and " descendants " (tolddth): and to build was one
of the abhdth ; to make cheese, one of the tolddth.
5 In the Jerus. Targ., Exod. xvi. 29, the words " beyond two thousand yards "
are added, as also on Ruth i. 16. Yet the Pharisees had ingenious rules of their
own for getting over the resultant inconveniences, which may be found in the
Mishna (Erubhin — mixtures, or amalgamations of distances, 10 chapters). The
treatise Shabbath occupies 24 chapters.
3 Mark ii. 23, xai iyevsro itapaitopsvsdBai avrov Sid tgov ditopipGov, xai
ffp^avro oi paBr)Tai avrov 6S6v itoisiv riXXovrei rovi drdxvai. In classi
cal Greek, this would mean " began to make themselves a road by plucking."
Meyer was the first to support this rendering, and he is followed by Volkmar,
Bleek, Keim, &c, and by Bishop Wordsworth. It is doubtful, however, whether
the classical usage of 6S6v itoisiv can be pressed, and it must be confessed that
on this supposition the phrase would be a very curious one.
4 Deut. xxiii. 25. I was surprised to see that the Arabs in some fields near the
summit of Gerizim looked on with perfect indifference while our weary horses
ate freely of the green springing corn.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 333
of insight and width of knowledge which characterized His
answers to the most sudden surprises, Jesus instantly protected His
disciples with personal approval and decisive support. As the charge
this time was aimed not at Himself but at His disciples, His line of
argument and defence differs entirely from that which, as we have
seen, He had adopted at Jerusalem. There Pie rested His supposed
violation of the law on His personal authority ; here, while He again
declared Himself Lord of the Sabbath, He instantly quoted first from
their own Cethubhim, then from their own Law, a precedent and a
principle which absolved His followers from all blame. "Have ye
not read," He asked, adopting perhaps with a certain delicate irony,
as He did at other times, a favorite formula of their own Rabbis,
"how David not only went with his armed followers1 into the
Temple on the Sabbath day," but actually ate with them the sanc
tified shewbread, which it was expressly forbidden for any but the
priests to eat?" If David, their hero, their favorite, then- saint, had
thus openly and flagrantly violated the letter of the law, and had yet
been blameless on the sole plea of a necessity higher than any merely
ceremonial injunction, why were the disciples to blame for the harm
less act of sating their hunger? And again, if their own Rabbis had
laid it down that there was " no Sabbatism in the Temple ; " 3 that the
priests on the Sabbath might hew the wood, and light the fires, and
place hot fresh-baked shewbread on the table, and slay double vic
tims, and circumcise children, and thus in every way violate the rules
of the Sopherim about the Sabbath, and yet be blameless4 — nay, if
in acting thus they were breaking the Sabbath at the bidding of the
very Law which ordains the Sabbath — then if the Temple excuses
them, ought not something 6 greater than the Temple to excuse these ?
1 Some, however, have imagined that David merely represented himself as being
accompanied by followers.
2 This results both from the fact of the precedent being here adduced and from
1 Sam. xxi. 6 (compared with Lev. xxiv. 8, 9). It is by no means improbable
that this very chapter had been read in the morning Synagogue service of the
day. The service was probably over, because none of the three meals took place
till then.
3 So Maimonides, Pesach. 1 (following, of course, old and established authorities).
Thus, too, it was lawful for the Israelites at the Feast of Tabernacles to carry
their lulabim on the Sabbath (Reland, Antt. Hebr., 486).
4 Even Hillel had some partial insight into this truth. He settled the question
(against the Benl Bathira, and the more Pharisaic Shammai), that if the Passover
day fell on a Sabbath the Paschal lamb might be slain by each Israelite in his
own house, because lambs were slain in the Temple on every Sabbath by the
priests. 0 pei^ov, neuter, not masc, as in the English version (Matt. xii. 6).

334 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
And there was something greater than the Temple here. And then
once more he reminds them that mercy is better than sacrifice. Now
the Sabbath was expressly designed for mercy, and therefore not only
might all acts of mercy be blamelessly performed thereon, but such
acts would be more pleasing to God than all the insensate and self-
satisfied scrupulosities which had turned a rich blessing into a burden
and a snare. The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sab
bath, and therefore the Son of Man is Lord also of the Sabbath.1
In the Codex Bezae, an ancient and valuable manuscript now in
the University Library at Cambridge, there occurs after Luke vi. 5
this remarkable addition — " On the same day, seeing one working on
the Sabbath, He said to him, 0 man, if indeed thou knowest what
thou doest, thou art blessed ; but if thou knowest not, thou art
accursed, and a transgressor of the law." The incident is curious ;
it is preserved for us in this manuscript alone, and it may perhaps
be set aside as apocryphal, or at best as one of those aypacpa doy-
fiara, or "unrecorded sayings" which, like Acts xx. 35, are
attributed to our Lord by tradition only. Yet the story is too strik
ing, too intrinsically probable, to be at once rejected as unauthentic.
Nothing could more clearly illustrate the spirit of our Lord's teach
ing, as it was understood, for instance, by St. Paul." For the mean
ing of the story obviously is — H thy work is of faith, then thou art
acting rightly : if it is not of faith, it is sin.
ii. It was apparently on the day 3 signalized by this bitter attack,
that our Lord again, later in the afternoon, entered the synagogue.
A man — tradition says that he was a stonemason, maimed by an
accident, who had prayed Christ to heal him, that he might not be
1 Mark ii. 27, 28. A similar maxim (doubtless borrowed from this, and borrowed
without profit) is found in the Talmud, " The Sabbath is given to thee, not thou
to the Sabbath." (See Derenbourg, Hist, de Palest. 144.)
2 Compare the closely analogous expressions of St. Paul about eating eiSeaXo-
Bvra (1 Cor. viii. 1). Some authors have rejected this story almost with contempt ;
yet could it be more wrong of the man (presumably for some strong and valid
reason) to work than for the Jews to feast and idle ? " It is better to plough than
to dance," says St. Augustine ; " they rest from good work, they rest not from idle
work " (Enarrat. in Ps. xcii. 2).
3 So it would seem from Matt. xii. 9, 10 ; Mark iii. 1. It is true that the
received text of Luke vi. 6 says iv ETspap dafifSdrap, but probably so vague a
note of time is not intended to be pressed, and indeed the Codex Bezae omits the
ETEpap. St. Luke, only aware that the incident took place on a Sabbath, may
merely mean, " It was also on a Sabbath day that," &c. On the other hand, the
psrafidi ixeiBsv of Matt. xii. 9 is more often used of longer journeys. The
locality of these incidents is not further indicated, but it seems certain that they
took place in Galilee.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 335
forced to beg — was sitting in the synagogue.1 His presence, and
appai'ently the purpose of His presence, was known to all ; and in
the chief seats were Scribes, Pharisees, and Herodians, whose jeal
ous, malignant gaze was fixed on Christ to see what He would do,'
that they might accuse Him. He did not leave them long in doubt.
First He bade the man with the withered hand get up and stand out
in the midst. And then He referred to the adjudication of their own
consciences the question that was in their hearts, formulating it only
in such a way as to show them its real significance. " Is it lawful,"
He asked, "on the Sabbath days to do good or to do evil? to save
life (as I am doing), or to kill (as you in your hearts are wishing to
do) ? " There could be but one answer to such a question, but they
were not there either to search for or to tell the truth. Their sole
object was to watch what He would do, and found upon it a public
charge before the Sanhedrin, or if not, at least to brand Him thence
forth with the open stigma of a Sabbath-breaker. Therefore they
met the question by stolid and impotent silence. But He would not
allow them to escape the verdict of their own better judgment, and
therefore He justified Himself by their own distinct practice, ho less
than by their inability to answer. " Is there one of you," He asked,
" who, if but a single sheep be fallen into a water-pit, will not get
hold of it, and pull it out ? How much then is a man better than a
sheep?" " The argument was unanswerable, and their own conduct
in the matter was undeniable ; but still their fierce silence remained
unbroken. He looked round on them with anger ; a holy indigna
tion burned in His heart, glowed on His countenance, animated His
gesture, rang in His voice, as slowly He SAvept each hard upturned
face with the glance that upbraided them for their malignity and
meanness, for their ignorance and pride ; and then suppressing that
bitter and strong emotion as He turned to do His deed of mercy,
1 This tradition was preserved in the Gospel of the Nazarenes and Ebionites.
" Caementarius eram, manibus victum quaeritans, Precor te, Jesu, ut mihi resti-
tuas sanitatem, ne turpiter mendicem cibos." 26° (Jer. in Matt. xii. 13.)
2 In the Gemara it is only allowed to pull out a sheep if it be in danger of drown
ing ; planks, however, might be put in a less extreme case, and food supplied
(see Reland, Antt. Hebr. 521). So too a man may be only healed if in peril of death
(Joma, viii. 6). Shemaia and Abtalion had not been blamed for breaking the
Sabbath to revive the snow-covered, and benumbed Hillel (v. infr. Excursus III.,
"Jesus and Hillel "). Stier suggests with much probability that many exceptions
may have been permitted because of Christ's words. The institution of the er'ttbh
showed how ready even the Pharisees were to tamper with Sabbatical observance
when it merely suited their convenience (v. infr. Excursus IX., " Hypocrisy of the
Pharisees ").

336 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
He said to the man, " Stretch forth thy hand." Was not the hand
withered? How could he stretch it forth ? The word of Christ sup
plied the power to fulfil His command : he stretched it out, and it
was restored whole as the other.
Thus in every way were His enemies foiled — foiled, in argument,
shamed into silence, thwarted even in their attempt to find some
ground for a criminal accusation. For even in healing the man,
Christ had done absolutely nothing which their worst hostility could
misconstrue into a breach of the Sabbath law. He had not touched
the man ; He had not questioned him ; He had not bid him exercise
his recovered power ; He had but spoken a < word, and not even a
Pharisee could say that to speak a word was an infraction of the Sab
bath, even if the word were followed by miraculous blessing ! They
must have felt how utterly they were defeated, but it only kindled
their rage the more. They were filled with madness,1 and communed
one with another what they might do to Jesus. Hitherto they had
been enemies of the Herodians. They regarded them as half-apos
tate Jews, who accepted the Roman domination," imitated heathen
practices, adopted Sadducean opinions, and had gone so far in their
flattery to the reigning house that they had blasphemously tried to
represent Herod the Great as the promised Messiah. But now their
old enmities were reconciled in their mad rage against a common
foe. Something — perhaps the fear of Antipas, perhaps political
suspicion, perhaps the mere natural hatred of worldlings and rene
gades against the sweet and noble doctrines which shamed their lives
— had recently added these Herodians to the number of the Saviour's
persecutors. As Galilee was the chief centre of Christ's activity, the
Jerusalem Pharisees were glad to avail themselves of any aid from
the Galilean tetrarch and his followers. They took common counsel
how they might destroy by violence the Prophet whom they could
nether refute by reasoning, nor circumvent by law.
This enmity of the leaders had not yet estranged from Christ the
minds of the multitude. It made it desirable, however, for Him to
move to another place," because He would " neither strive nor cry,
1 Luke vi. 11, dvoia, a kind of senseless rage.
2 The very form of the name, Herodiani, probably indicates its Roman origin ;
I only say " probably," because Lipsius, Tleber den Ursprung und den Aeltesten
Gebrauch des Ghristennamens, argues that the termination is an instance of the
rvitoi 'Adiavoi common in barbarian, and particularly Asiatic gentile or geo
graphical adjectives.
3 Matt. xii. 15 (Isa. xiii. 2). It is not necessarily implied that He left Galilee;
or if He did, the events which follow may well have occurred before He was fully
aware of the extent to which the virulence of the Pharisaic party had carried them.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 337
neither should any man hear His voice in the streets," and the hour
was not yet come when he should " send forth judgment to victory."
But before His departure there occurred scenes yet more violent, and
outbreaks of fury against Him yet more marked and dangerous.
Every day it became more and more necessary to show that the rift
between Himself and the religious leaders of His nation was deep
and final ; every day it became more and more necessary to expose
the hypocritical formalism which pervaded their doctrines, and which
was but the efflorescence of a fatal and deeply-seated plague.
6. His first distinct denunciation of the principles that lay at the
very basis of the Pharisaic system was caused by another combined
attempt of the Jerusalem scribes to damage the position of His disci
ples.1 On some occasion they had observed that the disciples had
sat down to a meal without previous ablutions. Now these ablutions
were insisted upon with special solemnity by the Oral Tradition.
The Jews of later times' related with intense admiration how the
Rabbi Akiba, when imprisoned and furnished with only sufficient
water to maintain life, preferred to die of starvation rather than eat
without the proper washings." The Pharisees, therefore, coming up
to Jesus as usual in a body, ask Him, with a swelling sense of self-
importance at the justice of their reproach, "Why do thy disciples
transgress the tradition of the elders? for they wash not their hands
when they eat bread."
Before giving our Lord's reply, St. Mark pauses to tell us that the
traditional ablutions observed by the Pharisees and all the leading
Jews were extremely elaborate and numerous. Before every meal,
and at every return from market,3 they washed " with the fist," 4 and

1 Matt. xv. 1—20 ; Mark vii. 1—23.
2 Buxtorf, Syn. Jud., p. 236. For Rabbinical rules about ablutions, and their
minutiae, see Schwab's Beraehdth, pp. 309, 398, 436 — 438. They occupy a large
portion of the sixth seder of the Talmud, which is called Tahardth, or " Purifica
tions," — especially the tracts Mikvadth, "lavers and baths," and Yadaim, or
' hand- washings," in four chapters. Yet the Talmudists admit that hand-washing
(nitilath yadaim) is not necessary if the hands be clean. (Pieritz, Gosp. from
Rabbinic Point of View, p. 111.)
3 Some render Mark vii. 4, " And after market they do not eat (what they have
purchased) until they have washed it." This is not impossible, but does not seem
likely, although fiaitridaovrai (complete immersions nillidth) implies more than
viipGpvrai (" wash the hands") in verse 3.
4 itvypy, i. e., thoroughly scrubbing each hand with the closed fist ; the expres
sion seems to be borrowed from some uses of the Hebrew rP->N, and the Syriac
Version uses a similar word to render iitipsXaoi "carefully" in Luke xv. 8.
Epiphanius (Haer. xv. ad in) uses the word in the sense of " frequently," and in
43

338 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. i
if no water was at hand a man was obliged to go at least four miles
to search for it. Besides this there were precise rules for the wash
ing of all cups and sextarii1 and banquet-couches (triclinia) and
brazen vessels. The treatise Shulchan-Aruk, or " Table arranged,"
a compendium of Rabbinical usages drawn up by Josef Karo in
1567, contains no less than twenty-six prayers by which these wash
ings were accompanied. To neglect them was as bad as homicide,
and involved a forfeiture of eternal life. And yet the disciples
dared to eat with " common " (that is, with unwashen) hands !
As usual, our Lord at once made common cause with His disci
ples, and did not leave them, in their simplicity and ignorance, to be
overawed by the attack of these stately and sanctimonious critics.
He answered their question by a far graver one. " Why," He said,
do you too violate the commandment of God by this ' tradition ' of
yours? For God's command was 'Honor thy father and thy
mother ; ' but your gloss is, instead of giving to father and mother,
a man may simply give the sum intended for their support to the
sacred treasury, and say, 'It is Corban] and then" — he is exempt
the Vulgate it is rendered crebro, so that Erasmus suggested a reading itvxvrj (?).
Others follow Theophylact in making it mean " up to the elbow" (d%pi
dyxaovoi). The view given above is supported by the Rabbinical passages in
Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. ad loc. (See Schleusner, Lex. Nov. Test)
1 is 6 tgov (Mark vii. 4), one of St. Mark's Latinisms. Earthen vessels, if in any
way rendered ceremonially unclean, were not washed, but broken (Lev. xv. 12).
They were so particular about the sacred vessels that one day they washed the
golden candlestick, and the Sadducees remarked to them " that soon they would
think it necessary to wash the sun." (Chagiga, iii. 8 ; Gratz, Gesch. d. Jud. iii.
458). The first and second tracts of the Seder Taliardth, viz., the thirty chapters
of Kelim (vessels) and the eighteen of Oholdth (tents), deal with the defilements
and purifications of dwellings, utensils, &c. Wotton (Mishna, i. 160) justly con
siders this the most Pharisaic " order " of the entire Mishna.
2 Lightfoot's note on this passage is particularly valuable. He shows that our
Lord is quoting a regular formula which occurs often in the tracts Nedarim and
Nezirdth, both of which deal with vows. In Matt. xv. 6 the sentence remains
thus unfinished ; it is broken off by aposiopesis, as though our Lord shrank from
the disgraceful inferences which such a son would annex to his words, and pre
ferred to substitute for them His own stronger declaration that their iniquitous
diversion of natural charities into the channels of pious ostentation would of course
undermine all parental authority. T^"J? means "a gift." It is rendered Saopov
in Jos. Antt. iv. 4, § 4 ; B. J. ii. 9, § 4. To say the word " corban," however rashly
and inconsiderately, involved a konam, or vow, and some of the Rabbis had ex
pressly taught that a vow superseded the necessity of obedience to the fifth com
mandment. The explanation of this and the following verse seems to be that to
say, " Be it corban," was a sort of imprecation by the use of which a thing was
tabooed to any one else ; and that if it had been said to a parent even in haste or
anger, the Rabbis still treated it as irrevocable.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 339
from any further burden in their support ! And many such things
ye do. Ye hypocrites ! " — it was the first time that our Lord had
thus sternly rebuked them — "finely1 do ye abolish and obliterate
the commandment of God by your traditions y and well did Isaiah
prophesy of you, ' This people honoreth me with their lips, but their
heart is far from me ; but in vain do they worship me, teaching for
doctrines the commandment of men.' " "
This was not only a defence of the disciples — because it showed
that they merely neglected a body of regulations 3 which were in
themselves so opposed to the very letter of the sacred law as, in
many cases, to be more honored in the breach than the observance —
but it was the open rebuke of One who assumed a superior and
fearless authority, and a distinct reprobation of a system which
guided all the actions of the Rabbinic caste, and was more rever
enced than the Pentateuch itself. The quintessence of that system
was to sacrifice the spirit to the letter, which, apart from that spirit,
was more than valueless ; and to sacrifice the letter itself to mere
1 xaXaoi dBETEiTE (Mark vii. 9), used in strong irony. The Babha Kama, or
" first gate," and two following treatises of the Mishna are on compensations, &c,
and abound in such traditions which supersede the Law. Another remarkable
instance of doing away with the commandment by tradition was the unanimous
exposition of the lex talionis (Exod. xxi. 24 ; Deut. xix. 12) as meaning nothing
more than a fine. I, of course, see that the dislike to the lex talionis was due to
a certain moral progress through which the Greeks and Teutons also passed ; but
to profess unbounded and supersitious adoration for the mere dead letter of a law,
and then to do away with its clearest enactments by mere quibbles and fictions,
was obvious hypocrisy.
2 The iniquity which in the Middle Ages often extorted gifts of property for
Church purposes from the ghastly terrors of dying sinners was a itapdSodii as
bad as, perhaps worse than, that which Christ denounces.
3 As it is to this day. Dr. Frankl says of the Ashkenazim, and Perushim at
Jerusalem, that " they never study the Bible, and derive all their knowledge of
it from the Talmud " (p. 34). [The Karaites, however, reject this doctrine of the
Mekebalim, and hold to the Bible only (id,, p. 46).] " He that has learned the
Scripture, and not the Mishna, is a blockhead." " The Law is like salt, the Mishna
like pepper, the Gemara like balmy spice." (See many such passages quoted
from the Masseketh Soferim, and elsewhere, in Buxtorf, Synag. Jud., ch. iii.;
Carpzov. App. Gret., p. 563.) — R. Menasseh Ben Israel compared the Law to the
body, the Mishna to the soul, the Cabbala to the soul of the soul. (Allen's Mod.
ludaism, p. 74.) — The Pirke AbMth ordains that at five a child should study the
Bible, at ten the Mishna, at fifteen the Gemara. God Himself is represented as
studying the Talmud, and.repeating the decisions of the Rabbis 1 (Chagiga, p. 15,
ap. Bartolocc. iii. 410). — In a passage of the Babha Metsia, f. 59, which almost
reaches sublimity in its colossal sense of conviction, the decisions of the wise are
upheld not only against miracles, but even against a voice from heaven ! The
passage has been often quoted. (See Cohen, Les DHcides, or Schwab's Berachdth,
p. 72.)

340 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
inferences from it which were absolutely pernicious. The Jews
distinguished between the written Law (Torah Shebeketeh) and the
traditional Law, or " Law upon the fip " (Torah Sheheal pih) ; and
the latter was asserted, by its more extravagant votaries, to have
been orally delivered by God to Moses, and orally transmitted by
him through a succession of elders. On it is founded the Talmud
(or "doctrine"), which consists of the Mishna (or "repetition") of
the Law, and the Gemara, or " supplement " to it ; and so extrava
gant did the reverence for the Talmud become, that it was said to
be, in relation to the Law, as wine to water; to read the Scriptures
was a matter of indifference, but to read the Mishna was meritorious,
and to read the Gemara would be to receive the richest recompense.1
And it was this grandiose system of revered commentary and pious
custom which Jesus now so completely discountenanced, as not only
to defend the neglect of it, but even openly to condemn and repudi
ate its most established principles. He thus consigned to oblivion
and indifference the entire paraphernalia of Hagaddth (" legends ")
and HalacMth (" rules "), which, though up to that period it had not
been committed to writing, was yet devoutly cherished in the mem
ory of the learned, and constituted the very treasury of Rabbinic
wisdom. Nor was this all ; not content with shattering the very bases of
their external religion, He even taught to the multitude doctrines
which would undermine their entire authority — doctrines which
would tend to bring their vaunted wisdom into utter discredit. The
supremacy of his disapproval was in exact proportion to the bound
lessness of their own arrogant self-assertion ; and turning away from
them as if they were hopeless, He summoned the multitude, whom
they had trained to look up to them as little gods, and spoke these
short and weighty words :
" Hear me, all of you, and understand ! Not that which goeth
1 They asserted that God had taught Moses the Law by day, and the Mishna by
night (Buxtorf, Syn. Jud. iii.). The Mishna was supposed to consist of five main
elements : — 1. Traditional interpretations. 2. Undisputed constitutions. 3. Ac
cepted opinions derived from the thirteen ways of reasoning. 4. Decrees of
Prophets and Rabbis. 5. Legal precedents. (Maimon. Porta Mosis. See Ether-
idge, Hebr. Lit., p. 119.) — The object of the Gemara was to explain the Mishna,
(1) lexically, (2) dogmatically, (3) inferentially, (4) mystically. According to Aben
Ezra, R. Sol. Jarchi, R. Bechai, Maimonides, &c, the Law was the " Statutes "
(D^Pl). and the Oral Law the "judgments" (QiaSE'D) of Deut. iv. 14. R. Josh.
Ben Levi said that in Exod. xxiv. 12 " the Tables" meant the Decalogue; "the
Law," the Pentateuch ; " commandments," the Mishna; " which I have written,"
the Prophets and Hagiographa ; and ''that thou mightest teach them," the Gem
ara (Berachdth, f. 5 a). (Schwab, p. 234.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 341
into the mouth defileth the man ; but that which cometh out of the
mouth, that defileth a man." '
The Pharisees were bitterly offended by this saying, as well indeed
they might be. Condemnatory as it was of the too common sacer
dotal infatuation for all that is merely ceremonial, that utterance of
Jesus should have been the final death-knell of that superfluity of
voluntary ceremonialism for which one of the Fathers coins the
inimitable word e'deXon-epiffGodpr/ffKeia?''1 His disciples were not
slow to inform Him of the indignation which His words had caused,
for they probably retained a large share of the popular awe for
the leading sect. But the reply of Jesus was an expression of
calm indifference to earthly judgment, a reference of all worth to the
sole judgment of God as shown in the slow ripening of events.
" Every plant which my Heavenly Father hath not planted shall be
rooted up. Let them alone. They be blind leaders of the blind ;
and if the blind lead the blind, shall they not both fall into the ditch ? "
A little later, when they were in-doors and alone, Peter ventured
to ask for an explanation of the words which He had uttered so
emphatically to the multitude. Jesus gently blamed the want of
comprehension among His Apostles, but showed them, in teaching
of deep significance, that man's food does but affect his material struc
ture, and does not enter into his heart, or touch his real being ; but
that " from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts,
adulteries, fornications, murders, theft, covetousness, wickedness,
deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness."
Evil thoughts — like one tiny rill of evil, and then the burst of all
that black overwhelming torrent !
" These are the things which defile a man ; but to eat with unwashen
hands defileth not a man." "
1 There is 'a singular and striking parallel to these words in Philo, De Opif.
Mundi, i. 29. " There enter into the mouth," he says, expanding a saying of Plato,
" meats and drinks, corruptible nourishment of a corruptible body ; but there- go
forth from it words, immortal laws of an immortal soul, by means of which is
governed the reasonable life." Compare too the fragment of Democritus, av Si
davrov evSoBev avoids itoixiXov Ti xai itoXvitaBii xaxmv rap.Eiov
Evpijdsii . . . ovx e%goBev iitippEovTGOv, dXX Goditsp iyysiovi xai
dvrdxBovai itrjydi ixovraov, di dvirjdiv r) xaxia.'2'2
3 There is a well-known difficulty about Mark vii. 19, where xaBapit,ov 253 is
both ungrammatical and gives a very dubious sense. If with almost all the best
MSS. (X, A, B, E, F, L, &c.) we read xaBapK,mv ,254 we may then connect it with
the previous Xiyei (ver. 18) — i.e. "He said this . . . purging, rendering clean,
all meats " (cf. Acts xi. 5 — 9). It must, however, be admitted that the order of
the words is a serious stumbling-block to this excellent interpretation. The only
other way of explaining it is to make xaBapiZaov agree with dcpsSpoov:266

342 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXTT.

DEEPENING OPPOSITION.

"Si ignobilis, si jnglorius, si inhonorabilis, Christus erit mens."25' — Tbbt.
Contr. Mare. iii. 17.
Theee was to be one more day of opposition — more bitter, more
dangerous, more personal, more implacable — one day of open and
final rupture between Jesus and the Pharisaic spies from Jerusalem
— before He yielded for a time to the deadly hatred of His enemies,
and retired to find in heathen countries the rest which He could find
no longer in the rich fields and on the green hills of Gennesareth.
There were but few days of His earthly life which passed through
a series of more heart-shaking agitations than the one which we shall
now describe.1
Jesus was engaged in solitary prayer, probably at early dawn, and
in one of the towns which formed the chief theatre of His Gafilsean
ministry. While they saw TTim standing there with His eyes, uplifted
to heaven — for standing, not kneeling, was and is the common Ori
ental attitude in prayer — the disciples remained at a reverent dis
tance ; but when His orisons were over, they came to Him with the
natural entreaty that He would teach them to pray, as John also
taught his disciples. He at once granted their request, and taught
them that short and perfect petition which has thenceforth been the
choicest heritage of every Christian liturgy, and the model on which
all our best and most acceptable prayers are formed. He had, indeed,
already used it in the Sermon on the Mount, but we may be deeply
thankful that for the sake of His asking disciples He here brought it
into greater and more separate prominence. Some, indeed, of the
separate clauses may already have existed, at least in germ, among
1 It seems clear from the order in which these scenes are narrated in Matt. xii.
22, seqq.; Mark iii. 11, seqq., that they took place in Galilee, and if so they cannot
well be assigned to any other period than the present. In St. Luke they occur in
the great episode (ix. 51 — xviii. 34) ; but the hypothesis that this episode narrates
the incidents of one or three journeys only is not tenable, and the order suggested
by the other Evangelists seems here to be the more probable. The only note of
time used by St. Luke is the very vagnest of all, " And it came to pass ; " and the
note of place is equally so, " in a certain place."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 343
the Jewish forms of prayer ; since they resemble expressions which
are found in the Talmud, and which we have no reason to suppose
were borrowed from Christians.1 But never before had all that was
best and purest in a nation Is prayers been thus collected into one
noble and incomparable petition — a petition which combines all that
the heart of man, taught by the Spirit of God, had found most need
ful for the satisfaction of its truest aspirations. In the mingled love
and reverence with which it teaches us to approach our Father in
heaven — in the spirituality with which it leads us to seek first the
kingdom of God and His righteousness — in the spirit of universal
charity and forgiveness which it inculcates — in that plural form
throughout it, which is meant to show us that selfishness must be
absolutely and for ever excluded from our petitions, and that no man
can come to God as his Father without acknowledging that his worst
enemies are also God's children — in the fact that of its seven peti
tions one, and one only, is for any earthly blessing, and even that
one is only for earthly blessings in their simplest form — in the man
ner in which it discountenances all the vain repetitions and extrava
gant self-tortures with which so many fanatic worshippers have
believed that God could be propitiated — even in that exquisite brev
ity which shows us how little God desires that prayer should be made
a burden and weariness — it is, indeed, what the Fathers have called
it, a breviarium Hvangelii — the pearl of prayers.
Not less divine were the earnest and simple words which followed
it, and which taught the disciples that men ought always to pray and
not to faint, since, if importunity prevails over the selfishness of man,
earnestness must be all-powerful with the righteousness of God.
Jesus impressed upon them the lesson that if human affection can be
trusted to give only useful and kindly gifts, the love of the Great
Father who loves us all, will, much more certainly, give His best
and highes't gift — even the gift of the Holy Spirit — to all that ask
Him. And with what exquisite yet vivid graeiousness are these great les
sons inculcated ! Had they been delivered in the dull, dry, didactic
style of most moral teaching, how could they have touched the
hearts, or warmed the imaginations, or fixed themselves indelibly
upon the memories of those who heard them ? But instead of being
clothed in scholastic pedantisms, they were conveyed in a little tale
1 For the proof of this, and for the Jewish prayers- which most resemble (but
at how wide an interval 1 ) the Lord's prayer, see Gfrorer, Jahrh. des Heils, ii. 169,
and the parallels adduced on Matt. vi. 9 by Lightfoot, Schottgen, and Wetstein.

344 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
founded on the most commonplace incidents of daily life, and of a
daily life full of simplicity and poverty. Journeying at night to
avoid the burning heat, a man arrives at a friend's house. The host
is poor, and has nothing for him ; yet, because even at that late hour
he will not neglect the duties of hospitality, he gets up, and goes to
the house of another friend to borrow three loaves. But this other
is in bed ; his little children are with him ; his house is locked and
barred. To the gentle and earnest entreaty he answers crossly and
roughly 1 from within, " Trouble me not." But his friend knows
that he has come on a good errand, and he persists in knocking,
till at last, not from kind motives, but because of his pertinacity," the
man gets up and gives him all that he requires. " Even so," it has
been beautifully observed, " when the heart which has been away on
a journey, suddenly at midnight (i. e., the time of greatest darkness)
returns home to us — that is, comes to itself and feels hunger — and
we have nothing wherewith to satisfy it, God requires of us bold)
importunate faith." If such persistency conquers the reluctance of
ungracious man, how much more shall it prevail with One who loves
us better than we ourselves, and who is even more ready to hear than
we to pray !
It has been well observed that the narrative of the life of Christ
on earth is full of lights and shadows — one brief period, or even one
day, starting at times into strong relief, while at other times whole
periods are passed over in unbroken silence. But we forget — and
if we bear this in mind, there will be nothing to startle us in this
phenomenon of the Gospel record — we forget how large and how
necessary a portion of His work it was to teach and train His imme
diate Apostles for the future conversion of the world. When we
compare what the Apostles were when Jesus called them — simple
and noble indeed, but ignorant, and timid, and slow of heart to
believe — with what they became when He had departed from them,
and shed the gift of His Holy Spirit into their hearts, then we shall
see how little intermission there could have been in His beneficent
activity, even during the periods in which His discourses were deliv
ered to those only who lived in the very light of His divine person
ality. Blessed indeed were they above kings and prophets, blessed
beyond all who have ever lived in the richness of their privilege,
since they could share His inmost thoughts, and watch in all its
¦He does not return the greeting cpiXs; the expression, Mr) poi xoitovi
ildpEXE, "don't fash me," is an impatient one: the door XExXsidrai, "has been
shut for the night :" ov Svvapai, " I can't," meaning " I won't."
' dvaiSsiav, " shamelessness," " unblushing persistence."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 345
angelic sweetness and simplicity the daily spectacle of those " sinless
years." But if this blessing was specially accorded to them, it was
not for their own sakes, but for the sake of that world which it was
their mission to elevate from despair and wickedness into purity and
sober-mindedness and truth — for the sake of those holy hearts who
were henceforth to enjoy a Presence nearer, though spiritual, than if,
with the Apostles, they could have climbed- with Him the lonely hills,
or walked beside Him as He paced at evening beside the limpid lake.
The day which had begun with that lesson of loving and confiding
prayer was not destined to proceed thus calmly. Few days of His
life during these years can have passed without His being brought
into distressing contact with the evidences of human sin and human
suffering ; but on this day the spectacle was brought before Him in
its wildest and most terrible form. A man blind and dumb and
mad, from those strange unaccountable influences which the universal
belief attributed to demoniac possession, was brought before Him.
Jesus would not leave him a helpless victim to the powers of evil.
By His look and by His word He released the miserable sufferer
from the horrible oppression — calmed, healed, restored him — " inso
much that the blind and dumb both spake and saw."
It appears from our Lord's own subsequent words, that there
existed among the Jews certain forms of exorcism,1 which to a cer
tain extent, at any rate, were efficacious ; but there are traces that
the cures so effected were only attempted in milder and simpler cases.
The dissolution of so hideous a spell as that which had bound this
man — the power to pour light on the filmed eyeball, and to restore
speech to the cramped tongue, and intelligence to the bewildered
soul — was something that the people had never witnessed. The
miracle produced a thrill of astonishment, a burst of unconcealed
admiration. For the first time they openly debated whether He who
had such power could be any other than their expected Deliverer.
" Can this man," they incredulously asked, " can he be the Son of
David?"" His enemies could not deny that a great miracle had been per
formed, and since it did not convert, it only hardened and maddened
them. But how could they dissipate the deep impression which it
had made on the minds of the amazed spectators ? The Scribes who
1 Cf. Acts xix. 13. — An energetic formula used by the Jewish exorcists is pre
served in Bab. Shabbath, 67 a. (Gfrorer, i. 413.)
2 Matt. ix. 32; xii. 23 (Luke xi. 15). Mr/n ovrdi idn; the words express
incredulous surprise — notnonnef batnumf Cf. John viii. 22, prJTi ditoxrevEi
kavrov. 44

346 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
came from Jerusalem, more astute and ready than their simple Gal-
ilaean brethren, at once invented a ready device for this purpose.
" This fellow hath Beelzebul " — such was their notable and insolent
solution of the difficulty, " and it is only by the prince of the devils
that He casteth out the devils." 1 Strange that the ready answer did
not spring to every lip, as it did afterwards to the lips of some .who
heard the same charge brought against Him in Jerusalem, " These
are not the words of one that hath a devil." But the people of Gal
ilee were credulous and ignorant ; these grave and reverend inquisi
tors from the Holy City possessed an immense and hereditary ascend
ancy over their simple understandings, and, offended as they had
been more than once by the words of Jesus, their whole minds were
bewildered with a doubt. The awfulness of His personal ascendancy
— the felt presence, even amid His tenderest condescensions, of some
thing more than human — His power of reading the thoughts — the
ceaseless and sleepless energy of His beneficence — the strange terror
which He inspired in the poor demoniacs — the speech which some
times rose into impassioned energy of denunciation, and sometimes,
by its softness and beauty, held them hushed as infants at the mother's
breast — the revulsion of their unbelieving hearts against that new
world of fears and hopes which He preached to them as the kingdom
of God — in a word, the shuddering sense that in some way His
mere look and presence placed them in a nearer relation than they
had ever been before with the Unseen World — all this, as it had
not prepared them to accept the truth, tended from the first to leave
1 Mark iii. 22 ; Matt. xii. 24. The ovroi is intentionally contemptuous. Beel-
zebuZ (not Beelzebub, which is derived from the versions) is almost certainly the
right reading (X, B, &c). But the form and true meaning of the name are en
veloped in obscurity. Beelzebub is mentioned as god of Ekron in 2 Kings i. 2,
and both the LXX. and Josephus (Antt. ix. 2, § 1) understood this to mean "lord
of flies " (BdaX pviav). There may have been nothing derisive in such a desig
nation, as some even of the Greek deities were worshipped as averters of pestilent
insects (cf . Zeus Apomuios, Hercules Kornopion and Ipuktonos, Apollo Smintheus,
&c). But Beelzebul may also mean "lord of the (celestial) habitation," i.e.,
" prince of the air " (Eph. ii. 2), and if so there is a sort of play on the word in the
oixoSEditoTr/i of Matt. x. 25. On the other hand, the name may be " lord of
dung," partly from the belief that demons haunted foul places (Matt. xii. 43 ;
GfrSrer, Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 139). This would be in accordance with those insult
ing paronomasias which the Jews, from a literal acceptation of Exod. xxiii. 13,
&c, delighted to apply to heathen idols (cf. Kir Cheres, " city of destruction,"
for Kir Heres ; Bethaven for Bethel ; Bar-coziba, " son of a lie," for Bar-chocba,
" son of a star," &c. See my Chapters on Language, p. 277). The accusation is
practically the same as that of the Talmudists, that the miracles of Jesus were
wrought by magic learnt in Egypt (Bab. Shab., f. 104, 2 ; 43, 1). " Latrant catuli
isti, sicut a canibus his edocti fuerunt." 25' (Lightfoot, ad loc)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 347
them the ready victims of insolent, blasphemous, and authoritative
falsehood. And therefore, in a few calm words, Jesus shattered the hideous
sophism to atoms. He showed them the gross absurdity of supposing
that Satan could be his own enemy. Using an irresistible argumen-
tum ad hominem, He convicted them by an appeal to the exorcisms
so freely, but almost ineffectually, professed by themselves and their
pupils. And when He had thus showed that the power which He
exercised must be at once superior to Satan and contrary to Satan,
and must therefore be spiritual and divine, He warned them of the
awful sinfulness and peril of this their blasphemy against the Holy
Spirit of God, and how nearly it bordered on the verge of that sin
which alone, of all sins, could neither here nor hereafter be forgiven.
And then, after these dim and mysterious warnings, speaking to them
in language of yet plainer significance, He turned the light of truth
into their raging and hypocritical hearts, and showed them how this
Dead Sea fruit of falsehood and calumny could only spring from
roots and fibres of bidden bitterness ; how only from evil treasures hid
deep in darkness, where the very source of light was quenched,, could
be produced these dark imaginings of their serpentine malignity.1
Lastly, and with a note of warning which has never since ceased to
vibrate, He warned them that the words of man reveal the true
nature of the heart within, and that for those, as for all other false
and lightly uttered words of idle wickedness, they should give account
at the last day." The weight and majesty of these words — the awful
solemnity of the admonition which they conveyed — seem for a time
to have reduced the Pharisees to silence, and to have checked the
reiteration of their absurd and audacious blasphemy. And in the
hush that ensued some woman of the company, in an uncontrollable
enthusiasm of admiration — accustomed indeed to reverence these
long-robed Pharisees, with their fringes and phylacteries, but feeling
to the depth of her heart on how lofty a height above them the
Speaker stood — exclaimed to Him in a loud voice,3 so that all could
hear —
" Blessed is the womb that bare Thee, and the breasts * that Thou
hast sucked."
"Yea" — or as we may render it — "Nay, rather," he answered,
'blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it."
1 Matt. xii. 34, rEvvjjpara ixiSvcSv.
2 Compare Matt. xii. 25—37 ; Mark iii. 22—30 ; Luke xi. 17—36.
3 Luke xi. 27, iitdpada cpaovrjv.
4 Idem, padroi.

348 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
The woman, with all the deep and passionate affection of her sex,
had cried, How blest must be the mother of such a Son ! and blessed
indeed that mother was, and blessed was the fruit of her womb —
blessed she was among women, and blessed because she believed : '
yet hers was no exclusive blessedness; there is a blessedness yet
deeper and loftier, the blessedness of obedience to the Word of God.
" How many women," says St. Chrysostom," " have blessed that Holy
Yirgin, and desired to be such a mother as she was ! What hinders
them ? Christ has made for us a wide way to this happiness, and
not only women, but men may tread it — the way of obedience;
this it is which makes such a mother, not the throes of parturition."
But the Pharisees, though baffled for a moment, did not intend to
leave Jesus long in peace. He had spoken to them in language of
lofty warning, nay, even of stern rebuke — to them, the leaders and
religious teachers of His time and country. What gave such bold
ness to one — a mere "empty cistern," a mere am ha-arets — who
had but just emerged from the obscure and ignorant labors of a pro
vincial artisan ? how did He dare thus to address them ? Let Him
at least show them some sign — some sign from heaven, no mere
exorcism or act of healing, but some great, indisputable, decisive sign
of His authority. " Master, we would see a sign from Thee."
It was the old question which had assailed Him at His very earli
est ministry, " What sign showest Thou unto us, seeing that Thou
doest these things? " 3
To such appeals, made only to insult and tempt — made by men
who, unconvinced and unsoftened, had just seen a mighty sign, and
had attributed it at once without a blush to demoniac agency — made,
not from hearts of faith, but out of curiosity, and hatred, and unbe
lief — Jesus always turned a deaf ear. The Divine does not conde
scend to limit the display of its powers by the conditions of finite
criticism, nor is it conformable to the council of God to effect the
'conversion of human souls by their mere astonishment at external
6igns. Had Jesus given them a sign from heaven, is it likely that it
would have produced any effect on the spiritual children of ancestors
who, according to their own accepted history, in the very sight, nay,
under the very precipices of the burning hill, had sat down to eat
and to drink, and risen up to play ? Would it have had any perma
nent significance for the moral heirs of those who were taunted by

1 Luke i. 42—45.
2 Quoted by Bishop Wordsworth on Matt. xii. 48.
3 John ii. 18.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 349
their own prophets with having taken up the tabernacles of Moloch,
and the star of their God Remphan, though they were guided by the
fiery pillar, and quenched their thirst from the smitten rock ? Signs
they had seen and wonders in abundance, and now they were seeing
the highest sign of a Sinless Life, and yet they did but rebel and
blaspheme the more. No sign should be given, then, save in prophe
cies which they could not understand. " That evil and adulterous
generation," He exclaimed, turning to the densely crowded multitude,
" should have no sign save the sign of Jonah the prophet. Saved after
a day and night amid the dark and tempestuous seas, he had been
a sign to the Ninevites ; so should the Son of Man be saved from
the heart of the earth.1 And those men of Nineveh, who repented
at the preaching of Jonah, and the Queen of Sheba, who came from
the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, should alike
rise up in the judgment and condemn a generation that despised and
rejected one greater than Solomon or than Jonah. For that genera
tion had received every blessing : by the Babylonian captivity, by the
Maccabaean revival, by the wise and noble rule of the Asmonaean
princes, recently by the preaching of John, the evil spirit of idolatry
and rebellion which distempered their fathers had been cast out of
them ; its old abode had been swept and garnished by the proprieties
of Pharisees, and the scrupulosities of Scribes ; but, alas ! no good
spirit had been invited to occupy the empty shrine, and now the old
unclean possessor had returned with seven spirits more wicked than
himself, and their last state was worse than the first.
His discourse was broken at this point by a sudden interruption."
News had again reached His family that he was surrounded by a
dense throng, and was speaking words more strange and terrible than
ever He had been known to utter ; above all, that He had repudi
ated with open scorn, and denounced with uncompromising indigna
tion, the great teachers who had been expressly sent from Jerusalem
to watch His words. Alarm seized them ; perhaps their informant
had whispered to them the dread calumny which had thus called forth
His stern rebukes. From the fittle which we can learn of His breth
ren, we infer that they were Hebrews of the Hebrews, and likely to
be intensely influenced by Rabbinical and sacerdotal authority ; as
1 The " three days and three nights " of Matt. xii. 40, mean little more than a
vvxBr/pspov, or ™i* — e.g., from Friday evening to Sunday morning. This
strange idiom has caused needless difficulties. See the passages quoted by
Lightfoot (Hor. Hebr. ad loe.). Cf. 1 Sam. xxx. 12, 13 ; 2 Chron. x. 5, 12 ; Deut.
xiv. 28 ; xxvi. 12.
° Matt. xii. 46, "En avrov XaXovvroi.

350 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
yet, too, they either did not believe on Him, or regarded His claims
in a very imperfect light. Is not the time again come for them to
interfere ? can they not save Jesus, on whom they looked as their
Jesus, from Himself? can they not exercise over Him such influ
ence as shall save Him from the deadly perils to which His present
teaching would obviously expose Him? can they not use towards
Him such gentle control as should hurry Him away for a time into
some region of secrecy and safety ? They could not, indeed, reach
Him in the crowd, but they could get some one to call His attention
to their presence. Suddenly He is informed by one of His audience
— " Behold, Thy mother and Thy brethren stand without, desiring
to speak with Thee." Alas ! had they not yet learnt that if they
would not enter, their sole right place was to stand without ? that
His hour was now come to pass far beyond the circle of mere human
relationship, infinitely above the control of human brethren ? Must
their bold intrusive spirit receive one more check ? It was even so ;
but the check should be given gently, and so as to be an infinite com
fort to others. " Who is My mother ? " He said to the man who had
spoken, " and who are My brethren ? " And then stretching forth
His hand towards His disciples, He said, " Behold My mother and
My brethren ! For whosoever shall do the will of My Father which
is in heaven, the same is My brother, and sister, and mother ! "

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 351

CHAPTER XXXIIL
THE DAT OF CONFLICT.
'EyyvS paxocipai, iyyvi ©sou.268 — Ignat. Ad
Up to this point the events of this great day had been sufficiently
agitating, but they were followed by circumstances yet more painful
and exciting.
The time for the mid-day meal had arrived, and a Pharisee asked
Him to come and lunch at his house.' There was extremely little
hospitality or courtesy in the invitation. If not offered in downright
hostility and bad faith — as we know was the case with similar
Pharisaic invitations — its motive at the best was but curiosity to see
more of the new Teacher, or a vanity which prompted him to
patronize so prominent a guest. And Jesus, on entering, found
Himself, not among publicans and sinners, where he could soothe,
and teach, and bless — not among the poor to whom He could preach
the kingdom of heaven — not among friends and disciples who
listened with deep and loving reverence to His words — but among
the cold, hard, threatening faces, the sneers and frowns, of haughty
rivals and open enemies. The Apostles do not seem to have been
invited. There was no sympathy of a Thomas to sustain Him, no
gentleness of a Nathanael to encourage Him, no ardor of a Peter to
defend, no beloved John to lean his head upon His breast. Scribe,
Lawyer, and Pharisee, the guests ostentatiously performed their
artistic ablutions, and then — each with extreme regard for his own
precedence — swept to their places at the board. With no such
elaborate and fantastic ceremonies, Jesus, as soon as He entered,
reclined at the table." It was a short and trivial meal, and outside
thronged the dense multitude, hungering still and thirsting for the
words of eternal life. He did not choose, therefore, to create idle
'Not "to dine with him " (which would be oitaoi SEiitvrfdif), but rather " to
lunch (apidTifdp) at his house." The dpidrov, or morning meal, was a slight
repast about twelve in the day, more like the French dejeuner than the English
" breakfast," far slighter than the Ssiitvov. Lange has understood the scenes of
this chapter better than any other commentator (Leben Jesu, iii. v. 7).
2 Luke xi. 37, EideXBGOv ave'itsdEV.

352 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
delays and countenance a needless ritualism by washings, which at
that moment happened to be quite superfluous, and to which a
foolish and pseudo-religious importance was attached,
Instantly the supercilious astonishment of the host expressed itself
in his countenance ; and, doubtless, the lifted eyebrows and depre
ciating gestures of those unsympathizing guests showed as much as
they dared to show of their disapproval and contempt. They were
forgetting utterly who He was, and what He had done. Spies and
calumniators from the first, they were now debasing even their
pretentious and patronizing hospitality into fresh opportunity for
treacherous conspiracy. The time was come for yet plainer lan
guage, for yet more unmeasured indignation ; and He did not spare
them. He exposed, in words which were no parables and could not
be mistaken, the extent to which their outward cleanliness was but
the thin film which covered their inward wickedness and greed. He
denounced their contemptible scrupulosity in the tithing of potherbs,
their flagrant neglect of essential virtues ; the cant, the ambition, the
publicity, the ostentation of their outward orthodoxy, the deathful
corruption of their inmost hearts. Hidden graves were they over
which men walk, and, without knowing it, become defiled.
And at this point, one of the lawyers who were present — some
learned professor, some orthodox Masoret1 — ventures to interrupt
the majestic torrent of His rebuke. He had, perhaps, imagined that
the youthful Prophet of Nazareth — He who was so meek and lowly
of heart — He whose words among the multitude had hitherto
breathed the spirit of such infinite tenderness — was too gentle, too
loving, to be in earnest. He thought, perhaps, that a word of inter-
polation might check the rushing storm of his awakened wrath. He
had not yet learnt that no strong or great character can be devoid of
the element of holy anger. And so, ignorant of all that was passing
in the Saviour's mind, amazed that people of such high distinction
could be thus plainly and severely dealt with, he murmured in depre
catory tones, "Master, thus saying, thou reproachest us also,! "
Yes, He reproached them also : they, too, heaped on the shoulders
of others the burdens which themselves refused to bear ; they, too,
built the sepulchres of the prophets whom their sins had slain ; they,
too, set their backs against the door of knowledge, and held the key,
so that none could enter in ; on them too, as on all that guilty gen
eration, should come the blood of all the prophets, from the blood of

1 Of course, the mass of textual and other criticisms which form the Masora had
existed for ages before they were collected or reduced to writing.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 353
Abel to the blood of Zacharias, who perished between the altar and
the Temple.1
The same discourse, but yet fuller and more terrible, was subse
quently uttered by Jesus in the Temple of Jerusalem in the last
great week of His life on earth ; but thus did He, on this occasion,
hurl down upon them from the heaven of His moral superiority the
first heart-scathing lightnings of His seven-times-uttered-woe." . They
thought, perhaps, that He would have been deceived by their specious
smoothness and hypocritical hospitality ; but He knew that it was not
out of true heart that they offered Him even the barest courtesies of
fife. The fact that He was alone among them, and that He should
have been, -as it were, betrayed into such company, was but an addi
tional reason why the flames of warning and judgment should thus
play about their heads, which hereafter, unless they repented, should
strike them to the earth. Not for an instant could they succeed in
deceiving Him. There is a spurious kindness, a bitter semblance of
friendship which deserves no respect. It may pass current in the
realms of empty fashion and hollow civility, where often the words
of men's mouths are softer than butter, having war in their heart,
and where, though their throat is an open sepulchre, they flatter with
their tongue ; but it shrivels to nothing before the refining fire of a
divine discernment, and leaves nothing but a sickening fume behind.
The time had come for Him to show to these hypocrites how well
He knew the deceitfulness of their hearts, how deeply He hated the
wickedness of their lives.
They felt that it was an open rupture. The feast broke up in
confusion.3 The Scribes and Pharisees threw off the mask. From
fawning friends and interested inquirers, they suddenly sprang up in
their true guise as deadly opponents. They surrounded Jesus, they
pressed upon Him vehemently, persistently, almost threateningly;
they began to pour upon Him a flood of questions, to examine, to
catechize Him, to try and force words out of Him, lying in ambush,
1 See 2 Chron. xxiv. 20, 21 ; v. infr., Vol. II., page 246.
2 The modern representatives and continuers of the Pharisaic sect are called
Perushim. " They proudly separate themselves from the rest of their co-religion
ists. . . . Fanatical, bigoted, intolerant, quarrelsome, and in truth irreligious,
with them the outward observance of the ceremonial law is everything, the moral law
little binding, morality itself of no importance." Such is the testimony of a Jew 1
(Frankl, Jews in the East, E. Tr., ii. 27.) "You are a Porish," i. e., a Pharisee, is
the bitterest reproach which one of the Chasidlm can utter (id., p. 35).
3 This appears from the xdxsiBsv i^EXBovroi avrov"*'* of Luke xi. 53, which
is the reading of X- B, C, L, &c, instead of the much weaker reading of our ver
sion.- --,"- '•45.

354 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
like eager hunters, to spring upon any confession of ignorance, on
any mistake of fact — above all, on any trace of heresy on which they
might found that legal accusation by which before long they hoped
to put Him down.1
How Jesus escaped from this unseemly spectacle — how He was
able to withdraw Himself from this display of hostility — we are not
told. Probably it might be sufficient for Him to waive His enemies
aside, and bid them leave Him free to go forth again. For mean
while, the crowd had gained some suspicion, or received some inti
mation, of what was going on within. They had suddenly gathered
in dense myriads, actually treading on each other in their haste and
eagerness." Perhaps a dull, wrathful murmur from without warned
the Pharisees in time that it might be dangerous to proceed too far,
and Jesus came out to the multitude with His whole spirit still aglow
with the just and mighty indignation by which it had been pervaded.
Instantly — addressing primarily His own disciples, but through them
the listening thousands — He broke out with a solemn warning,
"Beware ye of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy."
He warned them that there was One before whose eye — ten thou
sand times brighter than the sun — secrecy was impossible. He bade
them not be afraid of man — a fear to which the sad perturbances of
these last few days might well have inclined them — but to fear Him
who could not only destroy the body, but cast the soul also into the
Gehenna " of fire. The God who loved them would care for them ;
and the Son of Man would, before the angels of God, confess them
who confessed Him before men.
While He was thus addressing them, His discourse was broken in
upon by a most inopportune interruption — not this time of hostility,
not of ill-timed interference, not of overpowering admiration, but of
simple policy and self-interest. Some covetous and half-instructed
member of the crowd, seeing the listening throngs, hearing the words
of authority and power, aware of the recent discomfiture of the Phar
isees, expecting, perhaps, some immediate revelation of Messianic
1 Lukexi. 53, yp^avro Snvdoi ivs'xEiv xai ditodropari%Eiv 26° (cf. Suid. s. v.).
Theophylact explains it by dito rov droparoi xparsiv.*" Vulg. " os oppri-
mere." Classically, the word means "to dictate a repetition lesson" (Plato;
Euthyd. 276 C).
2 This seems to be implied by Luke xii. 1, iitidwaxBEidaov tgov pvpidSaov
rov oxXov.1"1 The aorist marks the sudden assemblage of the crowd.
3 rdEvva, Gehennaf is a corruption of the Hebrew Gi Hinnom, " the valley of
Hinnom," outside Jerusalem, which had first been rendered infamous by Moloch
worship, then defiled with corpses, lastly saved from putrefaction and pestilence
by enormous fires. It thus became a type of all that was terrible and disgusting.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 355
power, determined to utilize the occasion for his own worldly ends'.
He thought — if the expression may be allowed — that he could do
a good stroke of business, and most incongruously and irreverently
broke in with the request —
"Master, speak to my brother, that he divide the inheritance
with me."
Almost stern was our Lord's rebuke to the man's egregious self-
absorption. He seems to have been one of those not uncommon
characters to whom the whole universe is pervaded by self ; and he
seems to have considered that the main object of the Messiah's
coming would be to secure for him a share of his inheritance, and to
overrule this unmanageable brother. Jesus at once dispelled his
miserably carnal expectations, and then warned him, and all who
heard, to beware of letting the narrow horizon of earthly comforts
span their hopes. How brief, yet how rich in significance, is that
little parable which He told them, of the rich fool who, in his greedy,
God-forgetting, presumptuous selfishness, would do this and that,
and who, as though there were no such thing as death, and as though
the soul could live by bread, thought that " my fruits " and " my
goods," and " my barns," and to " eat and drink and be merry," could
for many years to come sustain what was left him of a soul, but to
whom from heaven pealed as a terrible echo to his words the heart-
thrilling sentence of awful irony, " Thou fool, this night!" *
And then our Lord expanded the thought. He told them that the
life was more than meat, and the body than raiment. Again He
reminded them how God clothes, in more than Solomon's glory, the
untoiling lilies, and feeds the careless ravens that neither sow nor
reap. Food and raiment, and the multitude of possessions, were not
life : they had better things to seek after and to look for ; let them
not be tossed on this troubled sea of faithless care ; " be theirs the life
1 Luke xii. 16 — 21. It is not indicated, any more than in the case of Dives, that
his riches were unjustly acquired : his fault lay in his forgetting the Giver ; for
getting that he was but a steward of them ; forgetting that the soul cannot live
by them ; forgetting how soon death might make him relax his grasp of them.
It is clear that the reminiscence of Nabal's selfish folly and wretched death was
in our Lord's mind. This is shown by the emphatic repetition of the p ov (cf . 1
Sam. xxv. 11) and by the choice of dcppaov = Nabal (id. ver. 25). The passage,
too, offers sufficient resemblances to a beautiful passage in the Son of Sirach (xi.
18, 19). to establish the interesting conclusion of Stier, that our Lord was also
familiar with the Apocrypha. In the original Greek of this parable there is a
singular energy and liveliness, quite accordant with the »ood of intense emotion
under which Jesus was speaking.
" Luke xii. 29, pi) psrEGopiZedBe, " Be not like ships that toss in the stormy
nffing, outside the harbor's mouth,"

356 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
* of fearless hope, of freest charity, the life of the girded loin and the
burning lamp — as servants watching and waiting for the unknown
moment of their lord's return.
The remarks had mainly been addressed to the disciples, though
the multitudes also heard them, and were by no means excluded
from their import. But here Peter's curiosity got the better of him,
and he asks " whether the parable was meant specially for them, or
even for all ?
To that question our Lord did not reply, and His silence was the
best reply. Only let each man see that he was that faithful and
wise servant; blessed indeed should he then be; but terrible in
exact proportion to his knowledge and his privileges should be the
fate of the gluttonous, cruel, faithless drunkard whom the Lord
should surprise in the midst of his iniquities.
And then — at the thought of that awful judgment — a solemn
agony passed over the spirit of Christ. He thought of the rejected
peace, which should end in furious war ; he thought of the divided
households and the separated friends. He had a baptism to be bap
tized with, and His soul was straitened with anguish till it was
accomplished. . He had come to fling fire upon the earth, and oh,
that it were already kindled ! — that fire was as a spirituarbaptism, the
refining fire, which should at once inspire and blind, at once illum
inate and destroy, at' once harden the clay and melt the gold.1 And
here we are reminded of one of those remarkable though only tradi
tional utterances attributed to Christ, which may possibly have been
connected with the thought here expressed —
"He who is near me is near the fire ! he who is far from me
is far from the kingdom." "
But from these sad thoughts He once more descended to the imme
diate needs of the multitude. From the reddening heaven, from the
rising clouds, they could foretell that the showers would fall or that
the burning wind would blow — why could they not discern the signs
of the times ? Were they not looking into the far-off fields of heaven
1 Luke xii. 50, itaoi dvvs'xopai. I have seen no perfectly satisfactory explana
tion of ri BeXgo, Et f/Srj dvijtpOr?. It seems best to make the ri Be'Xgo a question,
and regard Ei as equivalent to eiBe, " would that." So those difficult words are
understood by Origen (?), Meyer, Stier, Alford, &c. , and, as it seems, rightly ;
though probably there was something far more in these utterances of deep emo
tion than could be rightly understood .
2'0 iyyvi pov iyyvi rov itvpdi- 6 Si paxpdv dit' ipov paxpdv ditd
rrji fiadiXsiai. (Didymus in Ps. lxxxviii. 8.) Traces of the same remarkable
saying are found in Orig. Horn, in Jer. iii., p. 778 ; Ign. ad Smyrn. 4. (See West
cott, Introduction, p. 430.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 357
for signs which were in the air they breathed, and on the ground
they trod upon ; and, most of all — had they but searched rightly —
in the state of their own inmost souls ? If they would see the star
which should at once direct their feet, and influence their destiny,
they must look for it, not in the changing skies of outward circum
stance, but each in the depth of his own heart.1 Let them seize the
present opportunity to make peace with God. For men and for
nations the " too late " comes at last.
And there the discourse seems to have ended. It was the last time
for many days that they were to hear His words. Surrounded by ene
mies who were not only powerful, but now deeply exasperated —
obnoxious to the immediate courtiers of the very king in whose
dominion he was living — dogged by. the open hatred and secret con
spiracies of spies whom the multitude had been taught to reverence
— feeling that the people understood Him not, and that in the minds
of their leaders and teachers sentence of death and condemnation
had already been passed upon Him — He turned His back for a time
upon His native land, and went to seek in idolatrous and alien cities
the rest and peace' which were denied Him in His home.
1 Cf . Matt. xvi. 2, 3 ; Luke xii. 54 — 57. ¦uavdcov is the hot wind, D1-lp " ventus
arens" (Jer. in Ezek. xxvii.).

358 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXIY.

AMONG THE HEATHEN.

" They that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the
Light shined." — Isa. ix. 2.
" Then Jesus went thence, and departed into the regions of Tyre
andSidon."1 Such is the brief notice which prefaces the few and scanty records
of a period of His life and work of which, had it been vouchsafed to
us, we should have been deeply interested to learn something more.
But only a single incident of this visit to heathendom has been
recorded. It might have seemed that in that distant region there
would be a certainty, not of safety only, but even of repose ; but it
was not so. We have already seen traces that the fame of His mira
cles had penetrated even to the old Phoenician cities, and no sooner
had He reached their neighborhood than it became evident that He
could not be hid. A woman sought for Him, and followed the little
company of wayfarers with passionate entreaties — " Have mercy on
me, O Lord, Thou Son of David ; my daughter is grievously vexed
with a devil."
We might have imagined that our Lord would answer such a
prayer with immediate and tender approbation, and all the more
because, in granting her petition, He would symbolically have been
representing the extension of His kingdom to the three greatest
branches of the Pagan world. For this woman was by birth a
Canaanite, and a Syro-Phoenioian ; " by position a Roman subject;
by culture and language a Greek ; and her appeal for mercy to the
Messiah of the Chosen People might well look like the first-fruits of
that harvest in which the good seed should spring up hereafter in
Tyre and Sidon, and Carthage, and Greece, and Rome. But Jesus
— and is not this one of the numberless indications that we are deal-

1 Matt. xv. 21—28 ; Mark vii. 24—30.
2 The name is somewhat uncertain ; it is perhaps the opposite of Liby-phoenix
— i. e., the Phoenicians of Carthage (cf. Uterque Poenus, Hor. Od. ii. 2, 11), since
the province Syro-Phoenice was not created till Hadrian's time. The readings of
Mark vii. 26 differ, and Griesbach reads 2vpa ioividda. But perhaps 2vpo-
tpoivixidda (X, A) is the safest form.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 359
ing, not with loose and false tradition, but with solid fact ? — "Jesus
answered her not a word."
In no other single instance are we told of a similar apparent cold
ness on the part of Christ ; nor are we here informed of the causes
which influenced His actions. Two alone suggest themselves : He
may have desired to test the feelings of His disciples, who, in the
narrow spirit of Judaic exclusiveness, might be unprepared to see
Him grant His blessings, not only to a Gentile, but a Canaanite, and
descendant of the accursed race. It was true that He had healed the
servant of the centurion, but he was perhaps a Roman, certainly a
benefactor to the Jews, and in all probability a proselyte of the gate.
But it is more likely that, knowing what would follow, He may have
desired to test yet further the woman's faith, both that He might
crown it with a more complete and glorious reward, and that she
might learn something deeper respecting Him than the mere Jewish
title that she may have accidentally picked up.1 And further than
this, since every miracle is also rich in moral significance, He may
have wished for all time to encourage us in our prayers and hopes,
and teach us to persevere, even when it might seem that His face is
dark to us, or that His ear is turned away.
Weary with the importunity of her cries, the disciples begged Him
to send her away. But, as if even their intercession would be una
vailing, He said, " I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house
of Israel."
Then she came and fell at His feet, and began to worship Him,
saying, " Lord, help me." Could he indeed remain untouched by
that sorrow ? Could He reject that appeal ? and would He leave her
to return to the life-long agony of watching the paroxysms of her
demoniac child ? Calmly and coldly came from those lips, that never
yet had answered with anything but mercy to a suppliant's prayer —
" It is not meet to take the children's bread and to cast it to dogs."
Such an answer might well have struck a chill into her soul ; and
had he not foreseen that hers was the rare trust which can see mercy
and acceptance even in apparent rejection, He would not so have
answered her. But not all the snows of her native Lebanon could
quench the fire of love which was burning on the altar of her heart,
and prompt as an echo came forth the glorious and immortal answer —
" Truth, Lord ; then let me share the condition, not of the children,
' In Mark iii. 8 ; Luke vi. 17, we are distinctly told that " they about Tyre and
Sidon " were among His hearers, and the witnesses of His miracles : and He had
on two separate occasions at least been publicly greeted by the title, '' Son of
David" (Matt. ix. 27 ; xii. 23).

360 TEE LtFE 0F CHRIST.
but of the dogs, for even the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from
their masters' table." '
She had triumphed, and more than triumphed. Not one moment
longer did her Lord prolong the agony of her suspense. " 0 woman,"
He exclaimed, " great is thy faith : be it unto thee even as thou wilt."
And with his usual beautiful and graphic simplicity St. Mark ends the
narrative with the touching words, "And when she was come to her
house, she found the devil gone out, and her daughter laid upon the
bed." How long our Lord remained in these regions, and at what spot
He stayed, we do not know. Probably His departure was hastened
by the publicity which attended His movements even there, and which
— in a region where it had been His object quietly to train His own
nearest and most beloved followers, and not either to preach or to
work deeds of mercy — would only impede His work. He therefore
left that interesting land. On Tyre, with its commercial magnifi
cence, its ancient traditions, its gorgeous and impure idolatries, its
connection with the history and prophecies of His native land — on
Sarepta, with its memories of Elijah's flight and Elijah's miracles —
on Sidon, with its fisheries of the purple limpet, its tombs of once-
famous and long-forgotten kings, its minarets rising out of their
groves of palm and citron, beside the blue historic sea — on the
white wings of the countless vessels, sailing to the Isles of the Gen
tiles, and to all the sunny and famous regions of Greece and Italy
and Spain — He would doubtless look with a feeling of mingled
sorrow and interest. But his work did not lie here, and leaving
behind Him those Phoenician shrines of Melkarth and Asherah, of
Baalim and Ashtaroth, He turned eastward — probably through the
deep gorge of the rushing and beautiful Leontes — and so reaching
the sources of the Jordan, travelled southward on its further bank
into the regions of Decapolis."
1 Nai, Kvpie- xai yap rd xvvdpia, x. r. X. (Matt. xv. 27), " Yea, Lord ; for
even the little dogs," &c. The i/iixia may possibly be the ditopaySaXiai (Ar.
Equit. 415), or fragments of bread on which the guests wiped their hands (after
thrusting them into the common dish), and then flung to the dogs.
2 For the Leontes and the doubts as to its identification, see Diet, of Geogr. s. v.
" Bostrenus," and Robinson, Bibl. Res. iii. 408 — 410. The reading Sid 2iSaovoi,
"He passed from the regions of Tyre through Sidon," in Mark vii. 31, is almost
certain. The Codex Sinaiticus here concurs with the Vatican, the Codex Bezae,
and the Cod. Reg. Parisiensis. Besides, the privacy which He was seeking could
not well be attained by passing southwards, and so through the plain of Esdrae-
lon, by Bethshean and over the bridge at the southern end of the Lake of Galilee.
Perhaps I am wrong in assuming that the worship of Melkarth, &c, lingered on.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 361
Decapolis was the name given to a district east of the Jordan,
extending as far north (apparently) l as Damascus, and as far south
as the river Jabbok, which formed the northern limit of Perasa. It
was a confederacy of ten free cities, in a district which, on their
return from exile, the Jews had never been able to recover, and
which was therefore mainly occupied by Gentiles, who formed a
separate section of the Roman province. The reception of Jesus in
this semi-pagan district seems to have been favorable. Wherever
He went He was unable to abstain from exercising His miraculous
powers in favor of the sufferers for whom His aid was sought ; and in
one of these cities " He was entreated to heal a man who was deaf,
and could scarcely speak." He might have healed him by a word,
but there were evidently circumstances in his case which rendered it
desirable to make the cure gradual, and to effect it by visible signs.
He took the man aside, put His fingers in his ears, and spat, and
touched His tongue ; and then St. Mark preserves for us the sigh,
and the uplifted glance, as He spoke the one word, " Ephphatha ! Be
opened ! " 4 Here again it is not revealed to us what were the
immediate influences which saddened His spirit. He may have
sighed in pity for the man ; He may have sighed in pity for the
race ; He may have sighed for all the sins that degrade and all the
sufferings which torture ; but certainly he sighed in a spirit of deep
tenderness and compassion, and certainly that sigh ascended like an
infinite intercession into the ears of the Lord God of Hosts.5
Mr. Garnett calls my attention to the fact that Lucian (?), De Ded Syr. ix., enumer
ates only three dpxaia xai psyaXa ispd in Syria — those of the Syrian Hera,
the Byblian Venus, and Astarte. On the other hand, Melkarth continues to be
represented to a late period on coins.
1 Pliny, Nat. Hist. v. 18.
2 Gerasa, Gadara, Hippos, Pella, Gergesa, Bethshean (Scythopolis) are all said by
Pliny to belong to Decapolis ; the readings of one or two of the names are corrupt.
3 Mark vii. 32—37.
4 More exactly "5?'???, a sound hardly capable of transliteration into Greek.
The conclusion which some have drawn that our Lord ordinarily spoke Greek,
and that St. Mark has only preserved for us a few Aramaic words on the rare
occasions on which Christ adopted the vernacular language of His people, is very
precarious. Most of the Jews of that time, those at any rate who were educated
and lived in the great commercial centres, spoke two languages, Greek and Ara
maic, to which many of them must have added a colloquial knowledge of Latin ;
but we have seen reason to believe that the language most commonly used by our
Lord was Aramaic (v. supra, p. 93.)
5 " It was not drawn from Him," says Luther, " on account of the single tongue
and ears of this poor man ; but it is a common sigh over all tongues and ears, yea,
over all hearts, bodies, and souls, and over all men, from Adam to his last descend
ant." (Stier, iii. 394.)
46

362 TEE LIFE OF CHRIST.
The multitudes of that outlying region, unfamiliar with His mira
cles, were beyond measure astonished. His injunction of secrecy
was as usual disregarded, and all hope of seclusion was at an end.
The cure had apparently been wrought in close vicinity to the eastern
shore of the Sea of Galilee, and great multitudes followed Jesus to
the summit of a hill overlooking the lake,1 and there bringing their
lame, and blind, and maimed, and dumb, they laid them at the feet
of the Good Physician, and He healed them all. Filled with intense
and joyful amazement, these people of Decapolis could not tear them
selves from His presence, and — semi-pagans as they were — they
" glorified the God of Israel." "
Three days they had now been with Him, and, as many of them
came from a distance, their food was exhausted. Jesus pitied them,
and seeing their faith, and unwilling that they should faint by the
way, once more spread for His people a table in the wilderness.
Some have wondered that, in answer to the expression of His pity,
the disciples did not at once anticipate or suggest what He
should do. But surely here there is a touch of delicacy and truth.
They knew that there was in Him no prodigality of the supernatural,
no lavish and needless exercise of miraculous power. Many and
many a time had they been with multitudes before, and yet on one
occasion only had He fed them ; and moreover, after He had done
so, He had most sternly rebuked those who came to Him in expecta
tion of a repeated offer of such gifts, and had uttered a discourse so
searching and strange that it alienated from Him many even of His
friends.3 For them to suggest to Him a repetition of the feeding of
the five thousand would be a presumption which their ever-deepen
ing reverence forbade, and forbade more than ever as they recalled
how persistently He had refused to work a sign, such as this was, at
the bidding of others. But no sooner had He given them the signal
of His intention, than with perfect faith they became His ready min
isters. They seated the multitude, and distributed to them the mir
aculous multiplication of the seven loaves and the few small fishes ;
and, this time unbidden, they gathered the fragments that remained,
and with them filled seven large baskets of rope, after the multitude
— four thousand in number, besides women and children — had eaten
and were filled.4 And then kindly and peacefully, and with no exhi-
1 Very probably near the Wady Semakh, nearly opposite Magdala.
2 Matt. xv. 29—39 ; Mark viii. 1—9.
3 These points have been (so far as I have observed) universally overlooked.
4 ditvpiSsi, this time not small xoqoivoi, as in the previous miracle : for the
size of them compare Acts ix. 25, where St. Paul is let down the wall of Damascus

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 363
bition on the part of the populace of that spurious excitement which
had marked the former miracle, the Lord and His Apostles joined
in sending away the rejoicing and grateful throng.
in a ditvpii. To suppose, as some have done, that this miracle is identical with
the Feeding of the Five Thousand — both being but blurred traditions of one and
the same event — is simply to deprive the Evangelists of every particle of histori
cal value. The two miracles differ in almost every circumstance — in time, in
place, in numbers, in results, in details ; and it is a striking mark of truth, which
certainly would not be found in the work of inventors, that the lesser miracle is
put after the greater, our Lord's object being to do a work of mercy, not to put
forth a display of power.

364 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXY.
THE GREAT CONFESSION.
" These have known that Thou has sent me." — John xvii. 25.
Yeey different was the reception which awaited Jesus on the
farther shore. The poor heathens of Decapolis had welcomed Him
with reverent enthusiasm : the haughty Pharisees of Jerusalem met
Him with sneering hate. It may be that, after this period of absence,
His human soul yearned for the only resting-place which He could
call a home. Entering into His little vessel, He sailed across the lake
to Magdala.1 It is probable that He purposely avoided sailing to Beth
saida or Capernaum, which are a little north of Magdala, and which had
become the head-quarters of the hostile Pharisees. But it seems that
these personages had kept a look-out for His arrival. As though
they had been watching from the tower of Magdala for the sail of
His returning vessel, barely had He set foot on shore than they came
forth to meet Him. Nor were they alone: this time they were
accompanied — ill-omened conjunction ! — with their rivals and ene
mies the Sadducees, that sceptical sect, half-religious, half-political, to
which at this time belonged the two High Priests, as well as the
members of the reigning family." Every section of the ruling classes
— the Pharisees, formidable from their religious weight among the
people ; the Sadducees, few in number, but powerful from wealth
and position ; the Herodians, representing the influence of the
Romans, and of their nominees the tetrarchs ; the scribes and lawyers,
bringing to bear the authority of their orthodoxy and their learning
1 St. Mark says (viii. 10), " the parts of Dalmanutha." Nothing is known about
Dalmanutha, though uncertain identifications of it have been attempted ; nor is
anything known of Magadan, which is found in Matt. xv. 39, according to x, B, D,
but does not seem a probable reading. If Magadan is a confused form of Megiddo,
that must be an error, for Megiddo is in the middle of the plain of Esdraelon. Yet
even in Mark the Codex Bezae reads " Magadan." Eusebius and Jerome (Onomast.
s. v.) make Magadan a region about Gerasa, and therefore east of the Lake ; but
that is impossible. The " Melegada " of D looks like a case of transposition and
indeed this transposition is probably the source of the confusion, and may even
account for the form Dalmanutha.
2 Acts iv. 1, 5 ; Jos. Antt. xv. 8, § 1.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 365
— were all united against Him in one firm phalanx of conspiracy and
opposition, and were determined above all things to hinder His preach
ing, and to alienate from Him, so far as was practicable, the affections
of the people among whom most of His mighty works were done.1
They had already found by experience that the one most effectual
weapon to discredit His mission and undermine His influence was
the demand of a sign — above all, a sign from heaven. If He were
indeed the Messiah, why should He not give them bread from heaven
as Moses, they said, had done ? where were Samuel's thunder and
Elijah's flame ? why should not the sun be darkened, and the moon
turned into blood, and the stars of heaven be shaken ? why should
not some fiery pillar glide before them to victory, or the burst of
some stormy Bath Kol ratify His words ?
They knew that no such sign would be granted them, and they
knew that He had vouchsafed to them the strongest reasons for His
thrice-repeated refusal to gratify their presumptuous and unspiritual
demand." Had they known or understood the fact of His tempta
tion in the wilderness, they would have known that His earliest
answers to the tempter were uttered in this very spirit of utter self-
abnegation. Had he granted their request, what purpose would have
been furthered ? It is not the influence of external forces, but it is
the germinal idinciple of life within, which makes the good seed to
grow ; nor can the hard heart be converted, or the stubborn unbe
lief removed, by portents and prodigies, but by inward humility, and
the grace of God stealing downward like the dew of heaven, in
silence and unseen. What would have ensued had the sign been
vouchsafed ? By its aqtual eye-witnesses it would have been attrib
uted to demoniac agency ; by those to whom it was reported it would
have been explained away ; by those of the next generation it would
have been denied as an invention, or evaporated into a myth.
But in spite of all this, the Pharisees and Sadducees felt that for
the present this refusal to gratify their demand gave them a handle
against Jesus, and was an effectual engine for weakening the admi
ration of the people. Yet not for one moment did He hesitate in
rejecting this their temptation. He would not work any epideictic
miracle at their bidding, any more than at the bidding of the tempter.
He at once told them, as he had told them before, that "no sign
1 Sepp, whose learning is strangely deformed by constant extravagances, com
pares the eight sects of the Jews to modern schools of thought, as follows : Phari
sees = pietists ; Essenes = mystics ; Sadducees = rationalists ; Herodians = politi
cal clubs, &c; Zealots = radicals ; Samaritans = schismatics !
2 John ii. 18 ; vi. 30 ; Matt. xii. 38.

366 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
should be given them but the sign of the prophet Jonah." Pointing
to the western sky, now crimson with the deepening hues of sunset,
He said, " When it is evening, ye say, ' Fair weather ! for the sky is
red ; ' and in the morning, ' Storm to-day, for the sky is red and
frowning.' Hypocrites ! ye know how to discern the face of the sky :
can ye not learn the signs of the times ? " '
As He spoke He heaved a deep inward sigh." For some time He
had been absent from home. He had been sought out with trustful
faith in the regions of Tyre and Sidon. He had been welcomed with
ready gratitude in heathen Decapolis ; here, at home, He was met
with the flaunt of triumphant opposition, under the guise of hypo-
critic zeal. He steps ashore on the lovely plain, where He had done
so many noble and tender deeds, and spoken for all time such trans
cendent and immortal words. He came back, haply to work once
more in the little district where His steps had once been followed by
rejoicing thousands, hanging in deep silence on every word He spoke.
As He approaches Magdala, the little village destined for all time to
lend its name to a word expressive of His most divine compassion —
as He wishes to enter once more the little cities and villages which
offered to His homelessness the only shadow of a home — here, barely
has He stepped upon the pebbly strand, barely passed through the
fringe of flowering shrubs which embroider the water's edge, barely
listened to the twittering of the innumerable birds which welcome
Him back with their familiar sounds — when He finds all the self-
satisfied hypocrisies of a decadent religion drawn up in array to stop
His path !
He did not press His mercies on those who rejected them. As in
after days His nation were suffered to prefer their robber and their
murderer to the Lord of Life, so now the Galilseans were suffered to
keep their Pharisees and lose their Christ. He left them as He had
left the Gadarenes ¦ — rejected, not suffered to rest even in His home ;
with heavy heart, solemnly and sadly he left them — left them then
and there — left them, to revisit, indeed, once more their neighbor
hood, but never again to return publicly — never again to work
miracles, to teach or preach.3
It must have been late in that autumn evening when He stepped
once more into the little ship, and bade His disciples steer their course

' Matt. xvi. 1—4 ; Mark viii. 10—13.
2 Mark viii. 12, dvadrsvd^ai rap itvsvpari avrov.
3 There is something emphatic both in the xaraXiitodv avrovi111 of Matt. xvi.
4 and in the dcpeii avrovi 264 of Mark viii. 13.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 367
towards Bethsaida Julias, at the northern end of the Lake. On their
way they must have sailed by the bright sands of the western Beth
saida, on which Peter and the sons of Zebedee had played in their
infancy, and must have seen the white marble synagogue of Caper
naum flinging its shadow across the waters, which blushed with the
reflected colors of the sunset. Was it at such a moment, when He
was leaving Galilee with the full knowledge that His work there was
at an end, and that He was sailing away from it under the ban of
partial excommunication and certain death — was it at that supreme
moment of sorrow that He uttered the rhythmic woe in which He
upbraided the unrepentant cities wherein most of His mighty works
were done ? —
" Woe unto thee, Chorazin ! woe unto thee, Bethsaida ! for if the
mighty works which have been done in you had been done in Tyre
and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and
ashes. " But I say unto you, That it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and
Sidon at the day of judgment than for you.
"And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be
brought down to hell: for if the mighty works which have been
done in thee had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until
this day.
" But I say unto you, That it shall be more tolerable for the land
of Sodom in the day of judgment than for thee ! "
Whether these touching words were uttered on this occasion as a
stern and sad farewell to His public ministry in the land he loved,
we cannot tell ; ' but certainly His soul was still filled with sorrow
for the unbelief and hardness of heart, the darkened intellects and
corrupted consciences of those who were thus leaving for Him no
power to set foot in His native land. It has been said by a great
forensic orator that "no form of self-deceit is more hateful and

1 This woe — evidently complete and isolated in character — is recorded in Matt.
xi. 20 — 24 ; Luke x . 12 — 15. St. Matthew seems to group it with the utterances at
the feast of Simon the Pharisee ; St. Luke with the Mission of the Seventy. It
is, perhaps, hazardous to conjecture that words so solemnly beautiful and full of
warning were uttered more than once ; and since the order of St. Matthew is in
many places professedly unchronological, we can find no more appropriate occa
sion for the words than this. They have evidently the character of a farewell,
and the recent visit of Jesus to the coasts of Tyre and Sidon would give them
special significance here. The mention of the otherwise unknown Chorazin is an
additional proof, if any were needed, of the fragmentary character of the Gospels.
It is an inland town, three miles from Tell Hum, of which the deserted ruins, dis
covered by Dr. Robinson, are still called Khersah.

368 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
detestable . . . than that which veils spite and falsehood under the
guise of frankness, and behind the profession of religion." Repug
nance to this hideous vice must have been prominent in the stricken
heart of Jesus, when, as the ship sailed along the pleasant shore
upon its northward way, He said to His disciples, " Take heed, and
beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees." '
He added nothing more ; and this remark the strange simplicity of
the disciples foolishly misinterpreted. They were constantly taking
His figurative expressions literally, and His literal expressions meta
phorically. When He called Himself the "bread from heaven,"
they thought the saying hard ; when He said, " I have meat to eat
that ye know not of," they could only remark, " Hath any man
brought Him aught to eat ? " when He said, " Our friend Lazarus
sleepeth," they answered, "Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well."
And so now, although leaven was one of the very commonest types
of sin, and especially of insidious and subterranean sin, the only
interpretation which, after a discussion among themselves, they could
attach to His remark was, that He was warning them not to
buy leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees, or, perhaps, indirectly
reproaching them because, in the sorrow and hurry of their unex
pected re-embarkation, they had only brought with them one single
loaf ! Jesus was grieved at this utter non-comprehension, this almost
stupid literalism. Did they suppose that He, at whose words the
loaves and fishes had been so miraculously multiplied — that they,
who after feeding the five thousand had gathered twelve hand-
baskets, and after feeding the four thousand had gathered seven
large baskets-full of the fragments that remained — did they suppose,
after that, that there was danger lest He or they should suffer from
starvation ? There was something almost of indignation in the rapid
questions in which, without correcting, He indicated their error.
" Why reason ye because ye have no bread ? Perceive ye not yet,
neither understand ? Have ye your heart yet hardened ? Having
eyes see ye not ? and having ears, hear ye not ? and do ye not remem
ber?" And then once more, after He had reminded them of those
miracles, " How is it that ye do not understand ? " They had not
ventured to ask Him for any explanation; there was something
about Him — something so awe-inspiring and exalted in His person
ality — that their love for Him, intense though it was, was tempered
by an overwhelming reverence: but now it began to dawn upon
1 Or " of Herod " (Mark viii. 15). The Herodians appear to have been mainly
Sadducees.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 369
them that something else was meant, and that He was bidding them
beware, not of the leaven of bread, but of the doctrine of the
Pharisees and Sadducees.
At Bethsaida Julias, probably on the following morning, a blind
man was brought to Him for healing. The cure was wrought in a
manner very similar to that of the deaf and dumb man in Decapolis.
It has none of the ready freedom, the radiant spontaneity of the
earlier and happier miracles. In one respect' it differs from every
other recorded miracle, for it was, as it were, tentative. Jesus took
the man by the hand, led him out of the village, spat upon his eyes,
and then, laying His hands upon them, asked if he saw. The man
looked at the figures in the distance, and, but imperfectly cured as
yet, said, " I see men as trees walking." Not until Jesus had laid
His hands a second time upon his eyes did he see clearly. And then
Jesus bade him go to his house, which was not at Bethsaida ; for,
with an emphatic repetition of the word, he is forbidden either to
enter into the town, or to tell it to any one in the town. We cannot
explain the causes of the method which Christ here adopted. The
impossibility of understanding what guided His actions arises from
the brevity of the narrative, in which the Evangelist — as is so often
the case with writers conversant with their subject — passes over
many particulars, which, because they were so familiar to himself,
will, he supposes, be self-explaining to those who read his words. All
that we can dimly see is Christ's dislike and avoidance of these heath
enish Herodian towns, with their borrowed Hellenic architecture,
their careless customs, and even their very names commemorating,
as was the case with Bethsaida Julias, some of the most contemptible
of the human race.1 We see from the Gospels themselves that the
richness and power displayed in the miracles was correlative to the
faith of the recipients : in places where faith was scanty it was but
too natural that miracles should be gradual and few."
Leaving Bethsaida Julias, Jesus made his way towards Csesarea
Philippi. Here, again, it seems to be distinctly intimated that He did
not enter into the town itself, but only visited the " coasts " of it, or
wandered about the neighboring villages.3 Why He bent His foot
steps in that direction we are not told. It was a town that had seen
1 Herod Philip had named his renovated capital in honor of Julia, the aban
doned daughter of the Emperor Augustus.
2 No one who has rightly considered the Gospel miracles will regard this as
"a damaging concession." At any rate, if so, it is a fresh proof of the entire
truthfulness of the Gospels. (Matt. xiii. 58 ; Mark vi. 5, 6 : ix. 23, &c.)
3 Matt. xvi. 13, pepr;, " parts," or " regions ; " Mark viii. 27, xaopai.
47

370 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
many vicissitudes. As " Laish," it had been the possession of the
careless Sidonians. As " Dan," it had been the chief refuge of a
warlike tribe of Israel, the northern limit of the Israefitish kingdom,
and the seat of the idolatry of the golden calf. Colonized by Greeks,
its name had been changed into Paneas, in honor of the cave under
its towering hill, which had been artificially fashioned into a grotto
of Pan, and adorned with niches, which once contained statues of
his sylvan nymphs. As the capital of Herod Phifip, it had been
re-named in honor of himself and his patron Tiberius.1 The Lord
might gaze with interest on the noble ranges of Libanus and Anti-
Libanus; He might watch the splendid and snowy mass of Hermon
glittering under the dawn, or flushed with its evening glow ; He
might wander round Lake Phiala, and see where, according to popu
lar belief, the Jordan, after his subterranean course, bursts rejoicing
into the light : but He could only have gazed with sorrow on the
city itself, with its dark memories of Israefitish apostasy, its poor
mimicry of Roman imperialism, and the broken statues of its unhal
lowed and Hellenic cave.
But it was on His way to the northern region that there occurred
an incident which may well be regarded as the culminating point of
His earthly ministry." He was alone. The crowd that surged so
tumultuously about Him in more frequented districts, here only fol
lowed Him at a distance. Only His disciples were near Him as He
stood apart in solitary prayer. And when the prayer was over, He
beckoned them about Him as they continued their journey, and asked
them those two momentous questions on the answers to which
depended the whole outcome of His work on earth.
First He asked them —
" Whom do men say that I the Son of Man am ?
The answer was a sad one. The Apostles dared not and would
not speak aught but the words of soberness and truth, and they made
the disheartening admission that the Messiah had not been recognized
by the world which He came to save. They could only repeat the
idle guesses of the people. Some, echoing the verdict of the guilty
conscience of Antipas, said that He was John the Baptist ; some,
who may have heard the sterner denunciations of His impassioned
grief, caught in that mighty utterance the thunder-tones of a new
Elijah ; others, who had listened to His accents of tenderness and

1 On Cssarea Philippi see Jos. Antt. xv. 10, § 3 ; B. J. i. 21, § 3 ; and for a
description of its present state, Thomson, Land and Book, II., ch. xvi.
2 Matt. xvi. 13—28 ; Mark viii. 27— ix. 1 ; Luke ix. 18—27.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 371
words of universal love, saw in Him the plaintive soul of Jeremiah,
and thought that He had come, perhaps, to restore them the lost
Urim and the vanished Ark : many looked on Him as a prophet and
a precursor. None — in spite of an occasional Messianic cry wrung
from the admiration of the multitude, amazed by some unwonted
display of power — none dreamt of who He was. The fight had
shone in the darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not.
" But whom say ye that I am ? "
Had that great question been answered otherwise — could it have
been answered otherwise - — the world's whole destinies might have
been changed. Had it been answered otherwise, then, humanly
speaking, so far the mission of the Saviour would have wholly failed,
and Christianity and Christendom have never been. For the work
of Christ on earth lay mainly with His disciples. He sowed the
seed, they reaped the harvest; He converted them, and they the
world. He had never openly spoken of His Messiahship. John
indeed had borne witness to Him, and to those who could receive it
He had indirectly intimated, both in word and deed, that He was the
Son of God. But it was His will that the light of revelation should
dawn gradually on the minds of His children ; that it should spring
more from the truths he spake, and the life He lived, than from the
wonders which He wrought ; that it should be conveyed not in sud
den thunder-crashes of supernatural majesty or visions of unutterable
glory, but through the quiet medium of a sinless and self-sacrificing
course. It was in the Son of Man that they were to recognize the
Son of God.
But the answer came, as from everlasting it had been written in
the book of destiny that it should come ; and Peter, the ever warm
hearted, the coryphaeus of the Apostolic choir,1 had the immortal
honor of giving it utterance for them all —
" Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God ! "
Such an answer from the chief of the Apostles atpned by its fulness
of insight and certitude of conviction for the defective appreciation of
the multitudes.* It showed that at last the great mystery was revealed
1 6 itavraxov Qspjudi, 6 rov xopov tgov ditodroXaov xopvcpaioi i6S (Chrys.
Horn. liv.).
2 He says, not "we say," but "Thou abt" (Alford, ad loc). St. Peter was
" primus inter pares " — a leader, but among equals. Had he been more than
this — had Christ's words been intended to bestow on him the least shadow of
supremacy — how could James and John have asked to sit on the right hand and
on the left of Christ in His Kingdom 1 and how could the Apostles on at least two
subsequent occasions have disputed who among them should be the greatest ?

'372 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
which had been hidden from the ages and the generations. The
Apostles at least had not only recognized in Jesus of Nazareth the
promised Messiah of their nation, but it had been revealed to them
by the special grace of God that that Messiah was not only what
the Jews expected, a Prince, and a Ruler, and a son of David, but
was more than this, even the Son of the living God.
With awful solemnity did the Saviour ratify that great confession.
" Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon, son of
Jonas : ' for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my
Father which is in heaven." And I say unto thee, that thou art
Peter (Petros), and on this rock (petra) I will build my Church, and
the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.3 And I will give unto
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."
Never did even the lips of Jesus utter more memorable words. It
was His own testimony of Himself. It was the promise that they
who can acknowledge it are blessed. It was the revealed fact that
they only can acknowledge it who are led thereto by the Spirit of
God. It told mankind for ever that not by earthly criticisms, but
only by heavenly grace, can the full knowledge of that truth be
obtained. It was the laying of the corner-stone of the Church of
Christ, and the earliest occasion on which was uttered that memora
ble word, thereafter to be so intimately blended with the history of
the world.4 It was the promise that that Church founded on the
1 So, too, Jesus addressed him on other solemn occasions (John xxi. 15 — 17).
5 Not the common Jewish abinu, " our Father," but " my Father " (6 itarr/p
pov). 3 Similar plays on words, founded on very deep principles, are common among
deep thinkers in all tongues. Our Lord was probably speaking in Aramaic, in which
language the phrase " gates of hell " (S^K'f O!^', shaare sheol) presents a pleasing
assonance. If so, He probably said, " Thou art Kephas, and on this Kepha I
will," &c. Many commentators, from the earliest ages downwards, have under
stood " this rock " to be either the confession of Peter, or Christ himself (see
abundant authorities for these opinions in the elaborate note of Bishop Words
worth) ; it is difficult, however, in either of these cases to see any force in the
" Thou art Peter." On the other hand, to speak of a man as " the rock " is unlike
the ordinary language of Scripture. " Who is a rock save our God 1 " (2 Sam.
xxii. 32 ; Ps. xviii. 31 ; lxii. 2 ; Isa. xxviii. 16 ; and see especially 1 Cor. iii. 11 ;
x. 4). The key was a common Jewish metaphor for authority (Isa. xxii. 22 ;
Luke xi. 52). (GfrOrer, i. 155, 283 ; Schottg., Hor. Hebr. ii. 894.) I shall speak
further on the passage in a subsequent note, but do not profess to have fully
solved its difficulties.
4 It is a remarkable fact that the word ixxXijdia occurs but once again in the
Gospels (Matt, xviii. 17).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 373
rock of inspired confession should remain unconquered by all the
powers of hell. It was the conferring upon that Church, in the per
son of its typical representative, the power to open and shut, to bind
and loose, and the promise that the power faithfully exercised on
earth should be finally ratified in heaven.
" Tute haee omnia dicuntur," says the great Bengel, " nam quid
ad Romam ? " "all these statements are made with safety ; for what
have they to do with Rome ? " l Let him who will wade through all
the controversy necessitated by the memorable perversions of this mem
orable text, which runs as an inscription round the interior of the
great dome of St Peter's. But little force is needed to overthrow
the strange inverted pyramids of argument which have been built
upon it. Were it not a matter of history, it would have been deemed
incredible that on so baseless a foundation should have been rested
the fantastic claim that abnormal power should be conceded to the
bishops of a Church which almost certainly St. Peter did not found,
and in a city in which there is no indisputable proof that he ever set
his foot. The immense arrogancies of sacerdotafism ; the disgraceful
abuses of the confessional ; the imaginary power of absolving from
oaths ; the ambitious assumption of a right to crush and control the
civil power ; the extravagant usurpation of infallibility in wielding
the dangerous weapons of anathema and excommunication; the
colossal tyrannies of the Popedom, and the detestable cruelties of the
Inquisition — all these abominations are, we may hope, henceforth
and for ever, things of the past. But the Church of Christ remains,
of which Peter was a chief foundation, a living stone. The powers
of hell have not prevailed against it ; it still has a commission to fling
wide open the gates of the kingdom of heaven ; it still may loose us
from idle traditional burdens and meaningless ceremonial observ
ances ; it still may bind upon our hearts and consciences the truths
of revealed religion and the eternal obligations of the Moral Law.
To Peter himself the great promise was remarkably fulfilled. It
was he who converted on the day of Pentecost the first great body
of Jews who adopted the Christian faith ; it was he who admitted
the earliest Gentile into the full privileges of Christian fellowship."
His confession made him as a rock, on which the faith of many was
founded, which the powers of Hades might shake, but over which
1 The following texts are alone sufficient to prove finally that St. Peter in no
way exercised among the Apostles any paramount or supreme authority : — Matt.
xviii. 1 ; Eph. ii. 20 ; Rev. xxi. 14 ; 2 Cor. xi. 5 ; xii. 11 ; Gal. ii. 9, 11 ; Luke xxii.
24, 26 ; John xxi. 19—23, &c.
J Peter himself points to this fact as a fulfilment of Christ's promise (Acts xv. 7).

374 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
they never could prevail. But, as has been well added by one of
the deepest, most venerable, and most learned Fathers of the ancient
Church, " If any one thus confess, "when flesh and blood have not
revealed it unto him, but our Father in heaven, he, too, shall obtain
the promised blessings ; as the letter of the Gospel saith indeed to
the great St. Peter, but as its spirit teacheth to every man who hath
become like what that great Peter was." :
It may be said that, from that time forth, the Saviour might
regard one great portion of His work on earth as having been
accomplished. His Apostles were now convinced of the mystery of
His being ; the foundations were laid on which, with Himself as the
chief corner-stone, the whole vast edifice was to be hereafter built.
But He forbade them to reveal this truth as yet. The time for
such preaching had not yet come. They were yet wholly ignorant
of the true method of His manifestation. They were yet too uncon
firmed in faith even to remain true to Him in His hour of utmost
need. As yet He would be known as the Christ to those only whose
spiritual insight could see Him immediately in His life and in His
works. As yet He would neither strive nor cry, nor should His
voice be heard in the streets." When their own faith was confirmed
beyond all wavering by the mighty fact of His resurrection, when
their hearts had been filled with the new Shechinah of God's Holy
Spirit, and their brows, with final consecration, had been mitred with
1 Origen. A full consideration of this great utterance to St. Peter must be
sought for in works professedly theological, but I may here call special attention
to a calm and admirable sermon, " Confession and Absolution," by my friend Pro
fessor Plumptre (Isbister, 1874), in which he points out the distinction which
must be carefully drawn between three separate things too often confounded —
viz., the "Power of the Keys," the power to bind and loose, and the power to
remit or retain. 1. The first (since the delivery of a key formed the ordination of
a Scribe) meant the " power to open the treasury of the Divine oracles, and bring
them out to Christ's disciples " (cf. Matt. xiii. 52 ; Luke xi. 52 ; Matt, xxiii. 4). To
those who heard, it must have implied, the teaching power of the Church. 2. The
power to bind and loose, afterwards conferred on all the disciples (Matt, xviii. 18),
gave them a power like that exercised by the Rabbis (e.g., the school of Shammai,
which, according to the Jewish proverb, bound, and the school of Hillel which
loosed) — the power, namely, to declare what precepts are, and what are not, bind
ing (cf . Matt, xxiii. 4 ; Acts x. 28). It implied, therefore, the legislative action of
the Church. 3. The power to forgive and retain sins (John xx. 22, 23) far trans
cended these, and was distinctly rejected by the Scribes. It belongs to the
prophetic office of the Church, and had direct reference to the gift of the Holy
Spirit, and " was possible only so far as the prophetic gift, in greater or less
measure, was bestowed on those who exercise it " (Plumptre, ubi supra, pp. 45 — 48).
For wise views of this subject, see also Hooker, Eccl. Pol., VI. iv. 1, 2.
2 Matt. xii. 19 ; Isa. xiii. 1.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 375
Pentecostal flame, then, but not till then, would the hour have come
for them to go forth and teach all nations that Jesus was indeed the
Christ, the Son of the Living God.
But although they now knew Him, they knew nothing as yet of
the way in which it was His will to carry out His divine purposes.
It was time that they should yet further be prepared ; it was time
that they should learn that, King though He was, His kingdom was
not of this world ; it was time that all idle earthly hopes of splendor
and advancement in the Messianic kingdom should be quenched in
them for ever, and that they should know that the kingdom of God
is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in
believing. Therefore He began, calmly and deliberately, to reveal to them
His intended journey to Jerusalem, His rejection by the leaders of
His nation, the anguish and insult that awaited Him, His violent
death, His resurrection on the third day. He had, indeed, on pre
vious occasions given them divers and distant intimations ' of these
approaching sufferings, but now for the first time He dwelt on them
distinctly, and that with full freedom of speech." Yet even now He
did not reveal in its entire awfulness the manner of His approaching
death. He made known unto them, indeed, that He should be
rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes — by all the au
thorities, and dignities, and sanctities of the nation — but not that He
should be delivered to the Gentiles. He warned them that He should
be killed, but He reserved till the time of His last journey to Jerusa
lem the horrible fact that He should be crucified.3 He thus revealed
to them the f uture only as they were best able to bear it, and even
then, to console their anguish and to support their faith, He told
them quite distinctly, that on the third day He should rise again.
But the human mind has a singular capacity for rejecting that
which it cannot comprehend — for ignoring and forgetting all that
does not fall within the range of its previous conceptions. The
1 Matt. x. 38 ; John iii. 14. But now ijpt-aTO Ssixvveiv 266 (Matt. xvi. 21). A
still further gradation, a still clearer prophecy, may be observed from time to
time as the day approached (Matt. xvi. 21 ; xvii. 22 ; xx. 18 ; xxvi. 2).
2 Mark viii. 32, xai ita/5pijdia rdv Xoyov iXdXEi.im Earlier and dimmer
intimations were John ii. 19 (" Destroy this Temple ") ; iii. 14 (" shall the Son of
Man be lifted up ") ; Matt. ix. 15 (" the Bridegroom shall be taken away from
them ") ; John vi. 51 (" my flesh will I give for the life of the world"); Matt. xvi.
4 (" the sign of the prophet Jonas ").
3 Matt. xvi. 21, ditoxravBrjvai, but in xx. 19, dravpaodai. The manner of
His death was, however, distinctly intimated in the metaphor of " taking up the
cross," immediately afterwards (xvi. 241.

376 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Apostles, ever faithful and ever simple in their testimony, never con
ceal from us their dulness of spiritual insight, nor the dominance of
Judaic preconceptions over their minds. They themselves confess to
us how sometimes they took the literal for the figurative,1 and some
times the figurative for the literal." They heard the announcement,
but they did not realize it. " They understood not this saying, and
it was hid from them, that they perceived it not." 3 Now as on so
many other occasions a supernatural awe was upon them, " and they
feared to ask Him." 4 The prediction of His end was so completely
alien from their whole habit of thought, that they would only put it
aside as irrelevant and unintelligible — some mystery which they
could not fathom ; and as regards the resurrection, when it was again
prophesied to the most spiritual among them all, they could only
question among one another what the rising from the dead should
mean.6 But Peter, in his impetuosity, thought that he understood, and
thought that he could prevent ; and so he interrupted those solemn
utterances by his ignorant and presumptuous zeal. The sense that it
had been given to him to perceive and utter a new and mighty truth,
together with the splendid eulogium and promise which he had just
received, combined to inflate his intellect and misguide his heart ;
and taking Jesus by the hand or by the robe," he led Him a step
or two aside from the disciples, and began to advise, to instruct, to
rebuke his Lord. " God forbid," ' he said ; " this shall certainly not
happen to thee." With a flash of sudden indignation our Lord
rebuked his worldliness and presumption. Turning away from him,
fixing His eyes on the other disciples, and speaking in the hearing of
them all — for it was fit that they who had heard the words of vast
1 Ex. gr., the leaven of the Pharisees (Matt. xvi. 7) ; the meat they know not of
(John iv. 32) ; the sleep of death (John xi. 12).
" What defileth a man (Matt. xv. 17). See too John xi. 11,16. (Lange, iii. 241.)
3 Luke ix. 45.
4 Mark ix. 32 ; Luke ii. 50 ; xviii. 34.
5 Mark ix. 10.
B Matt. xvi. 22, itpodXafiopsvoi avrov.tei There is, as Stier points out (ii. 328),
a happy instinctive irony in the r/p^aro iitiripavus of Mark viii. 32, compared
to the f/p^aro SiS ddxsiv ™ of verse 31.
7 Such seems to be the meaning of 'iXEGoi doi, KvpiE (Matt. xvi. 22). It is lit
erally " [May God be] merciful to thee," rather than, as in the margin of the E. V.
" pity thyself." The phrase is a kind of expletive, like Di meliora ! praeflscini !
Di averruncent ! in Latin ; and Gott bewahre ! in German. The Hebrew expres
sion to which it corresponds is sometimes rendered in the LXX. by prj yevoiro
and prjSapaoi (Josh. xxii. 29 ; 1 Sam. xii. 23; xx. 2). (See Schleusner, Lex. in
N. T.. s. v.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 377
promise should hear also the crushing rebuke — He exclaimed, " Get
thee behind me, Satan ! thou art a stumbling-block unto me ; for thy
thoughts are not the thoughts of God, but of men." This thy mere
carnal and human view — this attempt to dissuade me from my
"baptism of death" — is a sin against the purposes of God.1 Peter
was to learn — would that the Church which professes to have inher
ited from him its exclusive and superhuman claims had also learnt in
time! — that he was far indeed from being infallible — that he was
capable of falling, aye, and with scarcely a moment's intermission,
from heights of divine insight into depths of most earthly folly.
" Get thee behind me, Satan ! " — the very words which He had
used to the tempter in the wilderness. The rebuke was strong, yet
to our ears it probably conveys a meaning far more violent than it
would have done to the ears that heard it. The word Satan means
no more than " adversary," and, as in many passages of the Old Tes
tament, is so far from meaning the great Adversary of mankind, that
it is even applied to opposing angels. The word, in fact, was among
the Jews, as in the East generally, and to this day, a very common
one for anything bold, powerful,, dangerous — for every secret oppo
nent or open enemy." But its special applicability in this instance
rose from the fact that Peter was in truth adopting the very fine of
argument which the Tempter himself had adopted in the wilderness.
And in calling Peter an offence (axdvdaXov), Jesus probably again
alluded to his name, and compared him to a stone in the path over
which the wayfarer stumbles. The comparison must have sunk
deeply into the Apostle's mind, for he too in his Epistle warns his
readers against some to whom, because they believe not, the Head-
1 " Those whose intentions towards us are the best," says Stier, ' ' are the most
dangerous to us when their intentions are merely human " (ii. 332). How often,
alas ! are a man's real foes they of his own household ; his friends, who love him
best, become in their worldliness his worst enemies. They drag him down from
heights of self-sacrifice to the vulgar, the conventional, the comfortable.
2 For instance, in Numb. xxii. 22, 32, the same Hebrew word l?'f is twice used
of the angel who went to withstand Balaam ; in 1 Kings xi. 14 it is used of Hadad,
and in verse 23 of Rezon ; in 1 Sam. xxix. 4 the Philistines use it of David. See
too Ps. cix. 6, marg., &e. (v. infr., p. 193). The same remark is true of the
Koran. Among the Rabbis are to be found such expressions as, ' ' When the bull
rushes at a man, Satan leaps up between his horns." They always drag the
notion in when they can, as in Targ. Jonath. , Exod. xxxii. 19, &c. " If a woman's
hair is uncovered," says R. Simeon, " evil spirits come and sit upou it " (Wetstein,
ad 1 Cor. xi. 10). "'If that young Sheit . . ,' I exclaimed, ' about to use an
epithet generally given in the East to such adventurous youths,' " &c. (Layard's
Nineveh, i. 287). Layard adds in a note that Sheitan is usually applied to a clever,
cunning, daring fellow.
48

378 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
stone of the Corner became " a stone of stumbling and a rock of
offence" (net pa GnavdaXov, 1 Pet. ii. 8).
But having thus warned and rebuked the ignorant affection of
unspiritual effeminacy in His presumptuous Apostle, the Lord gra
ciously made the incident an occasion for some of His deepest teach
ing, which He not only addressed to His disciples, but to all.1 We
learn quite incidentally from St. Mark, that even in these remote
regions His footsteps were sometimes followed by attendant crowds,"
who usually walked at a little distance from Him and His disciples,
but were sometimes called to Him to hear the gracious words which
proceeded out of His mouth. And alike they and His disciples were
as yet infected with the false notions which had inspired the impetu
ous interference of Peter. To them, therefore, He addressed the
words which have taught us for ever that the essence of all highest
duty, the meaning of all truest life — alike the most acceptable ser
vice to God, and the most ennobling example to men — is involved
in the law of self-sacrifice.3 It was on this occasion that He spoke
those few words which have produced so infinite an effect on the
conscience of mankind. "What is. a man profited, if he shall gain
the whole world, and lose his" own soul ? or what shall a man give in
exchange for his soul ? " And then, after warning them that He
should Himself be judged, He consoled them under this shock of unex
pected revelation by the assurance that there were some standing there
who should not taste of death till they had seen the Son of Man
coming in His kingdom. If, as all Scripture shows, " the kingdom
of the Son of Man " be understood in a sense primarily spiritual, then
there can be no difficulty in understanding this prophecy in the sense
that, ere all of them passed away, the foundations of that kingdom
should have been established for ever in the abolition of the old and
the establishment of the new dispensation. Three of them were imme
diately to see Him transfigured ; 4 all but one were to be witnesses
of His resurrection ; one at least — the beloved disciple — was to sur-
1 Luke ix. 23.
2 Cf. Mark viii. 34 ; vii. 24.
3 The metaphorical sense cf " taking up the cross " is well illustrated by Plato,
De Rep. ii. 362 A., dvadxivSvXEvBijdsrai. 2 Cor. iii. 18 ; Rom. xii. 2 could lead to
no mistake.
4 The translators of our Bible seem to have understood the Transfiguration as
the first fulfilment of the prophecy, by separating it from the verses which pre
cede it in St. Mark (ix. 1), and making it introduce the following narrative. Cf. 2
Pet. i. 16 : " eye-witnesses (iitoitrai) of His majesty" is there referred expressly
to the Transfiguration, and appealed to as the confirmation of the preaching which
had proclaimed " the power and coming " of Christ. See, too, 1 John i. 1 ; iv. 14

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 379
vive that capture of Jerusalem and destruction of the Temple which
were to render impossible any literal fulfilment of the Mosaic law.
And the prophecy may have deeper meanings yet than these — mean
ings still more real because they are still more wholly spiritual. " If
we wish not to fear death," says St. Ambrose, " let us stand where
Christ is ; Christ is your Life ; He is the very Life which cannot
die."

380 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXYI.
the transfiguration.
"And this voice which came from heaven we heard, when we were with Him
in the holy mount." — 2 Peter i. 18.
None of the Evangelists tell us about the week which followed
this memorable event. They tell us only that " after six days " He
took with Him the three dearest and most enlightened of His disci
ples,1 and went with them — the expression implies a certain solem
nity of expectation " — up a lofty mountain, or, as St. Luke calls it,
simply " the mountain."
The supposition that the mountain intended was Mount Tabor has
been engrained for centuries in the tradition of the Christian Church ;
and three churches and a monastery erected before the close of the
sixth century attest the unhesitating acceptance of this belief. Yet
it is almost certain that Tabor was not the scene of that great epiph
any. The rounded summit of that picturesque and wood-crowned
hill, which forms so fine a feature in the landscape, as the traveller
approaches the northern limit of the plain of Esdraelon, had proba
bly from time immemorial been a fortified and inhabited spot,3 and
less than thirty years after this time, Josephus, on this very mountain,
strengthened the existing fortress of Itaburion. This, therefore,
was not a spot to which Jesus could have taken the three Apostles
" apart by themselves." Nor, again, is there the slightest intimation
that the six intervening days had been spent in travelling southwards
from Csesarea Phifippi, the place last mentioned ; on the contrary, it
is distinctly intimated by St. Mark (ix. 30), that Jesus did not " pass
through Gafilee " (in which Mount Tabor is situated), till after the
events here narrated. Nor again does the comparatively insignificant
hill Paneum, which is close by Csesarea Phifippi, fulfil the require-
1 Matt. xvii. 1—13 ; Mark ix. 2—13 ; Luke ix. 28—36. The *' about eight days
after " of St. Luke (ix. 28) is merely an inclusive reckoning, but is one of the
touches which are valuable as showing the independence of his narrative, which
gives us several new particulars.
" dvaqoipsi. Comp. Luke xxiv. 51.
3 Chisloth-tabor (Josh. xix. 12 ; Judg. iv. 6).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 381
ments of the narrative.1 It is, therefore, much more natural to sup
pose that our Lord, anxious to traverse the Holy Land of His birth
to its northern limit, journeyed slowly forward till He reached the
lower slopes of that splendid snow-clad mountain, whose glittering
mass, visible even as far southward as the Dead Sea, magnificently
closes the northern frontier of Palestine — the Mount Hermon of
Jewish poetry. Its very name means " the mountain," and the scene
which it witnessed would well suffice to procure for it the distinction
of being the only mountain to which in Scripture is attached the epi
thet " holy." " On those dewy pasturages, cool and fresh with the
breath of the snow-clad heights above them, and offering that noble
solitude, among the grandest scenes of Nature^ which He desired as
the refreshment of His soul for the mighty struggle which was now
so soon to come, Jesus would find many a spot where He could kneel
with His disciples absorbed in silent prayer.
And the coolness and solitude would be still more delicious to the
weariness of the Man of Sorrows after the burning heat of the East
ern day and the incessant publicity which, even in these remoter
regions, thronged his steps. It was the evening hour when He
ascended,3 and as He climbed the hill-slope with those three- chosen
witnesses — " the Sons of Thunder and the Man of Rock " — doubt
less a solemn gladness dilated His whole soul ; a sense not ¦ only of
the heavenly calm which that solitary communion with His Heavenly
Father would breathe upon the spirit, but still more than this, a sense
that He would be supported for the coming hour by ministrations
not of earth, and illuminated with a light which needed no aid from
sun or moon or stars. He went up to be prepared for death, and He
took His three Apostles with Him that, haply, having seen His glory
— the glory of the only Begotten of the Father, full of grace and
truth — their hearts might be fortified, their faith strengthened, to
gaze unshaken on the shameful insults and unspeakable humiliation
of the cross.
There, then, He knelt and prayed, and as He prayed He was ele
vated far above the toil and miseiy of the world which had rejected
Him. He was transfigured before them, and His countenance shone
as the sun, and His garments became white as the dazzling snow-
fields above them. He was enwrapped in such an aureole of glister
ing brilliance — His whole presence breathed so divine a radiance —
1 HavEiov. The towu is called on coins Kaiddpsia vito LTavEiao.
2 2 Peter i. 18.
3 This is evident from Luke ix. 32, 37, especially when compared with Luke
vi. 12.

382 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
that the light, the snow, the lightning ' are the only things to which
the Evangelist can compare that celestial lustre. And, lo! two
figures were by His side." " When, in the desert, He was girding
Himself for the work of life, angels of life came and ministered
unto Him ; now, in the fair world, when He is girding Himself for
the work of death, the ministrants come to Him from the grave —
but from the grave conquered — one from that tomb under Abarim,
which His own hand had sealed long ago ; the other from the rest
into which He had entered without seeing corruption. There stood
by Him Moses and Elias, and spake of His decease. And when
the prayer is ended, the task accepted, then first since the star paused
over Him at Bethlehem, the full glory falls upon Him from heaven,
and the testimony is borne to His everlasting sonship and power —
'Hear ye Him.'"3
It is clear, from the fuller narrative of St. Luke, that the three
Apostles did not witness the beginning of this marvellous transfigu
ration. An Oriental, when his prayers are over, wraps himself in
his abba* and, lying down on the grass, in the open air, sinks in a
moment into profound sleep. And the Apostles, as afterwards they
slept at Gethsemane, so now they slept on Hermon. They were
heavy, " weighed down " with sleep, when suddenly starting into full
wakefulness of spirit, they saw and heard.'
1 Xsvxd Goi to cpGoi (Matt. xvii. 2) ; Xsvxd Xiav obi xigov (Mark ix. 3) ; Xsvxdi
. . . it-adrpaitraiv (Luke ix. 29). It is interesting to observe that St. Luke,
writing for Greeks and Romans, avoids the word perepopcpaaBr) 211 used by the
other Evangelists, because his readers would associate that word with the con
ceptions with which they were familiar in Nicander, Antoninus Liberalis, and
Ovid. (See Valcknaer, quoted by Bishop Wordsworth, ad loc.)
2 The xai iSov 2'2 of Matt. xvii. 3 shows how intense was the impression which
the scene had made on the imagination of those who witnessed it. " The two
who appeared to Him were the representatives of the Law and the Prophets :
both had been removed from this world in a mysterious manner ; . . . both,
like the greater One with whom they spoke, had endured that supernatural fast
of forty days and nights ; both had been on the holy mount in the visions of
God. And now they came, solemnly, to consign into His hands, once and for all,
in a symbolical and glorious representation, their delegated and expiring power."
(Alford.) 3 Ruskin, Mod. Painters, iii. 392.
4 Hence the merciful provision of the Mosaic law, that the outer robe was to
be restored at night if taken as a pledge for debt. (See Exod. xxii. 26.)
5 So I would render Siaypyyoprfdavrsi in Luke ix. 32. It is a non-classical
word, and has this meaning in Byzantine writers. Or perhaps the Sia may imply
" waking after an interval " — " in the middle of it all." Both the context and
the grammar sufficiently show that (though it occurs here only in the N. T.) it
cannot mean "having kept awake," as Alford and Archbishop Trench (following
Rost and Palm) render it.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 383
In the darkness of the night, shedding an intense gleam over the
mountain herbage, shone the glorified form of their Lord. Beside
Him, in the same flood of golden glory,1 were two awful shapes,
which they knew or heard to be Moses and Efijah. And the Three
spake together, in the stillness, of that coming decease at Jerusalem,
about which they had just been forewarned by Christ.
And as the splendid vision ' began to fade — as the majestic visit
ants were about to be separated from their Lord, as their Lord Him
self passed with them into the overshadowing brightness — Peter,
anxious to delay their presence, amazed, startled, transported, not
knowing what he said3 — not knowing that Calvary would be a
spectacle infinitely more transcendant than Hermon — not knowing
that the Law and the Prophets were now fulfilled — not fully know
ing that his Lord was unspeakably greater than the Prophet of Sinai
and the Avenger of Carmel — exclaimed, " Rabbi, it is best for us to
be here ; 4 and let us make three tabernacles, one for thee, and one
for Moses, and one for Elias." Jesus might have smiled at the naive
proposal of the eager Apostle, that they six should dwell for ever in
fittle succdth of wattled boughs on the slopes of Hermon. But it
was not for Peter to construct the universe for his personal satisfac
tion. He had to learn the meaning of Calvary no less than that of
Hermon. Not in cloud of glory or chariot of fire was Jesus to pass
away from them, but with arms outstretched in agony upon the
accursed tree ; not between Moses and Elias, but between two
thieves, who " were crucified with Him, on either side one."
No answer was vouchsafed to his wild and dreamy words ; but,
even as he spake, a cloud — not a cloud of thick darkness as at Sinai,
but a cloud of light, a Shechinah of radiance — overshadowed them,
and a voice from out of it uttered, " This is my beloved Son ; hear
Him." They fell prostrate, and hid their faces on the grass.3 And
as, — awakenhig from the overwhelming shock of that awful voice,
of that enfolding Light — they raised their eyes and gazed suddenly
1 ocpBivrEi iv 5o'ij7 (Luke ix. 31).
' rd opapa (Matt. xvii. 9). The word, which occurs eleven times in the Acts,
but not elsewhere in the N. T., is applied to dreams (Acts xvi. 10 ; xviii. 9) and
ecstacies (Acts xi. 5), but also to any impression on the spirit which is as clear as
an impression on the senses (Acts vii. 81). Hence Phavorinus says, opdpard
Eidi itpocprjrGov, oda iypr/yoporEi fiXiitovdi oi itpocpfjrai."3
3 This touch in all probability comes to us from St. Peter himself (Mark ix. 6).
" xaXdv in the New Testament seems sometimes to have a superlative sense.
Cf. Matt, xviii. 8; xxvi. 24, &c, and Gen. xxxviii. 26, where 3W means "better,"
as " bona," in Plaut. Rud. iv. 4, 70. (Schleusner, s. v.)
* Matt. xvii. 6.

384 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
all around them,1 they found that all was over. The bright cloud
had vanished. The lightning-like gleams of shining countenances
and dazzling robes had passed away ; '* they were alone with Jesus,
and only the stars rained their quiet lustre on the mountain slopes.
At first they were afraid to rise or stir, but Jesus, their Master —
as they had seen Him before He knelt in prayer, came to them,
touched them — said, "Arise, and be not afraid."
And so the day dawned on Hermon, and they descended the hill ;
and as they descended, He bade them tell no man until He had risen
from the dead. The vision was for them ; it was to be pondered over
by them in the depths of their own hearts in self-denying reticence ;
to announce it to their fellow-disciples might only awake their jealousy
and their own self-satisfaction ; until the resurrection it would add
nothing to the faith of others, and might only confuse their concep
tions of what was to be His work on earth. They kept Christ's
command, but they could not attach any meaning to this allusion.
They could only ask each other, or muse in silence, what this resur
rection from the dead could mean. And another serious question
weighed upon their spirits. They had seen Elias. They now knew
more fully than ever that their Lord was indeed the Christ. Yet
" how say the Scribes " — and had not the Scribes the prophecy of
1 Mark ix. 8, i^ditiva itEpifiXEibdpevoi (cf. Matt. xvii. 8), one of the many
inimitably graphic touches of truthfulness and simplicity — touches never yet
found in any " myth" since the world began — with which in all three Evangel
ists this narrative abounds. We have proofs that on two of the three spectators
this scene made an indelible impression. St. John most clearly alludes to it in
John i. 14 ; 1 John i. 1. St. Peter (if, as I believe, the Second Epistle is genuine)
is dwelling on it in 2 Peter i. in a manner all the more striking because it is partly
unconscious. Thus, he not only appeals to it in confirmation of his preaching,
but he uses just before the unusual word i'^odoi for " death " [2 Peter i. 15 (cf.
Luke ix. 31) : it is, however, possible that S6%av may here be the reading, as it
seems to have been read by St. Chrysostom], and dxrjvGopa (ver. 13 ; cf. Matt.
xvii. 4) for " tabernacle ; " and immediately after speaks (ver. 19) of " a light
shining in a dark place," and immediately preceding the dawn — which is another,
and, so far as I am aware, hitherto unnoticed trace of the fact that the Transfigu
ration (of which the writer's mind is here so full) took place by night. On the
word i%o8oi Bengel finely remarks, " Vocabulum valde grave, quo continetur
passio, crux, mors, resurrectio, adscensio." 2H Archbishop Trench aptly compares
"Post obitum, vel potius excessum, Romuli" 215 (Cic. Rep. ii. 30), and says that St.
Peter by the word iit6itrr;im (2 Peter i. 16) seems to imply a sort of initiation
into holy mysteries (Studies in the Gospels, p. 206). Many have resolved the nar
rative of the Transfiguration into a myth ; it is remarkable that, in this verse, St.
Peter is expressly repudiating the very kind of myths (pvBoi dEdocpidpivoii under
which this would be classed.
2 "Finis legis Christus ; Lex et Prophetia ex Verbo ; quae autem ex Verbo coe-
perunt, in Verbo desinunt " 2" (St. Ambrose). (Wordsworth, in Matt. xvii. 8.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 385
Malachi in their favor ? * — " that Elias must first come and restore
all things ? " And then our Lord gently led them to see that Elias
indeed had come, and had not been recognized, and had received at
the hand of his nation the same fate which was soon to happen to
Him whom he announced. Then understood they that He spake to
them of John the Baptist."
1 Mai. iv. 5. The LXX., without any authority from the Hebrew, read here
'HXiav rov @sdfiirrjv.2n
2 Luke i. 17, " in the spirit and power of Elias ; " cf. Matt. xi. 10. The Jewish
expectation of Elias is well known. A thing of unknown ownership may be kept
by the finder " till the coming of Elias." He was to restore to the Jews the pot
of manna, the rod of Aaron, &c, and his coming generally was to be a xpdvoi
ditoxaradrddEGoi™ (cf. Acts iii. 21). See Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. in Matt. xvii.
10, 11. 49

386 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXVH.
THE DEMONIAC BOY.
Tivii Se qoadiv on f) oijni avrov abpaiorspa yivopdvrj and rov qocordi
. . . icpsiXxero rovi oxXovi?m — Theophtl.
The imagination of all readers of the Gospels has been struck by
the contrast — a contrast seized and immortalized for ever in the
great picture of Raphael — between the peace, the glory the heavenly
communion on the mountain heights, and the confusion, the rage,
the unbefief, the agony which marked the first scene that met the
eyes of Jesus and His Apostles on their descent to the low levels of
human life.1
For in their absence an event had occurred which filled the other
disciples with agitation and alarm. They saw a crowd assembled
and Scribes among them, who with disputes and victorious innuen
does were pressing hard upon the diminished band of Christ's chosen
friends." Suddenly at this crisis the multitude caught sight of Jesus.
Something about His appearance, some unusual majesty, some lin
gering radiance, filled them with amazement, and they ran up to
Him with salutations.3 "What is your dispute with them?" He
sternly asked of the Scribes. But the Scribes were too much abashed,
the disciples were too self-conscious of their faithlessness and failure,
to venture on any reply. Then out of the crowd struggled a man,
who, kneeling before Jesus, cried out, in a loud voice,4 that he was
the father of an only son whose demoniac possession was shown by
epilepsy, in its most raging symptoms, accompanied by dumbness, -
atrophy, and a suicidal mania. He had brought the miserable suf
ferer to the disciples to cast out the evil spirit, but their failure had
occasioned the taunts of the Scribes.
1 Matt. xvii. 14—21 ; Mark ix. 14—29 ; Luke ix. 37—45.
2 There were, of course, many Jews, and therefore naturally there would be
Scribes, in the kingdom of Philip.
3 Mark ix. 14. We here follow mainly the full and vivid narrative of St. Mark.
4 Matt. xvii. 14 ; Luke ix. 38.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 387
The whole scene grieved Jesus to the heart. " O faithless and
perverse generation," He exclaimed, "how long shall I be with you?
how long shall I suffer you ? " This cry of His indignation seemed
meant for all — for the merely curious multitude, for the malicious
Scribes, for the half-believing and faltering disciples: " Bring him
hither to me."
The poor boy was brought, and no sooner had his eye fallen on
Jesus, than he was seized with another paroxysm of his malady. He
fell on the ground in violent convulsions, and rolled there with foam
ing lips. It was the most deadly and intense form of epileptic lunacy
on which our Lord had ever been called to take compassion.1
He paused before He acted. He would impress the scene in all
its horror on the thronging multitude, that they might understand
that the failure was not of Him. He would at the same time invoke, .
educe, confirm the wavering faith of the agonized suppliant.
"How long has this happened to him?"
" From childhood : and often hath it flung him both into fire and
into water to destroy him ; but if at all thou canst, take pity on us
and help us."
"If thou canst?"* answered Jesus — giving him back his own
word — "all things are possible to him- that believeth."
And then the poor hapless father broke out into that cry, uttered
by so many millions since, and so deeply applicable to an age which,
like our own, has been described as " destitute of faith, yet terrified
at scepticism " — " lard, I believe / help thou mine unbelief?'
Meanwhile, during this short colloquy, the crowd had been gather
ing more and more, and Jesus, turning to the sufferer, said, " Dumb
and deaf spirit, I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more
into him." A yet wilder cry, a yet more fearful convulsion followed
His words, and then the boy lay on the ground, no longer wallowing
and foaming, but still as death. Some said, " He is dead." But
Jesus took him by the hand, and, amid the amazed exclamations of
the multitude, restored him to his father, calm and cured.
1 Matt. xvii. 15, dsXr/vidZsrai xai xaxmi itddXEi.iil This describes, at any
rate, the natural side of his malady ; but there is, in truth, to such maladies no
purely natural side. They belong to some mystery of inquity which we can
never understand. They are due, not to the dradiim but to the ditddradii2*"
of human nature.
2 This seems to be the force of Mark ix. 23, siitsv avrcS rd si Svvadai
itidrEvdai, itdvra Sward rap Ttidrevovri, which is the best reading (x, B, C,
L, and some versions). For this use of rd see Matt. xix. 18 ; Luke ix. 46, &c. " As
for the ' if thou canst ' — all things are, &c." It is taken thus by the iEthiopic
version, and "proclivi lectioni praestat ardua." 284

388 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Jesus had previously given to His disciples the power of casting
out devils, and this power was even exercised in His name by
some who were not among His professed disciples.1 Nor had
they ever failed before. It was therefore natural that they should
take the first private opportunity to ask Him the cause of their dis
comfiture. He told them frankly that it was because of their unbe
lief. It may be that the sense of His absence weakened them ; it
may be that they felt less able to cope with difficulties while Peter
and the sons of Zebedee were also away from them ; it may be, too,
that the sad prophecy of His rejection and death had worked with
sinister effect on the minds of the weakest of them. But, at any
rate, He took this opportunity to teach them two great lessons : the
one, that there are forms of spiritual, physical, and moral evil so
intense and so inveterate, that they can only be exorcised by prayer,
united to that self-control and self-denial of which fasting is the most
effectual and striking symbol ; " the other, that to a perfect faith all
things are possible. Faith, like a grain of mustard-seed, could even
say to Hermon itself,3 " Be thou removed, and cast into the waves of
the Great Sea, and it should obey."
Jesus had now wandered to the utmost northern limit of the Holy
Land, and He began to turn His steps homewards. We see from
St. Mark that His return was designedly secret and secluded, and
possibly not along the high roads, but rather through the hills and
valleys of Upper Galilee to the westward of the Jordan.4 His object
was no longer to teach the multitudes who had been seduced into
rejecting Him, and among whom He could hardly appear in safety,
but to continue that other and even more essential part of His work,
which consisted in the training of His Apostles. And now the con

1 Mark ix. 38.
2 It must, however, be noticed that the xai vT/drEia 286 (Mark ix. 29) is a more
than dubious reading. It is not found in X or B, and the corresponding verse in
Matt. xvii. 21 is omitted by X, B, as well as by various versions. Tischendorf
omits both. See, however, Matt. vi. 16 — 18 ; ix. 15.
8 "Removing mountains" was among the Jews a common hyperbole for the
conquest of stupendous difficulties. A great teacher was called by the Rabbis
onn -\py (goker hdrim), or " uprooter of mountains." See many instances in
Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. in Matt. xxi. 21.
4 For the variety of readings on Matt. xvii. 22, dvadrpEcpopivrnv, dvdrpscp.,
drpEcp., &c, see Keim, Gesch. Jesu, ii. 581. The itapEitopsvovro of Mark ix. 30-
is of uncertain meaning. We have already considered it in Mark ii. 23 (cf. Matt.
xii. 1) [v. supra, p. 332] ; and in Mark xi. 20 ; xv. 29, it means " passing by," as
in Matt, xxvii. 39, the only other passage where it occurs. In Deut. ii. 14, it is
simply used for T2?, " he walked."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 389
stant subject of His teaching l was His approaching betrayal, murder,
and resurrection. But He spoke to dull hearts ; in their deep-seated
prejudice they ignored his clear warnings, in their faithless timidity
they would not ask for further enlightenment. We cannot see more
strikingly how vast was the change which the resurrection wrought
in them than by observing with what simple truthfulness they record
the extent and inveteracy of their own shortcomings, during those
precious days while the Lord was yet among them.
The one thing which they did seem to realize was that some
strange and memorable issue of Christ's life, accompanied by some
great development of the Messianic kingdom, was at hand ; and this
unhappily produced the only effect in them which it should not have
produced. Instead of stimulating their self-denial, it awoke their
ambition ; instead of confirming their love and humility, it stirred
them up to jealousy and pride. On the road — remembering, per
haps, the preference which had been shown at Hermon to Peter and
the sons of Zebedee — they disputed among themselves, "Which
should be the greatest ? "
At the time our Lord took no notice of the dispute. He left their
own consciences to work. But when they reached Capernaum and
were in the house, then He asked them, " What they had been dis
puting about on the way ? " " Deep shame kept them silent, and that
silence was the most eloquent confession of their sinful ambitions.
Then He sat down, and taught them again, as He had done so often,
that he who would be first must be last of all, and servant of all, and
that the road to honor is humility. And wishing to enforce this les
son by a symbol of exquisite tenderness and beauty, He called to
Him a little child, and set it in the midst, and then, folding it in his
arms, warned them that unless they could become as humble as that
fittle child, they could not enter into the kingdom of heaven.3 They
were to be as children in the world ; and he who should receive even
one such fittle child in Christ's name, should be receiving Him, and
the Father who sent Him.
' Mark ix. 81, iSiSadusv . . . k'XsyEv.
2 See, for what follows, Matt, xviii. 1—35 ; Mark ix. 33—50 ; Luke ix. 46—50 ;
which three passages I assume to be one and the same continuous discourse sug
gested by the same incidents, but told with varying completeness by the three
Evangelists. 3 The impossible tradition — mentioned by Nicephorus — that this was the
martyr St. Ignatius, perhaps arose from a mistaken interpretation of his name
®eoa>6poi as though it had been Qsocpopoi; but this name was derived from his
celebrated interview with Trajan.

390 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
The expression " in my name " seems to have suggested to St.
John a sudden question, which broke the thread of Christ's discourse.
They had seen, he said, a man who was casting out devils in Christ's
name ; but since the man was not one of them, they had forbidden
him. Had they done right ? •
" No," Jesus answered ; " let the prohibition be removed." He
who could do works of mercy in Christ's name could not lightly
speak evil of that name. He who was not against them was with
them. Sometimes indifference is opposition ; sometimes neutrality
is aid." "
And then, gently resuming His discourse — the child yet nestling
in His arms, and furnishing the text for His remarks — He warned
them of the awful guilt and peril of offending, of tempting, of mis
leading, of seducing from the paths of innocence and righteousness,
of teaching any wicked thing, or suggesting any wicked thought to
one of those little ones, whose angels see the face of His Father in
heaven. Such wicked men and seducers, such human performers of
the devil's work — addressing them in words of more bitter, crushing
import than any which He ever uttered — a worse fate, He said,
awaited them, than to be flung with the heaviest millstone round
their neck into the sea.3
And He goes on to warn them that no sacrifice could be too great
if it enabled them to escape any possible temptations to put such
stumbling-blocks in the way of their own souls, or the souls of others.
Better cut off the right hand, and enter heaven maimed — better
hew off the right foot, and enter heaven halt — better tear out the
1 Bruce (Training of the Twelve, p. 234) quotes an apt illustration from the life
of Baxter, whose followers condemned Sir Matthew Hale as unconverted, because
he did not attend their weekly prayer meetings ! " I," said Baxter 
" that have seen his love to all good men, and the blamelessness of his life,
thought better of his piety than of mine own." (Reliquiae Baxter, iii. 47.)
2 On another occasion Christ had said what seemed to be the reverse of this —
viz., " He who is not with me is against me " (Matt. xii. 30). But it is easy to see
that the two truths are but complementary to each other. " Qui n'a appris dans
le cours d'une vie active, que, selon les circonstances et les personnes, celui qui
s'abstient de concourir et se tient a T e"cart tantot donne appui et force, tantQt au
contraire nuit et entrfive " 266 (Guizot, Medit. i. 279). Contrast the quiet insight
and wisdom of this remark with Renan's " deux regies de proselytisme tout a fait
opposees et une contradiction amenee par une lutte passionnee. " 2S" Cf. Sueton,
Jul. Caes. 75 : " Denuntiante Pompeio, pro hostibus se habiturum qui reipublicae
defuissent, ipse medios et neutrius partis suorum sibi numero fut'uros pronuntia-
vit."288 (I owe this remarkably apposite reference to Mr. Garuett.)
* MvXoi ovixoi (Matt, xviii. 6 ; Luke xvii. 2). The rechem, or runner-stone, i. e.
the upper millstone, so heavy as to be turned by an ass.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 391
right eye, and enter heaven blind — than suffer hand or foot or eye
to be the ministers of sins which should feed the undying worm or
kindle the quenchless flame. Better be drowned in this world with
a millstone round the neck, than carry that moral and spiritual mill
stone of unresisted temptation which can drown the guilty soul in
the fiery lake of alienation and despair. For just as salt is sprinkled
over every sacrifice for its purification, so must every soul be purged
by fire ; by the fire, if need be, of the severest and most terrible
self-sacrifice. Let this refining, purging, purifying fire of searching
self -judgment and self -severity be theirs. Let not this salt lose its
savor, nor this fire its purifying power. " Have salt in yourselves,
and be at peace with one another." '
And thus, at once to confirm the duty of this mutual peace which
they had violated, and to show them that, however deeply rooted be
God's anger against those who lead others astray, they must never
cherish hatred even against those who had most deeply injured them,
He taught them how, first by private expostulation, then if necessary
by public appeal, at once most gently and most effectually to deal
with an offending brother. Peter, in the true spirit of Judaic
formalism, wanted a specific limit to the number of times when for
giveness should be granted; but Jesus taught that the times of
forgiveness should be practically unlimited." He illustrated that
teaching by the beautiful parabje of the servant, who, having been
forgiven by his king a debt of ten thousand talents, immediately
afterwards seized his fellow-servant by the throat, and would not
forgive him a miserable little debt of one hundred pence, a sum
1,250,000 times as small as that which he himself had been forgiven.
The child whom Jesus had held in His arms might have understood
that moral; yet how infinitely more deep must its meaning be to
us — who have been trained from childhood in the knowledge of
His atoning love — than it could have been, at the time when it was
spoken, to even a Peter or a John.
1 Isa. xxxiii. 14, 15: "Who among us shall dwell with devouring fire? who
among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings ? He that walketh righteously,
and speaketh uprightly, . . . .he shall dwell on high." We are again
reminded of that fine dypacpov Soy pa already quoted, *' He who is near me, ig
near the fire."
2 The Rabbinic rule only admitted a triple forgiveness, referring to Amos i. 3 ;
Job xxxiii. 29 (marg., " twice " and " thrice").

392 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXYIII.

A BRIEF REST IN CAPERNAUM.

" Vade et scito nos esse in alio regno reges et filios regis." 289 — Luther, in
Matt. xiii.
One more incident, related by St. Matthew only, marked his brief
stay on this occasion in Capernaum.
From time immemorial there was a precedent for collecting, at
least occasionally, on the recurrence of every census, a tax of " half a
shekel, after the shekel of the sanctuary," of every Jew who had
reached the age of twenty years, as a "ransom for his soul," unto
the Lord.1 This money was devoted to the service of the Temple,
and was expended on the purchase of the sacrifices, scapegoats, red
heifers, incense, shewbread, and other expenses of the Temple service.
After the return from the captivity, this be ah, or half -shekel, became
a voluntary annual tax of a third of a shekel ; " but at some subsequent
period it had again returned to its original amount. This tax was
paid by every Jew in every part of the world, whether rich or poor;
and, as on the first occasion of its payment, to show that the souls of
all alike are equal before God, " the rich paid no more, and the poor
no less." It produced vast sums of money, which were conveyed to
Jerusalem by honorable messengers.3
This tax was only so far compulsory that when first demanded, on
the 1st of Adar, the demand was made quietly and civilly ; if, how
ever, it had not been paid by the 25th, then it seems that the collect
ors of the contribution (tobhin shekalim) might take a security for it
from the defaulter.
Accordingly, almost immediately upon our Lord's return to Caper
naum, these tobhin shekalim came to St. Peter, and asked him, quite
1 Exod. xxx. 11 — 16. The English " tribute-money " is vague and incorrect ;
for the tribute was a denarius paid to the Roman emperor.
2 Neh. x. 32.
8 Philo (De Monarch, ii. 3) calls them iepoitopitoi. These collections are
alluded to in Cic. Pro Flaceo, 28 ; Dio Cass. lxvi. 7 ; Jos. B. J. vii. 6, § 6 ; Antt.
xviii. 9, § 1 ; and other passages collected by Wetstein, Lightfoot, &c. Taking
the shekel roughly at Is. 6d., the collection would produce £75,000 for every mill
ion contributors.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 393
civilly, as the Rabbis had directed, " Does not your master pay the
didrachmas?" '
The question suggests two difficulties — viz., Why had our Lord not
been asked for this contribution in previous years ? and why was it now
demanded in autumn, at the approach of the Feast of Tabernacles,
instead of in the month Adar, some six months earlier? The answers
seem to be that priests and eminent rabbis were regarded as exempt
from the tax ; " that our Lord's frequent absence from Capernaum
had caused some irregularity ; and that it was permitted to pay arrears
some time afterwards."
The fact that the collectors inquired of St. Peter instead of asking
Jesus Himself, is another of the very numerous indications of the awe
which He inspired even into the heart of His bitterest enemies ; as
in all probability the fact of the demand being made at all shows a
growing desire to vex His life, and to ignore His dignity. But Peter,
with his usual impetuous readiness, without waiting, as he should
have done, to consult His Master, replied, " Yes." 4
¦ If he had thought a moment longer — if he had known a little
more — if he had even recalled his own great confession so recently
given — his answer might not have come so glibly. This money was,
at any rate, in its original significance, a redemption-money for the
soul of each man ; " and how could the Redeemer, who redeemed all
souls by the ransom of His fife, pay this money-ransom for his own ?
And it was a tax for the Temple services. How, then, could it be
1 The didrachmum was a Greek coin exactly equivalent to half a shekel ; the
stater or silver tetradrachmum was a shekel. The stater and the Roman denarius
(which was rather more than a fourth of its value) were the two common coins at
this time : the actual didrachm had fallen into disuse. It is true that the LXX.
translate shekelby SiSpaxPov and half-shekel by ijpidv rov SiSpdxpov, but it
is now generally agreed that this is because they adopt the Alexandrian, not the
Attic scale. The value of a didrachm was about eighteen-pence. (See Madden,
Hist, of Jewish Coinage, p. 235 ; Leake, Numism. Hellen., Append. 2, 3 ; Akerman,
Numism. lllustr. to the N. Test., p. 14.)
2 So the Pirke Abhdth, iv. 5, quoted by Stier, ii. 362.
3 There even seems to be some evidence (adduced by Greswell, Dissert, ii. 377)
to show that it might be paid at either of the yearly feasts.
4 It appears (Jost, Gesch. des Judenth. i. 218) that there had been a great dispute
between the Pharisees and Sadducees as to whether this tax should be voluntary
or compulsory, and that, after long debate, the Pharisees had carried the day.
Perhaps, therefore, the demand was made of our Lord by way of testing which
side he would take, and if so we may understand His words to St. Peter as sanc
tioning the universal principle that all gifts to God should be given " not grudg
ingly or of necessity." See a very interesting article by Professor Plumptre, in
Smith's Bibl. Diet, on " Tribute."
6 Exod. xxx. 11, 12, eesh kopher, naphshd, Xvrpa rrji Tpvxtfi. (Philo, ubi supr.)
50

394 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
due from Him whose own mortal body was the new spiritual Temple
of the Living God ? He was to enter the vail of the Holiest with
the ransom of His own blood. But He paid what He did not owe,
to save us from that which we owed, but could never pay.1
Accordingly, when Peter entered the house, conscious, perhaps, by
this time, that his answer had been premature — perhaps also con
scious that at that moment there were no means of meeting even this
small demand upon their scanty store — Jesus, without waiting for
any expression of his embarrassment, at once said to him, " What
thinkest thou, Simon ? the kings of the earth, from whom do they
take tolls and taxes ? from their own sons, or from those who are not
their children."
There could be but one answer — " From those who are not their
children." " Then," said Jesus, " the sons are free." I, the Son of the Great
King, -and even thou, who art also His son, though in a different way,
are not bound to pay this tax. If we pay it, the payment must be a
matter, not of positive obligation, as the Pharisees have lately decided,
but of free and cheerful giving.
There is something beautiful and even playful in this gentle way
of showing to the impetuous Apostle the dilemma in which his hasty
answer had placed his Lord. We see in it, as Luther says, the fine,
friendly, loving intercourse which must have existed between Christ
and His disciples. It seems, at the same time, to establish the eternal
principle that religious services should be maintained by spontaneous
generosity and an innate sense of duty rather than in consequence of
external compulsion. But yet, what is lawful is not always expedi
ent, nor is there anything more thoroughly unchristian than the
violent maintenance of the strict letter of our rights. The Chris
tian will always love rather to recede from something of his priv
ilege — to take less than is his due. And so He, in whose steps
all ought to walk, calmly added, " Nevertheless, lest we should offend
them " (put a difficulty or stumbling-block in their way), " go thou
to the sea and cast a hook, and take the first fish that cometh up ;
and opening its mouth thou shalt find a stater : * that take and give
1 Cf. Ps. lxix. 5 ; Aug. Serm. 155.
8 A stater equals four drachmas ; it was a little more than three shillings, and
was exactly the sum required for two people. The tax was not demanded of the
other Apostles, perhaps because Capernaum was not their native town. The
nhulchanim, or bankers to whom it was ordinarily paid, sat in each city to receive
it on Adar 15. (Our information on the subject is mainly derived from the Mishna
tract Shekalin.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 395
unto them for Me and for thee." ' In the very act of submission, as
Bengel finely says, " His majesty gleams forth." He would pay the
contribution to avoid hurting the feelings of any, and especially
because His Apostle had promised it in His behalf : but He could
not pay it in an ordinary way, because that would be to compromise
a principle. In obeying the law of charity, and of self -surrender, He
would also obey the laws of dignity and truth. " He pays the trib
ute, therefore," says Clarius, " but taken from a fish's mouth, that
His majesty may be recognized." "
When Paulus, with somewhat vulgar jocosity, calls this " a miracle
for half-a-crown," he only shows his own entire misconception of the
fine ethical lessons which are involved in the narrative, and which in
this, as in every other instance, separate our Lord's miracles from
those of the Apocrypha. Yet I agree with the learned and thought
ful Olshausen in regarding this as the most difficult to comprehend
of all the Gospel miracles — as being in many respects, sui generis
— as not falling under the same category as the other miracles of
Christ. " It is remarkable," says Archbishop Trench, " and is a
solitary instance of the kind, that the issue of this bidding is not told
us." He goes on, indeed, to say that the narrative is evidently
intended to be miraculous, and this is the impression which it has
almost universally left on the minds of those who read it. Yet the
literal translation of our Lord's words may most certainly be, " on
opening its mouth, thou shalt get, or obtain,3 a stater ; " and although
there is no difficulty whatever in supposing that a fish may have
swallowed the glittering coin as it was accidently dropped into the
water,4 nor should I feel the slightest difficulty in believing — as I
hope that this book, from its first page to its last, will show — that a
miracle might have been wrought, yet the peculiarities both of the
miracle itself and of the manner in which it is narrated, leave in my
mind a doubt as to whether, in this instance,. some essential particular
may not have been either omitted or left unexplained.
1 dvri, "instead of" — because the money was redemption money; "forme
and for thee " — not " for us," because the money was paid differently for each.
Cf. John xx. 17. (Alford.) — An interesting parallel of a king paying his own
tax is adduced by Wetstein.
2 Trench, On the Miracles, p. 406. His entire treatment of this miracle is sug
gestive and beautiful.
3 This is a thoroughly classical and largely substantiated use of svpidxao. See
Liddell and Scott, s. v. ; and for New Testament instances, see Heb. ix. 12 ; Luke
i. 30 ; xi. 9 ; John xii. 14 ; Acts vii. 46.
* Of this there are abundant instances. There is no need to refer to the story
of Polycrates (Herod, iii. 42), or to Augustine, De Civ. Dei, xxii. 8. Mackerel
are to this day constantly caught by their swallowing a glittering piece of tin.

396 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XXXIX.
JESUS AT THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES.
" Ecce Innocens inter peccatores; Justus inter reprobos ; pius inter impro-
bos."290 — L0doi,fhtjs, Vita Christi, p. 118.
It was not likely that Jesus should have been able to live at
Capernaum without the fact of His visit being known to some of the
inhabitants. But it is clear that His stay in the town was very brief,
and that it was of a strictly private character. The discourse and the
incident mentioned in the last chapter are the only records of it which
are left.
But it was now autumn, and all Galilee was in the stir of prepara
tion which preceded the starting of the annual caravan of pilgrims to
one of the three great yearly feasts — the Feast of Tabernacles. That
feast — the Feast of Ingathering — was intended to commemorate the
passage of the Israelites through the wilderness, and was celebrated
with such universal joy, that both Josephus and Philo call it "the
holiest and greatest feast," and it was known among the Jews as
"the Feast" pre-eminently.1 It was kept for seven consecutive days,
from the 15th to the 21st of Tisri, and the eighth day was celebrated
by a holy convocation. During the seven days the Jews, to recall
their desert wanderings, lived in little succdth, or booths made of the
thickly-foliaged boughs of olive, and palm, and pine, and myrtle, and
each person carried in his hands a lulab, consisting of palm-branches,
or willows of the brook, or fruits of peach and citron." During the
week of festivities all the courses of priests were employed in turn ;
seventy bullocks were offered in sacrifice for the seventy nations of
the world ; * the Law was daily read,4 and on each day the Temple
1 jnn. Jos. Antt. viii. 4, § 1 ; xi. 5, § 5. See on the details of this Feast, Numb.
xxix. 12—38 ; Neh. viii. 15 ; 2 Mace. x. 6, 7 ; Exod. xxiii. 16 ; Lev. xxiii. 34, seqq. ;
Deut. xvi. 13—15.
0 Lev. xxiii. 40, marg. (peri etz hadar almost certainly means " citron-tree ; " see
Dr. Royle's b. v. Tappuach in Kitto's Bibl. Oycl.) ; Jos. Antt. iii. 10, § 4, rov
pijXov rov rifi Hspdeai itpodovroi; xiii. 13, § 5, xirpia.
3 Thirteen bullocks the first day, twelve the second, eleven the third, and so on.
4 Neh. viii. 18. Cf . John vii. 19.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 397
trumpets sounded twenty-one times an inspiring and triumphant
blast. The joy of the occasion was doubtless deepened by the fact
that the feast followed but four days after the awful and comforting
ceremonies of the Great Day of Atonement, in which a solemn
expiation was made for the sins of all the people.
On the eve of their departure for this feast the family and relations
of our Lord — those who in the Gospels are invariably called His
"brethren," and some of whose descendants were known to early
tradition as the Desposyni — came to him for the last time with a
well-meant but painful and presumptuous interference. They — like
the Pharisees, and like the multitude, and like Peter — fancied that
they knew better than Jesus Himself that line of conduct which
would best accomplish His work and hasten the universal recogni
tion of His claims. They came to Him with the language of criticism,
of discontent, almost of reproaches and complaints. " Why this
unreasonable and incomprehensible secrecy ? it contradicts thy claims ;
it discourages thy followers. Thou hast disciples in Judsea: go
thither, and let them too see Thy works which Thou doest ? If Thou
doest these things, manifest Thyself to the world." If they could
use such language to their Lord and Master — if they could, as it
were, thus challenge His power to the proof — it is but too plain that
their knowledge of Him was so narrow and inadequate as to justify
the sad parenthesis of the beloved Evangelist — "for not even His
brethren believed on Him." He was a stranger unto His brethren,
even an alien unto His mother's children.1
Such dictation on their part — the bitter fruit of impatient vanity
and unspiritual ignorance — showed indeed a most blamable presump
tion ; ' yet our Lord only answered them with calm and gentle dig
nity. "No; my time to manifest myself to the world — which is
your world also, and which therefore cannot hate you as it hates me
— is not yet come. Go ye up to this feast. I choose not to go up
to this feast, for not yet has my time been fulfilled." 3 So he answered
them, and stayed in Galilee.
" I go not up yet unto this feast " is the rendering of the English
version, adopting the reading ovitoo, "not yet;" but even if ovx,
1 Ps. lxix. 8 ; John vii. 1 — 9.
* As Stier remarks, the pErd(ir;Bi ivrEvBev, "depart hence," of John vii. 3, is
a style of bold imperative which those only could have adopted who presumed on
their close earthly relationship ; and they seem almost ostentatiously to exclude
themselves from the number of His disciples.
3 The dvafiaivao has the sense so frequently found in the present : " I am not
for going up;" " I do not choose to go up."

398 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
" not," be the true reading, the meaning is substantially the same.1
The ovnw in the next clause, "my time has not yet been fulfilled,"
distinctly intimated that such a time would come, and that it was not
His object to intimate to His brethren — whose utter want of sym
pathy and reverence had just been so unhappily displayed — when
that time would be. And there was a reason for this. It was essen
tial for the safety of His life, which was not to end for six months
more — it was essential for the carrying out of His Divine purposes,
which were closely enwoven with the events of the next few days —
that His brethren should not know about His plans. And therefore
He let them depart in the completest uncertainty as to whether or
not He intended to follow them." Certain as they were to be asked
by multitudes whether He was coming to the feast, it was necessary
that they should be able to answer, with perfect truthfulness, that
He was at any rate not coming with them, and that whether He
would come before the feast was over or not they could not tell.
And that this must have occurred, and that this must have been their
answer, is evident from the fact that the one question buzzed about
from ear to ear in those gay and busy streets was, " Where is He ?
is He here already? is He coming?" 3 And as He did not appear,
His whole character, His whole mission, were discussed. The words
of approval were vague and timid, " He is a good man ; " the words
of condemnation were bitter and emphatic, " Nay, but He is a mesith
— He deceiveth the people." But no one dared to speak openly his
full thought about Him ; each seemed to distrust his neighbor ; and
all feared to commit themselves too far while the opinion of the
1 Tischendorf reads ovx with x, D, K, the Cureton Syriac, &c. ; on the other
< hand, ovitoo is the reading of B, E, F, G, H, &c. What seems decisive in favor of
ovx is that it was more likely to be altered than the other ; " proclivi lectioni
praestat ardua." 291
2 As early as the third century after Christ, the philosopher Porphyry, one of
the bitterest aud ablest of those who assaulted Christianity, charged our blessed
Lord with deception in this incident ; and it is therefore clear that in his time the
reading was ovx (ap. Jer. Adv. Pelag. iv. 21). And even an eminent Christian.
commentator like Meyer has supposed that, in this instance, Jesus subsequently
changed His purpose. The latter supposition is precarious, perhaps wholly
irreverent ; the former is utterly senseless. For even if Porphyry supposed that
it could have happened, he must have seen how preposterous was the notion of
St. John's holding such a view. It therefore seems to me a matter of no conse
quence whatever whether ovx or ovitm be read ; for it is quite clear that the
Evangelist saw nothing in the language of our Lord but the desire to exclude His
brethren from any certain knowledge of His plans.
3 John vii. 11, iZtfrovv avrov xai iXsyov, x. r. X. ; "they kept looking for
Him, and saying," &c.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 399
" Jews," and of the leading Priests and Pharisees, had not been fin
ally or decisively declared.
And suddenly, in the midst of all these murmurs and discussions,
in the middle of the feast, Jesus, unaccompanied apparently by His
followers, unheralded by His friends, appeared suddenly in the Tem
ple, and taught. By what route He had reached the Holy City —
how he had passed through the bright thronged streets unnoticed —
whether He joined in the innocent mirth of the festival — whether
He too lived in a fittle succah of palm-leaves during the remainder
of the week, and wandered among the brightly-dressed crowds of
an Oriental gala day with the lulab and citron in His hands —
whether His voice was heard in the Hallel, or the Great Hosanna —
we do not know. All that is told us is that, throwing himself, as it
were, in full confidence on the protection of His disciples from Gal
ilee and those in Jerusalem, He was suddenly found seated in one of
the large halls which opened out of the Temple courts, and there He
taught. For a time they listened to Him in awe-struck silence ; but soon
the old scruples recurred to them. " He is no authorized Rabbi ; He
belongs to no recognized school ; neither the followers of Hillel nor
those of Shammai claim Him ; He is a Nazarene ; He was trained in
the shop of the Galilsean carpenter ; how knoweth this man letters,
having never learned ? " As though the few who are taught of God
— whose learning is the learning of a pure heart and an enlightened
eye and a blameless life — did not unspeakably transcend in wisdom,
and therefore also in the best and truest knowledge, those whose
learning has but come from other men ! It is not the voice of erudi
tion, but it is, as the old Greek thinker says, the voice of Inspiration
— the voice of the divine Sibyl — which, uttering things simple and
unperf umed and unadorned, reacheth through myriads of years.
Jesus understood their looks. He interpreted their murmurs. He
told them that His learning came immediately from His Heavenly
Father, and that they, too, if they did God's will, might learn, and
might understand, the same high lessons. In all ages there is a ten
dency to mistake erudition for learning, knowledge for wisdom ; in
all ages there has been a slowness to comprehend that true learning
of the deepest and noblest character may co-exist with complete and
utter ignorance of everything which absorbs and constitutes the
learning of the schools. In one sense — Jesus told His hearers —
they knew the law which Moses had given them ; in another they
were pitiably ignorant of it. They could not understand its princi-

400 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
pies, because they were not " faithful to its precepts." ' And then
He asked them openly, " Why go ye about to kill me ? "
That determination to loll Him was known indeed to Him, and
known to some of those who heard Him, but was a guilty secret
.which had been concealed from the majority of the multitude.
These answered the question, while the others kept their guilty
silence. " Thou hast a devil," the people answered ; " " who goeth
about to kill Thee ? " Why did they speak with such superfluous
and brutal bluntness ? Do not we repudiate, with far less flaming
mdignation, a charge which we know to be not only false, but wholly
preposterous and foundationless ? Was there not in the minds even
of this not yet wholly alienated multitude an uneasy sense of their
distance from the Speaker — of that unutterable superiority to them
selves which pained and shamed and irritated them ? Were they not
conscious, in their carnal and vulgar aspirations, that this Prophet
came, not to condescend to such views as theirs, but to raise them to
a region where they felt that they could not breathe ? Was there
not even then in their hearts something of the half -unconscious hatred
of vice to virtue, the repulsion of darkness against light ? Would
they have said, " Thou hast a devil," when they heard Him say that
some of them were plotting against His life, if they had not felt that
they were themselves capable at almost any moment of joining in
— aye, with their own hands of executing — so base a plot ?
Jesus did not notice their coarse insolence. He referred them to
that one work of healing on the Sabbath day,3 at which they were all
still marvelling, with an empty wonder, that He who had the power
to perform such a deed should, in performing it, have risen above
their empty, ceremonial, fetish- worshipping notions of Sabbath sanc
tity. And Jesus, who ever loved to teach the lesson that love and
not literalism is the fulfilling of the Law, showed them, even on their
own purely ritual and Levitical principle, that His word of healing
had in no respect violated' the Sabbath at all. For instance, Moses
had established, or rather re-established, the ordinance of circumcis
ion on the eighth day, and if that eighth day happened to be a Sab
bath, they without scruple sacrificed the one ordinance to the other,
and in spite of the labor which it involved, performed the rite of
circumcision on the Sabbath day. If the law of circumcision super
seded that of the Sabbath, did not the law of Mercy ? If it was
1 Cf. Ecclus. xxi. 11, " He that keepeth the law of the Lord getteth the understand
ing thereof." (John xiv. 15—17, 20, 21 ; see too Job xxviii. 28.)
2 John vii. 20, 6 oxXoi, not oi 'IovSaioi.
3 John v. 5.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 401
right by a series of actions to inflict that wound, was it wrong by a
single word to effect a total cure ? ' If that, which was at the best
but a sign of deliverance, could not even on account of the Sabbath
be postponed for a single day, why was it criminal not to have post
poned for the sake of the Sabbath a deliverance actual and entire ?
And then He summed His self-defence in the one calm word, " Do
not be ever judging by the mere appearance, but judge a righteous
judgment ; " " instead of. being permanently content with a superfi
cial mode of criticism, come once for all to some principle of right
eous decision.
His hearers were perplexed and amazed, " Is this He against
whose life some are plotting ? Can He be the Messiah ? Nay, He
cannot be ; for we know whence this speaker comes, whereas they
say that none shall know whence the Messiah shall have come when
he appears."
There was a certain irony in the answer of Jesus. They knew
whence He came and all about Him, and yet, in very truth, He
came not of Himself, but from one of whom they knew nothing.
This word maddened still more some of His hearers. They longed
but did not dare to seize Him, and all the more because there were
some whom these words convinced, and who appealed to His many
miracles as irresistible proof of His sacred claims.3 The Sanhedrin,
seated in frequent session in their stone hall of meeting within the
immediate precincts of the Temple, were, by means of their emis
saries, kept informed of all that He did and said, and, without seem
ing to do so, watched His every movement with malignant and
jealous eyes. These whispered arguments in His favor, this deep
ened awe of Him and belief in Him, which, despite then authority,
was growing up under their very eyes, seemed to them at once
humiliating and dangerous. They determined on a bolder course
of action. They sent out emissaries to seize Him suddenly and
stealthily, at the first opportunity which should occur. But Jesus
1 Stier quotes-"Trom the Rabbis a remark to this very effect, " Circumcision,
which is one of the 248 members of the body, supersedes the Sabbath ; how much
more the whole body of a man ? "
2 John vii. 24, ut) xoivsre . . . dXXd . . . xpivars.
3 It is a remarkable fact that the Jews have never attempted to deny the reality
of the miracles which Jesus wrought. All that the Tolddth Jeshu, and similar
books, can say is that He performed them by means of the Shemhammephorash,
the " Tetragrammaton," or sacred name. For the preposterous legend by which
they account for " that man " (as in their hatred they always call Him) having
learnt the pronunciation of the name, see the translation of the Tolddth by Huldric
(1705), or Wagenseil, Tela Ignea Satanae, 1681.
51

402 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
showed no fear. He was to be with them a little longer, and then,
and not till then, should He return to Him that sent Him.1 Then,
indeed, they would seek Him — seek Him, not as now with hostile
intentions, but in all the crushing agony of remorse and shame ; but
their search would be in vain. His enemies wholly failed to under
stand the allusion. In the troubled and terrible days which were to
come they would understand it only too bitterly and well. Now they
could only jeeringly conjecture that possibly He had some wild
intention of going to teach among the Gentiles."
So passed this memorable day ; and again, on the last day of the
feast,3 Jesus was standing in the Temple. On each day of the
seven, and, possibly, even on the eighth, there was a significant and
joyous ceremony. At early morning the people repaired to the
Temple, and when the morning sacrifice had been laid on the altar,
one of the priests went down with a golden ewer to the Pool of
Siloam, not far from the foot of Mount Sion. There, with great
solemnity, he drew three logs of water, which were then carried in
triumphant procession through the water-gate into the Temple. As
he entered the Temple courts the sacred trumpets breathed out a
joyous blast, which continued till he reached the top of the altar
slope, and there poured the water into a silver basin on the western
side, while wine was poured into another silver basin on the eastern

1 Cf. John viii. 21.
2 Siadnopd tgov 'EXXrfvaov (John vii. 35) means here, in all probability,
" Gentile countries among which Jews are dispersed." And such a notion would
seem to those bigoted Jews only too ridiculous. A modern Rabbi at Jerusalem
did not kuow in what quarter of the globe he was living, had never heard the
name Europe, and called all other parts of the world, except Palestine, Chutselorets
(pxl? nXin), i. e., " outside the Holy Land 1 " (Frankl, Jews in the East, ii. 34, E.
Tr.) 3 The feast lasted seven days, but it is uncertain whether by " the last day, that
great day of the feast," the seventh day is intended, which was the proper con
clusion of the feast, or the eighth, on which the booths were taken down, but on
which there were special offerings and a holy convocation (Numb. xxix. 36 — 38).
It is said that the seventh, not being distinguished from the other days, cannot
be called " the great day ; " but on the other hand, the last day of a feast is always
likely to be conspicuous for the zest of its ceremonies, and there seems to be at
least some indication that such was actually the case (Buxtorf, Syn. Jud. xxi. ;
see " Feast of Tabernacles " in Smith's Diet, of the Bible). One Rabbi (R. Juda
Hakk6desh), in the tract Succah, which is our chief authority on this subject, says
that the water was poured out on the eighth as well as on the previous days
(Succah, iv. 9), but the others deny this (Surenhusius, Mischna, ii. 276). The
eighth day of the Passover, and of Tabernacles, is in Deut. xvi. 8 ; Lev. xxiii. 34,
called atsereth (E. V. " solemn assembly," marg. " day of restraint " ).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 403
side. Then the great Hallel was sung,1 and when they came to the
verse " Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good : for His mercy
endureth for ever," each of the gaily-clad worshippers as he stood
beside the altars, shook his lulab in triumph. In the evening they
abandoned themselves to such rejoicing, that the Rabbis say that the
man who has not seen this "joy of the drawing water" does not
know what joy means."
In evident allusion to this glad custom — perhaps in sympathy
with that sense of something missing which succeeded the disuse of
it on the eighth day of the feast — Jesus pointed the yearnings of
the festal crowd in the Temple, as He had done those of the
Samaritan woman by the lonely well, to a new truth, and to one
which more than fulfilled alike the spiritual (Isa. xii. 3) and the
historical meaning (1 Cor. x. 4) of the scenes which they had wit
nessed. He " stood and cried, H any man thirst, let him come unto
me and drink. He that befieveth on me, as the Scripture hath said,
out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." 3 And the best of
them felt in their inmost soul — and this is the strongest of all the
evidences of Christianity for those who believe heart and soul in a
God of love who cares for His children in the family of man — that
they had deep need of a comfort and salvation, of the outpouring of
a Holy Spirit, which He who spake to them could alone bestow.
But the very fact that some were beginning openly to speak of Him
1 Ps. cxiii. — cxviii. Jahn, Archaeol. Bibl. § 355. Even Plutarch (Sympos. iv. 5)
alludes to the xparr/poq>opia.
2 Succah, v. 2. The feast was called Shimcath beth hashoabah. The day was
called the Hosannah Rabbah, or " Great Hosannah," because on the seventh day
the Hallel was seven times sung. The origin of the ceremony is quite obscure,
but it is at least possible that the extra joy of it — the processions, illuminations,
dances — commemorated the joy of the Pharisees in having got the better of
Alexander Jannseus, who, instead of pouring the water on the altar, disdainfully
poured it on the ground. The Pharisees in their fury hurled at his head the
citron-fruits which they were carrying in their hands (Lev. xxiii. 40), and on his
calling his mercenaries to his aid, a massacre of nearly six thousand ensued
(Derenbourg, Hist. Pal. 98; Jos. Antt. xiii. 13, § 5, xirpioii avrov i'fiaXXor).
This unauthorized use of the fruits as convenient missiles seems not to have been
rare (Succah, iv. 9).
3 Cf. Isa. xliii. 20 ; lviii. 11 ; lv. 1 ; xii. 3 ; and John iv. 14 ; vi. 35 ; Rev. xxii. 17.
These are the nearest passages to " as the Scripture hath said," which must there
fore be interpreted as a general allusion. St. Chrysostom asks, xai itov eiiiev
r) ypacpr) on itorapoi, x. r. X. ; ovSapov.™ No metaphor, however, could
be more intense than that offered by the longing for water in a dry and thirsty
land. To see the eagerness with which men and beasts alike rush to the foun
tain-side after journeys in Palestine is a striking sight. The Arabs begin to sing
and shout, constantly repeating the words " Snow in the sun ! snow in the sun ! "

404 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
as the Prophet and the Christ, only exasperated the others. They
had a small difficulty of their own creating, founded on pure igno
rance of fact, but which yet to their own narrow dogmatic fancy was
irresistible — " Shall Christ come out of Galilee ? must He not come
from Bethlehem ? of David's seed ? " '
It was during this division of opinion that the officers whom the
Pharisees had dispatched to seize Jesus, returned to them without
having even attempted to carry out their design. As they hovered
among the Temple courts, as they stood half sheltered behind the
Temple pillars, not unobserved, it may be, by Him for whom they
were lying in wait, they too could not fail to hear some of the divine
words which flowed- out of His mouth. And, hearing them, they
could not fulfil their mission. A sacred spell was upon them, which
they were unable to resist ; a force infinitely more powerful than
their own, unnerved their strength and paralyzed their will. To
listen to him was not only to be disarmed in every attempt against
Him, it was even to be half-converted from bitter enemies to awe
struck disciples. " Never man spake like this man," was all that they
could say. That bold disobedience to positive orders must have made
them afraid of the possible consequences to themselves, but obedience
would have required a courage even greater, to say nothing of that
rankling wound wherewith an awakened conscience ever pierces the
breast of crime.
The Pharisees could only meet them with angry taunts. " What,
ye too intend to accept this Prophet of the ignorant, this favorite of
the accursed and miserable mob ! " " Then Nicodemus ventured on a
timid word, " Ought you not to try before you condemn Him ? "
They had no reply to the justice of that principle : they could only
fall back again on taunts — "Are you then a Galilsean ? " and then
the old ignorant dogmatism, " Search, and look : for out of Galilee
ariseth no prophet."
Where then, as we have asked already, was Gathhepher, whence
Jonah came? where Thisbe, whence Elijah came? where Elkosh,
whence Nahum came ? where the northern town, whence Hosea
came ? The more recent Jews, with better knowledge of Scripture,
declare that the Messiah is to come from Galilee ; " and they settle at
Tiberias, because they believe that He will rise from the waters of

1 Micah v. 2 ; Isa. xi. 1 ; Jer. xxiii. 5, &c.
2 The ecclesiastical contempt of the Pharisees surpassed, in its habitual spirit
of scorn, the worst insolence of Paganism against " the many."
3 See Isa. ix. 1, 2, and this is asserted in the Zoha/r. See supra, pp. 75, 76.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 405
the Lake ; and at Safed, " the city set on a hill," because they believe
that He will there first fix His throne.1 But there is no ignorance so
deep as the ignorance that will not know ; no blindness so incurable
as the blindness which will not see. And the dogmatism of a narrow
and stolid prejudice which believes itself to be theological learning is,
of all others, the most ignorant and the most blind. Such was the
spirit in which, ignoring the mild justice of Nicodemus, and the mar
vellous impression made by Jesus even on their own hostile appari
tors, the majority of the Sanhedrin broke up, and went each to bis
own home.

1 So I was assured on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.

406 THE LIFE OF CHRIST

CHAPTER XL.
THE WOMAN TAKEN IN ADULTERY.
" Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all." — Shakespeare.
In the difficulties which beset the celebrated incident which fol
lows, it is impossible for us to arrive at any certainty as to its true
position in the narrative.1 As there must, however, be some a priori
probability that its place was assigned with due reference to the order
of events, and as there appear to be some obvious though indirect
references to it in the discourses which immediately follow," I shall
proceed to speak of it here, feeling no shadow of a doubt that the
incident really happened, even if the form in which it is preserved
to us is by no means indisputably genuine."
1 John viii. 1 — 11. In some MSS. it is placed at the end of St. John's Gospel ; in
some, after Luke xxi., mainly, no doubt, because it fits on well to the verses 37,
38 in that chapter. Hitzig (JJeber Joh. Marc. 205) conjectured, very plausibly,
that the fact which it records really belongs to Mark xii., falling in naturally
between the conspiracy of the Pharisees and Herodians, and that of the Saddu
cees to tempt Christ — i. e., between the 17th and 18th verses. In that case its
order of sequence would be on the Tuesday in Passion week. On the other hand,
if it has no connection with the Feast of Tabernacles, and no tinge of Johannean
authorship, why should so many MSS. (including even such important ones as
D, F, G) place it here 1 ,
2 Ex. gr., John viii. 15, 17, 24, 46.
3 The whole mass of critical evidence may be seen fully treated in Lucke's
Commentary (third edition), ii. 243 — 256. We may briefly summarize the grounds
of its dubious genuineness by observing that (1) it is not found in some of the
best and oldest MSS. (e. g., X, A, B, C, L); (2) nor in most of the Fathers (e. g.,
Origen, Cyril, Chrysostom, Theophylact, Tertullian, Cyprian) ; (3) nor in many
ancient versions (e. g., Sahidic, Coptic, and Gothic) ; (4) in other MSS. it is marked
with obeli and asterisks, or a space is left for it, or it is inserted elsewhere ; (5) it
contains an extraordinary number of various readings (" variant singula fere verba
in codicibus plerisque " 293 — Tischendorf) ; (6) it contains several expressions not
elsewhere found in St. John ; and (7) it differs widely in some respects — particu
larly in the constant use of the connecting Si — from the style of St. John through
out the rest of the Gospel. Several of these arguments are weakened — (i.) by ¦
the fact that the diversities of readings may be reduced to three main recensions •
(ii.) that the rejection of the passage may have been due to a false dogmatical
bias ; (iii.) that the silence of some of the Fathers may be accidental, and of others
prudential. The arguments in its favor are — 1. It is found in some old and

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 407
At the close of the day recorded in the last chapter, Jesus with
drew to the Mount of Olives. Whether He went to the garden of
Gethsemane, and to the house of its unknown but friendly owner, or
whether — not having where to lay His head — He simply slept,
Eastern fashion, on the green turf under those ancient olive-trees, we
cannot tell ; but it is interesting to trace in Him once more that dislike
of crowded cities, that love for the pure, sweet, fresh air, and for the
quiet of the lonely hill, which we see in all parts of His career on
earth. There was, indeed, in Him nothing of that supercilious sen
timentality and morbid egotism which makes men shrink from all
contact with their brother-men; nor can they who would be His
true servants belong to those merely fantastic philanthropists
" Who sigh for wretchedness, yet shun the wretched,
Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their dainty loves and slothful sympathies." Coleridge, Religious Musings.
On the contrary, day after day, while His day-time of work continued,
we find Him sacrificing all that was dearest and most elevating to His
soul, and in spite of heat, and pressure, and conflict, and weariness,
calmly pursuing His labors of love amid "'the madding crowd's
ignoble strife." But in the night-time, when men cannot work, no
call of duty required His presence within the walls of Jerusalem ;
and those who are familiar with the oppressive foulness of ancient
important uncials (D, F, G, H, K, U) and in more than 300 cursive MSS., in some
of the Itala, and in the Vulgate. 2. The tendencies which led to its deliberate
rejection would have rendered all but impossible its invention or interpolation.
3. It is quoted by Augustine, Ambrose, and Jerome, and treated as genuine in the
Apostolic constitutions. St. Jerome's testimony (Adv. Pelag. ii. 6) is particularly
important, because he says that in his time it was found " in multis et Graecis et
Latinis codicibus " 294 — and it must be remembered that nearly all of these must
have been considerably older than any which we now possess. The main facts
to be observed are, that though the dogmatic bias against the passage might be
sufficient to account for its rejection, it gives us no help in explaining its want of
resemblance to the style of St. John. A very simple hypothesis will account for
aU difficulties. If we suppose that the story of the woman accused before our
Lord of many sins — to which Eusebius alludes (H. E. iii. 39) as existing in the
Gospel of the Hebrews — is identical with this, we may suppose, without any
improbability, either (i.) that St. John (as Alford hesitatingly suggests) may here
have adopted a portion of current synoptic tradition, or (ii.) that the story may
have been derived originally from Papias, the pupil of St. John, and having
found its way into the Gospel of the Hebrews, may have been adopted gradually
into some MSS. of St. John's Gospel (see Euseb. ubi supr). Many recent writers
adopt the suggestion of Holtzmann, that it belongs to the " Ur-marcus," or ground
document of the Synoptists. Whoever embodied into the Gospels this tradition
ally-remembered story deserved well of the world.

408 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
cities can best imagine the relief which His spirit must have felt
when he could escape from the close streets and thronged bazaars, to
cross the ravine, and climb the green slope beyond it, and be alone
with His Heavenly Father under the starry night.
But when the day dawned His duties lay once more within the
city walls, and in that part of the city where, almost alone, we hear
of His presence — in the courts of His Father's house. And with
the very dawn His enemies contrived a fresh plot against Him, the
circumstances of which made their malice even more actually painful
than it was intentionally perilous.
It is probable that the hilarity and abandonment of the Feast of
Tabernacles, which had grown to be a kind of vintage festival, would
often degenerate into acts of license and immorality, and these would
find more numerous opportunities in the general disturbance of ordi
nary life caused by the dwelling of the whole people in their little
leafy booths. One such act had been detected during the previous
night, and the guilty woman had been handed over to the Scribes ¦
and Pharisees.
Even had the morals of the nation at that time been as clean as in
the days when Moses ordained the fearful ordeal of the " water of
jealousy " " — even had these rulers and teachers of the nation been
elevated as far above their contemporaries in the real, as in the pro
fessed, sanctity of their lives — the discovery, and the threatened
punishment, of this -miserable adulteress could hardly have failed to
move every pure and noble mind to a compassion which would have
mingled largely with the horror which her sin inspired. They might,
indeed, even on those suppositions, have inflicted the established pen
alty with a sternness as inflexible as that of the Pilgrim Fathers in
early days of Salem or Providence ; but the sternness of a severe and
pure-hearted judge is. not a sternness which precludes all pity ; it is a
sternness which would not willingly inflict one unnecessary pang —
it is a sternness not incompatible with a righteous tenderness, but
wholly incompatible with a mixture of meaner and slighter motives,
wholly incompatible with a spirit of malignant levity and hideous
sport. But the spirit which actuated these Scribes and Pharisees was not
by any means the spirit of a sincere and outraged purity. In the
1 It is observable that in no other passage of St. John's Gospel (though frequently
in the Synoptists) are the Scribes mentioned among the enemies of Christ ; but
here a few MSS. read oi dpxiepsii, " the chief priests."
2 See Numb. v. 14—29.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 409
decadence of national life, in the daily familiarity with heathen deg
radations, in the gradual substitution of a Levitical scrupulosity for
a heartfelt religion, the morals of the nation had grown utterly cor
rupt. The ordeal of the "water of jealousy " had long been abol
ished, and the death, by stoning as a punishment for adultery had
long been suffered to fall into desuetude. Not even the Scribes and
Pharisees — for all their external religiosity — had any genuine horror
of an impurity with which their own lives were often stained.1 They
saw in the accident which had put this guilty woman into their power
nothing but a chance of annoying, entrapping, possibly even endan
gering this Prophet of Galilee, whom they already regarded as their
deadliest enemy.
It was a curious custom among the Jews to consult distinguished
Rabbis in cases of doubt and difficulty ; " but there was no doubt or
difficulty here. It was long since the Mosaic law of death to the
adulteress had been demanded or enforced ; and even if this had not
been the case, the Roman law would, in all probability, have pre
vented such a sentence from being put in execution. On the other
hand, the civil and religious penalties of divorce were open to the
injured husband ; nor did the case of this woman differ from that of
any other who had similarly transgressed. Nor, again, even if they
had honestly and sincerely desired the opinion of Jesus, could there
have, been the slightest excuse for haling the woman herself into His
presence, and thus subjecting her to a moral torture which would be
rendered all the more insupportable from the close seclusion of
women in the East.
And, therefore, to subject her to the superfluous horror of this odious
publicity — to drag her, fresh from the agony of detection, into the
sacred precincts of the Temple s — to subject this unveiled, dishevelled,
terror-stricken woman to the cold and sensual curiosity of a malignant
mob — to make her, with total disregard to her own sufferings, the
mere passive instrument of their hatred against Jesus ; and to do all
this — not under the pressure of moral indignation, but in order to
1 As is distinctly proved by the admissions of the Talmud, and by the express
testimony of Josephus. In the tract Sotah it is clear that the Mosaic ordeal of
the " water of jealousy " had fallen into practical desuetude from the commonness
of the crime. We are there told that R. Johanan Ben Zakkai abolished the use
of it (see Surenhusius, Mischna, ii. 290, 293).
2 Sepp, Leben Jesu, iv. 2, 17.
3 It is indeed said in the Talmud (Sotah, 1, 5) that adulteresses were to be judged
at the gate of Nikanor, between the Court of the Gentiles and that of the women
(Surenhusius, Mischna, iii. 189) ; but this does not apply to the mere loose asking
of an opinion, such as this was.
52

410 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
gratify a calculating malice — showed on their parts a cold, hard cyn
icism, a graceless, pitiless, barbarous brutality of heart and conscience,
which could not but prove, in every particular, revolting and hateful
to One who alone was infinitely tender, because He alone was infi
nitely pure.
And so they dragged her to Him, and set her in the midst —
flagrant guilt subjected to the gaze of stainless Innocence, degraded
misery set before the bar of perfect Mercy. And then, just as though
their hearts were not full of outrage, they glibly begin, with ironical
deference, to set before Him their case. " Master, this woman was
seized in the very act of adultery. Now, Moses in the Law com
manded us to stone l such; but what say est Thou about her ? "
They thought that now they had caught Him in a dilemma. They
knew the divine trembling pity which had loved where others hated,
and praised where others scorned, and encouraged where others
crushed ; and they knew how that pity had won for Him the admi
ration of many, the passionate devotion of not a few. They knew
that a publican was among His chosen, that sinners had sat with Him
at the banquet, and harlots unreproved had bathed His feet, and
listened to His words. Would He then acquit this woman, and so
make Himself liable to an accusation of heresy, by placing Himself
in open disaccord with the sacred and fiery Law ? or, on the other
hand, would He belie His own compassion, and be ruthless, and con
demn ? And, if He did, would He not at once shock the multitude,
who were touched by His tenderness, and offend the civil magistrates
by making Himself liable to a charge of sedition ? How could He
possibly get out of the difficulty? Either alternative — heresy or
treason, accusation before the Sanhedrin or delation to the Procu
rator, opposition to the orthodox 6r alienation from the many — would
serve equally well their unscrupulous intentions. And one of these,
they thought, must follow. What a happy chance this weak, guilty
woman had given them !
Not yet. A sense of all their baseness, their hardness, their mal
ice, their cynical parade of every feeling which pity would temper
1 The rdi roiavrai is contemptuous ; but where was the partner of her crime 1
The Law commanded that he too should be put to death (Lev. xx. 10). As to
stoning being the proper punishment of adultery, a needless difficulty seems to
have been raised (see Deut. xxii. 22 — 24). There is no ground whatever for con
cluding with Lightfoot (Hor. Hebr. ad loc.) that she was merely betrothed! (See
Ewald, Gesch. Christus, 480 ; Alterthumsk, 254 — 268; Hitzig, Joh. Marc. 209.) The
Rabbis Bay that " death," where no form of it is specified, is meant to be strangu
lation ; but this is not the case (compare Exod. xxxi. 14 with Numb. xv. 32 — 85).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 41 1
and delicacy repress^ rushed over the mind of Jesus. He blushed
for His nation, for His race ; He blushed, not for the degradation of
the miserable accused, but for the deeper guilt of her unblushing
accusers.1 Glowing with uncontrollable disgust that modes of oppo
sition so irredeemable in their meanness should be put in play against
Him, and that He should be made the involuntary centre of such a
shameful scene — indignant (for it cannot be irreverent to imagine in
Him an intensified degree of emotions which even the humblest of
His true followers would have shared) that the sacredness of His per
sonal reserve should thus be shamelessly violated, and that those
things which belong to the sphere of a noble reticence should be thus
cynically obtruded on His notice — He bent His face forwards from
His seat, and as though He did not, or would not, hear them, stooped
and wrote with His finger on the ground.
For any others but such as these it would have been enough.
Even if they failed to see in the action a symbol of forgiveness — a
symbol that the memory of things thus written in the dust might be
obliterated and forgotten" — still any but these could hardly have
failed to interpret the gesture into a distinct indication that in such
a matter Jesus would not mix Himself.3 But they, saw nothing and
understood nothing, and stood there unabashed, still pressing their
brutal question, still holding, pointing to, jeering at the woman, with
no compunction in their cunning glances, and no relenting in their
steeled hearts.
The scene could not last any longer ; and, therefore, raising Him
self from His stooping attitude, He, who could read their hearts,
calmly passed upon them' that sad judgment involved in the memo
rable words —
" Let him that is without sin 4 among you, first cast the stone at
her." b
It was not any abrogation of the Mosaic law ; it was, on the con
trary, an admission of its justice, and doubtless it must have sunk
heavily as a death-warrant upon the woman's heart. But it acted in
a manner wholly unexpected. The terrible law stood written; it
 1  .
1 In the Rabbinical treatise Berachdth, R. Papa and others are reported to have
said that it is better for a man to throw himself into a furnace than to make any
one blush in public, which they deduced from Gen. xxxviii. 25. (Schwab, Bera-
ihdth, p. 404.)
2 Comp. Jer. xvii. 13.
3 It seems to have been well understood. See Wetstein ad loc.
4 i. e., free from the taint of this class of sins. Cf. Luke vii. 37.
s itpGoroi rov XiBov (E, G. H, K, &c). Cf. Deut. xvii. 7. (Surenhusius
Mischna, iv. 235.)

412 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
was not the time, it was not His will, to rescind it. But, on the
other hand, they themselves, by not acting on the law, by referring
the whole question to Him as though it needed a new solution, had
practically confessed that the law was at present valid in theory
alone, that it had fallen into desuetude, and that even with His
authority they had no intention of carrying it into action. Since,
therefore, the whole proceeding was on their part illegal and irregu
lar, He transfers it by these words from the forum of law to that of
conscience. The judge may sometimes be obliged to condemn the
criminal brought before him for sins of which he has himself been
guilty, but the position of the self-constituted accuser who eagerly
demands a needless condemnation is very different. Herein to con
demn her would have been in God's sight most fatally to have
condemned themselves ; to have been the first to cast the stone at
her would have been to crush themselves.
He had but glanced at them for a moment, but that glance had
read their inmost souls. He had but calmly spoken a few simple
words, but those words, like the still small voice to Elijah at Horeb,
had been more terrible than wind or earthquake. They had fallen
like a spark of fire upon slumbering souls, and lay burning there till
"the blushing, shame-faced spirit" mutinied within them. The
Scribes and Pharisees stood silent and fearful ; they loosed their hold
upon the woman ; their insolent glances, so full of guile and malice,
fell guiltily to the ground. They who had unjustly inflicted, now
justly felt the overwhelming anguish of an intolerable shame, while
over their guilty consciences there rolled,, in crash on crash of
thunder, such thoughts as these : — " Therefore thou art inexcusable,
0 man, whosoever thou art that judgest : for wherein thou judgest
another, thou condemnest thyself : for thou that judgest doest the
same things. But we are sure that the judgment of God is according
to truth against them which commit such things. And thinkest thou
this, 0 man, that judgest them which do such things and doest the
same, that thou shalt escape the judgment of God ? or despisest thou
the riches of His goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering ; not
knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance ? but
after thy hardness and impenitent heart treasurest up to thyself wrath
against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of
God, who will render to every man according to his deeds." They
were "such" as the woman they had condemned, and they dared not
stay. And so, with burning cheeks and cowed hearts, from the eldest to
the youngest, one by one gradually, silently they slunk away. He

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 413
would not add to their shame and confusion of face by watching
them : He had no wish further to reveal His knowledge of the
impure secrets of their hearts ; He would not tempt them to brazen
it out before Him, and to fie against the testimony of their own
memories ; He had stooped down once more, and was writing on the
ground.1 And when He once more raised His head, all the accusers had
melted away: only the woman still cowered before Him on the
Temple-floor. She, too, might have gone : none hindered her, and
it might have seemed but natural that she should fly anywhere to
escape her danger, and to hide her guilt and shame. But remorse,
and, it may be, an awful trembling gratitude, in which hope strug
gled with despair, fixed her there before her Judge. His look, the
most terrible of all to meet, because it was the only look that fell on
her from a soul robed in the unapproachable majesty of a stainless
innocence, was at the same time the most gentle, and the most for
giving. Her stay was a sign of her penitence ; her penitence, let us
trust, a certain pledge of her future forgiveness. " Two things," as
St. Augustine finely says, "were here left alone together — Misery
and Mercy."
" Woman," He asked, " where are those thine accusers ? did no one
convict thee ? "
" No man, Lord." It was the only answer which her lips could
find power to frame ; and then she received the gracious yet heart-
searching permission to depart —
" Neither do I convict thee. Go ; henceforth sin no more." "
Were the critical evidence against the genuineness of this passage
far more overwhelming than it is, it would yet bear upon its surface
the strongest possible proof of its own authentic truthfulness. It is
hardly too much to say that the mixture which it displays of tragedy
and of tenderness — the contrast which it involves between low, cruel
cunning, and exalted nobility of intellect and emotion — transcends
all power of human imagination to have invented it ; while the pic-
1 The MS. U (the Cod. Manianus in St. Mark's at Venice) has here the curious
reading i'ypaibEV eti rr)v yijv evds ixddrov avraov rdi dpapriai — "He
wrote on the ground the sins of each one of them ; " which shows how early
began the impossible and irrelevant surmises as to what He wrote. This is the
only passage where Christ is said to have written anything.
2 "Convict "is perhaps better than " condemn " (which means " convict and
sentence") here. Perhaps r) yvvfj, the less direct address, is better than yvvai.
After pr/xs'ri I read dito rov vvv with D, omitting xai. But every variation of
reading is uncertain in this paragraph.

414 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ture of a divine insight reading the inmost secrets of the heart, and a
yet diviner love, which sees those inmost secrets with larger eyes than
ours, furnish us with a conception of Christ's power and person at once
too lofty and too original to have been founded on anything but fact.
No one could have invented, for few could even appreciate, the sov
ereign purity and ineffable charm — the serene authority of condem
nation, and of pardon — by which the story is so deeply characterized.
The repeated instances in which, without a moment's hesitation, He
foiled the crafty designs of His enemies, and in foiling them taught
for ever some eternal principle of thought and action, are among the
most unique and decisive proofs of His more than human wisdom ;
and yet not one of those gleams of sacred light which were struck
from Him by collision with the malice or hate of man was brighter
or more beautiful than this. The very fact that the narrative found
so little favor in the early centuries of Church history ' — the fact
that whole Churches regarded the narrative as dangerous in its ten
dency " — the fact that eminent Fathers of the Church either ignore
it, or speak of it in a semi-apologetic tone — in these facts we see the
most decisive proof that its real moral and meaning are too trans
cendent to admit of its having been originally invented, or interpo
lated without adequate authority into the sacred text. Yet it is
strange that any should have failed to see that in the ray of mercy
which thus streamed from heaven upon the wretched sinner, the sin
assumed an aspect tenfold more heinous, tenfold more repulsive to
the conscience of mankind — to every conscience which accepts it as
a law of life that it should strive to be holy as God is holy, and pure
as He is pure.
However painful this scene must have been to the holy and loving
heart of the Saviour, it was at least alleviated by the sense of that
compassionate deliverance — deliverance, we may trust, for Eternity,
no less than Time — which it had wrought for one guilty soul. But
the scenes that followed were a climax of perpetual misunderstand
ings, fluctuating impressions, and bitter taunts, which caused the
great and joyous festival to end with a sudden burst of rage, and an
*¦ ' St. Augustine (De Conjug. Adult, ii. 6) says that some people of weak faith
removed the paragraph from their MSS., " quasi permissionem peccandi tribuerit
Qui dixit Deiuceps noli peccare." 225 — St. Ambrose too says that " non mediocrem
scrupulum movere potuit imperitis." 298 (Apol. David, ii. 1.)
2 The Patriarch Nikon (in the tenth century) distinctly says that the passage
had been expunged from the Armenian Version because it was thought pernicious
for the majority (jiXajispdv roii itoXXoii). Bishop Wordsworth thinks that
the extreme Beverity of the Eastern Church against adultery facilitated the rejec
tion of the passage by them.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 415
attempt of the Jewish leaders to make an end of Him — not by public
accusation, but by furious violence.
For, on the same day — the eighth day of the feast if the last nar
rative has got displaced, the day after the feast if it belongs to the
true sequence of events — Jesus continued those interrupted dis
courses which were intended almost for the last time to set clearly
before the Jewish nation His divine claims.
He was seated at that moment in the Treasury — either some
special building 1 in the Temple so called, or that part of the court
of the women which contained the thirteen chests with trumpet-
shaped openings — called shopherdth — into which the people, and
especially the Pharisees, used to cast their gifts. In this court, and
therefore close beside Him, were two gigantic candelabra, fifty cubits
high and sumptuously gilded," on the summit of which, nightly, dur
ing the Feast of Tabernacles, lamps were lit which shed their soft
light over all the city. Round these lamps the people, in their joy
ful enthusiasm, and even the stateliest Priests and Pharisees, joined
in festal dances, while, to the sound of flutes and other music, the
Levites drawn up in array on the fifteen steps which led up to the
court, chanted the beautiful Psalms which early received the title of
" Songs of Degrees." 3
In allusion to these great lamps, on which some circumstance of
the moment may have concentrated the attention of the hearers,
Christ exclaimed to them, " I am the Light of the world." It was
His constant plan to shape the illustrations of His discourses by those
external incidents which would rouse the deepest attention, and fix
the words most indelibly on the memories of His hearers. The
Pharisees who heard His words charged Him with idle self-glorifica
tion ; but He showed them that He had His Father's testimony, and
that even were it not so, the Light can only be seen, only be known,
by the evidence of its own existence ; without it, neither itself nor
anything else is visible.4 They asked Him, " Where is Thy Father? "
He told them that, not knowing Him, they could not know His
Father ; and then He once more sadly warned them that His depart
ure was nigh, and that then they would be unable to come to Him.
1 Jos. Antt. xix. 6, § 1. Compare Luke xxi. 1 ; Mark xii. 41.
2 Pictures of these colossal lamps are given in Surenhusius's Mischna, ii. 260,
The wicks of the four lamps which stood on each candelabrum were made of the
cast-off clothes of the priests.
3 Ps. cxx. — cxxxiv.
4 " Testimonium sibi perhibet lux : . . . sibi ipsa testis est, ut cognoscatur
lux."291 (Aug.)

416 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Their only reply was a taunting inquiry whether, by committing sui
cide, He meant to plunge Himself in the darkest regions of the grave ? '
Nay, He made them understand, it was they, not lie, who were from
below — they, not He, who were destined, if they persisted in unbe
lief of His eternal existence, to that dark end. "Who art thou?"
they once more asked, in angry and faithless perplexity. "Altogether
that which I am telling you," " He calmly answered. They wanted
Him to announce Himself as the Messiah, and so become their tem
poral deliverer; but He will only tell them the far deeper, more
eternal truths, that He is the Light, and the Life, and the Living
Water, and that He came from the Father — as they, too, should
know when they had lifted Him up upon the cross. They were
looking solely for the Messiah of the Jews : He would have them
know Him as the Redeemer of the world, the Saviour of their souls.
As they heard Him speak, many, even of these fierce enemies, were
won over to a belief in Him : but it was a "wavering belief, a half
belief, a false belief, a belief mingled with a thousand worldly and
erroneous fancies, not a belief which had in it any saving power, or
on which He could rely. And He put it to an immediate test, which
revealed its hollo wness, and changed it into mad hatred. He told
them that faithfulness and obedience were the marks of true disciple-
ship, and the requisites of true freedom. The word freedom acted as
a touchstone to show the spuriousness of their incipient faith. They
knew of no freedom but that political freedom which they falsely
1 See Jos. B. Jud. iii. 8. § 5, rovraov pir aiSrji Sexerai rdi tbvxdi dxori-
aor£poi.m 2 John viii. 25, rrjv dpxvv on xai XaXGs vpiv. A vast number of renderings
have been proposed for this text. Some may be rejected at once — as Lilcke's,
" To begin with, why do I even speak to you ? " and Meyer's, " Do ye ask what I
say to you at the first?" That of De Wette, Stier, Alford, &c, is "Essentially
that which I speak" — i.e.. My being is My revelation — I am, the Word. The
objection to the rendering in our English version is that it makes XaXdo, "lam
speaking," equivalent to i'Xeia, " I said ; " but, on the other hand, we never else
where find Christ using such an expression as " I am that which I speak." The
same objection applies to the interpretation of Augustine and others, " I am, what
I am saying to you, The Beginning " (Rev. xxi. 6 ; xxii. 13 ; 1 John ii. 13). Lange
seems to me to be right in rendering it " To start with (or, ' in the first place' ),
that which I represent Myself as being." Mr. Monro suggests to me the view
that the question of the Jews, Zv rii si, evidently refers to the mysterious iyao
eipi of the previous verse (ver. 24). Treating the question as virtually an inter
ruption, Jesus tells them (ver. 28) that they should not understand the iyao stpi
till a later experience ; but returning to Xdyoi and XaXao (vv. 37, 38, 40, 43)
gives a hint as to the iyao eipi in 44, 47, and a yet fuller answer in 57,58 ; yet not
so full or clear as in ix. 37. On this view viii. 25 might perhaps mean, " I will
tell you first of all what I say."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 417
asserted ; they resented the promise of future spiritual freedom in
lieu of the achievement of present national freedom. So Jesus showed
them that they were still the slaves of sin, and in name only, not in
reality, the children of Abraham, or the children of God. They
were absorbed with pride when they thought of the purity of their
ancestral origin, and the privilege of their exclusive monotheism ; '
but He told them that in very truth they were, by spiritual affinity,
the affinity of cruelty and falsehood," children of him who was a liar
and a murderer from the beginning — children of the devil.3 That
home-rebuke stung them to fury. They repaid it by calling Jesus a
Samaritan, and a demoniac.4 Our Lord gently put the taunt aside,
and once more held out to them the gracious promise that if they
will but keep His sayings, they not only shall not die in then sins,
but shall not see death. Their dull, blind hearts could not even
imagine a spiritual meaning in His words. They could only charge
Him with demoniac arrogance and insolence in making Himself
greater than Abraham and the. prophets, of whom they could only
think as dead.5 Jesus told them that in prophetic vision, perhaps too
by spiritual intuition, in that other world, Abraham, who was not
.dead, but living, saw and rejoiced to see His day. Such an assertion
appeared to them either senseless or blasphemous. " Abraham has
been dead for seventeen centuries ; Thou art not even fifty ' years
old ; how are we to understand such words as these ? " Then very
gently, but with great solemnity, and with that formula of assevera-
1 Alike the Bible and the Talmud abound in proofs of the intense national arro
gance with which the Jews regarded their religion and their descent.
2 John viii. 44. Untruthfulness seems to have been in all ages a failing of the
Jewish national character. " Listen to all, but believe no one — not even me," said
the Hebrew poet Sapir to Dr. Frankl (Jews in the East, E. Tr., ii. 11).
3 1 am aware that some make Jesus call the Jews not " children," but " brethren
of the devil," translating rov itarpoi rov SiafioXov (ver. 44), of " the father of
the devil," and rendering the end of verse 44 " he is a liar, and his father too ; '
but I do not understand this demonology.
4 John viii. 48, " Thou art a Samaritan ". (what intense national hatred breathes
in the words !), " and hast a demon." Similarly the Arabs attribute all madness
to evil spirits (S aipov ai = Medjnoun ente). (Renan, Vie de Jesus, 272.)
5 Luke xvi. 22 ; Matt. xxii. 32.
6 In some valueless MSS. this is quite needlessly corrected into " forty." It is
strange that modern writers like Gfrorer should have revived the mistaken infer
ence of Irenseus from this verse that Jesus lived fifty years on earth. The belief
that He died at the age of thirty-three may be regarded as nearly certain, and 'it
cannot even be safely conjectured from this passage either that the sorrows of
His lot had marred His visage, or that the deep seriousness of His expre'ssion
made Him appear older than He was. It is obvious that the Jews are speaking
generally, and in round numbers : " Thou hast not yet reached even the full years of
manhood, and hast Thou seen Abraham?"
53

418 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
tion which He only used when He announced His most solemn truths,
the Saviour revealed to them His eternity, His Divine pre-existence
before He had entered the tabernacle of mortal flesh :
" Yerily, verily I say unto you, Before Abraham came into exist
ence, I am." '
Then, with a burst of impetuous fury — one of those paroxysms of
sudden, uncontrollable, frantic rage to which this people hag in all
ages been liable upon any collision with its religious convictions —
they took up stones to stone Him." But the very blindness of their
rage made it more easy to elude them. His hour was not yet come.
With perfect calmness He departed unhurt out of the Temple.
1 John viii. 58, itpiv 'Ajipadp ysve'dBai, iyao Eipi. There could be no more
distinct assertion of His divine nature. I have pointed out elsewhere that those
who deny this must either prove that He never spoke those words, or must
believe that He — the most lowly and sinless and meek-hearted of men — was
guilty of a colossal and almost phrenetic intoxication of vanity and arrogance.
For the Jews, more intensely than any other nation which the world has ever
known, recognized the infinite transcendence of God, and therefore for a Jew,
being merely man, to claim Divinity, would not only be inconsistent with ordinary
sense and virtue, but inconsistent with anything but sheer blasphemous insanity.
See the Author's Hulsean Lectures, The Witness of History to Christ, p. 85.
2 The unfinished state of the Temple buildings would supply them with huge
stones close at hand.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 419

CHAPTER XLI.
THE MAN BORN BLIND.
" He from thick films shall purge the visual ray,
And on the sightless eyeball pour the day." — Pope.
Either on His way from the Temple, after this attempted assault,
or on the next ensuing Sabbath,1 Jesus, as He passed by, saw a man
blind from his birth, who, perhaps, announced his miserable condition
as he sat begging by the roadside, and at the Temple gate."
All the Jews were trained to regard special suffering as the neces
sary and immediate consequence of special sin. Perhaps the disci
ples supposed that the words of our Lord to the paralytic whom He
had healed at the Pool of Bethesda, as well as to the paralytic at
Capernaum, might seem to sanction such an impression. They asked,
therefore, how this man came to be born blind. Could it be in conse
quence of the sins of his parents ? If not, was there any way of sup
posing that it could have been for his own? The supposition in
the former case seemed hard ; in the latter, impossible.3 They were
therefore perplexed.
Into the unprofitable regions of such barren speculation our Lord
refused to follow them, and he declined, as always, the tendency to
infer and to sit in judgment upon the sins of others. Neither the
man's sins, He told them, nor those of his parents, had caused that
lifelong affliction ; but now, by means of it,4 the works of God should
1 It is impossible to decide between these alternatives. If it was on the same
Sabbath, the extreme calmness of our Lord, immediately after circumstances of
such intense excitement, would be very noticeable. In either case the narrative
implies that the ebullition of homicidal fury against Him was transient.
2 John v. 14.
5 Exod. xx. 5. We can hardly imagine that those simple-minded Galileans
were familiar with the doctrine of metempsychosis (Jos. Antt. xviii. 1, § 3 ; B. J.
ii. 8, § 14) ; or the Rabbinic dogma of ante-natal sin ; or the Platonic and Alexan
drian fancy of pre-existence ; or the modern conception of proleptic punishment
for sins anticipated by foreknowledge.
4 The Greek idiom does not here imply, as its literal English equivalent appears
to do, that the man had been born blind solely in order that God's glory might be
manifested in his healing. The iva expresses a consequence, not a purpose  it
has, technically speaking, a metabatic, not a telic force. This was pointed out long

420 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
be made manifest. He, the Light of the world, must for a short
time longer dispel its darkness. Then He spat on the ground, made
clay with the spittle, and smearing it on the blind man's eyes, bade
him " go wash in the Pool of Siloam." ' The blind man went,
washed, and was healed.
The saliva of one who had not recently broken his fast was
believed among the ancients to have a healing efficacy in cases of
weak eyes, and clay was occasionally used to repress tumors on the
eyelids." But that these instruments in no way detracted from the
splendor of the miracle is obvious; and we have no means of
deciding in this, any more than in the parallel instances, why1 our
Lord, who sometimes healed by a word, preferred at other times to
adopt slow and more elaborate methods of giving effect to His
supernatural power. In this matter He never revealed the princi
ples of action which doubtless arose from His inner knowledge of
the circumstances, and from His insight into the hearts of those on
whom His cures were wrought. Possibly He had acted with the
express view of teaching more than one eternal lesson by the inci
dents which followed.
At any rate, in this instance, His mode of action led to serious
results. For the man had been well known in Jerusalem as one who
had been a blind beggar all his life, and his appearance with the use
of his eyesight caused a tumult of excitement. Scarcely could those
who had known him best believe even his own testimony, that he
was indeed the blind beggar with whom they had been so familiar.
ago by Chrysostom and Theophylact, and Glassius in his valuable Philolog. Sacr.,
pp. 529, 530, gives many similar instances — e. g., Rom. iii. 4; v. 20 ; and comp.
John xi. 4 ; xii. 40. It would, however, carry me too far if I attempted to enter
into the subject further here.
1 " Which," adds St. John — or possibly a very ancient gloss — " means Sent."
It is found in all MSS., but not in the Persian and Syrlac versions. The remark
is rather allusive than etymological, and connects the name of the fountain with the
name of the Messiah ; but the possible grammatical accuracy of the reference
seems now to be admitted. (See Neander, Life of Christ, p. 199 ; Ebrard, Gosp.
Hist., p. 317 ; Hitzig, Isaiah, 97.) Justin Martyr (Dial. u. Tryph. 63, p. 81) refers
to the Messiah as ditodroXoi, perhaps with a view to Isa. viii. 6. The fact that
" the waters of Siloah that flow softly "' were supposed, like, those of other inter
mittent springs near Jerusalem, to have a healing power, would help the man's
faith. Even Mohammedans say that " Zemzem and Siloah are the two fountains
of Paradise."
2 See Suet. Vesp. 7 ; Tac. Hist. iv. 8 ; Plin. H. N. xxviii. 7 ; and other classical
passages quoted by Wetstein and subsequent commentators. Such indications as
that of St. John are, under these circumstances, an invaluable mark of truth ; for
what mythopoeic imagination, intent only on glorifying its object, would invent
particulars which might be regarded as depreciatory ?

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 421
They were lost in amazement, and made him repeat again and again
the story of his cure. But that story infused into their astonishment
a fresh element of Pharisaic indignation ; for this cure also had been
wrought on a Sabbath day. The Rabbis had forbidden any man to
smear even one of his eyes with spittle on the Sabbath, except in cases
of mortal danger. Jesus had not only smeared both the man's eyes,
but had actually mingled the saliva with clay! This, as an act of
mercy, was in the deepest and most inward accordance with the very
causes for which the Sabbath had been ordained, and the very lessons
of which it was meant to be a perpetual witness. But the spirit of
narrow literalism and slavish minuteness and quantitative obedience
— the spirit that hoped to be saved by the algebraical sum of good
and bad actions — had long degraded the Sabbath from the true idea
of its institution into a pernicious superstition. The Sabbath of
Rabbinism, with all its petty servility, was in no respect the Sabbath
of God's loving and holy law. It had degenerated into that which
St. Paul calls it, a itrooxmov eroixeiov, or " beggarly element." '
And these Jews were so imbued with this utter littleness, that a
unique miracle of mercy awoke in them less of astonishment and
gratitude than the horror kindled by a neglect of their Sabbatical
superstition. Accordingly, in all the zeal of letter-worshipping relig
ionism; they led off the man to the Pharisees in council. Then
followed the scene which St. John has recorded in a manner so inim
itably graphic in his ninth chapter. First came the repeated inquiry,
"how the thing had been done?" followed by the repeated assertion
of some of them that Jesus could not be from God, because He had
not observed the Sabbath ; and the reply of others that to press the
Sabbath-breaking was to admit the miracle, and to admit the miracle
was to establish the fact that He who performed it could not be the
criminal whom the others described. Then, being completely at a
standstill, they asked the blind man his opinion of his deliverer ; and
he — not being involved in their vicious circle of reasoning — replied
with fearless promptitude, " He is a Prophet." "
By this time they saw the kind of nature with which they had to
deal, and anxious for any loophole by which they could deny or set
aside the miracle, they sent for the man's parents. " Was this their
1 Gal. iv. 9.
2 And the Jews themselves went so far as to say that " if a prophet of un
doubted credentials should command all persons to light fires on the Sabbath day,
ami themselves for war, kill the inhabitants, &c, it would behoove all to rise up
without delay and execute all that he should direct without scruple or hesita
tion." (Maimonides, Porta Mosis, p. 29 [Pocock] ; Allen's Mod. Judaism, p. 26.)

422 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
son ? H they asserted that he had been born blind, how was it that
he now saw?" Perhaps they hoped to browbeat or to bribe these
parents into a denial of their relationship, or an admission of impos
ture ; but the parents also clung to the plain truth, while, with a
certain Judaic servility and cunning, they refused to draw any infer
ences which would lay them open to unpleasant consequences. " This
is certainly our son, and he was certainly born blind ; as to the rest,
we know nothing. Ask him. He is quite capable of answering for
himself." Then — one almost -pities their sheer perplexity — they turned to
the blind man again. He, as well as his parents, knew that the Jewish
authorities had agreed to pronounce the cherem, or ban of exclusion
from the synagogue, on any one who should venture to acknowledge
Jesus as the Messiah; and the Pharisees probably hoped that he
would be content to follow their advice, to give glory to God,1 *. e.,
deny or ignore the miracle, and to accept their dictum that Jesus
was a sinner.
But the man was made of sturdier stuff than his parents. He was
not to be overawed by their authority, or knocked down by their
assertions. He breathed quite freely in the halo-atmosphere of their
superior sanctity. " We know," the Pharisees had said, " that this
man is a sinner." " Whether He is a sinner," the man replied, " I
do not know ; one thing I do know, that, being blind, now I see."
Then they began again their weary and futile cross-examination.
"What did He do to thee ? how did He open thine eyes? " But the
man had had enough of this. " I told you once, and ye did not
attend. Why do ye wish to hear again ? Is it possible that ye too
wish to be His disciples?" Bold irony this — to ask these stately,
ruffled, scrupulous Sanhedrists, whether he was really to regard them
as anxious and sincere inquirers about the claims of the Nazarene
Prophet! Clearly here was a man whose presumptuous honesty
would neither be bullied into suppression nor corrupted into a lie.
He was quite impracticable. So, since authority, threats, blandish
ments had all failed, they broke into abuse. "_ Thou art His disci
ple : we are the disciples of Moses ; of this man we know nothing."
"Strange," he replied, "that you should know nothing of a man
1 "As if they would bind him to the strictest truthfulness" (Lange, iii. 335).
" The words are an adjuration to tell the truth (comp. Josh. vii. 19)," says ¦ Dean
Alford ; but he seems to confuse it with a phrase like Al-hamdu lilldh, " to God
be the praise" (of your care), which is a different thing, and would require rijv
Soiav. A friend refers me to 2 Cor. xi. 31 for a similar adjuration: cf. Rom. ix.
1,5.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 423
who yet has wrought a miracle such as not even Moses ever wrought ;
and we know that neither He nor any one else could have, done it,
unless He were from God." l What ! shades of Hillel and of
Shammai ! was a mere blind beggar, a natural ignorant heretic, alto
gether born in sins, to be teaching them ! Unable to control any
longer their transport of indignation, they flung him out of the hall,
and out of the synagogue.
But Jesus did not neglect His first confessor. He, too, in all
probability had, either at this or some previous time, been placed
under the ban of lesser excommunication, or exclusion from the
synagogue ; " for we scarcely ever again read of His re-entering any
of those synagogues which, during the earlier years of His ministry,
had been His favorite places of teaching and resort. He sought out
and found the man, and asked him, " Dost thou believe on the Son
of God ? " " Why,3 who is He, Lord," answered the man, " that I
should believe on Him ? "
" Thou hast both seen Him, and it is He who talketh with thee." *
" Lord, I believe," he answered ; and he did Him reverence.
It must have been shortly after this time that our Lord pointed
the contrast between the different effects of His teaching — they who
saw not, made to see ; and those who saw, made blind. The Phari
sees, ever restlessly and discontentedly hovering about Him, and in
their morbid egotism always on the look-out for some reflection on
themselves, asked " if they too were blind." The answer of Jesus
was, that in natural blindness there would have been no guilt, but to
1 There is no healing of the blind in the Old Testament, or in the Acts.
2 It is true that this mildest form of excommunication (nezvphah) was only tem
porary, for thirty days ; and that it applied to only one synagogue. But if it were
once pronounced, the time could easily be extended, so as to make it a niddoui
OWJ) for ninety days, and the decree be adopted by other synagogues (Gfrorer,
Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 183). Exclusion from the synagogue did not, however, involve
exclusion from the Temple, where a separate door was provided for the excom
municate. The last stage of excommunication was the cherem or shammatta,
which was as bad as the Roman interdictio ignis et aquae. The Jews declare that
Joshua Ben Perachiah had been the teacher of Jesus, and 'excommunicated Him
to) the blast of 400 rams'-horns. (Wagenseil, Sota, p. 1057). But this Joshuah
Ben Perachiah lived in the reign of Alexander Jannaeus, who died B . C. 79 !
3 xai rii idn (John ix. 36). The xai as often indicates a question full of sur
prise and emotion. See Jelf's Greek Syntax; § 759. Cf. Mark x. 26 (xai ni
Svvarai daoBrjvai ; " Who then can be saved ? ") ; Luke x. 29 ; 2 Cor. ii. 2.)
4 Professor Westcott points out the striking fact that this spontaneous revelation
to the outcast from the synagogue finds its only parallel in the similar revelation
(John iv. 26) to the outcast from the nation" (Characteristics of the Gosp. Miracles,
p. 61).

424 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
those who only stumbled in the blindness of wilful error a claim to
the possession of sight was a self-condemnation.
And when the leaders, the teachers, the guides were blind, how
could the people see ?
The thought naturally led Him to the nature of true and false
teachers, which He expanded and illustrated in the beautiful apologue
— half parable, half allegory — of the True and False Shepherds.
He told them that He was the Good Shepherd,1 who laid down His
fife for the sheep ; while the hireling shepherds, flying from danger
betrayed their flocks. He, too, was that door of the sheepfold, by
which all His true predecessors alone had entered, while all the false
— from the first thief who had climbed into God's fold — had broken
in some other way. And then He told them that of His own free
will He would lay down His life for the sheep, both of this and of
His other flocks," and that of His own power He would take it again.
But all these divine mysteries were more than they could Understand ;
and while some declared that they were the nonsense of one who had
a devil and was mad, others could only plead that they were not fike
the words of one who had a devil, and that a devil could not have
opened the eyes of the blind.
Thus, with but little fruit for them, save the bitter fruit of anger
and hatred, ended the visit of Jesus to the Feast of Tabernacles.
And since His very life was now in danger, He withdrew once more
from Jerusalem to Galilee, for one brief visit before He bade to His
old home His last farewell.
1 Speaking of this allegory, Mr. Sanday points out the circumstance that the
only other allegory in the Gospels is in John xv. " The Synoptists -have no alle
gories as distinct from parables. The fourth Evangelist no parables as a special
form of allegory" (Fourth Gospel, p. 167). As the phrase is.d itoiprjv o' xaXoi,
not dyaBdi, perhaps it had better be rendered " true shepherd," rather than
"good." But xaXoi is untranslateable.
2 In John x. 16, there is an unfortunate obliteration of the distinction between
the avXtf, " fold," and itoipvr/, " flock," of the original.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 425

CHAPTER XLII.
FAREWELL TO GALILEE.
'* I see that all things come to an end : but thy commandment is exceeding
broad." — Ps. cxix. 96.
Immediately after the events just recorded, St. John narrates
another incident which took place two months subsequently, at the
winter Feast of Dedication.1 In accordance with the main purpose
of His Gospel, which was to narrate that work of the Christ in Judsea,
and especially in Jerusalem, which the Synoptists had omitted, he
says nothing of an intermediate and final visit to Galilee, or of those
last journeys to Jerusalem respecting parts of which the other Evan
gelists supply us with so many details. And yet that Jesus must
have returned to Galilee is clear, not only from the other Evangel
ists, but also from the nature of the case and from certain incidental
facts in the narrative of .St. John himself."
It is well known that the whole of one great section in St. Luke
— from ix. 51 to xviii. 15 — forms an episode in the Gospel narra
tive of which many incidents are narrated by this Evangelist alone,
and in which the few identifications of time and place all point to one
slow and solemn progress from Galilee to Jerusalem (ix. 51 ; xiii.
22 ; xvii. 11 ; x. 38). Now after the Feast of Dedication our Lord
retired into Persea, until He was summoned thence by the death of
Lazarus (John x. 40 — 42 ; xi. 1 — 46) ; after the resurrection of Laz
arus, He fled to Ephraim (xi. 54) ; and He did not leave His retire
ment at Ephraim until He went to Bethany, six days before His final
Passover (xii. 1).
This great journey, therefore, from Galilee to Jerusalem, so rich
in occasions which called forth some of His most memorable utter-
1 " John x. 22 — 42. The Feast of Tabernacles was at the end of September or
early in October. The Dedication was on December 20.
2 See John x. 25 (which evidently refers to His last discourse to them two
months before) and 40 (" again "). Besides, the expression of John x. 22, ' ' And it
was the Dedication at Jerusalem," would have little meaning if a new visit were
not Implied ; and those words are perhaps added for the very reason that the
Dedication might be kept anywhere else.
54

426 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ances, must have been either a journey to the Feast of Tabernacles
or to the Feast of Dedication. That it could not have been the
former may be regarded as settled, not only on other grounds, but
decisively because that was a rapid and a secret journey, this an emi
nently public and leisurely one.
Almost every inquirer seems to differ to a greater or less degree
as to the exact sequence and chronology of the events which follow.
Without entering into minute and tedious disquisitions where abso
lute certainty is impossible, I will narrate this period of our Lord's
life in the order which, after repeated study of the Gospels, appears
to me to be the most probable, and in the separate details of which
I have found myself again and again confirmed by the conclusions
of other independent inquirers. And here I will only premise my
conviction —
1. That the episode of St. Luke up to xviii. 30, mainly refers to a
single journey, although unity of subject, or other causes, may have
led the sacred writer to weave into his narrative some events or utter
ances which belong to an earlier or later epoch.1
2. That the order of the facts narrated even by St. Luke alone is
not," and does not in any way claim to be,1 strictly chronological ; so
that the place of any event in the narrative by no means necessarily
indicates its true' position in the order of time.
3. That this journey is identical with that which is partially
recorded in Matt, xviii. 1 — xx. 16 ; Mark x. 1 — 31.
4. That (as seems obvious from internal evidence 4) the events nar-
1 E. g., ix. 57—62 (cf. Matt. viii. 19—22) ; xi. 1—13 (cf. Matt. vi. 9—15 ; vii.
7—12) ; xi. 14—26 (cf . Matt. ix. 32—35) ; xi. 29— xii. 59 (compared with parts of
the Sermon on the Mount, &c). Of course the dull and recklessly adopted
hypothesis of a constant repetition of incidents may here come in to support the
preconceived notions of some harmonists ; but it is an hypothesis mainly founded
on a false and unscriptural view of inspiration, and one which must not be adopted
without the strongest justification. The occasional repetition of discourses is a
much more natural supposition, and one inherently probable from the circum
stances of the case.
2 E. g„ x. 38—42 ; xiii. 31—35 ; xvii. 11—19.
3 The notes of time and place throughout are of the vaguest possible character,
evidently because the form of the narrative is here determined by other considera
tions (see x. 1, 25, 38 ; xi. 1, 14 ; xii. 1, 22 ; xiii. 6, 22 ; xiv. 1 ; xvii. 12, &c). There
seems to be no ground whatever for supposing that St. Luke meant to claim abso.
lute chronological accuracy by the expression, Ttapr)XoXovBr)x6ri dxpi/3aoi, in
i. 3 ; and indeed it seems clear from a study of his Gospel that, though he fol
lowed the historical sequence as far as he was able to do so, he often groups events
and discourses by spiritual and subjective considerations.
4 See, among other passages, Mark x. 17; Matt. xix. 16.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 427
rated in Matt. xx. 17—28 ; Mark x. 32—45 ; Luke xviii. 31—34,
belong not to tliis journey, but to the last which Jesus ever took —
the journey from Ephraim to Bethany and Jerusalem.
Assuming these conclusions to be justified — and I believe that they
will commend themselves as at least probable to any who really study
the data of the problem — we naturally look to see if there are any
incidents which can only be referred to this last residence of Jesus in
Galilee after the Feast of Tabernacles. The sojourn must have been
a very brief one, and seems to have had no other object than that of
preparing for the Mission of the Seventy, and inaugurating the final
proclamation of Christ's kingdom throughout all that part of the Holy
Land which had as yet been least familiar with His word and works.
His instructions to the Seventy involved His last farewell to Galilee,
and the delivery of those instructions synchronized, in all probability,
with His actual departure. But there are two other incidents recorded
in the 13th chapter, which probably belong to the same brief sojourn
— namely, the news of a Galilsean massacre, and the warning which
He received of Herod's designs against His life.
The home of Jesus during these few last days would naturally be
at Capernaum, His own city ; and while He was there organizing a
solemn departure to which there would be no return, there were some
" who came and announced to Him a recent instance of those numer
ous disturbances which marked the Procuratorship of Pontius Pilate.
Of the particular event to which they alluded nothing further is
known ; and that a few turbulent zealots should have been cut down
at Jerusalem by the Roman garrison was too common-place an
event in these troublous times to excite more than a transient notice.
There were probably hundreds of such outbreaks of which Josephus
has preserved no record. The inflammable fanaticism of the Jews
at this epoch — the restless hopes which were constantly kindling
them to fury against the Roman Governor,1 and which made them
the ready dupes of every false Messiah— had necessitated the con
struction of the Tower of Antonia, which flung its threatening shadow
over the Temple itself. This Tower communicated with the Temple
by a flight of steps, so that the Roman legionaries could rush down
at once, and suppress any of the disturbances which then, as now,
endangered the security of Jerusalem at the recurrence of every
1 Acts xxi. 34. Three thousand Jews had been massacred by Archelaus in one
single Paschal disturbance thirty years before this time ; and on one occasion
Pilate had actually disguised his soldiers as peasants, and sent them to use their
daggers freely among the mob. (See Jos. Antt. xvii. 9, § 3 ; 10, § 2 ; xviii. 3, § 1 ;
B. J. ii. 9, | 4.)

428 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
religious feast.1 And of all the Jews, the Galilseans, being the most
passionately turbulent and excitable, were the most likely to suffer hi
such collisions. Indeed, the main fact which seems in this instance
to have struck the narrators, was not so much the actual massacre
as the horrible incident that the blood of these murdered rioters had
been actually mingled with the red streams that flowed from the
victims they had been offering in sacrifice." And those who brought
the news to Christ did so, less with any desire to complain of the
sanguinary boldness of the Roman Governor, than with a curiosity
about the supposed crimes which must have brought upon these
slaughtered worshippers so hideous and tragical a fate.
The Book of Job stood in Hebrew literature as an eternal witness
against these sweeping deductions of a confident uncharity ; but the
spirit of Eliphaz, and Zophar, and Bildad still survived,3 and our Lord
on every occasion seized the opportunity of checking and reproving
it. " Do ye imagine," He said, " that these Galilseans were sinners
above all the Galilseans, because they suffered such things ? I tell
you, Nay : but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." And
then He reminded them of another recent instance of sudden death,
in which " the Tower in Siloam " had fallen, and crushed eighteen
people who happened to be under it ; " and He told them that so far
from these poor sufferers having been specially criminal, they should
all, if they did not repent, be involved in a similar destruction. No
doubt, the main lesson which Christ desired to teach, was that every
circumstance of life, and every violence of man, was not the result
either of idle accident or direct retribution, but formed part of one
great scheme of Providence in which man is permitted to recognize
the one prevailing law — viz., that the so-called accidents of life hap
pen alike to all, but that all should in due time receive according to
1 The Turkish Government have, with considerable astuteness, fixed the annual
pilgrimage of Mohammedans to the Tomb of the Prophet Moses (!) at the very
time when the return of Easter inundates Jerusalem with Christian pilgrims. I
met hundreds of these servants of the Prophet in the environs of the Sacred City
during the Easter of 1870, and they would be a powerful assistance to the Turks
in case of any Christian outbreak in the Chureh of the Holy Sepulchre.
2 The same fact recurs more than once in the details of the siege of Jerusalem.
It is clear, however, that some links are missing to our comprehension of this
story ; for one would have expected that Galilaians butchered in the Temple by a
Roman Governor would have been looked upon as martyrs rather than as criminals.
3 Job. iv. 7 ; viii. 20 ; xxii. 5.
4 Ewald supposes that these men had been engaged in constructing the aqueduct
which the Jews regarded as impious, because Pilate had sequestrated the corban
money for this secular purpose (Jos. B. J. ii. 9, § 4).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 429
their works.1 But His words had also a more literal fulfilment ; and,
doubtless, there may have been some among His hearers who lived
to call them to mind when the Jewish race was being miserably deci
mated by the sword of Titus, and the last defenders of Jerusalem,
after deluging its streets with blood, fell crushed among the flaming
ruins of the Temple, which not even their lives could save.
The words were very stem : but Christ did not speak to them in
the language of warning only ; He held out to them a gracious hope.
Once, and again, and yet again ; the fig-tree might be found a barren
cumberer of the ground," but there was One to intercede for it still ;
and even yet — though now the axe was uplifted, nay, though it was
at its backmost poise — even yet, if at the last the tree, so carefully
tended, should bring forth fruit, that axe should be stayed, and its
threatened stroke should not rush through the parted air.
Short as His stay at His old home was meant to be, His enemies
would gladly have shortened it still further. They were afraid of,
they were weary of, the Lord of Life. Yet they did not dare openly
to confess their sentiments. The Pharisees came to Him in sham
solicitude for His safety, and said, " Get thee out, and depart hence ;
for Herod is wanting to kill thee." 3
Had Jesus yielded to fear — had He hastened His departure in
consequence of a danger, which even if it had any existence, except
in their own imaginations, had at any rate no immediate urgency —
doubtless, they would have enjoyed a secret triumph at His expense.
But His answer was supremely calm: "Go," He said, "and tell this
fox,4 Behold, I am casting out devils, and working cures to-day and
to-morrow, and on the third my work is done." 6 And then He adds,

1 See Amos iii. 6 ; ix. 1.
2 Luke xiii. 7, ivari xai rrjv yrjv xarapysi; " Why does it even render the
ground barren?" There seems to be a natural reference to the three years of our
Lord's own ministry.
3 The assertion was probably quite untrue. It is inconsistent with Luke
xxiii. 8.
4 Luke xiii. 32, rp dXaoitexi ra-dr-g, as though Herod were with them in
person, as he was like them in cunning. " Non quod haec verba de Herode non
dixerit, sed quod in person^ Herodis, quam illi sibi induebant . . . eos uota-
verit atque ref ellerit " 299 (Maldon) .
5 Tulg. " consummor ; " or, perhaps, " I shall reach my goal : " such seems to be
at least an admissible rendering of the difficult word rsXeiovpai (cf. Phil. iii. 12 ;
Acts xx. 24). I have given it the sense which it has in John xix. 28. The word
was afterwards used of a martyr's death, as in the inscription 6 olyioi Qaopai
Xoyxv ¦ ¦ reXsiovrai (Routh, Rel. Sacr. i. 376, ap. Wordsworth, ad loc) ; and
even of natural death (Euseb. Vit. Const. 47). Cf. " Sic Tiberius finivit" (Tac.
Ann. vi. 50). (Schleusner.)

430 TEE LIFE PF CHRIST.
with the perfect confidence of security mingled with the bitter irony
of sorrow, " But I must go ' on my course to-day, and to-morrow, and
the day following ; for it cannot be that a prophet perish out of
Jerusalem." And, perhaps, at this sorrowful crisis His oppressed
feelings may have found vent in some pathetic cry over the fallen
sinful city, so red with the blood of her murdered messengers, fike
that which He also uttered when He wept over it on the summit of
Olivet." The little ¦ plot of these Pharisees had entirely failed. Whether
Herod had really entertained any vague intention of seeing Jesus and
putting Him to death as he had put to death His kinsman John, or
whether the whole rumor was a pure invention, Jesus regarded it
with consummate indifference. Whatever Herod might be design
ing, His own 'intention was to finish His brief stay in Galilee in His
own due time, and not before. A day or two yet remained to Him
in which He would continue to perform His works of mercy on all
who sought Him ; after that brief interval the time would have come
when he should be received up,3 and He would turn His back for
the last time on the home of His youth, and " set His face steadfastly
to go to Jerusalem." Till then — so they must tell their crafty
patron, whom they themselves resembled — He was under an invio-
1 itopEvEdBai used in a different sense from their previous itopevov. The
itXijv seems to mean, " Yet, though my remaining time is short, I shall not further
shorten it, for," &c. Of course the " to-day," &c, means a time indefinite, yet
brief. 2 Marvellously has that woe been fulfilled. Every Jewish pilgrim who enters
Jerusalem to this day has a rent made in his dress, and says, " Zion is turned into
a desert, it lies.in ruins I " (Dr. Frankl, Jews in the East, E. Tr. ii. 2.) Sapir, the
Jewish poet of Wilna, addressed Dr. Frankl thus — " Here all is dust. After the
destruction of the city, the whole earth blossoms from its ruins ; but here there
is no verdure, no blossom, only a bitter fruit — sorrow. Look for no joy here,
either from men or from mountains " (id. p. 9). A wealthy and pious Jew came
to settle at Jerusalem : after two years' stay he left it with the words, " Let him
that wishes to have neither aulom haze (' the pleasures of this life ') nor aulom
habo-(' those of the life to come ') live at Jerusalem " (id. p. 120). ,— The transla
tion is Dr. Frankl's, not mine.
3 Luke ix. 51, iv rcS dvpitXrjpovdBai rdi r/pspai riji dvaXrjipsoDi avrov
— i. e„ as Euthymius adds, dito yfji eii ovpavov. The word is, in. the New
Testament, a ditat- Xsydpsvov, but it is mere sophistry to make it fall in with
any harmonistic scheme by giving it the meaning of " His reception by men," as
Wieseler does (Synops., pp. 295 — 297). Even Lange has now abandoned it as un
tenable. It can only mean what the verb dvEXijcpBif means in Acts i. 2, 22 (cf.
Mark xvi. 19), and in the LXX. (2 Kings ii. 9 — 11). The word occurs in the title
of an Apocryphal book, the 'AvdXipipii MaidEaoi, or Assumption of Moses, and
Irenseus speaks of ryv Evdapxov Eti rovi' ovpavovi dvaXr/ibiv. Sophocles
gives several instances of its use in the Apost. Constitutions, and later writers.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 431
lable protection, into which neither their malice nor his cruelty could
intrude. And He deservedly bestowed on Herod Antipas the sole word of
pure unmitigated contempt which is ever recorded to have passed
His lips. Words of burning anger He sometimes spoke — words of
scathing indignation — words of searching irony — words of playful
humor ; but some are startled to find Him using words of sheer con
tempt. Yet why not ? there can be no noble soul which is wholly
destitute of scorn. The " scorn of scorn " must exist side by side
with the " love of love." Like anger, like the power of moral indig
nation, scorn has its due place as a righteous function in the economy
of human emotions, and as long as there are things of which we
rightly judge as contemptible, so long must contempt remain. And
if ever there was a man who richly deserved contempt, it was the
paltry, perjured princeling — false to his religion, false to his nation,
false to his friends, false to his brethren, false to his wife — to whom
Jesus gave the name of "this fox." The inhuman vices which the-
Csesars displayed on the vast theatre of their absolutism — the lust,
the cruelty, the autocratic insolence, the ruinous extravagance — all
these were seen in pale reflex in these little Neros and Caligulas of
the provinces — these local tyrants, half Idumsean, half Samaritan,
who aped the worst degradations of the Imperialism to which they
owed their very existence. Judsea might well groan under the odious
and petty despotism of these hybrid Herodians — jackals who fawned
about the feet of the Csesarean lions.1 Respect for " the powers that
be " can hardly, as has well been said, involve respect for all the
impotences and imbecilities.
Whether " this fox " ever heard the manner in which our Lord
had characterized him and his dominion we do not know ; in lifetime
they never met, until, on the morning of the crucifixion, Antipas
vented upon Jesus his empty insults. But now Jesus calmly con
cluded His last task in Galilee. He summoned His followers
together, and out of them chose seventy to prepare His way. Their
number was probably symbolic," and the mission of so large a num-

1 What has been said of Agrippa is equally true of Antipas, viz., that " he had
been the meanest thing the world had ever seen — a courtier of the early empire
. . He had been corrupted by the influence of the Roman court, and had flat
tered the worst vices of the worst men in the worst age of the world's history."
(Paul of Tarsus, p. 205).
2 Some MSS. alter it into " seventy-two " to connect their number with the
number of the Sanhedrin, and the elders appointed by Moses [about which, how
ever, there is the same variation] (Exod. xxiv. 1). Others, with no authority but

432 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ber to go before Him two and two, and prepare for His arrival in
every place which He intended to visit, implies for this last journey
of proclamation an immense publicity. The instructions which He
gave them closely resemble those which He had issued to the Twelve ;
and, indeed, differ from them only in being more brief, because they
refer to a more transitory office; in omitting the now needless
restrictions about not visiting the Gentiles and Samaritans ; and per
haps in bestowing upon them less ample miraculous power.1 They
also breathe a sadder tone, inspired by the experience of incessant
rejection. And now the time has come for Him to set forth, and it must be
in sorrow. He left, indeed, some faithful hearts behind Him ; but
how few ! Galilee had rejected Him, as Judea had rejected Him.
On one side of the lake which He loved, a whole populace in unani
mous deputation had besought Him to depart out of their coasts ; on
the other, they had vainly tried to vex His last days among theni by
a miserable conspiracy to frighten Him into flight. At Nazareth,
the sweet mountain village of His childish days — at Nazareth, with
all its happy memories of His boyhood and His mother's home —
they had treated Him with such violence and outrage, that He could
not visit it again. And even at Chorazin, and Capernaum, and Beth
saida — on those Eden-shores of the silver lake — in the green deli
cious plain, whose every field He had traversed with His apostles, per
forming deeds of mercy and uttering words of love — even there they
• loved the whited sepulchres of a Pharisaic sanctity, and the shallow
traditions of a Levitical ceremonial better than the light and the life
which had been offered them by the Son of God. They were feed
ing on ashes ; a deceived heart had turned them aside. On many
a great city of antiquity, on Nineveh and Babylon, on Tyre and
Sidon, on Sodom and Gomorrah, had fallen the wrath of God ; yet
even Nineveh and Babylon would have humbled their gorgeous idol
atries, even Tyre and Sidon have turned from their greedy vanities,
yea, even Sodom and Gomorrah would have repented from their
filthy lusts, had they seen the mighty works which had been done in
fancy, connect it with the ideal seventy nations of the world. (Lightfoot, Hor.
Hebr., in John vii. 37). These seventy nations are supposed to have been separated
at Babel (see Targ. Ps. Jonath. in Gen. xi. 7, 8).
1 Compare Matt. x. 5—42 with Luke x. 1 — 12. We must not press the fact
that dpvai, "lambs," is in Luke x. 3 substituted for itpdfjara in Matt. x. 16.
The prohibition to greet any one by the way is proverbial of any hasty mission
(2 Kings iv. 29), and arose from the fact that Oriental greetings are much longer
and more elaborate than ours. (Thomson, Land and Book, II. ch. xxiv.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 433
these little cities and villages of the Galikean sea. xVnd, therefore,
" Woe unto thee, Chorazin ! woe unto thee, Bethsaida ! " and unto
thee, Capernaum, " His own city," a yet deeper woe !
With such thoughts in His heart, and such words on His lips, he
started forth from the scene of His rejected ministry ; and on all this
land, and most of all on that region of it, the woe has fallen. Exqui
site still in its loveliness, it is now desolate and dangerous. The birds
still sing in countless myriads ; the water-fowl still play on the crystal
mere ; the brooks flow into it from the neighboring hill, " filling their
bosoms with pearl, and scattering their path with emeralds ; " the
aromatic herbs are still fragrant when the foot crushes them, and the
tall oleanders fill the air with their delicate perfume as of old ; but the
vineyards and fruit-gardens have disappeared ; the fleets and fishing-
boats cease to traverse the lake ; the hum of men is silent ; the stream
of prosperous commerce has ceased to flow. The very names and
sites of the towns and cities are forgotten ; and where they once
shone bright and populous, flinging their shadows across the sunlit
waters, there are now grey mounds where even the ruins are too
ruinous to be distinguishable. One solitary palm-tree by one squalid
street of huts, degraded and frightful beyond any, even in Palestine,
still marks the site, and recalls the name of the one little town where
lived that sinful penitent woman who once washed Christ's feet with
her tears and wiped them with the hairs of her head.1
And the very generation which rejected Him was doomed to recall
in bitter and fruitless agony these peaceful happy days of the Son of
Man. Thirty years had barely elapsed when the storm of Roman
invasion burst furiously over that smiling land. He who will, may
read in the Jewish War of Josephus the hideous details of the slaugh
ter which decimated the cities of Galilee, and wrung from the histo
rian the repeated confession that " it was certainly God who brought
the Romans to punish the Galilseans," and exposed the people of oity
after city " to be destroyed by their bloody enemies." " Immediately
after the celebrated passage in which he describes the lake and plain
of Gennesareth as " the ambition of nature," 3 follows a description of
that terrible sea-fight on these bright waters, in which the number of
the slain, including those killed in the city, was six thousand five
1 The " Woe unto thee, Chorazin," and the ¦• And thou, Capernaum," receive a,
very striking illustration from the photographs of the two sites by the Palestine
Exploration Fund.
2 Jos. B. J. iii. 7, § 31.
3 Jos. B. J. iii. 10, § 8 ; «. supra., p. 153. I here quote the translation of
Whiston. 55

434 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
hundred. Hundreds were stabbed by the Romans or run through
with poles ; others tried to save their lives by diving, but if once
they raised their heads were slain by darts ; or if they swam to the
Roman vessels had their heads or hands lopped off ; while others
were chased to the land and there massacred. " One might then,"
the historian continues, " see the lake all bloody, and full of dead
bodies, for not one of them escaped. And a, terrible stink, and a
very sad sight there was, on the following days over thai country ;
for, as for the shores, they were full of shipwrecks and of dead
bodies all swelled ; and as the dead bodies were inflamed by the sun,
and putrified, they corrupted the air, insomuch that the misery was
not only an object of commiseration to the Jews, but even to those
that hated them, and had been the authors of that misery." Of those
that died amid this butchery ; of those whom Yespasian immediately
afterwards abandoned to brutal and treacherous massacre between
Tarichese and Tiberias ; of those twelve hundred " old and useless "
whom he afterwards caused to be slain in the stadium ; of the six
thousand whom he sent to aid Nero in his attempt to dig through
the Isthmus of Athos ; of the thirty thousand four hundred whom
he sold as slaves — -may there not have been many who in their agony
and exile, in their hour of death and day of judgment,' recalled Him
whom they had repudiated, and remembered that the sequel of all
those gracious words which had proceeded out of His lips had been
the " woe" which their obduracy called forth !
There could not but be sorrow in such a parting from such a scene.
And yet the divine spirit of Jesus could not long be a prey to con
suming sadness. Out of the tenebrous influences cast about it from
the incessant opposition of unbelief and sin, it was ever struggling
into the purity and peace of heaven, from the things seen and tem
poral to the things unseen and eternal, from the shadows of human
degradation into the sunlight of God's -peace. "In that hour Jesus
rejoiced in spirit," and what a joy ! what a boundless, absorbing
exultation," as He thought no longer of judgment but of compas-
1 Since writing the above I have read the powerful descriptions of the same
fact in Renan's L'Antechrist, p. 277. He says, "II y a dans l'histoire peu d'ex-
emples d'une race entie're ainsi broyee."300
2 r/yaXXiddaro. It seems clear that Luke x. 21 belongs closely to the address
which closes in verse 16, though St. Luke pauses to record in the intermediate
verses the return of the Seventy. This must be evident to any one who compares
the passage with Matt. xi. 20 — 27 ; and unless we adopt the unlikely hypothesis
that both series of words were uttered twice in different connections, it is clear
that St. Luke's context here suits them best ; and, moreover, this mark of time
here given by St. Luke is slightly the more definite of the two.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 435
sion ; as He turned not with faint trust but perfect knowledge to
"the larger hope;" as He remembered how that which was hidden
from the wise and prudent had been revealed unto babes; as He
dwelt upon the thought that He was sent not to the rich and learned
few, but to the ignorant and suffering many ; as He told His disci
ples, that into His, yea, into His own loving hands, had Plis Father
committed all power, and that in Him they would see and know the
spirit of His Father, and thereby might see and know that revelation
for which many kings and prophets had sighed in vain. And then,
that even in the hour of denunciation not one of them might doubt
His own or His Father's love, He uttered in that same hour of rapt
and exalted ecstasy, those tenderest words ever uttered in human
language as God's message and invitation to His children in the suf
fering family of man, " Come unto me all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and
learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find
rest unto your souls."
So, over a temporary sorrow there triumphed an infinite and
eternal joy. There are some who have dwelt too exclusively on
Jesus as the Man of Sorrows ; have thought of His fife as of one
unmitigated suffering, one almost unbroken gloom. But in the
¦ Bible — though there alone — we find the perfect compatibility, nay,
the close union of joy with sorrow ; and myriads of Christians who
have been " troubled on every side, yet not distressed ; perplexed,
but not in despair ; persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not
destroyed," can understand how the Man of Sorrows, even in the
days of His manhood, may have lived a life happier, in the true sense
of happiness — happier, because purer, more sinless, more faithful,
more absorbed in the joy of obedience to His Heavenly Father —
than has been ever granted to the sons of men. The deep pure
stream flows on its way rejoicing, even though the forests overshadow
it, and no transient sunshine flickers on its waves.
And if, indeed, true joy — the highest joy — be "severe, and
chaste, and solitary, and incompatible," then how constant, how
inexpressible, what a joy of God, must have been the joy of the
Man Christ Jesus, who came to give to all who love Him, henceforth
and for ever, a joy which no man taketh from them — a joy which
the world can neither give nor take away.

436 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XLIII.
incidents op the journey.
" Religionis non est religionem cogere." 301 — Tert. Ad. Scap. 2.
We are not told the exact route taken by Jesus as He left Gen
nesareth; but as He probably avoided Nazareth, with its deeply
happy and deeply painful memories, He may have crossed the bridge
at the southern extremity of the Lake, and so got round into the
plain of Esdraelon either by the valley of Bethshean,1 or over Mount
Tabor and round Little Hermon," passing Endor and Nain and Shu-
nem on His way.
Crossing the plain, and passing Taanach and Megiddo, He would
reach the range of hills which form the northern limit of Samaria ;
and at the foot of their first ascent lies the fittle town of En-gannim,
or the " Fountain of Gardens." 3 This would be the first Samaritan
village at which He would arrive, and hither, apparently, He had
sent two messengers "to make ready for Him." Although the inci
dent is mentioned by St. Luke before the Mission of the Seventy,
yet that is probably due to his subjective choice of order, and we
may suppose that there were two of the seventy who were dispatched
to prepare the way for Him spiritually as well as in the more ordinary
sense ; unless, indeed, we adopt the conjecture that the messengers
may have been James and John, who would thus be likely to feel
with special vividness the insult of His rejection. At any rate the
inhabitants — who to this day are not remarkable for their civility to
strangers 4 — absolutely declined to receive or admit Him. Previously
indeed, when He was passing through Samaria on His journey north
wards, He had found Samaritans not only willing to receive, but
anxious to detain His presence among them, and eager to listen to His
words. But now in two respects the circumstances were different ;
' Now the Wady Mujeidah.
2 Along part of the Wady Bireh.
3 Luke ix. 51—56. En-gannim is still a very pleasant spot, deserving its poetic
name, which is now corrupted into Jenln.
4 So we were told on the spot, though we experienced no personal rudeness
there. " They are," says Dr. Thomson, " fanatical, rude, and rebellious " (Land
and Book, II., ch. xxx.).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 437
for now He was professedly travelling to the city which they hated
and the Temple which they despised, and now He was attended, not
by a few Apostles, but by a great multitude, who were accompanying
Him as their acknowledged Prophet and Messiah. Had Gerizim and
not Jerusalem been the goal of His journey, all might have been
different ; but now His destination and His associates inflamed their
national animosity too much to admit of their supplying to the weary
pilgrims the ordinary civilities of life. And if the feelings of this
fittle frontier village of En-gannim were so unmistakably hostile, it
became clear that any attempt to journey through the whole breadth
of Samaria, and even to pass under the shadow of their rival sanc
tuary, would be a dangerous if not a hopeless task.1 Jesus therefore
altered the course of His journey, and turned once more towards the
Jordan valley. Rejected by Galilee, refused by Samaria, without a
word He bent His steps towards Persea.
But the deep discouragement of this refusal to receive Him was
mingled in the minds of James and John with hot indignation.
There is nothing so trying, so absolutely exasperating, as a failure to
find food and shelter, and common civility, after the fatigue of
travel, and especially for a large multitude to begin a fresh journey
when they expected rest. Full, therefore, of the Messianic kingdom,
which now at last they thought was on the eve of being mightily
proclaimed, the two brothers wanted to usher it in with a blaze of
Sinaitic vengeance, and so to astonish and restore the flagging spirits
of followers who would naturally be discouraged by so immediate
and decided a repulse. " Lord, wilt Thou that we command fire to
come down from heaven, and consume them, even as Elias did?"
" What wonder," says St. Ambrose, " that the Sons of Thunder
wished to flash lightning ? " And this their fiery impetuosity seemed
to find its justification not only in the precedent of Elijah's conduct,"
1 The exacerbation between Jews and Samaritans was always at its worst dur
ing the anniversaries of the national feasts ; and it often broke out into acts of
open hostility. In consequence of this, the caravans of Galilsean pilgrims seem
in many instances [though by no means always (Jos. Antt. xx. 6, § 1 ; Vit. 52)]
to have chosen the route on the east of Jordan. The Jews accused the Samari
tans of wilfully molesting their harmless travellers, even of the horrible crime of
having lit false fire-signals to show the time of new moon, and of having polluted
their Temple by scattering in it the bones of the dead (see Jos. Antt. xviii. 2, § 2 ;
B. J. ii. 12, §§ 3, seqq.). ( Vid. supra, p. 175.)
2 2 Kings i. 10 — 12. The aoi xdi 'HXi'ai titoirjdEm (Luke ix. 54) is omitted
(perhaps on dogmatic grounds) in N, B, L. But as Bishop Andrewes says, " The
times require sometimes one spirit, sometimes another. Elias' time, Elias' spirit."
The notion, however, that the brothers received the name " Boanerges " (B>JT 'J 2)
from this circumstance is quite groundless. (See p. 207.)

438 - THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
but in the fact that it had been displayed in this very country of
Samaria. Was it more necessary in personal defence of a single
prophet than to vindicate the honor of the Messiah and his attend
ants? But Jesus turned and rebuked them. God's heaven has
other uses than for thunder. " They did not know," He told them,
" what spirit they were of." ' They had not realized the difference
which separated Sinai and Carmel from Calvary and Hermon. He
had come to save, not to destroy ; and if any heard His words and
believed not, He judged them not." And so, without a word of
anger, He went to a different village ; " and doubtless St. John, who
by that time did know of what spirit he was, remembered these
words of Christ when he went with Peter into Samaria to confirm
the recent converts, and to bestow upon them the gift of the Holy
Ghost. Perhaps it may have been on this occasion — for certainly no occa
sion would have been more suitable than that furnished by this early
and rude repulse — that Jesus, turning to the great multitudes that
accompanied Him,4 delivered to them that memorable discourse in
which He warned them that all who would be His disciples must

1 The words are omitted in many MSS. (N, A, B, C, E, L, &c). Alford, how
ever, supposes that they " have been unsparingly tampered with " because they
stood in the way of ecclesiastical censures. They occur in D, and in some good
versions. 2 John iii. 17 ; xii. 47.
3 The srspav 303 (Luke ix. 56) probably implies that it was not a Samaritan
village. 4 Luke xiv. 25 — 33. We must ask the reader to bear in mind throughout this
and the following chapter that the exact sequence of events is not here given by
the Evangelists, and therefore that the certain order in which they occurred is
not ascertainable. In a thoughtful but quite inconclusive pamphlet by the Rev.
W. Stewart (Maclehose, Glasgow, 1873) called The Plan of St. Luke's Gospel,
he supposes that the Evangelist arranged these unchronological incidents alpha
betically by the leading conceptions of the paragraph — e. g., dyaitdv, Luke x.
25—28, 29—37, 38—42 ; atreiv, xi. 1—4, 5—8, 9—13 ; dvriXiy eiv ,xi. 14—32, &c.
Thus under x (xpivsiv) would fall xii. 35—38, 39-46, 47, 48, 51—53, 54—56, 57,
68, 59 ; xiii. 1—5, 6—9. Under x (xaivsiv) xvi. 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19—31, &c. The
theory, which is worked out with as much ingenuity as it admits, will at least
serve to show how little chronological sequence is traceable in the great division
of St. Luke x. — xviii. 31. Professor Westcott (Introd. to Gosp., p. 365, 3rd ed.)
arranges the contents of the section (omitting the minor divisions) as follows : —
The Universal Church ; The Rejection of the Jews foreshown ; Preparation (ix.
43 — xi. 13); Lessons of warning (xi. 14 — xiii. 9) ; Lessons of progress (xiii. 10 —
xiv. 24); Lessons of discipleship (xiv. 25 — xvii. 10) ; The coming end (xvii. 11 —
xviii. 30). It is obviously more probable that St. Luke was guided by some such
subjective sequence, than that he should have adopted the poor expedient of an
alphabetical arrangement of unclassified fragments.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 439
come to Him, not expecting earthly love or acceptance, but expecting
alienation and opposition, and counting the cost. They must aban
don, if need be, every earthly tie ; they must sit absolutely loose to
the interests of the world ; : they must take up the cross and follow
Him. Strange language, of which it was only afterwards that they
learnt the full significance ! For a man to begin a tower which he
could not finish — for a king to enter on a war in which nothing was
possible save disaster and defeat — involved disgrace and indicated
folly ; better not to follow Him at all, unless they followed Him pre
pared to forsake all that they had on earth ; prepared to sacrifice the
interests of time, and to live solely for those of eternity. One who
believed not, would indeed suffer loss and harm, yet his lot was less
pitiable than that of him who became a disciple only to be a back
slider — who, facing both ways, cast like Lot's wife a longing glance
on all that he ought to flee — who made the attempt, at once impotent
and disastrous, to serve both God and Mammon.
As both Galilee and Samaria were now closed to Him, He could
only journey on His way to Persea, down the valley of Bethshean,
between the borders of both provinces. There a very touching inci
dent occurred." On the outskirts of one of the villages a dull, harsh,
plaintive cry smote His ears, and looking up He saw " ten men who
were lepers," united in a community of deadly misery. They were
afar off, for they dared not approach, since their approach was pollu
tion, and they were obliged to warn away all who would have come
near them by the heart-rending cry, "Tame! tame!"— "Unclean!
unclean ! " There was something in that living death of leprosy —
recalling as it did the most frightful images of suffering and degra
dation, corrupting as it did the very fountains of the life-blood of man,
distorting his countenance, rendering loathsome his touch, slowly
encrusting and infecting him with a plague-spot of disease far more
horrible than death itself — which always seems to have thrilled the
Lord's heart with a keen and instantaneous compassion. And never
more so than at this moment. Scarcely had He heard their piteous cry
of " Jesus, Master, have mercy on us," than instantly, without sufficient

1 The " hate " of Luke xiv. 26 is adopted in strict accordance with our Lord's
habit of stating the great truths which He uttered in the extremest form of what,
to His hearers, must even sound like paradox, in order that their inmost essential
truth — their truth without any subterfuge or qualification — might be recog
nized, and so fixed eternally in their memory. (See supra, p. 215.) It was neces
sary that they should be uttered in such a way as to seize, and dominate over.
the imagination of mankind for ever
2 Luke xvii. 11—19.

440 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
pause even to approach them more nearly, He called aloud to them,
" Go, show yourselves unto the priests." They knew the significance
of that command : they knew that it bade them hurry off to claim from
the priest the recognition of their cure, the certificate of their restitu
tion to every rite and privilege of human life.1 Already, at the sound
of that potent voice, they felt a stream of wholesome life, of recovered
energy, of purer blood, pulsing through their veins ; and as they
went they were cleansed.
He who has not seen the hideous, degraded spectacle of the lepers
clamorously revealing their mutilations, and almost demanding alms,
by the roadside of some Eastern city," can hardly conceive how trans
cendent and immeasurable was the boon which they had thus received
at the hands of Jesus. One would have thought that they would
have suffered no obstacle to hinder the passionate gratitude which
should have prompted them to hasten back at once — to struggle, if
need be, even through fire and water, if thereby they could fling
themselves with tears of heartfelt acknowledgment at their Saviour's
feet, to thank Him for a gift of something more precious than life
itself. What absorbing selfishness, what Jewish infatuation, what
sacerdotal interference, what new and worse leprosy of shameful
thanklessness and superstitious ignorance, prevented it ? We do not
know. We only know that of ten who were healed but one returned,
and he was a Samaritan. On the frontiers of the two countries had
been gathered, like froth at the margin of wave and sand, the misery
of both ; * but while the nine Jews were infamously thankless, the
one Samaritan " turned back, and with a loud voice glorified God, and
fell down on his face at His feet, giving Him thanks." The heart
of Jesus, familiar as He was with all ingratitude, was yet moved by
an instance of it so flagrant, so all but unanimous, and so abnormal.
"Were not the ten cleansed?" He asked in sorrowful surprise;
" but the nine — where are they ? 4 There are not found that returned
to give glory to God save this alien." 5 " It is," says Lange, " as if
all these benefits were falling into a deep silent grave." The voice
1 Lev. xiii. 2; xiv. 2. V. supra, p. 221.
2 See the dreadful yet not exaggerated picture drawn by Dr. Thomson, Land
and Book, IV., ch. xliii. ; Delitzsch, Durch Kranklieit zur Genesung, § v. I had
not, however, read either that little tale, or his Ein Tag in Capernaum, till the
whole of this book was written. I mention this because there are some acciden
tal resemblances between my language and that of Dr. Delitzsch.
3 So it is only in the Biut el Masakin (" abodes of the unfortunate "), or lepers'
quarter in Jerusalem, that Jews and Mohammedans will live together.
4 Luke xvii. 17, ovxi oi Ss'xa ixaBapidBrfdav ; oi Si ivvsa, itov ;
" dXXoyEvtji.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 441
of their misery had awaked the instant echo of His mercy ; but the
miraculous utterance of His mercy, though it thrilled through then-
whole physical being, woke no echo of gratitude in their earthy and
still leprous hearts.
But, nevertheless, this alien shall not have returned in vain, nor
shall the rare virtue — alas, how rare a virtue ! ' — of his gratitude go
unrewarded. Not his body alone, but the soul — whose value was
so infinitely more precious, just as its diseases are so infinitely more
profound — should be healed by His Saviour's word.
" Arise and go," said Jesus ; " thy faith hath saved thee."
1 Wordsworth's lines —
"I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds
With coldness still returning,
Alas ! the gratitude of men
Hath oftener left me mourning,"
have been often quoted ; but if he found gratitude a common virtue, his expe
rience must have been exceptional.

56

442 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XLIY.
TEACHINGS OF THE JOtTKNEY.
)fb J'D Wll), " And make a fence for the Law." — Pirke Abhdth, i. 1.
Even during this last journey our Lord did not escape the taunts,
the opposition, the depreciating remarks — in one word, the Phari
saism — of the Pharisees and those who resembled them. The cir
cumstances which irritated them against Him were exactly the same
as they had been throughout His whole career — exactly those in
which His example was most lofty, and His teaching most beneficial
— namely, the performance on the Sabbath of works of mercy, and
the association with publicans and sinners.
One of these sabbatical disputes occurred in a synogogue.1 Jesus,
as we have already remarked, whether because of the lesser excom
munication (the cherem), or for any other reason, seems, during this
latter period of His ministry, to have entered the synagogues but
rarely. The exclusion, however, from one synagogue or more did
not include a prohibition to enter a?iy synagogue ; and the subse
quent conduct of this rdsh hakkeneseth seems to show that he had a
certain awe of Jesus, mingled with his jealousy and suspicion. On
this day there sat among the worshippers a poor woman who, for
eighteen long years, had been bent double ~by "a spirit of infir
mity," and could not lift herself up. The compassionate heart of
Jesus could not brook the mute appeal of her presence. He called
her to Him, and saying to her, " Woman, thou art loosed from thine
infirmity," " laid His hands on her. Instantly she experienced the
miraculous strengthening which enabled her to lift up the long-bowed
and crooked frame, and instantly she broke into utterances of grati
tude to God. But her strain of thanksgiving was interrupted by the
narrow and ignorant indignation of the ruler of the synagogue.
Here, under his very eyes, and without any reference to the " little
brief authority " which gave him a sense of dignity on each recurring

1 Luke xiii. 10—17.
• Luke xiii. 12, ditoXiXvdai.wi The perfect implies the instantaneousness and
permanence of the result.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 443
Sabbath , a woman — a member of his congregation — had actually
had the presumption to be healed. Armed with his favorite " texts,"
and in all the fussiness of official hypocrisy, he gets up and rebukes
the perfectly innocent multitude, telling them it was a gross instance
of Sabbath-breaking for them to be healed on that sacred day, when
they might just as well be healed on any of the other six days of the
week. That the offence consisted solely in the being healed is clear,
for he certainly could not mean that, if they had any sickness, it was
a crime for them to come to the synagogue at all on the Sabbath day.
Now, as the poor woman does not seem to have spoken one word of
entreaty to Jesus, or even to have called His attention to her case,
the utterly senseless address of this man could only by any possibility
mean either " You sick people must not come to the synagogue at
all on the Sabbath under present circumstances, for fear you should
be led into Sabbath-breaking by having a miraculous cure performed
upon you ; " or " If any one wants to heal you on a Sabbath, you
must decline." And these remarks he has neither the courage to
address to Jesus Himself, nor the candor to address to the poor healed
woman, but preaches at them both by rebuking the multitude, who
had no concern in the action at all, beyond the fact that they had
been passive spectators of it !
The whole range of the Gospels does not supply any other instance
of an interference so illogical, or a stupidity so hopeless ; and the
indirect, underhand way in which he gave vent to his outraged igno
rance brought on him that expression of our Lord's indignation which
he had not dared openly to brave. "Hypocrite ! " was the one crush
ing word with which Jesus addressed him. This silly official had
been censorious with Him because He had spoken a few words to
the woman, and laid upon her a healing hand ; and with the woman
because, having been bent double, she lifted herself up and glorified
God ! It would be difficult to imagirie such a paralysis of the moral
sense, if we did not daily see the stultifying effect produced upon the
intellect by the " deep slumber of a decided opinion," especially when
the opinion itself rests upon nothing better than a meaningless tradi
tion. Now Jesus constantly varied the arguments and appeals by
which He endeavored to show the Pharisees of His nation that their
views about the Sabbath only degraded it from a divine benefit
into a revolting bondage.1 To the Rabbis of Jerusalem He justified
1 It is a curious but instructive fact that the Jews of Palestine to this day
greatly resemble their Pharisaic predecessors. " I have no heart," says Dr. Thom
son, "to dwell on their absurd superstitions, their intense fanaticism, or their

444 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Himself by an appeal to His own character and authority, as sup
ported by the triple testimony of John the Baptist, of the Scrip
tures, and of the Father Himself, who bore witness to Him by the
authority which He had given Him.1 To the Pharisees of Galilee He
had quoted the direct precedents of Scripture," or had addressed an
appeal, founded on their own common sense and power of insight
into the eternal principles of things.3 But the duller and less prac
tised intellect of these Perseans might not have understood either
the essential love and liberty implied by the institution of the Sab
bath, or the paramount authority of Jesus as Lord of the Sabbath.
It could not rise above the cogency of the argumentum ad hominem.
It was only capable of a conviction based on their own common
practices and received limitations. There was not one of them
who did not consider himself justified in unloosing and leading to the
water his ox or his ass on the Sabbath,4 although that involved far
more labor than either laying the hand on a sick woman, or even
being healed by a miraculous word ! If their Sabbath rules gave
way to the needs of ox or ass, ought they not to give way to the
cruel necessities of a daughter of Abraham ? If they might do much
more labor on the Sabbath to abbreviate a few hours' thirst, might
not He do much less to terminate a Satanically cruel bondage which
social and domestic institutions and manners, comprising an incredible and gro
tesque melange of filth and finery, Pharisaic self-righteousness and Sadducean
licentiousness. The following is a specimen of the puerilities enjoined and
enforced by their learned Rabbis : — A Jew must not carry on the Sabbath even so
much as a pocket-handkerchief, except within the walls of the city. If there are no
walls it follows, according to their perverse logic, that he must not carry it at all 1
To avoid this difficulty, here in Safed, they resort to what is called eruv. Poles are
set up at the ends of the streets, and strings stretched from the one to the other.
This string represents a wall, and a conscientious Jew may carry his handkerchief
anywhere within these strings. I was once amused by a devout Israelite who was
walking with me on his Sabbath. When we came to the end of the street the
string was gone, and so by another fiction he was at liberty to go on without ref
erence to what was in his pocket, because he had not passed the wall. The last
time I was here they had abandoned this absurdity, probably to avoid the con
stant ridicule it brought upon them" (Thomson, Land and Book, II., ch. xix.).
What a commentary on the kind of Sabbatarianism which Christ combated ! For
abundant further instances, which descend into details not only puerile but dis
gusting, see Buxtorf, Syn. Jud., capp. xiv. — xvi.
1 John v. 17—47, supra, p. 291.
2 Luke vi. 3—5, supra, p. 333.
3 Luke vi. 9, supra, p. 335.
4 It might, moreover, as they were well aware, have been avoided altogether if
their Oriental laziness, and want of real earnestness, had not prevented them from
rendering such tasks unnecessary by procuring a supply of water overnight. But
this kind of letter-worship must of its very nature be purely artificial.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. ' 445
had lasted, lo ! these eighteen years ? At reasonings so unanswerable,
no wonder that His adversaries were ashamed, and that the simpler,
more unsophisticated people rejoiced at all the glorious acts of mercy
which He wrought on their behalf.1
Again and again was our Lord thus obliged to redeem this great
primeval institution of God's love from these narrow, formal, perni
cious restrictions of an otiose and unintelligent tradition. But it is
evident that He attached as much importance to the noble and loving
freedom of the day of rest as they did to the stupefying inaction to
which they had reduced the normal character of its observance.
Their absorbing attachment to it, the frenzy " which filled them
when He set at naught their Sabbatarian uncharities, rose from many
circumstances. They were wedded to the religious system which had
long prevailed among them, because it is easy to be a slave to the
letter, and difficult to enter into the spirit ; easy to obey a number of
outward rules, difficult to enter intelligently and self-sacrificingly into
the will of God ; easy to entangle the soul in a network of petty
observances, difficult to yield the obedience of an enlightened heart ;
easy to be haughtily exclusive, difficult to be humbly spiritual ; easy
to be an ascetic or a formalist, difficult to be pure, and loving, and
wise, and free ; easy to be a Pharisee, difficult to be a disciple ; very
easy to embrace a self -satisfying and sanctimonious system of rabbin
ical observances, very difficult to love God with all the heart, and all
the might, and all the soul, and all the strength. In laying His axe
at the root of their proud and ignorant Sabbatarianism, He was lay
ing His axe at the root of all that " miserable micrology " which they
had been accustomed to take for their religious fife. Is the spirit of
the sects so free in these days from Pharisaic taint as not to need
such lessons? Will not these very words which I have written —
1 They might say, If she has been bound these eighteen years, surely she might
wait yet one day longer ! But that very circumstance He makes an argument for
the contrary, for he who loves his neighbor as himself would rather say, Not one
moment longer must she suffer, if help can be* afforded her ! Could it \>e forbidden
thus to help ? The " ought not " of verse 16 catechetically answers, with infinite
condescension, the inconsiderate, proud, and unintelligent " ought " of verse 14.
" Men ought " was the theme there ; so now the " ought " is abundantly returned ;
" ought not she, according to the law of love, which specially ordains God's works
for the Sabbath, as man's labor for the remaining days, to be loosed from this
misery 1 " (Stier, iv. 51.)
2 Luke vi. 11, iitXr/dBrjdav dvoiai.106 The attachment to the Sabbath was not
all religious ; it was due in part to the obstinate conservatism of an exclusive
nationality, and as such it even attracted heathen notice (Ovid, Ars Amat. i. 415,
Juv. Sat. xiv. 98—100).

446 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
although they are but an expansion of the lessons which Jesus inces
santly taught — yet give offence to some who read them?
One more such incident is recorded — the sixth embittered contro
versy of the kind in which they had involved our Lord.' Nothing
but Sabbatarianism which had degenerated into monomania could
account for their so frequently courting a controversy which always
ended in their total discomfiture. On a certain Sabbath, which was
the principal day for Jewish entertainments," Jesus was invited to
the house of one who, as he is called a ruler of the Pharisees, must
have been a man in high position, and perhaps even a member of
the Sanhedrin. The invitation was one of those to which he was so
often subjected, not respectful or generous, but due either to idle
curiosity or downright malice. Throughout the meal He was care
fully watched by hostile scrutiny. The Pharisees, as has been well
said, "performed the duty of religious espionage with exemplary
diligence." 3 Among the -unbidden guests who, Oriental fashion,
stood about the room and looked on, as they do to this day during
the continuance of a meal, was a man afflicted with the dropsy. The
prominent position in which he stood, combined with the keen
watchfulness of the Pharisees, seems to show that he had been placed
designedly, either" to test Christ's willingness to respect their Sabbath
prejudices, or to defeat His miraculous power by the failure to cure
a disease more inveterate, and less amenable to curative measures,
than any other. If so, this was another of those miserable cases in
which these unfeeling teachers of the people were ready to make the
most heart-rending shame or the deepest misery a mere tool to be
used or thrown aside, as chance might serve, in then dealings with
Jesus. But this time Jesus anticipated, and went to meet half way
the subtle machinations of this learned and distinguished company.
He asked them the very simple question —
1 Luke xiv. 1 — 6. The others were the healing at Bethesda (John v. 10, p. 289):
the scene in the corn-field (Mark ii. 23, p. 331); the healing of the withered
hand (Matt. xii. 10, p. 334), of the blind man at Siloam (John ix. 14, supr., p. 420),
and of the paralytic woman (Luke xiii. 14, supr., p. 442).
2 Neh. viii. 9 — 12. No cooking was done (Exod. xvi. 23) ; but, as those feasts
must have necessitated more or less labor, the fact shows how little real earnest
ness there was in the Jewish Sabbatarianism ; how fast and loose they could
play with their own convictions ; how physical self-indulgence and unintelligent
routine had usurped the place of spiritual enlightenment. On the contrary, there
was no inconsistency whatever in our Lord's accepting such invitations ; there was
nothing wrong in them, and nothing out of accordance with true principles ; and
therefore Jesus could sanction them with His presence. But had there been any
true principle involved in the Jewish view, they ought to have thought them wrong.
3 Bruce, Training of the Twelve, p. 27. Luke xiv. 1 — 6.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 447
" Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day ? "
They would not say "Yes;" but, on the other hand, they dared
not say " No ! " Had it been unlawful, it was their positive function
and duty to say so then and there, and without any subterfuge to
deprive the poor sufferer, so far as in them lay, of the miraculous
mercy which was prepared for him, and to brave the consequences.
H they dared not say so — either for fear of the people, or for fear
of instant refutation, or because the spell of Christ's awful ascendancy
was upon them, or out of a mere splenetic pride, or — to imagine
better motives — because in their inmost hearts, if any spot remained
in them uncrusted by idle and irreligious prejudices, they felt that
it was lawful, and more than lawful, eight — then, by their own
judgment, they left Jesus free to heal without the possibility of cen
sure. Their silence, therefore, was, even on their own showing, and
on their own principles, His entire justification. His mere simple
question, and their inability to answer it, was an absolute decision of
the controversy in His favor. He therefore took the man, healed
him, and let him go.
And then He appealed, as before, to their own practice, " Which
of you shall have a son,1 or (even) an ox, fallen into a pit, and will
not straightway pull him out on the Sabbath day ? " They knew
that they could only admit the fact, and then the argument a fortiori
was irresistible ; a man was more important than a beast ; the extri
cation of a beast involved more labor by far than the healing of a
man. Their base little plot only ended in the constrained and awk
ward silence of a complete refutation which they were too ungenerous
to acknowledge.
Jesus deigned no farther to dwell on a subject which to the mind
of every candid listener had been set at rest for ever, and He turned
their thoughts to other lessons. The dropsy of their inflated self-
satisfaction was a disease far more difficult to heal than that of the
sufferer whom they had used to entrap Him. Scarcely was the feast
ready, when there arose among the distinguished company one of
those unseemly struggles for precedence which — common, nay,
1 It seems certain that vidi, not ovoi, is the true reading in Luke xiv. 5 ; an
immense preponderance of the best MSS. (A, B, and ten uncials) and versions (the
Syriac, Persian, Sahidic, &c.) is in its favor ; the apparent strangeness of the col
location is removed by certain Rabbinic parallels — e. g., Babha Kama, 5, 6 (quoted
by Sepp). There can be no question that the Jews had always theoretically
admitted, and acted on, the very principle which our Lord asserts ; and they do
so to this day — e. g. , the Jews of Tiberias, with all their Sabbatarianism, bathe
often on the Sabbath.

448 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
almost universal as they are — show the tendencies of human nature
on its weakest and most contemptible side.1 And nothing more
clearly showed the essential hollowness of Pharisaic religion than its
intense pride and self -exaltation. Let one anecdote suffice. The
Bang Jannseus had on one occasion invited several Persian Satraps,
and among the guests asked to meet them was the Rabbi Simeon
Ben Shetaeh. The latter on entering seated himself at table between
the King and Queen. Being asked his reason for such a presumptuous
intrusion, he replied that it was written in the Book of Jesus Ben
Sirach, " Exalt wisdom and she shall exalt thee, and shall make thee
sit among princes." "
The Jews at this period had adopted the system of triclinia from
the Greeks and Romans, and the "chief seat" (npaaroxXiffia) was
the middle seat in the central triclinium. Observing the anxiety of
each guest to secure this place for himself,3 our Lord laid down a
wiser and better principle of social courtesy, which involved the far
deeper lesson of spiritual humility. Just as in earthly society the
pushing, intrusive, self -conceited man must be prepared for many a
strong rebuff, and will find himself often compelled to give place to
modest merit, so in the eternal world, " whosoever exalteth himself
shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted."
Pride, exclusiveness, self-glorification, have no place in the kingdom
of God. Humility is the only passport which can obtain for us an
entrance there. " Humble we must be, if to heaven we go ;
High is the roof there, but the gate is low."
And He proceeded to teach them another lesson, addressed to
some obvious foible in the character of His host.4 Luxury, ostenta
tion, the hope of a return, are not true principles of hospitality. A
richer recompense awaits the kindness bestowed upon the poor than
the adulatory entertainment of the friendly and the rich. In receiving
friends and relatives, do not forget the helpless and the afflicted.5
1 Luke xiv. 7 — 11.
2 Ecclus. xv. 5 ; xxxix. 4 ; cf. Prov. iv. 8. The anecdote is quoted by Sepp,
Leben Jesu, II. iii. 6.
3 Luke xiv. 7, i&Xiyovro, " They were picking out for themselves."
4 Luke xiv. 12—14.
5 Our Lord knew that the conscience of each hearer, even unaided by the ordi
nary idioms of Oriental speech, would rightly understand the bold and sometimes
almost paradoxical form into which He purposely cast His precepts. That the
" call not thy friends " means " call not only thy friends, but also," &c, has been
admitted by all except a few fanatical commentators. Even sceptics have seen
that our Lord's sayings are not to be attacked on methods of interpretation which

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 449
Interested beneficence is nothing in the world but a deceitful selfish
ness. It may be that thou wouldest have won a more eternal bless
ing if that dropsical man had been invited to remain — if those poor
lookers-on were counted among the number of the guests.
At this point one of the guests, perhaps because he thought that
these lessons were disagreeable and severe, interposed a remark which,
under the circumstances, rose very little above the level of a vapid
and misleading platitude.1 He poured upon the troubled waters a
sort of general impersonal aphorism. Instead of profiting by these
Divine lessons, he seemed inclined to rest content with " an indolent
remission of the matter into distant futurity," as though he were
quite sure of that blessedness, of which he seems to have a very poor
and material conception. But our Lord turned his idle poor remark
into a fresh occasion for most memorable teaching. He told them
a parable to show that " to eat bread in the kingdom of heaven "
might involve conditions which those who felt so very sure of doing
it would not be willing to accept. He told them of a king who had
sent out many invitations to a great banquet, but who, when the due
time came,'" was met by general . refusals. One had his estate to
manage, and was positively obliged to go and see a new addition to
it. Another was deep in buying and selling, and all the business it
entailed. A third was so lapped in contented domesticity that his
coming was out of the question. Then the king, rejecting, in his
anger, these disrespectful and dilatory guests, bade his slaves go at
once to the broad and narrow streets, and bring in the poor and
maimed, and lame and blind ; and when that was done, and there still
was room, he sent them to urge in even the houseless wanderers by
the hedges and the roads. The application to all present was obvious.
The worldly heart — whether absorbed in the management of prop
erty, or the acquisition of riches, or the mere sensualisms of con-
would make them repulsive to natural affection no less than to common sense.
See, for other passages which require similar principles of interpretation, Matt.
v. 46, 47 (Luke vi. 32—34) ; ix. 13 ; Luke xiv. 26 (comp. Matt. x. 37) ; John vi. 27 ;
1 Cor. i. 17 ; xv. 10. This is a well-known principle of Hebrew grammar, " Com-
parativus saepe ita circumscribitur, ut alterum et quidem inferius ex duobus
comparatis negetur, alterum affirmetur, cui excellentia tribuenda est"306 (Glass,
Phil. Sacr., p. 468). See Prov. viii. 10; and supr., p. 439. It is of course obvious
to add that the truest kindness and charity to the poor would in these days by no
means consist in merely entertaining them at meals.
1 Luke xiv. 15—24.
2 These customs remain unchanged. The message TefudduM,, el' asha hdder,
" Come, for the supper is ready," may be heard to this day ; and to refuse is a
high insult. (Thomson, Land and Book, I., chap, ix.)
57

450 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
tented comfort — was incompatible with any desire for the true ban
quet of the kingdom of heaven. The Gentile and the Pariah, the
harlot, and the publican, the laborer of the roadside and the beggar of
the streets, these might be there in greater multitudes than the Scribe
with his boasted learning, and the Pharisee with his broad phylactery.
" For I say unto you," he added in His own person, to point the
moral more immediately to their own hearts, " that none of those
men who were called shall taste of my supper." It was the lesson
which He so often pointed. " To be invited is one thing, to accept
the invitation is another. Many are called, but few are chosen.-
Many — as the heathen proverb said — 'Many bear the narthex, but
few feel the inspiring god' (noXXoi roi vapdrjxocpopoi itavpoi Se
re fidjixoi)."
Teachings like these ran throughout _ this entire period of the
Lord's ministry. The parable just recorded was, in its far-sided and
many-reaching significance, a reproof not only to the close exclusive
ness of the Pharisees, but also to their -wordliness and avarice. On
another occasion, when our Lord was mainly teaching His own disci
ples, He told them the parable of the Unjust Steward,1 to show them
the necessity of care and faithfulness, of prudence and wisdom, in so
managing the affairs and interests and possessions of this life as not
1 Luke xvi. 1 — 13. If such immense and needless difficulties had not been
raised about this parable, it would have seemed almost superfluous to say that
the point held up for imitation in the steward is not in his injustice and extrava
gance, but the foresight (cppovipaod, " prudently," not as in the E. V., " wisely ")
with which he anticipated, and the skill with which he provided against, his
ultimate difficulties. It really seems as if commentators were so perplexed by
the parable as hardly to have got beyond Julian's foolish and unworthy criticism,
that it commends and sanctions cheating 1 What can be clearer than the very
simple deductions ? This steward, having been a bad steward, showed diligence,
steady purpose, and clear sagacity in his dishonest plan for extricating himself
from the consequences of past dishonesty : be ye faithful stewards, and show the
same diligence, purpose, sagacity, in subordinating the present and the temporal
to the requirements of the eternal and the future. Just as the steward made him
self friends of the tenants, who, when his income failed, received him into their
houses, so do ye use your wealth — (and time, opportunity, knowledge, is wealth,
as well as money) — for the good of your fellow-men ; that when you leave earth
poor and naked, these fellow-men may welcome you to treasures that never fail.
Such seems to be the meaning of verse 9, which is somewhat difficult. The
lesson is, in fact, the same as in the famous aypacpov Soy pa, " Show your
selves approved money-changers. " The parables of the Unjust Judge and the
Importunate Suitor (dvaiSsia, Luke xi. 8) show quite as clearly as this parable
that the lesson conveyed by a paTable may be enforced, by principles of contrast,
and may involve no commendation of those whose conduct conveys the lesson.
It is very probable that both these parables. were drawn from circumstances which
had recently occurred.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 451
to lose hereafter their heritage of the eternal riches. It was impos
sible — such was the recurrent burden of so many discourses — to be
at once worldly and spiritual ; to be at once the slave of God and the
slave of Mammon. With the supreme and daring paradox which
impressed His divine teaching on the heart and memory of the world,
He urged them to the foresight of a spiritual wisdom by an example
drawn from the foresight of a criminal cleverness.
Although Christ had been speaking in the first instance to the
Apostles, some of the Pharisees seem to have been present and to
have heard Him ; and it is a characteristic fact that this teaching,
more than any other, seems to have kindled their most undisguised
derision. They began to treat Him with the most open and insolent
disdain. And why? Because they were Pharisees, and yet were
fond of money.1 Had not they, then, in their own persons, success
fully solved the problem of "making the best of both worlds?"
Who could doubt their perfect safety for the future? nay, the abso
lute certainty that they would be admitted to the " chief seats," the
most distinguished and conspicuous places in the world to come?
Were they not, then, standing witnesses of the absurdity of- the sup
position that the love of money was incompatible with the love of
God? Our Lord's answer to them is very much compressed by St. Luke,"
but consisted, first, in showing them that respectability of life is one
thing, and sincerity of heart quite another. Into the new kingdom,
for which John had prepared the way, the world's lowest were
pressing in, and were being accepted before them ; the Gospel was
being rejected by them, though it was not the destruction, but the
highest fulfilment of the Law. Nay — such seems to be the mean-
1 Luke xvi. 14, i^EpvxrifpiZov avrov?m The vice of avarice seems inherent
in the Jewish race. To this day, says Dr. Thomson, speaking of the Jews in
Palestine, " Everybody trades, speculates, cheats. The shepherd-boy on- the
mountain talks of piastres from morning till night ; so does the muleteer on the
road, the farmer in the field, the artisan in the shop, the merchant in his magazine,
the pacha in his palace, the kadi in the hall of j udgment, the mullah in the mosque,
the monk, the priest, the bishop — money, money, money I the desire of every
heart, the theme of every tongue, the end of every aim. Everything is bought
and sold — each prayer has its price, each sin its tariff." (II. ch. xxvii.) — Quar
rels about the money, complaints of the greed and embezzlement of the Rabbis,
wrong distribution of the chaluka, or alms, and the kadima, or honorary pay,
form the main history of the Jews in modern Jerusalem. It is a profoundly mel
ancholy tale, and no one who knows the facts will deny it — least of all pious and
worthy Jews. ( Vide Frankl, Jews in the East, passim.)
2 Luke xvi. 15 — 18.

452 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ing of the apparently disconnected verse which follows " — even to
the Law itself, of which not one tittle " should fail, they were faith
less, for they could connive at the violation of its most distinct pro
visions. In this apparently isolated remark He alluded, in all proba
bility, to their relations to Herod Antipas, whom they were content
to acknowledge and to flatter, and to whom not one of them had
dared to use the brave language of reproach which had been used by
John the Baptist, although, by the clearest decisions of the Law
which they professed to venerate, his divorce from the daughter of
Aretas was adulterous, and his marriage with Herodias was doubly
adulterous, and worse.
But to make the immediate truth which He had been explaining
yet more clear to them, He told them the parable of the Rich Man
and Lazarus.3 Like all of our Lord's parables, it is full of meaning,
and admits of more than one application ; but at least they could not
miss the one plain and obvious application, that the decision of the
next world will often reverse the estimation wherein men are held
in this ; that God is no respecter of persons ; that the heart must
make its choice between the "good things" of this life and those
which the externals of this life do not affect. And what may be
1 Cf. Luke vii. 29 ; xv. 1 ; Matt. xi. 12, 13. This is Luther's interpretation, and
seems to be the correct one, though Stier does not think it worthy of refutation.
2 " Tittle," xepaia (Luke xvi. 17) ; i. e., the smallest turn or stroke of a letter,
like the minute points which distinguish 2 from 3 (Orig., ad Ps. xxxiii.). (Wet
stein.) — This is one of Christ's expressions which receive interesting illustration
from the Rabbis. In Jer. Sanhedr., f, 20, the Book of Deuteronomy prostrates
itself before God, and complains that Solomon has robbed it of the letter jod (in
the letter nasMm) by taking many wives. God answers that Solomon shall perish,
but not the letter jod. R. Honna said that the jod which God took from the name
Saral He divided in half, giving half to Abraham, half to SaraA (because n (h) =
5, i (yod) = 10), &c. (Gfrorer, i. 236.)
3 It is a curious, but perhaps accidental, coincidence that in this parable alone is
any name given ; as also Lazarus is the only recipient — with the exception of
Bartimseus — of our Lord's miracles who is distinctly named. Perhaps there may
be some reference intended to names written in heaven, but forgotten on earth,
and blazoned on earth, but unrecorded in heaven (comp. the irdcpr/ of verse 22
with the silence about the burial of Lazarus). The name Lazarus, however [either
"P., *b, Lo ezer (Chald. La) (?), " Not help," dfioijBriroi (Theophyl.), or better, "Vffi ,!™,
Eli ezer," God my help "], is particularly appropriate. Herberger, quoted bv Stier,
says, " We have in this parable a veritable window opened into hell, through
which we can see what passes there." But inferences of this kind must be very
cautiously pressed. It is a wise and well-established rule, that " Theologia para-
bolica non est demonstrativa." 308 Some see in " the five brethren " a reference to
the five sons of Annas (Jos. Antt. xx. 9, § 1) — an entirely questionable allusion
(Sepp, Leben Jesu, II. vi. 11). Some very ingenious speculations on the subject of
Lazarus may be seen in Prof. Plumtre's Lazarus and other Poems (note).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 453
called the epilogue of this parable contains a lesson more solemn
still — namely, that the means of grace which God's mercy accords
to every living soul are ample for its enlightenment and deliverance;
that if these be neglected, no miracle will be wrought to startle the
absorbed soul from its worldly interests; that "if they hear not
Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one
rose from the dead." Auditu fideli salvamur, says Bengel, non
apparitionibus — "We are saved by faithful hearing, not by ghosts."
This constant reference to life as a thne of probation, and to the
Great Judgment, when the one word "Come," or "Depart," as
uttered by the Judge, should decide all controversies and all questions
for ever, naturally turned the thoughts of many listeners to these sol
emn subjects. But there is a great and constant tendency in the
minds of us all to refer such questions to the case of others rather
than our own — to make them questions rather of speculative curios
ity than of practical import. And such tendencies, which rob moral
teaching of all its wholesomeness, and turn its warnings into mere
excuses for uncharity, were always checked and discouraged by our
Lord. A special opportunity was given Him for this on one occasion
during those days in which He was going " through the cities and
villages, teaching, and journeying toward Jerusalem." ' He had —
not, perhaps, for the first time — been speaking of the small begi li
nings and the vast growth of the kingdom of heaven alike in the
soul and in the world; and one of His listeners, in the spirit of
unwise though not unnatural curiosity, asked Him, " Lord, are there
few that be saved ? " Whether the question was dictated by secure
self-satisfaction, or by despondent pity, we cannot tell ; but in either
case our Lord's answer involved a disapproval of the inquiry, and a
statement of the wholly different manner in which such questions
should be approached. "Few" or "many" are relative terms.
Waste not the precious opportunities of life in idle wonderment, but
strive. Through that narrow gate, none — not were they a thousand
times of the seed of Abraham — can enter without earnest effort.
And since the efforts, the wilful efforts, the erring efforts of many
fail — since the day will come when the door shall be shut, and it
shall be forever too late to enter there — since no impassioned appeal
shall then admit, no claim of olden knowledge shall then be recog
nized — since some of those in their spiritual pride thought that they
best knew the Lord, shall hear the awful repudiation, " I know you
not " — strive ye to be of those that enter in. For many shall enter

Luke xiii. 22— 30 ; Matt. xiii. 31, 32 ; Mark iv. 30, 31.

454 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
from every quarter of the globe, and yet thou, O son of Abraham,
mayest be excluded. And behold, once more — it may well sound
strange to thee,1 yet so it is — " there are last which shall be first,
and there are first which shall be last." "
Thus each vapid interruption, each scornful criticism, each errone
ous question, each sad or happy incident, was made by Jesus, through
out this journey, an opportunity for teaching to His hearers, and
through them to all the world, the things that belonged unto their
peace. And He did so once more, when " a certain lawyer " stood
up tempting Him, and asked — not to obtain guidance, but to find
subject for objection — the momentous question, " What must I do to
obtain eternal life ? " Jesus, seeing through the evil motive of his
question, simply asked him what was the answer to that question
which was given in the Law which it was the very object of the man's
life to teach and to explain. The lawyer gave the best summary
which the best teaching of his nation had by this time rendered
prevalent. Jesus simply confirmed his answer, and said, " This do,
and thou shalt live." But wanting something more than this, and
anxious to justify a question which from his own point of view was
superfluous, and which had, as he well knew, been asked with an
ungenerous purpose, the lawyer thought to cover his retreat by the
fresh question, " And who is my neighbor ? " Had Jesus asked the
man's own opinion on this question, He well knew how narrow and
false it would have been; He therefore answered it Himself, or
rather gave to the lawyer the means for answering it, by one of His
most striking parables. He told him how once a man, going down
the rocky gorge which led from Jerusalem to Jericho, had fallen into
the hands of the robbers, whose frequent attacks had given to that
descent the ill-omened name of " the bloody way," and had been left
by these Bedawin marauders, after the fashion which they still
practise, bleeding, naked, and half dead upon the road. A priest
going back to his priestly city had passed that way, caught a glimpse
of him, and crossed over to the other side of the road. A Levite,
with still cooler indifference, had come and stared at him, and quietly

1 Such is the general significance of xai iSov in the Gospels. It is used twenty
ihree times in St. Matthew, sixteen in St. Luke, but not in St. Mark.
2 Dante, in his Inferno, has finely expanded this truth : —
" He in the world was one
For arrogance noted ; to his memory
No virtue lent its lustre. . . . There above
How many hold themselves for mighty kinjrs
Who here, like swine, shall wallow in the mire.
Leaving behind them horrible dispraise."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 455
done the same. But a Samaritan journeying that way — one on
whom he would have looked with shuddering national antipathy, one
in whose very shadow he would have seen pollution — a good Samari
tan, pattern of that Divine Speaker whom men rejected and despised,
but who had come to stanch those bleeding wounds of humanity, for
which there was no remedy either in the ceremonial or the moral law
— came to him, pitied, tended him, mounted him on his own beast,
trudged beside him on the hard, hot, dusty, dangerous road, and would
not leave him till he had secured his safety, and generously provided
for his future wants. Which of these three, Jesus asked the lawyer,
was neighbor to him who fell among thieves ? The man was not so
dull as to refuse to see ; but yet, knowing that he would have excluded
alike the Samaritans and the Gentiles from his definition of " neigh
bors," he has not the candor to say at once, " The Samaritan" but
uses the poor periphrasis, " He that did him the kindness."" " Go,"
said Jesus, " and do thou likewise." I, the friend of publicans and
sinners, hold up the example of this Samaritan to thee.1
We must not, however, suppose that these two months of mission-
progress were all occupied in teaching which, however exalted,
received its external shape and impulse from the errors and con
troversies which met the Saviour on His way. There were many
circumstances during these days which must have filled His soul with
joy- Pre-eminent among these was the return of the Seventy." We
cannot, of course, suppose that they returned in a body, but that
from time to time, two and two, as our Lord approached the various
cities and villages whither He had sent them, they came to give Him
an account of their success. And that success was such as to fill
their simple hearts with astonishment and exultation. " Lord," they
exclaimed, " even the devils are subject unto us through Thy name."
Though He had given them no special commission to heal demoniacs,
though in one conspicuous instance even the Apostles had failed in
this attempt, yet now they could cast out devils in their Master's
name. Jesus, while entering into their joy, yet checked the tone of
over-exultation, and rather turned it into a nobler and holier channel.
He bade them feel sure that good was eternally mightier' than evil ;
and that the victory over Satan — his fall like lightning from heaven
— had been achieved and should continue for ever. Over all evil
influences He gave them authority and victory, and the word of
His promise should be an amulet to protect them from every source
1 Luke x. 25—37. 2 Luke x. 17—20.

456 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
of harm. They should go upon the lion and adder, the young
lion and the dragon should they tread under feet ; ' because He had
set His love upon them, therefore would He deliver them : He would
set them up because they had known His name. And yet there was
a subject of joy more deep and real and true — less dangerous because
less seemingly personal and conspicuous than this — on which He
rather fixed their thoughts : it was that their names had been written,
and stood unobliterated," in the Book of Life in heaven.
And besides the gladness inspired into the heart of Jesus by the
happy faith and unbounded hope of His disciples, He also rejoiced
in spirit that, though rejected and despised by Scribes and Pharisees,
He was loved and worshipped by Publicans and Sinners. The poor
to whom He preached His Gospel — the blind whose eyes He had
come to open — the sick whom He had come to heal — the lost whom
it was His mission to seek and save, — these all thronged with heartfelt
and pathetic gratitude to the Good Shepherd, the Great Physician.
The Scribes and Pharisees as usual murmured,3 but what mattered
that to the happy listeners ? To the weary and heavy-laden He spoke
in every varied form of hope, of blessing, of encouragement. By the
parable of the Importunate Widow He taught them the duty of faith,
and the certain answer to ceaseless and earnest prayer.4 By the par
able of the haughty, respectable, fasting, alms-giving, self-satisfied
Pharisee — who, going to make his boast to God in the Temple,
went home less justified than the poor Publican, who could only reit
erate one single cry for God's mercy as he stood there beating his
breast, and with downcast eyes — He taught them that God loves
better a penitent humility than a merely external service, and that a
broken heart and a contrite spirit were sacrifices which He would not
despise.6 Nor was this all. He made them feel that they were dear
to God ; that, though erring children, they were His children still.
1 Ps. xci. 13, 14. Wetstein shows that Christ here adopted a familiar metaphor,
found also in the Rabbis.
2 iyyiypaitrai (Luke x. 20 ; Rev. xx. 12, 15). See Clemens, Ep. ad Cor. xiv.,
with Dr. Lightfoot's note,
3 Luke xv. 1, 2. This is the third instance in which this self-righteous exclusive
ness is rebuked. The first was at the house of Simon the Pharisee (Luke vii. 39 ;
see p. 238) ; the second at Matthew's feast (Matt. ix. 11 ; p. 271) ; and the same
thing occurred again in the case of Zacchaeus (Luke xix. 7). In each of these
instances Jesus with a deep irony " argued with his accusers on their own prem
ises, accepting their estimate of themselves and of the class with whom they
deemed it discreditable to associate, as righteous and sinful respectively." (Bruce,
Training of the Twelve, p. 28.)
4 Luke xviii. 1 — 8.
6 Luke xviii. 9 — 14.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 457
And, therefore, to the parables of the Lost Sheep and the Lost
Drachma, He added that parable in which lies the whole Gospel in its
richest and tenderest grace — the Parable of the Prodigal Son.
Never certainly in human language was so much — such a world
of love and wisdom and tenderness — compressed into such few
immortal words.1 Every line, every touch of the picture is full of
beautiful, eternal significance. The poor boy's presumptuous claim for
all that life could give him — the leaving of the old home — the
journey to a far country — the brief spasm of " enjoyment " there —
the mighty famine in that land — the premature exhaustion of all
that could make life noble and endurable — the abysmal degradation
and unutterable misery that followed — the coming to himself, and
recollection of all that he had left behind — the return in heart-broken
penitence and deep humility ¦ — the father's far-off sight of him, and
the gush of compassion and tenderness over this poor returning prod
igal — the ringing joy of the whole household over him who had been
loved and lost, and had now come home — the unjust jealousy and
mean complaint of the elder brother — and then that close of the
parable in a strain of music — " Son, thou art ever with me, and all
that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and
be glad : for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again y was
lost, and is found" — allthis is indeed a divine epitome of the wan
dering of man and the love of God such as no literature has ever
equalled, such as no ear of man has ever heard elsewhere. Put in
the one scale all that Confucius, or Sakya Mouni, or Zoroaster, or
Socrates ever wrote or said — and they wrote and said many beauti
ful and holy words — and put in the other the Parable of the Prod
igal Son alone, with all that this single parable connotes and means,
and can any candid spirit doubt which scale would outweigh the other
in eternal preciousness — in divine adaptation to the wants of man?
So this great journey grew gradually to a close. The awful solem
nity — the shadow, as it were, of coming doom — the half -uttered
" too late " which might be dimly heard in its tones of warning —
characterize the single record of it which the Evangelist St. Luke has
happily preserved." We seem to hear throughout it an undertone
' I have already touched on this parable (supra, pp 325, 326) ; but a few more
words on the subject will perhaps be pardoned here.
2 As the main events and teaching .of this episode in St. Luke (ix. 51 — xviii. 14)
are not recorded by the other Synoptists, and as the narratives of the three meet
again at Luke xviii. 15 ; Matt. xix. 13 ; Mark x. 13, it is a natural and reasonable
supposition that the things narrated beyond that point belong to a time subsequent
to the journey. We can, of course, only conjecture why St. Luke is almost our
58

458 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
of that deep yearning which Jesus had before expressed — " I have a
baptism to be baptized with ; and how am I straitened until it be
accomplished ! " It was a sorrow for all the broken peace and angry
opposition which His work would cause on earth — a sense that He
was prepared to plunge into the " willing agony " of the already kin
dled flame.1 And this seems to have struck the minds of all who
heard Him ; they had an expectation, fearful or glad according to
the condition of their consciences, of something great. Some new
manifestation — some revelation of the thoughts of men's hearts —
was near at hand. At last the Pharisees summoned up courage to
ask Him "when the kingdom of God should come?" " There was
a certain impatience, a certain materialism, possibly also a tinge of
sarcasm and depreciation in the question, as though they bad said,
" When- is all this preaching and preparation to end, and the actual
time to arrive ? " His answer, as usual, indicated that their point
of view was wholly mistaken. The coming of the kingdom of God
could not be ascertained by the kind of narrow and curious watchmg 3
to which they were addicted. False Christs and mistaken Rabbis
might cry " Lo here ! " and " Lo there ! " but that kingdom was
already in the midst of them ; 4 nay, if they had the will and the
wisdom to recognize and to embrace it, that kingdom was within
them. That answer was sufficient to the Pharisees, but to His disci
ples He added words which implied the fuller explanation. Even
they did not fully realize that the kingdom had already come.
Their eyes were strained forward in intense and yearning eagerness
to some glorious future; but in the future, glorious as it would be,
they would still look backward with yet deeper yearning, not unmin-
gled with regret, to this very past — to these days of the Son of
Man, in which they were seeing and their hands handling the Word
of Life. In those days, let them not be deceived by any " Lo there !
Lo here ! " nor let them waste in feverish and fruitless restlessness
the calm and golden opportunities of life.6 For that coming of the
sole authority for this period of two months ; it is, however, possible that both
St. Matthew and St. Peter (who was the informant of St. Mark) were but little
with Jesus at this time, and were themselves engaged in a mission similar to that
of the Seventy.
1 Luke xii. 49—53.
2 Luke xvii. 20—37.
8 Luke xvii. 20, itaparijptfdii. Cf. xiv. 1.
4 That ivrdi vpwv may have this meaning is proved by the passage of Xeno-
phon (Anab. i. 10, 3) cited by Alford ; but the other meaning is probably included
Cf. Rom. xiv. 17 ; John i. 26 ; xii. 35, &c. ; and Deut. xxx. 14.
s See 2 Thess. passim.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 459
Son of Man should be bright, sudden, terrible, universal, irresistible
as the lightning flash ; but before that day Pie must suffer and be
rejected. Moreover, that gleam of His second advent would flame
upon the midnight of a sensual, unexpectant world, as the flood rolled
over the festive sensualism in the days of Noah, and the fire and
brimstone streamed from heaven upon the glittering rottenness of the
Cities of the Plain. Woe to those who should in that day be casting
regretful glances on a world destined to pass away in flame! For
though till then the business and companionships of life should con
tinue, and all its various fellowships of toil or friendliness, that night
would be one of fearful and of final separations !
The disciples were startled and terrified by words of such strange
solemnity. " Where, Lord ? " they ask in alarm. But to the " where "
there could be as fittle answer as to the " when," and the . coming
of God's kingdom is as fittle geographical as it is chronological.1
" Wheresoever the body is," He says, "thither will the vultures be
gathered together."" The mystic Armageddon is no place whose
situation you may fix by latitude and longitude. Wherever there is
individual wickedness, wherever there is social degeneracy, wherever
there is deep national corruption, thither do the eagle-avengers of
the Divine vengeance wing their flight from far : thither from the
ends of the earth come nations of a fierce countenance, " swift as the
eagle flieth," to rend and to devour. " Her young ones also suck up
blood: and where the slain are, there is she."3 Jerusalem — nay,
the whole Jewish nation — was falling rapidly into the dissolution
rising from internal decay ; and already the flap of avenging pinions
was in the air. When the world too should lie in a state of morbid
infamy, then should be heard once more the rushing of those " con
gregated wings."
Is not all history one long vast commentary on these great prophe
cies? In the destinies of .nations and of races has not the Christ
returned again and again to deliver or to judge ?
1 See Stier, iv. 287.
2 The Jews, and indeed the ancients generally, classed the vulture with the
eagle. I cannot believe the interpretation of Chrysostom, Theophylactus, &c, that
the " body " is Christ, and the gathering eagles are His saints. All that cau be
said for this view may be seen in Bishop Wordsworth on Matt. xxiv. 28 ; but a
reference to Job. xxxix. 30, " Her young ones also suck up blood ; and wJiere the
slain are, tliere is she," seems alone sufficient to refute it.
3 Deut. xxviii. 49 ; Job. xxxix. 30. Cf. Hab. i. 8, " They shall fly as the eagle
that hasteth to eat ; " Hos. viii. 1, " Set the trumpet to thy mouth. He shall fly
as an eagle against the house of the Lord, because they have transgressed my
covenant, and trespassed against my law." In fact, the best commentary to the
metaphor will be found in Rev. xix. 17 — 21.

460 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XLY.
THE FEAST OP DEDICATION.
Thrice blessed whose lives are faithful prayers,
Whose loves in higher love endure ;
What souls possess themselves so pure,
Or is there blessedness like theirs ? — Tennysoh.
Nowhere, in all probability, did Jesus pass more restful and happy
hours than in the quiet house of that little family at Bethany, which,
as we are told by St. John, " He loved." The family, so far as we
know, consisted only of Martha, Mary, and their brother Lazarus.
That Martha was a widow — that her husband was, or had been,
Simon the Leper — that Lazarus is identical with the gentle and holy
Rabbi of that name mentioned in the Talmud — are conjectures that
may or may not be true ; l but we see from the Gospels that they
were a family in easy circumstances, and of sufficient dignity and posi
tion to excite considerable attention not only in their own little village
of Bethany, but even in Jerusalem. The lonely little hamlet, lying
among its peaceful uplands, near Jerusalem, and yet completely
hidden from it by the summit of Olivet, and thus
" Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite
Beyond it,"
must always have had for the soul of Jesus an especial charm ; and
the more so because of the friends whose love and reverence always
placed at His disposal their holy and happy home. It is there that
we find Him on the eve of the Feast of the Dedication, which marked
the close of that public journey designed for the full and final procla
mation of His coming kingdom."
It was natural that there should be some stir in the little household
at the coming of such a Guest, and Martha, the busy, eager-hearted,
affectionate hostess, " on hospitable thoughts intent," hurried to and
1 Peah, f. 21, 2, quoted by Sepp, iii. 8.
2 St. Luke, as Stier observes, may have anticipated the true order of this anec
dote in order to let it throw light on the question of the lawyer, " What must I
do f " (See Luke x. 25, 38—42.) This, if correct, is a good illustration of the sub
jective considerations which seem to dominate in this episode of his Gospel.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 461
fro with excited energy to prepare for His proper entertainment.
Hei sister Mary, too, was anxious to receive Him fittingly,1 but her
notions of the reverence due to Him were of a different kind. Know
ing that her sister was only too happy to do all that could be done
for His material comfort, she, in deep humility, sat at His feet and
listened to His words.
Mary was not to blame, for her sister evidently enjoyed the task
which she had chosen of providing as best she could for the claims of
hospitality, and was quite able, without any assistance, to do every
thing that was required. Nor was Martha to blame for her active
service ; her sole fault was that, in this outward activity, she lost the
necessary equilibrium of an inward calm. As she toiled and planned
to serve Him, a little touch of jealousy disturbed her peace a* she saw
her quiet sister sitting — "idly" she may ha\-e thought — at the feet
of then great Yisitor, and leaving the trouble to fall on her. If she
had taken time to think, she could not but have acknowledged that
there may have been as much of consideration as of selfishness in
Mary's withdrawal into the background in their domestic administra
tion ; but to be just and noble-minded is always difficult, nor is it even
possible when any one meanness, such as petty jealousy, is suffered
to intrude. So, in the first blush of her vexation, Martha, instead of
gently asking her sister to help her, if help, indeed, were needed —
an appeal which, if we judge of Mary aright, she would instantly
have heard — she almost impatiently, and not quite reverently, hur
ries in," and asks Jesus if He really did not care to see her sister sit
ting there with her hands before her, while she was left single-handed
to do all the work. Would He not tell her (Martha could not have
fairly added that common piece of ill-nature, " It is of no use for me
to tell her ") to go and help ? •
An imperfect soul, seeing what is good and great and true, but
very often failing in the attempt to attain to it, is apt to be very
hard in its judgments on the shortcomings of others. But a divine
and sovereign soul — a soul that has more nearly attained to the
measure of the stature of the perfect man — takes a calmer and
gentler, because a larger-hearted view of those little weaknesses and
indirectnesses which it cannot but daily see. And so the answer of
Jesus, if it were a reproof, was at any rate an infinitely gentle and
tender one, and one which would purify but would not pain the poor

1 Luke x. 39, rj xai itapaxaBidada . . f/xovEv.
2 Such seems to be the force of iitidrada iu St. Luke, who almost alone uses
the word [xx. 1 (cf. ii. 38) ; Acts xxiii. 27 (cf. 1 Thess. v. 8)J.

462 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
faithful heart of the busy, loving matron to whom it was addressed.
" Martha, Martha," so He said — and as we hear that most natural
address may we not imagine the half -sad, half -playful, but wholly kind
and healing smile which lightened His face ? — " thou art anxious
and bustling about many things, whereas but one thing is needful ; '
but Mary chose for herself the good part, which shall not be taken
away from her." There is none of that exaltation here of the con
templative over the active life which Roman Catholic writers have
seen in the passage, and on which they are so fond of dwelling.
Either may be necessary, both must be combined. Paul, as has well
been said, in his most fervent activity, had yet the contemplativeness
and inward calm of Mary ; and John, with the most rapt spirit of
contemplation, could yet practise the activity of Martha. Jesus did
not mean to reprobate, any amount of work undertaken in His ser
vice, but only the spirit of fret and fuss - — the want of all repose and
calm — the ostentation of superfluous hospitality — in doing it; and
still more that tendency to reprobate and interfere with others, which
is so often seen in Christians who are as anxious as Martha, but have
none of Mary's holy trustfulness and perfect calm.
It is likely that Bethany was the home of Jesus during His visits
to Jerusalem, and from it a short and delightful walk over the Mount
of Olives would take Him to the Temple. It was now winter-time,
and the Feast of the Dedication was being celebrated." This feast
was held on the 25th of Cisleu, and, according to Wieseler, fell this
year on Dec. 20. It was founded by Judas Maccabseus in honor of
the cleansing of the Temple in the 'year B. C. 164, six years and a
half after its fearful profanation by Antiochus Epiphanes. Like
the Passover and' the Tabernacles, it lasted eight days, and was
kept with great rejoicing.3 Besides its Greek name of Encsenia, it
had the name of rd cpdota, or the Lights, and one feature of the
1 The pepipvai alludes to her inward solicitude, the rvpjid^y to her outward
f ussiness ; in fact, if we may adopt such colloquial terms, " fretting " and " fussing "
would exactly represent the two words. The various readings, oXiyaov 8s idn
Xpsia, dXiy gov Si idn xpsia rj kvoi 309 (X, B, L, the Coptic, &c), might have
risen from the notion that at any rate more than one thing would be required for
the meal ; but in point of fact an Eastern meal usually consist's of one common
dish. Altogether, it seems clear that the first and obvious meaning — as was so
customary with our Lord — was meant to involve the high and spiritual meaning.
Perhaps the oXiymv (supported by the consensus of N and B) may have been
omitted in some MSS., from a desire to enforce this spiritual lesson.
2 John x. 22. Called by the Jews Ohanukkah.
3 Some account of these events may be seen in 1 Mace. iv. 52 — 59; 2 Mace. x. 1  8.
" They decked the fore-front of the Temple with crowns of gold and with shields"
i Jos. Antt. xii. 7, §7)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 463
festivity was a general illumination to celebrate the legendary mira
cle of a miraculous multiplication, for eight days, of the holy oil
which had been found by Judas Maccabseus in one single jar sealed
with the High Priest's seal.1 Our Lord's presence at such a festival
sanctions the right of each Church to ordain its own rites and cere
monies, and shows that He looked with no disapproval on the joyous
enthusiasm of national patriotism.
The eastern porch of the Temple still retained the name of Solo
mon's Porch, because it was at least built of the materials which had
formed part of the ancient Temple." Here, in this bright colonnade,
decked for the feast with glittering trophies, Jesus was walking up and
down, quietly, and apparently without companions, sometimes, perhaps,
gazing across the valley of the Kidron at the whited sepulchres of the
prophets, whom generations of Jews had slain, and enjoying the mild
winter sunlight, when, as though by a preconcerted movement, the
Pharisaic party and their leaders suddenly surrounded 3 and began to
question Him. Perhaps the very spot where He was walking, recallr
ing as it did the memories of their ancient glory — perhaps the
memories of the glad feast which they were celebrating, as the anni
versary of a splendid deliverance wrought by a handful of brave men
who had overthrown a colossal tyranny — inspired their ardent appeal.
" How long," they impatiently inquired, " dost thou hold our souls
in painful suspense? If thou really art the Messiah, tell us with
confidence. Tell us here, in Solomon's Porch, now, while the sight
of these shields and golden crowns, and the melody of these citherns
and cymbals, recall the glory of Judas the Asmonsean — wilt thou be
a mightier Maccabseus, a more glorious Solomon ? shall these citrons,
and fair boughs, and palms, which we carry in honor of this day's
victory, be carried some day for thee ? " 4 It was a strange, impetu
ous, impatient appeal, and is full of significance. It forms their own
strong condemnation, for it shows distinctly that He had spoken
words and done deeds which would have justified and substantiated
' Shabbath, 21 b ; Rosh-hashanah, 24 6 (Derenbourg, Hist. Pal. 62 ; Jos. Antt. xii.
7, 55 7). The eight days had in reality been necessary for the work to be done.
Perhaps Pers. Sat. v. 180 seqq. are a description of the Chanukkah, though called
by mistake "Herodis dies " (Id. 165). See a good account of the Feast by Dr.
Ginsburg, in Kitto's Bibl. Cycl. i. 653.
2 Jos. Antt. xx. 9, § 7. That the actual porch, in its original state, had been left
Standing, is wholly improbable.
3 John x. 24, i x v x X go d a v ovv avrov (cf. Luke sxi. 20 ; Heb. xi. 30)
xai e X e y o v.
4 2 Mace. x. 7. These lulabim assimilated the feast still more closely to the
Feast of Tabernacles.

464 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
such a claim had He chosen definitely to assert it. And if He had
in so many words asserted it — above all, had He asserted it in the
sense and with the objects which they required — it is probable that
they would have instantly welcomed Him with tumultuous acclaim.
The place where they were speaking recalled the most gorgeous
dreams of their ancient monarchy ; the occasion was rife with the
heroic memories of one of their bravest and most successful warriors ;
the political conditions which surrounded them were exactly such as
those from which the noble Asmonsean had delivered them. One
spark of that ancient flame would have kindled their inflammable
spirits into such a blaze of irresistible fanaticism as might for the
time have swept away both the Romans and the Herods, but which —
since the hour of their fall had already begun to strike, and the cup
of their iniquity was already full — ¦ would only have antedated by
many years the total destruction which fell upon them, first when
they were slain by myriads at the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus,
and afterwards when the false Messiah, Bar-Cochebas, and his fol
lowers were so frightfully exterminated at the capture of Bethyr.
But the day for political deliverances was past ; the day for a higher,
deeper, wider, more eternal deliverance had come. For the former
they yearned, the latter they rejected. Passionate to claim in Jesus
an exclusive temporal Messiah, they repelled Him with hatred as the
Son of God, the Saviour of the world. That He was their Messiah
in a sense far loftier and more spiritual than they had ever dreamed,
His language had again and again implied ; but the Messiah in the
sense which they required He was not, and would not be. And
therefore He does not mislead them by saying, " I am your Messiah,"
but He refers them to that repeated teaching, which showed how
clearly such had been His claim, and to the works which bore witness
to that claim.1 Had they been sheep of His flock — - and He here
reminds them of that great discourse which He had delivered at the
Feast of Tabernacles two months before — they would have heard
His voice, and then He would have given them eternal life, and they
would have been safe in His keeping ; for no one would then have
been able to pluck them out of His Father's hand, and he added
solemnly, " I and my Father are one."
His meaning was quite unmistakable. In these words He was
claiming not only to be Messiah, but to be Divine. Had the oneness
with the Father .which He claimed been nothing more than that sub
jective union of faith and obedience which exists between all holy
1 See John v. and viii. passim.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 465
souls and their Creator — His words could have given no more
offence than many a saying of their own kings and prophets ; but
" ecce Judaei intellexerunt quod non intelligunt Ariani ! " 31° —
they saw at once that the words meant infinitely more. Instantly
they stooped to seize some of the scattered heavy stones x which the
unfinished Temple buildings supplied to their fury, and, had His
hour been come, He could not have escaped the tumultuary death
which afterwards befell His proto-martyr. But His undisturbed
majesty disarmed them with a word : " Many good deeds did I show
you from my Father : for which of these do ye mean to stone me ? " "
Not for any good deed, they replied, "but for blasphemy, and
because thou, being a mere man,3 art making thyself God." The
reply of Jesus is one of those broad gleams of illumination whichlHe
often sheds on the interpretation of the Scriptures: "Does itlaot
stand written in your Law," He asked them, " ' I said, Ye are gods ? ' 4
If. he called them gods (Elohim) to whom the Word of God came —
and such undeniably is the case in your own Scriptures — do ye (say
to Him whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world, ' Thou
blasphemest,' because I said, ' I am the Son of God ? ' " And He
appealed to His life and to His works, as undeniable proofs of His
unity with the Father. H His sinlessness and His miracles were- not
a proof that He could not be the presumptuous blasphemer whom
they wished to stone — what further proof could be given? They,
nursed in the strictest monotheism, and accustomed only to think of
God as infinitely far from man, might have learnt even from the
Law and from the Prophets that God is near — is in the very mouth
and in the very heart — of those who love Him, and even bestows
upon them some indwelling brightness of His own eternal glory.
Might not this be a sign to them, that He who came to fulfil the Law
and put a loftier Law in its place — He to whom all the prophets
had witnessed — He for whom John had prepared the way — He who
spake as never man spake — He who did the works which none other
man had ever done since the foundation of the world — He who had
ratified all His words, and given significance to all His deeds, by the
blameless beauty of an absolutely stainless life — was indeed speaking
the truth when He said that He was one with the Father, and that
He was the Son of God ?
The appeal was irresistible. They dared not stone Him ; bnt, as
1 John x. 31, iftddradav. The word in John viii. 59 is vpav.
8 John x. 32, XiBd&TE.
3 dvBpooitoi (ver. 33). See Lev. xxiv. 10—16.
4 Ps. lxxxii. 6.
59

466 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
He was alone and defenceless in the midst of them, they tried to
seize Him. But they could not. His presence overawed them.
They could only make a passage for Him, and glare their hatred upon
Him as He passed from among them. But once more, here was a
clear sign that all teaching among them was impossible. He could
as little descend to their notions of a Messiah, as they could rise to
His. To stay among them was but daily to imperil His life in vain.
Judaea, therefore, was closed to Him, as Galilee was closed to Him.
There seemed to be one district only which was safe for Him in His
native land, and that was Persea, the district beyond the Jordan. He
retired, therefore, to the other Bethany — the Bethany beyond Jor
dan, where John had once been baptizing — and there He stayed.
What were the incidents of this last stay, or the exact length of its
continuance, we do not know. We see, however, that it was not
exactly private, for St. John tells us that many resorted to Him
there,1 and believed on Him, and bore witness that John — whom
they held to be a Prophet, though he had done no miracle — had
borne emphatic witness to Jesus in that very place, and that all which
He had witnessed was true.
1 John x. 41, 42. For Bethany, v. supra, p. 127.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 4g7

CHAPTER XLVL
THE LAST STAY IN PER.EA.
" At evening time it shall be light." — Zech. xiv. 7.
Wherever the ministry of Jesus was in the slightest degree public,
there we invariably find the Pharisees watching, lying in wait for
Him, tempting Him, trying to entrap Him into some mistaken judg
ment or ruinous decision. But perhaps even their malignity never
framed a question to which the answer was so beset with difficulties
as when they came to " tempt " Him with the problem, " Is it lawful
for a man to put away his wife for every cause ? " '
The question was beset with difficulties on every side, and for many
reasons. In the first place, the institution of Moses on the subject
was ambiguously expressed. Then this had given rise to a decided
opposition of opinion between the two most important and flourish
ing of the rabbinic schools. The difference of the schools had resulted
in a difference in the customs of the nation. Lastly the theological,
scholastic, ethical, and national difficulties were further complicated
by political ones, for the prince in whose domain the question was
asked was deeply interested in the answer, and had already put to
death the greatest of the prophets for his bold expression of the view
which was most hostile to his own practice. Whatever the truckling
Rabbis of Galilee might do, St. John the Baptist, at least, had left
no shadow of a doubt as to what was his interpretation of the Law of
Moses, and he had paid the penalty of his frankness with his life.
Moses had laid down the rule that when a man had married a
wife, and "she find no favor in his eyes because he hath found
some uncleanness (marg., ' matter of nakedness,' Heb. i?} rvnj*,
ervath dabhar) in her, then let him write a bill of divorcement, and
give it in her hand, and send her out of his house. And when she
is departed out of his house, she may go and be another man's wife." "
Now in the interpretation of this rule, everything depended on the
1 Matt. xix. 3—12 ; Mark x. 2—12.
* Deut. xxiv. 1, 2. Literally, ervath dabhar is " nakedness of a matter " (blosse
im, irgend etwas). (Ewald, Hebr. Gram., § 286, f.)

468 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
meaning of the expression ervath dabhar, or rather on the meaning
of the single word ervath. It meant, generally, a stain or desecra
tion, and Hillel, with his school, explained the passage in the sense
that a man might " divorce his wife for any disgust which he felt
towards her ; " ' even — as the celebrated R. Akiba ventured to say
— if he saw any other woman who pleased him more ; " whereas the
school of Shammai interpreted it to mean that divorce could only
take place in cases of scandalous unchastity. Hence the Jews had
the proverb that in this matter, as in so many others, " Hillel loosed
what Shammai bound."
Shammai was morally right and exegetically wrong ; Hillel exe-
getically right and morally wrong. Shammai was only right in so
far as he saw that the spirit of the Mosaic legislation made no divorce
justifiable inforo conscientiae,11" except for the most flagrant im
morality ; Hillel only right in so far as he saw that Moses had left
an opening for divorce inforo civili 314 in slighter cases than these.
But under such circumstances, to decide in favor of either school
would not only be to give mortal offence to the other, but also either
to exasperate the lax many, or to disgust the high-minded few. For
in those corrupt days the vast majority acted at any rate on the prin
ciple laid down by Hillel, as the Jews in the East continue to do to
this day. Such, in fact, was the universal tendency of the times.
In the heathen, and especially in the Roman world, the strictness of
the marriage bond had been so shamefully relaxed, that, whereas, in
the Republic, centuries had passed before there had been one single
instance of a frivolous divorce, under the Empire, on the contrary,
divorce was the rule, and faithfulness the exception. The days of
the Yirginias, and Lucretias, and Cornelias had passed ; this was the
age of the Julias, the Poppaeas, the Messalinas, the Agrippinas —
1 The xard itddav airiav 3U of Matt. xix. 3 is a translation of the -un hi hy
(al cdl dabhar), which was Hillel's exposition of the disputed passage. (See Bux-
torf , De Syn. Jud. 29.) Almost the identical phrase is found in Jos. Antt. iv. 8,,
§ 23, xaB' di Srjitorovv atriai.*" Cf. Ecclus. xxv. 26, " If she go not as thou
wouldest have her, cut her off from thy flesh."
2 The comments of the Rabbis were even more shameful : e. g., " If she spin in
public, go with her head uncovered," &c. ; " Even if she have oversalted his soup "
(Gittin, 90) (Selden, De Ux. Heb. iii. 17). This, however, is explained away by
modern commentators (Jost, Gesch. Jud. 264). Yet it is not surprising that it led
to detestable consequences. Thus we are told in Bab. Jdmah, 1. 18, 2, that Rabbi
Nachman7 whenever he went to stay at a town for a short time, openly sent round
the crier for » wife during his abode there (Lightfoot, Hor. Heb. in Loc). See
Excursus III., "Jesus and Hillel;" and Excursus IX., "Hypocrisy of the Phari
sees."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 469
the days in which, as Seneca says, women no longer reckoned their
years by the consuls, but by the number of their repudiated husbands.
The Jews had caught up the shameful precedent, and since polygamy
had fallen into discredit, they made a near approach to it by the ease
with which they were able to dismiss one wife and take another.1
Even Josephus, a Pharisee of the Pharisees, who on every possible
occasion prominently lays claim to the character and. position of a
devout and religious man, narrates, without the shadow of an apology,
that his first wife had abandoned him, that he had divorced the
second after she had borne him three children, and that he was then
married to a third. But if Jesus decided in favor of Shammai — as
all His previous teaching made the Pharisees feel sure that in this
particular question He would decide — then He would be pronounc
ing the public opinion that Herod Antipas was a double-dyed adul
terer, an adulterer adulterously wedded to an adulterous wife.
But Jesus was never guided in any of His answers by principles
of. expediency, and was decidedly indifferent alike to the anger of
multitudes and to the tyrant's frown. His only object was to give,
even to such inquirers as these, such answers as should elevate them
to a nobler sphere. Their axiom, " Is it lawful f " had it been sin
cere, would have involved the answer to their own question. Noth
ing is lawful to any man who doubts its lawfulness. Jesus, therefore,
instead of answering them, directs them to the source where the true
answer was to be found. Setting the primitive order side by side
with the Mosaic institution — meeting their "is it lawful?" with
" Have ye not read ? " — He reminds them that God, who at the
beginning had made man male and female, had thereby signified His
will that marriage should be the closest and most indissoluble of all
relationships " — transcending and even, if necessary, superseding all
the rest.
" Why, then," they ask — eager to entangle Him in an opposition
to " the fiery law " — " did Moses command to give a writing of
divorcement and put her away?" The form of their question
involved one of those false turns so common among the worshippers

1 Divorce is still very common among the Eastern Jews ; in 1856 there were
sixteen cases of divorce among the small Jewish population of Jerusalem. In fact,
a Jew may divorce his wife at any time and for any cause, he being himself the
sole judge ; the only hindrance is that, to prevent divorces in a mere sudden fit.
of spleen, the bill of divorce must have the concurrence of three Rabbis, and be
written on ruled vellum, containing neither more nor less than twelve lines ; and
it must be given in the presence of ten witnesses. (Allen's Mod. Judaism, p. 428.)
2 Gen. ii. 24. " They two " is in the LXX., but not in the Hebrew.

470 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
of the letter ; and on this false turn they based their inverted pyramid
of yet falser inferences. And so Jesus at once corrected them : " Moses,
indeed, for your hardheartedness permitted you to put away your
wives ; but from the beginning it was not so ; " and then he adds as
formal and fearless a condemnation of Herod Antipas — without
naming him — as could have been put in language, " Whoever put-
teth away his wife and marrieth another, except for fornication, com-
mitteth adultery ; and he who marrieth the divorced woman commit-
teth adultery : " ' and Herod's case was the worst conceivable instance
of both forms of adultery, for he, while married to an innocent and
undivorced wife, had wedded the guilty but still undivorced wife of
Herod Philip, his own brother and host; and he had done this,
without the shadow of any excuse, out of mere guilty passion, when
his own prime of life and that of his paramour was already past.
If the Pharisees chose to make any use of this to bring Jesus into
collision with Antipas, and draw down upon Him the fate of John,
they might ; and if they chose to embitter still more against Him
the schools of Hillel and of Shammai, both of which were thus shown
to be mistaken — that of Hillel from deficiency of moral insight,
that of Shammai from lack of exegetical acumen — they might ; but
meanwhile He had once more thrown a flood of light, over the diffi
culties of the Mosaic legislation, showing that it was provisional, not
final — transitory, not eternal. That which the Jews, following their
famous Hillel, regarded as a Divine permission of which to be proud,
was, on the contrary, a tolerated evil permitted to the outward life,
though not to the enlightened conscience or the pure heart — was, in
fact, a standing witness against their hard and imperfect state."
The Pharisees, baffled, perplexed, ashamed as usual, found them
selves again confronted by a transcendently loftier wisdom, and a
transcendently diviner insight than their own, and retired to hatch
fresh plots equally malicious, and destined to be equally futile. But
nothing can more fully show the necessity of Christ's teaching than
the fact that even the disciples were startled and depressed by it. In
this bad age, when corruption was so universal — when in Rome
marriage had fallen into such contempt and desuetude that a law had
to be passed which rendered celibates liable to a fine — they thought
1 It appears from St. Matthew that Jesus uttered this precept to the Pharisees,
as well as confided it afterwards to His disciples. See Matt. xix. 9 ; Mark x. 11
(vide supra, p. 452).
2 See Deut. x. 16 ; Isa. xlviii. 4 ; Ezek. iii. 7, &c. And yet, according to Geiger
and a host of imitators, Jesus was a Rabbi of the school of Hillel, and taught
nothing original 1 (See Excursus III.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 471
the pure strictness of our Lord's precept so severe that celibacy itself
seemed preferable ; and this opinion they expressed when they were
once more with Him in the house. What a fatal blow would have
been given to the world's happiness and the world's morality, had
He assented to their rash conclusion ! And how marvellous a proof
is it of His Divinity, that whereas every other pre-eminent moral
teacher — even the very best and greatest of all — has uttered or
sanctioned more than one dangerous and deadly error which has
been potent to poison the fife or peace of nations — all the words of
the Lord Jesus were absolutely holy, and divinely healthy words.
In His reply He gives none of that entire preference to celibacy
which would have been so highly valued by the ascetic and the
monk, and would -have troubled the consciences of many millions
whose union has been blessed by heaven.1 He refused to pronounce
upon the condition of the celibate so absolute a sanction. All that
He said was that this saying of theirs as to the undesirability of
marriage had no such unqualified bearing ; that it was impossible and
undesirable for all but the rare and exceptional few. Some, indeed,
there were who were unfitted for holy wedlock by the circumstances
of their birth or constitution ; " some, again, by the infamous, though
then common, cruelties and atrocities of the domhiant slavery ; and
some who withdrew themselves from all thoughts of marriage for
religious purposes, or in consequence of higher necessities. These
were not better than others, but only different. It was the duty of
some to marry and serve God in the wedded state ; it might be the
duty of others not to marry, and so to serve God in the celibate state."
There is not in these words of Christ all that amount of difficulty and
confusion which some have seen in them. His precepts find their
best comment in the 7th and 9th chapters of the First Epistle to the
1 Consider the pernicious influence exercised over millions of Buddhists to this
day by Sakya Mouni's exaltation of ascetic celibacy 1
2 Matt. xix. 10 — 12. The Rabbis similarly distinguished between three sorts of
evvovxoi — the seris chammah ("of the sun," or " of nature"), the seris adam
(per homines), and the seris bidi shamayim (of God). The passages of the Rabbis,
quoted by Schottgen in loc, show that the metaphorical sense given to the third
class is justified, and that the Jews applied it to any who practised moderate
abstinence. ' It is well known that Origen, the'most allegorizing of commentators, unhappily
took this verse literally : other passages of Christ's teaching might have shown
him that such an offence against the order and constitution of Providence was no
protection against sensual sin ; and indeed this great and holy man lived to see
and to confess that in this matter he had been nobly mistaken — nobly, because
the error of the intellect was combined with the most fervid impulses of a self-
sacrificing heart.

472 THE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
Corinthians, and His clear meaning is that, besides the rare instances
of natural incapacity for marriage, there are a few others — and to
these few alone the saying of the disciples applied — who could accept
the belief that in peculiar times, or owing to special circumstances,
or at the paramount call of exceptional duties, wedlock must by
them be rightly and wisely foregone, because they had received from
God the gift and grace of continence, the power of a chaste life,
resulting from an imagination purified and ennobled to a. particular
service. And then, like a touching and beautiful comment on these high
words, and the strongest of all proofs that there was in the mind of
Christ no admiration for the " voluntary service " which St. Paul
condemns, and the "works of supererogation" which an erring
Church upholds — as a proof of His belief that marriage is honorable
in all, and the bed undefiled — He took part in a scene that has
charmed the imagination of poet and painter in every age. For as
though to destroy all false and unnatural notions of the exceptional
glory of religious virginity, He, among whose earliest acts it had been
to bless a marriage festival, made it one of His latest acts to fondle
infants in His arms. It seems to have been known in Persea that
the time of His departure was approaching ; and conscious, perhaps,
of the words which He had just been uttering, there were fathers
and mothers and friends who brought to Him the fruits of Holy
wedlock — young children and even babes : — that He might touch
them and pray over them. Ere He left them for ever, they would
bid Him a solemn farewell ; they would win, as it were, the legacy of
His special blessing for the generation yet to come. The disciples
thought their conduct forward and officious." They did not wish
their Master to be needlessly crowded and troubled ; they did not
like to be disturbed in their high colloquies. They were indignant
that a number of mere women and children should come obtruding
on more important persons and interests. Women were not hon
ored, nor children loved in antiquity as now they are ; no halo of
romance and tenderness encircled them ; too often they were sub
jected to shameful cruelties and hard neglect. But He who came to
be the friend of all sinners, and the helper of all the suffering
and the sick, came also to elevate woman to her due honor, cen
turies before the Teutonic element of modern society was dreamt
1 Matt. xix. 13, itaiSia ; Luke xviii. 15, rd /SpEcpij, " their babes."
2 Comp. the haughty repulsion of the Shunamite woman by Gehazi (2 Kings iv.
27).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 473
of,1 and to be the protector and friend of helpless infancy and innocent
childhood. Even the unconscious little ones were to be admitted into
His Church by His sacrament of baptism, to be made members of
Him, and inheritors of His kingdom. He turned the rebuke of the dis
ciples on themselves ; He was as much displeased with them, as they
had been with the parents and children. " Suffer the little children,"
He said, in words which each of the Synoptists has preserved for us
in all their immortal tenderness — " Suffer the little children to come
unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven."
And when He had folded them in His arms, -laid His hands upon
them, and blessed them, He added once more His constantly needed,
and therefore constantly repeated, warning, " Whosoever shall not re
ceive the kingdom of heaven as a little child, shall not enter therein." "
When this beautiful and deeply instructive scene was over, St.
Matthew tells us that He started on His way, probably for that new
journey to the other Bethany of which we shall hear in the next
chapter ; and on this road occurred another incident, which impressed
itself so deeply on the minds of the spectators that it, too, has been
recorded by the Evangelists in a triple narrative.
A young man of great wealth and high position seems suddenly '
to have been seized with a conviction that he had hitherto neglected
an invaluable opportunity, and that One who could alone explain to
him the true meaning and mystery of life was already on his way to
depart from among them. Determined, therefore, not to be too late,
he came running, breathless, eager — • in a way that surprised all who
beheld it — and, prostrating himself before the feet of Jesus, ex
claimed, " Good Master, what good thing shall I do that I may inherit
life?"3 If there was something attractive in the mingled impetuosity and
humility of one so young and distinguished, yet so candid and ear
nest, there was in his question much that was objectionable. The
notion that* he could gain eternal life by " doing some good thing,"
rested on a basis radically false. If we may combine what seems to be
the true reading of St. Matthew, with the ' answer recorded in the
other Evangelists, our Lord seems to have said to him, " Why askest
1 Whereas the Essenian celibacy rose distinctly out of contempt for and distrust
of woman (Jos. B. J. ii. 8, § 2, rdi tgov yvvaixmv ddsXysiai qwXaddopEvoi 3]5),
The author of Ecclesiasticus speaks in the harshest tone of women,
5 Comp. Mark. ix. 35 ; Luke xxii. 26 ; Matt. xx. 26, 27 ; xxiii. 11.
3 For similar questions put to Rabbis, see Wetstein, ad loc. The dyaBi in
Matt. xix. 16 is omitted by a, B, D, L, &c, but it is found in Mark and Luke ; the
dyaBov in Matthew is undoubted, and perhaps the variation of readings is
partly accounted for by the use of the word twice.
60

474 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
thou me about the good ? ' and why callest thou me good ? One is
the good, even God." He would as little accept the title " Good,"
as He would accept the title " Messiah," when given in a false sense.
He would not be regarded as that mere " good Rabbi," to which, in
these days, more than ever, men would reduce Him. So far, Jesus
would show the youth that when he came to Him as to one who was
more than man, his entire address, as well as his entire question, was
a mistake. No mere man can lay any other foundation than that
which is laid, and if the ruler committed the error of simply admir
ing Jesus as a Rabbi of pre-eminent sanctity, yet no Rabbi, however
saintly, was accustomed to receive the title of " good," or prescribe
any amulet for the preservation of a virtuous life. And in the same
spirit, He continued : " But if thou wilt enter into life, keep the
commandments." The youth had not expected a reply so obvious and so simple. He
cannot believe that He is merely referred to the Ten Command
ments, and so He asks, in surprise, " What sort of commandments ? "
Jesus, as the youth wanted to do something, tells him merely of those
of the Second Table, for, as has been well remarked, " Christ sends
the proud to the Law, and invites the humble to the Gospel."
" Master," replied the young man in surprise, " all these have I
observed from my youth." " Doubtless in the mere letter he may
have done so, as millions have ; but he evidently knew little of all
that those commandments had been interpreted by the Christ to
mean. And Jesus, seeing his sincerity, looking on him loved him,'
and gave him one short crucial test of his real condition. He was
not content with the common-place ; he aspired after the heroical, or
1 The reading ri ps ipGorai itspi rov dyaBov,U6 in Matt. xix. 17, seems
undoubtedly the right reading (K, B, D, L; &c, the Cureton Syriac, and some of
the chief Fathers). It springs naturally from the form of the young man's ques
tion ; and it has certainly not been altered from doctrinal reasons, for there is no
various reading in Mark x. 18 ; Luke xviii. 19. It is remarkable that the title
" good Rabbi " was utterly unknown to the Jews, and does not occur once in the
Talmud (Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. ad loc). There was, therefore, an obvious impro
priety in the use of it by the young ruler from his point of view. The emphasis
of our Lord's question falls on " good," not on " me ; " for in the latter case it
would be ipi, not ps (Meyer).
2 When the Angel of Death came to fetch the R. Chanina, he said, " Go and fetch
me the Book of the Law, and see whether there is anything in it which I have not
kept" (Gfrorer, ii. 102; Philo, i. 400).
3 ijyditTjdEV (Mark x. 21). The word means " esteemed," and the aorist makes
it mean " was pleased with." Origen says, " Dilexit eum, vel osculatus est eum ; " 3"
and it was the custom of the Rabbis to kiss the head of any pupil who had
answered well ; but this would require icpiXr/dE, not r/yaitijds.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 475
rather thought that he did ; therefore Jesus gave him an heroic act
to do. " One thing," He said, " thou lackest," and bade him go, sell
all that he had, distribute it to the poor, and come and follow Him.
It was too much. The young ruler went away very sorrowful,
grief in his heart, and a cloud upon his brow,1 for he had great pos
sessions. He preferred the comforts of earth to the treasures of
heaven ; he would not purchase the things of eternity by abandon
ing those of time ; he made, as Dante calls it, " the great refusal."
And so he vanishes from the Gospel history ; nor do the Evangelists
know anything of him farther. But the sad stern imagination of the
poet follows him, and there, among the myriads of those who are
blown about like autumn leaves on the confines of the other world,
blindly following the flutter of a giddy flag, rejected by Heaven,
despised even by hell, hateful alike to God and to his enemies, he sees
" l'ombra di colui
Che fece per viltate il gran rifiuto," * 318
(The shade of him, who made through cowardice the great refusal.)
We may — I had almost said we must — hope and believe a fairer
ending for one whom Jesus, as He looked on him, could love. But
the failure of this youth to meet the test saddened Jesus, and looking
round at His disciples, He said, " How hardly shall they that have
riches enter into the kingdom of heaven." The words once more
struck them as very severe. Could then no good man be rich, no
rich man be good ? But Jesus only answered — softening the sad
ness and sternness of the words by the affectionate title "chil
dren" — "Children, how hard it is to enter into the kingdom of
God ; " " hard for any one, but, He added, with an earnest look at
His disciples, and specially addressing Peter, as the Gospel according
1 Xvitovpsvoi (Matt. xix. 22) ; drvyvadai (Mark x. 22 ; cf. Matt. xvi. 3) ;
itepiXvitoi (Luke xviii. 23).
* Dante, Inferno, iii. 60.
11 Incontanente intesi, e certo fui
Che quest' era la setta dei cattivi
A Dio spiacenti ed a' nemici sui." 3I9
This application of Dante's reference seems to me more probable than that he
intended Pope Celestine.
a It will be seen that I follow the very striking and probably genuine reading of
X, B, D, and other MSS. in Mark x. 24. The words rovi itsitoiBdrai Eiti
Xpijpadi,310 which our version accepts, have all the character of a gloss ; and for
those who "trust in riches" the task would not be SvdxoXov, but dSvvarov.
It is of course true that it is the trust in riches, not the possession of them, which
makes it so hard to enter into the kingdom of God ; but even such a mean and
miserable scoffer as Lucian could see that there is always a danger lest those who
have ridhes should trust in them.

476 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
to the Hebrews tells us, " It is easier for a camel to go through the
eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of
God." ' They might well be amazed beyond measure. Was there
then no hope for a Nicodemus, for a Joseph of A.rimathsea ? Assur
edly there was. The teaching of Jesus about riches was as little
Ebionite as His teaching about marriage was Essene. Things
impossible to nature are possible to grace ; things impossible to man
are easy to God.
Then, with a touch — was it of complacency, or was it of de
spair? — Peter said, "Lo, we have forsaken all, and followed thee,"
and either added, or implied, In what respect, then, shall we be
gainers ? The answer of Jesus was at once a magnificent encourage
ment and a solemn warning. The encouragement was that there
was no instance of self-sacrifice which would not even in this world,
and even in the midst of persecutions, receive its hundred-fold
increase in the harvest of spiritual blessings," and would in the world
to come be rewarded by the infinite recompense of eternal life; the
warning was that familiar one which they had heard before, that
many of the first should be last, and the last first." And to impress
upon them still more fully and deeply that the kingdom of heaven is
not a matter of mercenary calculation or exact equivalent — that
there could be no bargaining with the Heavenly Householder — ' that
before the eye of God's clearer and more penetrating judgment
Gentiles might be admitted before Jews, and Publicans before
Pharisees, and young converts before aged Apostles — He told them
the memorable Parable of the Laborers in the Yineyard. That
parable, amid its other lessons, involved the truth that, while all who
serve God should not be defrauded of their just and full and rich
reward, there could be in heaven no murmuring, no envyings, no
jealous comparison of respective merits, no base strugglings for pre
cedency, no miserable disputings as to who had performed the
maximum of service, or who had received the minimum of grace.
1 The alteration to xdpiXov, " a rope," is shown to be wrong from the common
ness of similar proverbs (e. g., an elephant and the eye of a needle) in the Talmud,
as adduced by Lightfoot, Schottgen, and Wetstein. The explanation that the
small side gate of a city, through which a laden camel could only crush with the
utmost difficulty, was called a "needle's eye " is more plausible, but seems to need
confirmation. 2 The metaphor of the twelve thrones harmonized with the ideal hopes of the
day. (See Lightfoot, ad loc.) For the Palingenesia (= ' ' restoration of all things,"
ditoxarddradii) see Isa. xiii. 9 ; lxv. 17 ; Rom. viii. 19 ; Rev. xxi. 1, &c. With
the whole passage compare 1 Cor. iii. 22 ; 2 Cor. vi. 10.
3 See 2 Esdr. v. 42.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 477

CHAPTER XLYII.
THE RAISING OP LAZARUS.
tX00 rdi xXeii rov aSov xai rov 8avdrov.m — Apoc. i. 18.
These farewell interviews and teachings perhaps belong to the
two days after Jesus — while still in the Persean Bethany — had
received from the other Bethany, where He had so often found a
home, the solemn message that " he whom He loved was sick." [
Lazarus was the one intimate personal friend whom Jesus possessed
outside the circle of His Apostles, and the urgent message was evi
dently an appeal for the presence of Him in whose presence, so far
as we know, there had never been a death-bed scene.
But Jesus did not come. He contented Himself — occupied as He
was in important works — with sending them the message that " this
sickness was not to death, but for the glory of God," and stayed two
days longer where He was. And at the end of those two days He
said to His disciples, " Let us go into Judaea again." The disciples
reminded Him how lately the Jews had there sought to stone Him,
and asked Him how He could venture to go there again ; but His
answer was that during the twelve hours of His day of work He
could walk in safety, for the light of His duty, which was the will
of His Heavenly Father, would keep Him from danger. And then
He told them that Lazarus slept, and that He was going to wake him
out of sleep. Three of them at least must have remembered how,
on another memorable occasion, He had spoken of death as sleep ;
but either they were silent, and others spoke, or they were too slow
of heart to remember it. As they understood Him to speak of
natural sleep, He had to tell them plainly that Lazarus was dead, and
that He was glad of it for their sakes, for that He would go to restore
him to life. " Let us also go," said the affectionate but ever despond
ent Thomas, "that we may die with Him" — as though he had
said, " It is all a useless and perilous scheme, but still let us go."
1 John xi. 1—46, ov cpiXsii (quern amas), ver. 3. The same word is only used
elsewhere of the love of Jesus for the beloved disciple. Where His love for the
sisters is spoken of, tfydita, " diligebat " (" cared for"), is used (ver. 5). It is,
however, worth noticing that three times out of four the word for even the
beloved disciple is dyaitav, and that here the cpiXsii is not the Evangelist's own
word, but put by him into the mouth of another.

478 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
Starting early in the morning, Jesus could easily have accomplished
the distance — some twenty miles — before sunset. But, on His arri
val, he stayed outside the little village. Its vicinity to Jerusalem,
from which it is not two miles distant,1 and the evident wealth and
position of the family, had attracted a large concourse of distinguished
Jews to console and mourn with the sisters ; and it was obviously
desirable to act with caution in venturing among such determined
enemies. But while Mary, true to her retiring and contemplative
disposition, was sitting in the house, unconscious o£_ her Lord's
approach," the more active Martha had received intelligence that He
was near at hand, and immediately went forth to meet Him. Laza
rus had died on the very day that Jesus received the message of his
illness ; two days had elapsed while He lingered in Persea, a fourth
had been spent on the journey. Martha could not understand this
sad delay. " Lord," she said, in tones gently reproachful, " if Thou
hadst been here my brother had not died," yet " even now " she
seems to indulge the vague hope that some alleviation may be vouch
safed to their bereavement. The few words which follow are words
of most memorable import — a declaration of Jesus which has brought
comfort not to Martha only, but to millions since, and which shall do
to millions more unto the world's end —
" Thy brother shall rise again."
Martha evidently had not dreamt that he would now be awaked
from the sleep. of death, and she could only answer, "I know that he
shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day."
Jesus said unto her, " I am the Resurrection and the life : he
THAT BELIEVETH ON Me, THOUGH HE HAVE DIED, SHALL LIVE; AND
HE THAT LIVETH AND BELIEVETH ON Me SHALL NEVER DIE. BelieV-
est thou this ? "
It was not for a spirit like Martha's to distinguish the interchang
ing thoughts of physical and spiritual death which were united in
that deep utterance ; but, without pausing to fathom it, her faithful
love supplied the answer, " Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art the
Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world."

1 The " was " in John xi. 18 does not necessarily imply that when St. John wrote
the village had been destroyed ; but such was probably the case.
2 It is an interesting incidental proof of the authenticity of the narrative — all
the more valuable from being wholly undesigned — that the characters of Martha
and Mary, as described in a few touches by St. John, exactly harmonize with
their character as they appear in the anecdote preserved only by St. Luke (x. 38 —
42.) (See supra, p. 460.) Those who reject the genuineness of St. John's Gospel
must account (as Meyer says) for this " literary miracle."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 479
Having uttered that great confession, she at once went in quest of
her sister, about whom Jesus had already inquired, and whose heart
and intellect, as Martha seemed instinctively to feel, were better
adapted to embrace such lofty truths. She found Mary in the house,
and both the secrecy with which she delivered her message, and the
haste and silence with which Mary arose to go and meet her Lord,
show that precaution was needed, and that the visit of Jesus had not
been unaccompanied with danger. The Jews who were comforting
her, and whom she had thus suddenly left, rose to follow her to the
tomb, whither they thought that she had gone to weep ; but they
soon saw the real object. of her movement. Outside the village they
found Jesus surrounded by His friends, and they saw Mary hurry up
to Him, and fling herself at His feet with the same agonizing reproach
which her sister also had used, " Lord, if Thou hadst been here my
brother had not died." ' The greater intensity of her emotion spoke
in her fewer words and her greater self-abandonment of anguish,
and she could add no more. It may be that her affection was too deep
to permit her hope to be so sanguine as that of her sister ; it may be
that with humbler reverence she left all to her Lord. The sight of all
that love and misery, the pitiable spectacle of human bereavement,
the utter futility at such a moment of human consolation, the shrill
commingling of a hired and simulated lamentation with all this gen
uine anguish, the unspoken reproach, " Oh, why didst Thou not
come at once and snatch the victim from the enemy, and spare Thy
friend from the sting of death, and us from, the more bitter sting of
such a parting ? " — all these influences touched the tender compassion
of Jesus with deep emotion. A strong effort of self-repression was
needed" — an effort which shook His whole frame with a powerful
shudder 3 — before He could find words to speak, and then He could
1 Martha had said, ovx dv 6 dSsXcpoi pov ersBvrfxei (John xi. 21, but
ditsBavsv, X, B, C, D, &c), " my brother would not have been dead ;" Mary says,
ovx dv pov ditiBavev 6 dSsXcpdi (ver. 32), "my brother [the position of the
pronoun is more emphatic] would not have died."
2 Such seems to be the meaning of ivsfipiprjdaro rap itvsvpan (ver. 33), lit
erally, " He was indignant with himself in spirit." (Cf. Lam. ii. 6, LXX.) I
fully admit, however, the difficulty of the expression, and am not prepared to
deny that it may mean " He was indignant in spirit" (at the want of faith of those
who were present).
3 irapa^sv iavrov. The philosophical fancies which see in this expression a
sanction of the Stoic psriioTtdBsia, as though the meaning were that Jesus
merely stirred His own emotions to the exact extent which He approved, are quite
misplaced. (Comp. John xii. 27 ; xiii. 21.) Euthymius, an excellent ancient com
mentator, explains it as in the text.

480 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
merely ask, " Where have ye laid him ? " They said, " Lord, come and
see." As He followed them His eyes were streaming with silent tears. '
His tears were not unnoticed, and while some of the Jews observed
with respectful sympathy this proof of His affection for the dead,
others were asking dubiously, perhaps almost sneeringly," whether He
who had opened the eyes of the blind could not have saved His
friend from death ? They had not heard how, in the far-off village
of Galilee, He had raised the dead ; but they knew that in Jerusalem
He had opened the eyes of one born blind, and that seemed to them
a miracle no less stupendous. But Jesus knew and heard their com
ments, and once more the whole scene — its genuine sorrows, its
hired mourners, its uncalmed hatreds, all concentrated around the
ghastly work of death — came so powerfully over His spirit, that,
though He knew that He was going to wake the dead, once more
His whole being was swept by a storm of emotion.3 The grave, like
most of the graves belonging to the wealthier Jews, was a recess
carved horizontally in the rock, with a slab or mass of stone to close
the entrance.4 Jesus bade them remove, this gdlal, as it was called.
Then Martha interposed — partly from conviction that the soul had
now utterly departed from the vicinity of the mouldering body,
partly afraid in her natural delicacy of the shocking spectacle which
the removal of that stone would reveal. For in that hot climate it
is necessary that burial should follow immediately upon death,6 and
as it was the evening of the fourth day since Lazarus had died, there
was too much reason to fear that by this time decomposition had set
in. Solemnly Jesus reminded her of His promise, and the stone was
moved from the place where the dead was laid. He stood at the
entrance, and all others shrank a little backward, with their eyes still
fixed on that dark and silent cave. A hush fell upon them all as
1 iSdxpydEv, flevit, " He shed tears ; " not k'xXavdsv ,ploravit, " He wept aloud,"
as over Jerusalem (Luke xix. 41).
2 Verse 37. Alford acutely conjectures the hostile tone of the criticism, from the
use of Si, which St. John very frequently uses in an adversative sense, as again
in verse 46.
3 itdXiv ipfipipoopevoi iv Eavrap"22 (John xi. 38).
4 The village of Bethany is to this day called El-Azariyeh, a corruption of Laza
rus, and a continuous memorial of the miracle. A deep cavity is shown in the
middle of it as the grave of Lazarus. I visited the spot, but with no belief in it :
that El-Azariyeh is the ancient Bethany is certain, but the tomb of Lazarus could
not have been in the centre of it.
6 Frankl mentions that, a few years ago, a Jewish Rabbi dying at Jerusalem at
two o'clock was buried at 4.30. The emphatic remark of Martha may also have
arisen from the belief that after three days the soul ceased to flutter in the neigh
borhood of the body.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 481
Jesus raised His eyes and thanked God for the coming confirmation
of His prayer. And then, raising to its clearest tones that voice of
awful and sonorous authority, and uttering, as was usual with Him
on such occasions, the briefest words, He cried, "Lazarus, come
forth ! " ' Those words thrilled once more through that region of
impenetrable darkness which separates us from the world to come ;
and scarcely were they spoken when, like a spectre, from the rocky
tomb issued a figure, swathed indeed in its white and ghastly cere
ments — with the napkin round the head which had upheld the jaw
that four days previously had dropped in death, bound hand and foot
and face, but not livid, not horrible — the figure of a youth with the
healthy blood of a restored life flowing through his veins ; of a life
restored — so tradition tells us — for thirty more long years " to life,
and light, and love.
Let us pause here to answer the not unnatural question as to the
silence of the Synoptists respecting this great miracle.3 To treat the
subject fully would indeed be to write a long disquisition on the
structure of the Gospels; and after all we could assign no .final
explanation of their obvious difficulties. The Gospels are, of their
very nature, confessedly and designedly fragmentary, and it may be
regarded as all but certain that the first three were mainly derived
from a common oral tradition, or founded on one or two original,
and themselves fragmentary, documents.4 The Synoptists almost
confine themselves to the Galilsean, and St. John to the Judsean min
istry, though the Synoptists distinctly allude to and presuppose the
ministry in Jerusalem, and St. John the ministry in Galilee.6 Not
one of the four Evangelists proposes for a moment to give an exhaust
ive account, or even catalogue, of the parables, discourses, and mir
acles of Jesus ; nor was it the object of either of them to write a
 ._  _  ¦
1 ixpdvyadsv (ver. 43). Comp. Matt. xii. 19 ; John v. 28.
2 Epiphan. Haer. 66. See Hofmann, Leben Jesu, 357.
3 On this question, see especially Meyer, p. 298.
4 Luke i. 1.
6 I ought, perhaps, to have explained the word Synoptists before. It is applied
to the first three Evangelists, because their Gospels can be arranged, section by
section, in a tabular form. Griesbach seems to have been the first to use the
word (Holtzmann in Schenkel, Bibel Lexicon, s. v. " Evangelien," p. 207). But
although the word, so far as I am aware, is modern, the contrasts presented by the
first three and the fourth Gospels were, of course, very early observed (Clem.
Alex. ap. Euseb. Hist. Ecc. vi. 14). Professor Westcott treats of "the origin of
the Gospels " with his usual learning and candor in his Introduction, pp. 152 — 195.
He there mentions that if the total contents of the Gospels be represented by 100,
there are 7 peculiarities in St. Mark, 42 in St. Matthew, 59 in St. Luke, and 92 in
St. John. 61

482 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
complete narrative of His three and a-half years of public life. Each
of them relates the incidents which came most immediately within
his own scope, and were best known to him either by personal wit
ness, by isolated written documents, or by oral tradition ; ' and each
of them tells enough to show that He was the Christ, the Son of the
Living God, the Saviour of the world. Now, since the raising of
Lazarus would not seem to them a greater exercise of miraculous
power than others which they had recorded (John xi. 37) — since, as
has well been said, no semeiometer had been then invented to test
the relative greatness of miracles — and since this miracle fell within
the Judsean cycle — it does not seem at all more inexplicable that they
should have omitted this, than that they should have omitted the
miracle at Bethesda, or the opening of the eyes of him who had been
born blind. But further than this, we seem to trace in the Synop
tists a special reticence about the family at Bethany. The house in
which they take a prominent position is called " the house of Simon
the leper ; " Mary is called simply " a woman " by St. Matthew and
St. Mark (Matt. xxvi. 6, 7 ; Mark xiv. 3) ; and St. Luke contents
himself with calling Bethany "a certain village" (Luke x. 38),
although he was perfectly aware of the name (Luke xix. 29). There
is, therefore, a distinct argument for the conjecture that when the
earliest form of the Gospel of St. Matthew appeared, and when the
memorials were collected which were used by the other two Synop
tists, there may have been special reasons for not recording a miracle
which would have brought into dangerous prominence a man who
was still living, but of whom the Jews had distinctly sought to get
rid as a witness of Christ's wonder-working power (John xii. 10).
Even if this danger had ceased, it would have been obviously repul
sive to the quiet family of Bethany to have been made the focus of
an intense and irreverent curiosity, and to be questioned about those
hidden things which none have ever revealed. Something, then,
seems to have " sealed the lips " of those Evangelists — an obstacle
which had been long removed when St. John's Gospel first saw the
light. " If they believe not Moses and the Prophets " — so ran the answer
of Abraham to Dives in the parable — " neither will they be con
verted though one (and this, too, a Lazarus !) rose from the dead."
It was even so. There were many witnesses of this miracle who
believed when they saw it, but there were others who could only
1 Vid. supra, p. 223, n., where I have quoted the testimony of St. Augustine to
this effect.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 483
carry an angry and alarmed account of it to the Sanhedrin at Jeru
salem. The Sanhedrin met in a spirit of hatred and perplexity.1 They
could not deny the miracle ; they would not believe on Him who
had performed it ; they could only dread His growing influence, and
conjecture that it would be used to make Himself a king, and so end
in Roman intervention and the annihilation of their political exist
ence. And as they vainly raged in impotent counsels, Joseph
Caiaphas arose to address them. He was the civil High- Priest,
and held the office eleven years, from A. D. 25, when Yalerius
Gratus placed him in it, till A. D. 36, when Yitellius turned him
out. A large share indeed of the honor which belonged to his posi
tion had been transferred to Ananus, Annas -*- or to give him his
true Jewish name, Hanan — who had simply been deprived of the
High Priesthood by Roman authority, and who (as we shall see here
after) was perhaps the Nasi or Sagan, and was, at any rate, regarded
as being the real High Priest by the stricter Jews. Caiaphas, how
ever, was at this time nominally and ostensibly High Priest." As
such he was supposed to have that gift of prophecy which was still
believed to linger faintly in the persons of the descendants of Aaron,
after the total disappearance of dreams, Urim, omens, prophets, and
Bath Kdl, which, in descending degrees, had been the ordinary means
of ascertaining the will of God.3 And thus when Caiaphas rose, and
with shameless avowal of a policy most flagitiously selfish and unjust,4
1 John xi. 47 — 54.
2 Some have seen an open irony in the expression of St. John (xi. 49), that Caia
phas was High Priest " that same year," as though the Jews had got into this
contemptuous way of speaking during the rapid succession of priests — mere
phantoms set up and displaced by the Roman fiat — who had in recent years suc
ceeded each other. There must have been at least five living High Priests, and
ex-High Priests at this council — Annas, Ismael Ben Phabi, Eleazer Ben Hanan,
Simon Ben Kamhith, and Caiaphas, who had gained his elevation by bribery (see
Reland, Antt. Hebr., p. 160, where he gives lists of the High Priests from Josephus,
Nicephorus, &c).
3 See Jos. B. J. iii. 8, § 3.
4 Some of these conspirators must have lived to learn by the result that what is
morally wrong never can be politically expedient. The death of the Innocent, so
far from saving the nation, precipitated its ruin, and that ruin fell most heavily
on those who had brought it about. When the Idumeans entered Jerusalem,
" Tous les membres de la caste sacerdotale qu'on put trouver furent tues. Hanan
[son of the Gospel 'Annas '] et Jesus fils de Gamala subirent d'affreuses insultes ;
leurs corps furent prives de sepulture, outrage inoul chez les Juifs. Ainsi perit
le fils du principal auteur de la mort de Jesus. Ce fut . . . la fin du parti
sadduceen, parti souvent hautain, egolste et cruel. Avec Hanan pent le vieux
sacerdoce juif, infebde" aux grandes families sadducgennes .... Grande fnt

484 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
haughtily told the Sanhedrin that all their proposals were mere
ignorance, and that the only thing to be done was to sacrifice one
victim — innocent or guilty he did not stop to inquire or to define —
one victim for the whole people — ay, and, St. John adds, not for
that nation only, but for all God's children scattered throughout the
world — they accepted unhesitatingly that voice of unconscious
prophecy. And by accepting it they filled to the brim the cup of
their iniquity, and incurred the crime which drew upon their guilty
heads the very catastrophe which it was committed to avert. It was
this Moloch worship of worse than human sacrifice which, as in the
days of Manasseh, doomed them to a second and a more terrible,
and a more enduring, destruction. There were some, indeed, who
were not to be found on that Hill of Evil Counsel,1 or who, if pres
ent, consented not to the counsel or will of them ; but from that day
forth the secret fiat had been issued that Jesus must be put to death.
Henceforth He was living with a price upon His head.
And that fiat, however originally secret, became instantly known.
Jesus was not ignorant of it ; and for the last few weeks of His
earthly existence, till the due time had brought round the Passover
at which he meant to lay down His life, He retired in secret to a
little obscure city, near the wilderness, called Ephraim." There, safe
from all the tumults and machinations of His deadly enemies, He
spent calmly and happily those last few weeks of rest, surrounded
only by His disciples, and training them, in that peaceful seclusion,
for the mighty work of thrusting their sickles into the ripening har-
Timpression, quand on contempla jetes nus hors de la ville, livre"s aux chiens et
aux chacals, ces aristocrates si hautement respectes . . . C'etait un monde qui
disparaissait. Incapable de former un Etat a lui seul il devait en arriver au point
oil nous le voyons depuis dix-huit sifecles, c'est-a-dire a vivre en guise de parasite,
dans la republique d'autrui." 323 (Renan, L'Antechrist, p. 287, who sees in all this
no hand of God.)
1 This is the name still given to the traditional site of the house of Caiaphas,
where the meeting is supposed to have been held.
2 xaopr/ psyidrri, Euseb. ; " villa praegrandis," Jer. ; itoXixviov, Jos. (Keim, III.
i. 6.) — There is much uncertainty as to the position of Ephraim ; it may possibly
have been on the site of the modern village of Et-Taiyibeh, which is near to the
wilderness (John xi. 54), and not far from Beitin, the ancient Bethel (2 Chron. xiii.
19 ; Jos. B. J. iv. 9, § 9), and about twenty miles to the north of Jerusalem (Jerome,
Onomast). (See Robinson, Bibl. Res. i. 444 seqq.) There is no necessity to sup
pose with Ebrard (Gosp. Hist. p. 360) that it was south-east of Jerusalem. (The
Kethibh, in 2 Chron. xiii. 19, has "Ephron;" the Keri, " Ephraim." Wieseler
(Synops. p. 291) elaborately argues that Eusebius is right, as against Jerome, in
placing it eight miles from Jerusalem, but this would hardly be far enough for
safety ; and if Ephraim be Et-Taiyibeh, that is very nearly if not quite twenty
miles from the Holy City.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 485
vests of the world. None, or few beside that faithful band, knew of
His hiding place ; for the Pharisees, when they found themselves
unable to conceal their designs, had published an order that if any
man knew where He was, he was to reveal it, that they might seize
Him, if necessary even by violence, and execute the decision at which
they had arrived. But, as yet, the bribe had no effect.
How long this deep and much-imperilled retirement lasted we are
not told, nor can we lift the veil of silence that has fallen over its
records. If the decision at which the Beth Din in the house of
Caiaphas had arrived was regarded as a formal sentence of death,
then it is not impossible that these scrupulous legists may have suf
fered forty days to elapse for the production of witnesses in favor of
the accused.1 But it is very doubtful whether the destruction intended
for Jesus was not meant to be carried out in a manner more Secret and
more summary, bearing the aspect rather of a violent assassination
than of a legal judgment.
1 Such is the supposition of Sepp, II. iii. 31, and it derives some support from
the turbid legend of the Talmud, which says that forty days before His death (the
legal time for the production of witnesses) Jesus was excommunicated by Joshua
Ben Perachiah, to the blast of 400 trumpets.

486 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XLYIII.
JERICHO AND BETHANY.
" Those mighty voices three, —
Hrjdov iXsrjdov ps,
QdpdEi, sysipai, cpaovsi ds,
rj itidni dov didGOKE de." 324 — LONGFELLOW.
From the conical hill of Ephraim Jesus could see the pilgrim bands
as, at the approach of the Passover, they began to stream down the
Jordan valley towards Jerusalem, to purify themselves from every
ceremonial defilement before the commencement of the Great Feast.1
The time had come for Him to leave his hiding-place, and He
descended from Ephraim to the high road in order to join the great
caravan of Galilsean pilgrims."
And as He turned His back on the little town, and began the
journey which was to end at Jerusalem, a prophetic solemnity and
elevation of soul struggling with the natural anguish of the flesh,
which shrank from that great sacrifice, pervaded His whole being,
and gave a new and strange grandeur to every gesture and every
look. It was the Transfiguration of Self-sacrifice; and, like that
previous Transfiguration of Glory, it filled those who beheld it with
an amazement and terror which they could not explain.3 There are
few pictures in the Gospel more striking than this of Jesus going
forth to His death, and walking alone along the path into the deep
valley, while behind Him, in awful reverence, and mingled anticipa
tions of dread and hope — their eyes fixed on Him, as with bowed
nead He preceded them in all the majesty of sorrow — the disciples
walked behind and dared not disturb His meditations. But at last
He paused and beckoned them to Him, and then, once more — for
the third time — with fuller, clearer, more startling, more terrible
particulars than ever before, He told them that He should be betrayed
1 Numb. ix. 10 ; 2 Chron. xxx. 17 ; Jos. Antt. xvii. 9, § 3.
2 Matt. xx. 17—19 ; Mark x. 32—34 ; Luke xviii. 31—34.
s Mark x. 32. Tischendorf, Meyer, &c, accept the reading of a, B, C, L, &c, oi
Si dxoXovBovvTEi,326 as though there were two sets of the Apostles, of whom
some in their fear had fallen behind the rest.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 487
to the Priests and Scribes ; by them condemned ; then handed over
to the Gentiles ; by the Gentiles mocked, scourged, and — He now
for the first time revealed to them, without any ambiguity, the crown
ing horror — crucified; and that, on the third day, He should rise
again. But their minds were full of Messianic hopes ; they were so
pre-occupied with the conviction that now the kingdom of God was
to come in all its splendor, that the prophecy passed by them like the
idle wind ; they could not, and would not, understand.
There can be no more striking comment on their inability to realize
the meaning of what Jesus had said to them, than the fact that very
shortly after, and during the same journey, occurred the ill-timed and
strangely unspiritual request which the Evangelists proceed to record.1
With an air of privacy and mystery, Salome, one of the constant
attendants of Jesus, with her two sons, James and John, who were
among the most eminent of His Apostles, came to Him with adora
tions, and begged Him to promise them a favor. He asked what
they wished ; and then the mother, speaking for her fervent-hearted
ambitious sons, begged that in His kingdom they might sit, the one
at His right hand, and the other at His left." Jesus bore gently with
their selfishness and error. They had asked in their blindness for
that position which, but a few days afterwards, they were to see
occupied in shame and anguish by the two crucified robbers. Their
imaginations were haunted by twelve thrones ; His thoughts were of
three crosses. They dreamt of earthly crowns ; He told them of a
cup of bitterness " and a baptism of blood. Could they indeed drink
with Him of that cup, and be baptized with that baptism ? Under
standing perhaps more of His meaning now, they yet boldly answered,
" We can ; " and then He told them that they indeed should do so,
but that to sit on His right hand and on His left was reserved for
those for whom it had be.en prepared by His Heavenly Father.4 The
throne, says Basil, " is the price of toils, not a grace granted to ambi
tion ; a reward of righteousness, not the concession of a request."
1 Matt. xx. 20—28 ; Mark x. 35—45 ; Luke xviii. 32—34.
2 In Jos. Antt. vi. 11, § 9, Jonathan sits at Saul's right hand, Abner at his left.
In the Midrash Tehillin, God is represented with the Messiah on His right and
Abraham on His left (Wetstein ad loc). Comp. 1 Kings ii. 19 (Bathsheba) ;
xxii. 19.
3 John xviii. 11 ; Rev. xiv. 10 ; Ps. lxxv. 8. " Lavacrum sanguinis " 8i6 (Tert.
Scorp. 12). (Keim, iii. 43.)
4 The English version is here not very happy in interpolating " it shall be
given " (Matt. xx. 23), for the meaning is " not Mine to give except to tliose for
whom it is prepared of My Father." Comp. Matt. xxv. 34 ; 2 Tim. iv. 8.

488 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
The ten, when they heard the incident, were naturally indignant
at this secret attempt of the two brothers to secure for themselves a
pre-eminence of honor ; little knowing that, so far as earth was con
cerned — and of this alone they dreamt — that premium of honor
should only be, for the one a precedence in martyrdom, for the other
a prolongation of suffering.1 This would be revealed to them in due
time, but even now Jesus called them all together, and taught them,
as He had so often taught them," that the highest honor is won by
the deepest humility. The shadowy principalities of earth 3 were char
acterized by the semblance of a little brief authority over their fellow-
men ; it was natural for them to lord it, and tyrannize it over their
fellows : but in the kingdom of heaven the lord, of all should be the
servant of all, even as the highest Lord had spent His very life in the
lowest ministrations, and was about to give it as a ransom for many.
As they advanced towards Jericho,4 through the scorched and
treeless Gh6r, the crowd of attendant pilgrims grew more and more
dense about Him. It was either the evening of Thursday, Nisan 7,
or the morning of Friday, Nisan 8, when they reached the environs
1 Acts xii. 2 ; Rev. i. 9.
2 Matt, xviii. 4 ; xxiii. 11.
3 Mark x. 42, oi Soxovvrsi dpxEiv, those who profess to govern. The xara-
xvpiEvovdi and xar sl-ovdidZovdi have a slightly unfavorable sense (1 Pet.
v. 3).
4 Matt. xx. 30—34 ; Mark x. 46—52 ; Luke xviii. 35—43. Those who have a
narrow, timid, superstitious, and unscriptural view of inspiration may well be
troubled by the obvious discrepancies between the Evangelists in this narrative.
Not only does St. Matthew mention two blind men, while the others only mention
one, but St. Matthew says that the miracle was performed "as they departed from
Jericho," while St. Luke most distinctly implies that it took place before He
entered it. But no reasonable reader will be troubled by differences which do not
affect the truthfulness — though of course they affect the accuracy — of the narra
tive ; and which, without a direct and wholly needless miraculous intervention,
must have occurred, as they actually do occur, in the narratives of the Evangelis.ts,
as in those of all other, truthful witnesses. Of the fourteen or fifteen proposed
ways of harmonizing the discrepancies, most involve a remedy far worse than the
supposed defect ; but Macknight's suggestion that the miracle may have been
performed between the two Jerichos — the ancient site of the Canaanite city, and
the new semi-Herodian city — is at least possible. So, indeed, is the supposition
that one of them was healed on entering, and the other on leaving the city. I
believe that if we knew the exact circumstances the discrepancy would vanish ;
but even if it did not — if, for instance, Matthew had spoken of Bartimseus and his
guide as " two blind men," or, in the course of time, any trivial inaccuracy had
found its way into the early documents on which St. Luke based his Gospel — I
Should see nothing distressing or derogatory in such a supposition. For my views
on Inspiration, I may perhaps be allowed to refer to my papers on the subject in
Vol. I., p. 190, of the Bible Educator. On the fertility of Jericho, see Jos. B. J.
iv. 8, § 3. The rose of Jericho is the Anastatica Hierochuntia of Linnseus.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 439
of that famous city — the city of fragrance, the city of roses, the city
of palm-trees, the "paradise of God." ¦ It is now a miserable and
degraded Arab village, but was then a prosperous and populous
town, standing on a green and flowery oasis,1 rich in honey and leaf-
honey, and myrobalanum, and well watered by the Fountain of
Elisha and by other abundant springs. Somewhere in the vicinity
of the town sat blind Bartimseus," the son of Timseus, begging with
a companion of his misery; and as they heard the noise of the
passing multitude, and were told that it was Jesus of Nazareth who
was passing by, they raised their voices in the cry, " Jesus, Thou
Son of David, have mercy on us." The multitude resented this
loud clamor as unworthy of the majesty of Him who was now to
enter Jerusalem as the Messiah of His nation. But Jesus heard the
cry; and His compassionate heart was touched. He stood still, and
ordered them to be called to Him. Then the obsequious throng
alter their tone, and say to Bartimseus, who is so much the more
prominent in the narrative that two of the Synoptists do not even
mention his companion at all — " Be of good cheer ; rise, He calleth
thee." With a burst of hasty joy, flinging away his abba, he leaped
up," and was led to Jesus. " What wiliest thou that I should do for
thee ? " " Rabboni," he answered (giving Jesus the most reverential
title that he knew),4 " that I may recover my sight." " Go," said
Jesus, " thy faith hath saved thee." He touched the eyes both of
him and of his companion, and with recovered sight they followed
among the rejoicing multitudes, glorifying God.
It was necessary to rest at Jericho before entering on the danger
ous, rocky, robber-haunted gorge which led from it to Jerusalem,
and formed a rough, almost continuous, ascent of six hours," from
600 feet below to nearly 3,000 feet above the level of the Mediter
ranean. The two most distinctive classes of Jericho were priests and
publicans ; and, as it was a priestly city, it might naturally have been
expected that the king, the son of David, the successor of Moses,
would be received in the house of some descendant of Aaron. But
the place where Jesus chose to rest was determined by other circum-
Btances." A colony of publicans was established in the city to secure
1 Ecclus. xxiv. 14.
2 The name seems to be derived from the Aramaic same, samia = " blind." So
Buxtorf and Hitzig, quoted by Keim, iii 52.
8 Mark x. 50, dvaitijSijdai (X, B, D, L, Tisch., Lachm.,&c).
4 The steps of honor were Rab, Rabbi, Rabban, Rabboni.
5 About fifteen miles.
6 Luke xix. 1 — 10.
62

490 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the revenues accruing from the large traffic in a kind of balsam,
which grew more luxuriantly there than in any other place,1 and to
regulate the exports and imports between the Roman province and
the dominions of Herod Antipas. One of the chiefs of these publi
cans " was a man named Zacchseus,3 doubly odious to the people, as
being a Jew and as exercising his functions so near to the Holy City.
His official rank would increase his unpopularity, because the Jews
would regard it as due to exceptional activity in the service of their
Roman oppressors, and they would look upon his wealth as a proba
ble indication of numerous extortions. This man had a deep desire
to see with his own eyes what kind of person Jesus was ; but being
short of stature, he was unable, in the dense crowd, to catch a glimpse
of Him. He therefore ran forward, as Jesus was passing through
the town, and climbed the low branches of an Egyptian fig, which
overshadowed the road.4 Under this tree Jesus would pass, and the
publican would have ample opportunity of seeing one who, alone of
His nation, not only showed no concentrated and fanatical hatred for
the class to which he belonged, but had found among publicans His
most eager listeners, and had elevated one of them into the rank of
an Apostle. Zacchseus saw Him as He approached, and how must his
heart have beat with joy and gratitude, when the Great Prophet, the
avowed Messiah of His nation, passed under the tree, looked up, and,
calling him by his name, bade him hasten and come down, because
He intended to be a guest in his house. Zacchseus should not only
see Him, but He would come in and sup with him, and make His
abode with him — the glorious Messiah a guest of the execrated pub
lican. With undisguised joy Zacchseus eagerly hastened down from
the boughs of the " sycomore," and led the way to his house.6 But
1 Jos. Antt. xiv. 4, § 1 ; xv. 4, § 2 ; Justin, Hist, xxxvi. 3, &c.
2 apxirEXaovrji. This does not necessarily imply that he had reached the rank
of an actual publicanus, which was usually held by Roman knights, although
some Jews, as we learn from Josephus, actually did attain to this rank (B. J. ii.
14, § 9).
3 A Jewish name, an abbreviation of Zachariah ; <3t, " pure " (Ezra ii. 9) ; Zakkai
(Jos. Vit. 46). Lightfoot (Hor. Hebr. ad loc.) thinksT that he may be identified
with the Zakkai whom the Rabbis mention as the father of Rabbi Johanan.
4 The sycomore, or " Egyptian fig " (Luke xix. 4) — not to be confounded with
the sycamine-tree or " mulberry " of Luke xvii. 6, or with the sycamore or pseudo-
platanus, which is sometimes erroneously spelt sycomore — is exceedingly easy
to climb.
5 The square ruin in the wretched village of Riha, the ancient Jericho, is (of
course) called the house of Zacchseus, and is a Saracenic structure of the twelfth
century.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 491
the murmurs of the multitude were long, and loud, and unanimous.1
They thought it impolitic, incongruous, reprehensible, that the King,
in the very midst of His impassioned followers, should put up at the
house of a man whose very profession was a symbol of the national
degradation, and who even in that profession was, as they openly
implied, disreputable. But the approving smile, the gracious word
of Jesus were more to Zacchseus than all the murmurs and insults of
the crowd. Jesus did not despise him : what mattered then the con
tempt of the multitude ? Nay, Jesus had done him honor, therefore
he would honor, he would respect himself. As all that was base in
him would have been driven into defiance by contempt and hatred,
so all that was noble was evoked by a considerate tenderness. He
would strive to be worthy, at least more worthy, of his glorious
guest ; he would at least do his utmost to disgrace Him less. And,
therefore, standing prominently forth among the throng, he uttered
— not to them, for they despised him, and for them he cared not,
but to his Lord — the vow which, by one high act of magnanimity,
at once attested his penitence and sealed his forgiveness. " Behold
the half of my goods, Lord, I hereby give to the poor ; and whatever
fraudulent gain I ever made from any one, I now restore fourfold." "
This great sacrifice of that which had hitherto been dearest to him,
this fullest possible restitution of every gain he had ever gotten dis
honestly, this public confession and public restitution, should be a
pledge to his Lord that His grace had not been in vain. Thus did
love unseal by a single touch those swelling fountains of penitence
which contempt would have kept closed for ever ! No incident of
His triumphal procession could have given to our Lord a deeper and
holier joy. Was it not His very mission to seek and save the lost 2
Looking on the publican, thus ennobled by that instant renunciation
of the fruits of sin, which is the truest test of a genuine repentance,
He said, " Now is salvation come to this house, since he too is " — in
the true spiritual sense, not in the idle, boastful, material sense alone
— "a son of Abraham." 3

' Luke xix. 7, ditavrei SisyoyyvZov.
2 Lange and others see in the ei nvoi ri idvxocpdvryda 32' a sort of denial
that he had ever cheated — a challenge to any one to come forward and accuse
him; but the Greek idiom does not imply this. SvxocpavVEiv means to gain in
base, underhand, pettifogging ways (see Exod. xxii. 1 — 9). Fourfold restitution
was more than Zacchasus need have paid (Numb. v. 7), and evidently, if he could
redeem his pledge, the bulk of his property must have been honestly acquired.
8 The legend that he afterwards became Bishop of Csesarea is too late to be of
any value (Clem. Horn. ii. 1, &c).

492 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
To show them how mistaken were the expectations with which
they were now excited — how erroneous, for instance, were the prin
ciples on which they had just been condemning Him for using the
hospitality of Zacchseus — He proceeded (either at the meal in the
publican's house, or more probably when they had again started) to
tell them the Parable of the Pounds.1 Adopting incidents with
which the history of the Herodian family had made them familiar,
He told them of a nobleman who had travelled into a far country
to receive a kingdom," and had delivered to each of his servants a
mina to be profitably employed till his return ; the citizens hated
him, and sent an embassy after him to procure his rejection. But in
spite of this his kingdom was confirmed, and he came back to- punish
his enemies, and to reward his servants in proportion to their fidelity.
One faithless servant, instead of using the sum entrusted to him, had
hidden it in a napkin, and returned it with an unjust and insolent
complaint of his master's severity. This man was deprived of his
pound, which was given to the most deserving of the good and faithful
servants ; " these were magnificently rewarded, while the rebellious
citizens were brought forth and slain. The parable was one of many-
sided application ; it indicated His near departure from the world ;
the hatred which should reject Him ; the duty of faithfulness in the
use of all that He entrusted to them ; the uncertainty of His return ;
the certainty that, when He did return, there would be a solemn
account ; the condemnation of the slothful ; the splendid reward of
all who should serve Him well ; the utter destruction of those who
endeavored to reject His power. Probably while He delivered this
parable the caravan had paused, and the pilgrims had crowded round
1 Luke xix. 11—27.
2 "A nobleman going into a far country to receive a kingdom " would be utterly.
unintelligible, had we not fortunately known that this was done both by Arche
laus and by Antipas (Jos. Antt. xvii. 9, § 4). And in the case of Archelaus the
Jews had actually sent to Augustus a deputation of fifty, to recount his cruelties
and oppose his claims, which, though it failed at the time, was subsequently suc
cessful (Id. xvii. 13, § 2). Philippus defended the property of Archelaus during
his absence from the encroachments of the Proconsul Sabinus. The magnificent
palace which Archelaus had built at Jericho (Jos. Antt. xvii. 13, § 1) would natu
rally recall these circumstances to the mind of Jesus, and the parable is another
striking example of the manner in which He utilized the most ordinary circum
stances around Him, and made them the bases of His highest teachings. It is
also another unsuspected indication of the authenticity and truthfulness of the
Gospels. 3 The surprised interpellation of the people, " Lord, he hath ten pounds," is an
interesting proof of the intense and absorbing interest with which they listened
to these parables.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 493
Him. Leaving them to meditate on its significance, He once more
moved forward alone at the head of the long and marvelling proces
sion. They fell reverently back, and followed Him with many a look
of awe as He slowly climbed the long, sultry, barren gorge which
led up to Jerusalem from Jericho.1
He did not mean to make the city of Jerusalem His actual resting-
place, but preferred as usual to stay in the loved home at Bethany.
Thither He arrived on the evening of Friday, Nisan 8, A. U. C. 780
(March 31, A. D. 30), six days before the Passover, and before the
sunset had commenced the Sabbath hours. Here He would part from
His train of pilgrims, some of whom would go to enjoy the hospitality
of their friends in the city, and others, as they do. at the present day,
would run up for themselves rude tents and booths in the valley of
the Kedron, and about the western slopes of the Mount of Olives.
The Sabbath day was spent in quiet, and on the evening they
made Him a supper." St. Matthew and St. Mark say, a little mys-
1 teriously, that this feast was given in the house of Simon the leper.
St. John makes no mention whatever of Simon the leper, a name
which does not occur elsewhere ; and it is clear from his narrative
that the family of Bethany were in all respects the central figures at
this entertainment. Martha seems to have had the entire supervision
of the feast, and the risen Lazarus was almost as much an object of
curiosity as Jesus himself. In short, so many thronged to see
Lazarus— for the family was one of good position, and its members
were widely known and beloved — that the notorious and indispu
table miracle which had been performed on his behalf caused many
to believe on Jesus. This so exasperated the ruling party at Jerusa
lem that, in their wicked desperation, they actually held a consultation
how they might get rid of this living witness to the supernatural
powers of the Messiah whom they rejected. Now since the raising
of Lazarus was so intimately connected with the entire cycle of
events which the earlier Evangelists so minutely record, we are again
driven to the conclusion that there must have been some good
reason, a reason which we can but uncertainly conjecture, for their
1 Luke xix. 28.
2 Matt. xxvi. 6 — 13 ; Mark xiv. 3 — 9 ; John xii. 1 — 9. This Sabbath preceding
the Passover was called by the Jews Shabbath Haggaddl, or the " Great Sabbath."
It is only in appearance that the Synoptists seem to place this feast two days
before the Passover. They narrate it there to account for the treachery of Judas,
which was consummated by his final arrangements with the Sanhedrin on the
Wednesday of Holy week ; but we see from St. John that this latter must have
been his second interview with them : at the first interview all details had been
left indefinite. i.

494 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
marked reticence on this subject ; and we find another trace of this
reticence in their calling Mary " a certain woman," in their omission
of all allusion to Martha and Lazarus, and in their telling us that
this memorable banquet was served in the house of "Simon the
leper." Who then was this Simon the leper? That he was no
longer a leper is of course certain, for otherwise he could not have
been living in his own house, or mingling in general society. Had
he then been cleansed by Jesus? and, if so, was this one cause of
the profound belief in Him which prevailed in that little household,
and of the tender affection with which they always welcomed Him ?
or, again, was Simon now dead ? We cannot answer these questions,
nor are there sufficient data to enable us to decide whether he was
the father of Martha and Mary and Lazarus,1 or as some have con
jectured, whether Martha was his widow, and the inheritress of his
house. Be this as it may, the feast was chiefly memorable, not for the
number of Jews who thronged to witness it, and so to gaze at once
on the Prophet of Nazareth and on the man whom He had raised
from the dead, but from one memorable incident which occurred in
the course of it, and which was the immediate beginning of the dark
and dreadful end.
For as she sat there in the presence of her beloved and rescued
brother, and her yet more deeply worshipped Lord, the feelings of
Mary could no longer be restrained. She was not occupied like her
sister in the active ministrations of the feast, but she sat and thought
and gazed until the fire burned, and she felt impelled to some
outward sign of her love, her gratitude, her adoration. So she arose
and fetched an alabaster vase of Indian spikenard, and came softly
behind Jesus where He sat, and broke the alabaster in her hands,
and poured the genuine " precious perfume first over His head, then
over His feet, and then — unconscious of every presence save His
alone — she wiped those feet with the long tresses of her hair, while
1 So Ewald, Gesch. Christ., 401.
2 dXdfiadrpov pvpov vdpSov itidrixifi itoXvrsXovi (Mark xiv. 3). Cf
" Nardi parvus onyx" (Hor. Od. iv. 12). The possession of so expensive an un
guent shows that the family was rich. It would have been under any circumstances
a princely gift (Herod, iii. 120). The word Ttidrixrji, if it mean " genuine," is
opposed to the pseudo-nardus (Plin. xii. 26) ; but this interpretation of the word is
by no means free from difficulty, and I have no better to offer. It "^was so great
an ecstasy of love, sorrow, and adoration, that to anoint the feet even of the great
est monarch was long unknown ; and in all the pomps and greatnesses of the
Roman prodigality, it was not used till Otho taught it to Nero " (Pliny, N. H. xiii.
35; Jer. Taylor, III. xiii.).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 495
the atmosphere of the whole house was filled with the delicious
fragrance. It was an act of devoted • sacrifice, of exquisite self-
abandonment ; and the poor Galilseans who followed Jesus, so little
accustomed to any luxury, so fully alive to the costly nature of the
gift, might well have been amazed that it should have all been lav
ished on the rich luxury of one brief moment. None but the most
spiritual-hearted there could feel that the delicate odor which breathed
through the perfumed house might be to God a sweet-smelling savor ;
that even this was infinitely too little to satisfy the love of her who
gave, or the dignity of Him to whom the gift was given.
But there was one present to whom on every ground the act was
odious and repulsive. There is no vice at once so absorbing, so
unreasonable, and so degrading as the vice of avarice, and avarice
was the besetting sin in the dark soul of the traitor Judas. The fail
ure to struggle with his own temptations; the disappointment of
every expectation which had first drawn him to Jesus; the intoler
able rebuke conveyed. to his whole being by the daily communion
with a sinless purity ; the darker shadow which he could not but feel
that his guilt flung athwart his footsteps because of the burning sun
light in which for many months he now had walked ; the sense too
that the eye of his Master, possibly even the eyes of some of his
fellow-apostles, had read or were beginning to read the hidden
secrets of his heart; — all these things had gradually deepened
from an incipient alienation into an insatiable repugnancy and
hate. And the sight of Mary's lavish sacrifice, the consciousness
that it was now too late to save that large sum for the bag — the
mere possession of which, apart from the sums which he could pilfer
out of it, gratified his greed for gold — filled him with disgust and
madness. He had a devil. He felt as if he had been personally
cheated; as if the money were by right his, and he had been, in a
senseless manner, defrauded of it. " To what purpose is this waste ? "
he indignantly said; and, alas! how often have his words been
echoed, for wherever there is an act of splendid self-forgetfulness
there is always a Judas to sneer and murmur at it. " This ointment
might have been sold for three hundred pence and given to the
poor!" Three hundred pence — ten pounds or more! There was
perfect frenzy in the thought of such utter perdition of good money ; *
1 yXaodddxopov (John xii. 6). Vid. supr-, p. 247.
2 Matt. xxvi. 8, Eii ri r) aitaoXeia avrr) ; " Immo tu, Juda, perditionis es " (6 vidi
rfji ditGoXsiai, John xvii. 12). (Bengel.) — "More than three hundred pence"
would be at least £10, while the thirty pieces of silver for which Judas bargained
to betray Jesus were not more than £3 16s.

496 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
why, for barely a third of such a sum, this son of perdition was ready
to sell his Lord. Mary thought it not good enough to anele Christ's
sacred feet : Judas thought a third part of it sufficient reward for
selling His very fife.
That little touch about its " being given to the poor " is a very
instructive one. It was probably the veil used by Judas to half con
ceal even from himself the grossness of his own motives — the fact
that he was a petty thief, and really wished the charge of this money
because it would have enabled him to add to his own private store.
People rarely sin under the full glare of self -consciousness ; they
usually blind themselves with false pretexts and specious motives;
and though Judas could not conceal his baseness from the clearer eye
of John, he probably concealed it from himself under the notion that
he really was protesting against an act of romantic wastefulness, and
pleading the cause of disinterested charity.
But Jesus would not permit the contagion of this worldly indigna
tion — - which had already infected some of the simple disciples — to
spread any farther ; nor would He allow Mary, already the centre
of an unfavorable observation which pained and troubled her, to
suffer any more from the consequences of her noble act. " Why
trouble ye the woman ? " He said. " Let her alone ; she wrought a
good work upon Me ; for ye have the poor always with you, but Me
ye have not always ; for in casting this ointment on My body, she
did it for My burying." And He added the prophecy — a prophecy
which to this day is memorably fulfilled — that wherever the Gospel
should be preached that deed of hers should be recorded and
honored. "For My burying" — clearly, therefore, His condemnation and
burial were near at hand. This was another death-blow to all false
Messianic hopes. No earthly wealth, no regal elevation could be
looked for by the followers of One who was so soon to die. It may
have been another impulse of disappointment to the thievish traitor
who had thus publicly been not only thwarted, but also silenced, and
implicitly rebuked. The loss of the money, which might by imagina
tion have been under his own control, burnt in him with " a secret,
dark, melancholic fire." He would not lose everything. In his
hatred, and madness, and despair, he slunk away from Bethany that
night, and made his way to Jerusalem, and got introduced into the
council-room of the chief priests in the house of Caiaphas, and had
that first fatal interview in which he bargained with them to betray
his Lord. " What are you willing to give me, and I will betray
Him to you? " What greedy chafferings took place we are not told,

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 497
nor whether the counter-avarices of these united hatreds had a
struggle before they decided on the paltry blood-money. If so, the
astute Jewish priests beat down the poor ignorant Jewish Apostle.
For all that they offered and all they paid was thirty pieces of
silver ' — about £3, 16s. — the ransom-money of the meanest slave.
For this price he was to sell his Master, and in selling his Master to
sell his own life, and to gain in return the execration of the world
for all generations yet to come. And, so for the last week of his
own and his Master's life, Judas moved about with the purpose of
murder in his dark and desperate heart. But as yet no day had been
fixed, no plan decided on — only the betrayal paid for ; and there
seems to have been a general conviction that it would not do to make
the attempt during the actual feast, lest there should be an uproar
among the multitude who accepted Him, and especially among the
dense throngs of pilgrims from His native Galilee. They believed
that many opportunities would occur, either at Jerusalem or else
where, when the great Passover was finished, and the Holy City had
relapsed into its ordinary calm.
And the events of the following day would be likely to give the
most emphatic confirmation to the worldly wisdom of their wicked
decision.

1 See Exod. xxi. 32 ; Zech. xi. 12. The 'idrrjdav of Matt. xxvi. 15 seems to
imply that the money was paid down. No actual shekels were current at this
time, but Judas may have been paid in Syrian or Phoenician tetradrachms, which
were of the same weight (v. Madden). The paltriness of the sum (if it were not
mere earnest-money) undoubtedly shows that the authorities did not regard the
services of Judas as indispensable. He only saved them trouble and possible
blood-shedding. 63

498 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER XLIX.
PALM SUNDAY.
" Ride on, ride on in majesty,
In lowly pomp ride on to die ! " — Hymn.
There seems to have been a general impression for some time
beforehand that, in spite of all which had recently happened, Jesus
would still be present at the Paschal Feast. The probability of this
had incessantly been debated among the people, and the expected
arrival of the Prophet of Galilee was looked forward to with intense
curiosity and interest.1
Consequently, when it became known early on Sunday morning
that during the day He would certainly enter the Holy City, the
excitement was very great. The news would be spread by some of
the numerous Jews who had visited Bethany on the previous even
ing, after the sunset had closed the Sabbath, and thus enabled them
to exceed the limits of the Sabbath day's journey. Thus it was that
a very great multitude was prepared to receive and welcome the
Deliverer who had raised the dead.
He started on foot. Three roads led from Bethany over the Mount
of Olives to Jerusalem. One of these passes between its northern "
and central summits ; the other ascends the highest point of the
mountain, and slopes down through the modern village of Et • Tur ;
the third, which is, and always must have been, the main road, sweeps
round the southern shoulder of the central mass, between it and the
" Hill of Evil Counsel." The others are rather mountain paths than
roads, and as Jesus was attended by so many disciples, it is clear that
He took the third and easiest route.

' Matt. xxi. 1—11 ; Mark xi. 1—11 ; Luke xix. 28 — 40 ; John xii. 12—19.
2 Traditionally called the " Hill of Offen6e," and by Milton, " that opprobrious
hill ; " the supposed site of Solomon's idolatrous temples. It is now known as
the Viri Galilsei, in reference to Acts i. 11. The " Hill of Evil Counsel " is the one
on which stands the ruin of the so-called " House of Caiaphas." Williams (Holy
City, ii. 496) notices it as a curious fact that the tomb of Annas is not far from this
spot.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. ' 499
Passing from under the palm-trees of Bethany,1 they approached
the fig-gardens of Bethphage, the " House of Figs," a small suburb
or hamlet of undiscovered site, which lay probably a little to the
south of Bethany, and in sight of it. To this village, or some other
hamlet which lay near it, Jesus dispatched two of His disciples. The
minute description of the spot given by St. Mark makes us suppose
that Peter was one of them, and if so he was probably accompanied
by John. Jesus told them that when they got to the village they
should find an ass tied, and a colt with her ; these they were to loose
and bring to Him, and if any objection arose on the part of the owner,
it would at once be silenced by telling him that " the Lord had need
of them." Everything happened as He had said. In the -passage
round the house — i. <?., tied up at the back of the house" — they
found the ass and the foal, which was adapted for its sacred purpose
because it had never yet been used.3 The owners, on hearing their
object, at once permitted them to take the animals, and they led them
to Jesus, putting then garments over them to do Him regal honor."
Then they lifted Him upon the colt, and the triumphal procession
set forth. It was no seditious movement to stir up political enthu
siasm, no "insulting -vanity" to commemorate ambitious triumph.
Nay, it was a mere outburst of provincial joy, the simple exultation
of poor Galilseans and despised disciples. He rides, not upon a war-
horse, but on an animal which was the symbol of peace. The haughty
Gentiles, had they witnessed the humble procession, would have utterly
derided it, as indeed they did deride the record of it ; 6 but the
1 On the derivation of Bethany, v. infra, p. 503, n. There are no palms there
now, but there may have been at that period. Throughout Palestine the palm
and vine and fig-tree are/ar rarer than they were. Some identify Bethphage with
Abu Dis. Lightfoot, apparently with Talmudical authority, makes it a suburb of
Jerusalem. From the fact that in a journey towards Jerusalem it is always men
tioned before Bethany, we might assume that it was east of that village.
2 Mark xi. 4, SeSepevov itpoi rr)v Bvpav k\m iri rov dpcpoSov, not
" where two ways met," as the English version translates it, following the Vul
gate bivium ; but the Hebr. pn (Prov. i. 20), dpcpoSa, ai pvpai, dyviai
(Hesych.). 3 Numb. xix. 2 ; Deut. xxi. 3 ; 1 Sam. vi. 7. Comp. Ov. Met. iii. 12 ; Hor. Epod.
ix. 22 (Wetstein).
4 Comp. 2 Kings ix. 13.
" For instance, Julian and Sapor. In fact, the Romans had all kinds of sneers
against the Jews in connection with the ass (Jos. C. Ap. ii. 10 ; Tac. Hist. v. 3, 4). The
Christians came in for a share of this stupid jest, and were called asinarii cul-
tores 328 (Minuc. Fel. Oct. 9 ; Tert. Apol. 16 ; see Keim, iii. 82). Sapor offered the
Jews a horse to serve the purpose of carrying their expected Messiah, and a Jew
haughtily answered him that all hie horses were far below the ass which should
carry the Messiah, which was to be descended from that used by Abraham when

500 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Apostles recalled iii after days that it fulfilled the prophecy of
Zechariah : " Rejoice greatly, 0 daughter of Sion ; shout, 0 daugh
ter of Jerusalem ; behold, thy King cometh unto thee ; He is meek,
and having salvation ; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt
the foal of an ass." * Yes, it was a procession of very lowly pomp,
and yet beside it how do the grandest triumphs of aggressive war and
unjust conquest sink into utter insignificance and disgrace !
Jesus mounted the unused foal, while probably some of His disci
ples led it by the bridle. And no sooner had He started than the
multitude spread out " their upper garments to tapestry His path, and
kept tearing or cutting down the boughs of olive, and fig, and walnut,
to scatter them before Him. Then, in a burst of enthusiasm, the
disciples broke into the shout, "Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord !
Hosanna in the highest ! " 3 and the multitude caught up the joyous
strain, and told each other how He had raised Lazarus from the
dead.4 The road slopes by a gradual ascent up the Mount of Olives,
through green fields and under shady trees, till it suddenly sweeps
round to the northward. It is at this angle of the road that Jerusa
lem, which hitherto has been hidden by the shoulder of the hill,
he went to offer Isaac, and that used by Moses (Sepp, sect, vi., ch. 6). If, how
ever, He came riding on an ass, and not on the clouds, it was to be a sign of their
faithlessness (Lightfoot, ad loc). The ass is not in the East by any means a
despised or a despicable animal (Gen. xlix. 14 ; xxii. 3 ; 2 Sam. xiii. 29 ; Judg. v.
10) ; it is curious, however, to see that, because it was despised by Europeans and
Gentiles, Josephus is fond of substituting for it xrfjvoiZ2i and iit7toi,m and the
LXX., with dishonest discretion, soften It down to vitoZvyiov 331 and itooXoi*3'2
in Zech. ix. 9. It is clear that Jesus rode upon the foal, which by its mother's
side could be led quietly along. With the iitdvao avraov = " on one of them,"
comp. Acts xxiii. 24. Only inferior MSS. read avrov, and to understand avraov
of the garments is harsh. After all, however, it is doubtful whether there were
two animals or only one (ovdpiov, John xii. 14; itaoXov SeSepevov, Mark xi.
2 ; Luke xix. 30). It is in St. Matthew alone (xxi. 2, 7) that two animals are men
tioned, and it is just conceivable that the xai here may be epexegetie, and simply
due to parallelism.
1 The quotation referred to is a mixture (see Glass, Philolog. Sacr., p. 969) of
Isa. lxii. 11 ; Zech. ix. 9 ; and the Hebrew means literally " poor (NJJ) and riding
upon an ass, even upon a colt, son of she-asses." (See Turpie, Old Test, in New,
p. 222.)
2 Matt. xxi. 8, Edrpmdav .... idrpaovvvov.
3 Hosanna = «i njwin rendered by the LXX. dmdov Srj, " Oh save 1 " These
various cries are all from the Psalms which formed the great Hallel, (Ps. cxiii —
cxviii.) sung at the Feast of Tabernacles (Ps. cxviii. 25).
4 In John xii. 17, the true reading (D, E, E, L, &c.) probably is on, " that " or
" because," not ore. " when."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 501
bursts full upon the view. There, through the clear atmosphere,
rising out of the deep umbrageous valleys which surrounded it, the
city of ten thousand memories stood clear before Him, and the morn
ing sunlight, as it blazed on the marble pinnacles and gilded roofs of
the Temple buildings, was reflected in a very fiery splendor which
forced the spectator to avert his glance.1 Such a glimpse of such a
city is at all times affecting, and many a Jewish and Gentile traveller
has reined his horse at this spot, and gazed upon the scene in emotion
too deep for speech. But the Jerusalem of that day, with " its impe
rial mantle of proud towers," was regarded as one of the wonders of
the world," and was a spectacle incomparably more magnificent than
the decayed and crumbling city of to-day. And who can interpret,
who can enter into the mighty rush of divine compassion which, at
that spectacle, shook the Saviour's soul? As He gazed on that
" mass of gold and snow," was there no pride, no exultation in the
heart of its true King ? Far from it ! He had dropped silent tears
at the grave of Lazarus ;. here He wept aloud.3 All the shame of
His mockery, all the anguish of His torture, was powerless, five days
afterwards, to extort from Him a single groan, or to wet His eyelids
with one trickling tear ; but here, all the pity that was within Him
overmastered His human spirit, and He not only wept, but broke into
a passion of lamentation, in which the choked voice seemed to strug
gle for its utterance. A strange Messianic triumph ! a strange inter
ruption of the festal cries ! The Deliverer weeps over the city which
it is now too late to save ; the King prophesies the utter ruin of the
nation which He came to rule ! " H thou hadst known," He cried
— while the wondering multitudes looked on, and knew not what to
think or say — " If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in thy day,
the things that belong unto thy peace ! " 4 — and there sorrow inter
rupted the sentence, and, when He found voice to continue, He
1 So Josephus tells us (B. J. v. 5, § 6). It made those " who forced themselves
to look upon it at the first rising of the sun, to turn their eyes away, just as they
would have done at the sun's own rays." I came upon this spot in a walk from
Bethany, not at sunrise, but under a full moon, on the night of Wednesday in
Passion Week, April 14, 1870. I shall never forget the impression left by the
sudden sight of the city, with its domes and minarets and twinkling lights, as it
lay bathed in the Paschal moonlight.
2 Tac. Hist. v. 8.
3 John xi. 35, iSdxpvdsv ; Luke xix. 41, sxXavdsv.
4 Perhaps with a play on the name Jerusalem, which might recall (though not
derived from) &*># •1N"',„ " they shall see peace " (cf . Ps. cxxii. 6, 7). Such parono
masia? are not only consistent with, but the usual concomitants of, deep emotion.
See my Chapters On Language, pp. 269 — 276.

502 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
could only add, " but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the
days shall come upon thee that thine enemies shall cast a trench about
thee,1 and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and
shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee ;
and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another, because thou
knewest not the time of thy visitation." It was the last invitation
from " the Glory of God on the Mount of Olives," before that
Shechinah vanished from their eyes for ever."
Sternly, literally, terribly, within fifty years, was that prophecy
fulfilled. Four years before the war began, while as yet the city was
in the greatest peace and prosperity, a melancholy maniac traversed
its streets with the repeated cry, " A voice from the east, a voice from
the west, a voice from the four winds, a voice against Jerusalem and
the holy house, a voice against the bridegrooms and the brides, and
a voice against this whole people ; " nor could any scourgings or tor
tures wring from him any other words except " Woe ! woe ! to Jeru
salem ; woe to the city ; woe to the people.; woe to the holy house ! "
until seven years afterwards, during the siege, he was killed by a
stone from a catapult. His voice was but the renewed echo of the
voice of prophecy.
Titus had not originally wished to encompass the city, but he was
forced, by the despair and obstinacy of the Jews, to surround it,- first
with a palisaded mound, and then, when this vallum and agger were
destroyed, with a wall of masonry. He did not wish to sacrifice the
Temple — nay, he made every possible effort to save it — but he was
forced to leave it in ashes. He did not intend to be cruel to the
inhabitants, but the deadly fanaticism of their opposition so extin
guished all desire to spare them, that he undertook the task of well-
nigh exterminating the race- — of crucifying them by hundreds, of
exposing them in the amphitheatre by thousands, of selling them into
slavery by myriads. Josephus tells us that, even immediately after
the siege of Titus, no one, in the desert waste around him, would
have recognized the beauty of Judaea ; and that if any Jew had come
upon the city of a sudden, however well he had known it before, he
1 Luke xix. 43, xdpa£, "a palisade." (Cf. Isa. xxix. 3, 4 ; xxxvii. 33), properly
only the pali on the agger, but sometimes of the entire vallum (cf . Isa. xxxvii. 33,
LXX.). 2 Commenting on Ezek. xi. 23, the Rabbis said that the Shechinah retired east
ward to the Mount of Olives, and there for three years called in vain to the peo
ples with human voice that they should repent ; then withdrew for ever. (See
Wetstein, p. 459 ; Keim, iii. 93.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 503
would have asked " what place it was ? " ¦ And he who, in modern
Jerusalem, would look for relics of the ten-times-captured city of
the days of Christ, must look for them twenty feet beneath the soil,
and will scarcely find them. In one spot alone remain a few mass
ive substructions, as though to show how vast is the ruin they repre
sent ; and here, on every Friday, assemble a few poverty-stricken
Jews, to stand each in the shroud in which he will be buried,
and wail over the shattered glories of their fallen and desecrated
home." There had been a pause in the procession while Jesus shed His
bitter tears and uttered His prophetic lamentation. But now the
people in the valley of Kedron, and about the walls of Jerusalem, and
the pilgrims whose booths and tents stood so thickly on the green
slopes below, had caught sight of the approaching company, and
heard the echo of the glad shouts, and knew what the commotion
meant. At that time the palms were numerous in the neighborhood
of Jerusalem, though now but a few remain ; and tearing down their
green and graceful branches, the people streamed up the road to
meet the approaching Prophet.3 And when the two streams of peo
ple met — -those who had accompanied Him from Bethany, and those
who had come to meet Him from Jerusalem — they left Him riding
in the midst, and some preceding, some following Him, advanced,
shouting "Hosannas" and waving branches, to the gate of Jeru
salem. Mingled among the crowd were some of the Pharisees, and the
! B. J. vi. 1, § 1.
2 " Before my mind's eye," says Dr. Frankl, describing his first glimpse of Jeru
salem, "passed in review the deeds and the forms of former centuries. A voice
within me said, 'Graves upon graves in graves ! ' I was deeply moved, and, bowing
in my saddle before the city of Jehovah, tears fell upon my horse's mane " (Jews
in the East, i. 351).
3 John xii. 13, rd fiaia raov cpoivixaov, " the branches of the palm-trees," which
were familiar to St. John, and which, if the old derivation can stand, gave to
Bethany its name. The reading droifidSai ix raov dypaov in Mark xi. 8, though
supported by X, B, C, L, A , perhaps arose from the notion that dr. meant " grass."
Dean Stanley is the_first writer who seems accurately to have appreciated £he facts
and order of the triumphal entry (Sin. and Palest., pp. 189, seqq. See, too, Targ.
Esth. x. 15 — the streets strewn with myrtle before Mordecai; Herod, vii. 54). The
Maccabees were welcomed into Jerusalem with similar acclamations (2 Mace. x. 7).
In Kethubh. 1, 66, 2, we are told of robes outspread before Nakdimon, son of Gorion
(Keim, iii. 90). A singular illustration of the faithfulness and accuracy of the
Evangelists was given by the wholly accidental and unpremeditated re-enactment
of the very same scene when Mr. Farran, the English consul of Damascus, visited
Jerusalem at a time of great distress, in 1834.

504 THE LIFE OF OHRIST.
joy of the multitude was to them gall and wormwood. What meant
these Messianic cries and kingly titles ? Were they not dangerous
and unseemly ? Why did He allow them ? " Master, rebuke Thy.
disciples." But He would not do so. " If these should hold their
peace," He said, "the stones would immediately cry out." The
words may have recalled to them the threats which occur, amid
denunciations against covetousness and cruelty, and the utter destruc
tion by which they should be avenged, in the prophet Habakkuk —
" For the stone shall cry out of the wall, and the beam out of the
timber shall answer it." The Pharisees felt that they were power
less to stay the fiood of enthusiasm.
And when they reached the walls the whole city was stirred with
powerful excitement and alarm.1 "Who is this?" they asked, as
they leaned out of the lattices and from the roofs, and stood aside in
the bazaars and streets to let them pass ; and the multitude answered,
with something of pride in their great countryman — but already, as
it were, with a shadow of distrust falling over their high Messianic
hopes, as they came in contact with the contempt and hostility of the
capital - — " This is Jesus, the Prophet of Nazareth."
The actual procession would not proceed farther than the foot of
Mount Moriah (the Har ha-beit, Isa. ii. 2), beyond which they might
not advance in travelling array, or with dusty feet." Before they
had reached the Shushan gate of the Temple they dispersed, and
Jesus entered. The Lord whom they sought had come suddenly to
His Temple — even the messenger of the covenant ; but they neither
recognized Him, nor delighted in Him, though His first act was to
purify and purge it, that they might offer to the Lord an offering in
righteousness.3 As He looked round on all things* His heart was
1 idei'dO?? (Matt. xxi. 10 ; cf. xxviii. 4). Perhaps they recalled the attempt made
upon Jerusalem by " that Egyptian " (Acts xxi. 38).
2 Berach. ix. 5, quoted by Lightfoot.
3 Mai. iii. 1—3.
4 I follow the order of St. Matthew, in preference to that of St. Mark, in fixing
the cleansing of the Temple on Palm Sunday, and immediately after the triumphal
entry ; and for these reasons : (1) because it is most unlikely that Jesus started
late in the day ; it would be very hot, even in that season of the year, and contrary
to His usual habits. (2) If, then, He started early, and did not leave the Temple
till late (Mark xi. 11), there is uo indication of how the day was spent (for the
journey to Jerusalem would not occupy more, at the very most, than two hours),
unless we suppose that the incidents narrated iu the text took place on the Sun
day, as both St. Matthew, St. Luke, and St. John seem to imply. (3) The cleansing
of the Temple would be a much more natural sequel of the triumphal entry, than
of the quiet walk next day. (4) There is no adequate reason to account for the
postponement of such a purification of the Temple till the following dav.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 505
again moved within Him to strong indignation. Three years before,
at His first Passover, He- had cleansed the Temple ; but, alas ! in
vain. Already greed had won the battle against reverence ; already,
the tessellated floors and pillared colonnades of the Court of the Gen
tiles had been again usurped by droves of oxen and sheep, and dove-
sellers, and usurers, and its whole precincts were dirty with driven
cattle, and echoed to the hum of bargaining voices and the clink of
gold.1 In that desecrated place He would not teach. Once more,
in mingled sorrow and anger, He drove them forth, while none dared
to resist His burning zeal ; nor would He even suffer the peaceful
enclosure to be disturbed by people passing to and fro with vessels,
and so turning it into a thoroughfare. The dense crowd of Jews —
numbering, it is said, three millions — who crowded to the Holy City
in the week of the feast, no doubt made the Court of the Gentiles
a worse and busier scene on that day than at any other time, and the
more so because on that day, according to the law, the Paschal lamb
— which the visitors would be obliged to purchase — was chosen and
set apart." But no considerations of their business and convenience
could make it tolerable that they should turn His Father's house,
which was a house of prayer for all nations, into a place most like
one of those foul caves which He had seen so often in the Wady
Hammam, where brigands wrangled over their ill-gotten spoils.3
Not till He had reduced the Temple to decency and silence could
He begin His customary ministrations. Doubtless the task was
1 The vast throng of foreign pilgrims, and the necessity laid on them of chang
ing their foreign coinage, with its heathen symbols, for the shekel hakkodesh,
"half-shekel, after the shekel of the sanctuary" (Exod. xxx. 13), would make
the trade of these men at this time a very thriving one : their agio was a twelfth
of each shekel. The presence of these money-makers distinctly contravened the
law of Zech. xiv. 21, where Canaanite = merchant. See supra, p. 161, n.
5 Exod. xii. 1—5. For the "booths" in the Temple Court, see Lightfoot on
Matt. xxi. 12.
3 ditijXaior Xydraov (Mordergrube, Luther) is much stronger than "den of
thieves ; " and if the " House of Prayer " reminded them of Jer. vii. 6, as well as
Isa. lvi. 7, it would recall ideas of "innocent blood," as well as of greedy gain.
The Temple was destined in a few more years to become yet more emphatically
a " murderer's cave," when the sicarii made it the scene of their atrocities.
" The sanctuary," says Josephus (B. J. iv. 3, § 7), " was now become a refuge, and
a shop of tyranny." " Certainly," says Ananus in his speech, " it had been good
for me to die before I had seen the house of God full of so many abominations, or
these sacred places, that ought not to be trodden upon at random, filled with the
feet of these blood-shedding villains " (id. % 10). " When any of the Zealots were
wounded, he went up into the Temple, and defiled that sacred floor with his
blood " (id. § 12). " To say all in a word, no passion was so entirely lost among
them as mercy " (id. iv. 6, § 3).
64

506 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
easier, because it had already been ence performed. But when the
miserable hubbub was over, then the Temple resumed what should
have been its normal aspect. Sufferers came to Him, and He healed
them. Listeners in hundreds thronged round Him, were astonished
at His doctrine, hung upon His lips.1 The very children of the
Temple, in their innocent delight, continued the glad Hosannas which
had welcomed Him. The Chief Priests, and Scribes, and Pharisees,
and leading people saw, and despised, and wondered, and perished.
They could but gnash their teeth in their impotence, daring to do
nothing, saying to each other that they could do nothing, for the
whole world had gone after Him, yet hoping still that their hour
would come, and the power of darkness. If they ventured to say
one word to Him, they had to retire abashed and frustrated by His
calm reply. They angrily called His attention to the cry of the
boys in the Temple courts, and said, " Hearest Thou what these say ? "
Perhaps they were boys employed in the musical services of the
Temple, and if so the priestly party would be still more enraged.
But Jesus calmly protected the children from their unconcealed
hatred. "Yea," He answered, "have ye never read, Out of the
mouths of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected praise ? " "
So in high discourse, amid the vain attempts of His enemies to
annoy and hinder Him, the hours of that memorable day passed by.
And it was marked by one more deeply interesting incident. Struck
by all they had seen and ¦ heard, some Greeks — probably Jewish
proselytes attracted to Jerusalem by the feast — came to Philip, and
asked him to procure for them a private interview with Jesus.3
Chaldseans from the East had sought His cradle ; these Greeks from
the West came to His cross.4 Who they were, and why they sought
Him, we know not. An interesting tradition, but one on which
unfortunately we can lay no stress, says that they were emissaries
from Abgarus Y., King of Edessa, who, having been made aware of
the miracles of Jesus, and of the dangers to which He was now
exposed, sent these emissaries to offer Him an asylum in his domin-
1 Luke xix. 48, 6 Xadi ydp ditai i^sxpE'paro avrov dxovaov :333 cf. Virg.
^En. iv. 79, " peudebat ab ore." 334
9 Ps. viii. 2. Did they recall the sequel of the verse, " because of Thine enemies,
that Thou mightest Btill the enemy and the avenger ? " Similar emotional out
bursts of children are adduced by Schottgen.
3 John xii. 20—50.
4 Stier ad loc They are called "EXXrjvEi, and were therefore Gentiles, not
EXXrjvidrai (cf . Acts xvi. 1 ; John vii. 35), or Greek-speaking Jews. In the Syriac
version they are called Aramaeans. That they were proselytes appears from John
xii. 20 (comp. Acts viii. 27).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 507
ions. The legend adds that, though Jesus declined the offer, He
rewarded the faith of Abgarus by writing him a letter, and healing
him of a sickness.1
St. John mentions nothing of these, circumstances; he does not
even tell us why these Greeks came to Philip in particular. As
Bethsaida was the native town of this apostle, and' as many Jews at
this period had adopted Gentile appellations, especially those which ¦
were current in the family of Herod, we cannot attach much impor
tance to the Greek form of his name." It is an interesting indication
of the personal awe which the Apostles felt for their Master, that
Philip did not at once venture to grant their request. He went and
consulted his fellow-townsman Andrew, and the two Apostles then
made known the wish of the Greeks to Jesus. Whether they
actually introduced the inquirers into His presence we cannot tell, but
at any rate He saw in the incident a fresh sign that the hour was come
when His name should be glorified. His answer was to the effect
that as a grain of wheat must die before it can bring forth fruit, so
the road to His glory lay through humiliation, and they who would
follow Him must be prepared at all times to follow Him even to
death. As He contemplated that approaching death, the human
horror of it struggled with the ardor of His obedience ; and conscious
that to face that dread hour was to conquer it, He cried, " Father,
glorify Thy name ! " Then for the third time in His life came a
voice from heaven, which said, " I have both glorified it, and will
glorify it again." 3 St. John frankly tells us that that Yoice did not
1 The apocryphal letter of Abgarus to Christ is given by Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. i.
13), who professes to derive it from Syriac documents preserved at Edessa, and
quoted by Moses Chorenensis (Hist. Arm. ii. 28). (Herzog, Bibl. Enaykl. s. v.
" Abgar.") The letter and reply are probably as old as the third century. Abgar
says that having heard of His miracles, and thence concluded His Divine nature,
" I have written to ask of Thee that Thou couldest trouble Thyself to come to me,
and heal this sickness which I have. For I have also heard that the Jews
murmur against Thee, and wish to injure Thee. Now I have a small and beauti
ful city which is sufficient for both." The reply, which is almost entirely
couched in Scriptural language, begins with an allusion to John xx. 29, and after
declining the king's offer, adds, " When I am taken up, I will send thee one of
my disciples to heal thy sickness ; he shall also give salvation to thee and to them
that are with thee." (B. H. Cowper, Apocr. Gosp., p. 220 ; Hofmann, Leben Jesu
noch d. Apocr., p. 308.) The disease was, according to Cedrenus (Hist. p. 145),
leprosy, and according to Procopius (De Bell. Pers. ii. 12) the gout.
2 Lange (iv. 54) notices the tradition that Philip afterwards labored in Phrygia,
and Andrew in Greece.
3 John xii. 28, xai eSo^ada xai itaXiv So^ddoo. On the previous passage see
the excellent remarks of Stier. (Vide supr., pp. 110, 3S3.)

508 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
sound alike to all. The common multitude took it but for a passing
peal of thunder ; others said, " An angel spake to Him ; " the Yoice
was articulate only to the few. But Jesus told them that the Yoice
was for their sakes, not for His ; for the judgment of the world, its
conviction of sin by the Holy Spirit, was now at hand, and the Prince
of this world ' should be cast out. He should be lifted up, like the
brazen serpent in the wilderness," and when so exalted He should
draw all men unto Him. The people were perplexed at these dark
allusions. They asked Him what could be the meaning of His say
ing that " the Son of Man should be lifted up ? " If it meant vio
lently taken away by a death of shame, how could this be ? Was
not the Son of Man a title of the Messiah ? and did not the prophet
imply that the reign of Messiah would be eternal ? 3 The true answer
to their query could only be received by spiritual hearts — they were
unprepared for it, and would only have been offended and shocked
by it ; therefore Jesus did not answer them. He only bade them
walk in the light during the very little while that it should still remain
with them, and so become the children of light. He was come as a
light into the world, and the words which He spake should judge
those who rejected Him ; for those words — every brief answer, every
long discourse — were from the Father; sunbeams from the Father
of Lights ; life-giving rays from the Life Eternal.4
But all these glorious and healing truths were dull to blinded eyes,
and dead to hardened hearts ; and even the few of higher rank and
wider culture who partially understood and partially believed them,
yet dared not confess Him, because to confess Him was to incur the
terrible cherem of the Sanhedrin ; and this they would not face —
loving the praise of men more than the praise of God.
Thus a certain sadness and sense of rejection fell even on the even
ing of the Day of Triumph'. It was not safe for Jesus to stay in the

1 The Jewish Sar ha-Olam ; he whom St. Paul calls "the god of this world"
(2 Cor. iv. 4). The Greek xodpoi corresponds to the Hebrew olamim or "aeons."
The Jews, unlike the Greeks, did not so much regard the outward beauty of Crea
tion, as its inward significance ; for them the interest of the Universe " centered
rather in the moral than in the physical order " (Westcott, Introd. i. 25). (See
Eph. ii. 2.) A Mussulman title of God is " Lord of the (three) worlds " (Rabb al
alamin). 2 Comp. John iii. 14; viii. 28. Cf. "Adolescentem laudandum, ornandum, tollen-
dum, " m (Letter of Dec Brutus to Cicero, Epp. ad Div. xi. 20).
3 " The Law " is here a general term for the Old Testament. The reference is
to Ps. lxxxix. 36 ; comp. John x. 34.
4 John xii. 44^50, verse 49, SsSaoxs ri eiitao (de sermone brevi, 1DX) xai ri
XaXijdao (de copioso, "Hi). (Bengel.) The ex pais (verse 44) points to th»T impor
tance of the utterance. Cf. John vii. 28, 37; xi. 43.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 509
city, nor was it in accordance with His wishes. He retired secretly
from the Temple, hid Himself from His watchful enemies, and, pro
tected as yet outside the city walls by the enthusiasm of His Galilsean
followers, " went out unto Bethany with the Twelve." But it is very
probable that while He bent His steps in the direction of Bethany,
He did not actually enter the village; for, on this occasion, His
object seems to have been concealment, which would hardly have
been secured by returning to the well-known house where so many
had seen Him at the banquet on the previous evening. It is more
likely that He sought shelter with His disciples by the olive-sprinkled
slope of the hill,1 not far from the spot where the roads meet which
lead to the little village. He was not unaccustomed to nights in the
open air, and He and the Apostles, wrapped in their outer garments,
could sleep soundly and peacefully on the green grass under the shel
tering trees. The shadow of the traitor fell on Him and on that
little band. Did he too sleep as calmly as the rest ? Perhaps : for
" remorse may disturb the slumbers of a man who is dabbling with
his first experiences of wrong ; and when the pleasure has been tasted
and is gone, and nothing is left of the crime but the ruin which it
has wrought, then too the Furies take their seats upon the midnight
pillow. But the meridian of evil is, for the most part, left unvexed ;
and when a man has chosen his road, he is left alone to follow it to
the end." "

1 The TfvXidBr} ixsi of Matt. xxi. 17 does not necessarily imply that He bivou
acked in the open air. It is, however, very probable that He did so ; for (1) such
is the proper meaning of the word (comp. Judg. xix. 15, 20). (2) St. Luke says,
r/vXiZsro sii rd opoi rd xaXovpsvov 'EXaiaov (xxi. 37). (3) It was His cus
tom to resort for the night to Gethsemane^ where, so far as we are aware, there
was no house. (4) The retiring to Bethany would hardly answer to the ixpvfii]
dit avraov of John xii. 36.
2 Froude, Hist, of Engl. viii. 30.

510 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER L.
MONDAY IN PASSION WEEK  A DAT OF PARABLES.
" Apples of gold in pictures of silver." — Pbov. xxv. 11.
Rising from His bivouac in the neighborhood of Bethany while it
was still early, Jesus returned at once to the city and the Temple ;
and on His way He felt hungry. Monday and Thursday were kept
by the scrupulous religionists of the day as voluntary fasts, and to
this the Pharisee alludes when he says in the Parable, "I fast twice
in the week." But this fasting was a mere " work of supererogation,"
neither commanded nor sanctioned by the Law or the Prophets, and
it was alien alike to the habits and precepts of One who came, not
by external asceticisms, but with absolute self -surrender, to ennoble
by Divine sinlessness the common life of men. It may be that in
His compassionate eagerness to teach His people, He had neglected
the common wants of life ; it may be that there were no means of
procuring food in the fields where He had spent the night ; it may
be again that the hour of prayer and morning sacrifice had not yet
come, before which the Jews did not usually take a meal. But,
whatever may have been the cause, Jesus hungered, so as to be driven
to look for wayside fruit to sustain and refresh Him for the day's
work. A few dates or figs, a piece of Mack bread, a draught of
water, are sufficient at any time for an Oriental's simple meal.
There are trees in abundance even now throughout this region,
but not the numerous palms, and figs, and walnut-trees which made
the vicinity of Jerusalem like one umbrageous park, before they
were cut down by Titus, in the operations of the siege. Fig-trees
especially were planted by the roadside, because the dust was thought
to facilitate their growth,1 and their refreshing fruit was common
property. At a distance in front of Him Jesus caught sight of a
solitary fig-tree," and although the ordinary season at which figs
1 Plin Hist. Nat. xv. 21, quoted by Meyer. On the right to pluck fruit, see
Deut. xxiii. 24.
2 dvxrjv piav (Matt. xxi. 19), " a single fig-tree." Compare, however, pia
itaiSidxrf (xxvi. 69). The ei dpa ri evprjdsi iv avry (Mark xi. 13) implies a
shade of surprise at the exceptional forwardness of the tree.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 51 1
ripened had not yet arrived, yet, as it was clad with verdure, and as
the fruit of a fig sets before the leaves unfold, this tree looked more
than usually promising. Its rich large leaves seemed to show that it
was fruitful, and their unusually early growth that it was not only
fruitful but precociously vigorous. There was every chance, there
fore, of finding upon it either the late violet-colored kermouses, or
autumn figs, that often remained hanging on the trees all through
the winter, and even until the new spring leaves had come ; ' or the
delicious bakkooroth, the first ripe on the fig-tree, of which Orientals
are particularly fond. " The difficulty raised about St. Mark's expres
sion, that " the time of figs was not yet," 3 is wholly needless. On
the plains of Gennesareth Jesus must have been accustomed — if
we may trust Josephus — to see the figs hanging ripe on the trees
every month in the year excepting January and February ; 4 and
there is to this day, in Palestine, a kind of white or early fig which
ripens in spring, and much before the ordinary or black fig." On
many grounds, therefore, Jesus might well have expected to find a
few figs to satisfy the cravings of hunger on this fair-promising leafy
tree, although the ordinary fig-season had not yet arrived.
But when He came up to it, He was disappointed. The sap was
circulating; the leaves made a fair show; but of fruit there was
none. Fit emblem of a hypocrite, whose external semblance is a
delusion and sham — fit emblem of the nation in whom the ostenta
tious profession of religion brought forth no " fruit of good living " —
the tree was barren. And it was hopelessly barren ; for had it been
fruitful the previous year, there would still have been some of the
kermouses hidden under those broad leaves ; and had it been fruitful
this year, the bakkooroth would have set into green and delicious
fragrance before the leaves appeared ; but on this fruitless tree there
was neither any promise for the future, nor any gleanings from the
past. ' Plin. H. N. xvi. 27, " Seri fructus per hiemeni in arbore manent, et aestate
inter novas frondes et folia maturescunt" 336 (comp. Colum. De Arbor, 21). Ebrard
says that it is doubtful whether this applied to Palestine (Gosp. Hist., p. 376, E.
Tr.) ; but it certainly did, as is shown by the testimony of travellers and of Jew
ish writers. The green or unripe fig (JQ, pagh) is only mentioned in Cant. ii. 13.
2 nVTOIil (Hos. ix. 10; Isa. xxviii. 4; Nah. iii. 12 ; Jer. xxiv. 2, "Very good figs,
even like the figs that are first ripe ").
3 There is no need whatever to render this, " it was no favorable weather for
figs," " not a good fig year."
4 B. J. iii. 10, § 8.
5 Dr. Thomson, author of The Land and the Book, tells us that he has eaten
these figs as early as April or May,

512 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
And therefore, since it was but deceptive and useless, a barren
cumberer of the ground, He made it the eternal warning against a
life of hypocrisy continued until it is too late, and, in the hearing of
His disciples, uttered upon it the solemn fiat, " Never fruit grow
upon thee more ! " Even at the word, such infructuous life as it
- possessed was arrested, and it began to wither away.
The criticisms upon this miracle have been singularly idle and sin
gularly irreverent, because they have been based for the most part
on ignorance or on prejudice. By those who reject the divinity of
Jesus, it has been called a penal miracle, a miracle of vengeance, a
miracle of unworthy anger, a childish exhibition of impatience under
disappointment, an uncultured indignation against innocent Nature.
No one, I suppose, who believes that the story represents a real and
miraculous fact, will daringly arraign the motives of Him who per
formed it ; but many argue that this is an untrue and mistaken story,
because it narrates what they regard as an unworthy display of anger
at a slight disappointment, and as a miracle of destruction which vio
lated the rights of the supposed owner of the tree, or of the multi
tude. But, as to the first objection, surely it is amply enough to say
that every page of the New Testament shows the impossibility of
imagining that the Apostles and Evangelists had so poor and false a
conception of Jesus as to believe that He avenged His passing dis
pleasure on an irresponsible object. Would He who, at the Tempter's
bidding, refused to satisfy His wants by turning the stones of the
wilderness into bread, be represented as having " flown into a rage "
¦ — no other expression is possible — with an unconscious tree? An
absurdity so irreverent might have been found in the Apocryphal
Gospels ; but had the Evangelists been capable of perpetuating it,
then, most unquestionably, they could have had neither the capacity
nor the desire to paint that Divine and Eternal portrait of the Lord
Jesus, which their knowledge of the truth, and the aid of God's Holy
Spirit, enabled them to present to the world for ever, as its most
priceless possession. And as for the withering of the tree, has the
householder of the parable been ever severely censured because he
said of his barren fig-tree, " Cut it down, why cumbereth it the
ground ? " Has St. John the Baptist been ever blamed for violence
and destructiveness because he cried, "And now. also the axe is laid
unto the root of the tree : every tree, therefore, which bringeth not
forth good fruit, is hewn down and cast into the fire ? " Or has the
ancient Prophet been charged with misrepresenting the character of
God, when he says, "I, the Lord, have dried up the green tree," ' as
' Ezek. xvii. 24.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 513
well as " made the dry tree to flourish ? " When the hail beats down
the tendrils of the vineyard — when the lightning scathes the olive,
or "splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak" — do any but the
utterly ignorant and brutal begin at once to blaspheme against God ?
Is it a crime under any circumstances to destroy a useless tree ? if
not, is it more a crime to do so by miracle? Why, then, is the Sav
iour of the world — to whom Lebanon would be. too little for a
burnt-offering — to be blamed by petulent critics because He has
tened the withering of one barren tree, and founded, on the destruc
tion of its uselessness, three eternal lessons — a symbol of the destruc
tion of impenitence, a warning of the peril of hypocrisy, an illustra
tion of the power of faith ? '
They went on their way, and, as usual, entered the Temple ; and
scarcely had they entered it, when they were met by another indica
tion of the intense incessant spirit of opposition which actuated the
rulers of Jerusalem." A formidable deputation approached them,
imposing alike in its numbers and its stateliness.3 The chief priests
— heads of the twenty-four courses — the learned scribes, the leading
rabbis, representatives of all the constituent classes of the Sanhedrin
were there, to overawe Him — whom they despised as the poor igno
rant Prophet of despicable Nazareth — with all that was venerable in
age, eminent in wisdom, or imposing in authority in the great Coun-

1 The many-sided symbolism of the act would have been much more vividly
apparent to those more familiar than ourselves with the ancient prophets (see
Hos. ix. 10 ; Joel i. 7 ; Micah vii. 1). " Even here," says Professor Westcott, " in
the moment of sorrowful disappointment, as He turned to His disciples, the word
of judgment became a word of promise. ' Have faith in God, and whatsoever
things ye desire when ye pray, believe that ye received them (iXdflsrs) ' —
received them already as the inspiration of the wish — ' and ye shall have them ' "
(Charact. of the Gosp. Miracles, p. 25). I have dwelt at some length on this
miracle, because to some able and honest thinkers it presents a real difficulty.
Those who do not see in it the lessons which I have indicated (of which the first
two are only implied, not formulated, in the Gospels), regard it as a literal con
struction of an illustrative metaphor — sparable of the power of faith (cf. Luke
xxiii. 31 ; Rev. vi. 13 ; and the Koran, Sura 95) which has got mythically devel
oped into a miracle. Better this, than that it should lead them to unworthy views
of " Him whom the Father hath sent;" but if the above views be right, the diffi
culty does not seem to me by any means insuperable.
2 It will be observed that I am following in the main the order of the eye-wit
ness, St. Matthew, who, however, pauses to finish the story of the fig-tree, the
sequel of which belongs to the next day. It is, however, clear the itapaxpf/pa
of St. Matthew is only used relatively.
3 Mark xi. 27, itepiitarovvroi avrov; Luke xx. 1, iitidrt]dav (cf. Acts iv.
1 ; vi. 12 ; xxiii. 27). I have already (p. 461) noticed St. Luke's use of this word
tq imply something sudden or hostile.
65

514 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
cil of the nation. The people whom He was engaged in teachmg
made reverent way for them, lest they should pollute those floating
robes and ample fringes with a touch ; and when they had arranged
themselves around Jesus, they sternly and abruptly asked Him, " By
what authority doest thou these things, and who gave thee this
authority ? " They demanded of Him His warrant for thus publicly
assuming the functions of Rabbi and Prophet, for riding into Jeru
salem amid the hosannas of attendant crowds, for purging the Tem
ple of the traffickers, at whose presence they connived ? '
The answer surprised and confounded them. With that infinite
presence of mind, of which the world's history furnishes no parallel,
and which remained calm under the worst assaults, Jesus told them
that the answer to their question depended on the answer which they
were prepared to give to His question. " The baptism of John, was
it from heaven, or of men ? " A sudden pause followed. " Answer
me," said Jesus, interrupting their whispered colloquy. And surely
they, who had sent a commission to inquire publicly into the claims
of John, were in a position to answer. But no answer came. They
knew full well the import of the question. They could not for a
moment put it aside as irrelevant. John had openly and emphati
cally testified to Jesus, had acknowledged Him, before their own dep
uties, not only as a Prophet, but as a Prophet far greater than him
self — nay, more, as the Prophet, the Messiah. Would they recog
nize that authority, or would they not? Clearly Jesus had a right to
demand their reply to that question before He could reply to theirs.
But they could not, or rather they would not answer that question.
It reduced them in fact to a complete dilemma. They would not
say "from heaven" because they had in heart rejected it ; they dared
not say " of men," because the belief in John (as we see even in
Josephus) was so vehement and so ^unanimous that openly to reject
him would have been to endanger their personal safety." They were
reduced, therefore — they, the masters of Israel — to the ignominious
necessity of saying, " We cannot tell."
There is an admirable Hebrew proverb which says, " Teach thy

1 Mark xi. 27—33 ; Matt. xxi. 23—27 ; Luke xx. 1—8. The Sanhedrin had sent
a similar deputation to John the Baptist, but in a less hostile spirit (v. supra,
p. 109).
2 Jos. Antt. xviii. 5, §2; Luke xx. 6. The iteiteidps'voi shows the permanence
of the conviction ; the xaraXiBddsi (which is used here only) the violent tumult
which would have been caused by a denial of John's position as a prophet. Wet
stein quotes from Donat. ad Ter. Eun. v. 5, 11, a most apposite parallel, where
Parmenio, unable to deny, and unwilling to admit, protects himself by a " nescio."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 515
tongue to say, ' I do not know.' " 1 But to say " We do not know,"
in this instance, was a thing utterly alien to their habits, disgraceful to
their discernment, a death-blow to their pretensions. It was ignorance
in a sphere wherein ignorance was for them inexcusable. They, the
appointed explainers of the Law — they, the accepted teachers of the
people -^ they, the acknowledged monopolizers of Scriptural learning
and oral tradition — and yet to be compelled, against their real con
victions, to say, and that before the multitude, that they could not
tell whether a man of immense and sacred influence — a man who
acknowledged the Scriptures which they explained, and carried into
practice the customs which they reverenced — was a divinely inspired
messenger or a deluding impostor ! Were the lines of demarcation,
then, between the inspired Prophet (nabi) and the wicked seducer
(mesith) so dubious and indistinct ? It was indeed a fearful humilia
tion, and one which they never either forgot or forgave ! And yet
how just was the retribution which they had thus brought on their
own heads. The curses which they had intended for another had
recoiled upon themselves ; the pompous question which was to be an
engine wherewith another should be crushed, had sprung back with
sudden rebound, to their own confusion and shame.
> Jesus did not press upon their discomfiture, though He well
knew — as the form of His answer showed — that their "do not
know," was a " do not choose to say." Since, however, their failure
to answer clearly absolved Him from any necessity to tell them
further of an authority about which, by their own confession, they
were totally incompetent to decide, He ended the scene by simply
saying, " Neither tell I you by what authority I do these things."
So they retired a little into the background. He continued the
instruction of the people which they had interrupted, and began
once more to speak to them in parables, which both the multitude
and the members of the Sanhedrin who were present could hardly
fail to understand. And He expressly called their attention to what
He was about to say. " What think ye ? " He asked, for now it is
their turn to submit to be questioned ; and then, telling them of the
two sons, of whom the one first flatly refused his father's bidding, -
but afterwards repented and did it, the other blandly promised an
obedience which he never performed, He asked, "Which of these
two did his father's will ? " They could but answer, " the first ; "
and He then pointed out to them the plain and solemn meaning of
1 -jrft yj'K -ibt6 f|Jie6 "is!?.

516 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
their own answer. It was, that the very publicans and harlots,
despite the apparent open shamelessness of their disobedience, were
yet showing them — them, the scrupulous and highly reputed legal
ists of the holy nation — the way into the kingdom of heaven. Yes,
these sinners, whom they despised and hated, were streaming before
them through the door which was not yet shut. For John had come
to these Jews on their own principles and in their own practices,1
and they had pretended to receive him, but had not ; but the publi
cans and the harlots had repented at his bidding. For all then broad
fringes and conspicuous phylacteries, they — > the priests, the separa
tists, the Rabbis of these people — were worse in the sight of God
than sinners whom they would have scorned to touch with one of
then fingers.
Then He bade them " hear another parable," the parable of the
rebellious husbandmen in the vineyard, whose fruits they would not
yield. That vineyard of the Lord of Hosts was the house of Israel,
and the men of Judah were his pleasant plants ; " and they, the leaders
and teachers, were those to whom the Lord of the vineyard would
naturally look for the rendering of the produce. But in spite of all
that He had done for His vineyard, there were no grapes, or only
wild grapes. " He looked for judgment, but behold oppression ; for
righteousness, but behold a cry." And since they could not render
any produce, and dared not own the barren fruitlessness for which
they, the husbandmen, were responsible, they insulted, and beat, and
wounded, and slew messenger after messenger whom the Lord of
the vineyard sent to them. Last of all, He sent His Son, and that
Son — though they recognized Him, and could not but recognize
Him — they beat, and flung forth, and slew. When the Lord of the
vineyard came, what would He do to them ? Either the people, out
of honest conviction, or the listening Pharisees, to show their appar
ent contempt for what they could not fail to see was the point of the
parable, answered that He would wretchedly destroy those wretches,
and let out the vineyard to worthier and more faithful husbandmen.
A second time they had been compelled to an admission, which fatally,
out of their own mouths, condemned themselves ; they had confessed
with their own lips that it would be in accordance with God's justice
to deprive them of their exclusive rights, and to give them to the
Gentiles.

1 Matt. xxi. 28 — 32, iv SSap Sixaiodvvrji, minute obedience to the Law, the
"57? ^172 of Prov. xvi. 31, &c. (Stier, iii. 113.)
2 Matt. xxi. 33—46 ; Mark xii. 1—12 ; Luke xx. 9—19 ; Isa. v. 1—7 ; Ps. lxxx.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 517
And to show them that their own Scriptures had prophesied of
this their conduct, He asked them whether they had never read (in the
118th Psalm *) of the stone which the builders rejected, which never
theless, by the marvellous purpose of God, became the headstone of
the corner ? How could they remain builders any longer, when the
whole design of their workmanship was thus deliberately overruled
and set aside ? Did not their old Messianic prophecy clearly imply
that God would call other builders to the work of His Temple ? Woe
to them who even stumbled — as they were doing — at that rejected
stone; but even yet there was time for them to avoid the more
crushing annihilation of those on whom that stone should fall. To
reject Him in His humanity and humiliation involved pain and loss ;
but to be found still rejecting Him when He should come again in
His glory, would not this be "utter destruction from the presence of
the Lord ? " To sit on the seat of judgment and condemn Him —
this should be ruin to them and their nation ; but to be condemned
by Him, would not this be to be " ground to powder ? " "
. They saw now, more clearly than ever, the whole bent and drift of
these parables, and longed for the hour of vengeance ! But, as yet,
fear restrained them ; for, to the multitude, Christ was still a prophet.
One more warning utterance He spoke on this Day of Parables —
the Parable of the Marriage of the King's Son. In its basis and
framework it closely resembled the Parable of the Great Supper
uttered, during His last journey, at a Pharisee's house ; but in many
of its details, and in its entire conclusion, it was different. Here the
ungrateful subjects who receive the invitation, not only make light
of it, and pursue undisturbed their worldly avocations, but some of
them actually insult and murder the messenger who had invited them,
and — a point at which the history merges into prophecy — are
destroyed and their city burned. And the rest of the story points to
yet further scenes, pregnant with still deeper meanings.3 Others are
1 Comp. Isa. xxviii. 16 ; Dan. ii. 44 ; Acts iv. 11 ; Eph. ii. 20 ; 1 Pet. ii. 6, 7.
Leaders of the people are called pinndth in Judg. xx. 2, &c. Stier points out that
this was the Psalm from which the Hosanna of the multitude was taken (iii.
125). The " head of the corner " (»«i or ¦">« ?¦?«, xecpaXrj yaoviai or XiBoi
dxpoy Goviaioi) is the chief or foundation stone, sometimes placed at the angle
of a building, and so binding two walls together. The avrrj of Matt. xxi. 42 (Ps.
cxviii. 23, LXX.) means "this doing," and is a Hebraism for rovro (flNi) as in
1 Sam. iv. 7, LXX.
2 Dan. ii. 34—44.
8 The servants are ordered to go to the Sie£68oi of the roads, to search for fresh
guests, but we are only told that they went into the oSoi (Matt. xxii. 9, 10) ; this
delicate " reference to the imperfect work of human agents " is lost in our version.
(Lightfoot, Revision, p. 68.)

518 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
invited; the wedding-feast is furnished with guests both bad and
good; the king comes in, and notices cl>e who had thrust himself -
into the company in his own rags, without providing or accepting
the wedding garment, which the commonest courtesy required.1
This rude, intruding, presumptuous guest is cast forth by attendant
angels into outer darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of
teeth ; and then follows, for the last time, the warning urged in vary
ing similitudes, with a frequency commensurate to its importance,
that " many are called, but few are chosen." "
Teachings so obvious in their import filled the minds of the lead
ing Priests and Pharisees with a more and more bitter rage. He had
begun the day by refusing to answer their dictatorial question, and
by more than justifying that refusal. His counter-question had not
only shown His calm superiority to the influence which they so
haughtily exercised over the people, but had reduced them to the
ignominious silence of an hypocrisy, which was forced to shield itself
under the excuse of incompetence. Then followed His parables.
In the first of these He had convicted them of false professions, un
accompanied by action ; in the second, He had depicted the trust and
responsibility of their office, and had indicated a terrible retribution
for its cruel and profligate abuse ; in the third, He had indicated alike
the punishment which would ensue upon a violent rejection of His
invitations, and the impossibility of deceiving the eye of His Heavenly
Father by a mere nominal and pretended acceptance. Lying lip-
service, faithless rebellion, blind presumption, such were the sins
which He had striven to bring home to their consciences. And this
was but a superficial outline of all the heart-searching power with
which His words had been to them like a sword of the Spirit, piercing
even to the dividing of the joints and marrow. But to bad men
nothing is so maddening as the exhibition of their own self-decep
tion. So great was the hardly-concealed fury of the Jewish hierarchy,
that they would gladly have seized Him that very hour. Fear re
strained them, and He was suffered to retire unmolested to His quiet
resting-place. But, either that night or early on the following morn
ing, His enemies held another council — at this time they seem to
have held them almost daily — to see if they could not make one
more combined, systematic, overwhelming effort " to entangle Him
1 Zeph. i. 8.
2 See Matt. vii. 13, 14 ; xix. 30 ; xx. 16. Those who cast forth the intruder are
Sidxovoi, " ministers," here representing angels ; not the SovXoi. " Slaves " are
human messengers of the earlier part of the parable, though rendered in our ver
sion by the same word.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 519
in His talk," to convict Him of ignorance or of error, to shake His
credit with the multitude, or embroil Him in dangerous relations
towards the civil authority. We shall see in the following chapter
the result of their machinations.

520 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER LI.
THE DAT OF TEMPTATIONS  THE LAST AND GREATEST DAT OF THE
PUBLIC MINISTRT OF JESUS.
"And the door was shut." — Matt. xxv. 10.
On the following morning Jesus rose with His disciples to enter
for the last time the Temple Courts. On their way they passed the
solitary fig-tree, no longer gay with its false leafy garniture, but
shrivelled, from the root upwards, in every bough. The quick eye
of Peter was the first to notice it, and he exclaimed, " Master, behold
the fig-tree which thou cursedst is withered away." The disciples
stopped to look at it, and to express their astonishment at the rapidity
with which the denunciation had been fulfilled. What struck them
most was the power of Jesus ; the deeper meanings of His symbolic
act they seem for the time to have missed ; and, leaving these lessons
to dawn upon them gradually, Jesus addressed the mood of their minds
at the moment, and told them that if they would but have faith in God
— faith which should enable them to offer up their prayers with perfect
and unwavering confidence — they should not only be able to perform
such a wonder as that done to the fig-tree, but even " if they bade this
mountain" — and as He spoke He may have pointed either to
Olivet or to Moriah — "to be removed, and cast into the sea, it
should obey them." But, since in this one instance the power had
been put forth to destroy, He added a very important warning.
They were not to suppose that this emblematic act gave them any
license to wield the sacred powers which faith and prayer would
bestow on them, for purposes of anger or vengeance; nay, no
power was possible to the heart that knew not how to forgive, and
the unforgiving heart could never be forgiven. The sword, and the
famine, and the pestilence were to be no instruments for them to
wield, nor were they even to dream of evoking against their enemies
the fire of heaven or the " icy wind of death." ' The secret of suc
cessful prayer was faith ; the road to faith in God lay through pardon
1 Some suppose that a breath of the simoom had been the agent in withering
the fig-tree.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 521
of transgression ; pardon was possible to them alone who were ready
to pardon others.
He was scarcely seated in the Temple when the result of the
machinations of His enemies on the previous evening showed itself
in a new kind of strategy, involving one of the most perilous and
deeply laid of all the schemes to entrap and ruin Him. The deadly
nature of the plot appeared in the fact that, to carry it out, the
Pharisees were united in ill-omened conjunction with the Herodians ;
so that two parties, usually ranked against each other in strong oppo
sition, were now reconciled in a conspiracy for the ruin of their
common enemy.1 Devotees and sycophants — hierarchical scrupu
losity and political in differ entism — the school of theocratic zeal and
the school of crafty expediency — were thus united to dismay and
perplex Him. The Herodians occur but seldom in the Gospel narra
tive. Their very designation — a Latinized adjective " applied to the
Greek-speaking courtiers of an Edomite prince who, by Roman
intervention, had become a Judsean king — showed at once their
hybrid -origin. Their existence had mainly a political significance,
and they stood outside the current of religious life, except so far as
their HeUenizing tendencies and worldly interests led them to show
an ostentatious disregard for the Mosaic law.3 They were, in fact,
mere provincial courtiers ; men who basked in the sunshine of a
petty tyranny which, for their own personal ends, they were anxious
to uphold. To strengthen the family of Herod by keeping it on
1 Matt. xxii. 15—22 ; Mark xii. 13—17 ; Luke xx. 19—26. " Not the first or last
instance in history, in which priests have used politicians, even otherwise opposed
to them, to crush a reformer whose zeal might be inimical to both " (Neander, p.
897, Bohn). Previously we only find the Herodians in Mark iii. 6. They seem to
be political descendants of the old Antiochians (2 Mace. iv. 9). (See Salvador,
Jesus Christ, i. 162.) Actually they were perhaps the Boethusim and their adher
ents, who had been allied to Herod the Great by marriage as well as by worldly
interests. Herod the Great, when he fell in love with Mariamne, daughter of
Simon, son of a certain Boethus of Alexandria, had made Simon High Priest by
way of ennobling him. These Boethusim had held the high-priesthood for thirty-
five years, and shared its influence with the family of Annas. In point of fact,
the priestly party of this epoch seem all to have been more or less Sadducees, and
more or less Herodians. They had. lost all hold on, and all care for, the people;
and, though less openly shameless, were the lineal representatives of those bad
pontiffs who, since the days of Jason and Menelaus,had tried to introduce " Greek
fashions and heathenish manners " (2 Mace, iv. 13, 14).
' But v. supr., p. 336.
8 Their attempt to represent Herod the Great as the Messiah (!) (Tert. Praescr.
45, " qui Christum Herodem esse dixerunt"337) was a thing of the past. The
genuine Sanhedrin, urging the command of Deut. xvii. 15, had unanimously
appealed against Herod.
66

522 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
good terms with Roman imperialism, and to effect this good under
standing by repressing every distinctively Jewish aspiration — this
was their highest aim. And in order to do this they Grsecised their
Semitic names, adopted ethnic habits, frequented amphitheatres,
familiarly accepted the symbols of heathen supremacy, even went so
far as to obliterate, by such artificial means as they could, the dis
tinctive and covenant symbol of Hebrew nationality. That the
Pharisees should tolerate even the most temporary partnership with
such men as these, whose very existence was a violent outrage on
their most cherished prejudices, enables us to gauge more accurately
the extreme virulence of hatred with which Jesus had inspired them.
And that hatred was destined to become deadlier still. It was already
at red-heat ; the words and deeds of this day were to raise it to its
whitest intensity of wrath.
The Herodians might come before Jesus without raising a sus
picion of sinister motives ; but the Pharisees, astutely anxious to put
Him off His guard, did not come to Him in person. They sent
some of their younger scholars, who (already adepts in hypocrisy)
were to approach Him as though in all the guileless simplicity of an
inquiring spirit.1 They evidently designed to raise the impression
that a dispute had occurred between them and the Herodians, and
that they desired to settle it by referring the decision of the question
at issue to the final and higher authority of the Great Prophet.
They came to Him circumspectly, deferentially, courteously.
"Rabbi," they said to Him with flattering earnestness, "we know
that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither
carest thou for any man ; for thou regardest not the person of men."
It was as though they would entreat Him, without fear or favor,
confidentially to give them His private opinion ; and as though they
really wanted His opinion for their own guidance in a moral question
of practical importance, and were quite sure that He alone could
resolve their distressing uncertainty. But why all this sly undulatory
approach and serpentine ensalivation ? The forked tongue and the
envenomed fang appeared in a moment. " Tell us, therefore " —
since you are so wise, so true, so courageous — " tell us, therefore, is
it lawful to give tribute to Caesar, or not ? " This capitation tax,"
which we all so much detest, but the legality of which these Hero
dians support, ought we, or ought we not, to pay it ? Which of us
1 St. Luke (xx. 20) calls them iyxdBsroi, " Hers in ambush." Comp. Job xxxi. 9.
* iitixsgydXaiov (Mark xii. 15, Cod. Bezae) ; xrjvdov (Matt. xxii. 17) ; cpopov
(Luke xx. 22). Properly speaking, the xrjvdoi was a poll-tax, the tpopoi a pay
ment for state purposes.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 523
is in the right ? — we who loathe and resent, or the Herodians who
delight in it?1
He must, they thought, answer " Yes " or " No ; " there is no pos
sible escape from a plain question so -cautiously, sincerely, and
respectfully put. Perhaps He will answer, " Yes, it is lawful." If
so, all apprehension of Him on the part of the Herodians will be
removed, for then He will not be likely to endanger them or their
views. For although there is something which looks dangerous in
this common enthusiasm for Him, yet if one, whom they take to be
the Messiah, should openly adhere to a heathen tyranny, and sanction
its most galling imposition, such a decision will at once explode and
evaporate any regard which the people may feel for Him. If, on the
other hand, as is all but certain, He should adopt the views of His
countryman Judas the Gaulonite, and answer, "No, it is not lawful"
then, in that case too, we are equally rid of Him ; for then He is in open
rebellion against the Roman power, and these new Herodian friends
of ours can at once hand Him over to the jurisdiction of the Procura
tor. Pontius Pilatus will deal very roughly with His pretensions,
and will, if need be, without the slightest hesitation, mingle His
blood, as he has done the blood of other Galilseans, with the blood
of the sacrifices.
They must have awaited the answer with breathless interest ; but
even if they succeeded in concealing the hate which gleamed in their
eyes, Jesus at once saw the sting and heard the hiss of the Pharisaic
serpent. They had fawned on Him with their " Rabbi," and " true,"
and "impartial," and "fearless;" He "blights them with the
flash" of one indignant word, "Hypocrites!" That word must
have undeceived their hopes, and crumbled their craftiness into dust.
" Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites ? Bring me the tribute-money." "
They would not be likely to carry with them the hated Roman coin
age with its heathen symbols, though they might have been at once
able to produce from their girdles the Temple shekel. But they
would only have to step outside the Court of the Gentiles, and bor
row from the money-changers' tables a current Roman coin. While
the people stood round in wondering silence they brought Him a
denarius, and put it in His hand. On one side were stamped the
haughty, beautiful features of the Emperor Tiberius, with all the
wicked scorn upon the lip ; on the obverse his title of Pontifex Max-

i Matt. xxii. 15—22 ; Luke xx. 19—26 ; Mark xii. 13—17.
Q Mark xii. 15, 16, cpsperE . . . oi Si ijvsyxav.

524 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
imus ! 1 It was probably due to mere accident that the face of the
cruel, dissolute tyrant was on this particular coin, for the Romans,
with that half-contemptuous concession to national superstitions
which characterized their rule, had allowed the Jews to have struck for
their particular use a coinage which recorded the name without bear
ing the likeness of the reigning emperor." " Whose image and super
scription is this ? " He asked. They say unto Him, " Caesar's."
There, then, was the simplest possible solution of their cunning ques
tion. " Bender, therefore, unto Cmsar the things that are Caesar's."
That alone might have been enough, for it implied that their national
acceptance of this coinage answered their question, and revealed its
emptiness. The very word which He used conveyed the lesson.
They had asked, " Is it lawful to. give " (Sovvai) ? He corrects them,
and says, " Render " — " Give back " (dnodore). It was not a vol
untary gift, but a legal due ; not a cheerful offering, but a political
' necessity. It was perfectly understood among the Jews, and was
laid down in the distinctest language by their greatest Rabbis in later
days, that to accept the coinage of any king was to acknowledge his
supremacy.3 By accepting the denarius, therefore, as a current coin
they were openly declaring that Csesar was their sovereign, and they
¦ — the very best of them — had settled the question that it was law
ful to pay the poll-tax, by habitually doing so. It was their duty,
then, to obey the power which they had deliberately' chosen, and the
tax, under these circumstances, only represented an equivalent for
the advantages which they received.4 But Jesus could not leave
them with this lesson only. He added the far deeper and weightier
words — " and to God the things that are Cod's." To Csesar you
owe the coin which you have admitted as the symbol of his author-

1 See Madden, p. 247 ; Akerman, p. 11, where plates are given. The coin would
not bear the full name Tiberius, but Ti. Csesar.
2 See Keim, Gesch. Jes. iii. 136. The Essenes had a special scruple against coins
which seemed to them to violate the second commandment ; and Jewish coins
only bear the signs of palms, lilies, grapes, censers, &c. (See Ewald, Gesch. Christ.,
p. 83 ; and the plates in Munk, Akerman, Madden, &c.)
3 Maimonides, Gezelah, 5. " Ubicumque numisma alicujus regis obtinet, illic
incolae regem istum pro domino agnoscunt." 338 In another Rabbinic tract Abigail
objects to David's assertion that he is king, because the coins of Saul are current
(Jer. Sanhedr. 20, 2). See too the curious anecdote in Avod. Zar. f . 6, quoted by
Keim. 4 Compare the command, given by Jeremiah (xxvii. 4 — 8), that the Jews should
obey Nebuchadnezzar, to whom their apoBtacies had made them subject ; so too of
Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, &c. (Rom. xiii. 1 ; 1 Pet. ii. 13, 14). The early Christians
boasted of their quiet obedience to the powers that be (Justin, Apol. i. 17).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 525
ity, and which bears his image and superscription ; to God you owe
yourselves.1 Nothing can more fully reveal the depth of hypocrisy
in these Pharisaic questioners than the fact that, in spite of the Divine
answer, and in spite of their own secret and cherished convictions,
they yet made it a ground of clamorous accusation against Jesus,
that He had "forbidden to give tribute unto Cwsar! " "
Amazed and humiliated at the sudden and total frustration of a
plan which seemed irresistible — compelled, in spite of themselves,
to admire the guileless wisdom which had in an instant broken loose
from the meshes of their sophistical malice — they sullenly retired.
There was nothing which even they could take hold of in His words.
But now, undeterred by this striking failure, the Sadducees thought
that they might have better success.3 There was something more
supercilious and offhand in the question which they proposed, and
they came in a spirit of less burning hatred, but of more sneering
scorn. Hitherto these cold Epicureans had, for the most part, despised
and ignored the Prophet of Nazareth.4 Supported as a sect by the
adhesion of some of the highest priests, as well as by some, of the
wealthiest citizens — on better terms than the Pharisees both with
the Herodian and the Roman power — they were, up to this time,
less terribly in earnest, and proposed to themselves no more impor
tant aim than to vex Jesus, by reducing Him into a confession of
difficulty. So they came with an old stale piece of casuistry, con
ceived in the same spirit of self-complacent ignorance as are many
of the objections urged by modern Sadducees against the resurrection
of the body, but still sufficiently puzzling to furnish them with an
argument in favor of their disbeliefs, and with a " difficulty " to throw
in the way of their opponents. Addressing Jesus with mock respect,
they called His attention to the Mosaic institution of levirate

1 " TJt Caesari quidem pecuniam reddas, Deo temetipsum " 339 (Tert. De Idol.
xv.). (Wordsworth.)
2 Luke xxiii. 2.
3 Matt. xxii. 23—33 ; Mark xii. 18—27 ; Luke xx. 27—39. Hitzig ( Ueber Joh.
Marc. 209) ingeniously conjectures that the narrative of the Woman taken in Adul
tery belongs to this place, so that there would have been on this day three separate
temptations of Christ — the first political, the second doctrinal, the third specula
tive. But though Lange, Keim (iii. 138), Ellicott (p. 312), and others approve of
this conjecture, it seems to me to have no probability. There is no shadow of
external evidence in its favor; the subjective arrangement of the questions is
rather specious than real ; the events of life do not happen in this kind of order ;
and the attack of the Pharisees was in this instance pre-arranged, whereas the
question about the adulteress rose spontaneously and accidentally.
4 They are scarcely mentioned except in Matt. xvi. 1.

526 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
marriages, and then stated, as though it had actually occurred,1 a
coarse imaginary case, in which, on the death without issue
of an eldest brother, the widow had been espoused in succession
by the six younger brethren, all of whom had died one after another,
leaving the widow still surviving. " Whose wife in the resur
rection, when people shall rise," they scoffingly ask, "shall this
sevenfold widow be ? " The Pharisees, if we may judge from Tal-
mudical writings, had already settled the question in a very obvious
way, and quite to their own satisfaction, by saying that she should in
the resurrection be the wife of the first husband. And even if Jesus
had given such a poor answer as this, it is difficult to see — since the
answer had been sanctioned by men most highly esteemed for their
wisdom — how the Sadducees could have shaken the force of the
reply, or what they would have gained by having put their inane and
materialistic question. But Jesus was content with no such answer,
though even Hillel and Shammai might have been. Even when the
idioms and figures of His language constantly resembled that of pre
vious or contemporary teachers of His nation, His spirit and precepts
differ from theirs to to eoelo? He might, had He been like any other
merely human teacher, have treated the question with that contempt
uous scorn which it deserved ; but the spirit of scorn is alien from the
spirit of the dove, and with no contempt He gave to their conceited
and eristic dilemma a most profound reply. Though the question
came upon Him most unexpectedly, His answer was everlastingly
memorable. It opened the gates of Paradise so widely that men might
see therein more than they had ever seen before, and it furnished
against one of the commonest forms of disbelief an argument that
neither Rabbi nor Prophet had conceived. He did not answer these
Sadducees with the same concentrated sternness which marked His
reply to the Pharisees and Herodians, because their purpose betrayed
rather an insipid frivolity than a deeply-seated malice ; but He told
them that they erred from ignorance, partly of the Scriptures, and
partly of the power of God. Had they not been ignorant of the power
of God, they would not have imagined that the life of the children of
1 Matt. xxii. 25, * ' There were with us seven brethren." On levirate marriages —
so called from the Latin word levir, " a brother-in-law " — see Deut. xxv. 5 — 10.
2 It must be steadily borne in mind that a vast majority, if not all, the Rabbinic
parallels adduced by Wetstein, Schottgen, Lightfoot, &c, to the words of Christ
belong to a far subsequent period. These Rabbis had ample opportunities to
light their dim candles at the fount of heavenly radiance, and " vaunt of the
splendor as though it were their own." I do not assert that the Rabbis con
sciously borrowed from Christianity, but before half a century had elapsed after
the resurrection, Christian thought was, so to speak, in the whole air.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 527
the resurrection was a mere reflex and repetition of the life of the
children of this world. In that heaven beyond the grave, though love
remains, yet all the mere earthlin esses of human relationship are
superseded and transfigured. " They that shall be accounted worthy
to obtain that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither
marry nor are given in marriage ; neither can they die any more ;
but are equal unto the angels ; and are the children of God, being
the children of the resurrection." Then as to their ignorance of Scrip
ture,1 He asked if they had never read in that section of the Book of
Exodus which was called "the Bush," how God had described Himself
to their great lawgiver as the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac,
and the God of Jacob. How unworthy would such a title have been,
had Abraham and Isaac and Jacob then been but grey handfuls of
crumbling dust, or dead bones, which should moulder in the Hittite's
cave ! " He is not the God of the dead, but the God of the living : ye
therefore do greatly err." Would it have been possible that He
should deign to call Himself the God of dust and ashes ? How new,
how luminous, how profound a principle of Scriptural interpretation
was this! The Sadducees had probably supposed that the words
simply meant, "I am the God in whom Abraham and Isaac and
Jacob trusted ; " yet how shallow a designation would that have been,
and how fittle adapted to inspire the faith and courage requisite for
an heroic enterprise ! " I am the God in whom Abraham and Isaac
and Jacob trusted ; " and to what, if there were no resurrection, had
their trust come? To death, and nothingness, and an everlasting
silence, and " a land of darkness, as darkness itself," after a fife so
full of trials that the last of these patriarchs had described it as a
pilgrimage of few and evil years ! But God meant more than this.
He meant — and so the Son of God interpreted it — that He who
helps them who trust Him here, will be their help and stay for ever
and for ever, nor shall the future world become for them " a land
where all things are forgotten." "
1 Jesus proved to them the doctrine of the resurrection from the Pentateuch, not
from the clearer declarations of the Prophets, because they attached a higher
importance to the Law. It was an d fortiori argument, " Even Moses, &c." (Luke
xx. 37). There is no evidence for the assertion that they rejected all the Old Tes
tament except the Law. " The Bush" means the section so called (Exod. iii.), just
as 2 Sam. i. was called " the Bow," Ezek. i. " the Chariot," &c. The Homeric
poems are similarly named.
2 R. Simeon Ben Eleazar refuted them by Numb. xv. 31 (Sanhedrin, 90, 6). It is,
however, observable that the intellectual error, or dopadia, of the Sadducees
was not regarded by our Lord with one-tenth part of the indignation which He
felt against the moral mistakes of the Pharisees. Doubt has been thrown by

528 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER LII.
THE GREAT DENUNCIATION.
"Prophesy against the shepherds of Israel, prophesy." — Ezek. xxxiv. 2.
All who heard them — even the supercilious Sadducees — must
have been solemnized by these high answers. The listening multi
tude were both astonished and delighted ; even some of the Scribes,
pleased by the spiritual refutation of a scepticism which their reason
ings had been unable to remove, could not refrain from the grateful
acknowledgment, "Master, thou hast well said." The more than
human wisdom and insight of these replies created, even among His
enemies, a momentary diversion in His favor. But once more the
insatiable spirit of casuistry and dissension awoke, and this time a
Scribe,1 a student of the Torah, thought that he too would try to
fathom the extent of Christ's learning and wisdom. He asked a
question which instantly betrayed a false and un spiritual point of
view, " Master, which is the great commandment in the Law ? "
The Rabbinical schools, in their meddling, carnal, superficial spirit
of word-weaving and letter-worship, had spun large accumulations of
worthless subtlety all over the Mosaic law. Among other things
they had wasted their idleness in fantastic attempts to count, and
classify, and weigh, and measure all the separate commandments of
the ceremonial and moral law. They had come to the sapient con
clusion that there were 248 affirmative precepts, being as many as
some modern writers on the Sadducean rejection of the resurrection, and it has
been asserted that the Sadducees have been confounded with the Samaritans ; in
the above-quoted passage of the Talmud, unless it has been altered (Geiger,
TJrschrift, 129 n), the reading is D'pVIX, not D'TlU (Derenbourg, Hist, de Palest.
131). Some writers have said, that the Sadducees merely maintained that the res
urrection could not be proved from the Law (minn 'D) ; if so, we see why our Lord
drew His argument from the Pentateuch. That some Jewish sects accounted the
Prophets and the Kethubhim of much less importance than the Law is clear from
Midr. Tanchuma on Deut. xi. 26. (Gfrorer, i. 263.)
1 Matt. xxii. 34 — 40; Mark xii. 28 — 34. St. Matthew says, vopixdi, a word
more frequently used by St. Luke than ypapparsvi, as less likely to be misun
derstood by his Gentile readers ; similarly Josephus calls the scribes ityyyrai
vopov (comp. Juv. Sat. vi. 544).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 529
the members in the human body, and 365 negative precepts, being
as many as the arteries and veins, or the days of the year : the total
being 613, which was also the number of letters in the Decalogue.
They arrived at the same result from the fact that the Jews were
commanded (Numb. xv. 38) to wear fringes (tsitsith) on the corners
of their tallith, bound with a thread of blue ; and as each fringe had
eight threads and five knots, and the letters of the word tsitsith make
600, the total number of commandments was, as before, 613. ¦ Now
surely, out of such a large number of precepts and prohibitions, all
could not be of quite the same value ; some were " light " (kal), and
some were " heavy " (kobhed). But which ? and what was the greatest
commandment of all ? According to some Rabbis, the most impor
tant of all is that about the tephillin and the tsitsith, the fringes and
phylacteries ; and " he who diligently observes it is regarded in the
same light as if he had kept the whole Law." "
Some thought the omission of ablutions as bad as homicide ; some
that the precepts of the Mishna were all "heavy;" those of the
Law were some heavy and some. light. Others considered the third
to be the greatest commandment. None of them had realized the
great principle, that the wilful violation of one commandment is the
transgression of all (James ii. 10), because the object of the entire
Law is the spirit of obedience to God. On the question proposed by
the lawyer the Shammaites and Hillefites were in disaccord, and, as
usual, both schools were wrong : the Shammaites, in thinking that
mere trivial external observances were valuable, apart from the spirit
in which they were performed, and the principle which they exempli-
1 Other Rabbis reckoned 620, the numerical value of the word ">0?. (kether), " a
crown." This style of exegesis was called Gematria (Buxtorf, Syn. Jud. c. ix. ;
Bartolocci, Lex. Rabb. s. v.). The sages of the Great Synagogue had, however,
reduced these to eleven, taken from Ps. xv., and observed that Isaiah reduced them
to six (Isa. Iv. 6, 7), Micah to three (vi. 8), and Habbakuk to one (ii. 4) (see Maccoth,
f. 24). Hillel is said to have pointed a heathen proselyte to Lev. xix. 18, with the
remark that "this is the essence of the Law, the rest is only commentary."
2 Rashi on Numb. xv. 38 — 40. When R. Joseph asked R. Joseph Ben Rabba which
commandment his father had told him to observe more than any other, he replied,
" The law about tassels. Once when, in descending a ladder, my father trod on
one of the threads, and tore it, he would not move from the place till it was
repaired" (Shabbath, 118 b). These fringes must be of four threads, one being
blue, which are to be passed through an eyelet-hole, doubled to make eight ; seven
are to be of equal length, the eighth to have enough over to twist into five knots,
which represent the five books of the Law I &c. (Buxtorf, ubi supra, and Leo
Modena, Rites and Customs of the Jews, I. ch. xi.). As for the tephillin, the pre
cepts about them were amazingly minute. For the other points see Tanch., f. 73,
2 ; Jer. Berach., f. 3, 2.
67

530 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
fied ; the Hillelites, in thinking that any positive command could in
itself be unimportant, and in not seeing that great principles are
essential to the due performance of even the slightest duties.
Still the best and most enlightened of the Rabbis had already
rightly seen that the greatest of all commands, because it was the
source of all the others, was that which enjoined the love of the One
True God. Jesus had already had occasion to express His approval
of this judgment,1 and He now repeats it. Pointing to the Scribes'
tephillin? in which one of the four divisions contained the " Shem,a "
(Deut. vi. 4) — recited twice a day by every pious Israelite — He
told them that that was the greatest of all commandments, "Hear,
O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord ; " and that the second was
like to it, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Love to God
issuing in love to man — love to man, our brother, resulting from
love to our Father, God — on these two commandments hang all the
Law and the Prophets.3
The question, in the sense in which the Scribe had put it, was one
of the mere jxdxai vop-inai, one of those " strivings about the Law,4
which, as they were handled by the schools, were " unprofitable and
vain." But he could not fail to see that Jesus had not treated it in
the idle disputatious spirit of jangling logomachy to which he was
accustomed, and had not in His answer sanctioned any of the com
mon errors and heresies of exalting the ceremonial above the moral,
or the Tradition over the Torah, or the decisions of Sopherim above
the utterances of Prophets. Still less had He fallen into the fatal
error of the Rabbis, by making obedience in one particular atone for
transgression in another. The commandments which He had men
tioned as the greatest were not special but general — not selected out
of many, but inclusive of all. The Scribe had the sense to observe,
and the candor to acknowledge, that the answer of Jesus was wise
and noble. " Well, Master," he exclaimed, " thou hast said the
truth ; " and then he showed that he had read the Scriptures to some
advantage by summarizing some of those grand free utterances of
1 Luke x. 27. V. supr., p. 454.
2 The passages inscribed on the parchment slips which were put into the cells
of the little leather boxes called tephillin were Exod. xiii. 1 — 10, 11 — 16 ; Deut. vi.
4 — 9 ; xi. 13 — 21. The sect of Perushim, or modern Pharisees, to this day
nXarvvovdi rd cpvXaxTr/piam (Matt, xxiii. 5).
3 The expression " hangs " is probably proverbial, but some have seen in it a
special allusion to the hanging tsitsith, which were meant to remind them of the
Law (Numb. xv. 39). (Stier, iii. 184.)
4 Titus iii. 9.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 531
the Prophets which prove that love to God and love to man is better
than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifices.1 Jesus approved of
his sincerity, and said to him in words which involved both gracious
encouragement and serious warning, " Thou art not far from the
kingdom of heaven." It was, therefore, at once easier for him to
enter, and more perilous to turn aside. When he had entered he
would see that the very spirit of his question -was an erroneous and
faulty one, and that " whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet
offend in one point, is guilty of all." "
No other attempt was ever made to catch or entangle Jesus by the
words of His lips. The Sanhedrin had now experienced, by the
defeat of their cunning stratagems, and the humiliation of their
vaunted wisdom, that one ray of light from the sunlit hills on which
His spirit sat, was enough to dissipate, and to pierce through and
through, the fogs of wordy contention and empty repetition in which
they lived and moved and had their being. But it was well for
them to be convinced how easily, had He desired it, He could have
employed against them with overwhelming force the very engines
which, with results so futile and so disastrous, they had put in play
against Him. He therefore put to them one simple question, based
on their own principles of interpretation, and drawn from a Psalm
(the 110th), which they regarded as distinctly Messianic.3 In that
Psalm occurs the expression, " The Lord (Jehovah) said unto my
Lord (Adonai), Sit thou on my right hand." How then could the
Messiah be David's son? Could Abraham have called Isaac and
Jacob and Joseph, or any of his own descendants near or remote, his
lord f If not, how came David to do so ? There could be but one
answer — because that Son would be divine, not human — David's
son by human birth, but David's Lord by divine subsistence. But
they could not find this simple explanation, nor, indeed, any other ;
they could not find it, because Jesus was their Messiah, and they had
rejected Him. They chose to ignore the fact that He was, in the
flesh, the son of David ; and when, as their Messiah, He had called
Himself the Son of God, they had raised their hands in pious horror,

1 1 Sam. xv. 22 ; Hosea vi. 6 ; Micah 6 — 8. Irenseus, Haer. i. 17, adds the
aypacpov Soy pa, " I have long desired to hear such words, and have not yet
found the speaker."
2 James ii. 10.
3 See Midrash Tehillin ad Ps. ex. 1 ; Beresh. Rob. 83, 4, quoted by Wetstein ;
and the LXX. rendering of ver. 3, ix yadrpoi itpd 'Eaodtpopov iyivvrjdd
deM (Keim, iii. 158). See Ecclus. Ii. 10. The Chaldee Paraphrast has for
Adonai, "Meyimra," i. e., " the Word."

532 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
and had taken up stones to stone Him. So here again — since they
had rejected the clue of faith which would have led them to the true
explanation — their wisdom was utterly at fault, and though they
claimed so haughtily to be leaders of the people, yet, even on a topic
so ordinary and so important as their Messianic hopes, they were con
victed, for the second time on a single day, of being " blind leaders
of the blind."
And they loved their blindness ; they would not acknowledge their
ignorance ; they did not repent them of their faults ; the bitter venom
of their hatred to Him was not driven forth by His forbearance ; the
dense midnight of their perversity was not dispelled by His wisdom.
Their purpose to destroy Him was fixed, obstinate, irreversible;
and if one plot failed, they were but driven with more stubborn
sullenness into another. And, therefore, since Love had played her
part in vain, " Justice leaped upon the stage ; " since the Light of
the World shone for them with no illumination, the lightning flash
should at last warn them of their danger. There could now be no
hope of their becoming reconciled to Him ; they were but being
stereotyped in unrepentant malice against Him. Turning, therefore,
to His disciples, but in the audience of all the people,1 He rolled over
their guilty heads, with crash on crash of moral anger, the thunder
of His utter condemnation." So far as they represented a legitimate
external authority He bade His hearers to respect them,3 but He
warned them not to imitate their falsity, their oppression, their osten
tation, their love of prominence, their fondness for .titles, their insin
uating avarice, their self -exalting pride. He bade them beware of
the broadened phylacteries and exaggerated tassels — of the* long
robes that covered the murderous hearts, and the long prayers that
diverted attention from the covetous designs.4 And then, solemnly
1 Some of the Temple courts had room for at least 6,000 people (Jos. B. J. ii. 17,
§ 3), and it is probable that even more were assembled in them at the Passover,
the torch-dance at the Feast of Tabernacles, &c.
2 Matt, xxiii. 1 — 39. The attempt of Lange to bring these eight woes into
allusive contrast with the eight beatitudes seems to me an instance of that mis
placed ingenuity which has done much harm to sound exegesis.
3 In the language spoken by our Lord there was a paronomasia between Moses
(Mosheh) and moshab. This is another of the interesting probable indications as
to the language which He ordinarily used (v. supr.. p. 93). There is another
most marked Hebraism in Matt. xxiv. 22 (where oil itai = ovSeii, and da pi =
avBpaoitoi) and in verse 24(Saodovdi), and xxvi. 18 (itotao rd itddxa).
4 " Ye devour widows' houses." See Jos. Antt. xvii. 2, § 4, oii . . . vitr/xro
ri yvvaixaovini . Most readers will recall modern parallels to this fact. As
to the proselytism, see Pwke Abhdth, iv. 2. Ewald, Gesch. Christ., p. 44, mentions
that the word -\1i, " to proselytize," was coined at this period. As to their immense

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 533
and terribly, He uttered His eightfold " Woe unto you, Scribes and
Pharisees, hypocrites," scathing them in utterance after utterance
with a flame which at once revealed and scorched. Woe unto them,
for the ignorant erudition which closed the gates of heaven, and the
injurious jealousy which would suffer no others to enter in ! Woe
unto them for their oppressive hypocrisy and greedy cant ! Woe for
the proselytizing fanaticism which did but produce a more perilous
corruption ! Woe for the blind hair-splitting folly which so confused
the sanctity of oaths as to tempt their followers into gross profanity ! '
Woe for the petty paltry sham-scrupulosity which paid tithes of pot
herbs, and thought nothing of justice, mercy, and faith — which
strained out animalculaB from the goblet, and swallowed camels into
the heart ! " Woe for the external cleanliness of cup and platter con
trasted with the gluttony and drunkenness to which they ministered !
Woe to the tombs that simulated the sanctity of temples — to the
glistening outward plaster of hypocrisy which did but render more
ghastly by contrast the reeking pollutions of the sepulchre within !
Woe for the mock repentance which condemned their fathers for the
murder of the prophets, and yet reflected the murderous spirit of
and pretentious self-assertion, see the numerous quotations and anecdotes from
the Talmud in Gfrorer, Jahrh. d. Heils. pp. 144 — 149. One will be sufficient.
They represent heaven itself as a Rabbinic school, of which God is the Head
Rabbi. On one occasion God differs from all the angels on » question as to a
leper being clean or unclean. They refer the decision to R. Ben Nachman, who
is accordingly slain by Azrael, and brought to the heavenly Academy. He decides
with God, who is much pleased. (Babha Metzia, f. 86 a.) The reader will be
reminded of Pope's criticism on Milton—
" In quibbles angel and archangel join,
And God the Father turns a school divine."
' There is a marked analogy between Rabbinism and Scholasticism. One might
compare Hillel to Anselm, R. Jehuda Hakk6desh to Thomas Aquinas, Gamaliel to
Abelard, &c.
1 The miserable quibbles by which, in consequence of such pernicious teaching,
the Jews evaded their oaths, became notorious even in the heathen world. (See
Martial, Ep. xi. 94.) The charges which our Lord uttered are amply supported
by Jewish testimonies : e. g., in Midrash Esth. i., f. 101, 4, it is said that there are
ten portions of hypocrisy in the world, of which nine are at Jerusalem (Schattgen).
Keim quotes some curious parallels from the Psalms of Solomon, the Assumption
of Moses, and the Book of Enoch. On the Proselytism of the Jews, see Juv. Sat.
xiv. 101. It was expressly enjoined in the Pirke Abhdth, iv. 2. In tithing anise
they made it a question whether it was enough to pay tithes of the flower only, or
also of the seed and stalk.
2 SivXiC,ovrEi. Vulg. excolantes; cf. Amosvi. 6, itivovrei SivXidpe'vov oivov,
LXX. They filtered their water through linen to avoid swallowing any unclean
insect (Lev. xi. 41 — 43).

534 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
those fathers — nay, filled up and exceeded the measure of their
guilt by a yet deadlier and more dreadful sacrifice ! Aye, on that
generation would come all the righteous blood shed upon the earth,
from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zacharias, whom
they slew between the porch and the altar.1 The purple cloud of
retribution had long been gathering its elements of fury : upon their
heads should it burst in flame !
And at that point the voice which had rung with just and noble
indignation broke with the tenderest pity — "O Jerusalem, Jerusa
lem, thou that killest the Prophets, and stonest them that are sent
unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together,
even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye. would
not ! " Behold, your house is left unto you desolate ! For I say

1 A Zacharias, the son of Baruch or Barachias, one of the most eminent and pious
men of his day, was slain thirty-four years after this time by the Zealots, on a
false accusation, in ihe midst of the Temple (dvd pidov rov ispov), and his
body was flung from the Temple into the valley beneath (Jos. B. J. iv. 5, § 4). It
is of course clear that this cannot be the Zacharias alluded to. Nor is there any
authority for the belief of Origen, that the father of John the Baptist was mar
tyred, or that he too was a son of Barachias. The prophet Zechariah was indeed
a son of Berechiah (Zech. i. 1), but there is no reason to believe that he was put
to death. We must therefore conclude that our Lord referred to Zechariah, the
son of Jehoiada (which is the reading in the Gospel used by the Nazarenes), who
was stoned by order of Joash " in the court of the house of the Lord." That he
is referred to is clear, because (i.) this murder, in the order of the Jewish books,
stood last in the Old Testament ; (ii.) in dying, Zechariah had exclaimed, " Tlie
Lord look upon it and require it ; " (iii.) the Jews themselves had many most
remarkable legends about this murder (see Lightfoot on Matt, xxiii. 35 ; Stanley,
Lectures on the Jewish Church, p. 402), which made a deep impression on them,
and which they specially believed to have kindled God's wrath against them
(2 Chron. xxiv. 18). Consequently I believe that " son of Berechiah," which
is not found (except in D) in Luke xi. 51, is a very early and erroneous gloss
which has crept into the text. This is almost certainly the true explanation. In
Matthew the words are omitted by X. The other suggestions — that Jehoiadahad
a second name, or that Zochariah was grandson of Jehoiada, and son of an unre
corded Berechiah — do not commend themselves by any probability. If it be asked
why Jesus should have mentioned a murder which had taken place so many cen
turies ago, the answer seems to be that He intended to convey this meaning —
" Tour fathers, from beginning to end of your recorded history [a general expres
sion, as we might say, 'The Jews from Genesis to Revelation'], rejected and slew
God's prophets : you, as you share and consummate their guilt, so shall bear the
brunt of the long-gathering Nemesis."
2 This beautiful image also occurs in 2 Esdr. i. 30. This would be the closest
parallel between the Apocrypha and any words of Christ, were it not that 2 Esdras
i., ii. are interpolations found in the Latin and followed by our English version of
the Apocrypha, but not found in the Arabic or .(Ethiopia The germ of the image,
under another form, is in Deut. xxxii. 11.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST 535
unto'you, Ye shall not see me henceforth till ye shall say, Blessed is
He that cometh in the name of the Lord." '
"Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites." Some have
ventured to accuse these words of injustice, of bitterness — to attrib
ute them to a burst of undignified disappointment and unreasonable
wrath. Yet is sin never to be rebuked ? is hypocrisy never to be
unmasked ? is moral indignation no necessary part of the noble soul ?
And does not Jewish literature itself most amply support the charge
brought against the Pharisees by Jesus ? " Fear not true Pharisees,
but greatly fear painted Pharisees," said Alexander Jannseus to his
wife on his deathbed. " The supreme tribunal," says R. Nachaman,
" will duly punish hypocrites who wrap their talliths around them to
appear, which they are not, true Pharisees." Nay, the Talmud
itself, with unwonted keenness and severity of sarcasm, has pictured
to us the seven classes of Pharisees, out of which six are character
ized by a mixture of haughtiness and imposture. There is the
"Shechemite" Pharisee, who obeys the law from self-interest (cf.
Gen. xxxiv. 19) ; the Tumbling Pharisee (nikfi), who is so humble
that he is always stumbling because he will not lift his feet .from the
ground ; the Bleeding Pharisee (kinai), who is always hurting him
self against walls, because he is so modest as to be unable to walk
about with his eyes open lest he should see a woman ; the Mortar
Pharisee (medorkia), who covers his eyes as with a mortar, for the
same reason; the Tell-me-another-duty-and-I-will-do-it Pharisee —
several of whom occur in our Lord's ministry; and the Timid
Pharisee, who is actuated by motives of fear alone. The seventh
class only is the class of "Pharisees from love," who obey God
because they love Him from the heart."
" Behold, your house is left unto you desolate ! " And has not
that denunciation been fearfully fulfilled ? " Who does not catch an
1 i. e. At the Second Advent (Zech. xii. 10 ; Hos. iii. 4, 5). The itoddxii indi-
cates that the ministry of Jesus in Jerusalem had been much fuller than the
Synoptists record.
2 Jer. Berachdth, ix. 7 ; Bab. Sola, f . 22 a ; Abhdth de Rabbi Nathan, xxxvii.
(Otho, Lex. Rab. ; Cohen, Deicides, E. Tr., p. 152.) Perhaps the " Shechemite "
Pharisee may be "the humpbacked" (schikmi) i. e., "qui marchait le dos voute-
comme s'il portait sur ses epaules le fardeau entier de la loi " 342 (Renan, Vie de
Jesus, p. 204, ed. pop). The passages are a little obscure, and in minor particu
lars the explanations differ. Nikfi is explained by some to mean the " flagellant "
Pharisee (Derenbourg, Hist. Pal. p. 71). On the enormous pretensions and con
summate hypocrisy of the Pharisees as a class, see supr., p. 336, and Excursus IX.,
" Hypocrisy of the Pharisees."
3 One poor Jew ... stood in humble prayer, with his tephilla wrapped round

536 THE LIFE OF CHRIST,
echo of it in the language of Tacitus — " Expassae repente delubri
fores, et audita major humana vox excedere Deos?'' 34" * Speaking of the
murder of the younger Hanan, and other eminent nobles and hierarchs,
Josephus says, " I cannot but think that it was because God had
doomed this city to destruction as a polluted city, and was resolved
to purge His sanctuary by fire, that He cut off these their great
defenders and well-wishers ; while those that a little before had worn
the sacred garments and presided over the public worship, and had
been esteemed venerable by those that dwelt ih the whole habitable
earth, were cast out naked, and seen to be the food of dogs and wild
beasts." 1 Never was a narrative more full of horrors, frenzies, un
speakable degradations, and overwhelming miseries than is the nistory
of the siege of Jerusalem. Never was any prophecy more closely,
more terribly, more overwhelmingly fulfilled than this of Christ.
The men going about in the disguise of women with swords concealed
under their gay robes ; the rival outrages and infamies of John and
Simon ; the priests struck by darts from the upper court of the Tem
ple, and falling slain by their own sacrifices ; " the blood of all sorts
of dead carcases — priests, strangers, profane — standing in lakes in
the holy courts ; " the corpses themselves lying in piles and mounds
on the very altar slopes ; the fires feeding luxuriously on cedar-work
overlaid with gold ; friend and foe trampled to death on the gleam
ing mosaics in promiscuous carnage; priests, swollen with hunger,
leaping madly into the devouring flames, till at last those flames had
done their work, and what had been the Temple of Jerusalem, the
beautiful and holy House of God, was a heap of ghastly ruin, where
the burning embers were half-slaked in pools of gore.
And did not all the righteous blood shed upon the earth since the
days of Abel come upon that generation ? Did not many of that
generation survive to witness and feel the unutterable horrors which
Josephus tells ? — to see their fellows crucified in jest, " some one way,
and some another," till " room was wanting for the crosses, and crosses
for the carcases ? " — to experience the " deep silence " and the kind
of deadly night which seized upon the city in the intervals of rage ?
— to see 600,000 dead bodies carried out of the gates? — to see friends
fighting madly for grass and nettles, and the refuse of the drains ? —
to see the bloody zealots " gaping for want, and stumbling and stag-

his body and arms, weeping as he uttered the words spoken by every Jew when he
sees the Holy Land, " Woe is me I thy iioly cities are turned into deserts."
(Frankl, ii. 344.)
i B. J. iv. 5, § 2 (Whiston). Comp. Mic. iii. 12.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 537
gering along like mad dogs ? " — to hear the horrid tale of the misera
ble mother who, in the pangs of famine, had devoured her own child ?
— to be sold for slaves in such multitudes that at last none would buy
them ? — to see the streets running with blood, and the " fire of burn
ing houses quenched in the blood of their defenders ? " — to have their
young sons sold in hundreds, or exposed in the amphitheatres to the
sword of the gladiator or the fury of the lion, until at last, " since the
people were now slain, the Holy House burnt down, and the city in
flames, there was nothing farther left for the enemy to do ? " In that
awful siege it is believed, that there perished 1,100,000 men, beside the
97,000 who were carried captive, and most of whom perished subse
quently in the arena or the mine ; and it was an awful thing to feel, as
some of the survivors and eye-witnesses — and they not Christians — did
feel, that " the city had deserved its overthrow by producing a gen
eration of men who were the causes of its misfortunes ; " and that
" neither did any other city ever suffer such miseries, nor did any
age ever breed a generation more fruitful in loickedness than this
was, since the beginning of the world." '
1 Every detail in these two paragraphs is taken from Jos. B. J. vi. 6 — vi. 10,
passim. "A partir de ce moment la faim, la rage, le desespoir, la folie habMrent
Jerusalem. Ce fut une cage de fous furieux, une ville de hurlements et de can-
nibales, un enfer." 343 (Renan, L'Antechrist, 506.)
68

538 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.

CHAPTER LIII.
FAREWELL TO THE TEMPLE.
"Ecclesift Dei jam per totum orbem uberrime germinante Templum tamquam
effoetum et vanum nullique usui bono commodum, arbitrio Dei auferendum
fuit."344 — Oros. vii. 9.
It must have been clear to all that the Great Denunciation recoided
in the last chapter involved a final and hopeless rupture. After lan
guage such as this there could be no possibility of reconciliation. It
was " too late." The door was shut. When Jesus left the Temple
His disciples must have been aware that He was leaving it for ever.
But apparently as He was leaving it — perhaps while He was sit
ting with sad heart and downcast eyes in the Court of the Women
to rest His soul, troubled by the unwonted intensity of moral indig
nation, and His mind wearied with these incessant assaults — another
and less painful incident happened, which enabled Him to leave the
actual precincts of the House of His Father with words, not of anger,
but of approval. In this Court of the Women were thirteen chests
called shopherdth, each shaped like a trumpet, broadening downwards
from the aperture, and each adorned with various inscriptions. Into
these were cast those religious and benevolent contributions which
helped to furnish the Temple with its splendid wealth. While
Jesus was sitting there the multitude were dropping their gifts,
and the wealthier donors were conspicuous among them as they
ostentatiously offered their gold and silver. Raising His eyes, per
haps from a reverie of sorrow, Jesus at a glance took in the whole
significance of the scene.1 At that moment a poor widow timidly
dropped in her little contribution. The lips of the rich contributors
may have curled with scorn at a presentation which was the very
lowest legal minimum. She had given two prutahs (nitons), the
very smallest of current coins ; for it was not. lawful, even for the
poorest, to offer only one. A lepton, or prutah, was the eighth part
of an as, and was worth a little less than half a farthing, so that her
1 Luke xxi. 1, dvaf5Xii$>ai. Passages like "He that giveth alms in secret is
greater than Moses himself;" " It is as well not to give as to give ostentatiously
and openly," are quoted from the Talmud.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 539
whole, gift was of the value of less than 'a farthing; and with the
shame of poverty she may well have shrunk from giving so trivial a
gift when the rich men around her were lavishing their gold. But
Jesus was pleased with the faithfulness and the self-sacrificing spirit
of the gift. It was like the "cup of cold water" given for love's
sake, which in His kingdom should not go unrewarded. He wished
to teach for ever the great lesson that the essence of charity is self-
denial ; and the self-denial of this widow in her pauper condition was
far greater than that of the wealthiest Pharisee who had contributed
his gold. " For they all flung in of their abundance, but she of her
penury cast in all she had, her whole means of subsistence." " One
coin out of a fittle," says St. Ambrose, " is better than a treasure out
of much ; for it is not considered' how much is given, but how much
remains behind." " H there be a willing mind," says St. Paul, " it
is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that
he hath not."
And now Jesus left the Temple for the last time ; but the feelings
of the Apostles still clung with the loving pride of their nationality
to that sacred and memorable spot.1 They stopped to cast upon it
one last lingering gaze, and one of them was eager to call His atten
tion to its goodly stones and splendid offerings — those nine gates
overlaid with gold and silver, and the one of solid Corinthian brass
yet more precious; those graceful and towering porches; those
bevelled blocks of marble forty cubits long and ten cubits high,
testifying to the toil and munificence of so many generations ; those
double cloisters and stately pillars ; that lavish adornment of sculp
ture and arabesque ; those alternate blocks of red and white marble,
recalling the crest and hollow of the sea- waves ; those vast clusters of
golden grapes, each cluster as large as a man, which twined their
splendid luxuriance over the golden doors." They would have Him
gaze with them on the rising terraces Of courts — the Court of the
Gentiles, with its monolithic columns and rich mosaic ; above this
the flight of fourteen steps which led to the Court of the Women ;
then the flight of fifteen steps which led up to the Court of the
Priests; then, once more, the twelve steps which led to the final
platform crowned by the actual Holy, and Holy of Holies, which the
1 Matt. xxiv. 1 ; Mark xiii. 1 ; Luke xxi. 5, 6.
2 Bab. Sucea, fol. 51 a. (De Saulcy, Herode, p. 239.) The Talmudists, however,
confessedly speak sometimes literally (D£5>Sn 'fi?) and sometimes hyperbolically
('fcOri llBv) ; and perhaps the accounts of this golden vine, and the veil which it
took 300 priests to raise, are meant to be taken in the latter sense (see Reland,
Antt. Hebr., p. 139).

540 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Rabbis fondly compared for its shape to a couchant lion, and which,
with its marble whiteness and gilded roofs, looked like a glorious
mountain whose snowy summit was gilded by the sun.1 It is as
though they thought that the loveliness and splendor of this scene
would intercede with Him, touching His heart with mute appeal. But
the heart of Jesus was sad. To Him the sole beauty of a Temple was
the sincerity of its worshippers, and no gold or marble, no brilliant
vermilion or curiously-carven cedar-wood, no delicate sculpturing or
votive gems, could change for Him a den of robbers into a House
of Prayer. The builders were still busily at work, as they had been
for nearly fifty years, but their work, unblessed of God, was destined
— like the earthquake-shaken forum of guilty Pompeii — to be
destroyed before it was finished. Briefly and almost sternly Jesus
answered, as He turned away from the glittering spectacle, " Seest
thou these great buildings ? there shall not be left one stone upon
another which shall not be thrown down." It was the final exxco-
pdo/xev — the " Let us depart hence " of retiring Deity. Tacitus and
Josephus tell us how at the siege of Jerusalem was heard that great
utterance of departing gods ; " but now it was uttered in reality,
though no earthquake accompanied it, nor any miracle to show that
this was the close of another great epoch in the world's history. It
took place quietly, and God " was content to show all things in the
slow history of their ripening." Thirty-five years afterwards that
Temple sank into the ashes of its destruction ; neither Hadrian, nor
Julian, nor any other, were able to build upon its site ; and now that
very site is a matter of uncertainty.3
Sadly and silently, with such thoughts in their hearts, the little
band turned their backs on the sacred building, which stood there as
an epitome of Jewish history from the days of Solomon onwards.
They crossed the valley of Kidron, and climbed the steep footpath
that leads over the Mount of Olives to Bethany. At the summit of
1 This comparison is used by Josephus in that elaborate description of the Tem
ple (B. J. v. 5) from which I have taken the above particulars. (Tac. Hist. v. 8,
" immensae opulentiae lemplum." 345) The splendid votive offerings of kings con
tinued till the last : e. g., Agrippa hung up in it the golden chain presented to
him by Caligula. Descriptions of the external appearance of the Temple and of
Jerusalem at this time may be found in F. Delitzsch's pathetic story, Durch
Krankheit zur Genesung. Eine Jerusal. Gesch. d. Her odianer -Zeit. (Leipz.
1873.) 1 Jos. B. J. vi. 5, § 3 ; Tac. Hist. v. 1 3.
8 Titus himself was amazed at the massive structures of Jerusalem, and saw in
his conquest of it the hand of God (Jos. B. J. vi. 9, § 1). On the desolation of the
Temple, compare 4 Esdr. x. 28. (GfrOrer, Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 72.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 541
the hill they paused, and Jesus sat down to rest — perhaps under the
green boughs of those two stately cedar-trees which then adorned the
summit of the hill. It was a scene well adapted to inspire most sol
emn thoughts. Deep on the one side beneath Him lay the Holy
City, which had long become a harlot, and which now, on this day
—the last great day of His public ministry — had shown finally that
she knew not the time of her visitation. At His feet were the slopes
of Olivet and the Garden of Gethsemane. On the opposite slope
rose the city walls, and the broad plateau crowned with the marble
colonnades and gilded roofs of the Temple. Turning in the eastward
direction He would look across the bare, desolate hills of the wilder
ness of Judaea to the purpling line of the mountains of Moab, which
glow like a chain of jewels in the sunset light. In the deep, scorched
hollows of the Gh6r, visible in patches of sullen cobalt, lay the mys
terious waters of the Sea of Lot. And thus, as He gazed from the
brow of the hill, on either side of Him there were visible tokens of
God's anger and man's sin. On the one side gloomed the dull lake,
whose ghastly and bituminous waves are a perpetual testimony to
God's vengeance upon sensual crime ; at His feet was the glorious
guilty city which had shed the blood of all the prophets, and was
doomed to sink through yet deadlier wickedness to' yet more awful
retribution. And the setting sun of His earthly life flung deeper
and more sombre colorings across the whole scene of His earthly pil
grimage. It may be that the shadows of His thought gave a strange solem
nity to His attitude and features as He sat there silent among the
silent and saddened band of His few faithful followers. Not with
out a touch of awe His nearest and most favored Apostles — Peter,
and James, and John, and Andrew — came near to Him, and as they
saw His eye fixed upon the Temple, asked Him privately, " When
shall these things be ? and what shall be the sign of Thy coming, and
of the end of the world ? " 1 Their " when f " remained for the
present unanswered. It was the way of Jesus, when some ignorant
or irrelevant or inadmissible question was put to Him, to rebuke it
not directly, but by passing it over, and by substituting for its answer
some great moral lesson which was connected with it, and could alone
1 Matt. xxiv. , xxv. ; Mark xiii. 3 — 37; Luke xxi. 7 — 38. In one of the unre
corded sayings of Christ, He answers the question thus : " When the two shall be
one, and that which is without as that which is within ; and the male with the
female neither male nor female" (Clem. Rom. Ep. ii. 12 ; Clem. Alex. Strom, iii.
9, 63). (Westcott, Introd., p. 431 .)

542 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
make it valuable.1 Accordingly, this question of the Apostles drew
from Him the great Eschatological Discourse, or Discourse of the
Last Tilings, of which the four moral key-notes are "Beware!"
and "Watch!" and "Endure!" and "Pray."
Immense difficulties have been found in this discourse, and long
treatises have been written to remove them. And, indeed, the met
aphorical language in which it is clothed, and the intentional obscu
rity in which the will of God has involved all those details of the
future which would only minister to an idle curiosity or a paralyzing
dread, must ever make parts of it difficult to understand. But if
we compare together the reports of the three Synoptists," and see
how they mutually throw light upon each other; if we remem
ber that, in all three, the actual words of Jesus are necessarily con
densed, and are only reported in their substance, and in a manner
which admits of verbal divergencies ; if we bear in mind that they
are in all probability a rendering into Greek from the Aramaic ver
nacular in which they were spoken ; " if we keep hold of the certainty
that the object of Prophecy in all ages has been moral warning
infinitely more than even the vaguest chronological indication, since
to the voice of Prophecy as to the eye of God all Time is but one
eternal Present, " one day as a thousand years, and a thousand years as
one day ; " 4 if, finally, we accept with quiet reverence and without any
idle theological phraseology about the communicatio idiomatum,""
the distinct assertion of the Lord Himself, that to Him, in His human
capacity, were not known the day and the hour, which belonged to
" the times and the seasons which the Father hath kept in His own
power ; " — if, I say, we read these chapters with such principles kept
steadily in view, then to every earnest and serious reader I feel sure
that most of the difficulties will vanish of themselves.
It is evident, from comparing St. Luke with the other Synoptists,
that Jesus turned the thoughts of the disciples to two horizons, one
near and one far off, as He suffered them to see one brief glimpse of
the landscape of the future. The boundary line of either horizon

1 Comp. Luke xiii. 23, 24.
2 Matt, xxiv,, xxv. ; Mark xiii. ; Luke xxi.
3 Schott, for instance, has conjectured that the evBEaoi of Matt. xxiv. 29 is an
unsuccessful representative of the Aramaic DXDQ- It may be so, but the diffi
culty it creates is in great measure removed if, on turning to Luke xxi. 25, we see
that the condensation of St. Matthew has omitted a particular which would re
move the reference contained in the Euflf'ooS far into the future.
4 Ps. xc. 4 ; 2 Peter iii. 8. St. Augustine wisely says, " Latet ultimus dies, ut
observentur omnes dies." 846 1

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 543
marked the winding up of an ceon, the ffvvriXeia aidovoij each
was a great reXoi, or ending ; of each it was true that the then exist
ing yevea — first in its literal sense of " generation," then in its
wider sense of "race" — should not pass away until all had been ful
filled. And the one was the type of the other ; the judgment upon
Jerusalem, followed by the establishment of the visible Church on
earth, foreshadowed the judgment of the world, and the establishment
of Christ's kingdom at His second coming. And if the vague pro
phetic language and imagery of St. Matthew, and to a less degree that
of St. Mark, might lead to the impression that these two events were
continuous, or at least nearly conterminous with each other, on the
other hand we see clearly from St. Luke that our Lord expressly
warned the inquiring Apostles that, though many of the signs which
He predicted would be followed by the immediate close of one great
epoch in the world's history, on the other hand the great consumma
tion, the final Palingenesia, would not follow at once, nor were they
to be alarmed by the troubles and commotions of the world into any
instant or feverish expectancy.1 In fact, when once we have grasped
the principle that Jesus was speaking partly and primarily of the fall
of the Jewish polity and dispensation, partly and secondarily of the
End of the World — but that, since He spoke of them with that
varying interchange of thought and speech which was natural for one
whose whole being moved in the sphere of Eternity and not of Time,
the Evangelists have not clearly distinguished between the passages
in which He is referring more prominently to the one than to the
other — we shall then avoid being misled by any superficial and erro
neous impressions, and shall bear in mind that before the final end
Jesus placed two great events. The first of these was a long tread
ing under foot of Jerusalem, until the times of the Gentiles (the
naipol idvdov, i. e., their whole opportunities under the Christian
dispensation) should be fulfilled ; " the second was a preaching of the
Gospel of the Kingdom to all nations in all the world.3 Nor can we
deny all probability to the supposition that while the inspired nar
rators of the Gospel history reported with perfect wisdom and faith
fulness everything that was essential to the life and salvation of
mankind, their abbreviations of what Jesus uttered, and the sequence
which they gave to the order of His utterances, were to a certain
Luke xxi. 9, Ssi yap ysvsdBai ravva itpaorov, dXX' ovx svBs'Goi rd reXoi.3"
The same thing is brought out, but in obscurer sequence, by Matt. xxiv. 6; Mark
xiii. 7, ovitoo rd riXoi.lii See Bossuet, Midit. Dem. Serm. 76.
2 Luke xxi. 24.
2 Matt. xxiv. 14.

544 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
extent tinged by their own subjectivity — possibly even by their
own natural supposition — that the second horizon lay nearer to the
first than it actually did in the designs of Heaven.
In this discourse, then, Jesus first warned them of false Messiahs
and false prophets ; He told them that the wild struggling of nations
and those physical commotions and calamities which have so often
seemed to synchronize with the great crises of History, were not to
trouble them, as they would be but the throe of the Palingenesia,
the first birth-pang of the coming time.1 He prophesied of dreadful
persecutions, of abounding iniquity, of decaying faith, of wide
evangelization as the signs of a coming end. And as we learn from
many other passages of Scripture, these signs, as they did usher in
the destruction of Jerusalem, so shall reappear on a larger scale
before the end of all things is at hand."
The next great paragraph of this speech dwelt mainly on the
immediate future. He had foretold distinctly the destruction of the
Holy City, and He now gives them indications which should fore
warn them of its approach, and lead them to secure their safety.
When they should see Jerusalem encompassed with armies — when
the abomination which should cause desolation should stand in the
Holy Place — then even from the fields, even from the housetops,
they were to fly out of Judsea to the shelter of the Trans-Jordanic
hills, from the unspeakable horrors that should follow. Nor even
then were they to be carried away by any deceivableness of unright
eousness, caused by the yearning intensity of Messianic hopes.
Many should cry, " Lo here ! and lo there ! " but let them pay no
heed ; for when He came, His presence, like lightning shining from
the east even to the west,1 should be visible and unmistakable to all
the world, and like eagles gathering to the carcase should the des
tined ministers of His vengeance wing their flight.3 By such warn-
1 Matt. xxiv. 8, dpxv aoSivaov. rWDn v^n, " les preludes de l'enfantement
messianique " 349 (Renan, L'Antechrist, p. 290). As to the fulfilment of these
prophecies, see Jos. Antt. xix. 1, § 2 ; Tac. Ann. xvi. 13 ; xii. 38 ; xv. 22 ; Sen. Ep.
91, and many other passages quoted by the commentators on this Gospel. The
"Jewish War" of Josephus alone shows how accurately our Lord's words fore
shadowed the future ; and Tacitus describing the same epoch (Hist. i. 2) calls it
" opimum casibus, atrox proeliis, discors seditionlbus, ipsa- etiam pace saevum," 3S0
and proceeds to speak of earthquakes (" haustae et obrutae urbes " 36'), adulteries,
treacheries, violences, pollutions.
2 See 1 Thess. v. 3 ; 2 Thess. ii. 2, &c.
3 On the interpretation of this symbol, see p. 138 on Luke xvii. 37. That the
" eagles " are primarily the Romans, finds additional illustration from the Book of
Enoch xcii., where Pagan foes are compared to ravens and eagles. Legionary
eagles were the very commonest symbols on Roman colonial coins, and so many

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 545
ings the Christians were preserved. Before John of Giscala had
shut- the gates of Jerusalem, and Simon of Gerasa had begun to
murder the fugitives, so that " he who escaped the tyrant within the
wall was destroyed by the other that lay before the gates" ' — before
the Roman eagle waved her wing over the doomed city, or the
infamies of lust and murder had driven every worshipper in horror
from the Temple Courts " — the Christians had taken timely warning,
and in the little Persean town of Pella,3 were beyond the reach of
all the robbery, and murder, and famine, and cannibalism, and
extermination which made the siege of Jerusalem a scene of greater
tribulation than any that has been since the beginning of the world.4
Then Jesus passed to the darkening of the sun and moon, and the
falling of the stars, and the shaking of the powers of heaven — signs
which may have a meaning both literal and metaphorical — which
should precede the appearing of the Son of Man in heaven, and the
gathering of the elect from the four winds by the trumpet-blast of the
angels. That day of the Lord should have its signs no less than the
other, and He bade His disciples in all ages to mark those signs and
interpret them aright, even as they interpreted the signs of the coming
summer in the fig-tree's budding leaves. But that day should come
to the world suddenly, unexpectedly, overwhelmingly; and as it
should be a day of reward to all faithful servants, so should it be a
day of vengeance and destruction to the glutton and the drunkard,
to the hypocrite and the oppressor. Therefore, to impress yet more
indelibly upon their minds the lessons of watchfulness and faithful
ness, and to warn them yet more emphatically agamst the peril of
the drowsy life and the smouldering lamp,6 He told them the exquisite
are still found in the East that they must have been very familiar to the Jews, who
regarded them with special detestation. (Akerman, p. 15.) Cf. Jos. Antt. xvii. 6,
§3- 1 Jos. B. J. iv. 9, § 10.
2 On the outrages of the Zealots, see Jos. B. J. iv. 3, § 7. The terrifying usur
pation of the Temple by these dreadful and murderous fanatics best corresponds
with the fiSeXvypa riji ipr/paodEGoi (comp. Dan. xii. 11 ; 1 Mace. i. 54), of which
the first reference was to the profanation caused by Antiochus Epiphanes. On this
" desolating wing of Abomination," see the note of Bishop Wordsworth.
a Euseb. (Hist. Eccl. iii. 5) says that they fled there in consequence of " a certain
oracular utterance," and Epiphanius (Haer. i. 123) that they were warned by an
angel .
4 Matt. xxiv. 21. See Jos. B. J. v. 10, § 5, where he expressly says that there
had been no generation so wicked, and no city so " plunged in misery from the
beginning of the world."
5 Matt. xxv. 8, ai XapitdSsi fipaov djiivvvvrai, not " our lamps are gone
out" but " are smouldering," " are being quenched." The light of God's Holy
69

546 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Parables — so beautiful, so simple, yet so rich in instruction — of the
Ten Yirgins and of the Talents ; and drew for them a picture of" that
Great Day of Judgment on which the King should separate all
nations from one another as the shepherd divideth his sheep from the
goats. On that day those who had shown the least kindness to the
least of these His brethren should be accounted to have done it unto
Him. But then, lest these grand eschatological utterances should
lead them to any of their old mistaken Messianic notions, He ended
tlem with the sad and now half -familiar refrain, that His death and
anguish must precede all else. The occasion, the manner, the very
day are now revealed to them with the utmost plainness and simplic
ity : " Ye know that after two days is the Passover, and the Son of
Man is betrayed to be crucified."
So ended that great discourse upon the Mount of Olives, and the
sun set, and He arose and walked with His Apostles the short remain
ing road to Bethany. It was the last time that He would ever walk
it upon earth ; and after the trials, the weariness, the awful teachings.
the terrible agitations of that eventful day, how delicious to Him
must have been that hour of twilight loveliness and evening calm ;
how refreshing the peace and affection which surrounded Him in the
quiet village and the holy home. As we have already noticed, Jesus
did not love cities, and scarcely ever slept within their precincts. He
shrank from their congregated wickednesses, from their glaring pub
licity, from their feverish excitement, from their featureless monotony,
with all the natural and instinctive dislike of delicate minds. An
Oriental city is always dirty ; the refuse is flung into the streets ;
there is no pavement ; the pariah dog is the sole scavenger ; beast
and man jostle each other promiscuously in the crowded thoroughfares.
And though the necessities of ' His work compelled Him to visit
Jerusalem, and to preach to the vast throngs from every climate and
country who were congregated at its yearly festivals, yet He seems
to have retired on every possible occasion beyond its gates, partly it
may be for safety — partly from poverty — partly because He loved
that sweet home at Bethany — and partly too, perhaps, because He
felt the peaceful joy of treading the grass that groweth on the moun
tains rather than the city stones, and could hold gladder communion
with His Father in heaven under the shadow of the olive-trees, where,
far from all disturbing sights and sounds, He could watch the splen
dor of the sunset and the falling of the dew.
Spirit is dying away in the " earthen vessels " of our life. To a train of thought
similar to the Parable of the Talents belongs the aypacpov Soy pa, " Be good
money-changers " (yivsdrs rpaiteZirai ddxipoi).

i ^

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 547
And surely that last evening walk to Bethany on that Tuesday
evening in Passion week must have breathed deep calm into His
soul. The thought, indeed, of the bitter cup which He was so soon
to drink was doubtless present to Him, but present only in its aspect
of exalted sacrifice, and the highest purpose of love fulfilled. Not
the pangs which He would suffer, but the pangs from which He
would save ; not the power of darkness which would seem to win a
short-lived triumph, but the redeeming victory — the full, perfect,
and sufficient atonement — these we may well, though reverently,
believe to have been the subjects which dominated in His thoughts.
The exquisite beauty of the Syrian evening, the tender colors of the
spring grass and flowers, the wadys around Him paling into solemn
grey, the distant hills bathed in the primrose light of sunset, the
coolness and balm of the breeze after the burning glare — what must
these have been to Him to whose eye the world of Nature was an
open book, on every page of which He read His Father's name!
And this was His native land. Bethany was almost to Him a second
Nazareth ; those whom He loved were around Him, and He was
going to those whom He loved. Can we not imagine Him walking
on in silence too deep for words — His disciples around Him or
following Him — the gibbous moon beginning to rise and gild the
twinkling foliage of the olive trees with richer silver, and moonlight
and twilight blending at each step insensibly with the garish hues of
day, like that solemn twilight-purple of coming agony into which the
noon-day of His happier ministry had long since begun to fade?

548 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER LIY.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
" So they weighed for my price thirty pieces of silver." — Zech. xi. 12.
It was inevitable that the burning words of indignation which Jesus
had uttered on this last great day of His ministry should exasperate
beyond all control the hatred and fury of the priestly party among
the Jews. Not only had they been defeated and abashed ' in open
encounter in the very scene of their highest dignity, and in the
presence of their most devoted adherents ; not only had they been
forced to confess their ignorance of that very Scripture exegesis which
was their recognized domain, and their incapacity to pronounce an
opinion on a subject respecting which it was their professed duty to
decide ; but, after all this humiliation, He whom they despised as the
young and ignorant Rabbi of Nazareth — He who neglected their
customs and discountenanced their* traditions — He on whose words,
to them so pernicious, the people hung in rapt attention — had sud
denly turned upon them, within hearing of the very Hall of Meet
ing, and had pronounced upon them — upon them in the odor of their
sanctity — upon them who were accustomed to breathe all their lives
the incense of unbounded adulation — a woe so searching, so scath
ing, so memorably intense, that none who heard it could forget it for
evermore. It was time that this should end. Pharisees, Sadducees,
Herodians, Priests, Scribes, Elders, Annas the astute and tyrannous,
Caiaphas the abject and servile, were all now aroused ; and, dreading
they knew not what outburst of religious anarchy, which would shake
the very foundations of their system, they met together probably on
that very evening in the Palace of Caiaphas,1 sinking all their own
differences in a common inspiration of hatred against that long-
promised Messiah in whom they only recognized a common enemy.
It was an alliance, for His destruction, of fanaticism, unbelief, and
worldliness ; the rage of the bigoted, the contempt of the atheist, and
the dislike of the utilitarian ; and it seemed but too clear that from
the revengeful hate of such a combination no earthly power was
adequate to save.
1 The name Caiaphas — a surname of the High Priest Joseph — is only another
form of Kephas, " a stone " (Salvador, Vie de Jisus, ii. 104).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. I
Of the particulars of the meeting we know nothing ; but
Evangelists record the two conclusions at which the high conspira
arrived — the one a yet more decisive and emphatic renewal of
vote that He must, at all hazards, be put to death without delay ;
other, that it must be done by subtilty, and not by violence, for i
of the multitude ; and that, for the same reason — not because of
sacredness of the Feast — the murder must be postponed, until
conclusion of the Passover had caused the dispersion of the count
pilgrims to their own homes.
This meeting was held, in all probability, on the evening of Tt
day, while the passions which the events of that day had kindled w
still raging with volcanic energy. So that, at the very moment wl
they were deciding that during that Easter-tide our Passover sho
not be slain — at that very moment, seated on the slopes of Olr
Jesus was foretelling to His disciples, with the calmest certair
that He should be sacrificed on the very day on which, at eveni
the lamb was sacrificed, and the Paschal feast began.
Accordingly, before the meeting was over, an event occurred wl
at' once altered the conclusions of the council, and rendered poss
the immediate capture of Jesus without the tumult which t
dreaded. The eight days' respite from the bitter sentence of de
which their terror, not their mercy, had accorded Him, was to
withdrawn, and the secret blow was to be struck at once.
For before they separated a message reached them which she
gleam of fierce joy into their hearts, while we may well imagine t
it also filled them with something of surprise and awe. Consci
as they must have been in their inmost hearts how deep was
crime which they intended to commit, it must have almost starl
them thus to find " the tempting opportunity at once meeting
guilty disposition," and the Evil Spirit making their way strai
before their face. They were informed that the man who kr
Jesus, who had been with Him, who had been His disciple — n
more, one of the Twelve — was ready to put an immediate end
their perplexities, and to re-open with them the communication wh
he had already made.
The house of Caiaphas was probably in or near the Temple j
cincts. The gates both of the city and of the Temple were usus
closed at sundown, but at the time of this vast yearly gathering
was natural that the rules should , have been a little relaxed for
general convenience ; and when Judas slank away from his breth:
on that fatal evening he would rely on being admitted without d:
culty within the city precincts, and into the presence of the assemb

550 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
elders. He applied accordingly to the " captains " of the Temple, the
members of the Levitical guard who had the care of the sacred build
ings,1 and they at once announced his message, and brought him in
person before the priests and rulers of the Jews.
Some of the priests had already seen him at their previous meet
ing ; others would doubtless recognize him. If Judas resembled the
conception of him which tradition has handed down —
" That furtive mien, that scowling eye,
Of hair that red and tufted fell " —
they could have hardly failed to notice the man of Kerioth as one of
those who followed Jesus — perhaps to despise and to detest Him, as
almost the only Jew among the Galilsean Apostles. And now they
were to be leagued with him in wickedness. The fact that one who
had lived with Jesus, who had heard all He had said and seen all He
had done — was yet ready to betray Him — strengthened them in
their purpose ; the fact that they, the hierarchs and nobles, were
ready not only to praise, but even to reward Judas for what he pro
posed to do, strengthened him, in his dark and desperate design. As
in water face answereth to face, so did the heart of Judas and of the
Jews become assimilated by the reflection of mutual sympathy. As
iron sharpeneth iron, so did the blunt weapon of his brutal anger give
fresh edge to then polished hate.
Whether the hideous demand for blood-money had come from him
or had been suggested by them ; whether it was paid immediately or
only after the arrest ; whether the wretched and paltry sum given —
thirty shekels, the price of the meanest slave " — -was the total reward,
or only the earnest of a further and larger sum — these are questions
which would throw a strong light on the character and motives of
Judas, but to which the general language of the Evangelists enables
us to give no certain answer. The details of the transaction were
probably but little known. Neither Judas nor his venerable abettors
had any cause to dwell on them with satisfaction. The Evangelists
and the early Christians generally, when they speak of Judas, seem
to be filled with a spirit of shuddering abhorrence too deep for
words. Only one dark fact stood out before their hnagination in all
its horror, and that was that Judas was a traitor ; that Judas had
been one of the Twelve, and yet had sold his Lord. Probably he
received the money, such as it was, at once. With the gloating eyes
of that avarice which was his besetting sin, he might gaze on the
1 See 2 Chron. xxxv. 8 ; Acts iv. 1 ; v. 24.
2 About £3 16s. (Exod. xxi. 32 ; cf. Gen. xxxvii. 28 ; Zech. xi. 12, 13).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. ' 55 1
silver coins, stamped (oh ! strange irony of history !) on one side with
an olive branch, the symbol of peace, on the other with a censer, the
type of prayer, and bearing on them the superscription, " Jerusalem
the Holy." ' And probabiy if those elders chaffered with him after
the fashion of their race, as the narrative seems to imply, they might
have represented that, after all, his agency was unessential ; that he
might do them a service which would be regarded as a small con
venience, but that they could carry out their purpose, if they chose,
without his aid. One thing, however, is certain: he left them a
pledged traitor, and henceforth only sought the opportunity to betray
his Master when no part of the friendly multitude was near.
What were the motives of this man ? Who can attempt to fathom
the unutterable abyss, to find his way amid the weltering chaos, of a
heart agitated by unresisted and besetting sins ? The Evangelists
can say nothing but that Satan entered into him. The guilt of the
man seemed to them too abnormal for any natural or human expla
nation. The narratives of the Synoptists point distinctly to avarice
as the cause of his ruin." They place his first overtures to the San
hedrin in close and pointed connection with the qualm of disgust he
felt at being unable to secure any pilf erings from the " three hun
dred pence," of which, since ±hey might have come into his posses
sion, he regarded himself as having been robbed ; and St. John, who
can never speak of him without a shudder of disgust, says in so
many words that he was an habitual thief.3 How little insight can
they have into the fatal bondage and diffusiveness of a besetting sin,
into the. dense spiritual blindness and awful infatuation with which
it confounds the guilty, who cannot believe in so apparently inade
quate a motive ! Yet the commonest observance of daily facts which
1 In Matt. xxvi. 15, Edrrjdav avrap seems to mean "they paid," literally
" weighed" (cf, LXX., Zech. xi. 12, 13). It cannot be rendered with the Vulgate,
" constituerunt ei," 351 1 which is used to harmonize it with Mark xiv. 11 (iitr/yysi-
AttjTo)andLuke xxii. 5 (dwiBevro). In these matters, unimportant as regarded
their purpose, the Evangelists do not profess a rigidly minute accuracy. I should
infer, however, that Judas twice went before the priests — once to promise the
betrayal, and another time to arrange its details. Perhaps the money had been
promised on the first occasion, and paid on the second. St. Matthew only alludes
vaguely to the words of Zechariah. The supposed relation between the two-
passages may be seen in Keil, Minor Prophets, ii. 373 (E. Tr.).
2 We conclude that the loss of the 300 pence was the cause of the betrayal, from
the pointed manner in which the latter is narrated in immediate proximity to the
¦ former; just as we conjecture that Nadab and Abihu were intoxicated when they
offered " strange fire," from the prohibition of strong drink to the priests immedi
ately after the narration of their fate (Lev. x. 1 — 11).
3 Johu xii. 6.

552 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
come before our notice in the moral world, might serve to show that
the commission of crime results as frequently from a motive that
seems miserably small and inadequate, as from some vast and abnor
mal temptation. Do we not read in the Old Testament of those that
pollute God among the people " for handf uls of barley and for pieces
of bread ; " of those who sell " the righteous for silver and the poor
for a pair of shoes?" ' The sudden crisis of temptation might seem
frightful, but its issue was decided by the entire tenor of his previous
life ; the sudden blaze of lurid light was but the outcome of that
which had long burnt and smouldered deep within his heart.
Doubtless other motives mingled with,. strengthened — perhaps to
the self -deceiving and blinded soul substituted themselves for — the
predominant one. " Will not this measure," he may have thought,
"force Him to declare His Messianic kingdom? At the worst, can
He not easily save Himself by miracle ? If not, has He not told us
repeatedly that He will die ; and if so, why may I not reap a little
advantage from that which is in any case inevitable ? Or will it not,
perhaps, be meritorious to do that of which all the chief priests
approve ? " A thousand such devilish suggestions may have formu
lated themselves in the traitor's heart, and mingled with them was
the revulsion of feeling which he suffered from finding that his self-
denial in following Jesus would,' after all, be apparently in vain ;
that he would gain from it not rank and wealth, but only poverty and
persecution. Perhaps, too, there was something of rancor at being
rebuked ; perhaps something of bitter jealousy at being less loved by
Christ than his fellows ; perhaps something of frenzied disappoint
ment at the prospect of failure; perhaps something of despairing
hatred at the consciousness that he was suspected. Alas ! sins grow
and multiply with fatal diffusiveness, and blend insensibly with hosts
of their evil kindred. " The whole moral nature is clouded by them ;
the intellect darkened ; the spirit stained." Probably by this time a
turbid confused chaos of sins was weltering in the soul of Judas —
malice, worldly ambition, theft, hatred of all that was good and pure,
base ingratitude, frantic anger, all culminating in this foul and fright
ful act of treachery — all rushing with blind, bewildering fury through
this gloomy soul.
" Satan entered into him." That, after all, whether a literal or a
metaphorical expression," best describes his awful state. It was a

1 Ezek. xiii. 19 ; Amos ii. 6 ; viii. 6.
2 " Satan " is sometimes, if not always, used by our Lord in senses obviously
metaphorical (Matt. xvi. 23; Luke x. 18; xiii. 16, &c).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 553
madness of disenchantment from selfish hopes. Having persuaded
himself that the New Kingdom was a mere empty fraud, he is suf
fered to become the victim of a delusion, which led him into a terri
ble conviction that he had flung away the substance for a shadow.
-It had not been always thus with him. He had not been always bad.
The day had been when he was an innocent boy — a youth sufficiently
earnest to be singled out from other disciples as oue of the Twelve
— a herald of the New Kingdom not without high hopes. The pov
erty and the wanderings of the early period of the ministry may have
protected him from temptation. The special temptation — trebly
dangerous, because it appealed to his besetting sin — may have begun
at that period when our Lord's work assumed a slightly more
settled and organized character.1 ' Even then it did not master him
at once. He had received warnings of fearful solemnity ; * for some
time there may have been hope for him ; he may have experienced
relapses into dishonesty after recoveries of nobleness. But as he did
not master his sin, his sin mastered him, and led him on, as a slave,
to his retribution and ruin. Did he slink back to Bethany that night
with the blood-money in his bag ? Did he sleep among his fellow-
apostles? — All that we know is that henceforth he was ever anx
iously, eagerly, suspiciously upon the watch.
And the next day — the Wednesday in Passion week — must have
baffled him. Each day Jesus had left Bethany in the morning and
had gone to Jerusalem. Why did He not go on that day ? Did He
suspect treachery ? That day in the Temple Courts the multitude
listened for His voice in vain. Doubtless the people waited for Him
with intense expectation ; doubtless the priests and Pharisees looked
out for Him with sinister hope ; but He did not come. The day
was spent by Him in deep seclusion, so far as we know, in perfect
rest and silence. He prepared Himself in peace and prayer for the
awfulness of His coming struggle. It may be that He wandered
alone to the hilly uplands above and around the quiet village, and
there, under the vernal sunshine, held high communing with His
Father in heaven. But How the day was passed by Him we do not
know. A veil of holy silence falls over it. He was surrounded by
the few who loved Him and believed in Him. To them He may
have spoken, but His work as a teacher on earth was done'.
And on that night He lay down for the last time on earth. On
the Thursday morning, He woke never to sleep again.
1 Luke x. 3. * John vi. 70.
70

554 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.

CHAPTER LY.

THE LAST SUPPER.

ovx ecpays rov vopixov dpvdv . . . dXX' avvdi ditaBev &5s aXrjBrji
dpvdi.ih2 — Chron. Pasch., p. 12.
On the Tuesday evening in Passion week Jesus had spoken of the
Passover as the season of His death. If the customs enjoined by the
Law had been capable of rigid and exact fulfilment, the Paschal
lamb for the use of Himself and His disciples would have been set
apart on the previous Sunday evening ; but although, since the days
of the exile, the Passover had been observed, it is probable that the
changed circumstances of the nation had introduced many natural
and perfectly justifiable changes in the old regulations. It would
have been a simple impossibility for the myriads of pilgrims to pro
vide themselves beforehand with a Paschal lamb.
It was on the morning of Thursday — Green Thursday as it used
to be called during the Middle Ages — that some conversation took
place between Jesus and His disciples about the Paschal feast.
They asked Him where He wished the preparation for it to be made.
As He had now withdrawn from all public teaching, and was spend
ing this Thursday, as He had spent the previous day, in complete
seclusion, they probably expected that He would eat the Passover at
Bethany, which for such purposes had been decided by rabbinical
authority to be within the limits of Jerusalem. But His plans were
otherwise. He, the true Paschal Lamb, was to be sacrificed once
and for ever in the Holy City, where it is probable that in that very
Passover, and on the very same day, some 260,000 of those lambs of
which He was the antitype were destined to be slain.
Accordingly He sent Peter and John to Jerusalem, and appoint
ing for them a sign both mysterious and secret, told them that on
entering the gate they would meet a servant carrying a pitcher of
water from one of the fountains for evening use ; following him they
would reach a house, to the owner of which they were to intimate
the intention of the Master1 to eat the Passover there with His
disciples; and this householder — conjectured by some to have been
1 Mark xiv. 14. The expression seems to imply that the owner of the house
was a disciple ; and still more the message, " My time is at hand."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 555
Joseph of Arimathsea, by others John Mark — would at once place
at their disposal a furnished upper room, ready provided with the
requisite table and couches.1 They found all as Jesus had said, and
there " made ready the Passover." Full reasons will, however, be
given in the Excursus for believing that this was not the ordinary
Jewish Passover, but a meal eaten by our Lord and His Apostles on
the previous evening, Thursday, Nisan 13, to which a quasi-Paschal
character was given, but which was intended to supersede the Jewish
festival by one of far deeper and diviner significance."
It was towards the evening, probably when the gathering dusk
would prevent all needless observation, that Jesus and His' disciples
walked from Bethany, by that old familiar road oyer the mount of
Olives, which His sacred feet were never again destined to traverse
until after death. How far they attracted attention, or how it was
that He whose person was known to so many — and who, as the
great central figure of such great counter-agitations, had, four days
before, been accompanied with shouts of triumph, as He would be,
on the following day, with yells of insult — could now enter Jerusa
lem unnoticed with His followers, we cannot tell. We catch no
glimpse of the little company till we find them assembled in that
" large upper room " — perhaps the very room where three days
afterwards the sorrow-stricken Apostles first saw their risen Saviour —
perhaps the very room where, amid the sound of a rushing mighty
wind, each meek brow was first mitred with Pentecostal flame.
When they arrived, the meal was ready, the table spread, the
triclinia laid with cushions for the guests. Imagination loves to
reproduce all the probable details of that deeply moving and eternally
sacred-scene; and if we compare the notices of ancient Jewish cus
tom, 'with the immemorial fashions still existing in the changeless
East, we can feel but little doubt as to the general nature of the
arrangements. They were totally unlike those with which the genius
of Leonardo da Yinci, and other great painters, has made us so
familiar. The room probably had white walls, and was bare of all
except the most necessary furniture and adornment. The couches
or cushions, each large enough to hold three persons, were placed
around three sides of one or more low tables of gaily painted wood,
each scarcely higher than stools. The seat of honor was the central
one of the central triclinium,, or mat. This was, of course, occupied
by the Lord. Each guest reclined at full length, leaning on his left
1 Mark xiv. 15, idrpaopsvov ; cf. drpaodov dsavrao (Acts ix. 34). The notion
that the word means " paved" is an error. See Ezek. xxiii. 41, LXX.
2 See Excursus X., " Was the Last Supper an Actual Passover ? "

556 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
elbow, that his right hand might be free.1 At the right hand of
Jesus reclined the beloved disciple, whose head therefore could, at
any moment/be placed upon the breast of his friend and Lord.
It may be that the very act of taking their seats at the table had,
once more, stirred up in the minds of the Apostles those disputes
about precedence" which, on previous occasions, our Lord had so
tenderly and beautifully rebuked.3 The mere question of a place at
table might seem a matter too infinitesimal and unimportant to ruf
fle the feelings of good and self-denying men at an hour so supreme
and solemn ; but that love for " the chief seats " at feasts and else
where, which Jesus had denounced in the Pharisees, is not only
innate in the human heart, but is even so powerful that it has at
times caused the most terrific tragedies.4 But at this moment, when
the sOul of Jesus was full of such sublime purpose — when He was
breathing the pure unmingled air of Eternity, and the Eternal was
to Him, in spite of His mortal investiture, not only the present but
the seen — a strife of this kind must have been more than ever pain
ful. It showed how little, as yet, even these His chosen followers
had entered into the meaning of His life. It showed that the evil
spirits of pride and selfishness were not yet exorcised from their
struggling souls. It showed that, even now, they had wholly failed
to understand His many and earnest warnings as to the nature of
His kingdom, and the certainty of His fate. That some great crisis
was at hand — that their Master was to suffer and be slain — they
must have partially realized ; but they seem to have regarded this as
a mere temporary obscuration, to be followed by an immediate divul-
gence of His splendor, and the setting up on earth of His Messianic
throne. In pained silence Jesus had heard their murmured jealousies, while
they were arranging their places at the feast.6 Not by mere verbal

1 The custom of eating the Passover standing had long been abandoned.
Reclining was held to be the proper attitude, because it was that of free men
(Maimon. Pesach. 10, 1).
2 Luke xxii. 24.
3 Mark ix. 34; Matt, xviii. 1. See supra, pp. 389, 487. It is a. not impossible
conjecture that the dispute may have been stirred up by a claim of Judas as being
an office-bearer in the little band.
4 Many will recall the famous scene between Criemhilt and Brunhilt In the
Niebelungen. In the Middle Ages blood was shed at the very altar of St. John's
Lateran in a furious dispute about precedence between an abbot and a bishop.
6 John xiii. 2. yivopivov (x, B, L. &c.) is probably the right reading, but even
yevopivov cannot mean " supper being ended," as in the E. V. (see xiii. 26), but
" when it was supper-time."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 557
reproof, but by an act more profoundly significant and touching, He
determined to teach to them, and to all who love Him, a nobler
lesson. Every Eastern room, if it belongs to any but the very poorest, has
the central part of the floor covered with mats, and as a person
enters, he lays aside his sandals at the door of the room, mainly in
order not to defile the clean white mats with the dust and dirt of the
road or streets, and also (at any rate among Mahometans) because
the mat is hallowed by being knelt upon in prayer. Before they
reclined at the table, the disciples had doubtless conformed to this
cleanly and reasonable custom ; but another customary and pleasant
habit, which we know that Jesus appreciated, had been neglected.
Their feet must have been covered with dust from their walk along
the hot and much frequented road from Bethany to Jerusalem, and
under such circumstances they would have been refreshed for the
festival by washing their feet after putting off their sandals. But to
wash the feet was the work of slaves ; and since no one had offered
to perform the kindly office, Jesus Himself, in His eternal humility
and self-denial, rose from His place at the meal to do the menial ser
vice which none of His disciples had offered to do for Him.1 Well
may the amazement of the beloved disciple show itself in his narra
tive, as he dwells on every particular of that solemn scene. " Though
He knew that the Father had given all things into His hands, and
that He came from God and was going to God, He arose from the
supper and laid aside His garments, and taking a towel, girded Him
self." It is probable that in the utterness of self-abnegation, He
entirely stripped His upper limbs, laying aside both the simchah and
the cetdneth, as though He had been the meanest slave, and wrapping
the towel round His waist. Then pouring water into the large copper
basin with which an Oriental house is always provided, He began
without a word to wash His disciples' feet, and wipe them dry with
the towel which served Him as a girdle. Awe and shame kept them
silent until He came to Peter, whose irrepressible emotions found
vent in the surprised, half -indignant question, " Lord, dost Thou seek
to wash my feet ? " Thou, the Son of God, the King of Israel, who
hast the words of eternal life — Thou, whose feet Oriental kings
should anoint with their costliest spikenard, and penitents bathe in
precious tears — dost thou wash Peter's feet ? It was the old dread
and self-depreciation which, more than three years before, had
prompted the cry of the rude fisherman of Galilee, " Depart from
1 John xiii. 1—20.

558 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
me, for I am a, sinful man, 0 Lord ; " ' it was the old self-will which,
a year before, had expressed itself in the self-confident dissuasion of
the elated Man of Rock — " That be far from Thee, Lord ; this shall
not happen unto Thee." " Gently recognizing what was good in His
impetuous follower's ejaculation, Jesus calmly tells him that as yet
he is too immature to understand the meaning of His actions, though
the day should come when their significance should dawn upon him.
But Peter, obstinate and rash — as though he felt, even more than
his Lord, the greatness of Him that ministered, and the meanness of
him to whom the service would be done — persisted in his opposition :
"Never, never, till the end of time,"3 he impetuously exclaims;
" shalt thou wash my feet ? " But then Jesus revealed to him the
dangerous selt-assertion which lurked in this false humility. " If I
wash thee not, thou hast no share with me." Alike, thy self-conceit
and" thy self -disgust must be laid aside if thou wouldest be mine. My
follower must accept my will, even when he least can comprehend it,
even when it seems to violate his own conceptions of what I am.
That calm word changed the whole current of thought and feeling
in the warm-hearted passionate disciple. " No share with Thee ? oh,
forbid it, Heaven ! Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and
my head ! " But no : once more he must accept what Christ wills,
not in his own way, but in Christ's way. This total washing was not
needed. The baptism of his initiation was over ; in that laver of
regeneration he had been already dipped. Nothing more was needed
than the daily cleansing from minor and freshly-contracted stains.
The feet soiled with the clinging dust of daily sins, these must be
washed in daily renovation ; but the heart and being of the man,
these were already washed, were cleansed, were sanctified. " Jesus
saith to him, He that is bathed (XeXovpievos) hath no need save to
wash (viipacrdai) his feet, but is clean every whit. And ye are
clean ; " and then He was forced to add with a deep sigh, " but not
all." The last words were an allusion to His consciousness of one
traitorous presence ; for He knew, what as yet they knew not, that
the hands of the Lord of Life had just washed the traitor's feet. Oh,
strange unfathomable depth of human infatuation and ingratitude !
that traitor, with all the black and accursed treachery in his false
heart, had seen, had known, had suffered it ; had felt the touch of
those kind and gentle hands, had been refreshed by the cleansing
' See supra, p. 198.
'-' See supra, p. 376.
8 John xiii. 8, ov pi) . . . sti rov aiaova.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 559
water, had seen that sacred head bent over his feet, yet stained as
they yet were with the hurried secret walk which had taken him into
the throng of sanctimonious murderers over the shoulder of Olivet.
But for him there had been no purification in that lustral water ;
neither was the devil within him exorcised by that gentle voice, nor
the leprosy of his heart healed by that miracle-producing touch.
The other Apostles did not at the moment notice that grievous
exception — ¦ " but not all." It may be that their consciences gave to
all, even to the most faithful, too sad a cause to echo the words, with
something of misgiving, to his own soul. Then Jesus, after having
washed their feet, resumed His garments, and once more reclined at
the meal. As He leaned there on His left elbow, John lay at his
right, with his head quite close to Jesus' breast. Next to John, and
at the top of the. next mat or cushion, would probably be his brother
James ; and — as we infer from the few details of the meal — at the
left of Jesus lay the Man of Kerioth, who may either have thrust
himself into that position, or who, as the holder of the common purse,
occupied a place of some prominence among the little band. It
seems probable that Peter's place was at the top of the next mat, and
at the left of Judas. And as the meal began, Jesus taught them
what His act had meant. Rightly, and with proper respect, they
called Him " Master " and " Lord," for so He was ; yet, though the
Lord is greater than the slave, the Sender greater than His Apostle,
He their Lord and Master had washed their feet. It was a kind and
gracious task, and such ought to be the nature of all their dealings
with each other. He had done it to teach them humility, to teach
them self-denial, to teach them love : blessed they if they learnt the
lesson ! blessed if they learnt that the struggles for precedence, the
assertions of claims, the standings upon dignity, the fondness for the
mere exercise of authority, marked the tyrannies and immaturities of
heathendom, and that the greatest Christian is ever the humblest.
He should be chief among them who, for the sake of, others, gladly
laid on himself the lowliest burdens, and sought for himself the
humblest services. Again and again He warned them that they were
not to look for earthly reward or earthly prosperity ; the throne, and
the 'table, and the kingdom, and the many mansions were not of
earth.1

1 It is probable that to find the full scope of what Jesus taught on this occasion
we must combine (as I have done) Luke xxii. 24 — 30 with John xiii. 1 — 17. In
Luke xxii. 25 is illustrated, by the title EvEpyiriji, "benefactor," common on
the coins of the Syrian kings.

560 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
And then again the trouble of His spirit broke forth. He was
speaking of those whom He had chosen ; He was not speaking of
them all. Among the blessed company sat one who even then was
drawing on his own head a curse. It had been so with David, whose
nearest friend had become his bitterest foe ; it was foreordained that
it should be so likewise with David's Son. Soon should they know
with what full foreknowledge He had gone to all that awaited Him;
soon should they be able to judge that, just as the man who receives
in Christ's name His humblest servant receiveth Him, so the rejec
tion of Him is the rejection of His Father, and that this rejection of
the Living God was the crime which at this moment was being com
mitted, and committed in their very midst.
There, next but one to Him, hearing all these words unmoved,
full of spite and hatred, utterly hardening his heart, and leaning the
whole weight of his demoniac possession against that door of mercy
which even now and even here His Saviour would have opened to
him, sat Judas, the false smile of hypocrisy on his face, but rage, and
shame, and greed, and anguish, and treachery in his heart. The near
presence of that black iniquity, the failure of even His pathetic low
liness to move or touch the man's hideous purpose, troubled the
human heart of Jesus to its inmost depths — wrung from Him His
agony of yet plainer prediction, " Yerily, verily, I say unto you, that
one of you shall betray me ! " That night all, even the best beloved,
were to forsake Him, but it was not that ; that night even the bold
est-hearted was to deny Him with oaths, but it was not that ; nay,
but one of them was to betray Him. Their hearts misgave them as
they listened. Already a deep unspeakable sadness had fallen over
the sacred meal. Like the sombre and threatening crimson that
intermingles with the colors of sunset, a dark omen seemed to be
overshadowing them — a shapeless presentiment of evil — an unspo
ken sense of dread. If all their hopes were to be thus blighted — if
at this very Passover, He for whom they had given up all, and who
had been to them all in all, was indeed to be betrayed by one of
themselves to an unpitied and ignominious end — if this were possi
ble, anything seemed possible. Their hearts were troubled. All
their want of nobility, all their failure in love, all the depth of their
selfishness, all the weakness of their faith —
' ' Every evil thought they ever thought,
And every evil word they ever said,
And every evil thing they ever did,"
all crowded upon their memories, and made their consciences afraid.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 561
None of them seemed safe from anything, and each read his own
self-distrust in his brother-disciple's eye. And hence, at that moment
of supreme sadness and almost despair, it was with lips that fal
tered and cheeks that paled, that each asked the humble ques
tion, " Lord, is it I ? " Better always that question than " Is it
he f " — better the penitent watchfulness of a self-condemning humil
ity than the haughty Pharisaism of censorious pride. The very
horror that breathed through their question, the very trustfulness
which prompted it, involved their acquittal. Jesus only remained
silent, in order that even then, if it were possible, there might be
time for Judas to repent. But Peter was unable to restrain his sor
row and his impatience. Eager to know and to prevent the treachery
— unseen by Jesus, whose back was turned to him as He reclined at
the meal — he made a signal to John to ask " who it was." '• The
head of John was close to Jesus, and laying it with affectionate
trustfulness on his Master's breast, he said in a whisper, " Lord, who
is it?"" The reply, given in a tone equally low, was heard by St.
John alone, and confirmed the suspicions with which it is evident
that the repellant nature of Judas had already inspired him. At
Eastern- meals all the guests eat with their fingers out of a common
dish, and it is common for one at times to dip into the dish a piece
of the thin flexible cake of bread which is placed by each, and taking
up with it a portion of the meat or rice in the dish, to hand it to
another guest. So ordinary an incident of any daily meal would
attract no notice whatever.3 Jesus handed to the traitor Apostle a
"sop" of this kind, and this, as He told St: John, was the sign which
should indicate to him, and possibly through him to St. Peter, which
was the guilty member of the little band. And then He added
aloud, in words which can have but one significance, in words the
most awful and crushing that ever passed His lips, " The Son of
Man goeth indeed, as it is written of Him; but woe unto that
man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed ! It were good for that
1 John xiii. 24. This is the reading of many MSS. (K, A, D, E, F, &c), and of our
version ; but many good MSS. (B, C, L) read elite rz'S idn ; as though St; Peter
assumed that the beloved disciple, at any rate, must know the secret. Perhaps
the true rendering should be, " Say " (to Jesus), *' Who is it ? "
2 John xiii. 23, dvaxsipEvoi iv too xoXitap ; ver. 25, iitiitEdabv iiti rd drrjBoi
(K, A, D, dto.). The ovraoi of B, C, L makes it still more graphic. The impres
sion made by this affectionate change of attitude may be seen from John xxi. 20
(dve'itedev), and the change from xoXitoi to drrjBoi marks the eye-witness.
3 We can hardly argue frem rd rpvfiXiov that there was only one dish, though
this is in itself probable enougn. ; nor need rov aprov (Matt. xxvi. 26) imply that
there was but one loaf.
71

562 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
man if he had not been born ! " " Words," it has been well said,
" of immeasurable ruin, words of immeasurable woe " — and the
more terrible because uttered by the lips of immeasurable Love;
words capable, if any were capable, of revealing to the lost soul of
the traitor all the black gulf of horror that was yawning before his
feet. He must have known something of what had passed ; he may
well have overheard some fragment of the conversation, or at least
have had a dim consciousness that in some way it referred to him.
He may even have been aware that when his hand met the hand of
Jesus over the dish there was some meaning in the action. When
the others were questioning among themselves "which was the
traitor ? " he had remained silent in the defiant hardness of contempt
or the sullen gloom of guilt; but now — -stung, it may be, by some
sense of the shuddering horror with which the mere possibility of
his guilt was regarded — he nerved himself for the shameful and
shameless question. After all the rest had sunk into silence, there
grated upon the Saviour's ear that hoarse untimely whisper, in
all the bitterness of its defiant mockery — not asking, as the rest had
asked, in loving reverence, " Lord, is it I ? " but with the cold formal
title, "Rabbi, is it I ? " Then that low unreproachf ul answer, " Thou
hast said," sealed his guilt. The rest did not hear it ; it was probably
caught by Peter and John alone ; and Judas ate the sop which Jesus
had given him, and after the sop Satan entered into him. As all the
winds, on some night of storm, riot and howl through the rent walls of
some desecrated shrine, so through the ruined life of Judas envy and
avarice, and hatred and ingratitude, were rushing all at once. In
that bewildering chaos of a soul spotted with mortal guilt, the Satanic
had triumphed over the human ; in that dark heart earth and hell
were thenceforth at one ; in that lost soul sin had conceived and
brought forth death. " What thou art doing, do more quickly," said
Jesus to him aloud. He knew what the words implied, he knew
that they meant, " Thy fell purpose is matured, carry it out with no
more of these futile hypocrisies and meaningless delays." Judas rose
from the feast. The innocent-hearted Apostles thought that Jesus
had bidden him go out and make purchases for to-morrow's Passover,
or give something out of the common store which should enable the
poor to buy their Paschal lamb. And so from the lighted room,
from the holy banquet, from the blessed company, from the presence
of his Lord, he went immediately out, and — as the beloved disciple
adds, with a shudder of dread significance letting the curtain of dark
ness fall for ever on that appalling figure — " and it was night."
We cannot tell with any certainty whether this took place before

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 563
or after the institution of the Lord's Supper — whether Judas partook
or not of those hallowed symbols. Nor can we tell whether at all,
or, if at all, to what extent, our Lord conformed the minor details of
His last supper to the half-joyous, half-mournful customs of the
Paschal feast ; nor, again, can we tell how far the customs of the
Passover in that day resembled those detailed to us in the Rabbinic
writings. Nothing could have been simpler than the ancient method
of their commemorating their deliverance from Egypt and from the
destroying angel. The central custom of the feast was the hasty eat
ing of the Paschal lamb, with unleavened bread and bitter herbs, in
a standing attitude, with loins girt and shoes upon the feet, as they
had eaten hastily on the night of their deliverance. In this way the
Passover is still yearly eaten by the Samaritans at the summit of
Gerizim,1 and there to this day they will hand to the stranger the
little olive-shaped morsel of unleavened bread, enclosing a green
fragment of wild endive or some other bitter herb, which may per
haps resemble, except that it is not dipped in the dish, the very
ipwpiiov which Judas received at the hands of Christ. But even if
the Last Supper was a Passover, we are told that the Jews had long
ceased to eat it standing, or to observe the rule which forbade any
guest to leave the house till morning. They made, in fact, many rad
ical distinctions between the Egyptian (an)ia riDB) and the permanent
Passover (nnn hdb) which was subsequently observed. The latter
meal began by filling each guest a cup of wine, over which the head
of the family pronounced a benediction. After this the hands were
washed in a basin of water, and a table was brought in, on which
were placed the bitter herbs, the unleavened bread, the charoseth
(a dish made of dates, raisins, and vinegar), the paschal lamb, and
the flesh of the chagigah. The father dipped a piece of herb in
the charoseth, ate it, with a benediction, and distributed a similar
morsel to all. A second cup of wine was then poured out ; the young
est present inquired the meaning of the paschal night ; the father
replied with a full account of the observance ; the first part of the
Hallel (Ps. cvii. — cxiv.) was then sung, a blessing repeated, a third
cup of wine was drunk, grace was said, a fourth cup poured out, the
rest of the Hallel (Ps. cxv. — cxviii.) sung, and the ceremony ended
by the blessing of the song." Some, no doubt, of the facts mentioned
at the Last Supper may be brought into comparison with parts of

1 I was present at this interesting celebration on Gerizim, on April 15, 1870.
2 See the admirable article on the " Passover," by Dr. Ginsburg, in Kitto's C%

564 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
this ceremony. It appears, for instance, that the supper began with
a benediction, and the passing of a cup of wine, which Jesus bade
them divide among themselves, saying that He would not drink of
the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God should come.1 The
other cup — passed round after supper — has been identified by some
with the third cup, the Cos ha-berdchah or " cup of blessing " of the
Jewish ceremonial ; " and the hymn which was sung before the
departure of the fittle company to Gethsemane has, with much prob
ability, been supposed to be the second part of the Great Hallel.
The relation of these incidents of the meal to the various Paschal
observances which we have detailed is, however, doubtful. What is
not doubtful, and what has the deepest interest for all Christians,
is the establishment at this last supper of the Sacrament of the
Eucharist. Of this we have no fewer than four accounts — the brief
description of St. Paul agreeing in almost verbal exactness with those
of the Synoptists. In each account we clearly recognize the main
facts which St. Paul expressly tells us that " he had received of the
Lord " — viz., " that the Lord Jesus, on the same night in which He
was betrayed, took bread ; and when He had given thanks, He brake
it, and said, ' Take, eat ; this is my body which is broken for you ;
this do in remembrance of me.' After the same manner also He
took the cup when he had supped, saying, ' This cup is the New
Testament in my blood ; this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remem
brance of me.' " 3 Never since that memorable evening has the
Church ceased to observe the commandment of her Lord ; ever since
that day, from age to age, has this blessed and holy Sacrament been
a memorial of the death of Christ, and a strengthening and refresh
ing of the soul by the body and blood, as the body is refreshed and
strengthened by the bread and wine.4
1 Luke xxii. 17.
2 1 Cor. x. 16.
3 1 Cor. xi. 23—25.
4 The " transubstantiation " and " sacramental " controversies which have raged
for centuries round the Feast of Communion and Christian love are as heart-sad
dening as they are strange and needless. They would never have arisen if it had
been sufficiently observed that it was a characteristic of Christ's teaching to adopt
the language of picture and of emotion. But to turn metaphor into fact, poetry
into prose, rhetoric into logic, parable into systematic theology, is at once fatal
and absurd. It was to warn us against such error that Jesus said so emphatically:
"It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing : the words thai I speak
unto you, they are spirit and they are life " (John vi. 63).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 565

CHAPTER LYI.
THE LAST DISCOURSE.
" So the All-Great were the All-Loving too ;
So, through the thunder, comes a human voice,
Saying, 'A heart I made, a heart beats here.' "
R. Browning, Epistle of Karshish
No sooner had Judas left the room, than, as though they had been
relieved of some ghastly incubus, the spirits of the little company
revived. The presence of that haunted soul lay with a weight of I
horror on the heart of his Master, and no sooner had he departed
than the sadness of the feast seems to have been sensibly relieved.
The solemn exultation which dilated the soul of their Lord — that
joy like the sense of a boundless sunlight behind the earth-born
mists — communicated itself to the spirits of His followers. The
dull clouds caught the sunset coloring. In sweet and tender com
munion, perhaps two hours glided away at that quiet banquet.
Now it was' that, conscious of the impending separation, and fixed
unalterably in His sublime resolve, He opened His heart to the little
band of those who loved Him, and spoke among them those farewell
discourses preserved for us by St. John alone, so " rarely mixed of
sadness and joys, and studded with mysteries as with emeralds."
" Now," He said, as though with a sigh of relief, " now is the Son of
Man glorified, and God is glorified in Him." The hour of that
glorification — -the glorification which was to be won through the
path of humility and agony — was at hand. The time which
remained for Him to be with them was short ; as He had said to the
Jews, so now He said to them, that whither He was going they could
not come. And in telling them this, for the first and last time, He
calls them " little children." In that company were Peter and John,
men whose words and deeds should thenceforth influence the whole
world of man until the end — men who should become the patron
saints of nations — in whose honor cathedrals should be built, and
from whom cities should be named ; but their greatness was but a
dim faint reflection from His risen glory, and a gleam caught from
that Spirit which He would send. Apart from Him they were

566 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
nothing, and less than nothing — ignorant Galilsean fishermen, un
known and unheard of beyond their native village — having no
intellect and no knowledge save that He had thus regarded them as
His "little children." And though they could not follow Him
whither He went, yet He did not say to them, as He had said to the
Jews,1 that they should seek Him and not find Him. Nay, more,
He gave them a new commandment, by which, walking in His steps,
and being known by all men as His disciples, they should find Him
soon. That new commandment was that they should love one
another. In one sense, indeed, it was not new." Even in the law
of Moses (Lev. xix. 18), not only had there been room for ,the pre
cept, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," but that precept
had even been regarded by wise Jewish teachers as cardinal and
inclusive — as " the royal law according to the Scripture," as " the
message from the beginning." 3 And yet, as St. John points out in
his Epistle, though in one sense old, it was, in another, wholly new
— new in the new prominence given to it — new in the new motives
by which it was enforced — new because of the new example by
which it was recommended — new from the new influence which it
was henceforth destined to exercise. It was Love, as the test and
condition of discipleship, Love as greater than even Faith and Hope,
Love as the fulfilling of the Law.4
At this point St. Peter interposed a question. Before Jesus entered
on a new topic, he wished for an explanation of something which he
had not understood. Why was there this farewell aspect about the
Lord's discourse ? " Lord, whither goest thou ? "
" Whither I go thou canst not follow me now, but thou shalt fol
low me afterwards."
Peter now understood that death was meant, but why could he
not also die ? was he not as ready as Thomas to say, " Let us also -go
that we may die with Him ? " ° " Lord, why cannot I follow thee
now ? I will lay down my life for thy sake."
1 John vii. 34; viii. 21.
2 And it is observable that the word used is xaivoi, recens, not vedi, novus.
3 James ii. 8 ; 1 John iii. 11.
4 " Eor life, with all it yields of joy and woe,
And hope and fear— believe the aged friend —
Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love,
How love might be, hath been indeed, and is ;
And that we hold henceforth to the uttermost
Such prize, despite the envy of the world,
And having gained truth, keep truth ; that is a" "
R. Browning, "A Death in the Desert."
' John xi. 16.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 567
Why? Our Lord might have answered, Because the heart is
deceitful above all things ; because thy want of deep humility deceives
thee ; because it is hidden, even from thyself, how much there still
is of cowardice and self-seeking in thy motives. But He would not
deal thus with the noble-hearted but weak and impetuous Apostle,
whose love was perfectly sincere, though it did not stand the test.
He spares him all reproach ; only very gently He repeats the ques
tion, " Wilt thou lay down thy life for my sake ? Yerily, verily, I
say unto thee, The cock shall not crow till thou hast denied me
thrice ! " Already it was night ; ere the dawn of that fatal morning
shuddered in the eastern sky — before the cock-crow, uttered in the
deep darkness, prophesied that the dawn was near — Jesus would
have begun to lay down His life for Peter and for all who sin ; but
already by that time Peter, unmindful even of this warning, should
have thrice repudiated his Lord and Saviour, thrice have rejected as
a calumny and an insult the mere imputation that he even knew
Him. All that Jesus could do to save him from the agony of this
moral humiliation — by admonition, by tenderness, by prayer to His
Heavenly Father — -He had done. He had prayed for him that his
faith might not finally fail.1 Satan indeed had obtained permission to
sift them all " as wheat, and, in spite of all his self-confidence, in spite
of all his protested devotion, in spite of all his imaginary sincerity, he
should be but as the chaff. It is remarkable that in the parallel pas
sage of St. Luke occurs the only instance recorded in the Gospel of
our Lord having addressed Simon by that name of Peter which He
had Himself bestowed. It is as though He meant to remind the
Man of Rock that his strength lay, not in himself, but in that good
confession which he once had uttered. And yet Christ held out to
him a gracious hope. He should repent and return to the Lord
whom he should deny, and, when that day should come, Jesus bade
him show that truest and most acceptable proof of penitence — the
strengthening of others. And if his fall gave only too terrible a sig
nificance to his Saviour's warnings, yet his repentance nobly fulfilled
those consolatory prophecies ; and it is most interesting to find that
the very word which Jesus had used to him recurs in his Epistle in
a connection which shows how deeply it had sunk into his soul.3
But Jesus wished His Apostles to feel that the time was come
when all was to be very different from the old spring-tide of their

1 Luke xxii. 32, ixXeiitig.
2 Luke xxii. 31, i£%rijdaro -ipai. Cf. Amos ix. 9.
3 Luke xxii. 32, iTtidrpeipai drijpidov rovi dSsXcpovi.™* Cf. 1 Pet. v. 10.

568 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
happy mission days in Galilee. Then He had sent them forth with
out purse or scrip or sandals, and yet they had lacked nothing. But
the purse and the scrip were needful now — even the sword might
become a fatal necessity — and therefore "he that hath no sword let
him sell his garment and buy one." ' The very tone of the expres
sion showed that it was not to be taken in strict literalness. It was
our Lord's custom — because His words, which were spoken for all
time, were intended to be fixed as goads and as nails in a sure place
— to clothe His moral teachings in the form of vivid metaphor and
searching paradox. It was His object now to warn them of a changed
condition, in which they must expect hatred, neglect, opposition, and
in which even self-defence might become a paramount duty ; but, as
though to warn them clearly that He did not mean any immediate
effort — as though beforehand to discourage any blow struck in
defence of that life which He willingly resigned — He added that
the end was near, and that in accordance with olden prophecy He
should be numbered with the transgressors." But as usual the Apos
tles carelessly and ignorantly mistook His words, seeing in them no
spiritual lesson, but only the barest and baldest literal meaning..
" Lord, behold here are two swords," was their almost childish com
ment on His words. Two swords ! — as though that were enough to
defend from physical violence His sacred life ! as though that were
an adequate provision for Him who, at a word, might have com
manded more than twelve legions of angels ! as though such feeble
might, wielded by such feeble hands, could save Him from the banded
hate of a nation of His enemies ! " It is enough," He sadly said.
It was not needful to pursue the subject; the subsequent lesson in
Gethsemane would unteach them their weak misapprehensions of His
words. He dropped the subject, and waiving aside their proffered
swords, proceeded to that tenderer task of consolation, about which
He had so many things to say.
He bade them not be troubled; they believed, and their faith
should find its fruition. He was but leaving them to prepare for
them a home in the many mansions of His father's house. They
knew whither He was going, and they knew the way.
" Lord, we know not whither thou goest, and how can we know
the way ? " is the perplexed answer of the melancholy Thomas.
' It is hardly worth observing that to render pdxaipai " knives " in this pas
sage is absurd.
2 Luke xxii. 37. (Mark. xv. 28 is spurious. It is not found in tf, A, B, C, D.)
See Excursus XI., " Old Testament Quotations."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 559
" I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life," answered Jesus ; " no
man cometh unto the Father but by me. H ye had known me, ye
should have known my Father also ; and from henceforth ye know
Him, and have seen Him."
Again came one of those nai've interruptions — so faithfully and
vividly recorded by the Evangelist — which yet reveal such a depth
of incapacity to understand, so profound a spiritual ignorance after
so long a course of divine training.1 And we may well be thankful
that the simplicity and ignorance of these Apostles is thus frankly
and humbly recorded ; for nothing can more powerfully tend to prove
the utter change which must have passed over their spirits, before
men so timid, so carnal, so Judaic, so unenlightened, could be trans
formed into the Apostles whose worth we know, and who — inspired
by the facts Which they had seen, and by the Holy Spirit who gave
them wisdom and utterance — became, before their short lives were
ended by violence, the mightiest teachers of the world.
" Lord, show us the Father," said Philip of Bethsaida, " and it
sufficeth us ! "
Show us the Father ! what then did Philip expect ? Some earth-
shaking epiphany ? Some blinding splendor in the heavens ? Had
he not yet learnt that He who is invisible cannot be seen by mortal
eyes ; that the finite cannot attain to the vision of the Infinite ; that
they who would see God must see no manner of similitudes ; that
His awful silence can only be broken to us through the medium of
human voices, His being only comprehended by means of the things
that He hath made ? And had he wholly failed to discover that for
these three years he had been walking with God ? that neither he,
nor any other mortal man, could ever know more of God in this
world that that which should be revealed of Him by " the only-
begotten Son which is in the bosom of the Father ? "
Again there was no touch of anger, only a slight accent of pained I
surprise in the quiet answer, "Have I been so long with you, and
yet hast thou not known me, Philip ? He that hath seen me hath
seen the Father, and how sayest thou then, Show us the Father ? "
And then appealing to His words' and to His works as only possi
ble by the indwelling of His Father, He proceeded to unfold to them
1 It is almost needless to remark how utterly inconsistent are some of the mod
ern theories about the " tendency " origin of St. John's Gospel with the extraordi
nary vividness and insight into character displayed by this narrative. If this
discourse, and the incidents which accompanied it, were otherwise than real, the
obscure Gnostic who is supposed to have invented it must have been one of the
greatest and most spiritually-minded men of genius whom the world has ever seen !
72

570 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the coming of the Holy Ghost, and how that Comforter dwelling in
them should make them one with the Father and with Him.
But at this point Judas Lebbaeus had a difficulty.1 He had not
understood that the eye can only see that which it possesses the inherent
power of seeing. He could not grasp the fact that God can become
visible to those alone the eyes of whose understanding are open so
that they can discern spiritual things. "Lord, how is it," he asked,
"that thou wilt manifest thyself . unto us, and not to the world?"
The difficulty was exactly of the same kind as Philip's had been —
the total inability to distinguish between a physical and a spiritual
manifestation ; and without formally removing it, Jesus gave them
all, once more, the true clue to the comprehension of His words —
that God lives with them that love Him, and that the proof of love
is obedience. For all further teaching He referred them to the
Comforter whom He was about to send, who should bring all things
to their remembrance. And now He breathes upon them His
blessing of peace, meaning to add but fittle more, because His con
flict with the prince of this world should now begin.
At this point of the discourse there was a movement among the
fittle company. " Arise," said Jesus, " let us go hence."
They rose from the table, and united their voices in a hymn which
may well have been a portion of the great Hallel, and not improb
ably the 116th, 117th, and 118th Psalms. What an imperishable
interest do these Psalms derive from such an association, and how
full of meaning must many of the verses have been to some of them !
With what intensity of feeling must they have joined in singing
such words as these — "The sorrows of death compassed me, the
pains of hell gat hold upon me ; I found trouble and sorrow. Then
called I upon the name of the Lord ; O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver
my soul ; " or again, "What shall I render unto the Lord for all His
benefits toward me ? I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon
the name of the Lord ; " or once again, " Thou hast thrust sore at
me that I might fall : but the Lord helped me. The Lord is my
strength and my song, and is become my salvation. The stone which
the builders refused is become the head-stone in the corner. This is
the Lord's doing ; it is marvellous in our eyes."
Before they started for their moonlight walk to the Garden of
Gethsemane, perhaps while yet they stood around their Lord when
the Hallel was over, He once more spoke to them. First He told
them of the need of closest union with Him, if they would bring

John xiv. 22. The v. 1. >Idxaoj3oi is curious.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 571
forth fruit, and be saved from destruction. He clothed this lesson
in the allegory of " the Yine and the Branches." There is no need
to find any immediate circumstance which suggested the metaphor,
beyond the " fruit of the vine " of which they had been partaking ;
but if any were required, we might 'suppose that, as He looked out
into the night, He saw the moonlight silvering the leaves of a vine
which clustered round the latticed window, or falling on the colossal
golden vine which wreathed one of the Temple gates. But after
impressing this truth in the vivid form of parable, He showed them
how deep a source of joy it would be to them in the persecutions
which awaited them from an angry world; and then in fuller,
plainer, deeper language than He had ever used before, He told
them, that, in spite of all the anguish with which they contemplated
the coming separation from Him, it was actually better for them that
His personal presence should be withdrawn in order that His spir
itual presence might be yet nearer to them than it ever had been
before. This would be effected by the coming of the Holy Ghost,
when He who was now with them should be ever in them. The
mission of that Comforter should be to convince ' the world of sin,
of righteousness, and of judgment ; and He should guide them into
all truth, and show them things to come. " He shall glorify me ;
for He shall receive of mine, and show it unto you." And now He
was going to His Father ; a little while, and they should not see Him ;
and again a fittle while, and they should see Him.
The uncertainty as to what He meant carried the disciples once
more to questions among themselves during one of the solemn
pauses of His discourse. They would gladly have asked Him,
but a deep awe. was upon their spirits, and they did not dare.
Already they had several times broken the current of His thoughts
by questions which, though He did not reprove them, had evidently
grieved Him by their emptiness, and by the misapprehension which
they showed of all that He sought to impress upon them. So their
whispered questioning died away into silence, but their Master kindly
came to their relief. This, He told- them, was to be their brief hour
of anguish, but it was to be' followed by a joy of which man could
not rob them ; and to that joy there heed be no limit, for whatever
might be their need they had but to ask the Father, and it should be
fulfilled." To that Father who Himself loved them, for their belief
1 John xvi. 8, iXeyiei. Cf. John viii. 9, 46 ; Jude 15, &c.
2 It is one of several minute coincidences (unavoidably obliterated in the English
version) which show how uniformly our Lord claimed His divine origin, that
whereas He used the word air go, " peto," of all other prayers to God — being the

572 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
in Him — to that Father, from whom He came, He was now about
to return.
The disciples were deeply grateful for these plain and most consol
ing words. Once more they were unanimous in expressing their
belief that He came forth from God. But Jesus sadly checked their
enthusiasm. His words had been meant to give them peace in the
present, and courage and hope for the future ; yet He knew and
told them that, in spite of all that they said, the hour was now close
at hand when they should all be scattered in selfish terror, and leave
Him alone — yet not alone, because the Father was with Him.
And after these words He lifted up His eyes to heaven, and
uttered His great High-Priestly prayer ; first, that His Father would
invest His voluntary humanity with the eternal glory of which He
had emptied Himself when He took the form of a servant ; next,
that He would keep through His own name these His loved ones
who had walked with Him in the world ; ' and then that He would
sanctify and make perfect not these alone, but all the myriads, all
the long generations, which should hereafter believe through their
word. And when the tones of this divine prayer were hushed, they left
the guest chamber and stepped into the moonlit silence of the Orien
tal night.

word used of petitions to one who is superior — -the word He uses to describe His
own prayers is ipcorao, " Togo," which is (strictly speaking) the request of an equal
from an equal. " 'Epao rdv notat familiarem petendi modum qualis inter collo-
quentes solet esse. Saepius de precibus Jesu occurrit (xvi. 26 ; xvii. 9, 15, 20)
semel tantum de precibus fidelium " 354 (Lampe). Again, when He bids His disci
ples believe on Him (John xiv. 1), the phrase used is itidrsvao £^5,355 which never
occurs elsewhere except of God, whereas the ordinary belief and trust in man is
expressed by itidrsvao, with the dative (John i. 12 ; ii. 23 ; Matt, xviii. 6). Again,
when He speaks of God as His Father the phrase always is 6 itarijp, or 6 itarijppov;
but when He speaks of God as our Father, the word has no article. This is most
strikingly seen in John xx. 17, dvaj3aivao itpdi rov itaripa pov xai itaripa
vpaov ;356 where, as St. Augustine truly remarks, "Non ait Patrem nostrum; aliter
ergo meum, aliter vestrum ; natural meum, gratia vestrum " 351 (Tract, cxxi.). " Nos
per ilium," says Bengel, "ille singularissime et.primo."358
1 The E. V. misses the difference of tense and meaning in John xvii. 12, irrjpovv,
aonservabam ; icpvXa^a, custodivi?m

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 573

CHAPTER LYII.
GETHSEMANE  THE AGONY AND THE ARREST.
" Non mortem horruit simpliciter . . . peccata vero nostra, quorum onus
illi erat impositum, sua- ingente mole eum premebant." 860 — Calvin (ad Matt.
xxvi. 37).
Their way led them through one of the city gates — probably
that which then corresponded to the present gate of St. Stephen —
down the steep sides of the ravine, across the wady of the Kidron,1
which lay a hundred feet below, and up the green and quiet slope
beyond it. To one who has visited the scene at that very season of
the year and at that very hour of the night — who, has felt the solemn
hush of the silence even at this short distance from the city wall —
who has seen the deep shadows flung by the great boles of the ancient
olive-trees, and the checkering of light that falls on the sward through
their moonlight-silvered leaves, it is more easy to realize the awe
which crept over those few Galilseans, as in almost unbroken silence,
with something perhaps of secresy, and with a weight of mysterious
dread brooding over their spirits, they followed Him, who with bowed
head and sorrowing heart walked before them to His willing doom."
1 The reading of St. John, itipotv rov xEl/*dppov raov xsSpaov (xviii. 1 ; {<>
D, rov xiSpov), is probably no more than a curious instance of the Grecising of
a Hebrew name, just as the brook Kishon-is in 1 Kings xviii. 40 called xeiuappoi
xiddaov (of the Ivies) : cf. LXX., 2 Sam. xv. 23 ; Jos. Antt. ix. 7, § 3. We do not
hear of any cedars there, but even if raov KdSpaov be the true reading, the word
may have been surfrappe by the Evangelist himself; rov xsSpaov is, however,
the most probable reading. The Kidron is a ravine rather than a brook. No
water runs in it except occasionally, after unusually heavy rains. Nor can we see
any special significance — any " pathetic fallacy " — in the name Kidron, as
though it meant (Stier vii. 220) " the dark brook in the deep valley," with allusion
to David's humiliation (1 Kings xv. 13), and idolatrous abominations (2 Kings
xxiii. 4, &c), and the fact that it was a kind of sewer for the Temple refuse.
" There," says Stier, " surrounded by such memorials and typical allusions, the
Lord descends into the dust of humiliation and anguish, as His glorification had
taken place upon the top of the mountain." This attempt to see more in the
words of the Gospel than they can fairly be supposed to convey would soon lead
to all the elaborate mysticism and trifling of Rabbinic exegesis.
2 Luke xxii. 39.

574 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
We are told but of one incident in that last and memorable walk
through the midnight to the familiar Garden of Gethsemane.1 It
was a last warning to the disciples in general, to St. Peter in partic
ular. It may be that the dimness, the silence, the desertion of their
position, the dull echo of their footsteps, the stealthy aspect which
their movements wore, the agonizing sense that treachery was even
now at work, was beginning already to produce an icy chill of'
cowardice in their hearts ; sadly did Jesus turn and say to them that on
that very night they should all be offended in Him — all find their
connection with Him a stumbling-block in their path — and the old
prophecy should be fulfilled, " I will smite the shepherd, and the
sheep shall be scattered abroad." And yet, in spite of all, as a shep
herd would He go before them, leading the way to Galilee ? " They
all repudiated the possibility of such an abandonment of their Lord,
and Peter, touched already by this apparent distrust of His stability,
haunted perhaps by some dread lest Jesus felt any doubt of him, was
loudest and most emphatic in his denial. Even if all should be
offended, yet never would he be offended. Was it a secret misgiving
in his own heart which made his asseveration so prominent and so
strong? Not even the repetition of the former warning, that, ere
the cock should crow, he would thrice have denied his Lord, could
shake him from his positive assertion that even the necessity of death
itself should never drive him to such a sin. And Jesus only listened
in mournful silence to vows which should so soon be scattered into
air. So they came to Gethsemane, which is about half a mile from the
city walls. It was a garden or orchard " marked probably by some
slight enclosure ; and as it had been a place of frequent resort for
Jesus and His followers, we may assume that it belonged to some
friendly owner. The name Gethsemane means " the oil-press," and
doubtless it was so called from a press to crush the olives yielded by
the countless trees from which the hill derives its designation. Any
one who has rested at noonday in the gardens of En-gannim or
Nazareth in spring, and can recall the pleasant shade yielded by the
interlaced branches of olive and pomegranate, and fig and myrtle,
may easily imagine what kind of spot it was. The traditional site,
venerable and beautiful as it is from the age and size of the grey
gnarled olive-trees, of which one is still known as the Tree of the
' Matt. xxvi. 31—35 ; Mark xiv. 27—31.
2 Zech. xiii. 7 ; Matt. xxvi. 32, itpodf-Go^vpai.
a xrjitoi (John xviii. 1); xwpi°v (Matt. xxvi. 36).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 575
Agony, is perhaps too public — being, as it always must have been,
at the angle formed by the two paths which lead over the summit
and shoulder of Olivet — to be regarded as the actual spot. It was
more probably one of the secluded holloAvs at no great distance from
it which witnessed that scene of awful and pathetic mystery.' But
although the exact spot cannot be determined with certainty, the
general position of Gethsemane is clear, and then as now the checker
ing moonlight, the grey leaves, the dark brown trunks, the soft
greensward, the ravine with Olivet towering over it to the eastward
and Jerusalem to the west, must have been the main external features
of a place which must be regarded with undying interest while Time
shall be, as the place where the Saviour of mankind entered alone
into the Yalley of the Shadow.
Jesus knew that the awful hour of His deepest humiliation had
arrived — that from this moment till the utterance of that great cry
with which He expired, nothing remained for Him on earth but the
torture of physical pain and the poignancy of mental anguish. All
that the human frame can tolerate of suffering was to be heaped upon
His shrinking body ; every misery that cruel and crushing insult can
inflict was to weigh heavy on His soul ; and in this torment of body
and agony of soul even the high and radiant serenity of His divine
spirit was to suffer a short but terrible eclipse. Pain in its acutest
sting, shame in its most overwhelming brutality, all the burden of
the sin and mystery of man's existence in its apostasy and fall — this
was what He must now face in all its most inexplicable accumulation.
But one thing remained before the actual struggle, the veritable
agony, began. He had to brace His body, to nerve His soul, to calm
His spirit by prayer and solitude to meet that hour in which all that
is evil in the Power of Evil should wreak its worst upon the Inno
cent and Holy. And He must face that hour alone : no human eye
must witness, except through the twilight and shadow, the depth of
His suffering. Yet He would have gladly shared their sympathy ;
it helped Him in this hour of darkness to feel that they were near,
1 I had the deep and memorable happiness of being able to see Gethsemane with
two friends, unaccompanied by any guide, late at night and under the full glow
of the Paschal moon, on the night of April 14th, 1870. It is usually argued that
the eight old time-hallowed olive-trees cannot reach back to the time of Christ,
because Titus cut down the trees all round the city. This argument is not decisive; ¦
but still it is more probable that these trees are only the successors and descend
ants of those which have always given its name to the sacred hill. It is quite
certain that Gethsemane must have been near this spot, and the tradition which
fixes the site is very old.

576 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
and that those were nearest who loved Him best. " Stay here," He
said to the majority, " while I go there and pray." Leaving them
to sleep on the damp grass, each wrapped in his outer garment, He
took with Him Peter and James and John, and went about a stone's
throw farther. It was well that Peter should face all that was
involved in allegiance to Christ : it was well that James and John
should know what was that cup which they had desired pre-eminently
to drink. But soon even the society of these chosen and trusted
ones was more than He could bear. A grief beyond utterance, a
struggle beyond endurance, a horror of great darkness, a giddiness
and stupefaction of soul overmastered Him, as with the sinking
swoon of an anticipated death.1 It was a tumult of emotion which
none must see. " My soul," He said, " is full of anguish, even unto
death. Stay here and keep watch." Reluctantly He tore Himself
away from their sustaining tenderness and devotion," and retired yet
farther, perhaps out of the moonlight into the shadow. And there,
until slumber overpowered them, they were conscious of how dread
ful was that paroxysm of prayer and suffering through which He
passed. They saw Him sometimes on His knees, sometimes out
stretched in prostrate supplication upon the damp ground ; " they
heard snatches of the sounds of murmured anguish in which His
humanity pleaded with the divine will of His Father. The actual
words might vary, but the substance was the same throughout.
" Abba, Father, all tilings are possible unto Thee ! take away this
cup from me ; nevertheless, not what I will, but what Thou
wilt." '
And that prayer in all its infinite reverence and awe was heard ; '
that strong crying and those tears were not rejected. We may not
intrude too closely into this scene. It is shrouded in a halo and a mys
tery into which no footstep may penetrate. We, as we contemplate
'Matt. xxvi. 37, f/p^aro XvxeidBai xai dS?/pov£iv ; 361 Mark xiv. 33,
ix8apfiEidBai.m Cf. Job xviii. 20 (Aqu., dSr/povrjdovdiv) ; Ps. cxvi. 11. See
Pearson, On the Creed, Art. iv. n. The derivation may be from d Sr/piao, " I am
carried away from myself;" or, perhaps more probably, from dSijdai, "to
loathe." It is remarkable that this verse (Matt. xxvi. 38)^ and John xii. 27, are
the only passages where Jesus used the word ipvxi) 36s of Himself.
2 Luke xxii. 41, ditEditddBrj ait' avraov.SM Cf. Acts xxi. 1.
"Luke xxii. 41, Beii rd yovara.Ui Matt. xxvi. 39, Eitsdev iiti itpodaoitov
avrov.36' 4 Nothing, as Dean Alford remarks, could prove more decisively the insignifi
cance of the letter in comparispn with the spirit, than the fact that the three
Evangelists vary in the actual expression of the prayer.
E Heb. v. 7, EldaxovdBsii dito rrji EvXafieiai.'6''

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 577
it, are like those disciples — our senses are confused, our perceptions
are not clear. We can but enter into their amazement and sore
distress. Half waking, half oppressed with an irresistible weight of
troubled slumber, they only felt that they were dim witnesses of an
unutterable agony, far deeper than anything which they could fathom,
as it far transcended all that, even in our purest moments, we can
pretend to understand. The place seems haunted by presences of
good and evil, struggling in mighty but silent contest for the eternal
victory. They see Him, before whom the demons had fled in howl
ing terror, lying on His face upon the ground. They hear that voice
wailing in murmurs of broken agony, which had commanded the
wind and the sea, and they obeyed Him. The great drops of anguish
which drop from Him in the deathful struggle, look to them like
heavy gouts of blood. Under the dark shadows of the trees, amid
the interrupted moonlight, it seems to them that there is an angel
with Him, who supports His failing strength, who enables Him to
rise victorious from those first prayers with nothing but the crimson
traces of that bitter struggle upon His brow.1
And whence came all this agonized failing of heart, this fearful
amazement, this horror of great darkness, this passion which almost
brought Him down to the grave before a single pang had been in
flicted upon Him — which forced from Him the rare and intense
phenomenon of a blood-stained sweat — which almost prostrated
body, and soul, and spirit with one final blow ?• Was it the mere
dread of death — the mere effort and determination to face that which
He foreknew in all its dreadfulness, but from which, nevertheless,
His soul recoiled ? There have been those who have dared — I can
scarcely write it without shame and sorrow — to speak very slight
ingly about Gethsemane ; to regard that awful scene, from the sum
mit of their ignorant presumption, with an almost contemptuous dis
like — to speak as though Jesus had there shown a cowardly sensi-

1 The verses (Luke xxii. 43, 44) are omitted in some of the best MSS. (e. g., even
A, B, and the first corrector of X), and were so at a very early age. Professor
Westcott thinks that the varying evidence for their authenticity points to a recen
sion of the Gospel by the Evangelist himself (Introd. p. 306). Olshausen and
Lange here understand the angel of " the accession of spiritual power " — " the
angel of the hearing of prayer" ; verse 43, aocpBij Si a v r ap). It seems certain that
an aiparaoSrji iSpodizis under abnormal pathological circumstances is not
unknown ; and even if it were, all that the Evangelist says is iysvsro 6 iSpaoi
avrov rndei Bpop/Soi a'iparoi, x. r. A.369 See Dr. Stroud, On the Physical
Cause of the Death of Christ, p. 183 ; Bynaeus, De Morte Ghristi, ii. 33. ,
73

578 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
bility. Thus, at the very moment when we should most wonder and
admire, they " Not. even from the Holy One of Heaven
Refrain their tongues blasphemous." '
And yet, if no other motive influence them — if they merely regard
Him as a Prophet preparing for a cruel death — if no sense of
decency, no power of sympathy, restrain them from thus insulting
even a Martyr's agony at the moment when its pang was most intense
— does not common fairness, does' not the most ordinary historic criti
cism, show them how cold and false, if nothing worse, must be the
miserable insensibility which prevents them from seeing that it could
have been no mere dread of pain, no mere shrinking from death, which
thus agitated to its inmost centre the pure and innocent soul of the
Son of Man ? " Could not even a child see how inconsistent would
be such an hypothesis with that heroic fortitude which fifteen hours of
subsequent sleepless agony could not disturb — with the majestic silence
before priest, and procurator, and king — with the endurance from
which the extreme of torture could not wring one cry — with the calm
and infinite ascendancy which overawed the hardened and worldly
Roman into involuntary respect — with the undisturbed supremacy of
soul which opened the gates of Paradise to the repentant malefactor,
and breathed compassionate forgiveness on the apostate priests ? The
Son of Man humiliated into prostration by the mere abject fear of
death, which trembling old men, and feeble maidens, and timid boys
— a Polyearp, a Blandina, an Attalus — have yet braved without a
sigh or a shudder, solely through faith in His name ! Strange that '
He should be thus insulted by impious tongues, who brought to fight
that life and immortality from whence came the
" Ruendi
In ferrum mens prona viris, animaeque capaces
Mortis, et ignavum rediturae parcere vitae ! " * 371
The meanest of idiots, the coarsest of criminals, have advanced to the
scaffold without a tremor or a sob, and many a brainless and brutal
murderer has mounted the ladder with a firm step, and looked round
1 Ps. xl. 13.
2 So Celsus (ap. Orig. ii. 24), and Julian (Theod. Mops.; Munter, Fragm. Patr. i.
121). Vanini, when taken to the scaffold, boasted his superiority to Jesus, " Illi
in extremis, prae timore imbellis sudor ; ego imperturbatus morior " 3™ (Grammond,
Hist. Gall. iii. 211). The Jews made the same taunt (R. Isaak b. Abraham, Chissuh
Emunah, in Wagenseil). The passages are all quoted by Hofmann, p. 439.
* Luc. Phars. i. 455.

i \ i

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 579
upon a yelling mob with an unflinching countenance. To adopt the
commonplace of orators, " There is no passion in the mind of man so
weak but it mates and masters the fear of death. Revenge triumphs
over death ; love slights it ; honor aspireth to it ; grief flieth to it ;
fear preoccupateth it. A man would die, though he were neither
valiant nor miserable, only upon a weariness to do the same thing so
oft over and over. It is no less worthy to observe how little altera
tion in good spirits the approaches of death make : for they appear
to be the same men till the last instant." It is as natural to die as to
be born. The Christian hardly needs to be told that it was no such
vulgar fear which forced from his Saviour that sweat of blood. No,
it was something infinitely more than this : infinitely more than the
highest stretch of our imagination can realize. It was something far
deadlier than death. It was the burden and the mystery of the
world's sin which lay heavy on His heart ; it was the tasting, in the
divine humanity of a sinless life, the bitter cup which sin had poi
soned ; it was the bowing of Godhead to endure a stroke to which
man's apostasy had lent such frightful possibilities. It was the sense,
too, of how virulent, how frightful, must have been the force of evil
in the Universe of God which could render necessary so infinite a
sacrifice. It was the endurance, by the perfectly guiltless, of the
worst malice which human hatred could devise ; it was to experience in
the bosom of perfect innocence and perfect love, all that was detestable
in human ingratitude, all that was pestilent in human hypocrisy,
all that was cruel in human rage. It was to brave the last triumph
of Satanic spite and fury, uniting against His lonely head all the
flaming arrows of Jewish falsity and heathen corruption — the con
centrated wrath of the rich and respectable, the yelling fury of the
blind and brutal mob. It was to feel that His own, to whom He
came, loved darkness rather than light — that the race of the chosen
people could be wholly absorbed in one insane repulsion against
infinite goodness and purity and love.
Through all this He-passed in that hour which, with a recoil of
sinless horror beyond our capacity to conceive, foretasted a worse
bitterness than the worst bitterness of death. And after a time —
victorious indeed, but weary almost to fainting, like His ancestor
Jacob, with the struggle of those supplications — -He came to seek
one touch of human support and human sympathy from the chosen
of the chosen — His three Apostles. Alas! He found them sleep
ing. It was an hour of fear and peril ; yet no certainty of danger,
no love for Jesus, no feeling for His unspeakable dejection, had suf
ficed to hold their eyes waking. Their grief, their weariness, their

580 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
intense excitement, had sought relief in heavy slumber. Even Peter,
after all his impetuous promises, lay in deep sleep, for his eyes were
heavy. " Simon, sleepest thou ? " was all He said. As the sad
reproachful sentence fell on their ears, and startled them from their
slumbers, " Were ye so unable," He asked, " to watch with me a sin
gle hour? Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation."
And then, not to palliate their failure, but rather to point out the
peril of it, "The spirit," He added, "is willing, but the flesh is
weak." Once more He left them, and again, with deeper intensity, repeated
the same prayer as before, and in a pause of His emotion came back
to His disciples. But they had once more fallen asleep ; nor, when
He awoke them, could they, in their heaviness and confusion, find
anything to say to Him. Well might He have said, in the words of
David, " Thy rebuke hath broken my heart ; I am full of heaviness ;
I looked for some to have pity on me, but there was no man, neither
found I any to comfort me " l
For the third and last time — but now with a deeper calm, and a
brighter serenity of that triumphant confidence which had breathed
through the High-Priestly prayer — • He withdrew to find His only
consolation in communing with God. And there He found all that
He needed. Before that hour was over He was prepared for the
worst that Satan or man could do. He knew all that would befall
Him ; perhaps He had already caught sight of the irregular glimmer
ing of lights as His pursuers descended from the Temple precincts.
Yet there was no trace of agitation in His quiet words when, coming
a third time and finding them once more sleeping, " Sleep on now,"
He said, " and take your rest. It is enough. The hour is come.
Lo ! the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners."
For all the aid that you can render, for all the comfort your sym
pathy can bestow, sleep on. But all is altered now. It is not I
who wish to break these your heavy slumbers. They will be very
rudely and sternly broken by others. " Rise, then ; let us be going.
Lo ! he that betrayeth me is at hand." "
Yes, it was more than time to rise, for while saints had slumbered
sinners had plotted and toiled in exaggerated preparation. While
they slept in their heavy anguish, the traitor had been very wakeful
1 Ps. lxix. 20.
2 It has been asked why St. John tells us nothing of the agony ? We do not
know ; but it may very likely have been because the story had already been told
as fully as it was known. Certainly, his silence did not spring from any notion
that the agony was unworthy of Christ's grandeur (see xii. 27 ; xviii. 11).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 581
in his active malignity. More than two hours had passed since from
the lighted chamber of their happy communion he had plunged into
the night, and those hours had been very fully occupied. He had
gone to the High Priests and Pharisees, agitating them and hurry
ing them on with his own passionate precipitancy ; and partly per
haps out of genuine terror of Him with whom he had to deal, partly
to enhance his own importance, had got the leading Jews to furnish
him with a motley band composed of" their own servants, of the
Temple watch with their officers, and even with a part at least of the
Roman garrison from the Tower of Antonia, under the command of
their tribune.1 They were going against One who was deserted and
defenceless, yet the soldiers were armed with swords, and even the
promiscuous throng had provided themselves with sticks. They were
going to seize One who would make no attempt at flight or conceal
ment, and the full moon shed its lustre on their unhallowed expedi
tion ; yet, lest He should escape them in some limestone grotto, or in
the deep shade of the olives, they carried lanterns and torches in
their hands. It is evident that they made their movements as noise
less and stealthy as possible ; but at night a deep stillness .hangs over
an Oriental city, and so large a throng could not move unnoticed.
Already, as Jesus was awaking His sleepy disciples, His ears had
caught in the distance the clank of swords, the tread of hurrying
footsteps, the ill-suppressed tumult of an advancing crowd. He knew
all that awaited Him ; He knew that the quiet garden which He had
loved, and where He had so often held happy intercourse with His
disciples, was familiar to the traitor. Those unwonted and hostile
sounds, that red glare of lamps and torches athwart the moonlit inter
spaces of the olive-yards, were enough to show that Judas had be
trayed the secret of His retirement, and was even now at hand.
And even as Jesus spoke the traitor himself appeared." Overdo-
' rj ovv ditEipa xai 6 ^zAz'a/j^oS 37.2 (John xviii. 12; cf. 3); but clearly St.
John does not mean that all tile 600 soldiers of the garrison accompanied Judas.
Of course the consent of Pilate must have been obtained with the express object
of prejudicing him against Jesus as a dangerous person. The drparr/yoi rov
ispovzn of Luke xxii. 52 are Levitical officers. Critics have tried, as in so many
instances, to show that there is an error here because there was only one " captain
of the Temple " (or ish ar ha-bait) whose office seems to date from the Captivity
[Neh. ii. 8 ; vii. 2 (sar ha-birah) ; cf. 2 Mace. iii. 4]. But in 3 Esdr. i. 8, we find
oi iitidrdrai rov iepov, three in number ; and as the captain had guards
under him, to make the rounds (Jos. B. J. vi. 5, § 3, oi rov ispov cpvXaxeS
fiyyEiXav rap dr parity gq), 3H the name might be applied generally to the whole
body. 2 Throughout the description of these scenes I have simply taken the four Gos
pel narratives as one whole, and regarded them as supplementing each other. It

582 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
ing his part — acting in the too-hurried impetuosity of a crime so
hideous that he dared not pause to think — ¦ he pressed forward into
the enclosure, and was in front of all the rest.1 " Comrade," said
Jesus to him as he hurried forward, " the crime for which thou art
come  " " The sentence seems to have been cut short by the
deep agitation of His spirit, nor did Judas return any answer, intent
only on giving to his confederates his shameful preconcerted signal. .
" He whom I kiss," he had said to them, " the same is He. Seize
Him at once, and lead Him away safely." 3 And so, advancing to
Jesus with his usual cold title of address, he exclaimed, " Rabbi,
Rabbi, hail ! " and profaned the sacred cheek of his Master with a
kiss of overacted salutation.4 " Judas," said Jesus to him, with stern
will be seen how easily, and without a single violent hypothesis, they fall into
one harmonious, probable, and simple narrative. Lange here adopts what seems
to me to be the best order of sequence. The fact that Judas gave the signal too
early for his own purpose seems to follow from John xviii. 4 — 9 (i^ijXBev).
Alford thinks it " inconceivable " that Judas had given his traitor-kiss before this
scene ; but his own arrangement will surely strike every careful reader as much
more inconceivable.
1 Luke xxii. 47.
1 2Matt. xxvi. 50, icp' o itdpsi — perhaps this is an exclamation for " What a
crime 1 " I have taken it in the sense of an aposiopesis, " What thou art here for
(do)." But perhaps icp' 8; may = iiti ri; in Hellenistic Greek (Winer. III.
xxiv. 4). It is not, however, likely that Jesus would have asked a question on the
purpose of Judas's coming. Observe 'Eraips (Matt. xxvi. 50), " Comrade," not
" friend" (cpiXs), as most versions wrongly translate it. Never, even in the ordi
nary conventionalities of life, would Christ use a term which was not strictly
true. There is even something stern in the use of iratpE (cf. Matt xx. 13 ; xxii.
12). Judas, in the strictest sense of the word, had been an iraipoi ; but as Am-
monius says, 6 iraipoi ov itdvraoi <piXoi.zn Hence the lines of Houdenius
(De Pass.) — " Si honoras, 0 dulcis Domine,
Inimicum amici nomine.
Quales erunt amoris carmine
Qui te canunt et modulamine ? " sis
although exquisitely beautiful, are not strictly accurate.
3 Mark xiv. 44, xparijdars . . . xai ditaydysrs ddcpaXaoi — one of the
many slight undesigned traces of Judas's involuntary terror and misgiving. His
words probably were Schaldm aleka rabbi, " Peace be to thee, Rabbi ! " but there
came no aleka Shalom in reply : there was no peace for the errand on which Judas
had come. Mr. Monro observes how characteristic are these snatches of dialogue
like rd si Svvadai 3" in Mark ix. 23 (v. p. 387), and the rrjv dpxvv on xai
XaXao vpiv 31S (John viii. 25 ; v. p. 416), and idrs 'icoi rovrov 379 (Luke xxii. 51 ;
v. infr., p. 583). Surely the most inventive of inventors neither could nor would
invent phrases like these !
4 The xarscpiXr/dev of Matt. xxvi. 49 ; Mark xiv. 45, as compared with the
anXr/dao before, is clearly meant to imply a fervent kiss. Something of the same
kind seems to be intended by the " Rabbi 1 Rabbi!" of Mark xiv. 45. Kvpiem

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 583
and sad reproach, "dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss ? "
These words were enough, for they simply revealed the man to him
self, by stating his hideous act in all its simplicity ; and the 'method
of his treachery was so unparalleled in its heinousness, so needless
and spontaneously wicked, that more words would have been super
fluous. With feelings that the very devils might have pitied, the
wretch slunk back to the door of the enclosure, towards which the
rest of the crowd were now beginning to press.
" Lord, shall we smite with the sword ? " was the eager question of
St. Peter, and the only other disciple provided with a weapon ; for,
being within the garden, the Apostles were still unaware of the num
ber of the captors.1 Jesus did not at once answer the question ; for
no sooner had He repelled the villainous falsity of Judas than He
Himself stepped out of the enclosure to face His pursuers. Not fly
ing, not attempting to hide Himself, He stood there before them in
the full moonlight in His unarmed and lonely majesty, shaming by
His calm presence their superfluous torches and superfluous arms.
" Whom are ye seeking ? " He asked.
The question was not objectless. It was asked, as St. John points
out," to secure His Apostles from all molestation ; and we may sup
pose also that it served to make all who were present the witnesses of
His arrest, and so to prevent the possibility of any secret assassina
tion or foul play.
" Jesus of Nazareth," they answered.
Their excitement and awe preferred this indirect answer, though
if there could have been any doubt as to who the speaker was, Judas
was there — the eye of the Evangelist noticed him, trying in vain to
lurk amid the serried ranks of the crowd — to prevent any possible
mistake which might have been caused by the failure of his prema
ture and therefore disconcerted signal.
was the ordinary address of the Apostles to Christ ; but the colder and feeble^
" Rabbi " seems to have been the title always used by Judas (Bengel). Cf . supr.,
p. 562.
1 All this is obvious from the context. The place which, since the days of St.
Helena, has been pointed out as the garden of Gethsemane, may or may not be
the authentic site ; but there can be little doubt that the actual xfjitoi or x^piov
had an enclosing wall.
2 John xviii. 8. How absolutely does this narrative shatter to pieces the infa
mous calumny of the Jews, xpvitropsvoi piv xai SiaSiS pddxoov iitovsiSe-
drara edXaom (Orig. c. Cels. 2, 9, quoted by Keim, III. ii. 298). Keim, without
ignoring Celsus's use of Jewish calumnies, thinks that this attack is founded on
John x. 39, &c.

584 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
"I am He," ' said Jesus.
Those quiet words produced a sudden paroxysm of amazement and
dread. " That answer so gentle " had in it a strength greater than the
eastern wind, or the voice of thunder, for God was in that 'still
voice,' and it struck them down to the ground." Instances are not
wanting in history in which the untroubled brow, the mere glance,
the calm bearing of some defenceless man, has disarmed and paralyzed
his enemies. The savage and brutal Gauls could not lift their swords
to strike the majestic senators of Rome. " I cannot slay Marius,"
exclaimed the barbarian slave, flinging down his sword and flying
headlong from the prison into which he had been sent to murder the
aged hero." Is there, then, any ground for the scoffing scepticism
with which many have received St. John's simple but striking nar
rative, that, at the words " I am He" a movement of contagious
terror took place among the crowd, and, starting back in confusion,
some of them fell to the ground ? Nothing surely was more natural.
It must be remembered that Judas was among them ; that his soul
was undoubtedly in a state of terrible perturbation ; that Orientals
are specially liable to sudden panic ; that fear is an emotion eminently
sympathetic ; that most of them must have heard of the mighty
miracles of Jesus, and that all were at any rate aware that He claimed
to be a Prophet ; that the manner in which He met this large multi
tude, which the alarms of Judas had dictated as essential to His cap
ture, suggested the likelihood of some appeal to supernatural powers ;
that they were engaged in one of those deeds of guilty' violence and
midnight darkness which paralyze the stoutest minds. When we
1 John xviii. 5. One of those minute touches which so clearly mark the eye
witness — which are inexplicable on any other supposition, and which abound in
the narrative of the beloved disciple. To give to the " I am He " any mystic sig
nificance (Isa. xliii. 10, LXX. ; John viii. 28), as is done by Lange and others,
seems unreasonable.
2 Veil. Paterc. ii. 19. Other commentators adduce the further instances of M.
Antonius (Val. Max. viii. 9, 2), Probus, Pertinax, Teligny, stepson to Admiral
Coligny, Bishop Stanislaus, &c. No one, so far as I have seen, quotes the instance
of Avidius Cassius, who, springing to the door of his tent in night-dress, quelled
a mutinous army by his mere presence. In the Talmud, seventy of the strongest
Egyptians fall to the earth in attempting to bind Simeon, the brother of Joseph.
Jeremy Taylor beautifully says, " But there was a divinity upon Him that they
could not seize Him at first ; but as a wave climbing of a rock is beaten back and
scattered into members, till falling down it creeps with gentle waftings, and kisses
the feet of the stony mountain, and so encircles it : so the soldiers coming at first
with a rude attempt, were twice repelled by the glory of His person, till they,
falling at His feet, were at last admitted to a seizure of His body." (Life of Christ
III. xv.)

¦ k

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 5g5
bear this in mind, and when we remember too that on many occa
sions in His history the mere presence and word of Christ had
sufficed to quell the fury of the multitude, and to keep Him safe in
the midst of them,1 it hardly needs any recourse to miracle to account
for the fact that these official marauders and their infamous guide
recoiled from those simple words, " I am He," as though the light
ning had suddenly been flashed into their faces.
While they stood cowering and struggling there, He again asked
them, "Whom are ye seeking?" Again they replied, " Jesus of
Nazareth." "I told you," He answered, " that I am He. If, then,
ye are seeking me, let these go away." For He Himself had said in
His prayer, " Of those whom Thou hast given me have I lost none."
The words were a signal to the Apostles that they could no longer
render Him any service, and that they might now consult their own
safety if they would. But when they saw that He meant to offer no
resistance, that He was indeed about to surrender Himself to His
enemies, some pulse of nobleness or of shame throbbed in the impetu
ous soul of Peter ; and hopeless and useless as all resistance had now
become, he yet drew his sword, and with a feeble and ill-aimed blow
severed the ear of a man named Malchus, a servant of the High Priest.
Instantly Jesus stopped the ill-timed and dangerous struggle. " Re
turn that sword of thine into its place," He said to Peter, "for all
they that take the sword shall perish with the sword ; " and then He
reproachfully asked His rash disciple whether he really supposed
that He could not escape if He would ? whether the mere breathing
of a prayer would not secure for Him — had He not voluntarily
intended to fulfil the Scriptures by drinking the cup which His
Father had given Him — the aid, not of twelve timid Apostles, but
of more than twelve legions of angels ? " " And then, turning to the
soldiers who were holding Him, He said, "Suffer ye thus far,"3
and in one last act of miraculous mercy touched and healed the
wound.

1 Luke iv. 30 ; John vii. 30 ; viii. 59 ; x. 39 ; Mark xi. 18 (see p. 187, &c.).
2 A legion during the Empire consisted of about 6,000 men. The fact that St.
John alone mentions the names of St. Peter and Malchus may arise simply from
his having been more accurately acquainted than the other Evangelists with the
events of that heart-shaking scene ; but there is nothing absurd or improbable in
the current supposition, that the name of Peter may have been purposely kept in
the background in the earliest cycle of Christian records.
8 This may either mean, " Let me free for one moment only, while I heal this
wounded man," as Alford not improbably understands it ; or, " Excuse this single
act of resistance."
74

586 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
In the confusion of the night this whole incident seems to have
passed unnoticed except by a very few. At any rate, it made no
impression upon these hardened men. Their terror had quite
vanished, and had been replaced by insolent confidence. The
Great Prophet had voluntarily resigned Himself ; He was their
helpless captive. No thunder had rolled ; no angel flashed down
from heaven for His deliverance ; no miraculous fire devoured
amongst them. They saw before them nothing but a weary un
armed man, whom one of His own most intimate followers had
betrayed, and whose arrest was simply watched in helpless agony by
a few terrified Galilasans. They had fast hold of Him, and already
some chief priests, and elders, and leading officers of the Temple-
guard had ventured to come out of the dark background from which
they had securely seen His capture, and to throng about Him in
insulting curiosity. To these especially1 He turned, and said to
them, "Have ye come out as against a robber with swords and
staves? When I was daily with you in the Temple ye did not
stretch out your hands against me. But this is your hour, and the
power of darkness." Those fatal words quenched the last gleam of
hope in the minds of His followers. " Then His disciples, all of
them " " — even the fiery Peter, even the loving John — " forsook
Him, and fled." At that supreme moment only one unknown youth
— perhaps the owner of Gethsemane, perhaps St. Mark the Evangel
ist,3 perhaps Lazarus the brother of Martha and Mary — ventured, in
his intense excitement, to hover on the outskirts of the hostile crowd.
1 Luke xxii. 52, sihe Si . . . itpdi rovi itpodyEvopevovi itpoi
avrov dpxispEii, x. r. X.
2 Matt. xxvi. 56, oi paBtjrat itdvrsi. Many readers will thank me here foi
quoting the fine lines from Browning's Death in the Desert : —
" Eorsake the Christ thou sawest transfigured, Him
Who trod the sea and brought the dead to life 1
What should wring this from thee ? Te laugh and ask
What wrung it ? Even a torchlight and a noise,
The sudden Roman faces, violent hands,
And fear of what the Jews might do I Just that,
And it is written, ' I forsook and fled.'
There was my trial, and it ended thus."
3 Mark xiv. 51, 52 only. As to the supposition that it was Lazarus — founded
partly on the locality, partly on the probabilities of the case, partly on the fact
that the divSwv was a garment that only a person of some wealth would possess
— see a beautiful article on " Lazarus," by Professor Plumptre, in the Diet, of tlie
Bible. Ewald's supposition, that it was St. Paul (1), seems to me amazing. The
word Di"IV> yvpv di, though, like the Latin nudus, it constantly means "with
only the under robe on" (1 Sam. xix. 24 ; John xxi. 7; Hes.'Ep^., 391 ; Virg. G.
i. 299), is here probably literal.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 587
He had apparently been roused from sleep, for he had nothing to
cover him except the sinddn, or linen sheet, in which he had been
sleeping. But the Jewish emissaries, either out of the mere wanton
ness of a crowd at seeing a person in an unwonted guise, or because
they resented his too close intrusion, seized hold of the sheet which
he had wrapped about him ; whereupon he too was suddenly terrified,
and fled away naked, leaving the linen garment in their hands.
Jesus was now absolutely alone in the power of His enemies. At
the command of the tribune His hands were tied behind His back,1
and forming a close array around Him, the Roman soldiers, followed
and surrounded by the Jewish servants, led Him once more through
the night, over the Kedron, and up the steep city slope beyond it, to
the palace of the High Priest. 1 John xviii. 12.

588 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER LYIII.
JESUS BEFORE THE PRIESTS AND THE SANHEDRIN.
"12 D^IDO Wl, "Be slow in judgment." — Pirke Abhdth, i. 1.
Although sceptics have dwelt with disproportion ed persistency
upon a multitude of " discrepancies " in the fourfold narrative of
Christ's trial, condemnation, death, and resurrection, yet these are
not of a nature to cause the slightest anxiety to a Christian scholar ;
nor need they awaken the most momentary distrust in any one
who — even if he have no deeper feelings in the matter — • approaches
the Gospels with no preconceived theory, whether of infallibility or
of dishonesty, to support, and merely accepts them for that which, at
the lowest, they claim to be — histories honest and faithful up to the
full knowledge of the writers, but each, if taken alone, confessedly
fragmentary and obviously incomplete. After repeated study, I
declare, quite fearlessly, that though the slight variations are num
erous, — though the lesser particulars cannot in every instance be
rigidly and minutely accurate — though no one of the narratives
taken singly would give us an adequate impression — yet, so far from
there being, in this part of the Gospel story, any irreconcilable con
tradiction, it is perfectly possible to discover how one Evangelist sup
plements the details furnished by another, and perfectly possible to
understand the true sequence of the incidents by combining into one
whole the separate indications whith they furnish. It is easy to call
such combinations arbitrary and baseless ; but they are only arbitrary
in so far as we cannot always be absolutely certain that the succession
of facts was exactly such as we suppose ; and so far are they from
being baseless, that, to the careful reader of the Gospels, they carry
with them a conviction little short of certainty. If we treat the Gos
pels as we should treat any other authentic documents recording all
that the authors knew, or all that they felt themselves commissioned
to record, of the crowded incidents in one terrible and tumultuous
day and night, we shall, with care and study, see how all that they
tell us falls accurately into its proper position in the general narra
tive, and shows us a sixfold trial, a quadruple derision, a triple
acquittal, a twice-repeated condemnation of Christ our Lord.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 589
Reading the Gospels side by side, we soon perceive that of the
three successive trials which our Lord underwent at the hands of the
Jews, the first only — that before Annas — is related to us by St.
John ; the second — that before Caiaphas — by St. Matthew and St.
Mark ; the third — that before the Sanhedrin — by St. Luke alone.1
Nor is there anything strange in this, since the first was the practical,
the second the potential, the third the actual and formal decision,
that sentence of death should be passed judicially upon Him. Each
of the three trials might, from a different point of view, have been
regarded as the most fatal and important of the three. That of
Annas was the authoritative praejudicium, that of Caiaphas the
real determination, that of the entire Sanhedrin at daybreak the
final ratification."
When the tribune, who commanded the detachment of Roman
soldiers, had ordered Jesus to be bound, they led Him away without
an attempt at opposition. Midnight was already passed as they hurried
Him, from the moonlit shadows of green Gethsemane, through the
hushed streets of the sleeping city, to the palace 3 of the High Priest.
It seems to have been jointly occupied by the prime movers in this
black iniquity, Annas and his son-in-law, Joseph Caiaphas. They
led Him to Annas first. It is true that this Hanan, son of Seth, the
Ananus of Josephus, and the Annas of the Evangelists, had only
been the actual High Priest for seven years (A. D. 7 — 14), and that,
more than twenty years before this period, he had been deposed by the
Procurator Yalerius Gratus. He had been succeeded first by Ismael
Ben Phabi, then by his son Eleazar, then by his son-in-law, Joseph
Caiaphas. But the priestly families would not be likely to attach
more importance than they chose to a deposition which a strict
observer of the Law would have regarded as invalid and sacrilegious ;
nor would so astute a people as the Jews be likely to lack devices
1 But nevertheless, St. John distinctly alludes to the second trial (xviii. 24, where
ditidreiXev means " sent," not " had sent," as in the E. V. ; and cf. xi. 46); and
St. Matthew and St. Mark imply the third (Matt, xxvii. 1 ; Mark xv. 1). St. Luke,
though he contents himself with the narration of the third only — which was the
only legal one — yet also distinctly leaves room for the first and second (xxii. 54).
2 One might, perhaps, from a slightly different point of view, regard the ques
tioning before Annas as mere conspiracy ; that before Caiaphas as a sort of pre
liminary questioning, or dvdxpidii; and that before the Sanhedrin as the only
real and legal trial.
3 avXrj means both the entire palace (Matt. xxvi. 58) and the open court within
the itvXabv or itpoavXiov (id. 69). Probably the house was near the Temple (Neh.
xiii. 4, seqq.). That Hanan and Caiaphas occupied one house seems probable
from a comparison of John xviii. 13 with 15. John being known to Caiaphas is
admitted to witness the trial before Annas.

590 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
which would enable them to evade the Roman flat, and to treat
Annas, if they wished to do so, as their High Priest de jure, if not
de facto. Since the days of Herod the Great, the High Priesthood
had been degraded from a permanent religious office, to a temporary
secular distinction ; and, even had it been otherwise, the rude legion
aries would probably care less than nothing to whom they led their
victim. If the tribune condescended to ask a question about it, it
would be easy for the Captain of the Temple — who may very
probably have been at this time, as we know was the case subse
quently, one of the sons of Annas himself — to represent Annas as
the Sagan * or Nasi — the " Deputy," or the President of the Sanhe
drin — and so as the proper person to conduct the preliminary
investigation. i. Accordingly, it was before Hanan that Jesus stood first as a
1 The title Sagan haccohanim, " deputy " or " chief " of the priests, is said to date
from the day when the Seleucids neglected for seven years to appoint a successor
to the wicked Alcimus, and a " deputy " had to supply his place. But accident
must often have rendered a sagan necessary, and we find " the second priest "
prominently mentioned in 2 Kings xxv. 18 ; Jer. Iii. 24 (Buxtorf, Lex. Talm. s. v.
pD). Thus on one occasion, on the evening of the great Day of Atonement,
Hareth, King of Arabia, was talking to Simeon Ben Kamhith, who, being
High Priest, was rendered legally impure, and unable to officiate the next
day, because some of the king's saliva happened to fall on his vestments.
His brother then supplied his place. It is, however, doubtful whether the
title of Sagan did not originate later, and whether any but the real High Priest
could, under ordinary circumstances, be the Nasi. In fact, the name Nasi
seems to be enveloped in obscurity. Perhaps it corresponds to the mysterious
ddpapsX (= Sar am El, " Prince of the People of God "). Ewald says that Hanan
i might have been .46 Beth Din, as the second in the Sanhedrin was called ; and
it is at any rate clear, among many obscurities, that short of being High Priest,
he might have even exceeded him in influence (cf. Acts iv. 6 ; Maimon. Sanhedr.
2, 4). The High Priesthood at this time was confined to some half-dozen closely-
connected families, especially the BoBthusians, and the family of Hanan, the
Kamhiths, and the Kantheras ; yet, since the days of Herod, the High Priests were
so completely the puppets of the civil power that there were no less than twenty-
eight in 107 years (Jos. Antt. xx. 10, § 1). Both Josephus (eii raov apxiEpkaov,
B. J. ii. 20, § 4) and the Talmud (D'bviJ tJ'JPD ^3) quite bear out the language of
the Gospels in attributing the pontifical power more to a caste than to any indi
vidual. The fact seems to be that even in these bad times the office demanded
a certain amount of external dignity and self-denial which some men would only
tolerate for a time ; and their ambition was that as many members of their family
as possible should have " passed the chair." Such is the inference drawn by'
Derenbourg from Jos, Antt. xx. 9, § 1 ; and still more from the letter of the High
Priest Jonathan, son of Hanan, to Agrippa (id. xix. § 4). Martha, daughter of
Boethus, bought the priesthood for her husband, Jesus, son of Gamala, and had
carpets spread from her house to the Temple when Bhe went to see him sacrifice.
This man had silk gloves made, that he might not dirty his hands while sacrific
ing 1 (See Renan, L'Antechrist, 49 seqq.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 591
prisoner at the tribunal.1 It is probable that he and his family had
been originally summoned by Herod the Great from Alexandria, as
supple supporters of a distasteful tyranny. The Jewish historian
calls this Hanan the happiest man of his time, because he died at an
advanced old age, and because both he and five of his sons in succes
sion — not to mention his son-in-law — had enjoyed the shadow of
the High Priesthood ; " so that, in fact, for nearly half a century he
had practically wielded the sacerdotal power. But to be admired' by
such a renegade as Josephus is a questionable advantage. In spite
of his prosperity he seems to have left behind him but an evil name,
and we know enough of his character, even from the most unsus
pected sources, to recognize in him nothing better than an astute,
tyrannous, worldly Sadducee, unvenerable for all his seventy years,
full of a serpentine malice and meanness which utterly belied the
meaning of his name," and engaged at this very moment in a dark,
disorderly conspiracy, for which even a worse man would have had
cause to blush. It was before this alien and intriguing hierarch that
there began, at midnight, the first stage of that long and terrible trial.4
And there was good reason why St. John should have preserved
for us this phase of the trial) and preserved it apparently for the
express reason that it had been omitted by the other Evangelists. It
is not till after a lapse of years that people can always see clearly the
prime mover in events with which they had been contemporary. At
the time, the ostensible agent is the one usually regarded as most
responsible, though he may be in reality a mere link in the official
machinery. But if there were one man who was more guilty than
any other of the death of Jesus, that man was Hanan. His advanced
age, his preponderant dignity, his worldly position and influence, as
1 John xviii. 13, 19—24.
2 Eleazar, A. D. 16 ; Jonathan, A. D. 36 ; Theophilus, A. D. 37 ; Matthias, A. D.
42 — 43 ; Annas the younger, A. D. 63. The Talmudic quotations about Annas and
his family are given in Lightfoot. They were remarkable for boldness and cun
ning (Jos. Antt. xx. 9, § 1), and also for avarice and meanness (Sifr. Deuteron.
§ 105). (Jer. Pea. 1, 6, quoted by Derenbourg, who calls them " ces pontifes
dgtestes" 381t [Hist. Pal, p. 468].) — An energetic malediction against all these
families is found in Pesachim, 57 a, in which occur the words, " Woe to the house
of Hanan ! woe to their serpent hissings ! " (\T\Wrba "b ^N Pn n'313 ^ ,1N> Id-
232.) — The Boethusians are reproached for their " bludgeons ; " the Kantheras
for their " libels " ; the Phabis for their " fists " (Raphall, Hist, of the Jews, ii. 370).
The passage is a little obscure, but the Talmud has many allusions to the worth-
lessness and worldliness of the priests of this period. (Renan, L'Antechrist, pp.
50, 51.)
3 pn, " clement," or " merciful."
4 John xviii. 19—24.

592 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
one who stood on the best terms with the Herods and the Procurators,
gave an exceptional weight to his prerogative decision. The mere
fact that he should have noticed Jesus at all showed that he attached
to His teaching a political significance — showed that he was at last
afraid lest Jesus should alienate the people yet more entirely from
the pontifical clique than had ever been done by Shemaia or Abtalion.
It is most remarkable, and, so far as I know, has scarcely ever been
noticed, that, although the Pharisees undoubtedly were actuated by a
burning hatred against Jesus, and were even so eager for His death
as to be willing to co-operate with the aristocratic and priestly Sad
ducees — from whom they were ordinarily separated by every
kind of difference, political, social, and religious — yet, from the
moment that the plot for His arrest and condemnation had been
matured, the Pharisees took so fittle part in it that their name is not
once directly mentioned in any event connected with the arrest, the
trial, the derisions, and the crucifixion. The Pharisees, as such, dis
appear ; the chief priests and elders take their place. It is, indeed, .
doubtful whether any of the more distinguished Pharisees were
members of the degraded simulacrum of authority which in those
bad days still arrogated to itself the title of a Sanhedrin. If we
may believe not a few of the indications of the Talmud, that Sanhe
drin was fittle better than a close, irreligious, unpatriotic confederacy
of monopolizing and time-serving priests — the Boethusim, the
Kamhits, the Phabis, the family of Hanan, mostly of non-Palestin
ian origin — who were supported by the government, but detested
by the people, and of whom this bad conspirator was the very life
and soul.
And, perhaps, we may see a further reason for the apparent with
drawal of the Pharisees from all active co-operation in the steps
which accompanied the condemnation and execution of Jesus, not
only in the superior mildness which is attributed to them, and in
their comparative insignificance in the civil administration, but
also in their total want of sympathy with those into whose too fatal
toils they had delivered the Son of God. There seems, indeed, to
be a hitherto unnoticed circumstance which, while it would kindle to
the highest degree the fury of the Sadducees, would rather enlist in
Christ's favor the sympathy of their rivals. What had roused the
disdainful insouciance of these powerful aristocrats ? Morally insig
nificant — the patrons and adherents of opinions which had so little
hold upon the people that Jesus had never directed against them one
tithe of the stem denunciation which He had levelled at the Phari
sees — they had played but a very minor part in the opposition which

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. « 593
had sprung up round the Messiah's steps. Nay, further than this,
they would be wholly at one with Him in rejecting and discounte
nancing the minute and casuistical frivolities of the Oral Law ; they
might even have rejoiced that they had in Him a holy and irresisti
ble ally in their opposition to all the Hagaddth and Halachdth which
had germinated in a fungus growth over the whole body of the
Mosaic institutions.1 Whence, then, this sudden outburst of the
very deadliest and most ruthless opposition ? It is a conjecture that
has not yet been made, but which the notices of the Talmud bring
home to my mind with strong conviction, that the rage of these
priests was mainly due to our Lord's words and acts concerning that
House of God which they regarded as their exclusive domain, and,
above all, to His second public cleansing of the Temple. They could
not indeed press this point in their accusations, because the act was
one of which, secretly at least, the Pharisees, in all probability,
heartily approved ; and had they urged it against Him they would
have lost all chance of impressing upon Pilate a sense of their una
nimity. The first cleansing might have been passed over as an
isolated act of zeal, to which little importance need be attached,
while the teaching of Jesus was mainly confined to despised and far-
off Galilee ; but the second had been more public, and more vehement,
and had apparently kindled a more general indignation against the
gross abuse which called it forth. Accordingly, in all three Evangelists
we find that those who complained of the act are not distinctively
Pharisees, but " Chief Priests and Scribes " (Matt. xxi. 15 ; Mark
xi. 18 ; Luke xix. 47), who seem at once to have derived from it a
fresh stimulus to seek His destruction.
But, again, it may be asked, Is there any reason beyond this bold
infraction of their authority, this indignant repudiation of an arrange
ment which they had sanctioned, which would have stirred up the
rage of these priestly families ? Yes — for we may assume from the
Talmud that it tended to wound their avarice, to interfere with -their
illicit and greedy gains. Avarice — the besetting sin of Judas —
the besetting sin of the Jewish race — seems also to have been the
besetting sin of the family of Hanan. It was they who had founded
the chanujdth — the famous four shops under the twin cedars of
Olivet — in which were sold things legally pure, and which they had
manipulated with such commercial cunning as artificially to raise the
price of doves to a gold coin apiece, until the people were delivered
from this gross imposition by the indignant interference of a grandson
1 Jos. Antt. xiii. 10, § 6.
75

594 ' THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
of Hillel. There is every reason to believe that the shops which
had intruded even under the Temple porticoes were not only sanc
tioned by their authority, but even managed for their profit. To
interfere with these was to rob them of one important source of that
wealth and worldly comfort to which they attached such extravagant
importance. There was good reason why Hanan, the head repre
sentative of "the viper brood," as a Talmudic writer calls them,
should strain to the utmost his cruel prerogative of power to crush a
Prophet whose actions tended to make him and his powerful family
at once wholly contemptible and comparatively poor.
Such then were the feelings of bitter contempt and hatred with
which the ex-High Priest assumed the initiative in interrogating
Jesus. The fact that he dared not avow them — nay, was forced to
keep them wholly out of sight — would only add to the intensity of
his bitterness. Even his method of procedure seems to have been as
wholly illegal as was his assumption, in such a place and at such an
hour, of any legal function whatever. Anxious, at all hazards, to
trump up some available charge of secret sedition, or of unorthodox
teaching, he questioned Jesus of His disciples and of His doctrine.
The answer, for all its calmness, involved a deep reproof. "/ have
spoken openly to the world ; / ever taught in the synagogue and in
the Temple, where all the Jews come together, and in secret I said
nothing. Why askest thou me ? Ask those who have heard me
what I said to them. Lo ! these " — pointing, perhaps, to the
bystanders ' — " know what I said to them." The emphatic repeti
tion of the " I," and its unusually significant position at the end of
the sentence, show that a contrast was intended ; as though He
had said, " This midnight, this sedition, this secrecy, this indecent
mockery of justice, are yours, not mine. There has never been
anything esoteric in my doctrine ; never anything to conceal in my
actions; no hole-and-corner plots among my followers. But thou?
and thine?" Even the minions of Annas felt the false position of
their master under this calm rebuke ; they felt that before the trans
parent innocence of this youthful Rabbi of Nazareth the hoary
hypocrisy of the crafty Sadducee was abashed. " Answerest thou
the High Priest so?" said one of them with a. burst of illegal inso
lence ; and then, unreproved by this priestly violator of justice, he
profaned with the first infamous blow the sacred face of Christ.
Then first that face which, as the poet-preacher says, "the angels
stare upon with wonder as infants at a bright sunbeam," was smitten
1 ovroi, not ixsivoi.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 595
by a contemptible slave. The insult was borne with noble meekness.
Even St. Paul, when similarly insulted, flaming into sudden anger
at such a grossly illegal violence, had scathed the ruffian and his
abettor with " God shall smite thee, thou whited wall ; " ' but He,
the Son of God — He who was infinitely above all apostles and all
angels — with no flash of anger, with no heightened tone of natural
indignation, quietly reproved the impudent transgressor with the
words, " If I spoke evil, bear witness concerning the evil ; but if
well, why smitest thou me ? " It was clear that nothing more could
be extorted from Him ; that before such a tribunal He would brook
no further question. Bound, in sign that He was to be condemned
— though unheard and unsentenced — Annas sent Him across the
court-yard to Joseph Caiaphas, his son-in-law, who, not by the grace
of God, but by the grace of the Roman Procurator, was the titular
High Priest.
ii. Caiaphas, like his father-in-law, was a Sadducee — equally astute
and unscrupulous with Annas, but endowed with less force of character
and will. In his house took place the second private and irregular
stage of the trial." There — for though the poor Apostles could
not watch for one hour in sympathetic prayer, these nefarious plot
ters could watch all night in their deadly malice — a few of the
most desperate enemies of Jesus among the Priests and Sadducees
were met. To form a session of the Sanhedrin there must at least
have been twenty-three members present. And we may perhaps
be allowed to conjecture that this particular body before which Christ
was now convened was mainly composed of Priests. There were
in fact three Sanhedrins, or as we should rather, call them, com
mittees of the Sanhedrin, which ordinarily met at different places
— in the Lishcat Ilaggazzith, or Paved Hall; in the Beth Mid
rash or Chamber by the Partition of the Temple; and near the
Gate of the Temple Mount. Such being the case, it is no unrea
sonable supposition that these committees were composed of different
1 Acts xxiii. 3. It is remarkable that in the Talmudic malediction of these
priestly families (Pesach. 57 ; Toseft. Menachdth, 15) there is an express complaint
that they monopolized all offices by making their sons treasurers, captains (of the
Temple), &c, and that " their servants (|DH3V) strike the people with their rods."
When Josephus talks of Hanan the son of Hanan as " a prodigious lover of liberty
and admirer of democracy," the mere context is quite sufficient to show that this
is a very careless, if not dishonest, judgment ; as for his wonderful " virtue " and
"justice," it is probable that Josephus hardly cared to reconcile his own statements
with what he records of him in Antt. xx. 9, § 1.
2 Matt. xxvi. 59 — 68 ; Mark xiv. 55 — 65. Irregular, for capital trials could only
take place by daylight (Sanhedr. iv. 1).

596 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
elements, and that one of them may have been mainly sacerdotal
in its constitution. If so, it would have been the most likely of
them all, at the present crisis, to embrace the most violent meas
ures against One whose teaching now seemed to endanger the very
existence of priestly rule.1
But, whatever may have been the nature of the tribunal over which
Caiaphas was now presiding, it is clear that the Priests were forced
to change ' their tactics. Instead of trying, as Hanan had done, to
overawe and entangle Jesus with insidious questions, and so to involve
Him in a charge of secret apostasy, they now tried to brand Him
with the crime of public error. In point of fact their own bitter
divisions and controversies made the task of convicting Him a very
difficult one. If they dwelt on any supposed opposition to civil
authority, that would rather enlist the sympathies of the Pharisees
in His favor ; if they dwelt on supposed Sabbath violations or neg
lect of traditional observances, that would accord with the views of
the Sadducees. The Sadducees dared not- complain of His cleansing
of the Temple : the Pharisees, or those who represented them, found
it useless to advert to His denunciations of tradition. But Jesus,
infinitely nobler than His own noblest Apostle, would not foment
these latent animosities, or evoke for His own deliverance a contest
of these slumbering prejudices. He did not disturb the temporary
compromise which united them in a common hatred against Himself.
Since, therefore, they had nothing else to go upon, the Chief Priests
and the entire Sanhedrin " sought false witness " — such is the ter
ribly simple expression of the Evangelists — " sought false witness
against Jesus to put Him to death." Many men, with a greedy,
unnatural depravity, seek false witness — mostly of the petty, igno
ble, malignant sort ; and the powers of evil usually supply it to them.
The Talmud seems to insinuate that the custom, which they pretend
was the general one, had been followed in the case of Christ, and-
that two witnesses had been placed in concealment while a treacher
ous disciple — ostensibly Judas Iscariot — had obtained from His
own lips an avowal of His claims. This, however, is no less false
1 Twenty-three would be about a third of the entire number (Maimonides,
Sanhedr. 3). Unless there be some slight confusion between the second and third
trials, the itdvxti of Mark xiv. 53 cannot be taken au pied de la lettre,381 1 but must
mean simply " all who were engaged in this conspiracy." Indeed, this seems to
be distinctly implied in Mark xv. 1. Similarly in Matt. xxvi. 59, rd dvveSpiov
oXov must mean " that entire committee of the Sanhedrin," as may be seen by
comparing it with xxvii. 1. That dvviSpiov may be used sjmply for a small
Beth Din is clear from Matt. v. 22. (Jost. i. 404.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 597
than the utterly absurd and unchronological assertion of the tract
Sanhedrin, that Jesus had been excommunicated by Joshua Ben
Perachiah, and that though for forty days a herald had proclaimed
that He had brought magic from Egypt and seduced the people, no
single witness came forward in His favor.1 Setting aside these
absurd inventions, we learn from the Gospels that though the agents
of these priests were eager to lie, yet their testimony was so false, so
shadowy, so self-contradictory, that it all melted to nothing, and even
those unjust and bitter judges could not with any decency accept it.
But at last two came forward, whose false witness looked more prom
ising." They had heard Him say something about destroying the
Temple, and rebuilding it in three days. According to one version
His expression had been, "i" can destroy this Temple ; " according
to another, "I will destroy this Temple." The fact was that He
had said neither, but "Destroy this Temple ; " and the imperative
had but been addressed, hypothetically, to them. They were to be
the destroyers ; He had but promised to rebuild. It was just one
of those perjuries which was all the more perjured, because it bore
some distant semblance to the truth ; and by just giving a different
nuance to His actual words they had, with the ingenuity of slander,
reversed their meaning, and hoped'to found upon them a charge of
constructive blasphemy. But even this semblable perjury utterly
broke down, and Jesus listened in silence while His disunited ene
mies hopelessly confuted each other's testimony. Guilt often breaks
into excuses where perfect innocence is dumb. He simply suffered
His false accusers and, their false listeners to entangle themselves in
the hideous coil of their own malignant lies, and the silence of the
innocent Jesus atoned for the excuses of the guilty Adam.
But that majestic silence troubled, thwarted, confounded, mad
dened them. It weighed them down for the moment with an incu
bus of intolerable self-condemnation. They felt, before that silence,
as if they were the culprits, He the judge. And as every poisoned
arrow of their carefully-provided perjuries fell harmless at His feet,
as though blunted on the diamond shield of His white innocence,
they began to fear lest, after all, their thirst for His blood would go
unslaked, and their whole plot fail. Were they thus to be conquered
by the feebleness of their own weapons, without His stirring a finger,
1 Sanhedr., 43 a. (Gratz, Gesch. Jud. iii. 242.) — See Excursus II., "Allusions to
Christ and Christians in the Talmud."
2 The brevity of the Evangelists prevents us f roin knowing whether the ordinary
Jewish rules of evidence were observed. For Josephus's account of the trial of
Zechariah the son of Baruch, see Bell. Jud. iv. 5, § 4.

598 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
or uttering a word ? Was this Prophet of Nazareth to prevail against
them, merely for lack of a few consistent lies ? Was His life charmed
even agamst calumny confirmed by oaths ? It was intolerable.
Then Caiaphas was overcome with a paroxysm of fear and anger.
Starting up from his judgment-seat, and striding into the midst 1 —
with what a voice, with what an attitude we may well imagine ! —
" Answerest Thou nothing? " he exclaimed. " What is it that these
witness against Thee ? " Had not Jesus been aware that these His
judges were wilfully feeding on ashes and seeking lies, He might
have answered ; but now His awful silence remained unbroken'.
Then, reduced to utter despair and fury, this false High Priest —
with marvellous inconsistency, with disgraceful illegality — still stand
ing as it were with a threatening attitude over his prisoner, exclaimed,
" I adjure Thee by the living God to tell us " — what ? whether Thou
art a malefactor ? whether Thou hast secretly taught sedition ? whether
Thou hast openly uttered blasphemy ? — no, but (and surely the ques
tion showed the dread misgiving which lay under all their deadly
conspiracy against Him) — " whether Thou art the Christ, the
Son of God?"
Strange question to a bound, defenceless, condemned criminal;
and strange question from such a questioner — a High Priest of his
people ! Strange question from the judge who was hounding on his
false witnesses against the prisoner ! Yet so adjured, and to such a
question, Jesus could not be silent ; on such a point He could not
leave Himself open to misinterpretation. In the days of His happier
ministry, when they would have taken Him by force to make Him a
King — in the days when to claim the Messiahship in their sense
would have been to meet all their passionate prejudices half way, and
to place Himself upon the topmost pinnacle of their adoring homage
— in those days He had kept His title of Messiah utterly in the back
ground : but now, at this awful decisive moment, when death was
near — when, humanly speaking, nothing could be gained, everything
must be lost, by the avowal — there thrilled through all the ages —
thrilled through that Eternity, which is the synchronism of all the
future, and all the present, and all the past — the solemn answer,
1 Mark xiv. 60, dvadrdi . . . eii pe'dov. The Sanhedrin sat on opposite
divans of «, circular hall ; the Nasi, or President, who was usually the High
Priest, sat in the middle at the farther end, with the Ab Beth Din, or Father of
the House of Judgment, on his right, and the Chakam, or Wise Man, on his left.
The accused was placed opposite to him. (See Jos. Bell. Jud. iv. 5, § 4 ; Keim
III. ii. 328.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 599
" I am ; ] and ye shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand
of power, and coming with the clouds of heaven." " In that answer
the thunder rolled — a thunder louder than at Sinai, though the ears
of the cynic and the Sadducee heard it not then, nor hear it now.
In overacted and ill-omened horror, the unjust judge who had thus
supplemented the failure of the perjuries which he had vainly sought
— the false High Priest rending his linen robes before the True 3 —
demanded of the assembly His instant condemnation.
"Blasphemy!" he exclaimed; "what further need have we of
witnesses ? See, now ye heard his blasphemy ! What is your decis
ion ? " And with the confused tumultuous cry, " He is ish maveth,"
" A man of death," " Guilty of death," the dark conclave was broken
up, and the second stage of the trial of Jesus was over.4
1 In Matt. xxvi. 64, 2v eiitai. Alford refers to John xii. 49.
2 Dan. vii. 13 : "I saw in the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of Man
came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of Days, and they
brought him near before him." Hence the hybrid term, Bar-y ecpeXr} , " Son of a
cloud," applied to the Messiah in Sanhedr. 96, 6.
8 This was forbidden to the High Priest in cases of mourning (Lev. x. 6 , xxi-
10) ; but the Jewish Halacha considered it lawful in cases of blasphemy (SjllJ,
gidduph) (1 Mace. xi. 71 ; Jos. B. J. ii. 15, § 4). As to Joseph Caiaphas the Talmud
is absolutely silent ; but the general conception which it gives of the priests of
this epoch agrees entirely with the Gospels. It tells how since the days of Vale
rius Gratus the office had constantly been bought and sold ; how the widow Mar
tha, daughter of Boethus, gave Agrippa II. two bushels of gold denarii to buy it
for Joshua Ben Gamala, her betrothed ; how it was disgraced by cringing mean
ness and supple sycophancy ; how there were more than eighty of these High
Priests of the second Temple (which they quoted in illustration of Prov. x. 27),
whereas there were only eighteen of the first Temple (Frankl, Monatsschrift,
Dec. 1852, p. 588 ; Raphall, Hist, of Jews, ii. 368) ; and many other disgraces and
enormities. 4 Cf. Numb. xxxv. 31.

600 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER LIX.
THE interval between the trials.
" I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the
hair ; I hid not my face from shame and spitting." — IsA. 1. 6.
And this was how the Jews at last received their promised Mes
siah — longed for with passionate hopes during two thousand years ;
since then regretted in bitter agony for well-nigh two thousand
more ! From this moment He was regarded ' by all the apparitors
of the Jewish Court as a heretic, liable to death by stoning ; and was
only remanded into custody to be kept till break of day, because by
daylight only, and in the Lishcat Haggazzith, or Hall of Judgment,
and only by a full session of the entire Sanhedrin, could He be
legally condemned. And since now they looked upon Him as a fit
person to be insulted with impunity, He was haled through the
court-yard to the guard-room with blows and curses, in which it may
be that not only the attendant menials, but even the cold but now
infuriated Sadducees took their share. It was now long past mid
night, and the spring air was then most chilly. In the centre of
the court the servants of the priests were warming themselves under
the frosty starlight as they stood round a fire of coals. And as He
was led past that fire He heard — what was to Him a more deadly
bitterness than any which His brutal persecutors could pour into His
cup of anguish — He heard His boldest Apostle denying Him with
oaths. For during these two sad hours of His commencing tragedy, as
He stood in the Halls of Annas and of Caiaphas, another. moral
tragedy, which He had already prophesied, had been taking place in
the outer court.
As far as we can infer from the various narratives," the palace in

1 " Millionen gebrochener Herzen und Augen haben seinen Tod noch nicht
abgebilsst " 382 (Gratz, iii. 245). On the whole of this trial, see the powerful and
noble remarks of Lange (iv. 309) and Keim (ubi supra),
2 In this narrative again there are obvious variations in the quadruple accounts
of the Evangelists ; but the text will sufficiently show that there is no irreconcil
able discrepancy if they are judged fairly and on common-sense principles. The

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 601
Jerusalem, conjointly occupied by Annas the real, and Caiaphas the
titular High Priest, seems to have been built round a square court,
and entered by an arched passage or vestibule ; and on the farther
side of it, probably up a short flight of steps,1 was the hall in which
the committee of the Sanhedrin had met. Timidly, and at a dis
tance, two only of the Apostles had so far recovered from their first
panic as to follow, far in the rear " of the melancholy procession.
One of these — the beloved disciple — known perhaps to the High
Priest's household as a young fisherman of the Lake of Galilee —
had found ready admittance, with no attempt to conceal his sympa
thies or his identity. Not so the other. Unknown, and a Galilsean,
he had been stopped at the door by the youthful portress. Better,
far better, had his exclusion been final. For it was a night of
tumult, of terror, of suspicion ; and Peter was weak, and his intense
love was mixed with fear, and yet he was venturing into the very
thick of his most dangerous enemies. But John, regretting that he
should be debarred from entrance, and judging perhaps of his
friend's firmness by his own, exerted his influence to obtain admis
sion for him. With bold imprudence, and concealing the better
motives which had brought him thither, Peter, warned though he
had been, but warned in vain, walked into the court-yard, and sat
down in the very middle of the servants 3 of the very men before
whom at that moment his Lord was being arraigned on a charge of
death. . The portress, after the admission of those concerned in the
capture, seems to have been relieved (as was only natural at that
late hour) by another maid, and advancing to the group of her
fellow-servants, she fixed a curious and earnest gaze * on the dubious
stranger as he sat full in the red glare of the firelight, and then, with
a flash of recognition, she exclaimed, "Why, you, as well as the
other, were with Jesus of Galilee." 6 Peter was off his guard. At
conception of accuracy in ancient writers differed widely from our own, and a doc
ument is by no means necessarily inaccurate, because" the brevity, or the special
purpose, or the limited information of the writer, made it necessarily incomplete.
" Qui plura dicit, pauciora complectitur ; qui pauciora dicit, plura non negat." 3S3
1 Mark xiv. 66, x a r go iv ry avXy.
5 Luke xxii. 54, paxpoBev.
3 Luke xxii. 55, pidoi avraov.
4 Luke xxii. 56, drsvidada. For the other particulars in this clause compare
John xviii. 17 with Matt. xxvi. 69 ; Mark xiv. 67. For female porters, see Mark
xiii. 34; Acts xii. 13.
6 It is most instructive to observe that no one of the Evangelists puts exactly
the same words into her mouth (showing clearly the nature of their report), and
yet each faithfully preserves the xai, which, in the maid's question, couples Peter
with John. 76

602 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
this period of life his easy impressionable nature was ever liable to
be moulded by the influence of the moment, and he passed readily
into passionate extremes. Long, long afterwards, we find a wholly
unexpected confirmation of the probability of this sad episode of his
life, in the readiness with which he lent himself to the views of the
Apostle of the Gentiles, and the equal facility with which a false
shame, and a fear of "them which were of the circumcision," made-
him swerve into the wrong and narrow proprieties of " certain which
came from James." And thus it was that the mere curious question
of an inquisitive young girl startled him by its very suddenness into
a quick denial of his Lord. Doubtless, at the moment, it presented
itself to him as a mere prudent evasion of needless danger. But did
he hope to stop there ? Alas, "• once denied " is always " thrice
denied ; " and the sudden " manslaughter upon truth " always, and
rapidly, develops into its utter and deliberate murder ; and a lie is
like a stone set rolling upon a mountain-side, which is instantly
beyond its utterer's control.
For a moment, perhaps, his denial was accepted, for it had been
very public, and very emphatic.1 But it warned him of his danger.
Guiltily he slinks away again from the glowing brazier to the arched
entrance of the court, as the crowing of a cock smote, not quite un
heeded, on his guilty ear." His respite was very short. The portress
— part of whose duty it was to draw attention to dubious strangers
— had evidently gossiped about him to the servant who had relieved
her in charge of the door. Some other idlers were standing about,
and this second maid pointed him out to them as having certainly
been with Jesus of Nazareth. A lie seemed more than ever necessary
now, and to secure himself from all further molestation he even con
firmed it with an oath. But now flight seemed impossible, for it
1 Matt. xxvi. 70, epitpodBsv itdvraov; Mark xiv. 68, ovx oiSa (sc. avrov),
ovSi iitidrapai dv ri Xiyeii.
2 Matt. xxvi. 71, eii rdv itvXaova ; Mark xiv. 68, Eli rd itpoavXiov. There
must be some trivial " inaccuracy," if any one cares to press the word, either here
or in John xviii. 25 (siitov ovy avrap), Luke xxii. 58 (srspoi). A wretched
pseudo-criticism has fixed on the cock as " unhistorical," because the Jews are
thought to have held cocks unclean, from their scratching in the dung. But not
to mention that the bird may have belonged to some Roman in the Tower of
Antonia, other Talmudical stories show that cocks were kept at Jerusalem : e. g.,
the story of a cock that was stoned for killing an infant (Berachdth, 27, 1 ; see
Buxtorf, Lex. Talm. 81, 2653). It is a condescension to notice such objections,
particularly when they are supposed to rest on Talmudical authorities quoted
from our imperfect knowledge of a literature which is inveterately unhistorical,
and abounds in self-contradictions. See Excursus XII., " Notes on the Talmud."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 603
would only confirm suspicion ; so with desperate, gloomy resolution
he once more — with feefings which can barely be imagined — joined
the unfriendly and suspicious group who were standing round the
fire. A whole hour passed : for him it must have been a fearful hour,
and one never to be forgotten. The temperament of Peter was far
too nervous and vehement to suffer him to feel at ease under this
new complication of ingratitude and falsehood. If he remain silent
among these priestly servitors, he is betrayed by the restless self-
consciousness of an evil secret which tries in vain to simulate indiffer
ence ; if he brazen it out with careless talk, he is fatally betrayed by
his Galilsean burr. It is evident that, in spite of denial and of oath,
they wholly distrust and despise him ; and at last one of the High
Priest's servants — a kinsman of the wounded Malchus — once more
strongly and confidently charged him with having been with Jesus
in the garden, taunting him, in proof of it, with the misplaced gut
turals of his provincial dialect. The others joined in the accusation.1
Unless he persisted, all was lost which might seem to have been
gained. Perhaps one more effort would set him quite free from these
troublesome charges, and enable him to wait and see the end.
Pressed closer and closer by the sneering, threatening band of idle
servitors — sinking deeper and deeper into the mire of faithlessness
and fear — " then began he to curse and to swear, saying, I know not
the man." And at that fatal moment of guilt, which might well
have been for him the moment of an apostasy as fatal and final as
had been that of his brother apostle — at that fatal moment, while
those shameless curses still quivered on the air — first the cock crew
in the cold grey dusk, and at the same moment, catching the last
accents of those perjured oaths, either through the open portal of the
judgment-hall," or as He was led past the group at the fireside through
the open court, with rude pushing and ribald jeers, and blows and
spitting — the Lord — the Lord in the agony of His humiliation,^ in
the majesty of His silence — " the Lord twrned and looked upon
Peter." Blessed are those on whom, when He looks in sorrow, the '
Lord looks also with love ! It was enough. Like an arrow through
his inmost soul, shot the mute eloquent anguish of that reproachful
glance. As the sunbeam smites the last hold of snow upon the rock,
'John xviii. 26 (dvyysvrji) ; Luke xxii. 59 (dXXoi ni Siidxvpfi^sro); Matt.
xxvi. 73 (oi idraorsi) ; Mark xiv. 70 (oi itapsdr ao-rsi).
2 The room in which Jesus was being tried may have been one of the kind called
mucKad in the East, i. e., a room with an open front, two or more arches, and a
low railing, the floor of which is paved leewa'n. (Lane, Mod. Egyptians, i. 22.)

604 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
ere it rushes in avalanche down the tormented hill, so the false self of
the fallen Apostle slipped away. It was enough : " he saw no more
enemies, he knew no more danger, he feared no more death." Fling
ing the fold of his mantle over his head,1 he too, like Judas, rushed
forth into the night. Into the night, but not as Judas ; into the
unsunned outer darkness of miserable self-condemnation, but not into
the midnight of remorse and of despair ; into the night, but, as has
been beautifully said, it was " to meet the morning dawn." " If the
angel of Innocence had left him, the angel of Repentance took him
gently by the hand. Sternly, yet tenderly, the spirit of grace led up
this broken-hearted penitent before the tribunal of his own conscience,
and there his old life, his old shame, his old weakness, his old self
was doomed to that death of godly sorrow which was to issue in a
new and a nobler birth.
And it was this crime, committed against Him by the man who
had first proclaimed Him as the Christ — who had come to Him over
the stormy water — who had drawn the sword for Him in Gethsemane
— who had affirmed so indignantly that he would die with Him rather
than deny Him — it was this denial, confirmed by curses, that Jesus
heard immediately after He had been condemned to death, and at
the very commencement of His first terrible derision. For, in the
guard-room to which He was remanded to await the break of day, all
the ignorant malice of religious hatred, all the narrow vulgarity of
brutal spite, all the cold innate cruelty which lurks under the abject-
ness of Oriental servility, was let loose against Him. His very meek
ness, His very silence, His very majesty — the very stainlessness of
His innocence, the very grandeur of His fame — every divine circum
stance and quality which raised Him to a height so infinitely immeas
urable above His persecutors — all these made Him an all the more
welcome victim for their low and devilish ferocity. They spat in
His face ; they smote Him with rods ; they struck Him with their
closed fists and with their open palms.3 In the fertility of their
furious and hateful insolence, they invented against Him a .sort of
1 iitifiaXaov (Mark xiv. 72). This seems a better meaning than (i.) " vehemently "
(Matthew, Luke, itixpaoi), or (ii.) " when he thought thereon" (but cf. Marc. Aurel.
Comment, x. 30), or (iii.) " hiding his face in his hands."
" Lange, vi. 319.
3 Matt. xxvi. 67, iviitrvdav . . . ixoXd cpid av (slapped with open
palm) . . . ifipditidav (struck, probably with sticks) ; Mark xiv. 65, paitid-
padiv . . sXafiov at. £/3aXXov; Luke xxii. 63,64, ive'itaiZov avrm
Se p ovr s i . . . rii i6riv 6 itaidai ds; There is a pathetic variety
in these five forms of insult by blows [cf. Acts xxi. 32 ; xxiii. 2 ; Isa. 1. 6 ; and the
treatment of one of Annas's own sons (Jos. B. J. iv. 5, § 3)1.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 605
game. Blindfolding His eyes, they hit Him again and again, with
the repeated question, " Prophesy to us, O Messiah, who it is that,
smote thee." ' So they wiled away the dark cold hours till the
morning, revenging themselves upon His impassive innocence for
their own present vileness and previous terror ; and there, in the
midst of that savage and wanton varletry, the Son of God, bound
and blindfold, stood in His long and silent agony, defenceless and
alone. It was His first derision — His derision as the Christ, the
Judge attainted, the Holy One a criminal, the Deliverer in bonds.
iii. At last the miserable lingering hours were over, and the grey
dawn shuddered, and the morning blushed upon that memorable day.
And with the earliest dawn — for so the Oral Law ordained," and
they who could trample on all justice and all mercy were yet scrupu
lous about all the infinitely little — Jesus was led into the Lishcat
Haggazzith, or Paved Hall at the southeast of the Temple, or per
haps into the Chanujdth, or " Shops," which owed their very exist
ence to Hanan and his family, where the Sanhedrin had been sum
moned, for His third actual, but His first formal and legal trial.3 It
was how probably about six o'clock in the morning, and a full session
met. Well-nigh all — for there were the noble exceptions at least of
Nicodemus and of Joseph of Arimathea, and we may hope also of
Gamaliel, the grandson of Hillel — were inexorably bent upon His
death. The Priests were there, whose greed and selfishness He had
reproved ; the Elders, whose hypocrisy He had branded ; the Scribes,
1 Wetstein quotes from Sanhedr. f. 93 b, a similar tentative applied to the false
Messiah, Bar-Cochebas.
2 Zoliar, 56. See Excursus V.
3 Luke xxii. 66 — 71. It is only by courtesy that this body can be regarded as a
Sanhedrin at all. Jost observes that there is in the Romish period no trace of
any genuine legal Sanhedrin, apart from mere special incompetent gatherings.
(See Jos. Antt. xx. 9, § 1 ; B. J. iv. 5, § 4.) But all the facts about the Sanhedrin
of this period are utterly obscure. On Sabbaths and feast days they are said to
have met in the Beth Midrash, or Temple Synagogue, which was built along the
ChSl, or wall between the Outer Court and the Court of the Women. (Lightfoot,
Hor. Hebr.; Keim, &c.) R. Ismael, son of R. Josfe, the author of Seder Olam, is
reported to have said that " forty years before the destruction of the Temple the
Sanhedrin exiled itself (from the Paved Hall), and established itself in the Chan
ujdth " (Aboda Zara, 8 b) ; and this is the first of ten migrations of the Sanhedrin
mentioned in Rosh Hashana, 31 u. These Chanujdth, four in number, are said to
have been shops for the sale of doves, &c, under a cedar on the Mount of Olives,
connected with the Temple by a bridge over the Kedron (Taanith, iv. 8). They
seem to have been founded by the family of Annas, who made them very proBt-
able, and they are called ijrt 'J3 DVOn. They were destroyed by the mob when
the goods of these detested priests were pillaged three years before the siege of
Jerusalem. (Derenbourg, Hist, de Pal. 468 ; Buxtorf, Lex Talm. B. v. p, p. 514.)

(J06 THE LIFE OF ¦ CHRIST.
whose ignorance He had exposed ; ! and worse than all, the worldly,
sceptical, would-be philosophic Sadducees, always the most cruel and
dangerous of opponents," whose empty sapience He had so grievously
confuted. All these were bent upon His death ; all filled with repul
sion at that infinite goodness ; all burning with hatred against a nobler
nature than any which they could even conceive in their loftiest dreams.
And yet their task in trying to achieve His destruction was not easy.
The Jewish fables of His death in the Talmud, which are shamelessly
false from beginning to end,3 say that for forty days, though sum
moned daily by heraldic proclamation, not one person came forward,
according to custom, to maintain His innocence, and that consequently
He was first stoned as a seducer of the people (mesith), and then
hung on the accursed tree. The fact was that the Sanhedrists had
not the power of inflicting death,4 and even if the Pharisees would
have ventured to usurp it in a tumultuary sedition, as they afterwards
1 These are the Sopherim, who may perhaps have ordinarily formed a separate
committee of the Sanhedrin. See Excursus XIII., " The Sanhedrin."
2 Though Josephus was a Pharisee, we may, from its probability, accept his
testimony on this point — eidi itspi rdi xpidsii aopoi itapd itdvrai rovi
'IovSai'ovi s64 (Antt. xx. 9, § 1 ; B. J. ii. 8, § 14). The philosophic insouciance
of a man of the world, when once thoroughly irritated, knows no scruples.
Ordinarily the Sanhedrin was a mild tribunal. The members fasted a whole day
when they had condemned any one to death, and many Rabbis declared themselves
with strong abhorrence against capital punishments. Some of them — like R.
Akiba — considered it a blot on a meeting of the Sanhedrin to condemn even one
offender to death. (Salvador, Institt. de Moise, ii. ; Vie de Jesus, ii. 108.) Their
savagery on this occasion was doubtless due to Sadducean influence. The Megillath
Taanith, § 10, mentions a sort of traditional penal code of this party which seems
to have been Draconian in its severity, and which the Pharise.es got set aside.
These Sadducean priests, like Simeon Ben Shetach before them, had " hot hands."
(Derenbourg, p. 106.) See Excursus XIV., " Pharisees and Sadducees."
3 Any one who cares to look at the Talmudic falsehoods and confusion about
Ben Sotada, Pandera, &c, may see them in Buxtorf, Lex. Talm. s, v. "TOD, P- 1458,
seqq. ; Derenbourg, Hist, de Pal. 468, seqq. In unexpurgated editions of the Tal
mud, the name of Jesus is said to occur twenty times. See Excursus II., "Allusions
to Christ and Christians in the Talmud."
4 This is distinctly stated by the Jews in John xviii. 31, and though contempo
rary notices seem to show that in any common case the Romans might overlook a
judicial murder on religious grounds (John v. 18 ; vii. 25 ; Acts xxiii. 27), yet the
Jews could not always act as they liked in such cases with impunity, as was
proved by the reprimand and degradation of the younger Hanan for the part
which he and the Sanhedrin took in the execution of James the brother of Jesus.
Dollinger (First Age of the Church, E. Tr., p. 420) takes a different view, and thinks
that all they meant was, that they could not crucify or put to death during a feast.
But whatever may be the difficulties of the subject, the Talmud Beems to confirm
the distinct assertion of St. John. (Berachdth, f . 58, 1, and six or seven other places.
See Buxtorf, Lex. Talm. p. 514.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 607
did in the case of Stephen, the less fanatic and more cosmopolitan
Sadducees would be less likely to do so. Not content, therefore,
with the cherem, or ban of greater excommunication, their only way
to compass His death was to hand Him over to the secular arm.1 At
present they had only against Him a charge of constructive blasphemy,
founded on an admission forced from Him by the High Priest, when
even their own suborned witnesses had failed to perjure themselves
to their satisfaction. There were many old accusations against Him,
on which they could not rely. His violations of the Sabbath, as they
called them, were all connected with miracles, and brought them,
therefore, upon dangerous ground. His rejection of oral tradition
involved a question on which Sadducees and Pharisees were at deadly
feud. His authoritative cleansing of the Temple might be regarded
with favor both by the Rabbis and the people. The charge of eso
teric evil doctrines had been refuted by the utter publicity of His
life. The charge of open heresies had broken down, from the total
absence of supporting testimony. The problem before them was to
convert the ecclesiastical charge of constructive blasphemy into a
civil charge of constructive treason. But how could this be done ?
Not half the members of the Sanhedrin had been present at the hur
ried, nocturnal, and therefore illegal, session in the house of Caia
phas ; " yet if they were all to condemn Him by a formal sentence,
they must all hear something on which to found their vote. In
answer to the adjuration of Caiaphas, He had solemnly admitted that
He was the Messiah and the Son of God. The latter declaration
would have been meaningless as a charge against Him before the
tribunal of the Romans ; but if He would repeat the former, they
might twist it into something politically seditious. But He would
not repeat it, in spite of their insistance, because He knew that it
was open to their wilful misinterpretation, and because they were
evidently acting in flagrant violation of their own express rules and
traditions, which demanded that every arraigned criminal should be
regarded and treated as innocent until his guilt was actually proved.
Perhaps, as they sat there with their King, bound and helpless
before them, standing silent amid their clamorous voices, one or two
of their most venerable members may have recalled the very differ
ent scene when Shemaia (Sameas) alone had broken the deep silence
of their own cowardly terror upon their being convened to pass judg
ment on Herod for his murders. On that occasion, as Sameas had
1 Acts ii. 23, Sid xeipaov dvopcov itpoditi}%avr£i.zas
2 Be tardy in judgment " (Pirke Abhdth ; Sanh. i. f . 7). Kjn i>D3 WT m (Sanh.
95, 1 ; Buxtorf, Lex. Talm., p. 515).

608 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
pointed out, Herod had stood before them, not "in a submissive
manner, with his hair dishevelled, and in a black and mourning gar
ment," but " clothed in purple, and with the hair of his head finely
trimmed, and with his armed men about him." And since no one
dared, for very fear, even to mention the charges against him,
Shemaia had prophesied that the day of vengeance should come, and
that the very Herod before whom they and their prince Hyrcanus
were trembling, would one day be the minister of God's anger
against both him and them.1 What a contrast was the present scene
with that former one of half a century before! Now they were
clamorous, then- King was silent; they were powerful, their King
defenceless ; they guilty, their King divinely innocent ; they the
ministers of earthly wrath, their King the arbiter of Divine retribu
tion. But at last, to end a scene at once miserable and disgraceful, Jesus
spoke. " If I tell you," He said, " ye will not believe ; and if I ask
you a question, you will not answer me." Still, lest they should
have any excuse for failing to understand who He was, He added in
tones of solemn warning, " But henceforth shall the Son of Man sit
on the right hand of the power of God." " Art thou, then," they
all exclaimed, " the Son of God ? " " " Ye say that I am," 3 He
answered, in a formula with which they were familiar, and of which
they understood the full significance. And then they too cried out,
as Caiaphas had done before, "What further need have we of
witness? for we ourselves heard from His own mouth." And so
in this third condemnation by Jewish authority — a condemnation
which they thought that Pilate would simply ratify, and so appease
their burning hate — ended the third stage of the trial of our Lord.
And this sentence also seems to have been followed by a second
derision4 resembling the first, but even more full of insult, and

1 Jos. Antt. xiv. 9, § 4; Bab. Sanhedrin, f. 19, a,b. It is on this memorable
occasion that we first meet with the name of Sanhedrin. Here Hyrcanus is, with
the usual Jewish carelessness, called Jannseus, and Shemaia is called Simeon Ben
Shetach. There seems, however, to be inextricable confusion between the names
Hillel, Pollio, Abtalion, and Sameas, Shammai, Shemaia, and Simeon.
2 Cf. Dan. vii. 13 ; Ps. viii. 4 ; ex. 1.
3 On this formula (antt' amarta, Keim), which is found in the Talmud, see
Schottgen, Hor. Hebr., p. 225, and the remarks of De Quincey, Works, iii. 304. It
is clearly more than a mere affirmation.
4 Unless Luke xxii. 63 — 65 (which seems as though it refers to verse 71) describes
the issue of one of the trials which he has not narrated ; but, literally taken, we
might infer from Matt. xxvi. 67, that' those who insulted Christ after the second
trial were not only the servants.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 609
worse to bear than the former, inasmuch as the derision of Priests,
and Elders, and Sadducees is even more repulsively odious than that
of menials and knaves.
Terribly soon did the Nemesis fall on the main actor in the lower
stages of this iniquity. Doubtless through all those hours Judas had
been a secure spectator of all that had occurred, and when the morn
ing dawned upon that chilly night, and he knew the decision of the
Priests and of the Sanhedrin, and saw that Jesus was now given over
for crucifixion to the Roman Governor, then he began fully to realize
all that he had done. There is in a great crime an awfully illumin
ating power.1 It lights up the theatre of the conscience with an un
natural glare, and, expelling the twilight glamour of self-interest,
shows the actions and motives in their full and true aspect. In
Judas, as in so many thousands before and since, this opening of the
eyes which follows the consummation of an awful sin to which many
other sins have led, drove him from remorse to despair, from despair
to madness, from madness to suicide. Had he, even then, but gone
to His Lord and Saviour, and prostrated himself at His feet to im
plore forgiveness, all might have been well. But, alas ! he went
instead to the patrons and associates and tempters of his crime.
From them he met with no pity, no counsel. He was a despised and
broken instrument, and now he was tossed aside. They met his
maddening remorse with chilly indifference and callous contempt.
" I have sinned," he shrieked to them, " in that I have betrayed inno
cent blood." Did he expect them to console his remorseful agony,
to share the blame of his guilt, to excuse and console him with their
lofty dignity ? " What is that to us ? See thou to that," " was the
sole and heartless reply they deigned to the poor traitor whom they
had encouraged, welcomed, incited to his deed of infamy. He felt
that he was of no importance any longer ; that in guilt there is no
possibility for mutual respect, no basis for any feeling but mutual
abhorrence. His paltry thirty pieces of silver were all that he would
get. For these he had sold his soul ; and these he should no more
enjoy than Achan enjoyed the gold he buried, or Ahab the garden
he had seized. Flinging them wildly down upon the pavement into
the holy place where the priests sat, and into which he might not
enter, he hurried into the despairing solitude from which he would
1 Tac. Ann. xiv. 10, "Perfecto demum scelere magnitudo ejus intellecta est"386
(cf. Juv. Sal. xiii. 238). I have tried to develop this strange law of the moral
world in my Silence and Voices of God, p. 43.
2 Matt, xxvii. 4, 2v oif>%. The same words were given back to them by Pilate
(ver. 24).
77

(J 1Q THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
never emerge alive. In that solitude, we may never know what
" Unclean wings " were flapping about his head. Accounts differed
as to the wretch's death. The probability is that the details were
never accurately made public. According to one account, he hung
himself, and tradition still points in Jerusalem to a ragged, ghastly,
wind-swept tree, which is called the " tree of Judas." According to
another version — not irreconcilable with the first, if we suppose that
a rope or a branch broke under his weight — he fell headlong, burst
asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out.1 According to a
third " — current among the early Christians — his body swelled to a
huge size, under some hideous attack of elephantiasis, and he was
crushed by a passing wagon. The arch-conspirators, in their sancti
monious scrupulosity, would not put the blood-money which he had
returned into the " Corban," or sacred treasury, but, after taking
counsel, bought with it the potter's field to bury strangers in — a plot
of ground which perhaps Judas had intended to purchase, and in
which he met his end. That field was long known and shuddered at
as the Aceldama, or "field of blood," a place foul, haunted, and
horrible.3

1 Acts i. 18.
2 Said to be derived from Papias (see Hofmann, 333 ; Cramer, Cat. in Acts Ap.,
p. 12). In the Book of Jubilees the death of Cain is similarly described. (Ewald,
Gesch. Christ., p. 535.)
3 St. Matthew, ever alive to Old Testament analogies, connects this circumstance
with passages (apparently) of Jeremiah (xviii. 1, 2 ; xxxii. 6 — 12) and Zechariah
(xi. 12, 13). It is curious that St. Matthew never names Zechariah, though he
three times quotes him (xxi. 5 ; xxvi. 31 ; xxvii. 9) ; but it was a Jewish proverb
that Zechariah had the spirit of Jeremiah, and it is possible (vide Wordsworth ad
loc.) that this passage originally belonged to Jeremiah. The right translation
seems to be, " cast it into the treasury." The notion that two fields were called
Aceldama is probably a mistake of the Harmonists. Different sites for Aceldama
have been pointed out at different times. Since Jeremiah's day pilgrims have
been shown a field with a charnel-liouse in it, opposite the Pool of Siloam. Papias
says that, as though the very ground were cursed, no one could pass it, idv urj
rdi pivai rati xspdiv iiticppdtly.ls'

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 611

CHAPTER LX.
JESUS BEFORE PILATE.
" Per procuratorem Pontium Pilatum supplicio affectus erat." 38S — Tac. Ann.
xv. 44.
" Suffered under Pontius Pilate " — so, in every creed of
Christendom, is the unhappy name of the Roman Procurator handed
down to eternal execration. Yet the object of introducing that name
was not to point a moral, but to fix an epoch ; and, in point of fact,
of all the civil and ecclesiastical rulers before, whom Jesus was brought
to judgment, Pilate was the least guilty of malice and hatred, the
most anxious, if not to spare His agony, at least to save His life.
What manner of man was this in whose hands were placed, by
power from above, the final destinies of the Saviour's fife ? Of his
origin, and of his antecedents before A. D. 26, when he became the
sixth Procurator of Judssa, but little is known. In rank he belonged
to the ordb equester, and he owed his appointment to the influence of
Sejanus. His name " Pontius " seems to point to a Samnite extrac
tion ; his cognomen " Pilatus " to a warlike ancestry. His praenomen,
if he had one, has not been preserved. In Judaea he had acted with
all the haughty violence and insolent cruelty of a typical Roman
governor. Scarcely had he been well installed as Procurator, when,
allowing his soldiers to bring with them by night the silver eagles
and other insignia of the legions from Cassarea to the Holy City, he
excited a furious outburst of Jewish feeling against an act which they
regarded as idolatrous profanation. For five days and nights — often
lying prostrate on the bare ground — they surrounded and almost
stormed his residence at Csesarea with tumultuous and threatening
entreaties, and could not be made to desist on the sixth, even by the
peril of immediate and indiscriminate massacre at the hands of the
soldiers whom he sent to surround them. He had then sullenly
given way, and this foretaste of the undaunted and fanatical resolu
tion of the people with whom he had to deal, went far to embitter
his whole administration with a sense of overpowering disgust.1
1 Jos. Antt. xviii. 3, § 1 ; B.J. ii. 9, §§ 2, 3.

(J 12 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
The outbreak of the Jews on a second occasion was perhaps less
justifiable, but it might easily have been avoided, if Pilate would
have studied their character a little more considerately, and paid more
respect to their dominant superstition. Jerusalem seems to have
always suffered, as it does very grievously to this day, from a bad
and deficient supply of water. To remedy this inconvenience, Pilate
undertook to build an aqueduct, by which water could be brought
from the " Pools of Solomon." Regarding this as a matter of public
benefit, he applied to the purpose some of the money from the
" Corban," or sacred treasury, and the people rose in furious myriads
to resent this secular appropriation of their sacred fund. Stung by
their insults and reproaches, Pilate disguised a number of his soldiers
in Jewish costume, and sent them among the mob, with staves and
daggers concealed under their garments, to punish the ringleaders.
Upon the refusal of the Jews to separate quietly, a signal was given,
and the soldiers carried out their instructions with such hearty good
will, that they wounded and beat to death not a few both of the
guilty and the innocent, and created so violent a tumult that many
perished by being trodden to death under the feet of the terrified
and surging mob.1 Thus, in a nation which produced the sicari.i,
Pilate had given a fatal precedent of sicarian conduct ; the assassins
had received from their Procurator an example of the use of political
assassination. A third seditious tumult must still more have embittered the dis
gust of the Roman Governor for his subjects, by showing him how
impossible it was to live among such a people — even in a concilia
tory spirit — without outraging some of their sensitive prejudices.
In the Herodian palace at Jerusalem, which he occupied during the
festivals, he had hung some gilt shields dedicated to Tiberius. In
the speech of Agrippa before the Emperor Caius, as narrated by
Philo, this act is attributed to wanton malice; but since, by the
king's own admission, the shields were perfectly plain, and were
merely decorated with a votive inscription, it is fair to suppose that
the Jews had taken offence at what Pilate simply intended for a

1 These two instances are twice related by Josephus, Antt. xviii. 3, §§ 1, 2 B. J
ii. 9, §| 2, 3, 4. Ewald has precariously conjectured that the " tower of Siloam"
which fell and crushed eighteen people may have been connected with these
works, and so may have furnished ground to those who desired to interpret that
accident as a Divine judgment (Gesch. v. 40 ; Luke xiii. 4). It has been suggested
with some probability that the real disgust of the Jews against the plan for build
ing an aqueduct was due to a belief that its construction would render the city
less easy of defence.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 613
harmless private ornament ; and one which, moreover, he could hardly
remove without some danger of offending the gloomy and suspicious
Emperor to whose honor they were dedicated. Since he would not
give way, the chief men of the nation wrote a letter of complaint to
Tiberius himself. It was a part of Tiberius's policy to keep the
provinces contented, and his masculine intellect despised the obsti
nacy which would risk an insurrection rather than sacrifice a whim.
He therefore reprimanded Pilate, and ordered the obnoxious shields
to be transferred from Jerusalem to the Temple of Augustus at

The latter incident is related by Philo only ; ' and besides these
three outbreaks, we hear in the Gospels of some wild tumult in
which Pilate had mingled the blood of the Galilseans with their sac
rifices. He was finally expelled from his Procuratorship in conse
quence of an accusation preferred against him by the Samaritans,
who complained to Lucius Yitellius, the Legate of Syria, that he had
wantonly attacked, slain, and executed a number of them who had
assembled on Mount Gerizim by the invitation of an impostor —
possibly Simon Magus — who promised to show them the Ark and
sacred vessels of the Temple, which, he said, had been concealed
there by Moses." The conduct of Pilate seems on this occasion to
have been needlessly prompt and violent ; and although, when he
arrived at Rome, he found that Tiberius was dead, yet even Gaius
refused to reinstate him in his government, thinking it no doubt a
bad sign that he should thus have become unpleasantly involved
with the people of every single district in his narrow government.
Sejanus had shown the most utter dislike against the Jews, and Pilate
probably reflected his patron's antipathies.3
Such was Pontius Pilate, whom the pomps and perils of the great
yearly festival had summoned from his usual residence at Csesarea
Phifippi to the capital of the nation which he detested, and the head
quarters of a fanaticism which he despised. At Jerusalem he occupied
one of the two gorgeous palaces which had been erected there by the
lavish architectural extravagance of the first Herod. It was situated
in the Upper City to the south-west of the Temple Hill, and like the
similar building at Csesarea, having passed from the use of the pro
vincial lring to that of the Roman governor, was called Herod's Prae-

1 Legat. ad Caium, § 38. Philo calls him fiapvpvvii, and x-ijv cpvdiv
duapitrji xai psrd rov avBdSovi dpsiXixroi.3SS
2 Jos. Antt. xviii. 4, § 1. This was a Messianic expectation (Ewald, GescJi. Isr. v
171, E. Tr.).
3 Se,e Salvador, Dominion Romaine, i. 428.

614 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
torium.1 It was one of those luxurious abodes, " surpassing all descrip
tion," which were in accordance with the tendencies of the age, and
on which Josephus dwells with ecstasies of admiration." Between
its colossal wings of white marble — called respectively Csesareum
and Agrippeum, in the usual spirit of Herodian flattery to the Impe
rial house — was, an open space commanding a noble view of Jerusa
lem, adorned with sculptured porticos and columns of many-colored
marble, paved with rich mosaics, varied with fountains and reservoirs,
and green promenades which furnished a delightful asylum to flocks
of doves.3 Externally it was a mass of lofty walls, and towers, and
gleaming roofs, mingled in exquisite varieties of splendor ; within, its
superb rooms, large enough to accommodate a hundred guests, were
adorned with gorgeous furniture and vessels of gold and silver. A
magnificent abode for a mere Roman knight ! and yet the f urious fanat
icism of the populace at Jerusalem made it a house so little desirable,
that neither Pilate nor his predecessors seem to have cared to enjoy
its luxuries for more than a few weeks in the whole year. They were
forced to be present in the Jewish capital during those crowded festi
vals which were always liable to be disturbed by some outburst of
inflammable patriotism, and they soon discovered that even a gorgeous
palace can furnish but a repulsive residence if it be built on the heav
ing lava of a volcano.
In that kingly palace — such as in His days of freedom He had
never trod — began, in three distinct acts, the fourth stage of that
agitating scene which preceded the final agonies of Christ. It was
unlike the idle inquisition of Annas — the extorted confession of
Caiaphas — the illegal decision of the Sanhedrin; for here His
judge was in His favor, and with all the strength of a feeble pride,
and all the daring of a guilty cowardice, and all the pity of which a
blood-stained nature was capable, did strive to deliver Him. This last
trial is full of passion and movement : it involves a threefold change
of scene, a threefold accusation, a threefold acquittal by the Romans,
a threefold rejection by the Jews, a threefold warning to Pilate, and
1 Acts xxiii. 35. Verres occupied an old palace of Hiero at Syracuse (Cic. Verr.
ii. 5, 12).
2 Jos. B. J. v. 4, §4: itavroi Xoyov xpEiddaov;33" id., ovB' ipprjvEvdai
Svvardv d^iaoi rd fiadiXsia.™1
3 See Jos. B. J. ii. 14, § 8 ; 15, § 5, from which it appears that Florus usually
occupied this palace. For the Csesareum and the Agrippeum, see id. i. 21, § 1,
Svo rovi psyidrovi xai itspixaXXsdrdrovi oixovi oii ovSi vadi ity
dvvexpivero ;m id. v. 4, § 4, dSiijyrjroi -f) itoixiXia raov XiBaov riv.m
Keim [Eine stolze Residenz fiir einen riimischen Ritter] has partly reproduced the
description of Josephus, III. ii. 2, 361.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 615
a threefold effort on his part, made with ever-increasing energy and
ever-deepening agitation, to baffle the accusers and to set the victim
free.1 1. It was probably about seven in the morning that, thinking to
overawe the Procurator by their numbers and their dignity, the impos
ing procession of the Sanhedrists and Priests, headed, no doubt, by
Caiaphas himself, conducted Jesus, with a cord round His neck," from
their Hall of Meeting over the lofty bridge which spanned the Yalley
of the Tyropoeon, in presence of all the city, with the bound hands of
a sentenced criminal, a spectacle to angels and to men.
Disturbed at this early hour, and probably prepared for some
Paschal disturbance more serious than usual, Pilate entered the Hall
of Judgment, whither Jesus had been led, in company (as seems clear)
with a certain number of His accusers and of those most deeply inter
ested in His case.3 But the great Jewish hierarchs, shrinking from
ceremonial pollution, though not from moral guilt — afraid of leaven,
though not afraid of innocent blood — refused to enter the Gentile's
hall, lest they should be polluted, and should consequently be unable
that night to eat the Passover. In no good humor, but in haughty
and half-necessary condescension to what he would regard as the des
picable superstitions of an inferior race, Pilate goes out to them under
the burning early sunlight of an Eastern spring. One haughty glance
takes in the pompous assemblage of priestly notables, and the turbu
lent mob of this singular people, equally distasteful to him as a Roman
and as a ruler ; and observing in that one glance the fierce passions
of the accusers, as he had already noted the meek ineffable grandeur
of their victim, his question is sternly brief : " What accusation bring
ye against this man ? " The question took them by surprise, and
showed them that they must be prepared for an unconcealed antago
nism to all their purposes. Pilate evidently intended a judicial inquiry ;
1 German criticism has, without any sufficient grounds, set aside as unhistorical
much of St. John's narrative of this trial; but although it is not mentioned either
by Josephus or by Philo, it agrees in the very minutest particulars with every
thing which we could expect from the accounts which they give us, both of Pilate's
own character and antecedents, and of the relations in which he stood to the
Emperor and to the Jews.
2 Sijdavrsi (Matt, xxvii. 2; Mark xv. 1). In sign of condemnation: such at
least is the early tradition, and St. Basil derives from this circumstance the use
of the stole (Jer. Taylor, III. xv.) .
3 Being only a procurator, Pilate had no quaestor, and therefore was obliged to
try all causes himself. In this instance, he very properly refused to assume the
responsibility of the execution without sharing in the trial. He did not choose to
degrade himself into a mere tool of Jewish superstition.

61 (J THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
they had expected only a license to kill, and to kill, not by a Jewish
method of execution, but by one which they regarded as more horrible
and accursed.1 " If He were not a malefactor," is their indefinite and
surly answer, " we would not have delivered Him up unto thee."
But Pilate's Roman knowledge of law, his Roman instinct of justice,
his Roman contempt for their murderous fanaticism, made him not
choose to act upon a charge so entirely vague, nor give the sanction
of his tribunal to their dark disorderly decrees. He would not deign
to be an executioner where he had not been a judge. " Yery well,"
he answered, with a superb contempt, " take ye Him and judge Him
according to your law." But now they are forced to the humiliating
confession that, having been deprived of the jus gladii, they cannot
inflict the death which alone will satisfy them ; for indeed it stood
written in the eternal councils that Christ was to die, not by Jewish
stoning or strangulation, but by that Roman form of execution which
inspired the Jews with a nameless horror, even by crucifixion ; " that
He was to reign from His cross — to die by that most fearfully
significant and typical of deaths — public, slow, conscious, accursed,
agonizing — worse even than burning — the worst type of all possi
ble deaths, and the worst result of that curse which He was to remove
for ever. Dropping, therefore, for the present the charge of blas
phemy, which did not suit their purpose,3 they burst into a storm of
invectives against Him, in which are discernible the triple accusations,
that He perverted the nation, that He forbade to give tribute, that
He called himself a king. All three charges were flagrantly false,
' Deut. xxi. 22, 23. Hence the name of hatred ilpnn, " the Hung," applied to
Christ in the Talmud ; and Christians are called " servants of the Hung " (ipDH
'"DI V)- Their reasons for desiring His crucifixion may have been manifold, besides
the obvious motives of hatred and revenge. (1.) It would involve the name and
memory of Jesus in deeper discredit. (2.) It would render the Roman authorities
accomplices in the responsibility of the murder. (3.) It would greatly diminish
any possible chance of a popular 'emeute.
2 Deut. xxi. 23; Numb. xxv. 4; 2 Sam. xxi, 6; Jos. B. J. vii. 6, § 4, ovn
dvadxerdv sivai rd itdBoi Xiyovrsi?^ Some obscurity hangs over the ques
tion as to when and how the Jews had lostvthe power of inflicting capita] punish
ment (John xviii. 31). The Talmud seems to imply (Lightfoot, Hor. Hebr. in loc)
that they had lost it by voluntarily abandoning the use of the Lishcat haggazzith,
on account of the number of murderers whom they were forced to condemn. But
this, in the usual loose Jewish way, is fixed " forty years before the destruction
of the Temple " (Aboda Zara, f . 8, 2 ; Buxtorf, Lex. Talm., p. 513). Others suppose
that it was still permitted to them — or at any rate its use connived at — in eccle
siastical (Acts vii. 57; Jos. Antt. xx. 9, § 1) but not in civil cases. They had.
legally, only the cognitio causae.3*6
3 Cf. Acts, xviii. 14.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 617
and the third all the more so because it included a grain of truth.
But since they had not confronted Jesus with any proofs or witnesses,
Pilate — in whose whole bearing and language is manifest the disgust
embittered by fear with which the Jews inspired him — deigns to
notice the third charge alone, and proceeds to discover whether the
confession of the prisoner — always held desirable by Roman insti
tutions — would enable him to take any cognizance of it. Leaving
the impatient Sanhedrin and the raging crowd, he retired into the
Judgment Hall. St. John alone preserves for us the memorable
scene. Jesus, though not "in soft clothing," though not a denizen
of kings' houses, had been led up the noble flight of stairs, over the
floors of agate and lazuli, under the gilded roofs, ceiled with cedar
and painted with vermilion, which adorned but one abandoned palace
of a great king of the Jews. There, amid those voluptuous splen
dors, Pilate — already interested, already feeling in this prisoner
before him some nobleness which touched his Roman nature —
asked Him in pitying wonder, " Art thou the King of the Jews ? "
— thou poor, worn, tear-stained outcast in this hour of thy bitter
need ' — oh„pale, lonely, friendless, wasted man, in thy poor peasant
garments, with thy tied hands, and the foul traces of the insults of
thine enemies on thy face, and on thy robes — thou, so unlike the
fierce magnificent Herod, whom this multitude which thirsts for thy
blood acknowledged as their sovereign — art thou the King of the
Jews ? There is a royalty which Pilate, and men like Pilate, cannot
understand — a royalty of holiness, a supremacy of self-sacrifice. To
say " No " would have been to belie the truth ; to say " Yes " would
have been to mislead the questioner. " Sayest thou this of thyself ? "
He answered with gentle dignity, " or did others tell it thee of me ? " "
" Am I a Jew ? " is the disdainful answer. " Thy own nation and
the chief priests delivered thee unto me. What hast thou done ? "
Done? — works of wonder, and mercy, and power, and innocence,
and these alone. But Jesus reverts to the first question, now that
He has prepared Pilate to understand the answer : " Yes, He is a
king ; but not of this world ; not from hence ; not one for whom
His servants would fight." " Thou art a king, then ? " said Pilate
to Him in astonishment. Yes ! but a king not in this region of f al-
sities and shadows, but one born to bear witness unto the truth, and
1 See J. Baldwin Brown, Misread Passages of Scripture, p. 2.
2 This shows that Jesus, who seems to have been led immediately inside the
walls of the Prsetorium, had not heard the charges laid against Him before the
Procurator.
; 78

618 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
one whom all who were of the truth should hear. " Truth," said
Pilate impatiently, " what is truth ? " What had he — a busy, prac
tical Roman governor — to do with such dim abstractions? what
bearing had they on the question of life and death ? what unpractical
hallucination, what fairyland of dreaming phantasy was this ? Yet,
though he contemptuously put the discussion aside, he was touched
and moved. A judicial mind, a forensic training, familiarity with
human nature which had given him some insight into the characters
of men, showed him that Jesus was not only wholly innocent, but
infinitely nobler and better than His raving sanctimonious accusers.
He wholly set aside the floating idea of an unearthly royalty ; he saw
in the prisoner before his tribunal an innocent and high-souled
dreamer, nothing more. And so, leaving Jesus there, he went out
again to the Jews, and pronounced his first emphatic and unhesitat
ing acquittal : " I find in Him no fault at all."
2. But this public decided acquittal only kindled the fury of His
enemies into yet fiercer flame. After all that they had hazarded,
after all that they had inflicted, after the sleepless night of their plots,
adjurations, insults, was their purpose to be foiled after all by the
intervention of the very Gentiles on whom they had relied for its
bitter consummation? Should this victim whom they had thus
clutched in their deadly grasp, be rescued from High Priests and
rulers by the contempt or the pity of an insolent heathen ? It was
too intolerable! Their voices rose in wilder tumult. "He was a
mssith ; ' He had upset the people with His teaching through the
length and breadth of the land, beginning from Galilee, even as far
as here."
Amid these confused and passionate exclamations the practiced ear
of Pilate caught the name of " Galilee," and he understood that Gal
ilee had been the chief scene of the ministry of Jesus." Eager for
a chance of dismissing a business of which he was best pleased to be
free, he proposed, by a master-stroke of astute poficy, to get rid of
an embarrassing prisoner, to save himself from a disagreeable decision,
and to do an unexpected complaisance to the unfriendly Galilean
tetrarch, who, as usual, had come to Jerusalem — nominally to keep
the Passover, really to please his subjects, and to enjoy the sensations
and festivities offered at that season by the densely-crowded capital.
Accordingly, Pilate, secretly glad to wash his hands of a detestable
1 In Masseketh Sandedrin, vii. 10, a mesith is defined as an unauthorized person
USiaorrii) who leads others astray. (BV^inn ]-|K JVDDn DVID PIT JVDDnO
¦ Luke xxiii. 6.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 619
responsibility, sent Jesus to1 Herod Antipas, who was probably
occupying the old Asmonsean palace, which had been the royal resi
dence at Jerusalem until it had been surpassed by the more splendid
one which the prodigal tyrant, his father, had built." And so, through
the thronged and narrow streets, amid the jeering, raging multitudes,
the weary Sufferer was dragged once more.
We have caught glimpses of this Herod Antipas before, and I do
not know that all History, in its gallery of portraits, contains a much
more despicable figure than this wretched, dissolute Idumaean Saddu
cee — this petty princeling drowned in debauchery and blood. To
him was addressed the sole purely contemptuous expression that Jesus
is ever recorded to have used.3 Superstition and incredulity usually
go together ; avowed atheists have yet believed in augury, and men
who do not believe in God will believe in ghosts.4 Antipas was
rejoiced beyond all things to see Jesus. He had long been wanting
to see Him because of the rumors he had heard ; and this murderer of
the prophets hoped that Jesus would, in compliment to royalty, amuse
by some miracle his gaping curiosity. He harangued and questioned
Him in many words, but gained not so much as one syllable in reply.
Our Lord confronted all his ribald questions with the majesty of
silence. To such a man, who even changed scorn into a virtue,
speech would clearly have been a profanation. Then all the savage
vulgarity of the man came out through the thin veneer of a super
ficial cultivation. For the second time Jesus is derided — derided
this time as Priest and Prophet. Herod and his corrupt hybrid myr
midons "set Him at nought" — treated Him with the insolence of a
¦Luke xxiii. 7, dveitepipsv, " remisit ;" "propriam Romani juris vocem
usurpavit " 396 (Grotius) : cf. Acts xxv. 21. Mutual jealousies, and tendencies to
interfere with each other's authority, are quite sufficient to account for the pre
vious ill-will of Pilate and Herod. Moreover, in all disputes it had been the
obvious policy of Antipas to side with the Jews. Renan aptly compares the rela
tions of the Herods to the Procurator with that of the Hindoo Rajahs to the Vice
roy of India under the English dominion.
2 We find the old Asmonsean palace occupied long afterwards by Agrippa II.
(Jos. B. J. ii. 16, § 3 ; Antt. xx. 8, § 11). Sepp, in his fanciful way, points out
that Jesus had thus been thrown into connection with a palace of David (at Beth
lehem) of the Asmonseans, and of Herod.
3 Luke xiii. 32, " This fox," r# dXaiitExi ravrv (v. supr., p. 429).
4 Philippe d'Orleans (Egalit6), a professed atheist, when in prison, tried to divine
his fate by the grounds in a coffee-cup ! This atheistic age swarmed with Chal-
daei, mathematici, magicians, sorcerers, charlatans, impostQrs of every class. " Le
monde gtait affol^ de miracles, jamais on ne fut si occupe de presages. Le Dieu
Pfere paraissait avoir voile" sa face ; des larves impurs, des monstres sortis d'un
limon mysteneux, semblaient errer dans l'air " 397 (Renan, L'Antechr., p. 32S).

620 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
studied contempt. Mocking His innocence and His misery in a
festal and shining robe,1 the empty and wicked prince sent Him back
to the Procurator, to whom he now became half-reconciled after a
long-standing enmity. But he contented himself with these cruel
insults. He resigned to the forum apprehensionis all further
responsibility as to the issue of the trial. Though the Chief Priests
and Scribes stood about his throne unanimously instigating him to a
fresh and more heinous act of murder by their intense accusations,"
he practically showed that he thought their accusations frivolous, by
treating them as a jest. It was the fifth trial of Jesus ; it was His
second public distinct acquittal.
3. And now, as He stood once more before the perplexed and
wavering Governor, began the sixth, the last, the most agitating and
agonizing phase of this terrible inquisition. Now was the thne for
Pilate to have acted on a clear and right conviction, and saved him
self for ever from the guilt of innocent blood. He came out once
more, and seating himself on a stately bema — perhaps the golden
throne of Archelaus, which was placed on the elevated pavement of
many-colored marble 3 ¦ — summoned the Priests, the Sanhedrists, and
the people before him, and seriously told them that they' had brought
Jesus to his tribunal as a leader of sedition and turbulence ; that after
full and fair inquiry he, their Roman Governor, had found their
prisoner absolutely guiltless of these charges ; that He had then sent
Him to Herod, their native king, and that he also had come to the
conclusion that Jesus had committed no crime which deserved the
punishment of death. And now came the golden opportunity for
him to vindicate the grandeur of his country's imperial justice, and,
as he had pronounced Him absolutely innocent, to set Him absolutely
free. But exactly at that point he wavered and temporized. The
dread of another insurrection haimted him like a nightmare. He
was willing to go half way to please these dangerous sectaries. To
justify them, as it were, in their accusation, he would chastise Jesus —
scourge Him publicly, as though to render His pretensions ridicu
lous — disgrace and ruin Him — "make Him seem vile in their
eyes " 4 — and then set Him free. And this notion of setting Him
1 Luke xxiii. 11, idBrjra Xapitpdv, probably "white," as a festive color; but
the notion of his being a " candidate " for the kingdom, is quite alien from the

2 Evrdvmi. Cf. Acts, xviii. 28.
3 John xix. 13, " Gabb'atha." The Roman governors and generals attached great
importance to these tessellated pavements on which their tribunals were placed
(Suet. Jul. Caes. 46).
4 Deut. xxv. 3. pddri^iv aixC^EdBai 398 (Jos. B. J. vii. 6, § 4).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 621
free suggested to him another resource of tortuous policy. Both he
and the people almost simultaneously bethought themselves that it
had always been a Paschal boon to liberate at the feast some con
demned prisoner. He offered, therefore, to make the acquittal of
Jesus an act not of imperious justice, but of artificial grace.
In making this suggestion — in thus flagrantly tampering with
his innate sense of right, and resigning against his will the best pre
rogative of his authority — he was already acting in spite of a warn
ing which he had received. That first warning consisted in the deep
misgiving, the powerful presentiment, which overcame him as he
looked on his bowed and silent prisoner. But, as though to strengthen
him in his resolve to prevent an absolute failure of all justice, he now
received a second solemn warning — and one which to an ordinary
Roman, and a Roman who remembered Cassar's murder and Cal-
purnia's dream, might well have seemed divinely sinister. His own
wife — Claudia Procula ' — ventured to send him a public message,
even as he sat there on his tribunal, that, in the morning hours,
when dreams are true," she had had a troubled and painful dream
about .that Just Man ; and, bolder than her husband,, she bade him
beware how he molested Him.
Gladly, most gladly, would Pilate have yielded to his own presenti
ments — have gratified his pity and his justice — have obeyed the
prohibition conveyed by this mysterious omen. Gladly even would
he have yielded to the worse and baser instinct of asserting his power,
and thwarting these envious and hated fanatics, whom he knew to be
ravening for innocent blood. That they — to many of whom sedi
tion was as the breath of life — should be sincere in charging Jesus
with sedition was, as he well knew, absurd. Their utterly trans
parent hypocrisy in this matter only added to his undisguised con
tempt. If he could have dared to show his real instincts, he would
have driven them from his tribunal with all the haughty insoucianee
of a Gallio. But Pilate was guilty, and guilt is cowardice, and
cowardice is weakness. His own past cruelties, recoiling in kind on
his own head, forced him now to crush the impulse of pity, and

1 Her name is given in the gospel of Nicodemus, which says she was a proselyte.
On the possibility of a wife's presence in her husband's province, in spite of the
old Leges Oppiae, see Tac. Ann. iii. 33, 34; iv. 20. For similar instances of
dreams, see Otho, Lex. Rabb., p. 3165 Winer, Realwbrt., s. v. " Traume."
2 Matt, xxvii. 19, dr/pspov. " Post mediam noctem visus quum somnia vera " 399
CHor. Sat. i. 10, 31). " Sub auroram — tempore quo cerni somnia vera solent" m
(Ov. Her. xix. 195). Perhaps she had been awakened that morning by the noise
of the crowd.

622 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
to add to his many cruelties another more heinous still.1 He
knew that serious complaints hung over his head. Those Samaritans
whom he had insulted and oppressed — those Jews whom he had
stabbed promiscuously in the crowd by the hands of his disguised and
secret emissaries — those Galilseans whose blood he had mingled with
their sacrifices — was not their blood crying for vengeance ? Was
not an embassy of complaint against him imminent even now?
Would it not be dangerously precipitated if, in so dubious a matter
as a charge of claiming a kingdom, he raised a tumult among a peo
ple in whose case it was the best interest of the Romans that they
should hug their chains ? Dare he stand the chance of stirring up a
new and apparently terrible rebellion rather than condescend to a
simple concession, which was rapidly assuming the aspect of a politic,
and even necessary, compromise ?
His tortuous policy recoiled on his own head, and rendered impos
sible his own wishes. The Nemesis of his past wrong-doing was
that he could no longer do right. Hounded on " by the Priests and
Sanhedrists, the people impetuously claimed the Paschal boon of
which he had .reminded them ; but in doing so they unmasked still
more decidedly the sinister nature of their hatred against their
Redeemer. For while they were professing to rage against the
asserted seditiousness of One who was wholly obedient and peaceful,
they shouted for the liberation of a man whose notorious sedition
had been also stained by brigandage and murder. Loathing the
innocent, they loved the guilty, and claimed the Procurator's grace
j>n behalf, not of Jesus of Nazareth, but of a man who, in the fear
ful irony of circumstance, was also called Jesus — Jesus Bar- Abbas3
' We see the same notions very strikingly at work in his former dispute with
the Jews about the shields — " He was afraid that, if they should send an embassy,
they might discuss the many mal-administratlons of his government, his extortions,
his unjust decrees, his inhuman punishments. This reduced him to the utmost
perplexity." (Philo, Leg. ad Caium, p. 38.) (rdi vfipeii, rdi dpitaydi, rdi
aixiai, rdi iitr/pEiai, rovi dxpirovi xai iitaXXijXovi cpovovi, rrjv dvr/W-
rov xai dpyaXsaordrifv aop6rijra)tn
2 Mark xv. 11, dvidsidav rov Xaov.im History, down to this day, has given
us numberless instances of the utter fickleness of crowds ; but it is clear that
throughout these scenes the fury and obstinacy of the people are not spontaneous.
3 Bar- Abbas, son of a (distinguished) father ; perhaps Bar-Rabbaii, son of a
Rabbi. The reading Jesus Bar-Abbas is as old as Origen, and is far from improb
able, although Matt, xxvii. 20 tells a little against it. If, however, Origen (as
seems to be the case) only found this reading in verse 17, the probability of its
genuineness is weakened. The ingenious combinations of Ewald, that the San
hedrists desired his release, as belonging by family to their order, and the people
because he had been imprisoned in the Corban riot (Jos. Antt., ubi supr), are
highly uncertain.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 623
—who not only was what they falsely said of Christ, a leader of
sedition, but also a robber and a murderer. It was fitting that they,
who had preferred an abject Sadducee to their true priest, and an
incestuous Idumgean to their Lord and King, should deliberately
prefer a murderer to their Messiah.
It may be that Bar- Abbas -had been brought forth, and that thus
Jesus the scowling murderer and Jesus the innocent Redeemer stood
together on that high tribunal side by side.1 The people, persuaded
by their priests, clamored for the liberation of the rebel and the
robber. To him every hand was pointed ; for him every voice was
raised. For the Holy, the Harmless, the Undefiled — for Him whom
a thousand Hosannas had greeted but five days before — no word of
pity or of pleading found an utterance. "He was despised and
rejected of men."
Deliberately putting the question to them, Pilate heard with scorn
ful indignation their deliberate choice ; and then, venting his bitter
disdain and anger in taunts, which did but irritate them more, with
out serving any good purpose, " What, then," he scornfully asked
them, "do ye wish me to do with the King of the Jews?" Then
first broke out the mad scream, " Crucify ! crucify Him ! " In vain,
again and again, in the pauses of the tumult, Pilate insisted, obsti
nately indeed, but with more and more feebleness of purpose — for
none but a man more innocent than Pilate, even if he were a Roman
governor, could have listened without quailing to the frantic ravings
of an Oriental mob ' — " Why, what evil hath He done ? " "I found
no cause of death in Him." " I will chastise Him and let Him go."
Such half -willed opposition was wholly unavailing. It only betrayed
to the Jews the inward fears of their Procurator,3 and practically
made them masters of the situation. Again and again, with wilder
and wilder vehemence, they rent the -air with those hideous yells —
" Aipe rovrov. ' ' Anokvoov rj^dv Bapafifiav. 2ravpooaov}
1 Matt, xxvii. 21.
2 See Isa. v. 7. These Jewish mobs could, as we see from Josephus.be very
abusive. " They came about his (Pilate's) tribunal, and made a clamor at it "
(B. J. ii. 9, § 4). " Many myriads of the people got together, and made a clamor
against him, and insisted that he should leave off that design. Some of them also
used reproaches, and abused the man (Pilate), as crowds of such people usually do.
. . . So he bade the Jews go away, but they, boldly casting reproaches upon
him," &c. (Antt. xviii. 3, § 2).
3 Thus, in the affair of the gilt votive shields, the Jewish leaders were con
firmed in their purpose, by perceiving that Pilate's mind was wavering (Philo, ubi
supr). This, no doubt, is the kind of dvavSpia with which he is charged in
App. Constt. v. 14.

624 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
aravpoaGov — " Away with this man." " Loose unto us Bar-
Abbas." " Crucify ! crucify ! "
For a moment Pilate seemed utterly to yield to the storm. He
let Bar- Abbas free ; he delivered Jesus over to be scourged. The
word used for the scourging (cppayeXXooffai ') implies that it was
done, not with rods (virgae), for Pilate had no lictors, but with what
Horace calls the " horribile nagellum," of which the Russian knout
is the only modern representative. This scourging was the ordinary
preliminary to crucifixion and other forms of capital punishment."
It was a punishment so truly horrible, that the mind revolts at it ;
and it has long been abolished by that compassion of mankind which
has been so greatly intensified, and in some degree even created, by
the gradual comprehension of Christian truth. The unhappy sufferer
was publicly stripped, was tied by the hands in a bent position to a
pillar, and then, on the tense quivering nerves of the naked baek, the
blows were inflicted with leathern thongs, weighted with jagged
edges of bone and lead ; sometimes even the blows fell by accident
— sometimes, with terrible barbarity, were purposely struck — on the
face and eyes.3 It was a punishment so hideous that, under its lacerat
ing agony, the victim generally fainted, often died; still more fre
quently a man was sent away to perish under the mortification and
nervous exhaustion which ensued. And this awful cruelty, on which
we dare not. dwell — this cruelty which makes the heart shudder and
grow cold — was followed immediately by the third and bitterest
derision — the derision of Christ as King.
In civilized nations all is done that can be done to spare every
needless suffering to a man condemned to death ; but among the
Romans insult and derision were the customary preliminaries to the

1 Matt, xxvii. 26. St Luke, with a deep touch of pathos, merely says that Pilate
"gave up Jesus to their will," and then, as though he wished to drop a veil on all
that followed, he does not even tell us that they led Him away, but adds, "And as
they led Him away " (Luke xxiii. 25, 26).
2 Matt, xxvii. 26. Lora (pddrig) not the paftSoi (2 Cor. xi. 24, 25). It was illegal
for Roman citizens, though sometimes inflicted, especially in the provinces (Acts
xxii. 26 ; cf. Tac. Hist. iv. 27 ; Cic. Verr. v. 6, 62 ; Jos. B. J. ii. 14, § 9). We are
not told the number of the blows usually inflicted ; they depended on the greater
or less brutality of the presiding authority. The forty mentioned in the Acts of
Pilate are clearly a reminiscence of Jewish customs. In John xix. 1, the word is
ipadriyaodev — " ego in flagella paratus sum"402t (Vulg. Psa. xxxvii. 18) ; Isa.
1. 6. 3 See Cicero, Verr. v. 54; Hor. Sat. i. 3; pddri$ ddrpayaXGorr)in (Athen. 153,
A ; Luc. Asin. 38) ; " flagrum pecuinis ossibus catenatum " 404 (Apul. Met. 8), " I,
Motor, colliga manus " 405 (Li v. i. 26) ; " ad palum delegatus, lacerato virgis tergo " 406
(id. xxvii. 18) ; " verberati crucibus affixi"401 (id. xxxiii. 36).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 625
last agony. The " et pereuntibus addita ludibria " 4" f of Tacitus '
might stand for their general practice. Such a custom furnished a
specimen of that worst and lowest form of human wickedness which
delights to inflict pain, which feels an inhuman pleasure in gloating
over the agonies of another, even when he has done no wrong. The
mere spectacle of agony is agreeable to the degraded soul. The low
vile soldiery of the Prsetorium — not Romans, who might have had
more sense of the inborn dignity of the silent sufferer, but mostly
the mere mercenary scum and dregs of the provinces — led Him
into their barrack-room, and there mocked, in their savage hatred,
the King whom they had tortured. It added keenness to their enjoy
ment to have in their power One who was of Jewish birth, of inno
cent life, of noblest bearing." The opportunity broke so agreeably
the coarse monotony of their life, that they summoned all of the
cohort who were disengaged to witness their brutal sport. In sight
of these hardened ruffians they went through the whole heartless
ceremony of a mock coronation, a mock investiture, a mock homage.
Around the brows of Jesus, in wanton mimicry of the Emperor's
laurel, they twisted a green wreath of thorny leaves ; 3 in His tied
and trembling hands they placed a reed for sceptre ; from His torn
and bleeding shoulders they stripped the white robe with which
Herod had mocked Him — which must now have been all soaked
with blood — and flung on Him an old scarlet paludament — some
cast-off war cloak, with its purple laticlave, from the Praetorian
wardrobe.4 This, with feigned solemnity, they buckled over His
1 Ann. xv. 44.
a Josephus gives us several instances of the insane wantonness with which the
soldiers delighted to insult the detested race among whom they were stationed
(B. J. ii. 12, § 1 ; v. 11, § 1 ; Antt. xix. 9, § 1).
3 It cannot be known of what plant this acanthine crown was formed. The
nubk (zizyphus lotus) struck me, as it has struck all travellers in Palestine, as being
most suitable both for mockery and pain, since its leaves are bright and its thorns
singularly strong ; but though the nubk is very common on the shores of Galilee,
I saw none of it near Jerusalem. There may, however, have been some of it in
the garden of Herod's palace, and the soldiers would give themselves no sort of
trouble, but merely take the first plant that came to hand.
4 Such presents were sent to allied kings (Liv. xxx. 17 ; Tac. Ann. xii. 56).
(Keim.) Cf. 1 Mace. xiv. 44. — St. Matthew calls it " scarlet," St. Mark " purple."
The ancients discriminated colors very loosely ; or rather, very differently from
what we do. Our nomenclature dwells chiefly on differences of huei and their
implicit analysis was of another kind. (See some excellent remarks in Mr. Glad
stone's Inventus Mundi, p. 540; Ruskin, Modern Painters, iii. 225.) — For instance
of similar mockery see Philo, in Flacc. 980, where Herod Agrippa II. is insulted
in the person of an idiot, at Alexandria. Shakespeare's pathetic scene of the
insults heaped upon Richard II. will recur to every English reader.
79

626 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
right shoulder^ with its glittering fibula ; and then — each with his
derisive homage of bended knee — each with his infamous spitting -
— each with the blow over the head from the reed-sceptre, which His
bound hands could not hold — they kept passing before Him with
their mock salutation of " Hail, King of the Jews ! " ]
Even now, even yet, Pilate wished, hoped, even strove to save
Him. He might represent this frightful scourging, not as the pre
liminary to crucifixion, but as an inquiry by torture, which had failed
to elicit any further confession. And as Jesus came forth — as He
stood beside him with that martyr-form on the beautiful mosaic of
the tribunal — the spots of blood upon His green wreath of torture,
the mark of blows and spitting on His countenance, the weariness of
His deathf ul agony upon the sleepless eyes, the sagum of faded scar
let, darkened by the weals of His lacerated back, and dropping, it
may be, its stains of crimson upon the tesselated floor — even then,
even so, in that hour of His extremest humiliation — yet, as He
stood in the grandeur of His holy calm on that lofty tribunal above
the yelling crowd, there shone all over Him so Godlike a pre-emi
nence, so divine a nobleness, that Pilate broke forth with that invol
untary exclamation which has thrilled with emotion so many million
hearts —
" Behold the Man ! "
But his appeal only woke a fierce outbreak of the scream, " Cru
cify ! crucify ! " The mere sight of Him, even in this His' unspeaka
ble shame and sorrow, seemed to add fresh fuel to their hate. In vain
the heathen soldier appeals for humanity to the Jewish priest; no
heart throbbed with responsive pity ; no voice of compassion broke
that monotonous yell of " Crucify!" — the howling refrain of their
wild "liturgy of death." The Roman who had shed blood fike
water, on the field of battle, in open massacre, in secret assassination,
might well be supposed to have an icy and a stony heart ; but yet
icier and stonier was the heart of those scrupulous hypocrites and
worldly priests. " Take ye Him, and crucify Him," said Pilate, in
utter disgust, " for I find no fault in Him." What an admission
from a Roman judge ! " So far as I can see, He is wholly innocent ;
yet if you must crucify Him, take Him and crucify. I cannot
approve of, but I will readily connive at, your violation of the law."
But even this wretched guilty subterfuge is not permitted him.
Satan will have from his servants the full tale of their crimes, and
the sign-manual of their own willing assent at last. What the Jews
1 John xix. 3.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 627
want — what the Jews will have — is not tacit connivance, but abso
lute sanction. They see their power. They see that this blood
stained Governor dares not hold out against them ; they know that
the Roman statecraft is tolerant of concessions to local superstition.
Boldly, therefore, they fling to the winds all question of a political
offence, and with all their hypocritical pretences calcined by the heat
of their passion, they shout, " We have a law, and by our law He
ought to die, because He made Himself a Son of God." J
A Son of God ! The notion was far less strange and repulsive to
a heathen than to a Jew ; and this word, unheard before, startled
Pilate with the third omen which made him tremble at the crime
into which he was being dragged by guilt and fear. Once more,
leaving the yelling multitude without, he takes Jesus with him into
the quiet Judgment Hall, and — "jam pro sud conscientid Christir
anus," 409 as Tertulfian so finely observes" — asks Him in awe-struck
accents, " Whence art thou? " Alas !^ it was too late to answer now.
Pilate was too deeply committed to his gross cruelty and injustice ;
for him Jesus had spoken enough already ; for the wild beasts who
raged without, He had no more to say. He did not answer. Then,
almost angrily, Pilate broke out with the exclamation, " Dost thou
not speak even to me?3 Dost Thou not know that I have power to
set thee free, and have power to crucify Thee ? " Power — how so ?
Was justice nothing, then ? truth nothing? innocence nothing? con
science nothing ? In the reality of things Pilate had no such power ;
even in the arbitrary sense of the tyrant it was an idle boast, for at
this very moment he was letting " I dare not " wait upon " I would."
And Jesus pitied the hopeless bewilderment of this man, whom guilt
had changed from a ruler into a slave. Not taunting, not confuting
him — nay, even extenuating rather than aggravating his sin — Jesus
gently answered, " Thou hast no power against Me whatever, had it
not been given thee from above ; therefore he that betrayed me to
thee hath the greater sin." Thou art indeed committing a great
crime — but Judas, Annas, Caiaphas, these priests and Jews, are
more to blame than thou. Thus, with infinite dignity, and yet with
1 " It is not Tiberius's pleasure that any of our laws should be violated." (Philo,
ubi supra, and Leg. ad Caium, 1014 ; and Tac. Ann. i. 9, and the boast of the
Monumentum Ancyranum, " modestiam apud socios." 40S) The inscription on the
ChU forbidding any Gentile on pain of death to pass beyond it, has recently
been discovered built into the wall of a mosque at Jerusalem, and is a relic of the
deepest interest.
2 Tert. Apol. 21.
• The position of the k/iol is emphatic (John xix. 10, 11).

g28 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
infinite tenderness, did Jesus judge His judge. In the very depths
of his inmost soul Pilate felt the truth of the words — silently
acknowledged the superiority of his bound and lacerated victim. All
that remained in him of human and of noble —
" Felt how awful Goodness is, and Virtue,
In her shape how lovely ; felt and mourned
His fall."
All of his soul that was not eaten away by pride and cruelty thrilled
back an unwonted echo to these few calm words of the Son of God.
Jesus had condemned his sin, and so far from being offended, the
judgment only deepened his awe of this mysterious Being, whose
utter impotence seemed grander and more awful than the loftiest
power. From that time Pilate was even yet more anxious to save
Him. With all his conscience in a tumult, for the third and last
time he mounted his tribunal, and made one more desperate effort.
He led Jesus forth, and looking at Him, as He stood silent and in
agony, but calm, on that shining Gabbatha, above the brutal agita
tions of the multitude, he said to those frantic rioters, as with a flash
of genuine conviction, " Behold your King ! " But to the Jews it
sounded like shameful scorn to call that beaten insulted Sufferer their
King. A darker stream mingled with the passions of the raging,
swaying crowd. Among the shouts of " Crucify," ominous threat-
enings began for the first time to be mingled. It was now nine
o'clock, and for nearly three hours ' had they been raging and wait-
1 As to the hour there iB a well-known discrepancy between John xix. 14, "And
it was .... about the sixth hour ; and he saith unto the Jews, Behold ybur
king ; " and Mark xv. 25, ' 'And it was the third hour, and they crucified Him . . "
There are various suggestions for removing this difficulty, but the only ones
worth mentioning are : (a) That in the word " crucified " St. Mark practically
includes all the preparations for the crucifixion, and therefore much of the trial :
this is untenable, because he uses the aorist, idravpao6av, not the imperfect.
(/?.) That one of the Evangelists is less accurate than the other. If no other solution
of the difficulty were simple and natural, I should feel no difficulty in admitting
this ; but as the general, and even the minute, accuracy of the Evangelists seems
to me demonstrable in innumerable cases, it is contrary to the commonest princi
ples of fairness to insist that there must be an inaccuracy when another explana
tion is possible, (y) That St. John adopts the Roman civil reckoning of hours. But
(i.), the Romans had no such reckoning (see pp. 131, 173; John iv. 6, 52; xi. 9);
and (ii.), this will make Pilate's exclamation to have been uttered at six in the
morning, in which case the trial could hardly have begun at daylight, as no time
is left for the intermediate incidents. (S.) That the I* (third) in John xix. 14, has
by a very early error been altered into i' (sixth). This is the reading of a few
MSS. and versions, and the' Chron. Alex, actually appeals for its genuineness not
only to rd dxpifirj dvriypa<pa,i10 but even to avrd rd iSioxeipov rov

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 629
ing there. The name of Csesar began to be heard in wrathful
murmurs. " Shall I crucify your King? " he had asked, venting the
rage and soreness of his heart in taunts on them. " We have no
king but Ccesar," answered the Sadducees and Priests, flinging to
the winds every national impulse and every Messianic hope.1 " If
thou let this man go," shouted the mob again and again, " thou art
not Caesar's friend. Every one who tries to make himself a king
speaketh against Cwsar." " And at that dark terrible name of Cassar,
Pilate trembled. It was a name to conjure with. It mastered him.
He thought of that terrible implement of tyranny, the accusation of
lacsa majestas,3 into which all other charges merged, which had made
confiscation and torture so common, and had caused blood to flow
like water in the streets of Rome. He thought of Tiberius, the aged
gloomy Emperor, then hiding at Caprese his ulcerous features, his
poisonous suspicions, his sick infamies, his desperate revenge. At
this very time he had been maddened into a yet more sanguinary and
misanthropic ferocity by the detected falsity and treason of, his only
friend and minister, Sejanus, and it was to Sejanus himself that
Pilate is said to have owed his position. There might be secret
¦delators in that very mob. Panic-stricken, the unjust judge, in
obedience to his own terrors, consciously betrayed the innocent victim
to the anguish of death. He who had so often prostituted justice,
was now unable to achieve the one act of justice which he desired.
He who had so often murdered pity, was now forbidden to taste the
J | sweetness of a pity for which he longed. He who had so often
abused authority, was now rendered impotent to exercise it, for once,
on the side of right. Truly for him, sin had become its own
Erinnys, and his pleasant vices had been converted into the instru
ment 'of his punishment ! Did the solemn and noble words of the
EvayyeXidrov.*" Unless great latitude be allowed to the word obi, this appears
to me a possible solution; it is, however, perfectly true that the ancients, as a rule,
were much looser than we are in their notes of time.
1 "The formal equivalent of Emperor is, of course, avroxpdraop, .... but the
provincials freely spoke of even the Julian Caesars as fiadiXsvi." (Freeman,
Essays, II. 316.)
8 Agrippa I. inscribed his coins with the title cpiXoxaidap. (Akerman, p. 30.)
3 Tac. Ann. iii. 38 (and passim). " Majestatis crimen omnium accusationum
;; | complementum erat." 412 " He knew very well," says Agrippa (ap. Philon. ubi
mipi:), " the inflexible severity of Tiberius ; " and this was some years earlier —
before the gloom of the Emperor's mind had become so deep and savage as was
now the case. An Apocryphal book (Revenges of the Saviour), with scarcely an
exaggeration, says that Tiberius- was " full of ulcers and fevers, and had nine
sorts of leprosy." (See Tac. Ann. iv. 57 ; Suet. Tib. 68 ; Julian, Caes., p. 309, &c.)

630 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Law of the Twelve Tables ' — " Yanae voces populi non sunt audi-
endae, quando aut noxium crimine absolvi, aut innocentem con-
demnari desiderant " 41" * — come across his memory with accents of
reproach as he delivered Bar- Abbas and condemned Jesus ? It may
have been so. At any rate his conscience did not leave him at ease.
At this, or some early period of the trial, he went through the solemn
farce of trying to absolve his conscience from the guilt. He sent
for water ; he washed his hands \>ei ore the multitude ! he said, " I
am innocent of the blood of this just person ; see ye to it." Did he
think thus to wash away his guilt ? He could wash his hands ;
could he wash his heart ? Might he not far more truly have said
with the murderous king in the splendid tragedy —
" Can all old Ocean's waters wash this blood
Clean from my hand 1 Nay, rather would this hand
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green — one red 1 "
It may be that, as he thus murdered his conscience, such a thought
flashed for one moment across his miserable mind, in the words of
his native poet —
" Ah nimium faciles qui tristia crimina caedis
Fluminea tolli posse putatis aqu& I " * 413
But if so, the thought was instantly drowned in a yell, the most
awful, the most hideous, the most memorable that History records.
"His blood be on us and on our children." Then Pilate finally
gave way. The fatal "Ibis ad crucem " 413 * was uttered with reluc
tant wrath. He delivered Him unto them, that He might be cruci
fied." And now mark, for one moment, the revenges of History. Has
not His blood been on them, and on their children? Has it not
fallen most of all on those most nearly concerned in that deep
tragedy ? Before the dread sacrifice was consummated, Judas died
in the horrors of a loathsome suicide. Caiaphas was deposed the
year following. Herod died in infamy and exile. Stripped of his
Procuratorship very shortly afterwards, on the very charges he had
tried by a wicked concession to avoid, Pilate, wearied out with mis
fortunes, died in suicide and banishment, leaving behind him an
1 Lex. xii. De Poenis.
* Ov. Fast. ii. 45. The custom, though Jewish (Deut. xxi. 6, 7, " all the elders
. . . shall wash their hands . . . and say, Our hands have not shed this
blood, neither have our eyes seen it "), was also Greek and Roman.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 631
execrated name.1 The house of Annas was destroyed a generation
later by an infuriated mob, and his son was dragged through the
streets, and scourged and beaten -to his place of murder. Some of
those who had shared in and witnessed the scenes of that day — and
thousands of their children — also shared in and witnessed the long
horrors of that siege of Jerusalem which stands unparalleled in his
tory for its unutterable fearfulness. " It seems," says Renan, " as
though the whole race had appointed a rendezvous for extermination."
They had shouted, " We have no king but Csesar ! " and they had
no king but Csesar ; and leaving only for a time the fantastic shadow
of a local and contemptible royalty, Csssar after Cassar outraged, and
tyrannized, and pillaged, and oppressed them, till at last they rose in
wild revolt against the Csesar whom they had claimed, and a Csesar
slaked in the blood of its best defenders the red ashes of their burnt
and desecrated Temple. They had forced the Romans to crucify
then- Christ, and though they regarded this punishment with especial
horror," they and their children were themselves crucified in myriads
by the Romans outside their own walls, till room was wanting and
wood failed, and the soldiers had to ransack a fertile inventiveness of
cruelty for fresh methods of inflicting this insulting form of death."
1 Euseb. Chron. p. 78, itoixiXaii itspiitEdaov dvpcpopaii.ni His banishment to
Vienna Allobrogum, his tomb, his connection with Mount Pilate, &c, are all uncer
tain traditions. The Povradosis Pilati, Mors Pilati, &c, are as spurious as his
" martyrdom," which is observed by the Abyssinian Church on June 25. But
Evang. Nicod. i. 13, which speaks of Pilate as " circumcised in heart," shows that
the early Christians were not insensible of his efforts to save Jesus. " Upon all
murderers," says Bishop Jeremy Taylor, " God hath not thrown a thunderbolt, nor
broken all sacrilegious persons upon the wheel of an inconstant and ebbing estate,
nor spoken to every oppressor from heaven in a voice of thunder, nor cut off all
rebels in the first attempts of insurrection ; but because He hath done so to some,
we are to look upon those judgments as divine accents and voices of God, threat
ening all the same crimes with the like events, and with the ruins of eternity."
(Life of Christ, III. xv.) — How much more true and reverent is this than the
despairing cynicism which says, " Gardons-nous d'une expression si nafvement
impie. II n'y a pas plus de vengeance dans Thistoire que dans la nature ; les rev
olutions ne sont pas plus justes que le volcan qui eclate ou l'avalanche qui roule." 41s
(Renan.) 2 See Jos. B. J. vii. 6, § 4.
3 Jos. B. J. v. 11, § 1, itpodrfXovv oi drpariaorai aXXov dXXap dxrfpari itpdi
xXsvrjv xai Sid rd itXijBoi x°opa re ivsXeiitEro roii dravpoii xai dravpoi
roii daopadiv. 4I6 " So that they who had nothing but ' crucify ' in their mouths
were therewith paid home in their own bodies" (Sir T. Browne, Vulg. Err. v. 21),
The common notion, that having bought Christ for thirty pieces of silver, they
were sold by thirties for one piece of silver, seems to be solely derived from a
mediaeval forgery called The Revenging of tlie Saviour. Still it is true that " the
blood of Jesus shed for the salvation of the world became to them a curse. , . .

632 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
They had given thirty pieces of silver for their Saviour's blood,
and they were themselves sold in thousands for yet smaller sums.
They had chosen Bar- Abbas in preference to their Messiah, and for
them there has been no Messiah more, while a murderer's dagger
swayed the last counsels of their dying nationality. They had accepted
the guilt of blood, and the last pages of their history were glued
together with the rivers of their blood, and that blood continued to be
shed in wanton cruelties from age to age. They who will, may see in
incidents like these the mere unmeaning chances of History ; but there
is in History nothing unmeaning to one who regards it as the Yoice
of God speaking among the destinies of men ; and whether a man
sees any significance or not in events like these, he must be blind
indeed who does not see that when the murder of Christ was con
summated, the axe was laid at the root of the barren tree of Jewish
nationality. Since that day Jerusalem and its environs, with their
" ever-extending miles of grave-stones and ever-lengthening pavement
of tombs and sepulchres," have become fittle more than one vast
cemetery — an Aceldama, a field of blood, a potter's field to bury
strangers in. Like the mark of Cain upon the forehead of their race,
the guilt of that blood has seemed to cling to them — as it ever must
until that same blood effaceth it. For, by God's mercy, that blood
was shed for them also who made it flow ; the voice which they
strove to quench in death was uplifted in its last prayer for pity on
His murderers. May that blood be efficacious ! may that prayer be
heard ! 1

So manna turns to worms, and the wine of angels to vinegar and lees, when it is
received into impure vessels or tasted by wanton palates, and the sun himself
produces rats and serpents when it reflects upon the slime of Nil us." (Jer. Taylor,
III. xv.)
1 It is in the deepest sincerity that I add these last words. Any one who traces
a spirit of vindictiveness in the last paragraph wholly misjudges the spirit in
which it is written. This book may perhaps fall into the hands of Jewish read
ers. They, of all others, if true to the deepest lessons of the faith in which they
have been trained, will acknowledge the hand of God in History. And the events
spoken of here are not imaginative ; they are indisputable facts. The Jew at
least will believe that in external consequences God visits the sins of the fathers
upon the children. Often and often in History have the crimes of the guilty
seemed to be visited even on their innocent posterity. The apparent injustice of
this is but on the surface. There is a fire that purifies, no less than a fire that
scathes; and who shall say that the very afflictions of Israel — afflictions, alas I
so largely caused by the sin of Christendom — may not have been meant for a
refining of the pure gold? God's judgments — it may be the very sternest and
most irremediable of them — come, many a time, in the giiise, not of affliction, but
of immense earthly prosperity and ease.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 633

CHAPTER LXI.
THE CRUCIFIXION.
" Dum crucis inimicos
Vocabis, et amicos,
0 Jesu, Fili Dei,
Sis, oro, memor mei." 411
Thomas of Celako, De Grace Domini.
"I, miles, expedi crucem " (" Go, soldier, get ready the cross").
In some such formula of terrible import Pilate must have given his
final order.1 It was now probably about nine o'clock, and the execu
tion followed immediately upon the judgment. The time required
for the necessary preparation would not be very long, and during this
brief pause the soldiers, whose duty it was to see that the sentence
was carried out, stripped Jesus of the scarlet war-cloak, now dyed
with the yet deeper stains of blood, and clad Him again in His own
garments." When the cross had been prepared they laid it — -or pos
sibly only one of the beams of it — upon His shoulders, and led Him
to the place of punishment. The nearness of the great feast, the
myriads who were present in Jerusalem, made it desirable to seize the
opportunity for striking terror into all Jewish malefactors. Two
were, therefore, selected for execution at the same time with Jesus —
two brigands and rebels of the lowest stamp. Their crosses were
laid upon them, a maniple of soldiers in full armor were marshalled
1 That Pilate sent some official account of the trial and crucifixion to Tiberius
would be d priori probable, and seems to be all but certain (Just. Mart. Apol. i.
76 ; Tert. Apol. 21 ; Euseb. Hist. Eccl. ii. 2 ; Lardner, vi. 606) ; but it is equally
certain that the existing Acta, Paradosis, Mors and Epistolae Pilati are spurious.
Tischendorf (De Evang. Apocr., Orig., p. 67) thinks that, though interpolated,
they may contain old materials, but I can find nothing of any interest or value in
them. 2 Some have supposed that a second scourging took place, the first being the
question by torture, the second the itpoaixidipdi. It seems clear, however, that
Pilate had meant the seourging to be this preliminary to crucifixion, though, at
the last moment, it suited him to let it pass as inquisitorial. Further, it is incon
ceivable that Jesus could have been capable of physically enduring two such fear
ful inflictions, either of which was often sufficient to cause convulsions and death,
It is better to regard the cppay eXXaodai of Matt, xxvii. 26 as retrospective.
80

634 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
under the command of their centurion, and, amid thousands of spec
tators, coldly inquisitive or furiously hostile, the procession started on
its way.
The cross was not, and could not have been, the massive and lofty
structure with which such myriads of pictures have made us familiar.
Crucifixion was among the Romans a very common punishment, and
it is clear that they would not waste any trouble in constructing the
instrument of shame and torture.1 It would undoubtedly be made
of the very commonest wood that came to hand, perhaps olive or
sycamore, and knocked together in the very rudest fashion. Still, to
support the body of a man, a cross would require to be of a certain
size and weight; and to one enfeebled by the horrible severity of
the previous scourging, the carrying of such a burden would be an
additional misery." But Jesus was enfeebled not only by this cruelty,
but by previous days of violent struggle and agitation, by an evening
of deep and overwhelming emotion, by a night of sleepless anxiety
and suffering, by the mental agony of the garden, by three trials and
three sentences of death before the Jews, by the long and exhausting
scenes in the Praetorium, by the examination before Herod, and by
the brutal and painful derisions which He had undergone, first at the
hands of the Sanhedrin and their servants, then from Herod's body
guard, and lastly from the Roman cohort. All these, superadded to
1 Of the various kinds of cross — the crux decussata (X), the crux ansata, &c, it
is certain that the cross on which Jesus was crucified was either the crux commissa
(T, St. Anthony's cross), or the crux immissa, the ordinary Roman cross (f). The
fact that the former was in the shape of the Greek capital tau has given ample
room for the allegorizing propensities of the Fathers. (Cf. Lucian, Jud. Vocal.
12 ; Gesenius s. v. 1fl, Ezek. ix. 4.) See abundant 0. T. instances of this in Just.
Mart. Dial. 89; Tert. Adv. Jud. 10, 11; Barnab. Ep. ix. ; Clem. Alex. Strom, vi.
See to Theophyl. on Matt. v. 18 ; Sepp. Leben Ohristi, vi. 115 ; Mysterium des
Kreuzes. — I have not alluded to the so-called " invention of the cross," for the
story is intrinsically absurd, and the Jews generally burnt their crosses (Otho,
Lex. Rab. s. v. " Supplicia "). What seems decisive in favor of the shape pre
served by the traditions of art for nearly 1,500 years is the expression of Matt.
xxvii. 37, that the title was put iitdvao rrji xscpaXiji avrov.41* I have col
lected all that seemed archseologically interesting on this subject in the articles
" Cross " and " Crucifixion " in Smith's Diet, of the Bible.
2 Cf. Gen. xxii. 6 (Isa. ix. 6). It is not certain whether the condemned carried
their entire cross or only a part of it — the patibulum, or transom, as distinguished
from the crux (cf. Plaut./r. ap. Non. 3, 183, "Patibulum ferat per urbem deinde
iifBgatur cruci"m). If the entire cross was carried, it is probable that the two
beams were not (as in pictures) nailed to each other.but simply fastened together
by a rope, and carried like a V (furca). If, as tradition says (Acts of Pilate, B. 10),
the hands were tied, the difficulties of supporting the burden would be further
enhanced.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 635
the sickening lacerations of the scourging, had utterly broken down
His physical strength. His tottering footsteps, if not His actual falls
under that fearful load, made it evident that He lacked the physical
strength to carry it from the Prsetorium to Golgotha. Even if
they did not pity His feebleness, the Roman soldiers would nat
urally object to the consequent hindrance and delay. But they
found an easy method to solve the difficulty. They had not pro
ceeded farther than the city gate,1 when they met a man coming
from the country, who was known to the early Christians as " Simon
of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus ; " and perhaps, on
some hint from the accompanying Jews that Simon sympathized with
the teaching of the Sufferer, they impressed him without the least
scruple into their odious service."
The miserable procession resumed its course, and though the
apocryphal traditions of the Romish Church narrate many incidents
of the Via Dolorosa, only one such incident is recorded in the Gos
pel history.3 St. Luke tells us that among the vast multitude of
people who followed Jesus were many women. From the men in
that moving crowd He does not appear to have received one word of
pity or of sympathy. Some there must surely have been who had
seen His miracles, who had heard His words ; some of those who had
been almost, if not utterly, convinced of His Messiahship, as they
hung upon His lips while He had uttered His great discourses in the
1 Act. Pilat. x. ijXBe pexpi rrji itvXijiS*"
9 r/yyapEvdav. It seems to have been a common thing for Roman soldiers to
impress people to carry burdens for them (Epict. Dissert, iv. 1). The Cyrenians
had a synagogue at Jerusalem (Acts ii. 10 ; vi. 9). The names Alexander and
Rufus are too common to enable us to feel any certainty as to their identification
with those of the same name mentioned in Acts xix. 33 ; 1 Tim. i. 20 ; Rom. xvi.
13. The belief of the Cerinthians, Basilidians, Carpocratians, and other Gnostics,
that Simon was crucified for Jesus by mistake (!), is not worth notice here (Iren.
Adv. Haeres. i. 23). One of these wild distortions was that Judas was crucified
for Him ; and another that it was a certain Titian, or a phantom created by God in
the semblance of Jesus. It is a curious trace of the dissemination of Gnostic and
Apocryphal legends in Arabia that Mahomet treats the actual crucifixion of Jesus
as an unworthy calumny. (Koran, Surat. 3,4; Sale's Koran, i. 64, 124, " They
slew Him not, neither crucified Him, but He was represented by one in His like
ness.") 3 These form the subjects of the stations which are to be seen in all Romish
churches, and are mainly derived from apocryphal sources. They originated
among the Franciscans. The so-called Via Dolorosa does not seem to be men
tioned earlier than the fourteenth century. That Jesus, before being eased of His
burden, was scourged and goaded onward is but too sadly probable (Plaut. Most.
I. i. 53, " Ita te f orabunt patibulatum per viam stimulis " 421). (Cf . Jer. Taylor,
Life of Christ, III. xv. 2.)

636 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
Temple ; some of the eager crowd who had accompanied Him from
Bethlehem five days before with shouted hosannas and waving palms.
Yet if so, a faithless timidity or a deep misgiving — perhaps even a
boundless sorrow — kept them dumb. But these women, more quick
to pity, less susceptible to controlling influences, could not and would
not conceal the grief and amazement with which this spectacle filled
them. They beat upon their breasts and rent the air with their lamen
tations, till Jesus Himself hushed their shrill cries with words of solemn
warning. Turning to them — which He could not have done had
He still been staggering under the burden of His cross — He said to
them, " Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me ; but for your
selves weep, and for your children. For lo ! days are coming in
which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs which
bare not, and the breasts which gave not suck. Then shall they
begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us, and to the hills, Cover us ;
for if they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in
the dry ? " Theirs was but an emotional outburst of womanly tender
ness, which they could not repress as they saw the great Prophet of
mankind in His hour of shame and weakness, with the herald pro
claiming before Him the crimes with which He was charged, and the
Roman soldiers carrying the title of derision,1 and Simon bending
under the weight of the wood to which He was to be nailed. But
He warned them that, if this were all which they saw in the passing
spectacle, far bitterer causes of woe awaited them, and their children,
and their race. Many of them, and the majority of their children,
would live to see such rivers of bloodshed, such complications of
agony, as the world had never known before — days which would
6eem to overpass the capacities of human suffering, and would make
men seek to hide themselves, if it might be, under the very roots of
the hill on which their city stood." The fig-tree of their nation's life
was still green : if such deeds of darkness were possible now, what
should be done when that tree was withered and blasted, and ready
for the burning ? 3 — if in the days of hope and- decency they could
1 Suet. Calig. 32, "Praecedente titulo qui caussam poenae indicaret."422 This
was sometimes hung around the neck.
2 Hos. ix. 12 — 16 ; x. 8 ; Isa. ii. 10 ; Rev. vi. 16. These words of Christ met with
a painfully literal illustration when hundreds of the unhappy Jews at the siege
of Jerusalem hid themselves in the darkest and vilest subterranean recesses, and
when, besides those who were hunted out, no less than 2-.000 were killed by being
buried under the ruins of their hiding-places (Jos. B. J. vi. 9, § 4).
3 The exact meaning of this proverbial expression is not certain. It is often
explained to mean, " If, in the fulfilment of God's purposes, I the Holy and the
Innocent must suffer thus — if the green tree be thus blasted — how shall the dry

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. > 637
execrate their blameless Deliverer, what would happen in the days
of blasphemy and madness and despair ? If, under the full light of
day, Priests and Scribes could crucify the Innocent, what would be
done in the midnight orgies and blood-stained bacchanalia of zealots
and murderers ? This was a day of crime ; that would be a day when '
Crime had become her own avenging fury. — The solemn warning,
the last sermon of Christ on earth, was meant primarily for those
who heard it ; but, like all the words of Christ, it has deeper and
wider meaning for all mankind. Those words warn every child of
man that the day of careless pleasure and blasphemous disbelief will
be followed by the crack of doom ; they warn each human being who
fives in pleasure on the earth, and eats, and drinks, and is drunken,
that though the patience of God waits, and His silence is unbroken,
yet the days shall come when He shall speak in thunder, and His
wrath shall burn fike fire.
And so with this sole sad episode, they came to the fatal place,
called Golgotha, or, in its Latin form, Calvary — that is, "a skull."
Why it is so called is not known. It may conceivably have been a
well-known place of execution ; or possibly the name may imply a
bare, rounded, scalp-like elevation. It is constantly called the " hill
of Golgotha," or of Calvary ; but the Gospels merely call it " a
place," and not a hill.1 Respecting its site volumes have been writ
ten, but nothing is known. The data for anything approaching to
certainty 'are wholly wanting ; and, in all probability, the actual spot
lies buried and obliterated under th'e mountainous rubbish-heaps
of the ten-times-taken city. The rugged and precipitous mountain
represented in sacred pictures is as purely imaginary as the skull
of Adam, which is often painted lying at the foot of the cross," or as
tree of a wicked life, with its abominable branches, be consumed in the uttermost
burning?" (Cf. Prov. xi. 31 ; Ezek. xx. 47 ; xxi. 4; and especially 1 Peter iv. 17.)
(See Schenkel, Charakterbild, p. 30, E. Tr.) The difficulty of understanding the
words was early felt, and we find an absurd allusion to them in the. Revenging of
the Saviour, where Titus exclaims, " They hung our Lord on a green tree ... let
us hang them on a dry tree."
1 Matt, xxvii. 33 ; Mark xv. 22. Calvary is used by the E. V. as a rendering of
xpaviov, " scull," only in Luke xxiii. 33. It is called " monticulus " in the old
Itiner. Burdig. Hieros. vii. Renan compares the French word " Chaumont " ( Vie
de J'esus, 416). Ewald identifies it with the hill Gareb (Jer. xxxi. 39). It is hardly
worth while to enter into elaborate arguments about the site, which may any day
be overthrown by a discovery of the course of the second wall.
2 " Ibi erectus est medicus ubi jacebat aegrotus " 4S3 (Aug.). Origen compares 1
Cor. xv. 22. There was a legend that -three drops of Christ's blood fell on Adam's
skull, and caused his resurrection, fulfilling the ancient prophecy quoted in Eph.
v. 14, where Jerome had heard a preacher adopt the reading, "Awake, Adam that

638 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
any other of the myriads of legends, which have gathered round this
most stupendous and moving scene in the world's history. All that
we know of Golgotha, all that we shall ever know, all that God
willed to be known, is that it was without the city gate. The relig
ion of Christ is spiritual ; it needs no relic ; it is independent of
Holy Places; it says to each of its children, not "Lo, here!" and
" lo, there ! " but " The kingdom of God is within you."
Utterly brutal and revolting as was the punishment of crucifixion,
which has now for fifteen hundred years been abolished by the com
mon pity and abhorrence of mankind,1 there was one custom in
Judsea, and one occasionally practised by the Romans, which reveal
some touch of passing humanity. The latter consisted in giving to
the sufferer a blow under the arm-pit, which, without causing death,
yet hastened its approach." Of this I need not speak, because, for
whatever reason, it was not practised on this occasion. The former,
which seems to have been due to the milder nature of Judaism, and
which was derived from a happy piece of Rabbinic exegesis on Prov.
xxxi. 6, consisted in giving to the condemned, immediately before
his execution, a draught of wine medicated with some powerful
opiate.3 It had been the custom of wealthy ladies in Jerusalem to
provide this stupefying potion at their own expense, and they did so
sleepest . . . and Christ shall touch thee" (iitiipavdet). Jer. in Matt, xxvii.
33 ; Reland, Palest. 860, for the true reading iiticpavdEi). The words in the orig
inal are rhythmical, and as they do not occur in Scripture, they are now usually
considered to be a fragment of some early Christian hymn.
1 It was abolished by Constantine (Aur. Vict. Const. 41). The infamy of cruci
fixion is still preserved in the reproachful name Talui (¦ 11pri) in which the Talmud
speaks of Jesus, and ipn 'IDiy, " worshippers of the Hung," which they apply to
Christians, though, according to their fable, He was first stoned, then hung on the
tree. " Servile," " infame," " crudelissimum," " taeterrimum," " summum," " extre-
mum," " supplicium," 424 are the names given to it by the Romans. (Cic. Verr. v.
66 and passim. See Phil. ii. 8 ; Cic. Pro. Rab. 5, " Nomen ipsum crucis absit non
modo a corpore civium Romanorum, sed etiam a cogitatione, oculis, auribus." 42t)
Maecenas, in one of the few interesting fragments of his verses, speaks of it as
the extreme of horror, and the ultimate agony.
" Vita dum superest bene est ;
Hanc mihi.ue! acuta
Si sedeam cruce, sustine." 426 (Sen. Ep. 101.)
2 So Sen. Ep. 101 ; Orig. in Matth. 140 (Keim). Sometimes men were killed
before crucifixion (Suet. Jul. Cms. i. 74).
3 St. Mark calls it idpvpvidpivov oivov, " myrrh-mingled wine ; " it is not
likely that the exact ingredients would be known. St. Matthew mentally refers
it to Ps. Ixix. 21, o^oi (or possibly oivov, which Tischendorf admits from X, B, D,
K, L, &c.) perd x°^Vl°- The Romans called these medicated cups " sopores "
(Plin. xx. 18 , Sen. Ep. 83, &c).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 639
quite irrespectively of their sympathy for any individual criminal.
It was probably taken freely by the two malefactors, but when they
offered it to Jesus He would not take it. The refusal was an act of
sublimest heroism. The effect of the draught was to dull the nerves,
to cloud the intellect, to provide an anaesthetic against some part, at
least, of the lingering agonies of that dreadful death. But He,
whom some modern sceptics have been base enough to accuse of fem
inine feebleness and cowardly despair, preferred rather " to look Death
in the face " — to meet the king of terrors without striving to deaden
the force of one agonizing anticipation, or to still the throbbing of
one lacerated nerve.
The three crosses were laid on the ground — that of Jesus, which
was doubtless taller than the other two, being placed in bitter scorn
in the midst. Perhaps the cross-beam was now nailed to the upright,
and certainly the title, which had either been borne by Jesus fastened
round His neck, or carried by one of the soldiers in front of Him,
was now nailed to the summit of His cross. Then He was stripped
naked of all His clothes,1 and then followed the most awful moment
of all. He was laid down upon the implement of torture. His arms
were stretched along the cross-beams ; and at the centre of the open
palms, the point of a huge iron nail was placed, which, by the blow
of a mallet, was driven home into the wood." Then through either
foot separately, or possibly through both together as they were placed
one over the other, another huge nail tore its way through the quiver
ing flesh.3 Whether the sufferer was also bound to the cross we do
not know ; but to prevent the hands and feet being torn away by the
weight of the body, which could not " rest upon nothing but four
great wounds," there was, about the centre of the cross, a wooden
projection strong enough to support, at least in part, a human body
which soon became a weight of agony.4
1 We can but hope that the itEpiiZaodav avrov XEvnovi2,} of the Acts of
Pilate (ch. 10), is true ; if so, it was exceptional, and the evidence of later martyr
doms — even of women — points the other way, as does also the Jewish custom.
2 I write thus because the familiarity of oft-repeated words prevents us from
realizing what crucifixion really was, and because it seems well that we should
realize this. The hideous custom was probably copied by the Romans from the
Phoenicians. The Egyptians simply bound the hands and feet, leaving the suf
ferer to die mainly of starvation.
* This was the earlier tradition, hence Greg. Naz. (De Christ. Patient.) calls the
cross %6Xov rpidr/Xov,i2S and Nonnus calls the feet 6poitXoxs'si.m But Cyprian,
who had witnessed crucifixions, speaks of four nails (De Pass).
4 itrjypa. Hence the expressions iitoxeidBai i tt'i dravpov.m " Sedere in
cruce, sedilis excessus," 4al &c. (Jer. Taylor, Life of Christ, III. xv. 2). On the
other hand, there was no suppedaneum, or " foot-rest ; " though it is still repeated

640 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
It was probably at this moment of inconceivable horror that the
voice of the Son of Man was heard uplifted, not in a scream of natural
agony at that fearful torture, but calmly praying in Divine compas
sion for His brutal and pitiless murderers — aye, and for all who in
their sinful ignorance crucify Him afresh for ever ' — " Father, for
give THEM, FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO."
And then the accursed tree" — with its living human burden
hanging upon it in helpless agony, and suffering fresh tortures as
every movement irritated the fresh rents in hands and feet — was
slowly heaved up by strong arms, and the end of it fixed firmly in a
hole dug deep in the ground for that purpose.3 The feet were but
a little raised above the earth. The victim was in full reach of
every hand that might choose to strike, in close proximity to every
gesture of insult and hatred. He might hang for hours to be abused,
outraged, even tortured by the ever-moving multitude who, with
that desire to see what is horrible which always characterizes the
coarsest hearts, had thronged to gaze upon a sight which should rather
have made them weep tears of blood.
And there, in tortures which grew ever more insupportable, ever
more maddening as time flowed on, the unhappy victims might linger
in a living death so cruelly intolerable, that often they were driven
to entreat and implore the spectators, or the executioners, for dear
pity's sake, to put an end to anguish too awful for man to bear —

in modern pictures. The illustrations by G. Durrant in the popular edition of
Renan's Vie de Jesus, though evidently meant to serve a purpose, are, in general,
extremely true to Oriental life ; but those of the Crucifixion seem to me to be
incorrect in many particulars. The hands were probably bound as well as nailed
(Luc. vi. 543 — " laqueum nodosque nocenles ore suo rupit; pendentia corpora
carpsit Abrasitque cruces . . . Insertum manibus chalybem .... sus-
tulit"432). 1 The thought is more than once expressed by Mr. Browning (A Death in the
Desert) : — "Is not His love, at issue still with sin,
Closed with, and cast, and conquered, crucified
Visibly when a wrong is done on earth?"
2 Infelix lignum (Liv. i. 26 ; Sen. Ep. 101, &c). Now that this "tree of cursing
and shame sits upon the sceptres, and is engraved and signed on the foreheads of
kings " (Jer. Taylor), we can hardly imagine the disgust and horror with which it
was once regarded when it had no associations but those " of pain, of guilt, and
of ignominy" (Gibbon, ii. 153).
3 Compare the old prophecy alluded to by Barnabas, Ep. 12, orav c,vXov
xXiBy xai dvadry[.m Sometimes the sufferer was lifted and nailed after the
cross had been erected (dvrjyov r/yov r)yov sti dxpov z-e'AoS,434 Greg. Naz.,
" Crucisalus ; " Plaut. Bacch. ii. 3, 128).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 641
conscious to the last, and often, with tears of abject misery, beseech
ing from their enemies the priceless boon of death.'
For indeed a death by crucifixion seems to include all that pain
and death can have of horrible and ghastly — dizziness, cramp, thirst,
starvation, sleeplessness, traumatic fever, tetanus, publicity of shame,
long continuance of torment, horror of anticipation, mortification of
untended wounds — all intensified just up to the point at which they
can be endured at all, but all stopping just short of the point which
would give to the sufferer the relief of unconsciousness. The unnatu
ral position made every movement painful ; the lacerated veins and
crushed tendons throbbed with incessant anguish ; the wounds,
inflamed by exposure, gradually gangrened ; the arteries — especially
of the head and stomach — became swollen and oppressed with sur
charged blood ; and while each variety of misery went on gradually
increasing, there was added to them the intolerable pang of a burn
ing and raging thirst ; and all these physical complications caused an
internal excitement and anxiety, which made the prospect of death
itself — of death, the awful unknown enemy, at whose approach man
usually shudders most — bear the aspect of a delicious and exquisite
release.'" Such was the death to which Christ was doomed ; and though for
Him it was happily shortened by all that He had previously endured,
yet He hung from soon after noon until nearly sunset, before " He
gave up His soul to death."
When the cross was uplifted, the leading Jews, for the first time,
prominently noticed the deadly insult in which Pilate had vented his
indignation. Before, in their blind rage, they had imagined that the
manner of His crucifixion was an insult aimed at Jesus ; but now
that they saw Him hanging between the two' robbers, on a cross yet
loftier, it suddenly flashed upon them that it was a public scorn
inflicted upon them. For on the white wooden tablet smeared with
gypsum,3 which was to be seen so conspicuously over the head
of Jesus on the cross, ran, in black letters, an inscription in the three
civilized languages of the ancient world — the three languages of
which one at least was certain to be known by every single man in
that assembled multitude — in the official Latin, in the current Greek,
1 And hence there are many ancient instances of men having been first strangled,
or nearly killed, and then crucified ; and of men who bought by large bribes this
mournful but merciful privilege (Cic. Verr. 2, 45).
8 See the epitome of Richter (a German physician) in Jahn's Archaeol. Bibl, p.
261. 3 Called davii, rirXoi, Xsvxaopa, itivaZ,.
81

642 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
in the vernacular Aramaic — informing all that this Man who was
thus enduring a shameful, servile death — this Man thus crucified
between two sicarii in the sight of the world,1 was

THE KING OF THE JEWS

»i

To Him who was crucified the poor malice seemed to have in it
nothing of derision. Even on His cross He reigned ; even there
He seemed divinely elevated above the priests who had brought about
His death, and the coarse, idle, vulgar multitude who had flocked to
feed their greedy eyes upon His sufferings. The malice was quite
impotent against One whose spiritual and moral nobleness struck awe
mto dying malefactors and heathen executioners, even in the lowest
abyss of His physical degradation. With the passionate ill-humor of
the Roman governor there probably blended a vein of seriousness.
While he was delighted to revenge himself on his detested subjects
by an act of public insolence, he probably meant, or half meant, to
imply that this was, in one sense, the King of the Jews — the great
est, the noblest, the truest of His race, whom therefore His race had
crucified. The King was not unworthy of His kingdom, but the
kingdom of the King. There was something loftier even than roy
alty in the glazing eyes which never ceased to look with sorrow on
the City of Righteousness, which had now become a city of murderers.
The Jews felt the intensity of the scorn with which Pilate had
treated them. It so completely poisoned their hour of triumph, that
they sent their chief priests in deputation, begging the Governor to
alter the obnoxious title. " Write not," they said, " ' The King of
the Jews,' but that ' He said, I am the King of the Jews.' " But
Pilate's courage, which had oozed away so rapidly at the name of
Caesar, had now revived. He was glad in any and every way to
1 Mark xv. 28 (Isa. liii. 12) is probably spurious, not being found in a, A, B, C,
D, &c. St. Mark, writing for the Romans, never once quotes from the Old
Testament. 2 We cannot tell which of the Evangelists gives the exact title : it is, however,
possible that the longest one is accurately given by St. John (xix. 19), and that it
was the one in Aramaic, which would require least room. It is, at least, a prob
able conjecture that they ran as follows in the order mentioned by St. Matthew : —
omrpn i?o nvjn ie»
'O (SadiXsvi raov 'IovSaiaov.
Rex Judaeorum hie est. (Luke xxiii. 38.)
Professor Westcott remarks that, as given by St. Luke, it " seems like the scorn
ful turn of the Latin title" (Introd., p. 307). The true reading in St. Luke is 'O
fiadtXsvi raov 'IovSaiaov ovroi 436 (H). There is a monograph by S. Reyherus,
De Crucifixi Jesu Titulis, 1694. (See Hofmann, Leb. Jes. 375).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 643
browbeat and thwart the men whose seditious clamor had forced him
in the morning to act against his will. Few men had the power of
giving expression to a sovereign contempt more effectually than the
Romans. Without deigning any justification of what he had done,
Pilate summarily dismissed these solemn hierarchs with the curt and
contemptuous reply, " What I have written, I have written." l
In order to prevent the possibility of any rescue, even at the last
moment — since instances had been known of men taken from the
cross and restored to life " — a quaternion of soldiers with their cen
turion were left on the ground to guard the cross. The clothes of
the victims always fell as perquisites to the men who had to perform
so weary and disagreeable an office. Little dreaming how exactly
they were fulfilling the mystic intimations of olden Jewish prophecy,
they proceeded, therefore, to divide between them the garments of
Jesus. The tallith they tore into four parts, probably ripping it
down the seams ; 3 but the cetdneth, or under-garment, was formed of
one continuous woven texture, and to tear would have been to spoil
it ; they therefore contented themselves with letting it become the
property of any one of the four to whom it should fall by lot. When
this had been decided, they sat down and watched Him till the end,
beguiling the weary lingering hours by eating and drinking, and
gibing, and playing dice.
It was a scene of tumult. The great body of the people seem to
have stood silently at gaze ; * but some few of them as they passed
by the cross — perhaps some of the many false witnesses and
other conspirators of the previous night — mocked at Jesus with
insulting noises * and furious taunts, especially bidding Him come
down from the cross and save Himself, since He could destroy the
Temple and build it in three days. And the chief priests, and
1 Such conduct on the part of Pilate would probably have been called " mythi
cal," &c, if we did not find Philo attributing to him just the same " malicious
intention to vex the people " (Leg. ad Caium, p. 38).
2 At the request of Josephus, who prostrated himself at the feet of Titus, three
men who had been crucified were taken down alive, and every possible effort
made to save them ; but in spite of Bspditsia impeXedrdri?*3* two of the three
died ( Vit. 75). A similar instance is narrated of SandSkes (Herod vii. 194), and of
the Convulsionnaires in the reign of Louis XV.
3 Deut. xxii. 12. Some have imagined in this cetdneth a priestly garment ; but
it was more probably the ordinary dress of the poor in Galilee — yitsp oi itraixoi
xsxpijvraz raov FdXiXaiaov 43' (Isid.).
4 Luke xxiii. 35, sidrijxEi 6 Xadi Becopaov.43* This seems to be clearly con
trasted with oi dpxovrei and oi drpariaorai.41*
1 Mark xv. 29, Ova.

644 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
scribes, and elders, less awe-struck, less compassionate than the mass
of the people, were not ashamed to disgrace their grey-haired dignity
and lofty reputation by adding their heartless reproaches to those of
the evil few. Unrestrained by the noble patience of the Sufferer,
unsated by the accomplishment of their wicked vengeance, unmoved
by the sight of helpless anguish and the look of eyes that began to
glaze in death, they congratulated one another ; under His cross
with scornful insolence — "He saved others, Himself He cannot
save." " Let this Christ, this King of Israel, descend now from the
cross, that we may see and believe." No wonder then that the
ignorant soldiers took their share of mockery with these shameless
and un venerable hierarchs : no wonder that, at their midday meal,
they pledged in mock hilarity the Dying Man, cruelly holding up
towards His burning lips their cups of sour wine, and echoing the
Jewish taunts against the weakness of the King whose throne was a
cross, whose crown was thorns. Nay, even the poor wretches who
were crucified with Him caught the hideous infection ; comrades,
perhaps, of the respited Bar- Abbas — heirs of the rebellious fury of
a Judas the Gaulonite — trained to recognize no Messiah but a Mes
siah of the sword, they reproachfully bade Him, if His claims were
true, to save Himself and them." So all the voices about Him rang
with blasphemy and spite, and in that long slow agony His dying
ear caught no accent of gratitude, of pity, or of love. Baseness,
falsehood, savagery, stupidity — such were the characteristics of the
world which thrust itself into hideous prominence before the Saviour's
last consciousness — such the muddy and miserable stream that rolled
under the cross before His dying eyes.3
But amid this chorus of infamy Jesus spoke not. He could have
spoken. The pains of crucifixion did not confuse the intellect, or
paralyze the powers of speech. We read of crucified men who, for
hours together upon the cross, vented their sorrow, their rage, or their
1 Mark xv. 31, ipitatZovrsi itpdi dXXrfXovi . . . EXEyov.44,2
2 In this, as in many other places, I have contented myself with silently show
ing that the supposed contradictions between the narratives of the Gospels do not
necessarily exist. There is no contradiction in the text, yet I have only translated
correctly the aoveiSiZov (Matt, xxvii. 44), the reproach in which the robbers at
first joined, and the ifiXadcprfpei (Luke xxiii. 39), the furious reviling of which
only the unrepentant one was guilty. (See Lange, v. 398.)
3 A friend supplies me with a sad and striking passage from the martyrdom of
a true servant of Jesus — Savonarola. " Hie quoque non praeteribo silentio f uisse
ilium pendentem in ligno a puerorum multitudine saxis impetitum : a quibus
antea solitus erat in templo ante praedicationis initium hymnis et laudibus
excipi." 441 (Pietro Delfrini [an eye-witness], Epist. v. 73.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 645
despair in the manner that best accorded with their character; of
some who raved and cursed, and, spat at their enemies ; of others who
protested to the last against the iniquity of their sentence ; of others
who implored compassion with abject entreaties ; of one even who,
from the cross, as from a tribunal, harangued the multitude of his
countrymen, and upbraided them with their wickedness and vice.1
But, except to bless and to encourage, and to add to the happiness and
hope of others, Jesus spoke not. So far as the malice of the passers-
by, and of priests and Sanhedrists, and soldiers, and of these poor
robbers who suffered with Him, was concerned — as before during
the trial so now upon the cross — He maintained unbroken His
kingly silence.
But that silence, joined to His patient majesty and the divine holi
ness and innocence which radiated from Him like a halo, was more
eloquent than any words. It told earliest on one of the crucified
robbers. At first this "bonus latro" 441t of the Apocryphal Gospels,
seems to have faintly joined in the reproaches uttered by his fellow-
sinner ; but when those reproaches merged into deeper blasphemy,
he spoke out his inmost thought. It is probable that he had met
Jesus before, and heard Him, and perhaps been one of those thou
sands who had seen His miracles. - There is indeed no authority for
the legend which assigns to him the name of Dysmas, or for the
beautiful story of his having saved the life of the Yirgin and her
Child during their flight into Egypt." But on the plains of Gen
nesareth, perhaps from some robber's cave in the wild ravines of the
Yalley of the Doves, he may well have approached His presence —
he may well have been one of those publicans and sinners who drew
near to Him for to hear Him. And the words of Jesus had found
some room in the good ground of his heart ; they had not all fallen
upon stony places. Even at this hour of shame and death, when he
was suffering the just consequence of his past evil deeds, faith
triumphed. As a flame sometimes leaps up among dying embers, so
amid the white ashes of a sinful life which lay so thick upon his
heart, the flame of love towards his God and his Saviour was not
1 Such instances are given in Keim, III. ii. 431 — e. g., Gavius, who to the last
kept shouting " Civis Romanus sum " 441 1 (Cic. Verr. v. 62) ; Eleazar (Jos. B. J.
vii. 6, § 4 ; Niger of Persea, who showed his wounds, and entreated that he might be
buried (Id. ib. iv. 6, § 1) ; Bomilcar, the Carthaginian, who harangued " de summ3
cruce velut de tribunali in Poenorum scelera " 442 (Justin, xxii. 7). " Crederem,
nisi quidam de patibulo spectatores conspuerent " 443 (Sen. De Tit. Beat. 19).
2 Arab. Evang. Infant, xxiii. See the beautiful poem on this subject in Pro
fessor Plumptre's Lazarus, and other Poems.

646 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
quite quenched. Under the hellish outcries which had broken loose
around the cross of Jesus, there had lain a deep misgiving. Half of
them seem to have been instigated by doubt and fear. Even in the
self-congratulations of the priests we catch an undertone of dread,
Suppose that even' now some imposing miracle should be wrought ?
Suppose that even now that martyr-form should burst indeed into
Messianic splendor, and the King, who seemed to be in the slow
misery of death, should suddenly with a great voice summon His
legions of angels, and springing from His cross upon the rolling
clouds of heaven, come in flaming fire to take vengeance upon His
enemies ? And the air seemed to be full of signs. There was a
gloom of gathering darkness in the sky, a thrill and tremor in the
solid earth, a haunting presence as of ghostly visitants who chilled
the heart and hovered in awful witness above that scene. The dying
robber had joined at first in the half-taunting, half-despairing appeal
to a defeat and weakness which contradicted all that he had hoped ;
but now this defeat seemed to be greater than victory, and this weak
ness more irresistible than strength. As he looked, the faith in his
heart dawned more and more into the perfect day. He had long
ceased to utter any reproachful words ; he now rebuked his comrade's
blasphemies. Ought not the suffering innocence of Him who hung
between them, to shame into silence their just punishment and fla
grant guilt? And so, turning his head to Jesus, he uttered the
intense appeal, " O Jesus, remember me when Thou comest in Thy
kingdom." * Then He, who had been mute amid invectives, spake
at once in surpassing answer to that humble prayer, " Yertly, I say
to thee, To-day shalt thou be with Me ln paradise."
Though none spoke to comfort Jesus — though deep grief, and
terror, and amazement kept them dumb — yet there were hearts
amid the crowd that beat in sympathy with the awful Sufferer. At
a distance stood a number of women looking on, and perhaps, even
at that dread hour, expecting His immediate deliverance. Many of
these were women who had ministered to Him in Galilee, and had
come from thence in the great band of Galilsean pilgrims. Conspic
uous among this heart-stricken group were His mother Mary, Mary
of Magdala, Mary the wife of Clopas, mother of James and Joses,
and Salome the wife of Zebedee. Some of them, as the hours
advanced, stole nearer and nearer to the cross, and at length the
filming eye of the Saviour fell on his own mother Mary, as, with the

1 Tischendorf reads >Ir/dov with N, B, C, L, &c. The E. V. wrongly renders
"into Thy kingdom."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 647
sword piercing through and through her heart, she stood with the
disciple whom He loved.1 His mother does not seem to have been
much with Him during His ministry. It may be that the duties
and cares of a humble home rendered it impossible. At any rate,
the only occasions on which we hear of her are occasions when
she is with His brethren, and is joined with them in endeavoring to
influence, apart from His own purposes and authority, His Messianic
course. But although at the very beginning of His Ministry He had
gently shown her that the earthly and filial relation was now to be
transcended by one far more lofty and divine, and though this end
of all her high hopes must have tried her faith with an overwhelm
ing and unspeakable sorrow, yet she was true to Him in this supreme
hour of His humiliation, and would have done for Him all that a
mother's sympathy and love can do. Nor had He for a moment for
gotten her who had bent over His infant slumbers, and with whom
He had shared those thirty years in the cottage at Nazareth. Ten
derly and sadly He thought of the future that awaited her during the
remaining years of her life on earth, troubled as they must be by the
tumults and persecutions of a struggling and nascent faith. After His
resurrection her lot was wholly cast among His Apostles, and the
Apostle whom He loved the most, the Apostle who was nearest to
Him in heart and life, seemed the fittest to take care of her. To
him, therefore — to John whom He had loved more than His brethren
— to John whose head had leaned upon His breast at the Last Supper,
He consigned her as a sacred charge. " Woman," He said to her, in
fewest words, but in words which breathed the uttermost spirit of
tenderness, "behold thy son;" and then to St. John, "Behold thy
mother." He could make no gesture with those pierced hands,
but He could bend His head. They listened in speechless emotion,
but from that hour — perhaps from that very moment — leading her
away from a spectacle which did but torture her soul with unavail
ing agony, that disciple took her to his own home."
It was now noon, and at the Holy City the sunshine should have
been burning over that scene of horror- with a power such as it has
in the full depth of an English summer-time. But instead of this,
1 Although it seems to me (even apart from the authority of the Peschito) that
four women are mentioned in John xix. 25 ; and although it is far from impossi
ble that " His mother's sister " may mean, as Meyer conjectures, Salome herself
(in which case James and John were His cousins), yet any certain decision of the
point is from the nature of the case impossible.
2 John xix. 27, eii rd iSia. Perhaps this furnishes us with a fresh proof that
St. John was more closely connected with Jerusalem than the other Apostles,

648 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
the face of the heavens was black, and the noonday sun was " turned
into darkness," on " this great and terrible day of the Lord." It
could have been no darkness of any natural eclipse, for the Paschal
moon was at the full ; but it was one of those " signs from heaven "
for which, during the ministry of Jesus, the Pharisees had so often
clamored in vain. The early Fathers appealed to Pagan authorities
— the historian Phallus, the chronicler Phlegon — for such a dark
ness ; but we have no means of testing the accuracy of these refer
ences, and it is quite possible that the darkness was a local gloom
which hung densely over the guilty city and its immediate neigh
borhood. But whatever it was, it clearly filled the minds of all
who beheld it with yet deeper misgiving. The taunts and jeers
of the Jewish priests and the heathen soldiers were evidently con
fined to the earlier hours of the crucifixion. Its later stages seem to
have thrilled alike the guilty and the innocent with emotions of dread
and horror. Of the incidents of those last three hours we are told
nothing,1 and that awful obscuration of the noonday sun may well
have overawed every heart into an inaction respecting which there
vvas nothing to relate. What Jesus suffered then for us men and our
salvation we cannot know, for during those three hours He hung
upon His cross in silence and darkness ; or, if He spoke', there were
none there to record His words. But towards the close of that time
His anguish culminated, and — emptied to the very uttermost- of
that glory which He had since the world began — drinking to the
very deepest dregs the cup of humiliation and bitterness — enduring,
not only to have taken upon Him the form of a servant, but also to
suffer the last infamy which human hatred could impose on servile
helplessness — He uttered that mysterious cry, of which the full
significance will never be fathomed by man —
" Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani ? " " (" My God, my God, why hast
thou forsaken me ? ")
In those words, quoting the Psalm in which the early Fathers
rightly saw a far-off prophecy of the whole passion of Christ,3 He
1 On the obvious discrepancy between the existing texts of St. John and of the
Synoptists as to this reckoning of hours, see supra, p. 628.
2 This utterance on the cross is the only one recorded by the two first Evangel
ists, and is recorded by them alone, vnpyv is for vjfiiijk. gt_ Mark preserves the
more purely Aramaic form Eloi. The fact that thus in His last moments Jesus
speaks in Aramaic, would seem to prove that this had been the ordinary language
of His life.
3 Tert. Adv. Marc. iii. 19, " Si adhuc quaeris dominicae cruc's praedicationem,
satis tibi potest facere vicesimus primus psalmus, totam Christi continens
passionem." 4ii (Keim.)

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 649
borrowed from David's utter agony the expression of His own. In
that hour He was alone. Sinking from depth to depth of unfathom
able suffering, until, at the close approach of a death which — because
He was God, and yet had been made man — was more awful to Him
than it could ever be to any of the sons of men, it seemed as if even
His Divine Humanity could endure no more.
Doubtless the voice of the Sufferer — though uttered loudly in
that paroxysm of an emotion which, in another, would almost have
touched the verge of despair — was yet rendered more uncertain and
indistinct from the condition of exhaustion in which He hung ; and
so, amid the darkness, and confused noise, and dull footsteps of the
moving multitude, there were some who did not hear what He had
said. They had caught only the first syllable, and said to one
another that He had called on the name of Elijah.1 The readiness
with which they seized this false impression is another proof of the
wild state of excitement and terror — the involuntary dread of some- .
thing great, and unforeseen, and terrible — to which they had been
reduced from their former savage insolence. For Elijah, the great
prophet of the Old Covenant, was inextricably mingled with all the
Jewish expectations of a Messiah, and these expectations were full of
wrath. The coming of Elijah would be the coming of a day of fire,
in which the sun should be turned into blackness and the moon into
blood, and the powers of heaven should be shaken. Already the
noonday sun was shrouded in unnatural eclipse: might not some
awful form at any moment rend the heavens and come down, touch
the mountains and they should smoke? The vague anticipation of
conscious guilt was unfulfilled. Not such as yet was to be the
method of God's workings. His messages to man for many ages
more were not to be in the thunder and earthquake, not in rushing
wind or roaring flame, but in the " still small voice " speaking always
amid the apparent silences of Time in whispers intelligible to man's
heart, but in which there is neither speech nor language, though the
voice is heard.
But now the end was very rapidly approaching, and Jesus, who
had been hanging for nearly six hours upon the cross, was suffering
from that torment of thirst which is most difficult of all for the

a It has been urged that it would be impossible to confuse Eloi with Elijahu,
and that every Jew would have known what Eloi meant. But the first assertion is
by no means self-evident under the circumstances ; and as for the second, there
might be many in "this motley, multitude — the Paschal gathering of pilgrims
from all nations — to whom Aramaic was by no means familiar.

650 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
human frame to bear — perhaps the most unmitigated of the many
separate sources of anguish which were combined in this worst form
of death. No doubt this burning thirst was aggravated by seeing
the Roman soldiers drinking so near the cross ; and happily for man
kind, Jesus had never sanctioned the unnatural affectation of stoic
impassibility. And so He uttered the one sole word of physical suffer
ing which had been wrung from Him by all the hours in which He
had endured the extreme of all that man can inflict. He cried aloud,
"I thirst." ' Probably a few hours before, the cry would have
only provoked a roar of frantic mockery ; but now the lookers-on
were reduced by awe to a readier humanity. Near the cross there
lay on the ground the large earthen vessel containing the posca,
which was the ordinary drink of the Roman soldiers. The mouth of
it was filled with a piece of sponge, which served as a cork. Instantly
some one — we know not whether he was friend or enemy, or merely
one who was there out of idle curiosity — took out the sponge and
dipped it in the posca " to give it to Jesus. But low as was the eleva
tion of the cross, the head of the Sufferer, as it rested on the hori
zontal beam of the accursed tree, was just beyond the man's reach ;
and therefore he put the sponge at the end of a stalk of hyssop —
about a foot long — and held it up to the parched and dying lips.'
Even this simple act of pity, which Jesus did not refuse, seemed to
jar upon the condition of nervous excitement with which some of the
multitude were looking on. " Let be," they said to the man, " let
us see whether Elias is coming to save Him." The man did not
desist from his act of mercy, but when it was done he too seems to
have echoed those uneasy words.4 But Elias came not, nor human
comforter, nor angel deliverer. It was the will of God, it was the
will of the Son of God, that He should be " perfected through suffer
ings ; " * that — for the eternal example of all His children as long as
the world should last — He should "endure unto the end."
And now the end was come. Once more, in the words of the

1Aitpao. As-Siijilti, an Arabic writer, describing the crucifixion of a young Turk
in 1247, says that he complained of intense thirst on the first day, and his suffer
ings were increased by seeing constantly before him the waters of the BaradS, on
the banks of which he was crucified. (Dr. Nicholson, in Kitto, i. 595.)
' Mark xv. 36, yspidai diioyyov ot-ovs.446 The hyssop is either a species of
marjoram, or the caper-plant (Gapparis spinosa), of which the stem is woody
(Royle, Journ. Sacr. Lit., Oct. 1849).
3 The xaXdiiao m of Matt, xxvii. 48 = vddabitap *" (John xix. 29).
4 Mark xv. 36.
5 Heb. v. 7, 8 ; ii. 10 ; Phil. ii. 8, 9.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 651
sweet Psalmist of Israel,1 but adding to them that title of trustful
love which, through Him, is permitted to the use of all mankind,
" Father," He said, " into Thy hands I commend my spirit."
Then with one more great effort He uttered the last cry — the one
victorious word TsrsXsGtai, " It is finished." It may be that that
great cry ruptured some of the vessels of His heart ; for no sooner
had it been uttered than He bowed His head upon His breast, and
yielded His life, "a ransom for many" — a willing sacrifice to His
Heavenly Father." " Finished was His holy life ; with His life His
struggle, with His struggle His work, with His work the redemption,
with the redemption the foundation of the new world." 3 At that
moment the vail of the Temple was rent in twain from the top to the
bottom.4 An earthquake shook the earth and split the rocks, and as
it rolled away from their places the great stones which closed and
covered the cavern sepulchres of the Jews, so it seemed to the imag
inations of many to have disimprisoned the spirits of the dead, and
to have filled the air with ghostly visitants, who after Christ
had risen appeared to linger in the Holy City." These circum
stances of amazement, joined to all they had observed in the
bearing of the Crucified, cowed even the cruel and gay indifference
of the Roman soldiers. On the centurion, who was in command of
1 Ps. xxxi. 5. Cf. Acts vii. 59 ; 1 Pet. ii. 23.
2 There may be something intentional in the fact that in describing the death of
Christ the Evangelists do not use the neuter verb sBavsv, but the phrases,
it-EitvEvdEV (Mark xv. 37; Luke xxiii. 46) ; dcpijxsv rd itvevpa (Matt, xxvii.
50) ; itapiSaoxEv rd itvsvpa (John xix. 80) ; as though they imply with St.
Augustine that He gave up His life, " quia voluit, quando voluit, quomodo voluit." 44s
" Oblatus est quia ipse voluit," 449 Isa. liii. 7 (Vulg.). (Bunsen, Bibelwerk, ix. 455.)
— I have not here touched on any questions as to the suffering of Jesus in His
humanity, but not in His divinity, &c. (Pearson On the Creed, Art. iv.) All these
theological questions about the dvriSodii, dvnpsrddradii, itEpixaoprjdii, com-
municatio idiomatum,41'' &c, seem to me far to transcend our powers of reasoning.
But Christ's perfectly voluntary resignation of His own life is distinctly asserted
in John x. 18.
3 Lange, v. 420.
4 Heb. vi. 19 ; ix. 3 ; x. 19, 20. The vail intended must be the parocheth, or
inner vail. The Gospel to the Hebrews said that at the same moment a vast beam
over the Temple lintel was shattered (Jer. ad. Matt, xxvii. 51). It is far from
improbable that the Jewish legends of strange portents which happened " forty
years " (as they say in their usual loose and vague manner) before the destruction
of the Temple, are in reality the echoes and reminiscences of those which in fact
took place at the death of Christ. Tertullian says to the Jews with unanswerable
force, " Non potuisse cessare legem antiquam et prophetas, nisi venisset is, qui per
eandem legem et per eosdem prophetas venturus adnuntiabatur " 461 ( Adv. Jud. 6).
6 Only in some such way as this can I account for the singular and wholly
isolated allusion of Matt, xxvii. 52, 53.

652 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
them, the whole scene had exercised a yet deeper influence. As he
stood opposite to the cross and saw the Saviour die, he glorified God,
and exclaimed, "This Man was in truth righteous" — nay, more,
" This Man was a Son of God." Even the multitude, utterly sobered
from their furious excitement and frantic rage, began to be weighed,
down with a guilty consciousness that the scene which they had wit
nessed had in it something more awful than they could have con
ceived, and as they returned to Jerusalem they wailed, and beat upon
their breasts. Well might they do so ! This was the last drop in a
a full cup of wickedness : this was the beginning of the end of their.
city, and name, and race.
And in truth that scene was more awful than they, or even we,.
can know. The secular historian, be he ever so sceptical, cannot fail
to see in it the central point of the world's history. Whether he be
a believer in Christ or not, he cannot refuse to admit that this new
religion grew from the smallest of all seeds to be a mighty tree, so
that the birds of the air took refuge in its branches ; that it was the
little stone cut without hands which dashed into pieces the colossal
image of heathen greatness, and grew till it became a great mountain
and filled the earth. Alike to the infidel and to the believer the
crucifixion is the boundary instant between ancient and modern days.
Morally and physically, no less than spiritually, the Faith of Christ
was the Palingenesia of the world. It came like the dawn of a new
spring to nations "effete with the drunkenness of crime." The
struggle was long and hard, but from the hour when Christ died
began the death-knell to every Satanic tyranny and every tolerated
abomination. From that hour Holiness became the universal ideal of
all who name the name of Christ as their Lord, and the attainment
of that ideal the common heritage of souls in which His Spirit dwells.
The effects, then, of the work of Christ are even to the unbeliever
indisputable and historical. It expelled cruelty ; it curbed passion ;
it branded suicide ; it punished and repressed an execrable infanti
cide ; it drove the shameless impurities of heathendom into a con
genial darkness. There was hardly a class whose wrongs it did not
remedy. It rescued the gladiator ; it freed the slave ; it protected
the captive ; it nursed the sick ; it sheltered the orphan ; it elevated
the woman ; it shrouded as with a halo of sacred innocence the ten
der years of the child. In every region of life its ameliorating influ
ence was felt. It changed pity from a vice into a virtue.1 It elevated
1 " Misericordia animi vitium est " 4B2 (Sen. De Clem.). " Nee ille Aut doluit
miserans inopem " 463 (Virg.).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 653
poverty from a curse into a beatitude.1 It ennobled labor from a
vulgarity into a dignity and a duty. It sanctified marriage from little
more than a burdensome convention into fittle less than a blessed
sacrament. It revealed for the first time the angelic beauty of a
Purity of which men had despaired and of a Meekness at which they
had utterly scoffed. It created the very conception of charity, and
broadened the limits of its obligation from the narrow circle of a
neighborhood to the widest horizons of the race. And while it thus
evolved the idea of Humanity as a common brotherhood, even where
its tidings were not believed — all over the world, wherever its tidings
were believed, it cleansed the life, and elevated the soul of each indi
vidual man. And in all lands where it has moulded the characters
of its true believers, it has created hearts so pure, and lives so peace
ful, and homes so sweet, that it might seem as though those angels
who had heralded its advent had also whispered to every depressed
and despairing sufferer among the sons of men, " Though ye have
lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove, that is
covered with silver wings, and her feathers like gold."
Others, if they can and will, may see in such a work as this no
Divine Providence ; they may think it philosophical enlightenment
to hold that Christianity and Christendom are adequately accounted
for by the idle dreams of a noble self -deceiver, and the passionate
hallucinations of a recovered demoniac. We persecute them not,
we denounce them not, we judge them not ; but we say that, unless
all fife be a hollow, there could have been no such miserable origin
to the sole religion of the world, which holds the perfect balance
between philosophy and popularity, between religion and morals,
between meek submissiveness and the pride of freedom, between
the ideal and the real, between the inward and the outward, between
modest stillness and heroic energy, nay, between the tenderest con
servatism and the boldest plans of world-wide reformation." The
witness of History to Christ is a witness which has been given with
irresistible cogency; and it has been so given to none but Him.
But while even the unbeliever must see what the life and death of
Jesus have effected in the world, to the believer that life and death
are something deeper still ; to him they are nothing less than a resur
rection from the dead. He sees in the cross of Christ something
which far transcends its historical significance. He sees in it the

1 " Ingens vitium, magnum opprobrium pauperies " 454 (Sen.). " Blessed are the
poor in spirit " (Matt. v. 3).
2 Keim, p. 370 (abridged edition).

654 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
fulfilment of all prophecy as well as the consummation of all history ;
he sees in it the explanation of the mystery of birth, and the conquest
Over the mystery of the grave. In that life he finds a perfect exam
ple ; in that death an infinite redemption. As he contemplates the
Incarnation and the Crucifixion, he no longer feels that God is far
away, and that this earth is but a disregarded speck in the infinite
azure, and he himself but an insignificant atom chance-thrown amid
the thousand million living souls of an innumerable race, but he
exclaims in faith and hope and love, "Behold, the tabernacle of God
is with men ; yea, He will be their God, and they shall be His peo
ple." " Ye are the temple of the living God ; as God hath said, I
will dwell in them, and walk in them." '
The sun was westering as the darkness rolled away from the com
pleted sacrifice. They who had not thought it a pollution to inaugu
rate their feast by the murder of their Messiah, were seriously
alarmed lest the sanctity of the following day — which began at sun
set — should be compromised by the hanging of the corpses on the
cross. And horrible to relate, the crucified often lived for many
hours — nay, even for two days — in their torture. The Jews there
fore begged Pilate that their legs might be broken, and their bodies
taken down. This crurifragium, as it was called, consisted in strik
ing the legs of the sufferers with a heavy mallet, a violence which
seemed always to have hastened, if it did not instantly cause their
death. Nor would the Jews be the only persons who would be
anxious to hasten the end, by giving the deadly blow. Until life
was extinct, the soldiers appointed to guard the execution dared not
leave the ground. The wish, therefore, was readily granted. The
soldiers broke the legs of the two malefactors first," and then, coming
to Jesus, found that the great cry had been indeed His last, and that
He was dead already. They did not, therefore, break His legs, and
thiis unwittingly preserved the symbolism of that Paschal lamb, of
which He was the antitype, and of which it had been commanded
that " a bone of it shall not be broken." 3 And yet, as He might be

1 Ezek. xxxvii. 26 ; 2 Cor. vi. 16.
8 If we must look for any reason, we may suppose that two soldiers broke the
legs of a malefactor on either side first ; or possibly that the cross of Jesus being
a little loftier may have rendered it less easy to give the blow at once.
3 Exod. xii. 46 (St. John also refers to Zech. xii. 10) ; Rev. i. 7. It is a striking
circumstance that the body of the Paschal lamb was literally crucified on two
transverse spits. I witnessed the Samaritan Passover on the summit of Mount
Gerizim in 1870, and the bodies of the seven lambs as they were prepared for
roasting looked exactly as though they were laid on seven crosses.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 655
only in a syncope — as instances had been known in which men
apparently dead had been taken down from the cross and resuscitated
— and as the lives of the soldiers would have had to answer for any
irregularity, one of them, in order to make death certain, drove the
broad head of his hasta into His side. The wound, as it was meant
to do, pierced the region of the heart, and " forthwith," says St.
John, with an emphatic appeal to the truthfulness of his eye-witness
(an appeal which would be singularly and impossibly blasphemous if
the narrative were the forgery which so much elaborate modern
criticism has wholly failed to prove that it is), " forthwith came
there out blood and water." Whether the water was due to some
abnormal pathological . conditions caused by the dreadful complica
tion of the Saviour's sufferings — or whether it rather means that the
pericardium had been rent by the spear-point, and that those who
took down the body observed some drops of its serum mingled with
the blood — in either case that lance-thrust was sufficient to hush
all the heretical assertions that Jesus had only seemed to die ; ' and
as it assured the soldiers, so should it assure all who have doubted,
that He, who on the third day rose again, had in truth been crucified,
dead, and buried, and that His soul had passed into the unseen
world.

! The early Fathers all appeal to this fact in refutation of the Docetae. As the
effusion of lymph and blood after a post-mortem incision, though rare, is asserted
by some physicians not to be unknown, there seems to be no need to regard the
fact as miraculous. Opinions are divided as to whether the water was merely
the lymph of the pericardium, or the decomposed crassamentum and serum of
extravasated blood. That the circumstance is . not impossible, especially if our
Lord died of a ruptured heart (Ps. xxii. 14; lxix. 20) [or from a state of pleurisy?],
may be regarded as proved by the letters of Sir J. Simpson and other eminent
physicians to Dr. Hanna (Last day of Our Lord's Passion, pp. 333 — 343), as well
as by the book of Dr. Stroud, On the Physical Cause of the Death of Christ.

656 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

CHAPTER LXII.
THE RESURRECTION.
" Necesse est pauca dicamus de Christo ut Deo." 45B — Tekt. Apdlog. 21.
At the moment when Christ died, nothing could have seemed
more abjectly weak, more pitifully hopeless, more absolutely doomed
to scorn, and extinction, and despair, than the Church which he had
founded. It numbered but a handful of weak followers, of which
the boldest had denied his Lord with blasphemy, and the most
devoted had forsaken Him and fled. They were poor, they were
ignorant, they were hopeless. They could not claim a single syna
gogue or a single sword. If they spoke their own language, it
bewrayed them by its mongrel dialect ; if they spoke the current
Greek, it was despised as a miserable patois. So feeble were they
and insignificant, that it would have looked like foolish partiality to
prophesy for them the limited existence of a Galikean sect. How
' was it that these dull and ignorant men, with their cross of wood,
triumphed over the deadly fascinations of sensual mythologies, con
quered kings and their armies, and overcame the world ?
What was it that thus caused strength to be made perfect out of
abject weakness ? There is one, and one only possible answer — the
resurrection from the dead. All this vast revolution was due to the
power of Christ's resurrection. " H we measure what seemed to be
the hopeless ignominy of the catastrophe by which His work was
ended, and the Divine prerogatives which are claimed for Him, not
in spite of, but in consequence of that suffering and shame, we shall
feel the utter hopelessness of reconciling the fact, and that triumph
ant deduction from it, without some intervening fact as certain as
Christ's passion, and glorious enough to transfigure its sorrow." '
1 Westcott, Gospel of the Resurrection, p. 111. He adds : " If Christ did not rise,
we have not only to explain how the belief in his resurrection came to be received
without any previous hopes which could lead to its reception, but alBO how it
came to be received with that intensity of personal conviction which could invest
the life and person of Christ with attributes never before assigned to any one, and
that by Jews who had been reared in the strictest monotheism " (p. 112).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 657
The sun was now on the edge of the horizon, and the Sabbath day
was near. And " that Sabbath day was a high day," a Sabbath of
peculiar splendor and solemnity, because it was at once a Sabbath
and a Passover.1 The Jews had taken every precaution to prevent
the ceremonial pollution of a day so sacred, and were anxious that
immediately after the death of the victims had been secured, their
bodies should be taken from the cross. About the sepulture they
did not trouble themselves, leaving it to the chance good offices of
friends and relatives to huddle the malefactors into their nameless
graves. The dead body of Jesus was left hanging till the last,
because a person who could not easily be slighted had gone to obtain
leave from Pilate to dispose of it as he wished.
This was Joseph of Arimathsea," a rich man, of high character
and blameless life, and a distinguished member of the Sanhedrin.
Although timidity of disposition, or weakness of faith, had hitherto
prevented him from openly declaring his belief in Jesus, yet he had
abstained from sharing in the vote of the Sanhedrin, or countenanc
ing their crime. And now sorrow and indignation inspired him with
courage. Since it was too late to declare his sympathy for Jesus as
a living Prophet, he would at least give a sign of his devotion to
Him as the martyred victim of a wicked conspiracy. Flinging
secrecy and caution to the winds, he no sooner saw that the cross on
Golgotha now bore a lifeless burden, than he went to Pilate on the
very evening of the crucifixion, and begged that the dead body might
be given him. Although the Romans left their crucified slaves to be
devoured by dogs and ravens, Pilate had no difficulty in sanctioning
the more humane and reverent custom of the Jews, which required,
even in' extreme cases, the burial of the dead." He was, however,
amazed at the speediness with which death had supervened, and send
ing for the centurion, asked whether it had taken place sufficiently
1 John xix. 31 ; Deut. xxi. 22, 23 ; Lev. xxiii. 7.
2 Arimathsea, or Rama, is a place of uncertain site ; it may be Rama in Benjamin
(Matt. ii. 18), or Ramathaim in Ephraim (1 Sam. i. 1), but certainly is not Ramleh
in Dan.
3 For the Greek and Roman custom, see Herod, iii. 12 ; Cic. Tusc. Q. i. 43 ; Plaut.
Mil. Glor. ii. 4, 19 ; Hor. Ep. i. 16, 48, &c. ; Suet. Ner. 49; Juv. Sat. xiv. 77. For
the Jewish, Deut. xxi. 23 ; Josh. viii. 29 ; Jos. Antt. iv. 8, § 24; Mark vi. 29 ; Acts
viii. 2. The request of Joseph was not, however, without danger, and in later
martyrdoms such a request cost men their lives, as was the case with the martyr
Porphyrios. Pilate might, perhaps, have exacted a bribe (cf. Acts xxiv. 26 ; Plut.
Galb. 28), but apparently did not do so, because the care of the Jews for burial was
well known, and any violation of this usage would have been resented (J.qs. B. J.
iv 5, §2). 83

658 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
long to distinguish it from a faint or swoon.1 On ascertaining that
such was the fact, he at once assigned the body, doubtless with some
real satisfaction, to the care of this " honorable councillor." With
out wasting a moment, Joseph purchased a long piece of fine linen,"
and took the body from its cross. Meanwhile the force of his exam
ple had helped to waken a kindred feeling in the soul of the candid
but fearful Nicodemus. If, as seems extremely probable, he be
identical with the Nakdimon Ben Gorion of the Talmud, he was a
man of enormous wealth ; 3 and however much he had held back dur
ing the life of Jesus, now, on the evening of His death, his heart
was filled with a gush of compassion and remorse, and he hurried to
His cross and burial with an offering of truly royal munificence. The
faith which had once required the curtain of darkness, can now ven
ture at least into the light of sunset, and, brightened finally into noon
day confidence. Thanks to this glow of kindling sorrow and com
passion in the hearts of these two noble and wealthy disciples, He
who died as a malefactor, was buried as a king. " He made His
grave with the wicked, and with the rich in His death." The fine
linen (sinddn) which Joseph had purchased was richly spread with
the hundred litras of myrrh and perfumed aloe-wood which Nicode
mus had brought,4 and the lacerated body — whose divinely-human
spirit was now in the calm of its sabbath rest in the Paradise of
God — was thus carried to its loved and peaceful grave.
Close by the place of crucifixion — if not an actual part of it" —
1 Such seems to be the significance of si itdXai ditsBavsv 456 in Mark xv. 44.
The Martyrblogies tell us that Victorinus, crucified head-downwards, lived for
three days, and Paulinus and Macra for nine ; but we canndt be sure of these facts.
The average time of survival in the case of a healthy man seems to have been
thirty-six hours ; without cold, exposure, &c, the ordinary course of the mortifica
tion (which caused death) would require forty-eight hours.
2 Another clear indication, even in the Synoptists, that this Friday was not the
Passover. The sinddn was probably of white linen, such as that in which Gama
liel II. ordered himself to be buried, in order to discourage the extravagant burial
garments of the Jews. The three words used of the cerements of Jesus are divSaov
(Mark xv. 46) ; oBovia (John xix. 40) ; dovSdpiov (xx. 7) ; xsipiai is used of Laz
arus (xi. 44).
3 He and his house are said to have perished at the fall of Jerusalem ; and I have
already (p. 167) mentioned the dreadful story that his daughter, who had received
as her dower a million denarii of gold, was seen picking the grains of corn out of
the horses' dung. May not this fable point to Jewish hatred against one who in
heart at least was a Christian 1
• Even at the burial of Gamalial II. only eighty pounds of spices were burnt
by Onkelos. At Herod's funeral there had been 500 spice-bearers (Jos. Antt xvii.
8, § 8).
' ir)V Si iv rap re it op, oitov idravpaiBrj, xrjitoi 4" (John xix. 41).

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 659
/as a garden belonging to Joseph of Arimathsea, and in its enclosure
e had caused a new tomb to be hewn for himself out of the solid
jck, that he might be buried in the near precincts of the Holy City.1
'he tomb had never been used, but, in spite of the awful sacredness
diich the Jews attached to their rock-hewn sepulchres, and the sen-
Itive scrupulosity with which they shrank from all contact with a
orpse, Joseph never hesitated to give up for the body of Jesus the
ist home which he had designed for his own use. But the prepara-
ions had to be hurried, because when the sun had set the Sabbath
rould have begun. All that they could do, therefore, was to wash
lie corpse, to lay it amid the spices, to wrap the head in a white
apkin, to roll the fine linen round and round the wounded limbs,
nd to lay the body reverently in the rocky niche. Then, with the
nited toil of several men, they rolled a gdlal, or great stone, to the
orizontal aperture ; and scarcely had they accomplished this when,
s the sun sank behind the hills of Jerusalem, the new Sabbath
awned." Mary of Magdala, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, had
eated themselves in the garden to mark well the place of sepulture,
nd other Galilsean women had also noticed the spot, and had
mrried home to prepare fresh spices and ointments before the Sabr
lath began, that they might hasten back early on the morning of
Sunday, and complete that embalming of the body, which Joseph
nd Nicodemus had only hastily begun. They spent in quiet that
aiserable Sabbath, which, for the broken hearts of all who loved
"esus, was a Sabbath of anguish and despair.
But the enemies of Christ were not so inactive. The awful mis
giving of guilty consciences was not removed even by His death
Lpon the cross. They recalled, with dreadful reminiscence, the
umored prophecies of His resurrection — the sign of the prophet
bnah, which He had said would alone be given them ' — the great
tterance about the destroyed Temple, which He would in three
lays raise up; and these intimations, which were but dim to a
rushed and wavering faith, were read, like fiery letters upon the
rail, by the illuminating glare of an uneasy guilt. Pretending,
tierefore, to be afraid lest His body should be stolen by His disciples
or purposes of imposture, they begged that, until the third day, the

1 The circuit of Jerusalem is one great graveyard, and such tombs may be seen
1 Judaea by hundreds.
2 Luke xxiii. 54. It was not unusual among the Jews to regard the sunset of
'riday as the dawn of their Sabbath, and to give it the name of "nN.
8 Matt. xii. 39.

660 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
tomb might be securely guarded. Pilate gave them a brief and
haughty permission to do anything they liked ; ¦ for — apparently in
the evening, when the great Paschal Sabbath was over — they sent
their guard to seal the gdlal, and to watch the sepulchre.
Night passed, and before the faint streak of dawn began to silver
the darkness of that first great Easterday," the passionate love of those
women, who had lingered latest by the cross, made them also the
earliest at the tomb. Carrying with them their precious spices, but
knowing nothing of the watch or seal, they anxiously inquired among
themselves, as they groped their way with sad and timid steps through
the glimmering darkness, "Who should roll away for them the
great stone which closed the sepulchre?" The two Marys were
foremost of this little devoted band, and after them came Salome
and Joanna.3 They found their difficulty solved for them. It
became known then, or afterwards, that some dazzling angelic vision
in white robes had terrified the keepers of the tomb, and had rolled
the stone from the tomb amid the shocks of earthquake. And as
they came to the tomb, there they too saw angels in white ap
parel, who bade them hasten back to the Apostles, and tell them —
and especially Peter — that Christ, according to His own word, had
risen from the dead, and would go before them, like a shepherd, into
their own beloved and native Galilee. They hurried back in a
tumult of rapture and alarm, telling no one except the disciples ; and
even to the disciples their words sounded like an idle tale. But Mary
. of Magdala, who seems to have received a separate and special inti
mation, hastened at once to Peter and John.4 No sooner had they
1 e'xere xovdrmSiav4ii can hardly be an imperative. It has usually been
referred to some soldiers who may possibly have been lent to the Jews to act as a
sort of police during the great Paschal gathering. The context seems to preclude
the notion of the " guard " being composed of the Temple watchmen.
• Those who think it right or fair to find and to press " discrepancies " between
writers who simply say the truth to the best of their power in the ordinary lan
guage of common life, may find such a discrepancy between the dxori'ai ett
ovd?fi4ss of John xx. 1, and the dvarsiXavroi rov $Xiovm of Mark xvi. 2.
But such criticism scarcely deserves serious notice. I have endeavored through
out the narrative silently to show the perfect possible coherence and truthful sim
plicity of the fragmentary Gospel accounts. More than this is neither possible
nor necessary. I do not hold the mechanical view of inspiration advocated in
Gaussen's Theopneustia ; but he at least shows how simply these supposed " dis
crepancies " are accounted for, and how perfectly harmless are the assaults on
Christian faith which take them as a basis (Theopn. 218 — 229, E. Tr.).
* Mark xvi. 1 — 7, compared (throughout the paragraph) with John xx. 1 ; Luke
xxiv. 1—10 ; Matt, xxviii. 1—7.
4 Any one who will attentively read side by side the narratives of these appear
ances on the first day of the resurrection, will see that they have only been pre-

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 661
received this startling news than they rose to see with their own eyes
what had happened. John outstripped in speed his elder companion,
and arriving first, stooped down, and gazed in silent wonder into that
open grave. The grave was empty, and the linen cerements were
lying neatly folded each in its proper place. Then Peter came up, and
with his usual impetuosity, heedless of ceremonial pollution, and? of
every consideration but his love and his astonishment, plunged
into the sepulchre. John followed him, and saw, and believed ; and
the two Apostles took back the undoubted certainty to their wonder
ing brethren.1 In spite of fear, and anxiety, and that dull intelli
gence which, by their own confession, was so slow to realize the truths
they had been taught, there dawned upon them, even then, the trem
bling hope, which was so rapidly to become the absolute conviction,

served for us in general, interblended and scattered notices (see Matt, xxviii. 16 ;
Luke xxiv. 34 ; Acts i. 3), which, in strict exactness, render it impossible, without
many arbitrary suppositions, to produce from them » certain narrative of the
order of events. The lacunae, the compressions, the variations, the actual differ
ences, the subjectivity of the narrators as affected by spiritual revelations, render
all harmonies at the best Uncertain. Our belief in the Resurrection, as an historic
fact, as absolutely well attested to us by subsequent and contemporary circum
stances as any other event in history, rests on grounds far deeper, wider, more
spiritual, more eternal, than can be shaken by divergences of which we can only
say that they are not necessarily contradictions, but of which the true solution is
no longer attainable Hence the " ten discrepancies " which have been dwelt on
since the days of Celsus, have never for one hour shaken the faith of Christen
dom. The phenomena presented by the narratives are exactly such as we should
expect, derived as they are from different witnesses, preserved at first in oral tra
dition only, and written 1,800 years ago at a period when minute circumstantial
accuracy, as distinguished from perfect truthfulness, was little regarded. St.
Paul, surely no imbecile or credulous enthusiast, vouches, both for the reality of
the appearances, and also for the fact that the vision by which he was himself
converted came, at a long interval after thp rest, to him as " to the abortive-bom "
of the Apostolic family (1 Cor. xv. 4 — 8). If the narratives of Christ's appearance
to his disciples were inventions, how came they to possess the severe and simple
character which shows no tinge of religious excitement ? If those appearances
were purely subjective, how can we account for their sudden, rapid, and total
cessation ? As Lange finely says, the great fugue of the first Easter tidings has
not come to us as a " monotonous chorale," and mere boyish verbal criticism can
not understand the common feeling and harmony which inspire the individual
vibrations of those enthusiastic and multitudinous voices (v. 61). Professor West
cott, with his usual profundity and insight, points out the differences of purpose
in the narrative of the four Evangelists. St. Matthew dwells chiefly on the
majesty and glory of the Resurrection ; St. Mark, both in the original part and
in the addition (Mark xvi. 9—20), insists upon it as a fact ; St. Luke, as a spirit
ual necessity ; St. John, as a touchstone of character (Introd. 310 — 315).
1 Compare the exactly similar feature in the character of the two Apostles, in '
John xxi. 7.

662 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
that Christ had risen indeed. That on that morning the grave of
Christ was untenanted — that His body had not been removed by
His enemies — that its absence caused to His disciples the prof ound-
est amazement, not unmingled, in the breasts of some of them, with
sorrow and alarm1 — that they subsequently became convinced, by
repeated proofs, that He had indeed risen from the dead — that for
the truth of this belief they were ready at all times themselves to
die — that the belief effected a profound and total change in their
character, making the timid courageous, and the weak irresistible —
that they were incapable of a conscious falsehood, and that, even
if it had not been so, a conscious falsehood could never have had
power to convince the disbelief and regenerate the morality of the
world — that on this belief of the resurrection were built the still-
universal observance of the first day of the week, and the entire
foundations of the Christian Church — 'these, at any rate, are facts
which even scepticism itself, if it desires to be candid, can hardly
fail, however reluctantly and slowly, to admit.
But as yet no eye had seen Him; and to Mary of Magdala — to
her who loved most because she had been forgiven most, and out
of whose soul, now ardent as flame and clear as crystal, He had
cast seven devils — was this glorious honor first vouchsafed." Even
the vision of angels had not soothed the passion of agitation and
alarm which she experienced when, returning once more to the tomb,
she found that it was no longer possible for her to pay the last
offices of devotion and tenderness to the crucified body of her Lord.
From her impassioned soul not even the white-robed visions and
angel voices could expel the anguish which she experienced in the
one haunting thought, " They have taken away my Lord out of the
sepulchre, and I know not where they have laid Him." With her
.  .  . — . 
1 And that (as the Evangelists honestly admit), in spite of such repeated fore-
warnings that it should be so, as we find in John ii. 18 — 22 ; vi. 61 — 64 ; x. 17, 18;
xiii. 31 ; Matt. xii. 38—42 ; xvi. 13—27 ; xvii. 1—9 ; xxvi. 63, 64 ; Mark ix. 30—32 ;
x. 32 — 34; Luke ix. 43 — 45. It is, of course, true that they themselves may not
have heard all of these predictions, but they had heard enough to cause our
Lord's exclamation no avor/rot xai jSpaSeii rrj xapSia rov itidrsvsiv 461 (Luke
xxiv. 25).
2 John xx. 11 — 18. [Mark xvi. 9 — 20 is canonical, but almost certainly unau
thentic. It is omitted in K, B, and in the Armenian Version. In L it is greatly
altered, and in some MSS. it is marked with asterisks. Eusebius and Jerome
testify to its general absence from the Greek MSS. If this external evidence be
insufilcient against the authority of A, C, D, Irenseus and Hippolytus, yet the
internal evidence seems to be decisive — take, for instance, the fact, that in this
short section itopevopai4m occurs three times, Bedouai 46S twice, and 6 Kvpioi 4M
twice, though not found elsewhere in St. Mark.]

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 663
whole heart absorbed in this thought she turned away — and lo I
Jesus Himself standing before her. It was Jesus, but not as she
had known Him. There was something spiritual, something not of
earth, in that risen and glorified body. Some accident of dress, or
appearance, made her fancy that it was the keeper of the garden,
and in the eager hope that he can explain to her the secret of that
empty and angel-haunted grave, she exclaims to Him in an agony of
appeal — turning her head aside as she addressed Him, perhaps that
she might hide her streaming tears — "Oh, sir, if you took Him
away-, tell me where you put Him, and I will take Him."
Jesus saith to her, " Mary ! "
That one word, in those awful yet tender tones of voice, at once
penetrated to her heart. Turning towards Him, trying apparently
to clasp TTih feet or the hem of His garment, she cried to Him in
her native Aramaic, "Rabboni!" "Oh, my Master!" and then
remained speechless with her transport. Jesus Himself gently
checked the passion of her enthusiasm. " Cling not to Me," 1 He
exclaimed, " for not yet have I ascended to the Father ; but go to
My brethren, and say to them, I am ascending to My Father and
your Father, and My God and your God." Awe-struck, she has
tened to obey. She repeated to them that solemn message — and
through all future ages has thrilled that first utterance, which made
on the minds of those who heard it so indelible an impression — "I
HAVE SEEN THE LORD ! "
2. Nor was her testimony unsupported. Jesus met the other
women also, and said to them, " All hail ! " Terror mingled with
their emotion, as they clasped His feet. " Fear not," He said to
them ; " go, bid My brethren that they depart into Galilee, and there
shall they see Me." "
It was useless for the guards to stay beside an empty grave. With
1 John xx. 17, Mi} pov ditrov. Although dipadBai is used of the woman who
touched the hem of Christ's garment (Matt. it. 20), yet the "Noli me tangere,"
" Touch me not," conveys quite a false impression. It meant that the day for
personal, physical presence, for merely human affection, for the grasp of human
tenderness, was over now. Henceforth He was to be with His people more nearly,
more intimately, because in spirit. " Prohibitum tangere Dominum ; non eum
corporali tactu Dominum, sed fide tangimus " 465 (Ambr.). The " for " is one of St.
John's difficult causal connections, which seem to be dictated far more by the
syllogism of emotion than by formal grammar. Perhaps it implies, " Be not
clinging to me, for this is but a brief interval between my former close physical
society with you, and my future spiritual union." For the rov itaripa fiov xai
itaripa vpadv,iss x. r. X., see Pearson On the Creed, p. 42.
2 Matt, xxviii. 9, 10. Matthew alone mentions this adoration. The itpodxvvij-
davrsi avrov 461 of Luke xxiv. 52 are omitted in some good MSS.

664 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
fear for the consequences, and horror at all that they had seen, they
fled to the members of the Sanhedrin who had given them their secret
commission. To these hardened hearts belief and investigation were
alike out of the question. Their only refuge seemed to be in lies.
They instantly tried to hush up the whole matter. They suggested
to the soldiers that they must have slept, and that while they did so
the disciples had stolen the body of Jesus.1 But such a tale was too ¦
infamous for credence, and too ridiculous for publicity. If it became
known, nothing could have saved these soldiers, supposing them to
have been Romans, from disgrace and execution. The Sadducees
therefore bribed the men to consult their common interests by bury
ing the whole matter in secrecy and silence. It was only gradually
and later, and to the initiated, that the base calumny was spread.
Within six weeks of the resurrection, that great event was the un
shaken faith of every Christian ; within a few years of the event the
palpable historic proofs of it and the numerous testimonies of its
reality — strengthened by a memorable vision vouchsafed to himself
— had won assent from the .acute and noble intellect of a young
Pharisaic zealot and persecutor whose name was Saul." But it was
only in posthumous and subterranean whispers that the dark false
hood was disseminated which was intended to counteract this over
whelming evidence. St. Matthew says that when he wrote his Gos
pel it was still commonly bruited among the Jews. It continued to
be received among them for centuries, and is one of tbe blaspheming
follies which was repeated and amplified twelve centuries afterwards
in the Tolddth Jeshu.3
3. The third appearance of Jesus was to Peter. The details of it
are wholly unknown to us.4 They may have been of a nature too
personal to have been revealed. The fact rests on the express testi
mony of St. Luke and of St. -Paul.
4. On the same day the Lord's fourth appearance was accompanied
with circumstances of the deepest interest. Two of the disciples were

1 Matt, xxviii. 11 — 15. Those who are shocked at this suggested possibility of
deceit on the part of a few hard, worldly and infatuated Sanhedrists, do not shrink
from insinuating that the faith of Christendom was founded on most facile and
reprehensible credulity, almost amounting to conscious deception , by men who
died for the truth of what they asserted, and who have taught the spirit of truth
fulness as a primary duty of the religion which they preached.
2 Rom. vi. 4 ; Eph. i. 20 ; Gal. i. 1 ; 1 Cor. xv. 4—8, &e. The latter is the earliest
written allusion to the resurrection (A. D. 54).
' Eisenmenger, Entdecktes Judenthum, i. 189.
4 Luke xxiv. 34 ; 1 Cor. xv. 5.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 665
on their way to a village named Emmaus,1 of uncertain site, but about
eight miles from Jerusalem, and were discoursing with sad and anxious
hearts on the awful incidents of the last two days, when a Stranger
joined them, and asked them the cause of their clouded looks and
anxious words. They stopped, and looked at this unknown traveller
with a dubious and unfriendly glance ; " and when one of the two,
whose name was Cleopas,3 spoke in reply, there is a touch of surprise
and suspicion in the answer which he ventured to give. " Dost thou
five alone as a stranger in Jerusalem, and dost thou not know what
things happened there in these last days ? " " What things ? " He
asked them. Then they told Him how all their yearning hopes that
Jesus had been the great Prophet who should redeem His people had
been dashed to the earth, and how all His mighty deeds before God
and the people had ended two days back on the shameful cross. They
described the feeling of amazement with which, on this the third day,
they had heard the women's rumors of angel visions, and the certain
testimony of some of their brethren that the tomb was empty now.
"But," added the speaker with a sigh -of incredulity and sorrow —
" but Him they saw not. "
Then reproaching them with the dulness of their intelligence and
their affections, the Stranger showed them how through all the Old
Testament from Moses onwards there was one long prophecy of the
sufferings no less than of the glory of Christ. In such high converse
they drew near to Emmaus, and the Stranger seemed to be going
onwards, but they pressed Him to stay, and as they sat down to their
simple meal, and He blessed and brake the bread, suddenly their eyes
were opened, and in spite of the altered form,4 they recognized that
1 Emmaus can hardly be Aniw&s (Nicopolis), which is 160 stades (about twenty-
two miles) from Jerusalem, even if, with a few bad MSS., we read ixardv e&j-
xovra 468 in Luke xxiv. 13. The name means " warm springs." Culonieh (see Jos.
B. J. vii. 6, § 6) seems to be a more likely site, but nothing whatever depends on
the identification of a locality so incidentally alluded to.
2 Luke xxiv. 13—35, verse 17, xai idrdBrjdav dxvBpaoitoim (K, A, B, L, and
various versions, &c). This, as well as the somewhat emphatic answer of Cleopas,
shows that they were not quite at their ease at the Stranger's intervention. After
the recent events such caution was very natural.
3 If, as Keim, &c, suppose, the story is mythic, &c, why was so obscure a name
as Cleopas chosen to authenticate it ? and why was the other disciple left name
less? Would it not have been just as easy to select two of the most prominent
Apostles ? It is a mere assumption that Cleopas (or Cleopater) was the same as
Clopas, or Alphseus.
4 Mark xvi. 12, itpavspaoBij iv kripct popcpp.4m It must be remembered
that the Appendix to this Gospel (xvi. 9—20), though not genuine, has every
claim to our respect. Mr. Burgon's elaborate vindication of these verses (Lond.
84

666 TEE LIFE 0F CHRIST.
He who was with them was the Lord. But even as they recognized
Him, He was with them no longer. " Did not our heart burn within
us, " they exclaimed to each other, " while He was speaking with us
in the way, while He was opening to us the Scriptures?" Rising
instantly, they returned to Jerusalem with the strange and joyous
tidings. They found no dubious listeners now. They, too, were
received with the rapturous affirmation, " The Lord is risen indeed,
and hath appeared unto Simon ! "
5. Once more, for the fifth time on that eternally memorable
Easter day, Jesus manifested Himself to His disciples. Ten of
them were sitting together, with doors closed for fear of the Jews.
As they exchanged and discussed their happy intelligence, Jesus
Himself stood in the midst of them,, with the words, " Peace be with
you. " The unwonted aspect of that glorified body — the awful sig
nificance of the fact that He had risen from the dead — scared and
frightened them.1 The presence of their Lord was indeed corporeal,
but it was changed. They thought that it was a spirit which was
standing before them. "Why are ye troubled?" He asked, "and
why do anxious doubts rise in your hearts ? See my hands and my
feet, that it is I ; handle me, and see ; for a spirit hath not flesh and
bones as ye see me have." Even while He spoke He showed
them His hands and His side. And then, while joy, amazement,
incredulity, were all struggling in their hearts, He asked them if they
had there anything to eat ; and yet further to assure them, ate a piece
of broiled fish in their presence." Then once more He said, " Peace
be unto you. As my Father hath sent me, even so send I you. "
Breathing on them, He said, " Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose
soever sins ye remit, they are remitted to them ; whosesoever sins ye
retain, they are retained. " *
6. One only of the Apostles had been absent — Thomas the Twin.
1871) is quite unconvincing (see Mr. Hort's remarks in the Academy, Nov. 15,
1871). 1 Ignatius (ad Bmyrn). Jesus uses the words, ovx Eipi Saipoviov ddoo-
parov."2 Some, from the mention of ddpxa xai ddria 4'2 (Luke xxiv. 39)
without alpa 413 which was the sign of the ibvxr), or " animal life "), have per
haps too rashly and literally inferred that the resurrection-body was bloodless.
In a very curious translated fragment of Clemens Alexandrinus on John i. 1, a
tradition is mentioned that St. John, touching the body, found no substance
there ; his hand passed through it (quoted by Keim, III. ii. 568).
2 The words xai dito peXiddiov xrjpiov4"14 (omitted in K, A, B, D, &c.) are of
dubious authenticity.
8 The perfects dgoiaovrai, xexpdrrfvrai, imply permanence of result. On
this commission, see supra, pp. 372 — 374.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 667
His character, as we have seen already, was affectionate, but melan
choly. To him the news seemed too good to be true. In vain did
the other disciples assure him, " We have seen the Lord. " Happily
for us, though less happily for him, he declared with strong assevera
tion that nothing would convince him, short of actually putting his
own finger into the print of the nails, and his hands into His side.
A week passed, and the faithfully-recorded doubts of the anxious
Apostle remained unsatisfied. On the eighth, or, as we should say,
on the seventh day afterwards1 — for already the resurrection had
made the first day of the week sacred to the hearts of the Apostles —
the eleven were again assembled within closed doors. Once more
Jesus appeared to them, and after His usual gentle and solemn bless
ing, called Thomas, and bade him stretch forth his finger, and put it
in the print of the nails, and to thrust his hand into the spear-wound
of His side, and to be " not faithless, but believing. " " My Lord
and my God ! " exclaimed the incredulous Apostle, with a burst of
conviction. " Because thou hast seen Me, " said Jesus, " thou hast
believed ; blessed are they who saw not -and yet believed. "
7. The next appearance of the risen Saviour was to seven of the
Apostles by the Sea of Galilee — Simon, Thomas, Nathanael, the sons
of Zebedee, and two others — not improbably Philip and Andrew —
who are not named." A pause had occurred in the visits of Jesus,
and before they returned to Jerusalem at Pentecost to receive the
promised outpouring of the Spirit, Simon said that he should resume
for the day his old trade of a fisherman. There was no longer a com
mon purse, and as their means of subsistence were gone, this seemed
to be the only obvious way of obtaining an honest maintenance.
The others proposed to join him, and they set sail in the evening
because night is the best time for fishing. All night they toiled in
vain. At early dawn, in the misty twilight, there stood on the shore
the figure of One whom they did not recognize. A voice asked them
if they had caught anything. " No " was the despondent answer.
" Fling your net to the right side of the vessel, and ye shall find. "
They made the cast, and instantly were scarcely able to draw the net
from the multitude of fishes. The incident awoke, with overwhelm
ing force, the memory of earlier days. " It is the Lord, " whispered
' Why did they not go to Galilee immediately on receiving our Lord's message ?
The circumstance is unexplained, for the identification of Galilee with the peak
of the Mount of Olives — now called Viri Galilaei, from Acts. i. 11 — is wholly
absurd. Perhaps the entire message of Jesus to them is not recorded ; perhaps
they awaited the end of the feast.
2 John xxi. 1—24.

668 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
John to Peter ; and instantly the warm-hearted enthusiast, tightening
his fisher's tunic l round his loins, leaped into the sea, to swim across
the hundred yards which separated him from Jesus, and cast himself,
all wet from the waves, before His feet. More slowly the others fol
lowed, dragging the strained but unbroken net, with its 153 fishes.
A wood fire was burning on the strand, some bread lay beside it, and
some fish were being broiled on the glowing ember's. It is a sight
which may often be seen to this day by the shores of Galilee. And
He who stood beside it bade them bring more fish of those which
they had caught. Instantly Simon started up, and helped with his
strong arm to drag the net ashore. And He whom they all knew to
be the Lord, but whose voice and aspect made their hearts so still with
awful reverence that they dared not question Him, bade them " Come
and breakfast, " and distributed to them the bread and fish.
The happy meal ended in silence, and then Jesus said to His weak
but fond Apostle, " Simon " — (it was no time as yet to restore to him
the name of Peter) — " Simon, son of Jonas, honorest thou Me more
than these?"
" Yea, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee. "
" Feed My little lambs. "
Simon had felt in his inmost heart what was meant by that kind
rebuke — "more than these." It called back to his penitent soul
those boastful words, uttered so confidently among his brethren,
" Although all shall be offended, yet will not I. " Failure had taught
him humility, and therefore he will neither claim a pre-eminence in
affection, nor adopt the word of the. Saviour's question (aymcai),
which involved deep honor and devotion and esteem; but will
substitute for it that weaker word, which yet best expressed the warm
human affection of his heart. And the next time the question
reminded him less painfully of his old self-confidence, for Jesus said
to him only —
" Simon, son of Jonas, honorest thou Me ? "
Again the Apostle humbly answered in the same words as be
fore —
" Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee. "
"Tend my sheep.""
But Simon had thrice denied, and therefore it was fitting that he
should thrice confess. Again, after a brief pause, came the ques-

1 Perhaps the iitevSvr?/i is only a subligaculum(;Uj'ot>V n ofloVzoj'Theophyl.).
It is very common in the East to work naked, or. with nothing but a cloth round
the waist.
2 John xxi. 16. The verb is itoipaive, not /36dxs.

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 669
tion — and this time with the weaker but warmer word which the
Apostle himself had chosen —
" Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me ? "
And Simon, deeply humbled and distressed, exclaimed, "Lord,
Thou knowest all things ; Thou seest that I love Thee. " '
" Feed My beloved sheep. " " Then very solemnly He added,
" Yerily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast younger thou didst
gird thyself, and walk where thou wouldest ; but when thou art old
thou shalt stretch out thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and shall
lead thee where thou wiliest not. "
The Apostle understood Him ; he knew that this implied the years
of his future service, the pangs of his future martyrdom ; but now he
was no longer "Simon," but "Peter" — :the heart of rock was in
him ; he was ready, even to the death, to obey the voice which said
to him, " Follow Me. " While the conversation had been taking
place he had been walking by the side of Jesus, a few steps in front
of his comrades. Looking back he saw John, his only favorite
companion, and the disciple whom Jesus loved, slowly following
them. Pointing to him, he asked, " Lord, and what shall he do ? "
The answer checked the spirit of idle curiosity — "If I will that he
tarry till I come, what is that to thee ? Follow thou Me. " Peter
dared ask no more, and the answer — which was intentionally
vague — led to the wide misapprehension prevalent in the early Church,
that John was not to die until Jesus came. The Apostle quietly cor
rects the error by quoting the exact words of the risen Christ. The
manner of his death we do not know, but we know that he outlived
all his brother disciples, and that he survived that terrible overthrow
of his nation which, since it rendered impossible a strict obedience to
the institutions of the Old Covenant, and opened throughout the
world an unimpeded path for the establishment of the New Com
mandment and the Kingdom not of earth, was — in a sense more
true than any other event in human history — a second coming of
the Lord.
8. It may have been on this occasion that Jesus told His disciples of
the mountain in Galilee, where He would meet all who knew and
loved Him for the last time. Whether it was Tabor, or the Mountain
of Beatitudes, we do not know, but more than five hundred of His
disciples collected at the given time with the eleven, and received
from Jesus His last commands, to teach and baptize throughout all

1 Verse 17, oiSai . . . yivaodxEii.
2 John xxi. 17, itpvfidna (A, B, C).

670 THE1 LIFE OF CHRIST.
nations ; and the last promise, that He would be with them always,
even to the end of the world.1 Writing more than twenty years after
this time, St. Paul gives us the remarkable testimony, that the greater
number of these eye-witnesses of the resurrection were yet alive, and
that some only were " fallen asleep. "
9. A ninth appearance of Jesus is unrecorded in the Gospels, and
is known to us from a single allusion in St. Paul alone. " I delivered
unto you, " he writes to the Corinthians," " that which also I received,
how that Christ died for our sins, according to the Scriptures ; and
that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day, according
to the Scriptures: and that He was seen of Cephas, then of the
Twelve : after that, he was seen of above five hundred brethren at
once: .... after that, He was seen of James; then of all the
Apostles. And last of all He appeared to me also, as to the abortive-
born (of the Apostolic family)." Respecting this appearance to
James, we know nothing further, unless there be any basis of true
tradition in the story preserved to us in the Gospel of the Hebrews.
We are there told that James^ the first Bishop of Jerusalem, and the
Lord's brother,3 had, after the Last Supper, taken a solemn vow that
he would neither eat nor drink until he had seen Jesus risen from the
dead. Early, therefore, after His resurrection, Jesus, after He had
given the sinddn to the servant of the priest, had a table with bread
brought out, blessed the bread, and gave it to James, with the words,
" Eat thy bread now, my brother, since the Son of Man has risen from
the dead. " *
10. Forty days had now elapsed since the Crucifixion. During
those forty days nine times had He been visibly present to human
eyes, and had been touched by human hands. But His body had
not been merely the human body, nor liable to merely human laws,
nor had He lived during those days the life of men. The time had
now come when His earthly presence should be taken away from
1 The oi Si iSidradav of Matt, xxviii. 17, can only mean "but some doubted"
— not, as Wetstein and others take it, whether they should worship or not, but
respecting the whole scene. All may not have stood near to Him, and even if they
did, we have seen in four previous instances (Matt, xxviii. 17; Luke xxiv. 16 ;
id. 37 ; John xxi. 4) that there was something unusual and not instantly recog
nizable in his resurrection body. At any rate, here we have another inestimable
proof of the candor of the Evangelists, for there is nothing to be said in favor of
the conjectural emendation ovSi. " Dubitatum est ab illis," says St. Leo, " ne
dubitaretur a nobis " 4n (Serm. Ixxi., ap. Wordsw. in loc).
2 1 Cor. xv. 3—8.
' Or it may possibly have been James the son of Zebedee.
4 Jer. De Vvris Illustr. ii. The allusion to the sinddn is curious. See Excursus
XV., " Traditional Sayings of Christ."

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. 671
them for ever, until He returned in glory to judge the world. He
met them in Jerusalem, and. as He led them with Him towards
Bethany,1 He bade them wait in the Holy City until they had
received the promise of the Spirit. He checked their eager inquiry
about the times and the seasons, and bade them be His witnesses in all
.the world. These last farewells must have been uttered in some of
the wild secluded upland country that surrounds the little village ; "
and when they were over, He lifted up His hands and blessed them,
and, even as He blessed them, was parted from them, and as He
passed from before their yearning eyes " a cloud received Him out
of their sight. "
Between us and His visible presence — between us and that glori
fied Redeemer who now sitteth at the right hand of God — that cloud
still rolls. But the eye of Faith can pierce it ; the incense of true
prayer can rise above it ; through it the dew of blessing can descend.
And if He is gone away, yet He has given us in His Holy Spirit a
nearer sense of His presence, a closer infolding in the arms of His
tenderness, than we could have enjoyed even if we had lived with
Him of old in the home of Nazareth, or sailed with Him in the little
boat over the crystal waters of Gennesareth. We may be as near
to Him at all times — and more than all when we kneel down to
pray — as the beloved disciple was when he laid his head upon His
breast. The word of God is very nigh us, even in our mouths and
in our hearts. To ears that have been closed His voice may seem
indeed to sound no longer. The loud noises of War may shake the
world ; the eager calls of Avarice and of Pleasure may drown the
gentle utterance which bids us " Follow Me ; " after two thousand
years of Christianity the incredulous murmurs of an impatient scep
ticism may make it scarcely possible for Faith to repeat, without
insult, the creed which has been the regeneration of the world.
Ay, and sadder even than this, every now and then may be heard,
even in Christian England, the insolence of some blaspheming tongue
which still scoffs at the Son of God as He lies in the agony of the
garden, or breathes His last sigh upon the bitter tree. But the secret
of the Lord is with them that fear Him, and He will show them His

1 Luke xxiv. 50. The best reading seems to be saoi itpdi BrjBaviav (K, B, C,
L, &c).
2 *' It was solitude and retirement in which Jesus kept His vigils : the desert
places heard him pray ; in a privacy He was born ; in the wilderness He fed His
thousands ; upon a mountain apart He was transfigured ; upon a mountain He
died ; and from a mountain He ascended to His Father " (Petr. Cell. iv. 12, quoted
by Jer. Taylor, Life of Christ, I. viii.).

672 THE LIFE OF CHRIST.
covenant. To all who will listen He still speaks. He promised to
be with us always, even to the end of the world, and we have not
found His promise fail. It was but for thirty-three short years of a
short lifetime that He lived on earth; it was but for three broken and
troubled years that He preached the Gospel of the Kingdom ; but for
ever, even until all the ^Eons have been closed, and the earth itself,
with the heavens that now are, have passed away, shall every one of
His true and faithful children find peace and hope and forgiveness
in His name, and that name shall be called Emmanuel, which is,
being interpreted, " God with us. "

APPENDIX.

EXCURSUS I. (Pages 81, 103.)
The Date of Christ's Birth.
Although the date of Christ's birth cannot lie established with absolute cer
tainty, there is yet a large amount of evidence to render it at least probable that
He was born four years before our present era. It is universally admitted that
our received chronology, which is not older than Dionysius Exiguus in the sixth
century, is wrong. I ought to say here that I have not pretended to discuss the
new theories of chronology proposed by Keim ; not only because I am not well
fitted for elaborate chronological inquiries, but because (i.) they would have
required inordinate space, and (ii.) they depend on views of the Gospels alto
gether remote from my own.
1. Our one most certain datum is obtained from the fact that Christ was born
¦ before the death of Herod the Great. The date of that event is known with
absolute certainty, for (i.) Josephus tells us ' that he died thirty-seven years after
he had been declared king by the Romans. Now it is known that he was
declared king A. U. C. 714; and therefore, since Josephus always reckons his
years from Nisan to Nisan, and counts the initial and terminal fractions of Nisan
as complete years, Herod must have died between Nisan A. U. C. 750, and Nisan
A. U. C. 751 — i. e., between B. C. 4 and B. C. 3 of our era. (ii.) Josephus says
that on the night in which Herod ordered Judas, Matthias, and their abettors to
be burnt, there was an eclipse of the moon.' Now this eclipse took place on the
night of March 12, B. C. 4 ; and Herod was dead at least seven days before the
Passover,3 which, if we accept the Jewish reckoning, fell in that year on April
12. But, according to the clear indication of the Gospels, Jesus must have been
born at least forty days before Herod's death. It is clear, therefore, that under
no circumstances can the Nativity have taken place later than February, B. C. 4.
2. The only other certain datum which we have is furnished by St. Luke, who
fixes the beginning of St. John the Baptist's preaching in the 15th year of
Tiberius, and says that, when Jesus began His ministry, He was about thirty
years old (Luke iii. 23).4
Now if the 15th year of Tiberius be dated from the death of Augustus (Aug.
19, A. U. C. 767), then Jesus was baptized A. U. C. 782 ; but since, as we have
seen, he could not have been born later than February, A. U. C. 750, this would

i Antt. xvii. 8, 8 1.
2 Id. xvii. 6, § i. Ideler, Handb. Chron. Ii. 391.
3 Id. xvii. 8, § i.
«"The rendering of the English Version, " began to be about thirty years old, for ?»
. . (Wet iray Tpid-Kovra. apxopzvos, is wholly untenable.
85

674 APPENDIX.
make Him at least thirty-two, an age inconsistent with the natural meaning of
St. Luke's expression. There is therefore good ground to believe that St. Luke
dates the year of the reign of Tiberius from his association with Augustus as
joint Emperor in A. U. C. 765,1 a method of computation which certainly existed,
and would be especially likely to prevail in the Provinces. Jesus would then
have begun His public teaching A. U. C. 780, a date which exactly agrees with
the only secure datum about the year of His birth.
All attempts to discover the month and day of the Nativity are useless. No
data whatever exist to enable us to determine them with even approximate
accuracy. The census of Quirinius, the order of the courses of priests, the cycle of lessons
in the Jewish Calendar, the consulships, &c, mentioned by Tertullian, the arrival
of the Magi, and the astrological conjunction which is supposed to have caused
their journey, the third closing by Augustus of the Temple of Janus, and other
indications which have been pressed into the service of chronology, are all too
vague to be of any use, and are only likely to lead to highly uncertain or entirely
erroneous results.
A general confirmation of the conclusion at which we have arrived may be
deduced from John ii. 20, " Forty and six years was this Temple in building."
Herod's reconstruction of the Temple began in the eighteenth year of his reign,
probably in Cisleu, A. U. C. 734. This will bring the forty-sixth year of its con
tinuance to A. U. C. 780, which we have already seen reason to regard as the
first year of Christ's ministry, and the thirtieth of his age. There is, however,
an element of doubt in this computation, owing to St. John's use of the aorist
qoxoSopijBi?, unless it be regarded as a less accurate expression for oixoSopsirai
(cf. Ezra v. 16).
The only difficulties in the data mentioned by Luke iii. 1, 2, are the mention of
Annas as High Priest, and of Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene.
1. As regards Annas, it is true that some MSS. read iiti apxispiaov, but there
is so complete a consensus of all the best MSS. (N, A, B, C, D, E,- &c.) in favor of
iiti dpxiEpiaoi, that there can be no doubt of its being the true reading. The
same expression occurs in Acts iv. 6. It will then be asked, how is it that St.
Luke calls Annas High Priest, when the office was really held by Caiaphas? The
question is sufficiently answered supra, p. 589 ; but we may here observe, (i.) that
Annas, having been merely superseded by the will of Valerius G-ratus,2 would,
by all serious-minded Jews, be still regarded as High Priest de jure, according
to the Mosaic Law (Numb. xxxv. 25). (ii.) That whether he held the office of
Sagan or of Nasi, or not, there is sufficient evidence to show that he was at this
time the most influential and powerful leader of the aristocratic, sacerdotal, and
Sadducsean party at Jerusalem, (iii.) That this leading position of Annas is
clearly recognized by Josephus (Antt. xx. 9, § 1), who, like the Evangelist, speaks
vaguely about the mere puppets of civil power who at this period became titular
High Priests in rapid succession.8

i Tac. Ann. 1, 3 ; Suet. Aug. 97; Veil. Paterc. 103.
2 Annas was High Priest A. D. 7— li, and there had been three Intermediate High
Priests — one of whom, Eleazar, was his son— before his son-in-law, Joseph Caiaphas (Jos.
Antt. xviii. 2, § 2) had been appointed In A. D. 24.
3 Tit. 38 ; B.J iv. 3. 8 9.

APPENDIX. 675
2. It used to be assumed that St. Luke had made some mistake about Lysanias.
The facts, however, seem to be, (i.) that there was a Lysanias, King of Chalcis
under Mount Lebanon, and therefore, in all probability, also tetrarch of Abilene,
in the time of Antony and Cleopatra, sixty years before the date mentioned by St.
Luke (Jos. B. J. i. 13, § 1) ; and another in the reigns of Caligula and Claudius,
twenty years after St. Luke's date (Jos. Antt. xv. 4, § 1). We know nothing cer
tain of any intermediate Lysanias, but there is nothing whatever to prove that
there may not have been one; or even that this Lysanias may not be the second
whom we have mentioned. Even Kenan admits that, after reading the inscrip
tion of Zenodorus at Baalbek, he sees less reason to suppose that the Evangelist
is in error. (" Une e"tude de l'inscription . . . m'a mend a. croire que revangel-
iste pouvait n'avoir pas aussi gravement tort que d'habiles critiques le pensent." 476
Vie de JSsus, p. xiii.) The tetrarchate of Lysanias might well serve to mark a
date, because, for a time, Abilene had been actually a part of Jewish territory,
having been assigned in A. D. 36 by Caligula to his favorite Herod Agrippa I.
For a full commentary on these chronological data of St. Luke see Wieseler,
Chron. Synops., E. Tr., pp. 157 — 175. But enough has been said to show that,
so far from the Evangelist having fallen into a demonstrable error, there is every
reason to believe that he has independently preserved an obscure historical fact.
Unless h'e had been perfectly well acquainted with the actual circumstances, it is
inconceivable that he should have introduced so minute, and apparently superflu
ous an allusion, at the risk of falling into a needless blunder.

EXCURSUS II. (Page 83.)
Christ and the Christians in the Talmud.
The name of Jesus occurs some twenty times only in unexpurgated editions of
the Talmud, the last of which appeared at Amsterdam in 1645. '
The allusions to Him are characterized by intense hatred, disguised by intense
fear. They are also marked by all the gross and reckless carelessness of these
utterly uncritical and unhistorical writers.
The Christians are usually called — partly, no doubt, to conceal the allusions to
them — pupils of Balaam, Minim (heretics), Gentiles, Nazarenes.
In Sanhedr. 43 a Jesus is said to have had five disciples: — Matthaeus; Thad
daeus; "ISJ (which clearly means "Nazarene"); Booni — apparently meant for
Nikdimon Ben Gorion (Nikodemus), or Banus; and Niki — perhaps some con
fusion of Nikolaitan.2
Our blessed Lord is called —
"That man" (cf. Acts v. 28 and 'J&B, "So and so," 6 Seiva).
"He whom we may not name."
" Ha-Notzri," i. e., " The Nazarene."
"The fool."
" The Hung " O^P). Thus Abn Ezra (on Gen. xxvii. 39) says that Constantine
put on his labarum, " a figure of the hung; " and in Ps. xxx. 14, B. Becbai says

' Jost, Gesch. d. Judenth. i. 405, 414.
2 Gratz, iii. 243. Taanith, f. 19, 2. See Ewald, Gesch. Christ., p.

676 APPENDIX
that in the word \J9 the letter ]) is suspended, to indicate that it is the
"worshippers of the Hung" — i. e., the Christians — who devastate the vine
yard of Israel.
"Absalom." "BenStada."
"Ben Pandera."
Putting into Hebrew letters the Grecised form of His name (W), they made
each letter the first of a Hebrew word, so as to mean " May his memory (T) be
destroyed ('), and his name (V>) blotted out (1)."
Little is said about Jesus in the Talmud, except that He was a scholar of
Joshua Ben Perachiah (who lived a century before I), accompanied him into
Egypt, there learned magic, was a seducer (mesith) of the people, and was first
stoned, then hung as a blasphemer after forty days, during which no one had
come forward to speak in his favor.1
The Tolddth Jeshu is a late and detestable compilation, put together out of frag
mentary Talmudic legends, and regarded as utterly contemptible, even by the
Jews themselves.2 It is printed with a Latin translation by Wagenseil, in his
Tela Ignea Satanae ; but its blasphemies are too gross and grotesque to need
further notice.
Some account of the wretched follies blasphemously indicated by the name
Ben Stada, Ben Pandera, &c, may be seen in Buxtorf, Lex. Talm., p. 1458, seq.

EXCURSUS III. (Page 92.)
Jesus and Hillel.
The conjectural dates of Hillel's life are that he was born B. C. 75 ; came to
Jerusalem B. C. 36 ; became Nasi B. C. 30 ; and died about B. C. 10. Geiger,
a learned Rabbi of Frankfort, author of Das Judenthum und seine Geschichte, and
Urschrift. says, "Jesus was a Pharisee (!) who walked in the paths of Hillel;
that he uttered no new thought. Hillel on the contrary, presents us with the
picture of a genuine Reformer." This Hillel, he continues, with an undercurrent
of contrast, is a really historical personage ; 8 others have a halo of legend and
miracle about them which merely tends to obscure and conceal their actual per
sonality. Renan improves upon the hint, and, while he acknowledges the superi
ority of Jesus, says that Hillel was His real master.4 The Messiah, it seems, was
i Lightfoot ad Matt. xii. 24 ; Bab Sanhedr. 67 a; Shabbath, 104 b ; Gratz, ill. 242.
2 " Ein elendes Mackwerk." (Gratz, iii. 243.)
a Does M. Geiger consider it quite historical that Hillel knew the language of moun
tains, hills, valleys, trees, vegetables, wild and tame beasts, and demons (Sofrim, xvi. 9) ;
that the Bathlcdl decided in his favor as against Shammai (Bab. Erubhin,13b); that thirty
of his scholars were worthy of being overclouded by the Shechina like Moses, and thirty
more to make the sun stand still like Joshua (Babha Bathra, 134 a) ; and that such was
the flery zeal of his most eminent pupil, Jonathan Ben Uzziel, that, when he was studying
the Law, birds who flew over his head were consumed (B. Succa, 28 a) ? (See Otho, Lex
Bab. 242 ; Buxtorf, Lex Talm., p. 617 : GfrSrer, Jahrh d. HeOs, i. 37.)
4 " Par sa pauvret6 humblement supportee, par la douceur de son caractere, par l'oppo-
sition qu'll faisait aux hypocrites et aux pr§tree, Hillel fut le maitre de Jesus, s'il est per-
mis de parler de maitre quand 11 s'agit d'une si haute originality " «i (Vie de Jesus, p.^).
Farther on he says, very truly, " Hillel cependent ne passera jamais pour le vrai f ondateur

APPENDIX. 677
but the pupil and the plagiarist of a Rabbi, who, with less faults than others of
his countrymen, is said to have declared " that no such Messiah would ever
come." Now I would premise at once that these questions about " originality "
seem to me supremely idle and irrelevant in all cases, but most of all when they
are irreverently applied to the teaching of our Lord. The originality of Jesus,
even to those who regard Him as a mere human teacher, consists in this — that
His words have touched the hearts of all men in all ages, and have regenerated
the moral life of the world. Who but a pedant in art would impugn the origi
nality of Michael Angelo because his PietS, is said to have resembled a statue
of Signorelli; or of Raphael, because his earlier works betray the influence
of Perugino ? Who but an ignoramus would detract from the greatness of Milton
because his Paradise Lost offers some points of similarity to the Adam of Battista
Andreini ? But if there are any who cannot rise above this narrow ground, it is
well that they should remember that, according to the Jewish writers themselves,
we can never distinguish between the maxims which Hillel originated and those
which merely belonged to his school. Since they were not committed to writ
ing till long after the death of Christ, they may easily have been due to Christian
teaching, which certainly would not have been without influence on Hillel's
grandson, the Rabban Gamaliel.
It needs, however, but little knowledge of the real facts to see how utterly
imaginary are these Jewish conjectures. The position of Jesus towards the Rab-
binism of His nation and all that occupied it — its HagadSth, or legendary mat
ter, its Halachoth, or traditional customs, its puerile minutise, its benumbing
ritual, its inflated emptiness, its irreligious arrogance, its servile second-handness,
its to-and-fro balancing of conflicting opinions — is one not of submissive rever
ence, but of uncompromising hostility. Hillel was a " sweet and noble '' Rabbi ;
he is the loftiest figure which Rabbinism has produced; he seems to have been
really learned, humble, peaceful, and enlightened ; but the distance between him
and Jesus is a distance absolutely immeasurable, and the resemblance of his
teaching to that of Jesus is the resemblance of a glowworm to the sun. Their
whole scope and method are utterly different. Hillel rested on precedent, Jesus
spoke with authority. Hillel spoke in the schools to students and separatists ;
Jesus in the streets and by the roadsides to publicans and sinners. Hillel con
fined his teaching to Jerusalem ; Jesus traversed the length and breadth of Pal
estine. Hillel mainly occupied himself with the Levitical law, and modified its
regulations to render them more easy and more palatable ; Jesus taught only the
moral law, and extended its application from external actions to the very thoughts
of the heart. Would Christ have ever uttered a sentiment so deeply dyed in
Pharisaism as this? — "No uneducated man easily avoids sin; no common per
son (am ha-arets) is pious." ' Is not this the very echo of the haughty exclusive
du christianisme. Dans la morale, comme dans l'art, dire n'est rlen, faire est tout . . .
La verite ne prend quelque valeur que si elle passe a l'etat de sentiment, et elle n'atteint
tout son prlx que quand elle se realise dans le monde a l'etat de fait " *» (id., p, 96). Gei-
ger's remark, baseless as it is, has, however, found great currency (Gratz, Gesch. d. Juden,
iii.) . " Jesu Sanf tmuth und Demuth erinnern an Hillel, den er sich llberhaupt zum Mus
ter genommen zu haben scheint." 4™ Yet it is not too much to say that there is hardly
one page In any one of the Gospels which does not suflice to show its baselessness.
1 1 have already given instances (supra, p. 30) of the contempt poured on the poor am
ha-ratiim, and may add others. Their testimony was not received ; they are not admitted

678 APPENDIX.
insolence which said, " Have any of the rulers believed on Him, or of the Phar
isees ? But this mob that knoweth not the Law are cursed ? " Is it not the
very spirit which Christ's whole life and practice combated, and which His whole
teaching most utterly condemned ?
1. Three main'anecdotes are told of Hillel. One is that, though descended
from David, he came at the age of forty-one (about B. C. 36) to Jerusalem, where
he worked as a common porter, earning a victoriatus (about 3d.) a day, and giv
ing half of it to the porter of the School of Sliemaia and Abtalion, to admit him
to their lectures. One day, at dawn in the month Tebeth — about the end ot
December — said Shemaia to Abtalion, '' Brother, why is the school so dark ? it
seems to be a cloudy day." They looked up, and, darkening the window, was
some semblance of a human figure lying under a mass of snow. In spite of the
Sabbath they uncovered him, rubbed him with oil, and placed him near the fire.
It was Hillel, who, having earned nothing the day before, and having been churl
ishly excluded by the porter, had climbed in the twilight into the window of the
Beth Midrash, and there got buried and benumbed under a fall of snow.1 To
restore him to life by rubbing, warming, bathing him, Shemaia and Abtalion not
only broke the Sabbath, but declared that he was well worthy of having the
usual sabbatical rules superseded in his favor.
2. A pagan once came to Shammai, and said, " Make me a proselyte, but you
must teach me the whole Law while I stand on one leg! " Shammai drove the
man from his presence with blows. He went to Hillel, who replied with perfect
suavity, " What is unpleasing to thee do not to thy neighbor. This is the whole .
Law; all the rest is commentary. Go and learn that." 2
3. " Now or never," said a man to his friend ; " 400 zouzim3 to the man who
can make Hillel angry." "Done!" exclaimed the other. It was a Friday
afternoon, and Hillel was washing and combing his hair for the Sabbath. " Is
Hillel there ? " rudely and bluntly asked the man, as he knocked at the door.
" My son," he exclaimed, hastily putting on his mantle, " what dost thou want? "
"I have a question to ask."
"Ask on, my son."
" Why have the Babylonians such round heads ? "
"An important question, my son," said Hillel, laughing; "it is because they
have skilful midwives."
The man turned his back on him, went off, and returned in an hour. The
same rude interruption was repeated, and this time the man asked —

Into society ; no one Is to take the trouble to restore to them their lost property : the
terms " beasts " and "vermin" are applied to them, their wives, and their daughters ;
and finally, leave is given "to rend an am ha-arets like a fish " (JYi ljm? "iniD "IN , Dji)
See McCaul, Old Paths, pp. 6, 458, &c.
' Soma, 35 b.
2 Shabbath, 31 a.— I have had repeated occasion to observe how idle is the question of
" originality " in teaching of this kind ; but we find the same thing long berore, not only
In the Pentateuch, but even in the Book of Tobit iv. 15 : " Do that to no man which thou
hatest." The probable date of the Book of Tobit is two centuries before Hillel. For yet
earlier and even heathen parallels to the saying, see Ewald, Gesch. Isr. iv. 270. It is also
found to all intents and purposes in Confucius (Doctrine of the Mean, xx., and Analects,
xv. 23, where he tells Tsze Kung that the one word "reciprocity" [i.e., altruism] will
serve him as a rule of practice for all his life) and Buddha (see Barth. St. Hilaire, Le
Buddha et sa Religion, p. 92) ; see, too, Hesiod, Opp. et Dies, 1. 284, 312, 330.
8 A coin apparently worth a denarius, with a head of Zeus on it.

APPENDIX. 679
"Why have the ' Thermudians ' > [Palmyrenes] such narrow eye-slits ? "
•¦ An important question, my son. It is because they live in the middle of a
sandy desert."
A third time the man returned as before, and impudently asked —
" Why have the Africans such broad soles to their feet? "
Hillel calmly replied that it was because they live on such loose soil.
" I should have had plenty more questions to ask you were I not afraid that
you would get into a passion."
Hillel only drew his mantle more closely round him, and quietly replied —
" Ask on, whatever thou hast to ask."
" So," said the man, thoroughly disarmed, "you are the Hillel whom they call
the Nasi of Israel ? "
"Yes."" Well, then, I hope there are not many like you."
" Why, my son ? "
" Because through you I have lost 400 zouzim."
" Calm thyself, my son : better that thou shouldst lose for Hillel's sake 400,
ay, and 400 more, than that Hillel should lose patience." 2
No doubt these are beautiful anecdotes, as, is also the story that once for a rich
man who had lost his property he hired a horse and an attendant, and, when
the latter was not forthcoming, went himself three miles as his attendant.'
Sometimes, however, we see, even in the few records of him, facts and tenden
cies which, however well meant, cannot be praised. Thus, in opposition to
Shammai, he directed that in the bridal song the beauty of a bride should be
praised, however ugly she were ; and on one occasion, to avoid any question or
dispute with the school of Shammai, he passed off an ox, which was going to
be sacrificed for him, as a cow.4 The Rabbis praise these proceedings, yet we
feel instinctively what a shock they would have given us, how injurious they
would have been to the world's morality, had they occurred in the life of Christ.
He alone, of all who have ever lived in the world, could say, " Which of you
convinceth me of sin ? " Little as we know by comparison of a Socrates, of a
Confucius, of a Sakya Mouni. of a Hillel, of a Mahomet, and much as we know
of Jesus, yet in the scanty records of their lives we find much to disapprove ;
but there is nothing which is not divine and sinless in the fourfold record of the
life of Christ.
II. Turning from Hillel's life to his teaching, we see how the notion of his
being in any way a master of Christ crumbles into dust. Even his noblest
answer, already recorded, is gravely defective. It may do for a summary of the
second table of the Law, but, unlike the infinitely deeper wisdom of Jesus, it
omits all reference to the first table, on which the second is alone founded, and
with reference to which it is alone possible. Why did Hillel, in his famous
answer, forget the Shema (Deut. vi. 4, 5), and remember only Lev. xix. 18 ? So
did not Jesus (Matt. vii. 12; Luke vi. 31).
i This is a wrong reading for the people of Todmor or Palmyra. (Buxtorf, Lex. s. v.
Ewald, JahrbUch, x . 69.)
2 Shabbath. 30, 31.
3 Other striking anecdotes are mentioned by Ewald, Gesch. Christ. 31—33.
4 Kethuboth, 67 b, 16 b. .Tost, Gesch. d. Judenthums, 1. 267. Delitzsch, Jet. und HuM, 36 ;
" Er bewegte wedelnd den Schweif des Thieres, urn dessen Geschlecht zu verbergen." «*

6^0 APPENDIX.
It is said, indeed, that Jesus sometimes applies one or other of the seven
famous midddth (nilD) laid down by Hillel for the interpretation of Scripture.
But in point of fact' these midddth are a mere summary of existing and per
fectly obvious processes (Inference from major to minor or vice versd, Matt. vii.
11, x. 29 ; analogy, connection, &c, Matt. xii. 5) ; and, in the next place, these
were only contrivances to support the credit and authority of that Oral Law
which Jesus utterly rejected and — it is hardly too much to say — despised.
The instances in which the decisions of Christ coincide with those of Shammai
are at least as numerous, and refer to subjects of greater importance (e. g., Matt.
v. 32 ; xix. 9 ; xviii. 17) ; yet who has ever thought of saying that He was a
disciple of Shammai ?
For instance, one of Hillel's most celebrated and elaborate decisions was on a
trumpery series of questions as to whether one might or might not eat an egg
which a hen had laid on a feast-day, when the feast-day came in connection with
a sabbath. This precious inquiry gives its name, Bttsa (egg), to an entire Tal
mudical treatise. Is it possible to imagine that Jesus would have treated it
otherwise than with the finest yet tenderest irony ? Yet in his decision on
this point Hillel was more strict and more Shammaitic than Shammai himself.1
In some points, too, Hillel's teaching was, to say the least, very dubious. He
ruled, for instance — owing to a vague expression in Deut. xxiv. 1 — that a man
might put away his wife "even if she cooked his dinner badly" (Git. 90). It is
true that. Jost (Gesch. d. Judenthums, i. 264) and later writers interpret this to
mean "bringing discredit on his home;" but the "even if" O^BX) evidently
points to a minimum. His manner, too, of evading the Mosaic rules about the
sabbatical year (mentioned in Excursus IX.) can only be regarded as a disingen
uous shuffle. Better specimens of Hillel's teaching are —
"Separate not thyself from the congregation, and have no confidence in thy
self till the day of thy death.''
" If I do not care for my soul, who will do it for me ? If I care only for my
own soul, what am I? If not now, when then ? " (Abhdth i. 14.)
"Judge not thy neighbor till thou art in his situation."
" Say not, I will repent when I have leisure, lest that leisure should never be
thine." " The passionate man will never be a teacher."
" In the place where there is not a man be thou a man."
"Be of the disciples of Aaron, who loved peace."
" Whoever is ambitious of aggrandizing his name will destroy it." 5
' All ceremonializing and particularizing religions are liable to be evaporated into idle
cases of casuistry. Some few years ago the Mohammedans at the Cape were agitated by
such a dispute. The Sultan had sent some one to look after their spiritual condition.
This person found that they were in the habit of eating cray-flsh of a particular species,
which in an evil hour he pronounced to be unclean. Objecting to this decision, they said
that there was nothing about cray-flsh In the Koran. However, he looked up a prohibition
to eat spiders, and declared that for all ceremonial purposes a cray-flsh was practically a
spider. Referring the question to the curator of the Cape Museum, they were (naturally)
Informed that a cray-flsh was not a species of spider. The more scrupulous, however,
objected to the decision, and as far as my informant knows, the dispute may be as lively
as ever to this day.
2 Some of these (e. g., the last) are obscure in the original, and admit a widely different
interpretation. (Ewald, ubi sup.) These and others are in the Pirke Abhoth (Etheridge,
Hebr. Lit., p. 36). But it must not be forgotten that even this treatise is not older than
the second century after Christ.

APPENDIX. 681
Hillel was undoubtedly a great and good man, and he deserved the wail uttered
over his grave — "Ah, the gentle, the holy, the scholar of Ezra! " — but to com
pare his teaching with that of the Saviour is absurd. It was legal, casuistic, and
narrow, while that of Jesus was religious, moral, and human. If Jesus uttered
nothing original, as modern Jewish Rabbis are so fond of saying, how is it that,
whereas the very name of Hillel is unknown except to scholars, the words of
Jesus wrought the mightiest revolution that has ever been witnessed in the
world ? Had Humanity nothing better to live on than the words of Hillel, it
would be dwarfed and starved indeed. The shortest and slightest of our Saviour's
parables is worth all that he ever said.1 Nay, even the least of the Old Testa
ment prophets is transcendently greater than this "greatest and best of the
Pharisees." He and his school, and Shammai and his school, spent a century of
unprofitable and groundless jangling on the exegesis of two short words of the
Law (ervath dabhar, Deut. xxiv. 1), without approaching a single sound princi
ple, which would have rendered their quarrel needless : but Jesus furnished that
principle, and solved the question for ever the moment that it was brought before
Him (Matt. xix. 3 — 9). Let any candid reader consult the translation of the
Talmudic treatise Berachdlh, by M. Schwab, and see (pp. 264, 266, 314, 375, 404,
&c.) the kind of miserably minute questions of infinitely little matters of formal
ism which occupied the mind and life of Hillel,2 and calmly consider the mixture
of scorn and pity with which Jesus would have treated the notion that there was
in such questions any intrinsic importance. He will then be able to judge for
himself of the folly and untenability of the statement that Hillel was the true
master of Jesus I

EXCURSUS IV. (Page 93.)
Greek Learning.
There is a story, several times repeated in the Talmud, that during the siege
of Jerusalem in the civil war between Hyrcanus II. and Aristobulus, a box was
daily let down the wall by the adherents of the latter, full of money, in return
for which it was re-filled with the victims necessary for the daily sacrifice. But
an "ancient" who knew "Greek wisdom" (chdchmaih Javanith) made the
besiegers understand that the Temple would never be yielded so long as they
supplied the means for continuing the daily sacrifice. Consequently, the next

i See further the admirable brochure of Jesus und Hillel by E. Delitzsch (Erlangen, 1867) ;
Ewald, Gesch. Christ., pp. 12—48 ; Budaeus, Philos. Hebr. 108, seqq. ; Geiger, De Hillel et
Shammai; Ugolini, xxi. ; Gratz, Gesch. d. Judenth. iii. 172—179 ; Jost, Gesch. d. Jud. 254,
seqq. ; Herzf eld, Gesch. d. Volkes Isr. i. 257—261.
s Ex. gr., Whether, when you are carrying perfumed oil and myrtles, you ought to bless
first the myrtles and then the oil ; whether you ought to take off your phylacteries or not
in certain places of daily resort ; whether you ought or ought not to be in a particular
position at particular times of studying the Law ; whether you ought first to wash your
hands and then fill the glasses, or vice versd ; whether you ought to lay the napkin on the
table or on the seat, &c, &c. The mere enumeration of one tithe of such points in serious
dispute between the schools of Hillel and Shammai is wearisomely repulsive ; yet it is of
such deadening and frivolous matters — only very often unspeakably more nauseous —
that the Talmud is full. One cannot blame Hillel for not being before his age; but to
compare Eabbinism with Christianity, and Hillel with Christ, requires either a consum
mate effrontery, or a total paralysis of the critical faculty.
86

682 APPENDIX.
day, a pig was put in the box, which, when half-way up the wall, clung to the
wall with its feet. An earthquake ensued. On this occasion the Doctors pro
nounced a curse on all who bred pigs, and on all who taught their children
Greek wisdom. (Sota, 49 b ; Menachdth 64 6.)1
But, as Gratz (iii. 502) and Derenbourg (Hist. Pal. 114) point out, by " Greek
wisdom " elsewhere is probably intended a sort of magic ; and, in this instance,
the art of secretly communicating with an enemy — as the traitorous ancient had
done — by means of arrows with letters attached to them. The " ancient " is
conjectured to have been Antipater.
It remains, however, true that, although the Rabbis on this, as on most other
matters, contradict themselves, many of them wholly despised and discouraged
Greek learning. Josephus, at tho end of the Antiquities, distinctly tells us that
they thought it slavish to be a good linguist, and, necessary as the Greek lan
guage was for commercial purposes, very few had attained it with accuracy.
Origen gives us the same testimony, saying that the Jews cared little either for
the Greek language or literature.2
Rabbi Akiba says that no Israelite would be a partaker of eternal life who
read the books of the gentiles.8 Gamaliel was the only eminent Rabbi who
permitted his pupils to read them — a circumstance to which we may possibly
owe the classical quotations of St. Paul from Aratus, Menander, and Epimenides
(Acts xvii. 28 ; 1 Cor. xv. 33 ; Titus i. 12).

EXCURSUS V. (Pages 214, 215.)
The Talmud and the Oral Law.
The Jews believe that the Law falls under two divisions — the Written Law
(Torah shebeketeb), and the Oral, or that " upon the lip " (Torah shebeal pi), of
which the latter, or " tradition." is equally authoritative with the former, or
even more so.
The Talmud proper consists of the Mishna and the Gemara.
The Oral Law remained absolutely unwritten at least down to the time of the
later Tanaim (about A. D. 30 — 80), who, indeed, thought it wrong to commit it
to writing. The older Megillath Taanith — a collection of Hagaddth ("legends or
narrations ") and Halachdth (" rules ") on times and solemnities — is supposed to
have been drawn up by Hanania Ben Hiskia in the time of our Lord. But the
first who reduced the Mishna to writing was the famous Rabbi Jehuda Hakk6-
desh, who died A. D. 190. His reason for doing so was the apparent danger of
national extinction after the fearful massacre which ensued on the defeat of Bar-
Cochebas and the capture of Bethyr; but although the reduction of the Oral
Law to writing was discouraged, secret rolls (megilldth setharim) of it are said to
have existed before. In point of fact, laws are often, by a sort of fiction, sup
posed to be "unwritten " for centuries after they may be read in print.
The word Mishna means " repetition," and is usually rendered in Greek by
Sevrspcodii. Maimonides divides the Oral Law into five classes — viz., (i.) Per-
i See GfrBrer, Jahrh. d. Heils, 1. Iii, and Philo und die Alex. Theo. ii. 350.
2 O. Cels. ii. 34.
» Bob. Sanhedr. 90 a.

APPENDIX. 683
ushtm, explanations believed to date from Moses, (ii.) Dinerim, or " constitu
tions," which are " modes of conduct " (halachdth) believed to have been deliv
ered by Moses, (iii.) Generally received customs, (iv.) Decisions of the wise
men, regarded as a " hedge about the Law " (min? J'D). (v.) Experimental

Jehuda divided his immense materials into six sedartm, or " orders," contain
ing sixty-three massiktdth, or "tracts," and 525 peraMm, or "chapters" — viz.:
1. Seder Zeraim, or " Seeds," containing the Berachdth, on worship; Peah ;
(" corner "), on the rights of the soil ; Terumdth, " oblations," &c.
2. Seder Moed, " Festival ; " containing Shabbath, Erubhin, of "mixtures"
(«. infr., Exc. IX.) ; Pesachim, " the Passover ; " Toma, " Day of Atonement ; "
Sukka, "Feast of Tabernacles;" Bitsa, "an egg;" Rosh Hashshanah, "the new
year;" Taanlth, "fasts; " Chagiga, "thank-offering," &c.
3. Seder Nashim, on women ; containing Gittin, " divorce ; '' Kethubhdth,
" wedding contracts," &c.
4. Seder Nezikin, on " Injuries ; " containing Babha Kama, " the first ; " Metzia,
"the middle," and Bathra, "the last gate; " Sanhedrin; Abhdda Zara, "strange
services ; " Abhdth, " the Fathers," &c. p
5. Seder Kadashim, on " Consecrations."
6. Seder Tahardth, "Purifications," containing Yadaim, or the purification of
the hands, &C1
The commentary on the Mishna, which is boundlessly voluminous, is called
the Gemara, " complement." and the Mishna and Gemara together form the Tal
mud, or " that which should be learnt." The Jerusalem Talmud dates from about
A. D. 390, and the Babylonian from about A. D. 420.
Appendices to the Mishna are called Toseftdth; exegetical additions to the
Gemara are called Tosafdth. Supplements to the Mishna, consisting of commen
taries (e. g., Sifra, a Midrash or " comment" on Leviticus, Sifri on Numbers and
Deuteronomy, and Mechiltha on Exodus), are called Baraithas.
The language of the Talmud is uncouth, corrupt, and often unintelligible. It
contains some beautiful and noble things, but far fewer than any other such
enormous mass of human writings ; and nothing can be conceived more tedious
and unprofitable than its "desultory and confused wrangle," teeming with con
tradictions and mistakes. A sufficient number of Talmudic treatises have been
translated to enable any reader to judge of this for himself. Lightfoot, than
whom no scholar had a better right to speak, says that " the almost unconquer
able difficulty of the style, the frightful roughness of the language, and the amaz
ing emptiness and sophistry of the matters handled, do torture, 'vex, and tire him
that reads them."
For a continuation of this subject see Excursus XII., " Notes on the Talmud."

i The principal edition and translation of the Mishna is that by Surenhusius, Amsterd.
1668—1703. It has been translated into German by Babe (1763), and Jost (1833) ; and eigh
teen treatises have been translated into English by Eabbis De Sola and Raphall (second
edition, London, 1845); Gfrorer, Jahr. d. Heils, i. 10. I have abridged the above account
from Etheridge's Hebr. Literat., pp. 117 seqq. See, too, Dr. Davidson s. v. "Talmud " in
Kitto's Bibl. Cyel.

684 APPENDIX.

EXCURSUS VI. (Pages 134, 246.)
Traditional Description or the Appearance of our Lord.
The earliest actual descriptions of Jesus are very late, yet it i3 possible that
they may have caught some faint accent of tradition handed down from the days
of Irenseus, Papias, and St. John. Nicephorus, quoting from a description given
by John of Damascus, in the eighth century, says that He resembled the Virgin
Mary; that He was beautiful and strikingly tall, with fair and slightly curling
locks, on which no hand but His mother's had ever passed, with dark eyebrows,
an oval countenance, a pale and olive complexion, bright eyes, an attitude slightly
stooping, and a, look expressive of patience, nobility, and wisdom.1 The famous
letter which professes to have been addressed by "Lentulus, president of the
people of Jerusalem, to the Roman Senate," 2 though not older than the twelfth
century, is yet so interesting for the history of Christian art, and so clearly
derived from long-current traditions, that we may here quote it entire.
" There has appeared in our times," it says, " a man of great virtue, named
Christ Jesus  He is a man of lofty stature, beautiful, having a noble
countenance, so that they who look on Him may both love and fear. He has
wavy hair, rather crisp, of the color of wine, and glittering as it flows down from
His shoulders, with a parting in the middle of the head after the manner of the
Nazarenes.3 His forehead is pure and even, and His face without any spot or
wrinkle, but glowing with a. delicate flush. His nose and mouth are of faultless
beauty; He has a beard abundant and of the same hazel color as His hair, not
long, but forked. His eyes are blue and very bright.4 He is terrible in rebuke,
calm and loving in admonition, cheerful but preserving gravity. He has never
been seen to laugh, but oftentimes to weep. His stature is erect, and his hands
and limbs are beautiful to look upon. In speech He is grave, reserved, and
modest; and He is fair among the children of men." 6
1 See Winer, Bealw., a v. "Jesus;" Nicephorus, Hist. Eccl. i. 40. This description, with
that of the pseudo-Lentulus and John of Damascus, was edited^ by J. G. Carpzov, of
Helmstadt, in 1777. The fullest treatment of the subject is in Dr. Lewis Gliickselig, Stu-
dien uber Jes. Christ und sein wahres Ebenbild. Prag., 1863. (See Quart. Rev. 1867.) The
earliest pictures of Christ, in the Catacombs, are purely symbolic (the Lamb, the Pish,
Orpheus, &c).
2 No such office existed, nor did any one of that name fill any analogous position.
3 He evidently meant Nazarites.
4 More than one of these touches recalls the description of the youthful David (1 Sam.
xvi. 12). " He Was ruddy, and withal of a beautiful countenance (Heb. ' fair of eyes '), and
goodly to look to." Cf. xvii. 42, and Cant. v. 10, "My beloved is white and ruddy, and
chiefest (Heb. 'a standard-bearer') among ten thousand . . . His locks are bushy (Heb.
' curled '), and black as a raven. His eyes are as the eyes of doves," &c.
5 B. H. Cowper, The Apocr. Gospels, p. 221 ; Hofmann, pp. 291—294 ; Hase, p. 80. — Pic
tures and statues of Christ are said to have originated on the gems, &c, of the Gnostics
— e. g., Basilidians, Carpocratians, &c. ; but symbolic representations were common in
the Catacombs (Iren. c. Haer. i. 24 ; Hippol., Philosoph. vii. 32). A statue of Christ is said
to have found its way into the private lararium of the Emperor Alexander Severus (Lam-
¦pT\A.,Vit. Alex. Sever. c.29). The one which has acquired most fame is the supposed repre
sentation at Csesarea Philippi (Paneas) of the healing of the woman with the issue of
blood, as related in the apocryphal story of Veronica (Cowper, p. 233 ; Hofmann, 293, 354,
357), which Eusebius saw, but despised (Hist. Ecc. vii. 18), and which Julian is said to have
destroyed (Sozomen, H. E. v. 20 ; Philostorg., H. E. vii. 3). I need merely allude to the
miraculous impression on the napkin of Veronica, the shroud given by Nicodemus, &c.

APPENDIX. 685

EXCURSUS VII. (Page 265.)
Jewish Angelology and Demonology.
It is the characteristic of the Oriental, and especially of the Semitic mind, to
see in every event, even the most trivial, a direct supernatural interference,
wrought by the innumerable unseen ministers — both good and evil — of the
Divine Will. The definite form in which the belief clothed itself was, by the
admission of the Jews themselves, derived from Babylon.1
Even the most ordinary forces and phenomena of Nature, and passions of the
mind, were by them regarded as angels. Thus, in the Jer. Targum on Deut. ix.
19, it is said that, to punish the Israelites for worshipping the golden calf, God
sent five angels — Indignation, Anger, Fury, Ruin, Wrath. And they would
have interpreted quite literally the verse — " He maketh the winds his angels,
and fiery flames his ministers " (Ps. civ. 4).
The number of the angels — the Tsebha hashamaim — was immense. R.
Eliezer said that at Sinai 600,000 descended, according to the number of the
600,000 Israelites; s and in Bab. Berachdth (32 b) we find the following story:—
"According to R. Rish Lakish, Isa. xlix. 14 is to be understood as follows: The
Church of Israel complains to God : ¦' Lord of the World, even when a man takes
a second wife he thinks of the first; but thou hast utterly forgotten me.' But
God answered, 'Daughter, I have 12 mazaldth (signs of the zodiac), and to each
massal 30 chel '(commanders), and to each chel 30 legions (generals), and to each
legion 30 rabatdn (officers), and to each rabatdn 30 kartdn (captains), and to each
kartdn 30 kistra (camps), and to each kistron I have assigned 3,650,000,000 stars.
All these have I created for thy sake, and yet thou sayest I have forgotten
thee.'" This, it will be seen, makes the number of the Tsebaoth (or Hosts of Heaven)
12 x 30 x 30 x 30 x 30 x 30 x 3,650,000, which makes 1,064,340,000,000,000, i. e.,
on the old English plan of notation, one trillion, sixty-four billion, three hundred
and forty thousand million ; or according to the newer English plan and the
French plan (recommended, says M. Littre, by Locke), one quintillion, &c. The
factors are evidently a muddle of days, months, &c, the same factors being occa
sionally repeated to make sure of not being under the mark! The military terms
(castra, &c.) have an interesting bearing on the Asysaov of Mark v. 9; for the
devils were supposed to be under similar military organization. Wier, De
Praestigiis Daemonum, calculates that there are 7,405,926 devils.
These angels were all divided into ranks and classes,
" Thrones, dominations, virtues, princedoms, powers,"
to which there seems to be an allusion in Eph. i. 21 .
The evil spirits — offspring, according to various Rabbinic legends, of Adam
and Lilith, or of Sammael and Eve, or of " the sons of God and daughters of
men" — were equally numerous. To them were attributed many results which
i Rosh Hashshanah, 56 ; GfrSrer, Jahrh. d. Heils, i. 124. — The facts in this Excursus are
derived mainly from GfrSrer and Frankl, Jews in the East. GSthe's demonology in Faust
is mainly Talmudic, and is borrowed from Eisenmenger.
2 Pirke Eliezer, 41.

686 APPENDIX.
we should undoubtedly assign to purely natural causes, especially the phenomena
of epilepsy, as is very clearly described in the Book of Enoch (xv. 8).
Their home was supposed to be the region of the middle air (John xii. 31 ;
xiv. 30; 2 Cor. iv. 4; and especially Eph. ii. 2; vi. 12), and they were regarded
as lords of the existing state of things. An exaggeration of this view led to
certain Ebionite heresies, and even in the Book Zohar Satan is called " the sec
ond God " (El acher ; cf. 2 Cor. iv. 4). R. Joshua Ben Levi says that he has
seven names — Lust, Impurity, the Hater, &c, and "the Man of Midnight"
(Joel ii. 20, Heb.).
In Bab. Berachdth (6 a) we are told that if we could but see the devils no one
could stand the shock. Every man has 10,000 at his right hand, and 1,000 at his
left. They are remarkably powerful at night; hence no one should greet a per
son by night, for fear of saluting a devil (Sanhedr. 44 a). They live chiefly in
ruins, and deserts and sepulchres, and under trees (especially the service-tree),
and foul places.
Headache was caused by a demon named Kardaikoos. On the sabbath-night
all hide themselves except one Asiman, who causes the birth of epileptic children.
The belief in these Schedwn, or evil spirits, has continued unabated to this day.
" There are houses in Jerusalem in which men and women cannot dwell together- 7
the Schedtm will not allow it; and thus they are occupied by women alone." The
celebrated cabalist, Jehuda Bivas of Corfu, explained that they have no power in
the West. The chalebi, the old traditional head-dress df the Jewish women,
seems to have been invented for the express purpose of keeping off the Schedim,
who sit on the hair of women whose heads are uncovered (see 1 Cor. xi. 10).
" Its ugliness is only equalled by the difficulty of describing it : " it seems to be a
sort of chignon, except that it is made entirely of linen, and conceals the hair of
all who wear it.1

EXCURSUS VIII. (Page 284.)
The Unnamed Feast or John v. 1, and the Length of the Ministry.
"After this " (the healing of the nobleman's son), says St. John, " there was a
feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem."
What this feast was, is in all probability a question which, though interesting
and important in settling the length of our Lord's ministry, will never receive a
final answer. Whole volumes have been written on it, and to enter upon all the
discussions which they open would be idle, and endless, and, after all, uncon
vincing. In spite of the patient thought and consummate learning which have
been devoted to the consideration, the data are clearly insufficient to decide con
vincingly how long Christ publicly taught on earth, nor shall we ever be able to
attain any certainty on that deeply interesting question. The few remarks which
I shall make on the subject shall be as brief and clear as possible.
1. St. John groups his entire narrative round the Jewish festivals,1 and men
tions —

i See Frankl, Jews in the East, E. Tr., ii. 160, seqq. ; i. 227, &c.
2 See Browne, Ordo Saeclorum, p. 91.

APPENDIX. 687
i. "The Passover of the Jews" (ii. 13), rd itddxa raov 'IovSaiaov.
ii. "A" or " the " Feast of the Jews " (v. 1;, ioprrj or $ ioprrj ro3V 'IovSaiaov.1
iii. The Passover, the Feast of the Jews (vi. 4), rd itddxa $ ioprrj raov
'IovSaiaov.
iv. " The Tabernacles, the Feast of the Jews " (vii. 2), r) ioprrj raov 'IovSaiaov
rj dxr)voitr/yia.
v. " The Dedication " (x. 22), rd iyxaivia.
vi. "The Passover of the Jews" (xi. 55), rd itddxa raov 'IovSaiaov.
2. The feasts of the Jews occurred in the following order, and if we take a
particular year, we can (though this cannot be regarded as certain or beyond
dispute) fix the very day of the month and week on which they occurred. Ex.
gr., taking the year '28 A. D., we have —

Nisan 1.

Tues. March 16.

Jewish New Year's Day.

14.

Mon. "

29.

Passover; the days of unleavened bread
lasting seven days.

Sivan 6.

Wed. Mat

19.

Pentecost.

Trsui 10.

Sat. Sept.

18.

Day of Atonement.

" 15-21.

" 23-29.

Tabernacles

Kislk.u 25.

Wed. Dec.

1.

Dedication.

Veadar 14.

Sat. March

19.

Purim.2

This last feast would thus be nearly a month before the Passover of the ensu
ing year, A. D. 29, in which year the Passover fell on April 17ft.
3. Now the feast here mentioned could hardly be the Passover or the Feast of
Tabernacles, because, as we have seen, St. John, when he mentions those feasts,
mentions them by name ; in fact, both those feasts had Greek names (itddxa
and dxrivoitrjyia) familiarly known to Greek readers; and there seems Jo be no
reason whatever why the name of either should be omitted here. It is impossi
ble to suppose that the omission of the name is purely arbitrary or accidental.
But there are still weightier reasons against the supposition that it was either of
these two great feasts. For (a) if this were the Passover, St. John would omit
a whole year of our Lord's ministry (vi. 4) without a word; and it cannot have
been (fi) the Feast of Tabernacles immediately succeeding the first Passover
mentioned by St. John, because six months is too short a period for all the events
which had intervened since the journey through Samaria (John ii. 13); nor (y)
can it have been the Feast of Tabernacles in the subsequent year, for then a year
and a half would have elapsed without a single visit to Jerusalem. In short, if
we assume, as we have done, that after His first Passover our Lord spent some
time in Judea, and then, possibly four months before harvest (John iv. 35), passed
through Samaria on His journey to Galilee'; and if again we infer, as we seem
entitled to do, that the Passover mentioned in John vi. 4 is the second which He
attended, we must then look for this unnamed feast some time between the close
of winter and the harvest — i. e., between 'Kisleu or December and Nisan 16, on
which day the first wheat-sheaf was offered, and harvest legally began.
i The reading is profoundly uncertain. The Alexandrine and Vatican Manuscripts an 1
the Codex Bezae have not the article ; on the other band, the Codex Ephraemi and the
Sinaiticus have it. Yet it is much more likely to have been inserted than to have been
omitted, and if we could be sure that it did not exist in the original text, this would seem
to be nearly decisive against its being the Passover or Feast of Tabernacles.
2 Wieseler, Chron. Sun. E. Tr., p. 434.

688 APPENDIX.
If these reasons are not absolutely conclusive, they are at least very weighty,
and if admitted, they at once exclude the greater Jewish festivals.
4. Looking, therefore, at minor feasts, there is only one for which we can see
a reason why the name should have been omitted — viz., the Feast of Purim.
The mere fact of its being a minor feast would not alone be a sufficient reason
for excluding the name, since, as we have seen, St. John mentions by name the
comparatively unimportant and humanly appointed Feast of the Dedication.
But the name of this feast was represented by a familiar Greek word (Encaenia),
and explained itself; whereas the Feast of Purim was intensely Jewish, and the
introduction of the name without an explanation would have been unintelligible.
Purim means "lots," and if St. John had merely translated the name into
¦Greek, it might have led to very mistaken impressions. The only Greek equiv
alents for it were $povpai or ij NlopSoxaixr) rjpipa, neither of which was
generally known or understood in the Gentile world.1 Moreover, the fact that
it was the most unimportant, non-religious, and questionably-observed of the
Jewish feasts, would be an additional reason for leaving the name unnoticed.
Mr. Browne, in his very learned and elaborate, but unconvincing Ordo Sae-
clorum, uses a powerful series of arguments to show that our Lord's ministry
only lasted for a single - year and a few weeks (pp. 342 — 391). He relies
much on various astronomical arguments, which depend on dubious data, and
on traditions which are not only conflicting, but can be easily accounted for.
Origen (De Principiis, iv. 5) says iviavrov xai itov xai oXiypvi prjvai
iSiSa&v,4*1 and argues for our Lord's Divinity from the fact that His brief
year of teaching was found adequate — so "full of grace were His lips" — to
renovate the world.2 Such seems to have been the most ancient opinion, and
yet, as Mr. Browne candidly points out, Melito, Irenseus, and others take a
very different view ; and Irenseus speaks of it as a certain fact, derived by
tradition from St. John, that our Lord, at the time of His death, was between
forty and fifty years old (c. Haeres. ii. 22, 5).
The tradition as to the duration of the ministry for a single year is suffi
ciently accounted for by Luke iv. 19, to which expression indeed St. Clement
of Alexandria directly appeals in confirmation of this view (xai on iviavrov
povov e'Sei avrov xrjpvkai xai rovro yiypaitrai ovraoi, iviavrov Ssxrdv
xvpiov xijpv^ai ditidrEiXiv ps,4si Strom, i. xxi. § 145). The tradition as to
our Lord's age is derived from the surprised remark of the Jews in John viii.
57.3 We have already seen that neither of these passages supports the infer
ences which have been drawn from them. This was early observed, and even
Hippolytus, the scholar of Irenseus, says that our Lord died at the age of
thirty-three;4 and Eusebius (H. E. i. 10), Theodoret (in Dan. ix. 27), Jerome
(id.), and others agree with him.
Mr. Browne proceeds ingeniously to show that if a year's ministry be supposed,

i Purim is corrupted from the Persian word bahre, "lots" (cf. pars), which the LXX.
and Josephus corrupted into ^povpal and <ppovpaioi. Ewald long ago pointed out (Morgen-
land. Zeitschr. iii. 415) that it was regarded as " a preliminary celebration of the Passover."
2 Even Origen does not seem to be quite consistent with himself. See c. Cels. ii., p.397
and in Matt. xxiv. 15. (Gieseler, Ch. Hist. 1. 55, E. Tr.)
s The reading Teo-o-opaicoi/ra -tss adopted by Chrysostom, Euthymius, &c, is probably a mere
correction, and has no good MS. authority. The Jews only mentioned fifty as a round
number, expressing complete manhood.
4 In Dan. iv. Words w. ad loo.

APPENDIX. 689
and if rd itddxa ie eliminated from John vi. 4, St. John may then be supposed
to give the feasts of a year in regular chronological order, viz : —

1. The Passover (ii. 13) .
2. The Pentecost (v. 1) .
3. The Feast of Tabernacles (vi. 4; vii. 2)
4. The Dedication (x. 22)
5. The Passover of the Crucifixion

March.
May. September.
December.
March.

But it is surely and finally fatal against this view that, whatever may be the case
in the quotations or allusions of some of the Fathers, there is not the very faintest
MS. authority for the omission of rd itddxa in John vi. 4.1 Such being the
case, St. John certainly and definitely mentions three passovers. If, as on other
grounds we have seen to be probable, there was one passover in our- Lord's
ministry which he did not attend, the length of ministry was, as most inquirers
have now agreed to believe, three years and some weeks, or possibly months.
This' would account for the remarkable specification of " three years," and a
reprieve for another year, as the time during which the unfruitful tree is spared
in Luke xiii. 7, 8.

EXCURSUS IX. (Page 335.)
Hypocrisy of the Pharisees.
The very raison dfetre464 of the Pharisees was to create " hedges " of oral tradi
tion around the Law. Epiphanius, inventing a very forcible word to describe their
character, says that they derived their name from their iBEXoitEpiddoBprjdxEia?
voluntary, excessive, external service ; and yet, in spite of these extravagant
professions, they were perfectly ready to make devices to evade the law when it
interfered with their own conveniences and plans.3 Perhaps the most flagrant
instance of this is the manner in which they managed to absolve themselves
from the self-imposed obligation of not exceeding the 2,000 yards at which they
fixed a Sabbath day's journey.4
It was the custom of the Pharisees to join in syssitia, or common daily ban
quets, which they subjected to the most stringent conditions, and which they
assimilated in all respects to priestly meals. But as their houses were often
more than 2,000 yards from the place of meeting, and as the bearing of burdens
on the Sabbath was strictly forbidden (Neh. xiii. 15 ; Jer. xvii. 21 ; Exod. xvi.
29), they would, without a little ingenuity, have been prevented from dining in
i Mr. Browne simply relies on the conjecture that it is an interpolation unknown to
Irenseus, Origen, Clement, Tertullian, &c.
2 Haeres. xvi. 34.
3 " Une tendance importante des Pharisiens, celle de transiger avea les obligations de la
Loi dans l'intergt des nouveaux besoins " jss (Derenbourg, Hist. Pal. 144). " To make a
hedge round the Law " was one of the lessons of Simo-n the Just (Pi/rk. Abhdtli, i. 1 ; Jost,
i. 95). For some further remarks see infr., Excursus XIV.
4 This was founded on elaborate arguments drawn from Exod. xxi. 13 ; xvi. 29. In the
latter passage, "beyond 2,000 cubits" is actually inserted by the Jer. Targum. See the
excellent and thoroughly well-informed articles of Dr. Ginsburg on " Sabbath Day's
Journey " and " Pharisees " in Kitto's Bible Cyclopedia.
87

690 APPENDIX.
common on the very day on which they most desired it. A little management
quite relieved them from their difficulty.
On the evening before the Sabbath, they deposited some food at a distance of
2,000 yards from their own house, thus creating a fictitious home ; from this fic
titious home they could then go 2,000 yards farther to the place of meeting, thus
giving themselves double the real distance ! This piece of transparent hyprocrisy
was euphemistically described as an ideal amalgamation of distances, or " con
nection of places," and was called erubh ("mixture," 311V), a name under which
it exists to the present day.1 In order to get1 over the second difficulty, a still
more miserable subterfuge was adopted, by putting door-posts and lintels at the
end of various streets, so that all the space between them might be regarded as
one large house ! 2
Could any words of burning denunciation be too strong to denounce such a
playing at " fast and loose " with obligations which they professed to regard as
infinitely and divinely sacred, and the violation of which they were ready to
avenge by inflicting death on the transgressor ? They must have thought that
both their Deity and their conscience were easily cheated ! 3
The Sadducees got over the difficulty, too, in a manner more daring, but infi
nitely less despicable, by calmly asserting that their meals were a continuation
of the Temple service, and therefore claiming the benefit of the maxim, that there
was " no sabbatism in the Temple."
These instances might be indefinitely multiplied : e. g., if a Jew's ox is dying,
he may kill it on a holy day, provided he eats a, piece of the meat as big as an
olive, to make believe that it was killed for a necessary meal. If a Jew wants to
buy anything which is sold by weight or measure on a holy day, he may do so,
provided that he pays the next day, and does not mention the name, weight,
or measure. If a Jew wants to buy cattle, fowls, &c, on a holy day, he may do
so, only he must not mention money or the number required. He may buy
from a butcher on a holy day, only he must not say, " Give me meat for so much
money," but only "Give me a portion, or half a, portion" and he pays for it next
day.4 Can any stretch of charity, however tender, avoid calling this the legality
of evasion designed to cheat God with the letter instead of the spirit. Is the
word " hypocrites " too strong for those who thus reduced shiftiness to a sacred
system ?
Another instance of the same kind was the way in which they treated the
sabbatical year. " Before and in the time of Christ they did away with the law
of remitting debts, by regarding it as a meritorious act on the part of the debtor
not to avail himself of the Mosaic enactment, but to pay his debts irrespective of
the sabbatical year. But not glaringly to counteract the law, these doctors
enacted that the creditor should say, •' In accordance with the sabbatical year I
remit thee the debt : ' whereunto the debtor had to reply, ' I nevertheless wish
i Among the Jews of Palestine (especially at Safed) there are many of these contempti
ble trickeries.
2 These Erubhin, or " combinations " —i. e., the relations of places and limits, as affect
ing the observation of the Sabbath — flll ten chapters of the Seder Moed. The invention
of these is attributed to Solomon. (Shabb. 14, 2 ; Reland, Antt. Hebr. 524.)
3 Similarly it is found in Hindostan that caste is protected with the most minute and
scrupulous fidelity, except where it clashes with ordinary interests — as, e. 0., in railway
travelling. 4 See the original passages quoted in Dr. McCaul's Old Paths, pp. 108 ff.

APPENDIX. 691
to pay it,' and then the creditor accepted the payment." ' A very ingenious farce
indeed I but intolerable in men who professed an intense zeal and illimitable
devotion for " every sentence, word — what say I ? — every letter " — of the
Mosaic legislation. Perhaps it may be said that these are simply legal fictions
necessitated by a false position: but a far more shameful proof of organized
hypocrisy is furnished in the advice given by Rabbi Ha to those who suffered
from sensual temptations. It occurs in twb separate passages of the Talmud.2 I
cannot quote the passages, but the purport of them amounts to this, that the sin
of fornication is permissible if it be effectually concealed. Another Rabbinic rule
about divorce is just as thin a disguise, just as cynical a concession. " A man
must not marry a womanm'ft the intention of divorcing her; but if he previously
inform her that he is going to marry her for a season, it is lawful." 3
Again, in spite of their boundless professions of reverence for Scripture, many
of their schemes of interpretation — gematria, notarikon, &c. — were used to get
rid of facts and meanings which they disliked. Instances of this in the LXX.
are very numerous, and they occur frequently in the Targums. For instance:
disgusted with the notion that Moses should have married an ^Ethiopian woman
(Numb. xii. 1), Jonathan renders Koosith (Cushite) by " of fair face," because the
letters oi Koosith = 736, and the words Japhath march give the same sum ! This
was to expand the interpretation of Scripture into the number of positive inte
gral solutions of an indeterminate equation !
Shammai, the narrow-minded rival of Hillel, was so scrupulous, that he nearly
starved his little son on the Day of Atonement, and made a sort of booth of his
daughter-in-law's bed that his little grandson (just born I) might keep the Feast
of Tabernacles (Succah, ii. 9). Yet we are told that he was a luxurious and self
ish man. It is easier to tithe mint than to live a holy life. Those who venture
to say that Jesus was too bitter and severe against the Pharisees, must remember
the saying attributed to King Alexander Jannseus, that a " real Pharisee was one
who wished to play the part of Cozbi, and to receive the reward of Phinehas."

EXCURSUS X. (Page 555.)
Was the Last Supper an Actual Passover ?
It is certain, and is all but universally acknowledged, being expressly stated
by all the Evangelists, that our Lord was crucified on Friday.,4 and rose on
Sunday, lying during the hours of the Jewish Sabbath in the tomb of Joseph of
Arimathea. It is therefore certain that He ate His Last Supper, and instituted
the Sacrament of the Eucharist, on the evening of Thursday; but was this Last

i C. D. Ginsburg, " Sabbatic Year " in Kitto, iii. 722. — For the most favorable view that
can be given of these legal Actions, see R. Astruc, Studies on the Pentateuch; and Judah
Ben Halevy, The Khosari, iii. §§ 46, 47, quoted by Cohen, Les Diicides, xi . 3
2 Bab. Kiddushim, 40 a ; Chagiga, 16 a. See the forcible remarks of GfrSrer. " Heuch-
elei ist ein Laster zu dem die Menschen von Natur sehr geneigt sind, wird sie vollends
durch geheiligte Autoritaten gebilligt, wie hier, so muss sie alle Stande ergreif en." 4»6
Jahrh. des Hells, i. 167.)
3 McCaul, Old Paths, p. 376.
4 Matt, xxvii. 62 : Mark xv. 42 ; Luke xxiii. 54; John xix. 31. See, however, Westcott s
Introduction, p. 323.

692 APPENDIX.
Supper the actual Paschal Feast, or an anticipation of it? was it eaten on Nisan
13, or Nisan 14 — i. e., in the year of the Crucifixion did the first day of the
Passover begin on the evening of a Thursday or on the evening of a Friday?
The question would, of course, be settled — (1) If we knew with certainty the
date of our Lord's crucifixion, and (2) could rely on the Jewish calendars with
sufficient conviction to be sure on what day of the week in that year the Pass
over felL But as neither of these data can be depended on, we must turn for
the solution of the question to the Evangelists alone. Let us observe, in passing,
that, as all the Evangelists are agreed as to the main order of the events, the
question as to whether the Last Supper was or was nor, the Paschal Feast, though
a question of deep interest for us, is not one which directly affects the object of
the Evangelists in writing the life of Christ.
Now it must be admitted that the Synoptists are unanimous in the use of
expressions which admit of no natural explanation except on the supposition
that the Passover did begin on the evening of Thursday, and therefore that
Thursday was Nisan 14, and that the Last Supper was in reality the ordinary
Paschal Feast.
This appears from the following passages : — Matt. xxvi. 2 — "Ye know that
after two days is the Passover ; " id. 17 — " Now the first day of unleavened bread
the disciples came to Jesus, saying unto him, Where wilt thou that we prepare
for thee to eat the Passover ?" 18 — "I will keep the Passover at thy house;"
19 — " They made ready the Passover " [cf. Mark xiv. 14 — 16 ; Luke xxii. 11 — 13].
St. Luke is even more explicit, for he says (xxii. 7) — " Then came the day of
unleavened bread, when the Passover must be killed; " id. 15 — " With desire have
I desired to eat this Passover ' with you before I suffer."
And every other allusion to the day made by the Evangelists is equally plain ;
so that if they be cprrect in their statements, we must suppose that Peter and
John procured from the Temple the Paschal Lamb between three and five in the
afternoon, which was the Jewish (though not the Samaritan) interpretation of
the expression "between the two evenings" — the time specified by the Law for
the slaying of the lamb.
But now when we turn to the Gospel of St. John it seems equally indisputa
ble on his authority that the Last Supper was not the Paschal Feast, and that
the Passover really began on the Friday evening, and consequently that Thurs
day was the 13th, not the 14th, of Nisan.
For, passing over the disputed expression, " Before the Feast of the Passover,"
in John xiii. 1 (which is capable, though not naturally or probably, of another
explanation),2 we find that some of the disciples imagine that Jesus had sent
i The Greek is tovto rb natrxa, and therefore cannot of itself be meant to imply " this
meal as a sort of Passover," although such a meaning may have been, and probably was,
Involved in the actual Aramaic words spoken by Jesus. Prof. Westcott argues that
though language like this, taken alone, would clearly point to the Paschal meal, yet this
natural meaning of the words could not be intended by the Evangelists, since their clear
identification of the day of crucifixion, as Nisan 14, excludes such a signification (Intro
duction, p. 331). We admit at once that our difficulties may arise from imperfect knowl
edge of ritual and other customs which would be perfectly familiar to the Jews ; but it
still seems impossible to believe that the Synoptists used these expressions knowing that
the meal eaten was not the Passover, when a word of explanation, or the slightest varia
tion of language, would have removed all possibility of mistake.
2 Some refer the words to ayoHrijcras or etSui ; but, as Mr. Sanday remarks, we usually date
acts, not feelings (Fourth Gospel, p. 202).

APPENDIX. 693
out Judas to "buy those things that we have need of against the feast; ' •>. and
that the priests and Pharisees "went not into the judgment-hall lest they should
be defiled;2 but that they might eat the Passover." St. John also says in so
many words that the Friday of the crucifixion was " the preparation, of the Pass
over ; " * and that the following Sabbath was " a high day " 4 — evidently because
it was at once a Sabbath and the first day of the Paschal Feast.
How is this apparent contradiction to be reconciled? It must, I think, be
frankly confessed, that many of the solutions offered are eminently unsatisfac
tory ; depending upon the assumption of Jewish customs and Jewish forms of
speech which not only have no authority in their favor, but which even contra
vene such authority as we have. To go through and to sift them all would
require a volume. Here I can only allude to some of the more important solu
tions, and then give the explanation which, after repeated and careful considera
tion of the question, appears to me the only satisfactory one.
1. That the day for keeping the Passover was fixed by astronomical consider
ations in which the possibility of error led to the observation of different
days. 2. That " between the two evenings " must be interpreted to mean between
the evening of the 13th and that of the 14th of Nisan, or between the evenings
'of the 14th and 15th, and therefore that the Passover might be eaten on either
of those days.
3. That Jesus ate the Passover at the proper legal time, but the Jews, or
some of them, in their zeal and hatred against Him, put off their Passover till
the next evening.6
4. That " to eat the Passover " is an expression not confined to eating the
Paschal lamb, but might be used also of eating the chagiga, and generally of
keeping the entire feast, and that this explains the expressions used by St. John."
5. That the supper spoken of by St. John is different from that described by
the other Evangelists.
6. That when the 14th of Nisan fell on a Friday, the Paschal lamb was not
killed till the 15th, in order to avoid the observance of two Sabbaths.'

1 If the Passover had actually been eaten at that time, the expression would be quite
inappropriate ; and it is further probable that during the feast all ordinary business was
suspended. 2 Joseph of Arimathea did indeed " go to Pilate " on this day before the evening (Mark
xv. 43); but it cannot be inferred from this that he had eaten his Passover. It maybe
that he did not actually enter Pilate's house, or his notions of what constituted ceremo
nial defilement may have been less scrupulous than those of the Pharisees : for that some
Jews must even have gone into the judgment-hall without noticing the " defilement " Is
clear. 3 *apatTKevri may indeed merely mean Friday, but it is perfectly Incredible that St. John
should have spoken of the day of the crucifixion as 7rapno-xei,T) to5 ir&trxa. in the sense of
"Friday in Paschal week," if Friday had been actually "the first day of unleavened
bread." 4 In John xix. 31, /leyaAi) ii/iipa seems to represent yom tdbh, i. e., the first or last day of
an octave feast ; the intermediate days were called moed katdn (6epp).
6 It is surprising to find this theory adopted by Bishop Wordsworth on the authority of
Eusebius. n The chagiga was eaten at other festivals also (Deut. xvi. 16), and there was nothing
specifically Paschal about it.
i This solution is adopted by Calvin (among others) ; but we have no reason for sup
posing that this custom was adopted till some centuries later.

694 APPENDIX.
7. That the Last Supper was a perfectly regular Paschal meal, but was eaten,
by anticipation, a day earlier than the usual time. '
Such hypotheses might be almost indefinitely multiplied, and some of them
have been maintained with much learning; but none of them have commanded
any general assent, either from failing to satisfy the natural probabilities of the
case, or from being wholly unsupported by any adequate evidence. And even
if we can explain how it came to happen that there could be this apparent dis
crepancy, it seems scarcely consistent with critical honesty to deny that the dis
crepancy really exists. If we construe the language of the Evangelists in its
plain, straightforward, simple sense, and without reference to any preconceived
theories, or supposed necessities for harmonizing the different narratives, we
should be led to conclude from the Synoptists that the Last Supper was the
ordinary Paschal meal, and from St. John that it was not.
Assuming, then, for the moment, that our decision must be formed on con
flicting testimonies, must we suppose that strict accuracy here rests with St. John
or with the Synoptists ?
We answer, that it must be regarded as all but certain that St. John's language
is here the most strictly correct, and that the Last Supper was not the actual and
legal and ordinary Paschal meal, which we should suppose it to have been if the
Synoptists alone had come down to us. The grounds for this conviction are the'
following : —
1. The extreme improbability that St. John, whose accounts of the Last Supper
are incomparably more full than those of the other Evangelists, and who was
more immediately and completely identified with every act in those last tragic
scenes than any one of the Apostles, should yet have gone out of his way to
adopt an error on a point so remarkable. There were many reasons why the
Last Supper should, in the course of a few years, have come to be identified,
even in the memory of the Evangelists, with the Paschal meal ; there could be
no reason, except the real fact of -the case, why it should have been carefully and
expressly distinguished from it.2 Thursday, the day on which all leavened bread
was removed from the houses, would most naturally be confused with Friday,
the first day of the Passover, especially at a time when little or no, regard was
paid to chronological niceties ; but, on the other hand, it is perfectly incredible
that St. John could have " invented," or got into circulation, a statement con
flicting with the general stream of tradition.
2. The certainty that the Friday was spent, and spent apparently without any
scruples, in a scene of work, turmoil, and excitement, such as would have been

' Other theories still more baseless may be found recorded in Andrews, Life of our
Lord, pp. 369—397 : e. g., that of Rauch, that the Passover could be legally killed on the 15th
as well as the 14th of Nisan ; and that of Schneckenburger, that Jesus was crucified on
Wednesday and lay four days in the grave. Professor Westcott's deservedly high author
ity gives indeed some sanction to the tenability of this latter opinion (Introduction, p.
322), but Luke xxiii. 54, 56 seems alone sufficient to set it aside. Matt. xii. 40 arises from
the Jewish custom of regarding " any fragment of a day, however short, as a wx'iV'po"!"
just as, in reckoning the years of a reign, they counted the shortest fragment of a year as
a whole year. [There is something analogous to this in English law. A person born on
February 20 legally comes of age at midnight on February 18.]
2 Unless, which on other grounds seems most improbable, the Quarto-deciman contro
versy has anything to do with it.

APPENDIX. 695
wholly unsuited to the first day of a pre-eminently sacred festival.1 Yet, if the
meal of the previous evening was the Passover, Friday must have been a Feast-
Sabbath, and although Feast-Sabbaths were not observed so strictly as the weekly
Sabbath, yet it appears, even on the testimony of late writers like Maimonides,
that a certain amount of solemnity attached to them.
3. The fact that no single circumstance is alluded to which shows that there
was any observation of the day whatever as a day of solemnity or of festivity.
And yet, so strict were the notions of the Jews about these Feast-Sabbaths, that
even Hillel decided that if a hen laid an egg on a Feast-Sabbath it ought not to
be eaten.2 But how, Neander asks, could the first day of the principal feast be
treated as an ordinary Friday ? All difficulties are removed by supposing that
it was only a common Friday, and that the next day was at once the Sabbath
and the first day of the Passover feast.
4. The fact that, before any apparent discrepancy in the Gospels had been
noticed, early Christian tradition was predominant in the assertion that the
Last Supper was different from the Passover.3
5. The sense of inherent and symbolical fitness in the dispensation which
ordained that Christ should be slain on the. day and at the hour appointed
for the sacrifice of the Paschal lamb.4
6. The fact that Jewish tradition, with no object whatever to gain by mis
leading us in this particular, fixes the death of Christ on the 14th Nisan,6 the
erebh Pesach, or evening before the Passover.
7. The fact that the language of St. Paul is most naturally interpreted on
the supposition that the Last Supper was not the Passover, but another insti
tution destined to supersede it (1 Cor. v. 7 ; xi. 23).
8. The fact that if Jesus had really partaken of the Passover on the very
evening before His death, the Jews might fairly have argued that the observ-
i Joseph buys the " linen cloth " (Mark xv. 46). The women prepare spices and oint
ments (Luke xxiii. 56) ; Simon the Cyrenian is coming home (in-' iypov) apparently from a
day's husbandry (Mark xv. 21 ; Luke xxiii. 26). On the Feast-Sabbaths and mode of observ
ing them, see Lev. xxiii. 7, 8. "Ye shall do no servile work therein," is an ordinance so
important that it is twice emphatically repeated. We are told that in Galilee, at any rate.
the first day of the Feast was very strictly observed, so that even if Jewish custom had
sanctioned all this buying, selling, working, &c, at Jerusalem, we should not expect to
find it among the Apostles (John xiii. 29).
2 In Beza, f. 36, and Mishna, Jam Tobh. 5, 2, it is expressly said that criminal proceedings
were inadmissible on feast days ; cf. Philo, in Flacc, p. 976.
3 So Apollinaris, Clement of Alexandria, Jul. Africanus, Hippolytus, Tertullian (" die
prima azymorum quo agnum ut occiderent ad vesperam a Moyse fuerat praeceptunV'^t
Adv. Jud. 8), &c. See Routh, Bell Soar. i. 168 ; Westcott, Introduction, p. 320. The identifi
cation of the Last Supper with the Passover appears to date mainly from the time of
Chrysostom. Some, who refuse to see a real discrepancy, adopt one of the expedients
suggested by Chrysostom, viz., either that by " Passover " St. John means the entire feast
(John = Synoptists) ; or that Jesus ate the Passover before the proper time (Synoptists =
John). (Keim, III. ii. 464 ; but compare 476, n. 4).
4 The "ninth hour" (Matt, xxvii. 46, &c), or three o'clock, would be the first legal
moment at which the lamb could be slain according to the Jewish interpretation of " the
two evenings."
» Sanh. vi. 2. (Similarly Erebh. ydm Kippur means the evening before the Day of Atone
ment.) Salvador and the author of the Sepher Jeshuah Hannotseri actually argued that
the Romans had far more to do with the crucifixion than the Jews, because the Jews could
not have crucified on the first day of the Passover (Sepp) ; but Jewish traditions themselves
here contradict the erroneous common impression.

696 APPENDIX.
ance of the Passover, and therefore of the entire Mosaic ritual, was for ever
binding on the Christian, no less than on the Jewish Church.
If, then, we conclude that the view which we derive from St. John's Gos
pel is literally correct, we may further consider whether it is in any way
borne out by incidental notices preserved in the Synoptists. We find that there
is incidental confirmation of this kind which we cannot ignore ; although the
force of it is undoubtedly weakened by the conflicting Jewish testimonies, as to
what might and what might not be done on the days of these sacred festivals.
i. We find, for instance, that the disciples (John xiii. 22) suppose Judas to
have left the room in order to buy what things they had need of against the feast.
ii. Not only does Judas leave the room, but he is afterwards followed by
our Lord and His disciples — an action which may very possibly have become
sanctioned by universal custom, but was not in accordance with the strict
injunctions of the law (Exod. xii. 22).
iii. Judas hires a band composed, in part at least, of Levitical officers (Luke
xxii. 52), and comes by night to arrest Jesus — - an event which could hardly
have been regarded as consonant with a night of peculiar solemnity.
iv. The Sanhedrin had already come to a distinct conclusion that it would be
dangerous and impolitic to kill Jesus on the feast day (Mark xiv. 2) ; yet if the
Last Supper was the Paschal meal, this was the very thing which they did. On
the other hand, if the Last Supper was not the Passover, we see a reason for
precipitating the arrest and hurrying on the execution.1
v. Herod Agrippa did not indeed arrest Peter during " the days of unleavened
bread," but he expressly avoided putting him to death till the feast was over.
His execution was to be delayed till after the Passover (Acts xii. 4).
vi. The Synoptists, while they speak of bread and wine, give not the remo
test hint which could show that a lamb formed the most remarkable portion of
the feast.2
vii. The general incidents of the banquet as recorded by them bear no dis
tinctive resemblance to the very peculiar ceremonies of the Paschal feast; 8 some
1 It is true that the hostile members of the Sanhedrin were quite capable of violating
the sacredness of the day, or might have defended themselves by the supposed interests
of religion (cf. the opinion of R. Akiba, Sanhedr. x. 4). But the two robbers at any rate
had committed no theological offence.
2 Had the lamb been there, then Peter, if not Jesus Himself, would, according to Jew
ish custom, have been compelled to slay the lamb with his own hands in the Temple pre
cincts, drive through it a spit of pomegranate wood, and carry it away on his shoulders to
be roasted whole. For the lambs were slain in a very solemn and formal manner. The
people were admitted into the Temple only in groups, and the priests, standing in two
long lines from the entrance to the altar with cups of gold and silver, passed the blood of
the lambs from hand to hand, and poured It into two openings by the side of the altar.
Meanwhile there were alternate blasts of trumpets and chantings of the Hallel. It is
impossible to suppose that the Priests would have sanctioned for any one— and least of
all for this little band of Galilseans — an isolated departure from the universal custom.
3 Ex. gr. we have not a word about the lamb, the mazzdth or unleavened bread, the
merortm or bitter herbs, the sauce charoseth, the hagada or announcement, the four or five
oups of wine. The "hymn," on the other hand, has been identified with the Hallel, and
the " cup of blessing " in 1 Cor. x. 16 with the cds habber&chah ; but the first particular is
inconclusive, the second expression metaphorical. The many modifications of the old
memorial feast which have now been sanctioned for centuries by Jewish usage, have sim
ply resulted from necessity. After the destruction of Jerusalem the Passover could not
any longer be observed in accordance with the Mosaic regulations, and therefore it be
came a mere secondary question to what extent its observances could be relaxed and
altered. *

APPENDIX. 697
of them, such as the washing of the feet, and the absence of all hurry in the
banquet, are incongruous with its meaning and character.
viii. Several incidental expressions faithfully preserved by them seem to show
that this Supper was eaton because the true Passover could not be eaten ; such
as " my time is at hand " (Matt. xxvi. 18) — as though this were a reason why He
should anticipate the ordinary meal. Something, too, of the same kind seems to
be involved in the expression of the earnest desire, of Jesus to eat " this Passover
with them before He suffered," particujarly, if we attach any importance to the
remarkable passage in Hippolytus, ovxiri cpdyopai rd itddxa, " I shall never
again eat the Passover," which, if it be a reminiscence of Luke xxii. 16, would
be a prophecy that He was to be put to death before the actual Paschal feast.1
We conclude, then, that the Last Supper was not the Paschal meal. Such a
meal could now have had no significance for Him, who, as the True Paschal
Lamb, was now about to be offered ; nor for the Apostles, who would henceforth
recognize Him in that capacity.
But, on the other hand, nothing is easier than the supposition that, before the
Synoptic Gospels assumed their final form, the Last Supper (to which the meta
phorical name of itddxa was often given) should have been identified with the
ordinary Jewish Passover ; and the more so if, as is most probable, Jesus had
Himself spoken a few words to show that this sacrament which He thus ordained
was to be a new feast which should take the place of the ancient Passover ; and if
the near approach of the actual Passover, perhaps even the observance of one or
two Paschal customs, gave a certain Paschal tinge to the actual meal. In fact,
although the memorial (itddxa pvijpovevrtxdv) as distinguished from the sac
rificial Passover (it. Bvdijuov) was unknown until after the destruction of Jeru
salem, yet the supposition of Grotius, that the meal eaten by Christ bore a sort
of general relation to the actual Paschal meal, is by no means improbable.
To sum up, then, it seems to me, from careful and repeated study of much that
has been written on this subject by many of the best and most thoughtful wri
ters, that Jesus ate His Last Supper with the disciples on the evening of Thurs
day, Nisan 13, i. e., at the time when, according to Jewish reckoning, the 14th
of Nisan began ; that this supper was not, and was not intended to be, the actual
Paschal meal, which neither was nor could be legally eaten till the following
evening ; but by a perfectly natural identification, and one which would have
been regarded as unimportant, the Last Supper, which was a quasi-Passover, a
new and Christian Passover, and one in which, as in its antitype, memories of
joy and sorrow were strangely blended, got to be identified, even in the memory
of the Synoptists, with the Jewish Passover, and that St. John, silently but
deliberately, corrected this erroneous impression, which, even in his time, had
come to be generally prevalent. 2
1 Hippolytus expressly says ovKeipayerb Kara voaov irdcrxa.4^ Hence the Eastern Church
always used leavened bread at the Eucharist ; as did the Western Church also down to the
ninth century.
2 1 have said nothing about the obscure and meagre history of what is called " the
Paschal controversy," or dispute between the Eastern and Western Churches as to the
proper time of keeping Easter, because it is now generally (though not universally) agreed
that it has little or no bearing on the question before us. See Sanday, Fourth Gospel, p,
211; Westcott,. Introduction, p. 320 ; and on the other side, Keim, III. 476—478.
88

698 APPENDIX.
EXCURSUS XI. (Page 568.)
Old Testament Quotations.
The subject of the quotations from the Old Testament by the writers of the
New is far too wide to be treated in the narrow limits of an excursus. All that
I purpose here to do is to furnish the reader with a few facts in support of those
principles at which I have glanced more than once in the body of the work, and
which appear to me to be the only ones adequate to remove the difficulties by
which the subject is encompassed.
The general phenomena of these quotations have recently been examined and
tabulated with great care by Mr. D. C. Turpie, in his book, The Old Testament in
the New. He establishes the following remarkable results : — That there are in the
New Testament 275 passages which may be regarded — all but a very few of
them quite indisputably — as quotations from the Old ; and that of these, there
are only 53 in which the Hebrew, the Septuagint, and the New Testament
agree — i. e., in which the Hebrew is correctly rendered by the LXX., and
quoted from the LXX. by Apostles and Evangelists. Besides these there are 10
passages where the incorrect version of the LXX.. has been altered into accord
ance with the Hebrew ; 76 where the version of the LXX. is correct, but has
been varied by the New Testament writers into less agreement with the original ;
37 where a faulty version of the LXX. has been accepted ; and no fewer than 99
where the New Testament differs alike from the Hebrew and from the LXX.
This result may be tabulated as follows : —
Passages in which the LXX. version is correctly accepted . . . .53
" " " " correctly altered .... 10
" " " " incorrectly accepted . . .37
" " " •' incorrectly altered ... 76
Passages in which the Hebrew, the LXX., and the New Testament all
differ  99
Of course it will be understood that in the above tabulation, (i.) many of the
differences are extremely minute, and (ii.) that the words "correct" and " incor
rect " merely mean an accurate agreement or disagreement with the original
Hebrew. To these must be added three passages (John vii. 38, 42, and Eph. v.
14) which can only be classed as doubtful allusions.
The important bearing of these results on the letter-worshipping theory of
" inspired dictation " will be seen at once. It is hardly too much to say that
while they leave untouched the doctrine of a Divine grace of inspiration and
superintendence, they shatter to pieces the superstitious and anti-scriptural dog
matism which asserts that every " word and letter " of the Holy Book is super-
naturally inspired. I dwell upon the subject — I have repeatedly referred to it
— because I feel a deep conviction that to hold the theory of inspiration in this
latter form is, in the first place, to deny the plain language of Scripture itself, the
plain teaching of Christ, and the plain indications deducible from apostolic and
prophetic usage ; and in the second place, to incur the guilt of setting up a colos
sal and perilous stumbling-block in the path of all rational godliness.
I have, in the plainest and most candid manner, stated what seem to me the
sole truly orthodox and Scriptural views on the subject of Inspiration in some

APPENDIX. 699
papers printed in Vol. I. of the Bible Educator. To those papers I must refer
any theological critic who does not understand my point of view. It is impos
sible for me here to re-state the full arguments into which I there have entered ;
but it may warn insufficiently educated readers from uncharitable attacks upon
my references to this subject, to know that the views which I have supported
are also those of not a few of those living as well as of former theologians whose
names stand highest, and whose authority is the most deservedly respected, in
the Church of England. Conspicuous among the latter are the names of Luther
and Calvin. Any one who will read the comment of Luther on the 20th Psalm,
and that of Calvin on Psalms viii., xl., and Ixviii., will perhaps be surprised to see
the freedom with which they have expressed on this subject the common sense
aud honest view which may startle the supporters of a mechanical theory of
inspiration, but would not have startled on the one hand an Origen, a Jerome, an
Augustine, a Gregory of Nyssa ; or on the other, the leading intellects among
the great Reformers.

EXCURSUS XII. (Page 602.)
Notes on the Talmud.
Anything more utterly unhistorical than the Talmud cannot be conceived. It
is probable that no human writings ever confounded names, dates, and facts with
a more absolute indifference. The genius of the Jews is the reverse of what in
these days we should call historical. By the change of a 1 into a T Romans find
themselves transmogrified into Idumeans ; Vespasian is confounded with Titus,
Titus with Trajan, Trajan with Hadrian, Herod with Jannseus. When we come
to the names of the Rabbis we find an intolerable confusion of inextricable
Hanans, Joshuas, and Simeons. As for events, they are, in the language of a
profound and admiring student, " transformed for the edification, and even for
the amusement of the audience. History is adorned and embellished by the
invention of an imagination, poetic, but often extravagant; truth is not suffi
ciently attractive ; everything is magnified and extended." Jerusalem, says a
R. Samuel, included twenty-four cities ; each city had twenty-four quarters ;
each quarter twenty-four roads, &c, &c. In Bethyr, one quarter of the city was
engaged in song and dance, while, from another, torrents of blood were rolling
four or forty miles to the sea.1
When to all these sources of doubt is added the immense uncertainty of the
readings, the " lapidary brevity " of the style, the dim indirectness of the allu
sions, aud the intentional or affected obscurity of many of the oracular utterances
of the Rabbis, it may well be supposed that the Talmud must be used with
caution. It is not only probable, but a, well-known fact, that many of the
apparently wild and absurd stories of the Talmud are only the veil adopted by
timidity in the days of persecution. Jewish writers were driven to indicate

l Gittin, 58 a (Derenbourg. Hist, de la Pal. d'apres les Thalmuds, p. 11). It is, however,
fair to add that these and similar passages are meant to be taken uot literally (uvsn >b'?),
but hyperbolkally, in ordinary Oriental fashion (iion jib^). See Reland, Antt. Hebr., p. 140.
"If you cannot find the kernel," says Maimonides, " let the shell alone, and learn to say,
' I cannot understand this.'" The Jews themselves utterly despise many of the HagadMh
or legends of which the Talmud is full.

700 APPENDIX.
obscurely and enigmatically the teaching and the notions which they dared not
publicly propound. To this class of enigmas (cpaovavra dvvsroidiv) belong
the story about Absalom's eye, the bone of Goliath, &c.
It has been asked by some — r as, for instance, by Mr. Deutsch — whether.it is
fair to judge of the Talmud by brief extracts, separated from the context. I
answer, first, that any one may now examine for himself whole treatises of the
Talmud, both Mishna and Gemara, in translations of unquestionable fidelity ; and
secondly, that my own views about the Talmud are drawn quite as much from
Jewish writers, such as Maimonides, Gratz, .Geiger, Jost, Munk, Derenbourg,
Schwab, Cohen, Frankl, Raphall, Deutsch, Salvador, and others, as from writers
like Lightfoot, Schottgen, Otho, Surenhuys, Buxtorf, Reland, Wetstein, Gfrdrer,
Etheridge, Pieritz, and others. I have consulted all these writers, and the view
which I derive from the professed admirers and adherents of Rabbinic literature
is quite as unfavorable as that which I get even from Eisenmenger and Wagen-
seil. Some excellent maxims — even some close parallels to the utterances of Christ
— may be quoted, of course, from the Talmud, where they lie imbedded like
pearls in " a sea " of obscurity and mud (TlDpnn O11) 1 It seems to me indispu
table — and a matter which every one can now verify for himself — that these
are amazingly few, considering the vast bulk of national literature from which
they are drawn. And, after all, who shall prove to us that these sayings were
always uttered by the Rabbis to whom they were attributed ? Who will supply
us with the faintest approach to a proof that (when not founded on the Old
Testament) they were not directly or indirectly due to Christian influence or
Christian thought? And how many of them are there which are independent of
the Old Testament ? Even Mr. Deutsch, one of the most ardent admirers of the
Talmud, says, " These sayings were often tender, poetical, sublime ; but they
were not absolutely new ; there was not one that was not substantially contained
in the canonical and uncanonical writings of the Old Testament." '
Sayings of this kind, which have been brought into comparison with passages
in the Gospels, are among others, the following :
Matt. v. 9. — "Love peace, and pursue it at any cost." Hillel (Pvrk Abhdth, i. 12) ;
cf. Ps. cxxxiii. i.
Id. y. 10. — "Remember that it is better to be persecuted than to persecute." (Derech
-, ; Erets Rab. ii.)
Id. v. .22. — "Be not prone to anger." (P. Abhdth, ii. 10 ; Pesachim, 67.)
Id. v. 28. — A close parallel in Massecheth Kalah.
Id. v. 39. — "If thy companion call thee an ass, put the saddle on thy back." (Babha
Kama, 8, 7.) Cf. Ecclus. xxviii. ; Prov. xx. 22 ; xxiv. 29.
Id. v. 42 ; vi. 1 — 4. — "He who giveth alms in secret is greater than Moses himself."
(Chagiga, i., &c, &c.) Cf. Ecclus. xxix. 15, 16 ; Prov. xix. 17, &c.
Id. vi. 7. — "It is better to utter a short prayer with devotion, than a long one without
fervor." (Shabbath, 10; Menachdth, 110.)

1 Remains, p. 138. R. Joshua Ben Levi proved (to hi3 own satisfaction doubtless) that
the Oral Law had been delivered to Moses on Sinai from Exod. xxiv. 12, because there the
Tables — the Ten Commandments; the Law = Pentateuch; commandments =Mishna ;
"which I have written "- Prophets and Hagiographa; and "that thou mayst teach
them " — Gemara (Berachbth, 5 a). (Schwab, id. p. 234.)

APPENDIX. 701
Matt. vi. 31. — "He who having but one piece of bread in his basket, says, ' What shaU I
eat to-morrow f isa man of little faith." (Sota, 48.) Cf . Ps. xxxiv.
10 ; cxlvii. 9, &c.
These instances (and they might be multiplied from many sources) are chosen
from a number more in Cohen's Les Deicides, E. T., 150, seq. This Jewish writer
urges them as diminishing the "originality " of Jesus. Such an argument, com
mon as it is, shows a total want of culture and insight. The " originality " of the
Son of God, if such a word can be used at all, consisted in this, that He saved
and regenerated a corrupt and dying world, on which the whole series of Jewish
doctors — Sopherim, Tanaim, Amorami, Seboraim, and Geontm — produced no
perceptible effect, and for which, from first to last, they and their " originality "
have the smallest possible significance.1
It is, however, fair to bear in mind (1) the heterogeneous character of the Tal
mud, ami (2) its character as being in great measure a corpus juris.
(1.) As regards the first point, I cannot do better than quote some of the remarks
of Mr. Deutsch, whose premature death, before he had well begun the intended
work of his life — & History of the Talmud — cannot be too deeply regretted. He
says, "All those manifold assemblies wherein a people's mental, social, and relig
ious life are considered and developed, are here represented — Parliament, Con
vocation, Law Courts, Academies, Colleges, the Temple, the Synagogue, even
the Lobby and the Common Room, have left realistic traces upon it. The authors
of this book, who may be counted by hundreds, were always the most prominent
men of the people in their respective generations, and thus, undesignedly and
designedly, show the fulness of this people's life and progress at every turn."
Elsewhere he speaks of it as "those mazes of legal enactments, gorgeous day
dreams, masked history, ill-disguised rationalism, and the rest which form the
Talmud and the Midrash." 2
(2.) But it is chiefly as a corpus juris that the Talmud must be considered.
'• Speaking of it strictly as a book, the nearest approach to it is Hansard. Like
Hansard, it is a law-book — a miscellaneous collection of parliamentary debates,
of bills, motions, and resolutions; with this difference, that in Hansard these
propositions, &c, gradually grow into an Act, while in the Talmud the Act is the
starting-point. . . . The Talmud in this wise contains — besides the social, crim
inal, international, human and divine law, along with abundant explanations of
laws not perfectly comprehended, corollaries, and inferences from the law, which
were handed down with more or less religious reverence — an account also of
the education, the arts, the sciences, the history and religion of this people for
about a thousand years." 3
This view of the Talmud as a sort of statute-book makes an important differ
ence in our estimate of it. The following remarks, with which I have been
favored by a friend, seem to me so original and so valuable — they seem, in fact,
to place the whole controversy about the Talmud in such a completely new light
— that I have asked his permission to incorporate them into this note : —
1 For further remarks oti this subject I may refer to my Scelwrs after God, pp. 181, 182,
320 ; and Witness of History to Christ (Hulsean Lectures), pp. 134, seq*
8 Deutsch, Literary Remains, p. 194.
-3 Id. ib., p. 136.

702 APPENDIX.
" The Talmud seems to be a corpus juris in which the law has not yet been differ
entiated from morality and religion. There is nothing exceptional in this non-
differentiation : perhaps we are exceptional in having outgrown the stage in
which it is normal. The strange thing is the prodigious quasi-scientific product
iveness of Judaism within a certain area, combined with such pre-historic, not to
say embryonic backwardness in the above respect. But even in this respect the
contrast is less striking if Judaism be compared with the developments and doc
uments of Hinduism and Islam.
" 1. If we remember that the Talmud is a corpus juris one thing is explained
immediately — namely, the rarity of moral or other truths of any value.
The wonder is that there are any at all. The Statute Book is more bulky
than the Talmud — at any rate the Reports are — and they contain no ' beau
tiful and noble things ' at all, unless perhaps in the obsolete parts. We don't look
for such things there. If English literature had been developed analogously
to Jewish, we should have the great thoughts of Hooker and Bacon, not to say
of Spencer and Shakespeare, imbedded in Coke upon Littleton. The arrangement
would be objectionable ; but not on the ground that there was so little great
thought in comparison to the amount of technicality.
"2. This first point is obvious on the most general view. But of the fictions
of Rabbinism I cannot believe a right view is to be taken without looking at the
fictions of other systems of law. Sir H. Maine has proved (Ancient Law, ch. ii.,
pp. 1 — 6) that legal fiction is the earliest, most imperfect, and most awkward
means — but a perfectly normal means — of law reform. No example that you
have adduced is more elaborate, more inconvenient, or more absurd than the
devices which had by law to be employed in this country every time a man cut off
an entail, from Edward IV. to 1833. Imaginary legal principles were too strong
to allow us to do in a straightforward manner what the necessities of society
insisted on having done in some way or other. In Judaism legal principles
resisted still more stoutly, because they were more an affair of religion and moral
ity than with us ; but the great point must have been the mischievous reaction
of the fiction-system upon religion and morality themselves, which must thus
have become steeped in hypocrisy. The cause of this would be the non-differ
entiation of law from morality and religion. The neglect of these considerations
makes the modern books suspicious in more than one respect. They seem to
treat the traditional form which conservatism obliged a piece of law to assume,
as if it was the essential thing ; and they regard the social necessities which had
to be provided for, as if they were rather superficially involved in the result,
instead of vice versa. And they seem to assume too readily that what the texts
represent as de jure in force was operative de facto. These two things never go
quite together, and they are peculiarly likely not to go together in a system which
was more or less calculated with reference to an ideal polity, with a Jerusalem
and a Temple supposed to be in existence to support it. And even the unhistor-
icalness of the Talmud (in which I suspect the writings of the Mohammedans
beat it hollow for extravagance) has something answering to it at home. Eng
lish law-books contain a number of historical statements, copied by one out of
another, which have a very suspicious look to a reader of any sort of independ
ence ; and in fact Rudolf Gneist says that there is a great deal of false history
which, as in a manner part of the law itself, is even more directly important to
the English law-student than the true.

APPENDIX. 703
" (3.) Casuiitry is in a moral point of view the most disastrous, or at least the
most obviously disastrous consequence of this anachronous extendedness of the
province of jurisprudence ; but also it is the least peculiar to Judaism. It is no
great harm (besides that the thing is inevitable) if morality is a department of
law, as long as things are in the early stage in which law itself is rather elastic.
But when law is highly developed in precision and minuteness, morality cannot
be stuffed into its pigeon holes without becoming immoral, and in fact irrational.
In obedience to logic, it is made immorally as well as irrationally strict; in order
to stand in any real relation to the facts of life it is made irrationally as well as
immorally lax. The necessity of this laxness*will be seen by taking any of the
Rabbinnical examples at which you shudder most, and asking what the moralist
is to do, if he is to prescribe for the magistrate and policeman as well. See the
pleadings in ' Pascal versus Escobar and others,' passim. Pascal's position is
untenable, unless it is recognized that morality is not a matter of rules at all.
Here the danger of Gospel-interpreters — and it is a danger from which few of
them altogether escape — is that of representing Christ as occupying the merely
negative or revolutionary position of Pascal. Now, that the action of Jesus was
not merely negative or revolutionary is sufficiently proved by the result. How
expressive is His saying, that there is no place reserved for those whose law-
abidingness does not transcend that of the men who are before all things zealous
for the Law.
"4. The most obviously disastrous thing about Judaism, in an intellectual
point of view, is not, I suppose, a necessary effect of its non-differentiation of law
from religion and morality, though surely an easy and natural one. I mean the
fact that its quasi-science is not founded even on the supposed necessities of an
imaginary or obsolete state of things, but upon the interpretation of a written
text. Within the ' four corners ' (as our lawyers have it) of this narrow field it
cuts itself off from all other intellectual culture. This distinguishes it from Hin
duism and Islam in their more energetic days, and still more (thanks partly to
the Greeks) from Rome. Mediaeval scholasticism makes some approach to the
like barrenness. One of the consequences was that folly of follies, the number-
and-letter lore.
" It seems to me that the apparent eccentricities of the Talmud cannot be
instructively set before the general reader without applying to them something
like the above considerations, which in other applications are considered obvious
enough." This view of the Talmud is slightly touched upon by Ewald, though he makes
no attempt to illustrate it by the comparative method. " When a supreme law
of life " he says, " has been already given, and without troubling themselves
about its ultimate foundations, men are only desirous to work it out into detail,
and, if necessary, to bring it into actual life by means of a countless multitude
of new regulations, . . . similar conditions every where produce similar re
sults. The scholastic labors of the Middle Ages and those of the Papal jurists
. . are essentially the same." •

l Ewald, Gexch. d. Volkes Isr. (E. Tr., V. 196). I have already made a similar remark with
out knowing that I had been anticipated.

704 APPENDIX.
"Les meilleurs des hommes," says Renan,1 "ont etS des juifs; les plus mali-
cieux des hommes ont aussi 6t6 des juifs. Race e'trange, vraiment marquee du
sceau de Dieu, qui a su produire parallelement et comme deux bourgeons d'une
m£me tige 1'Eglise naissante et le fanatisme feroce des revolutionnaires de Jeru
salem, Jesus, et Jean de Giscala, les apdtres et les zelotes sicaires, l'Evangile et
le Talmud! Faut-il s'efonner si cette gestation mysterieuse fut accompagnee de
dechirements, de delire, et d'une fieVre comme on n'en vit jamais ? " 488 The turn
of expression is open to criticism, but the fact is striking.

EXCURSUS XIII. (Page 606.).
The Sanhedrin.
Orthodox Jews ascribe the origin of the Sanhedrin to Moses (Exod. xviii.
24 — 26, &c), and identify it with the " elders of Israel " in Ezek. viii. 11, 12, and
the " elders of the Jews " in the days of Darius (Ezra vi. 8). 2 Some even saw
a germ of the Sanhedrin in the tribunal established by Jehoshaphat (2 Chron.
xix. 8— ll).s
The Sanhedrin was the successor of the Great Synagogue, the last member of
which died in the person of Simon the Just.
In 1 Mace. xiv. 28, the assembly of the Jews, which bestowed the supreme
power on Simon, father of John Hyrcanus, is called '¦ the great congregation of
the priests and people, and rulers of the nation, and elders of the country," cor
responding to the Hebrew names Keneseth, Roshi Abhdth, and Zakain ha-Arets ;
and it appears from coins that the Sanhedrin (the members of which are de
scribed much as in Mark xv. 1) are called the Chebher, or " Senate " of the
Jews. In this were included both Pharisees and Sadducees. John became a
Hellenizer (Phil-hellene : Jos. Antt. xiii. 11, § 3), and a Sadducee, and was the
first to adopt on his coins the Greek inscription and title of 'IovSd BadiXsvi.
At the end of a year he was succeeded by his brother Alexander Jannseus, who
quarrelled furiously with the Pharisees, but on his deathbed recommended his
wife Salome Alexandra to trust true Pharisees while she avoided the painted ones.
Salome accordingly gave them such privileges during her reign of nine years
that they ultimately ventured to summon her son Hyrcanus II. before their tri
bunal on the occasion alluded to on p. 607. It is on this occasion that we first
find the name Sanhedrin (JTirOD), which, although the Talmud talks of a Sanhe
drin in the days of Moses (Buxtorf. Lex. s. v.), is certainly not prse-Asmonaean •
indeed, until the HeUenizing days of Jason, this -Greek word would never have
been adopted by the people in place of their own term Beth Din, " House of
Judgment," or Keneseth haggeddla, "the great assembly."
In the Mishna mention is made of two kinds of Sanhedrin — the provincial
of five or seven members ; and the Grand Sanhedrin of seventy-one, with their
1 L'Antechrlst, p. 258. Elsewhere he says, "On peut dire de cette race le bien qu'on
voudra et le mal qu'on voudra, sans cesser d'etre dans le vrai ; car . . . le bon juif est un
6tre excellent, et le mfichant juif est un etre detestable. C'est ce qui explique la possi
bility . . . que l'idylle evangMique et les horreurs racontees par Josephe aient 6t6 des
realites sur la nieme terre, chez le meme peuple, vers le meme temps." «9 (p 486.)
2 liaphall, fftst. of the Jews, ii. 110.
3 Munk. Palestine, 194. See Reland, Antt. Hebr. 243, seqq.

APPENDIX. 705
Nasi and Ab Beth Din . These two distinguished functionaries 'seem to have
been regarded as representatives of the ancient Zouggdth, or "couples," who
were in their turn representatives of the Eshkoldth, or " grape-clusters." The
first Nasi under Hyrcanus II. is said to have been Joshua Ben Perachiah, and
.the first Ab Beth Din Nitai of Arbela.
It is said that in the Temple sat three Sanhedrins, or, as we should perhaps
call two of them, " Committees of the Sanhedrin," of twenty-three members
each ; the Great Sanhedrin of seventy-one met in the Lishcat HaggazUh ; an
other, or a committee of the same, in a chamber which abutted on the GMl
C"n), or division between the Court of the Gentiles and of the women ; and a
third at the gate of the Har ha-Beit, or Temple mountain. Derenbourg conjee- "
tures, with some probability, that the Grand Sanhedrin was but the reunion of
the three inferior ones of twenty-three (23 x 3 + 2) with the two presiding offi
cers, and that these three committees were composed, (i.) of priests, (ii.) of
Levites, and (iii.) of " notables," i. e., Sopherim, Tanaim, &c.' If this conjecture
be admitted, we may, perhaps, suppose that the three trials of our Lord took
place before these three divisions of the Sanhedrin ; or, if the trial before Hanan
be regarded as purely informal and extra-judicial, then the trial before Caiaphas
may conceivably be the third of these bodies which met at the foot of the Temple-
mountain. It gives some support to this conjecture that in Matt. xxvi. 57, " the
Scribes and elders " (= the " notables," i. e., the Sopherim, and ZekGnim) seem
to be distinguished from " all the chief priests and elders" — «'. e., the- Grand
Sanhedrin (id. xxvii. 1).
But it must not be forgotten that the Sanhedrin which condemned our Lord
was a dubious and hybrid kind of assembly. When the Sanhedrin had unani
mously rejected the claim of Herod on the authority of Deut. xvii. 15, the Tal
mud (Babha Bathra, 3 6) says that he exterminated them all except Babha Ben
Buta, whose eyes he put out ; and that the rebuilding of the Temple was under
taken by the adviee of the survivor in expiation of the atrocity.2 Whatever the
exact circumstances may have been, Herod, after the execution of Antigonus,
seems to have inflicted on the Sanhedrin a frightful vengeance, from which it
took them a long time to recover. It was soon after this that he thrust into the
High Priesthood creatures of his own, of Egyptian and Babylonian origin, such
as Simon and Joazar, the Boethusians from Alexandria, and a certain obscure
Hananel of Babylon (iepia raov ddrfporipaov, Jos. Antt. xv. 2, § 4), who may
possibly be identical with the Annas of the Gospels. For a time at least the real
Sanhedrin seems to have been suspended, and its functions usurped by an assem
blage of Herod's own adherents (Jos. Antt. xv. 7; §4), dvvayayaov rovi
otxeiovdrovi avrap; xvii. 3, § 1, dvviSpiov voov cpiXaov. The dignity of
sacerdotalism might give to this spurious assemblage an appearance of dignity,
but we have seen reason to believe that the Pharisees — here meaning by that
title the leading doctors — took little, if any, part either in its deliberations or its

i Hist. Pal., ch. vl., the facts of which I have here summarized. See too Ewald, Gesch.
d Volkes Isr. (B. Tr., V. 168). He says that much which is told us about the Sanhedrin in
Talmudic and later writings " flows from the Increasing want of the historical spirit which
characterized the Jews in the Middle Ages."
2 Josephus mentions a massacre of Pharisees (Antt. xvii. 2, § 4).

706 APPENDIX.
proceedings. They left it to the obscure Beni Bethyra,1 the Boethusians, the
Hananites, the Kantheras, the Kamhiths, the Phabis, and their adherents. The
meetings of the Sanhedrin of which Josephus speaks during this period were
arbitrary, incompetent, and special gatherings. The Romans and Herod between
them had abolished the old independent body.2 - It is true that Hillel, after over
coming the priestly pretensions of the Beni Bethyra, by quoting, as a last re
source, the authority of Shemaia 'and Abtalion, is said to have been made Nasi;
but Derenbourg is inclined to doubt the story altogether, and to distinguish
between Presidency of the Schools and Presidency of the Sanhedrin.3 At any rate,
if Hillel really was a Nasi of the Sanhedrin, his political action must have been
amazingly slight, considering that it is uncertain whether Josephus even recog
nizes his existence 4 or not.
At the time of our Lord's trial it is certain that both Hillel and Shammai were
dead. They had left no successors who attained immediate prominence. We
hear indeed of a Simeon, son of Hillel, but the sole recorded trait respecting him
is the aphorism that "nothing is superior to silence."

EXCURSUS XIV. (Page 606.)
Pharisees and Sadducees.
The origin of these names is buried in obscurity. All that is clear is that the
Pharisees were politically descended from the Chasidm (1 Mace. ii. 42 ; vii. 13),
and were the heroic-national party; while the Sadducees were the priestly-
aristocratic party, who allied themselves always with the ruling powrer, even when
that power was anti-national in its aims.
Derenbourg, who subjects these titles to an elaborate examination, supposes
that during the Graecomania which in the days of the Seleucid government
began to spread more and more widely among the Jews — especially under the
influence of "ungodly wretches" like Menelaus and Alcimus — the party which
felt it necessary to defend the scrupulous observance of the Law by a closer
'' hedge," began to urge an extension of that dpi^ia, or withdrawal from all
intercourse with the heathen, which was called in Hebrew Perishu-t (nF'lS),
a name which thus did not imply either political detachment or worldly separa
tion (Jos. Antt. xiii. 8, § 3 ; 2 Mace. xiv. 3).
The Asmonseans, however, and their party did not follow the Tanaim, or
Doctors, in these views which they considered exaggerated, but contented them
selves with that ordinary obedience to the written law which was not inconsistent
with Phil-hellenic tendencies, and for which they retained the title of Tsedakah, or
"righteousness" (npIS, Sixaiodvvij : cf. Prov. xvi. 31), a name which more
easily came into vogue, because the title of the last great and good Asmonsean,
Simeon, had been hatstsadik, " the Just."
i The well-known story of their dispute with Hillel is another indication of the hostile
position held by the Doctors towards the priests.
2 " Von Synedrien ist in der ganzen Herodaer und Rb'mer Zeit keine Spur." 490 (Jost, i.
278.) 3 Nasi was a title also given to the Chief of each tribe (Numb. iii. 24 ; xvi. 2, &c.) who in
Numb. iii. 32 is called Nasi of Nasim. (Munk, p. 195.)
4 Josippon substitutes the names of Hillel and Shammai for the Pollio and Sameas ol
Josephus, Antt. xv. 1, 8 1. (Munk, p. 545.)

APPENDIX. 707
But words which had originally described mere tendencies or aspirations, soon
developed into the injurious party-titles of Parouschim or Pharisees, and
Tsedukim or Sadducees, to describe respectively the party of the Rabbis, whose
tendencies were wholly patriotic > and popular, and that of the Priests, who were
aristocratic and conservative2 (Acts v. 17). Neither party willingly adopted
names which had gradually acquired an insulting force. In our Lord's time,
the names had gradually come to connote differences which were religious
as well as political. The Sadducees may broadly be described as rationalists, the
Pharisees as ritualists, names which, though not rigidly accurate, convey on the
whole a true impression of their respective positions.
Geiger, who in his Urschrift and Das Judenthum was perhaps the first to put
these parties in their true light, takes a different view of their origin. He derives
the name of the Sadducees from Zadok, a descendent of Phinehas, who held the
priesthood till the last unworthy representatives of Aaron's elder line were dis
placed by the sons of Mattathias, who belonged to the less distinguished priestly
family of Joarib.3 But the Sadducees continued to support the new power ;
while the Pharisees, inheriting the views of the separatists (Nibdalim, who
" separated themselves from the filthiness of the heathen," Ezra vi. 21), com
bated the pretensions, and usurped the influence of the privileged class. The
difficulty in adopting this view rises from the silence of Josephus and the Books
of Maccabees.
Common as is the name Pharisees in the Gospels, those who are so called
seem always to have called themselves by other names in preference — such as
Sopherim, " scribes," Thalmidi chakamin, " pupils of the sages," and Chabheerim,
or " confraternities." In several passages of the Talmud they are called " plagues
of Pharisees " (D'BTlB TVGD> J. Pea. viii. 8 ; J. Sota iii. 4, &c), and in one of these
they are ranked as equally objectionable with " imbecile devotees, sly sinners,
and bigoted women." But of course there were good and bad Pharisees, and
while Jewish writers themselves admit that "the heavy charges which the
Founder of the Christian faith brings against Pharisees are fully confirmed by the
Talmud "-(Sota, f. 22 o, &c.),4 yet these were the hypocrites whom Alexander
Jannseus called " dyed and varnished " Pharisees ; and we may hope that Nico
demus and Gamaliel were not isolated specimens of a nobler class. The Saddu
cees are seldom mentioned, because with the cessation of the temporal power
they practically ceased to exist as a party, although many of their distinctive
views were revived by a certain Hanan, and are continued to this day by the
Karaites. The wealth, rank, connections, and offices of the Sadducees gave them much
worldly influence and authority, but in all religious and ritual matters the people
l Qapto-aioi KaKovvrai flao-iXevtri Svva.fi.evoi jLta\t(rra avrutpao-aeiv 491 (Jos. Antt. xvii. 2, § 4).
2 Josephus distinctly says that connection with the priesthood is the one stamp of
Jewish nobility.
s Geiger (Urschr., p. 105) shows that the story of their origin from Zadok, a pupil of
Antigonus of Socho, who carried too far his master's principle that men ought to serve
God without desire for reward, is not mentioned in the Mishna or the Talmud, but Is first
found in the R. Nathan. If, as Epiphanius (Haeres. i. 4) supposes, the name is derived
from nix, "justice," the question occurs, why is it not Tsaddikim instead of Tsew&kim.
KSster's strange and isolated notion, that it Is a Hebrew transliteration of Stoics, is hardly
worth refuting.
4 Raphall, Hist, of the Jews, ii. 117.

708 APPENDIX.
sided so absolutely with the Doctors or Pharisees, that the Sadducees, even
against their real views, were often compelled to conform. This is the express
statement of Josephus,1 and is confirmed by the Talmud. "All your life you
teach without practising," bitterly exclaimed a Boethusian to the Priest, his
father. The reply was a humiliating confession that they could not practise their
real theories, but were obliged to conform to the teaching of the Doctors (D^n).
The Priest and his son in this story are believed to have been Hanan (the Annas
of the Gospels), and his son Hanan the younger, who figures in Josephus in no
very enviable colors, as the murderer of " James, the Lord's brother." 2
A striking Rabbinic story (Joma, 71 b) illustrates their want of moral influence
over. the people. On the great Day of Atonement the High Priest, followed by
the people, was leaving the Temple. Suddenly, however, the people caught
sight of Shemaia and Abtalion — the "couple" of the day — walking undis
tinguished among the rest. Instantly they abandoned the High Priest to form
an escort to the Doctors. " All hail to the men of the people," said the High
Priest bitterly to them, when they took leave of him. "All hail," they replied,
" to the men of the people who do the work of Aaron, and no hail to the son of
Aaron who does' not act like Aaron." Josephus, though his account of these two-
sects (Antt. xviii. 1, §§ 3, 4 ; xiii. 5, § 9 ; B.J. ii. 8, § 14) is little to be relied on,
and is probably borrowed in part from Nicolas of Damascus, is yet undoubtedly
right in saying that in spite of the rank of the Sadducees that had no real
reverence from the people. " They influence," he says, " the well-to-do " (rovi
Evitdpovi), "but have no popular following, while the Pharisees have the mul
titude as their allies."
I have several times spoken of the Sadducees as "worldly," and the epithet
is justified by the ostentation which made them desire to be served in vessels of
gold and silver, and to demand double dowry for every young girl married to a
priest; 3 and by the greed which suffered them to grow rich at the expense of
the people. Of the latter propensity two stories are told. One of them is a
, quarrel which they had with the Pharisees about the supply of victims for the
daily sacrifice, which the Pharisees very properly said ought to be provided by
the Temple treasury ; whereas the Sadducees, regarding the Temple treasure as
their own, wanted the victims to be paid for by separate subscriptions. Simi
larly the Sadducees claimed for the priests (i. e., for themselves) the use of the
meat-offerings, which the Pharisees said ought to be burnt on the altar. The
Pharisees won the day. and appointed two festivals in honor of the double vic
tory.4 Thus both Pharisees and Sadducees were constantly driven into extremes
by the repulsion of antagonistic errors.
Another story is that as they sold pigeons at the chanujdth, they multiplied to
such an extent the cases in which the sacrifice of a pigeon was necessary, that
the price of a single pigeon rose to a gold piece. Then R. Simeon Ben Gamaliel
cried, "By the Temple I will not sleep till I have reduced their price to a dena
rius." Accordingly he pointed out such numerous reductions to the necessity
i Antt. xviii. 1,6 4.
s Jos. Antt. xx. 9, 8 1 ; Jost, Joma, 1 ; Geiger, ITrschrift, 112.
• Abhdth de Rabbi Nathan, v. ; Kethubhbih, 1, 6. In the former passage we have a sort
of deliberate theory of Epicureanism.
4 MegUlath Taanith, 88 1, 19. They also arranged that the Temple tribute should be
received with great pomp (Jer Shekalim, 45 d; Gratz, iii. 460).

APPENDIX. 709
of making this offering, that the price of a pigeon sank to the fourth of a dena
rius.1 These shops are expressly called the shops of the sons of Hanan, and the
Talmud distinctly alludes to the want of uprightness in the management of them.2
The one maxim of the political life of a Sadducee seems to have been quietism,
-even at the expense of patriotism. No wonder the priestly party were disliked
and suspected, when ever since the days of Hyrcanus and Aristobulus the people
had found cause to complain of them, that they were seeking to change the gov
ernment of their nation in order to enslave them (Jos. Antt. xiv. 3, §2).
Josephus, in describing the rupture between John Hyrcanus and the Pharisees
(Antt. xiii. 10, § 6), distinctly states that the main difference between the two
sects consisted in the acceptance by the Pharisees and rejection by the Sadducees
of the Oral Law or tradition of the elders ; and although the assertion may be a
little too sweeping, it is undoubtedly fbunded on a real fact.
Ewald, who, in his History of the People of Israel? enters into a full account
of the Pharisees and Sadducees, points out how the Pharisees were led to
encourage and defend hypocrisy, and conventionalize all true piety, partly
by the character of the Levitical dispensation, partly from motives of ambition,
and partly out of strong antagonism to the Sadducees. Wishing to retain the
advantages which they had received from the Asmonsean revival of national
piety, "under the influence of ambition, and devoted more or less consciously
to their own interests, they made piety into a sort of art or trade in order per
manently to secure their own power."
After observing that we only know the Sadducees from the reports of their
avowed enemies, he says, " It was the school of freedom of life, of thought, and
of action; but it was a freedom which sprang out of the Greek age, with its
-deep moral degradation, which corresponded with it, and was acceptable to it."
But for this the Sadducees might have been of real use in counteracting the
rigidity and one-sidedness of Pharisaic development. But in their opposition to
this injurious scrupulosity they failed to note the deeper sores which at this
time were eating into the Jewish and Gentile world.
He speaks slightingly of the notices of these sects in Josephus (Antt. xiii. 5,
§9; Vii. 2; B. J. i. 5, §2; ii. 8, §2) as abrupt, arbitrary, and devoid of deep
knowledge, and says — too uncharitably — of Jost, Gratz, and Geiger, that their
views are baseless, " because they are themselves Pharisees, and desire to be
nothing else."

EXCURSUS XV. (Page 670.)
Traditional Sayings op Christ.
The apocryphal sayings (dypagoa Soy para) of Christ — i. «., the sayings
attributed to Him by early writers, but unrecorded in the New Testament4 —
have been collected and arranged by Prof. Westcott (Introd. to the Gosp., App.
C.) with his usual care and learning. I here quote only the most remarkable, or
i Kerit&th, i. 7.
'¦ J. Pea. i. 6.
3 Vol. V., p. 366, seqq., E. Tr.
4 Ex. gr. Acts xx. 35.

710 APPENDIX.
those which are not mere variations of his actual words, referring all who are
interested in the subject to Prof. Westcott (I. c), or Hofmann (Leben Jesu,
317—329). 1. For the remarkable story appended in D to Luke vi. 5, v. supra, p. 438.
2. Cod. D also appends to Matt. xx. 28, "But ye seek from little to increase, and
that from the greater there be a less."
3. " Show yourselves tried money-changers." (yivedBs rpaiteQirai Sonipoi).
(Epiphan. 44, 2.)
4. "He that wonders shall reign, and he that reigns shall rest." "Look with
wonder at that which is before you." (Clem. Alex. Strom, ii. 9, 45.)
5. "He who is near me is near the fire ; he who is far from me is far from the
Kingdom." (Orig. Horn, in Jerem., iii., p. 778; Didymus in Ps. lxxxviii. 8.)
6. "Keep the flesh pure and the seal unspotted." (Clem. Rom. Ep. ii. 8.)
7. "For those that are sick I was sick, and for those that hunger I suffered hun
ger, and for those that thirst I suffered thirst." (Orig. in Matt., I. xiii. 2.)
8. "In whatsoever I may find you in this will I also judge you." (Just. Mart.
Dial 47.)
9. "Never be joyful, except when ye shall look on your brother in love."
(Jer. in Eph. v. 3.)
These are the most remarkable. One or two others have been quoted or
alluded to in the body of the work (v. supr., pp. 251, &c), and of the remainder
some are wholly unworthy of our Lord, or spring from a desire to claim His
authority for false and exaggerated principles, or are mere amplifications and mis
quotations of His actual words.
One or two of the Mohammedan legends respecting Christ, preserved in the
Koran or elsewhere, are striking — e. g. :
" Jesus, the Son of Mary, said, ' He who longs to be rich is like a man who
drinks sea-water; the more he drinks the more thirsty he becomes, and never
leaves off drinking till he perishes.' "
" Jesus once said, ' The world is like a deceitful woman, who, when asked how
many husbands she had had, answered, so many that she could not count them.'
And Jesus said, ' When they died, did they leave you behind ? ' 'On the con
trary,' said she, ' I murdered and got rid of them.' ' Then,' said Jesus, 'It is .
strange that the rest had so little wisdom, that when they saw how you treated
the others they still burned with such love for you, and did not take warning
from their predecessors.' " See others in Hofmann, ubi supr., p. 328. An inter
esting monograph might be written on the picture of Jesus as presented in the
Mohammedan writings. In the Koran itself His name is frequently mentioned
with those of various prophets ; but the special references are not numerous.

INDEX.

A.

Abgarus V., King of Edessa, tradition
regarding, 506, 507.
Ablutions before meals, not observed by
our Lord's disciples, 337 et seq.; of
the leading Jews, 337, 338.
Accuracy, historical, of the Evangelists,
305.
Aceldama (" Field of Blood"), 610.
Adam, skull of, at the foot of the cross,
637.
Adulteress, decision in the case of an, 406
et seq., 415.
JEnon.near Salim, ^70.
Age of Christ at His baptism by John,
110, n.
Agony in the garden, 575 et seq.
Allegories and Parables, 434, n.
Alms-giving, 538, 539.
Ambition of the disciples rebuked, 389.
Andrew, calling of, 130 et seq.
Andrew, the name, 135, n.
" Angel to the Shepherds," chapel of
the, 31.
Angelology and Demonology, Jewish,
685, 686.
Anna, the prophetess, 47.
Annas (Hanan) 483, 589, 590; Christ's
trial before, 591—595 ; his end, 631.
Antipas, son of Herod the Great, 66 ;
character and career of, 295 et seq.;
431, n. ; gives a banquet, at which
Salome dances, 299; wishes- to see
Christ, 302 ; spoken of as " that fox "
by Christ, 431 ; Christ sent by Pilate
to, 619 ; his end, 630.
Antipater, father of Herod the Great,
65, n.
Antonia, Tower of, 427.
Apocrypha, Christ familiar with the,
355, n.
Apocryphal Gospels — their character,
71,71.
Apostles, the calling of the first, 127 —
140 ; enumerated and characterized,
203 et seq. ; sent out two and two, 280
et seq. ; return from their mission, 302 ;
questioned by Christ as to their belief
in Him, 371 et seq.; their misunder
standing of Christ's mission, 374 et seq.;
dispute as to which is to be the great
est, 389 et seq. ; Christ appears after
His resurrection to ten of the, 666.
Appearance of our Lord, traditional ac
count of the, 684.

Archelaus, son of Herod the Great, 66.
Arimathsea, 657, n.
Ascension, the, 670, 671.
Asceticism, 104, 105.
Ass, the — how esteemed in the East,
499, 500, n.
Authority, Christ's, 514.
B.
Banus, a Jewish hermit, 115, n.
Baptism, by John, of Christ, 110 et seq. ;
by Christ's disciples, 169.
Baptism of John, from Heaven or of
men ? 514, 515.
Bar-Abbas, 623, 624.
Bar-jona, see Peter.
Barley — how esteemed in Palestine,
247, n.
Bartimasus, blind, and his companion
healed, 489.
Baskets in use in Palestine, 308, 309, n.
BeelzebuZ, not Beelzebuo, 346 ; see also
Devil.
Ben- Adam, see Son of Man.
" Beside himself," our Lord considered,
225, 226.
" Bethania," not " Bethabara," the true
reading of John i. 28, 127, n.
Bethany, Christ at the house of Lazarus
at, 460 et seq.; of the present day, 480,
n, 499, n; the last evening at, 546, 547.
Bethesda, Pool of (Birket Israel), 286,
287 ; Christ's miracle there, 287 et seq.
Bethlehem, 37, 66.
Bethphage, 499.
Bethsaida, or "Fish-house" (Bethsaida
Julias), 306, 307, n., 309, n., 369.
Bethsaida ( Western), 219, n., 309, n.
Birth of Christ, date of the, see Date.
Blind man, at Bethsaida, healed, 369 ;
blind from his birth, healed, 419 et seq.
Bloody flux healed, 274 et seq.
Blushing, 411, n.
Boat, Christ preaches from a, 197.
Body of Christ after the Resurrection,
666, 670, n.
Boyhood of Christ, 67—76.
Brahe, Tycho, star seen by, 52.
Bread of Life, Jesus the, 316 et seq.
Brethren of Jesus, 97—99, 144, n., 206, n.;
they try to assert a claim on Christ's
actions, 255 ; desire to speak with
Jesus, 349, 350.
Buddhist stories and the Gospel, 178, n.
Burial, Eastern, 480, 657 ; of Christ, 659.

712

INDEX.

Csesar, rights of, 523 et seq.
Csesarea Philippi, 369, 370.
Caiaphas, the civil High Priest, 483, 595 ;
meeting in the palace of, 548 et seq. ;
Christ's trial before, 595 — 599 ; the
end of, 630.
Calvary (Golgotha), 637.
Cana, the real, 141, n.
Cana of Galilee, marriage in, 141 et seq.
Capernaum, the earliest centre of Christ's
ministry, 150 ; described, 151 et seq. ;
site of, 155, 156 ; Christ makes it His
home after leaving Cana, 191; Christ's
first Sabbath there, 192 et seq. ; dis
course at, 314—320.
Caravansery, or Khan, Eastern, 33 et seq.
Carpenter, Christ as a, 86.
Cave, a, the scene of the Nativity, 34 —
38, n.
Celibacy, the question of, 470 et seq.
Census in time of Augustus, 35 et seq.
Centurion's servant, healing of the, 223
Children blessed, 472, 473.
Children of the devil, 417.
Chorazin, 367.
" Christ," meaning of the name, 45, see
Jesus.
Christianity, its originality, 212, 213, n.;
its character, 213 et seq.
Chronology, see Order of Events.
Circumcision of Christ, 48, 44.
Cities, Oriental, 546.
Claudia Procula, wife of Pilate, 621.
Clopas, 665.
Cocks — how esteemed by the Jews,
602, ft.
Commandment, the greatest, 528 — 531.
Commandment, the new, 566.
Correggio, " La Notte " of, 39, n.
Counting the cost, 438,439.
Council, see Sanhedrin.
Criticism of sacred writings, 58, 59, ».
Cross, taking up the, 378, n.
Crosses, various kinds of, 634, n.
Crown of thorns, the, 625.
Crucifixion of Christ, 633—655.
Crucifixion as a punishment, 633, 634,
638 etseq., 654, 657.
Cyrenius (P. Sulp. Quirinus), 35, n.
D.
Dalmanutha, 364, n.
Dancers and dancing-women, 399.
Date of Christ's birth, the, 673—675.
David, descent of Christ from, 37, n.
Dead to bury their dead, 256,
Deaf man with an impediment in his
speech cured, 361.
Death, the fear of, 578, 579.
Decapitation — how regarded by the
Jews, 301, n.

Decapolis, the regions of, Christ's visit
to, 361—363.
Deception, our Lord accused of, 398, n.
Dedication, Feast of the, 435, 462 ; Christ
at the, 463 et seq.
Delitzsch, Dr. F. — his tract Sehet welch
ein Mensch, 343, n.
Demoniac, a, cured at Capernaum, 193 —
194 ; blind and dumb, cured, 345 ; boy,
386 et seq.
Demoniacal possession, 193, n., 263 et seq.
Demonology, Jewish, 685, 686.
Devil, our Lord accused of being in
league with the, 346, 347.
Dio-drachmum, the, a Greek coin, 393, n.
Disciples, Christ appears to more than
five hundred, 669; see also Seventy
disciples, the.
" Discrepancies " in the narrative of
Christ's trial, &c, 588 et seq.
Divorce, the question of, 467 et seq.
Doves — their sale and price, 160, n.
Doves, Valley of, 151.
Dress of Christ, 345. 246.
Dropsy, man afflicted with the, healed,
446 et seq. E.
Eagle, the, a Roman symbol, 544, n.; see
also Vulture.
Easter, Jerusalem at, 158 ; 438, n.
Education, Jewish, 89.
Education of Christ, 89 et seq.
Egypt, Flight into, 43, 57 et seq.
Elias at Christ's transfiguration, 382;
Jewish expectation of, 384, 385.
Emmaus, Christ appears to two disci
ples on their way to, 664 — 666 ; its
site, 665. '-
En-gannim (the " Fountain of Gardens "),
436, 437.
Enemies, hating one's, 211, n.
Enthusiasm and madness, 235, 226.
Ephraim, Christ retires to the village
of, 484.
Evangelists, evidence of the, 43.
Evil Council, Hill of, 498.
Excommunication of Christ, probable,
433 ; legendary, 485, n.
Exorcism of demons, 194, n., 345.
F.
Faith, a perfect, 388.
Fasting of Christ, 119 ; sanctioned by
Christ, 119 ; His answer to John's dis
ciples regarding, 371—373, 333.
Feast, unnamed, in John v. 1, 686 — 689.
Feet, washing the disciples', 557 — 559.
Fig-tree cursed, 510—513, 530, n.
Fig-tree, custom of pious Jews to pray
under a, 138.
Fish, a, as a Christian symbol, 199, n.
" Fishers of men," 199.
Fishes, miraculous draught of, 198, 667.

INDEX.

713

Five thousand, feeding of the, 305—309.
Fool, parable of the Rich, 355.
Forgiveness of sins by Christ, 239, 269,
323.
Forgiveness, the lesson of, 391.
Fringes to Jewish garments, 275.
G.
Gadara ( Um Keis), 360, n.
Gadarene demoniac, the, 261 et seq.
Gadarenes — their treatment of Christ,
266.
Galilsean ministry of Christ, commence
ment of, 189 et seq
Galilseans massacred, 437, 613.
Galilee described, 67 ; the estimation in
which it was held, 70, n., 76 ; modern
Jews and, 404, 405.
Galilee, our Lord's life in, 242 — 251 ;
His farewell to, 435.
Galilee, Sea of, see Gennesareth, Lake of.
Garments of Jesus, division of the, 643.
Gehenna, 354.
Genealogy of Christ, 36, 37.
Gennesareth, Lake of, 150 ; sea-fight on
the, 433, 434 ; our Lord appears after
His resurrection at the, 667 — 669.
Gennesareth, Land of, 150 et seq.
Gentiles, the, 402.
Gentiles, Court of the, see Temple.
Gergesenes, their treatment of Christ,
266.
Gerizim, Mount, 176.
Gethsemane, Garden of, 574 et seq.
Glutton, a, and a wine-drinker, our Lord
charged with being, 323.
Golgotha (Calvary), 637.
Governor of the Feast, the, 146.
Greek learning, 93, 681, 682.
Greeks, some desire an interview with
Jesus, 506, 507.

H.
Hanan, see Annas.
Hattin, Horns of, the probable scene of
the Sermon on the Mount,- 203.
Health of Christ's life, 249.
" Herald Angel," Chapel of the, 33.
Herod Antipas, see Antipas.
Herod Archelaus, see Archelaus.
Herod the Great, 48, 49. 61 et seq. ; his
descendants, 296, n.
Herodians, 368, n., 521 et seq.
Herodias carried off by Herod Antipas,
296 ; hates John the Baptist, 298 ; ac
complishes his murder, 301; her future
career, 303, 304.
High Priest's office, the, 599, n.
Hillel, one 6f the founders of the Mas6-
rah, 83, 92, n. ; and Jesus, 676—681.
Hissop, 650.
Hospitality, Oriental, 236, 380.
Houses, Oriental, 368,269.

Hunt, Mr. Holman — his "Shadow of
Death," 73, n.
Husbandmen in the vineyard, the rebel
lious, 516. I.
Infancy of Christ, events of the, 43.
Innocents, Massacre of the, 59 et seq.
Inscription on the cross, 641 — 643.
Inspiration, views on, 488, n.
J.
Jacob's Well described, 175, n., 178.
Jairus' daughter raised, 274 et seq.
James, St., the Apocryphal Gospel of,
on Christ's Nativity, 40.
James, the son of Zebedee, an apostle,
206.
Jealousy, water of, 408, 409.
Jericho, 488—490.
Jericho, the rose of, 488, n.
Jerome, St., 34.
Jerusalem, Jewish pilgrims entering,
430, n. ; Christ weeps over, 501 ; de
struction of, 503, 503, 535—537, 544,
636, n. ; lamentation over, 534.
" Jesus," the name, 45.
Jesus, birth of, 31 — 43 ; descent from
David, 37, n. ; circumcision, 43, 44 ;
presentation in the Temple, 43 — 47 ;
carried into Egypt, 57 et seq. ; boyhood
of, 67 et seq. ; among the doctors, 83 ;
His education, 89 et seq. ; His trade,
87, 88 ; His baptism, 110 et seq.; temp
tation of, 113—136; His first miracle,
141 — 149 ; His first cleansing of the
Temple, 157 et seq. ; Sermon on the
Mount, 208 — 218; sends out the
Twelve on a missionary journey, 379
— 384 ; feeds the five thousand, 305
etseq. /His transfiguration, 380 — 385;
at the Feast of Tabernacles, 396 — 405;
sends out the Seventy, 431, 432 ; at
the Feast of Dedication, 463 et seq. ;'
raises Lazarus, 477 — 485 ; second
cleansing of the Temple, 504 — 506 ;
His last supper, 554 — 564 ; examination
and trial of, 588 et seq. ; crucifixion of,
633 — 655 ; His resurrection, 660 et seq. ;
last appearances of, 663 et seq. ; ascen
sion of, 670, 671 ; traditional sayings
of, 709, 710.
Jewish race, Avarice of the, 451, n.
Jewish sects, 365, n.
Jews, see Sanhedrin, Scribes, Pharisees,
Sadducees, &c.
" Jews, the," use of the term, 161, n.
Jews of Palestine, present, 289, n.
Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod's stew
ard, 189.
John the Baptist and his mission, 103 —
112 ; he points out Jesus as the Mes
siah, 129 ; his baptism of repentance,
169, 170 ; his testimony, 171 ; sends a
message to Christ, 339 et seq. ; in pris-

714

INDEX.

on, 229 et seq. ; Christ eulogizes, 333,
234; summoned before Herod, 297;
murdered, 301 ; buried, 302.
John's disciples question Christ as to
fasting, 270 et seq.
John, the son of Zebedee, calling of, 130
et seq. ; his intimate association with
Christ, 206 ; his character, 207 et seq. ;
at Christ's grave, 661.
John's Gospel — evidence of its genuine
ness, 131, n. ; the style of, 160, n.
John v. 3, 4, spurious character of, 286,
n. U
Joseph of Arimathsea, §55 et seq.
Joseph, husband of the Virgin, tradition
regarding a former marriage of, 96.
Josephus — his so-called allusion to
Christ, 63.
Joy of Christ's life, 126.
Judas, a common name among the Jews,
235, ».
Judas Iscariot, an apostle, 205 ; apoery-
phal tradition regarding, 344, n. ; his
treachery foretold by Christ, 330 ; his
avarice, 495 ; bargains to betray Christ,
496, 497, 549—553 ; his end, 609, 610.
Judas the Asmonasan, 463, 464.
Judgment, the Day of, 545, 546.
Justin Martyr, 34. K.
Kepler on the " Star in the East," 53, 54'
Keys, the power of the, 373—374.
Khan, Eastern, see Caravansery.
Kidron, Brook of, 573.
Kingdom of God, coming of the, 458 et
seq.
King's Banquet, parable of the, 449.
Kiss, Christ betrayed with a, 583, n., 583.
L.
Labor ennobled by Christ, 86 et seq. ; of
• His life, 248, 349.
Laborers in the Vineyard, parable of
the, 476.
Languages spoken and known by Christ,
93, 94, 532, n.
Last Supper, the, 554 et seq. ; was it an
actual Passover, 691—697.
Last things, discourse of the, 541 et seq.
Law, written and traditional, 339, 340 ;
oral, and the Talmud, 682, 683.
Lawyers rebuked by Christ, 352, 353.
Lazarus, conjectures regarding, 460;
raising of, 477 — 485.
Legion, a Roman, 585, n.
Length of Christ's ministry, see Ministry.
Lepers and leprosy, 134, n., 440 ; a leper
cleansed, 219, 220 ; sacerdotal cleans
ing, 231 ; ten healed, 439 et seq.
Life, eternal, how to inherit, 473 et seq.
Light of the World, 415.
Lilies, the, alluded to in the Sermon on
the Mount, 313, n.

Locusts, as articles of food, 107, n.
Luther on the child-life of Christ, 74;
on the purification of the Temple,
159, ». M.
Madness and enthusiam, 335, 236.
Magdala (El Medjel) 341, 364; see also
Mary Magdalene.
Magi, the visit of the, 43, 43, 48—56, 57.
Malchus has his ear cut off, 585.
Manaen, the foster-brother of Herod,
189.
Manners, domestic, in the East, 335, 336.
" Manger " — what the word represents,
41.
Maniacs, treatment of, 361, 262.
Marriage and Celibacy, 469 et seq.
Martha, sister of Lazarus, conjectures
regarding, 460 ; her character, 461 et
seq. ; 478, n.
Mary Magdalene identified with the
woman in the house of Simon the
Pharisee, 340, 341 ; at Christ's tomb,
659 ; Christ appears to, 660, 663 et seq.
Marys in Gospel history, 344, n.
Mary, sister of Lazarus, 461 et seq., 478,
479 ; anoints Christ's head and feet,
494 et seq.
Mary, the Virgin, 345, n. ; at the Cruci
fixion, 646, 647.
Matthew, the Evangelist, called, 199 et
seq.; assumed to be identical with Levi,
201, ?i.; gives a feast, 268—270.
Megiddo (Ladjun), 363, n.
" Messiah," meaning of the name, 45 ;
Jewish notion of the, 346, n., 315.
Ministry of Christ, its length, 686 et seq.
Miracles, how to be viewed, 147 — 149 ;
number related by the Evangelists,
219, n.
Miracles ; see separate entries : Blind Man ;
Bloody Flux ; Centurion's Servant ;
Deaf Man ; Demoniac, &c, &c.
Missionary labors, 281, ft., 283.
Mobs — their fury calmed, 187.
Monday of Passion Week, 510 — 519.
Money, lost piece of, parable of the, 457.
Moses, at Christ's transfiguration, 382.
Mount, Sermon on the, 202.
Mountain, Christ retires for prayer to a,
202, 381, 310.
Mountain of Beatitudes, 669.
Mourning, Hebrew, 277.
Myrrh-mingled wine at the crucifixion,
638. N.
Nain described, 227; raising of the wid
ow's son at, 228.
Nathanael, the apostle, calling of, 135 et
seq.
Nativity, Church and Convent of the, 34.
Nativity of Christ, 31 et seq.
" Nazarene," a term of contempt, 75.

INDEX.

715

Nazarenes reject Christ, 180—188.
Nazareth described, 68, 69 ; Christ's home-
life there, 86—102.
Nicodemus. the conversation with, 166 —
169 ; speaks in defence of Christ, 404 ;
at Christ's burial, 658.
Night, watches of the, 310, n.
Nobleman's son, healing of the, 181.
0.
Offence, Hill of, 498, n.
Olives, Mount of, 407.
Opposition to Christ's teaching, 322 — 341,
342—350.
Order of events in Christ's ministry, 180,
181, 190, 243, n., 252, 279 et seq.; 425
et seq.

Pagan writers on Christ's life, 87, n.
Palestine, the physical geography of, 67,
68.
Palm Sunday, 498—509.
Palms, 503, n.
Parables, Christ's teaching in, 253 et seq.;
see separate entries ; Fool, Parable of
the Rich ; Money, Lost Piece of ; Sheep,
Lost ; Prodigal Son ; Pharisee and Pub
lican ; Rich Man and Lazarus ; Samar
itan, parable of the Good, &c.
Paralytic, the, healed, 268—270.
Paschal Lamb, 554, 654, n.
Passover, celebration of the, 80 ; the first
of Christ's ministry, 157 et seq.; of the
Samaritans at the present day, 563.
Passovers, the, of Christ's ministry, 157, n.
Paul, Christ is seen by, 670.
Paulus on the miracle of the tribute-
money, 395.
Persea, 437 ; Christ's last stay in, 466 et seq.
Personal appearance of our Lord, 133 —
135,346,684.
Peter the apostle, calling of, 132 ; his inti
mate association with our Lord, 206 ;
his character, 307 et seq.; his house at
Capernaum, 268 ; at Christ's walking on
the sea, 311 et seq. ; his profession of
belief, 320, 371 et seq.; his position
amongst the apostles, 372 et seq. ; re
bukes Christ, 376—378 ; denies Christ
with oaths, 600—604 ; at Christ's grave,
661 ; Christ appears to, 664 ; Christ's
last charge to, 668, 669.
Pharisee and the Publican, parable of the,
456.
Pharisee, Christ at the house of a, 351
et seq.; 446.
Pharisees, murmuring of the, 270, 271,
323 et seq.; demand a sign, 348, 349; re
buked by Christ, 352 et seq.; modern
representatives of the, 353, n.; disciples
warned against the, 368; wish Christ to
declare plainly whether He be the Mes
siah, 463 et seq. ; conspire with the

Herodians, 531 ; seven classes of, 535 ;
hypocrisy of the, 689—691 ; and Sad
ducees, 706—709.
Philip the apostle, calling of, 135.
Philo, contemporary of Christ, 91, n.
Phylacteries, 345.
Physical cause of the death of Christ,
665, n.
Pilate, career of, 611 — 613 ; Jesus before,
614, et seq.; his end, 630.
Plough, putting one's hand to the, 357.
Pounds, parable of the, 492.
Poverty sanctified by Christ, 86 et seq.; of
His life, 246, 347.
Praitorium, Herod's, 613.
Prayer, the Lord's, taught to His disci-
pies, 343, 343.
Presentation in the Temple, the, 43 — 47.
Prodigal Son, parable of the, 325 et seq. ,
457,
Prophecies regarding the coming of
Christ, 51.
Prophecy, ancient, Gospel references to,
60, n.
Prophetic warnings, Christ's, 544 et seq.
Publicans, the, despised and hated, 300,
301 ; Christ's keeping company with, a
source of offence, 334 et seq.
Purification, rite of, 43, 46.
Purim, Feast of, 284. Q.
Quarantania, by tradition the scene of
Christ's temptation^ 113, 114.
Quotations from the Gospels in this
Work, 33, 7i.; Old Testament, 698, 699.
R.
Rabbinical schools and their teaching,
528 et seq.
Rabbis consulted in cases of doubt and
difficulty, 409 ; borrowers from Christ
ianity, 536, 7i.
Raphael's picture of the " Transfigura
tion," 386.
Receipt of Custom, a, at or near Caper
naum, 199, 201, 7i.
" Rejoicing in spirit" of Christ, 434, 435.
Resurrection, the, 660 et seq.
Revenging of the Saviour, a mediarval
book, 629, 7i., 631, n.
Rich Man and Lazarus, parable of the,
452.
Riches and the Kingdom of Heaven, 475,
476.
Roman tribute and taxes, 199, 200.
S.
Sabbath, Christ held to have violated
the, 288 et seq., 328—337, 421, 442 et
seq. ; Jewish observance of the, 389 et
seq., 339, 330, 335, 336, 443, n., 659, n.

716

INDEX.

Sabbath preceding the Passover, 493, n.
" Sacramental " and " tran substantia
tion " controversies, 564, n.
Sadducees, the disciples warned against
the, 368 ; views on the resurrection
held by the, 525, 527, n.; and Phari
sees, 706—709.
Salome, daughter of Herodias, dances
before Herod, 299 ; her traditional end,
301, 71., 304.
Salome, the mother of James and John
— her request for her sons, 487, 488.
Samaria, the woman of, 173 — 179.
Samaritan, Good, parable of the, 454,
455.
Samaritans hated by the Jews, 174 ;
characterized, 175, n.; their hopes of
the Messiah, 177, n.
Sanhedrin, 47 ; watches the movements
of Jesus, 401 ; its meeting after the
raising of Lazarus, 483 ; sends a dep
utation to Christ, 513 et seq. ; constitu
tion of the, 595, 596, 598, n., 600 ;
Christ's trial before the, 605, 608; ori
gin, constitution, &c, of the, 704 — 706.
" Satan," the word, 330, n., 377, 378.
Scourging of Christ, 634, 635, 633, n.
Scribe, a, offers to follow Christ, 356.
Scribes described, 213 n.; their teaching,
214.
Sea, Christ's walking on the, 311, et seq.
Seizure of Christ, 580 et seq.
Self-sacrifice, the law of, 378.
Sermon on the Mount, 209—218.
Seventy Disciples„the, 427 ; sent out, 431,
432 ; return of the, 455, 456.
Shechem, 172, n.
Sheep, Lost, Parable of the, 457.
Shemaia (Sameas), 607, 608, n.
Shepherds, announcement to the, 32, 33 ;
they go to the inn, 39, 40.
Sidon, see Tyre and Sidon.
Siloam, Pool of, 420.
Siloam, tower in, 428, 613, n.
Sign from heaven, a, demanded, 365 et
seq.
Simeon, 46, 47.
Simon, a common name among the Jews,
335, n.
Simon of Cyrene, 635.
Simon's wife's mother healed, 194.
Simon the leper, 460, 482, 493, 494.
Simon the Pharisee, the feast at the
house of, 335—341.
Simplicity of Christ's life, 347, 348.
Sinners and Publicans, Christ's keeping
company with, a source of offence, 334
et seq.
Society, state of, at the time of Christ's
coming, 103 et seq.
Solomon's Porch, 463.
Son of Man, title of, 140, n.
Sons of Thunder, the, 437.
Sons, parable of the Two, 515, 516.
Sorrow of Christ's life, 249 et seq.

Sound of words, importance attached by
the Hebrews to the, 75, 132.
Sower, parable of the, 353, 354.
Steward, Unjust, parable of the, 450.
Stoning, attempted, of Christ, 418, 465.
Stone which the builders rejected", the
517.
Storms on the Sea of Galilee, 257, n.
Storm stilled by Christ, 357 et seq.
Superstition and incredulity, 619.
Supper, Last, see Last Supper.
Swine abhorred by the Jews, 336, n.
Swine, the herd of, at the curing of the
Gadarene demoniac, 263 et seq.
Sychar, near Jacob's Well, 172.
Sycomore tree, 490, n.
Synagogues, Jewish, and their services,
described, 182, 183 ; one built by the
centurion at Capernaum, 224.
" Synoptical Gospels," the term ex
plained, 481, ti.
Syrophoenician woman, the, and her de
moniac daughter, 358 et seq.
T.
Tabernacles, Feast of, Christ at the, 396
et seq. ; described, 396, 397, 403, 403,
408, 415, 425, n.
Tabor, Mount, 669.
Talents, parable of the, 546.
Talmud, the, 314, n.; on the life of Christ,
596 ; on His death, 606 ; Christ and the
Christians in the, 675, 676 ; the Tal
mud and the oral law, 682 — 684 ; notes
on the, 699—704.
Taxes, capitation, their lawfulness, 522
et seq.
Teaching of Jesus not borrowed, 90 et
seq. ; its character, 154, 155.
Temple, Jesus in the, 77 — 85 ; frequented
by merchants and money-changers,
158 ; purification by Christ, 157 et seq. ;
described, 162, n./ second cleansing by
Christ, 505, 506 ; Christ foretells the
destruction of the, 540 ; vail of the,
rent, 651.
" Temple of His body," Christ speaks of
the, 161 et seq.
Temptation of Christ in the wilderness,
113—136.
Temptations of our Lord, other, 118, 119,
136.
Testament, Greek, how referred to in
this Work, 33 n.
Thief, the repentant, on the cross, 645.
646.
Thieves executed with Christ, two, 633.
644.
Thirst at crucifixion, 650.
Thirty pieces of silver, the, 495, n., 497.
Thomas, the apostle, his name, 135, ».;
his unbelief cured, 666, 667.
Tiberias, town of, 153, 154.
Tiberius, Roman Emperor, 125.

INDEX.

717

Time, how reckoned, 131, 173, n., 190, ??..,
628, n.
Tombs, the dwellings of demons, in the
Jewish belief, 261, ».; Jewish, 659.
" Tower of the Flock," 31, n.
Trade, a, learned by every Jewish boy,
87,7i.
Traditional sayings of Christ, 709, 710.
Transfiguration, the, 380 — 885.
" Transubstantiation " and " sacramen
tal " controversies, 292, n.
Travelling in the East, 37.
Tribute-money, the miracle of the, 392 —
395.
Tribute to Caasar, see Taxes, Capitation.
Triumphal entry into Jerusalem, 499 et
seq.
Trumpet-sounding of the alms-giving
Pharisee, 211, tj.
Twelfth year, the, of » Jewish boy, 77,
78.
Tyre and Sidon, Christ visits, 358 et seq.

Via Dolorosa, 635.
Vine and Branches, similitude of the,
571
Virgins, parable of the Ten, 546.
Vulture, the, classed by the ancients
with the eagle, 459, n.

W.
Washing the hands and feet in the East,
145.
Washing the hands by Pilate, 630.
Water in the East, 174.
Water of Life, 316.
Weddings, Oriental, 141.
Wedding-feast, parable of the, 517, 518.
Widow, the sevenfold, 525 et seq.
Widow, the poor, and her alms, 538, 539.
Woe denounced against Chorazin, Beth
saida, &c, 867, 433 ; against the Scribes
and Pharisees, 532 et seq.
" Woman," the address, 144.
Woman with an alabaster box of spike
nard at Simon the Pharisee's house,
236 et seq. ; see also Mary Magdalene.
Woman, infirm, healed, 443.
Women at the Feast of the Passover,
78 ; how esteemed by the Rabbis, 178,
7!., 276, n.
Women, cold-blooded, 301, n.
Writing, the only reference to Christ's,
413.

Zacchaeus, 490 et seq.
Zacharias, see Zechariah.
Zebedee, the father of James and John,
206.
Zechariah, the prophet, 610 n.
Zechariah (the son of Jehoiada), 534 n.

PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE

(NEW TESTAMENT)

QUOTED OR REFERRED TO.

St.

Matthew.

St. Matthew.

St. Matthew.

St. Matthew.

i. 16,

98

v. 32,

680

ix. 9,

199, 201

xi. 12, 452

18,

98

39,

700

11,

270, 324

13, 452

19,

35,37

42,

700 .

13,

271, 449

16, 95

20,

37

43,

211

14-17,

271

16, 17, 323

21,

45

46,

449

15, 119

272,

16-19, 234

25,

98

47,

449

273

375, 388

18, 108, 230

ii. 1,

37,43

vi. 1-34,

212

16,

273

19, 323, 324

9,

48

1,

112

18,

166

20-24, 367

11,

42,56

3,

211

18-26,

274

20-27, 367

12,

310

7,

700

19,

274

23, 156

14,

66

9-15,

426

27,

278

28, 93

16,

59

9,

343

27-31,

278

29, 435

18,

657

16-18,

119, 388

28,

278

xii. i et sea., 330

22,

66, 310

25,

282

30,

222

1, 388

23,

75

27,

88, 212

32-35,

426

3, a33

iii. 4,

326

28,

212

35,

242

6, 333

5,

108

31,

701

35-38,

279

7, 271

7,

107, 108

vii. 1-23,

212

36, 250

276, 280

9, 334

10,

104

7-12,

426

38,

222

10, 334, 446

11,

109

11,

G80

x. 1,

240

11, 335

14,

111

12,

679

1-43,

280

13, 15, 336

1"',

44, 112

13,

518

2-4,

204

15-20, 222

17,

112

14,

518

3,

201, 204

16, 221

iv. 3,

120

26,

212

4,

205, 206

19, 374, 481

i,

120

27,

212

5-42,

432

22 etseq., 342

5,

122

28,

213

8,

283

23, 345, 359

6,

123

29,

213

9,

280

24, 676

7,

123

viii. 1-4,

219

10,

283

25-37, 347

10,

122

i

219

11,

283

27, 194

12,

127, 172, 189

2|

219, 220

16,

432

30, 390

13,

181, 189

3,

220

18-23,

283

33, 165

15,

67, 181, 191

5-13,

223

19,

282

38, 365

16,

191

14,

156, 194

23,

283

38-42, 662

18-22, 197

15,

194

25,

283, 346

39, 659

23,

242

17,

196, 249

28,

281

40, 349, 694

24,

195

19-22,

256, 426

29,

282, 680

43, 346

25,

157, 191

19,

185, 201

37,

449

46, 98, 245, 349

v. 1,

184, 191

24,

257, 258

38,

283, 375

46-50, 255

1-48, 212

25,

258

xi. 1,

284

47, 244

2,

209

26,

193, 258

2,

229

47-50, 350

3,

653

27,

259

2-19,

228

48, 350

9,

700

28,

260, 262

3,

229,232

48-50, 144

10,

700

28-34,

260

5,

189

xiii. 1, 252

15,

292

34,

266

6,

232

1-23, 254

18,

92

ix. 1, 155

191, 268

7-9,

233

2, 252

21,

209

2,

269

9, 10,

233

20, 253

22,

210, 596, 700

2-8,

269

io!

385

24*30, 254

28,

700

6,

322

11,

229

31, 453

N. T. PASSAGES QUOTED OR REFERRED TO.

719

St. Matthew.

St. Matthew.

St. Matthew.

St. Mark.

xiii. 34, 252

xix. 3-9,

681

xxv. 8, 545

i. 16-20, 197

34-36, 254

3-12,

467

10, 520

23, 193

52, 374

9,

470, 680

34, 487

25, 221

53-58, 182

10-12,

471

xxvi. 2, 375, 692

29-31, 194

54-58, 182

13,

457, 472

6, 482

35, 196

56, 142, 185

16,

426, 473

6-13. 493

36, 196

57, 144, 185

17,

474

7, 482

38, 196

58, 186, 220

18,

387

8, 495

39, 242

xiv. 1, 303

22,

475

* 15, 497, 551

40, 220

2, 303

26,

130

17, 692

40-45, 219

6, 299

30,

518

18, 532,692,697

41, 250

8, 300

xx. 13,

582

19, 692

43, 222

13, ¦ 306

16,

518

24, 383

44, 221

13-33,305 et seq.

17-19,

486

26, 561

45, 222

14, 250

17-28,

427

31, 610

ii. 1-12, 268

15, 307

18,

375

31-35, 574

4, 269

23, 307

19,

375

32, 574

5, 269

25, 311

20,

223

36, 574

7, 269

27, 313 .

20-28,

487

37, 573, 576

9, 269

27-29, 311

23,

487

39, 576

10, 322

30, 311

26,27,

473

49, 582

13. 252, 270

34-36, 314

28,

710

50, 582

14, 199, 204

xv. 1. 268, 331

30-34,

488

56, 586

15, 270

1-20, 337

34,

250

57, 705

18-22, 271

2, 213

xxi. 1-11

498

58, 589

19, 271

17, 376

2,

500

59, 596

23, 332, 388, 446

21-28, 145,358

5,

610

59-68, 595

23-28, 330

24, 177

7,

500

61, 163

24, 332

26, 177

8,

500

62, 691

27, 28, 334

27, 360

10,

504

63, 662

iii. 1. 334

29-39, 362

12, 157,158,505

64, 140. 599, 662

1-6, 330

32, 250

13,

157

67, 604, 608

2, 268

39, 364

15,

593

69, 589, 601

4, 335

xvi. 1, 525

17,

509

70, 602

5, 250, 335

1-4, 366

19,

510

71, 602

6, 521

2, 3, 357

20,

138

73, 94, 603

7, .157

3, 475

21,

388

xxvii. 1, 589,

8, 157, 359

4, 366, 375

23-27,

230, 514

596,705 .

9-12, 197

6, 179

28-32,

516

2, 615

11 etseq., 342

7, 376

33h16,

516

4, 609

12, 221

13, 369

42,

517

9, 610

16-19, 204

13-27, 662

xxii. 9,

517

16, 45

18, 204, 205

13-28, 370 etseq.

10,

517

17, 622

22-30, 347

21, 247, 375

12,

582

19, 621

21, 185, 225, 245

22, 376

15-22,

521

20, 622

22. 157, 331, 346

23, 552

16,

185

21, 623

31-35, 255

24, 375

17,

522

24, 609

iv. 1. 252

xvii. 1-9, 662

19,

94

26, 624, 633

1-25, 254

1-13, 380

23-33,

525

33, 637, 638

3, 253

2, 382

25,

526

37, 634

16, 253

3, 382

32,

417

39, 388 .

26-34, 254

4, 384

3440,

528

44, 644

30, 453

6, 383

xxiii. 1-39, 532

46, 93, 94,

33, 254

9, 383

4,

374

648, 695

35, 255

10, 11, 385

5,

530

48, 650

36, 255

10-12, 247

7,

185

50, 651

37, 258

14, 386

11,

473, 488

52, 651

38, 249, 258

14-21, 386

14,

324

53, 651

39, 258

15, 387

17,

211

56, 99

v. 1, 260

21, 119

35,

534

xxviii. 1-7, 660

1-19, 260

22, 375, 388

37,

157, 191

4, 504

2, 261

24-27, 248

xxiv.,

541,542

9-15, 663, 664

4, 261

xviii. 1, 373

1,

539

16, 661

13, 263

1-35, 389

6,

543

17, 670

17, 266

1-xx. 16, 426

8,

544

19, 222

3, 170

14,

543

St. Mark.

22, 183

4' 488

17,

269

i. 4, 300

2243, 274

6, 572

21,

545

10, 112

23, 274

8, 383

22,

532

12, 113, 222

26, 275

17, 200, 372, 680
xix. 1, 191

24,29,

532 542

13, 114
14, 127,172,189

36, 276
38, 277

3, 468

XXV.,

541, 542

15, 170

39, 377

720

PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE

St. Mark.

St. Mark.

St. Mark.

St. Luke.

v. 40, 277

ix. 35,

473

xv. 1, 589, 596, 615

iv. 14,

127

41, 228, 277

38,

194, 388

11, 622

14-30,

182

42, 277

A. 1-31,

426

21, 695

15,

182, 242

43, 221

2-12,

467

22, 637

16,

182, 185

vi. 1-6, 182

11,

470

25, 628

18,

185

2, 90

13,

457

28, 568, 642

19,

184, 688

3, 86

17,

426

29, 643

20,

182, 185

5, 186, 220, 369

18,

474

31, 644

23,

154

6, 369

21,

130, 474

34, 126, 648

28,

187

7-13, 280

22,

475

36. 650

-30, 135,

187,

8, 280

24,

475

37, 651

188, 585

14, 300, 302, 303

26,

423

40, 99, 130

31,

181

16, 303

32,

486

43, 46, 693

33,

193, 240

18. 297

32-34,

456, 662

43-46, 157

35,

193, 221

19, 20, 298

32-45,

427

44, 658

38,

194

21, 298

35,

223

46, 658, 695

38, 39,

194

22, 299

3545,

487

xvi. 1-7, 660

39,

193

24, 3U0

42,

488

2, 660

40,

195

25, 300

46-52,

488

9-20, 661,

41,

243

29, 301

50,

489

662, 665

44, 157

191, 242

30-52, 305

xi. 1-11,

498

12, 655

v. 1,

191, 234

31, 306

2,

157, 500

15-18, 283

1-11,

197

33, 306

3,

157

18, 94

4,

198

38, 307

4,

499

8,

198

40, 308

8,

503

St. Luke.

10,

135, 199

41, 308

11,

504

i. 1, 481

12,

219

45, 307, 309

13,

510

1-3, 191

12-16,

219

48, 311

15-17,

157

3, 252, 426

13,

220

49, 311

18,

585

17, 385

14,

221

53-56, 314

20,

388

27, 98

17,

268, 331

56, 663

27,

513

30, 395

17-26,

268

vii. 1, 268, 331

27-33,

514

32, 37

19,

269

1-23, 337

xii. 1-12

516

36, 99

20,

269

3, 337

13-17,

521

39, 110

21,

273

4, 337

15,

522, 523

42-45, 348

24.

322

9, 339

18-27,

525

59, 43

27,

199

19, 341

28,

166

ii. 7, 33, 41, 98

29,

270

24, 378 .

28-34,

528

,8, 31

30,

324

24-30, 358

29,

93

9, 31

33-39,

271

26, 358

30,

93

13, 32

39,

273

31, 360

39,

183

14, 32

vi. 1,

331

32-37, 361

41,

415

15, 33

1-11,

330

34, 250

xiii.,

542

19, 42

3-5,

444

viii. 1-9, 362

1,

539

21, 43

5,

710

10, 364

3,

184

22, 44

6,

334

10-13, 366

3-37,

541

24, 46

9,

444

13, 366

7,

543

34, 46

10,

336

15, 179, 368

34,

601

39, 44, 66

11,

336,445

17, 368

xiv. 2,

696

40, 78

12, 202

,223,381

18, 368

3,

482, 494

43, 81

14-16,

204

24, 369

3-9,

493

44, 81

16,

206

27, 369

5.

222

48, 84

17,

209

27-ix. 1, 370

11,

551

49, 84, 144, 160

17-19,

208

31, 376

14.

157, 554

50, 376

20,

209

32, 375

14-16,

692

51, 69

31,

679

34, 378

15,

555

52, 70, 76

32-34,

449

ix. 1, 378

27-31,

574

iii. 1, 162

vii. 1-10,

223

2-13, 380

33,

576

1, 2, 103

3,

183

3, 382

44,

582

4, 107

5,

224

6, 383

45,

582

6, 107

6.

276

8, 384

51,

586

14. 108

7,

224

10, 376

52,

586

19, 297

11,

227

14, 386

53,

596

20, 189

11-50,

227

14-29, 386

55-65,

595

21, 223

13,

250

23, 369

58,

163

23, 673

18-35,

228

29, 119, 388

60,

598

29, 45

19,

229

30, 380, 388

65,

604

iv. 2, 115

29,

452

30-32, 662

66,

601

3, 120

30,

108

31, 389

67,.

601

5, 124

31-35,

234

32, 376

68,

602

8, 122, 126

34,

324

33-50, 389

70,

603

9, 122

36,

236

34, 556

72,

604

13, 119

36-50,

235

QUOTED OR REFERRED TO.

721

St. Luke.
vii. 37, 236, 411
39, 456
40, 238
41-44, 239
45, 239
45-48, 239
48-50, 322
49, 239
50, 239, 276
viii. 1, 252
2, 241
3, 189
4, 252
4-18, 254
19-21, 255
23, 257
24, 358
26, 260
26-39, 260
27, 261
32,33, 263
37, 266
39, 222
40, 268
41-56, 274
52, 277
56, 221
ix. 1-6, 280
7, 303
10, 307, 309
10-17, 305
11, 306
16, 308
18, 223
18-27, 370
23, 378
28, 223
28-36, 380
.29, 382
31, 383, 384
32, 381, 382
37, 227, 381
37-45, 386
38, 386
43-xi. 13, 438
43-45, 662
45, 376
46, 387
46-50, 389
49, 207
51, 430
51-xviii. 14, 457
51-xviii. 34, 342
51-56, 436
51-xviii. 15, 425
54, 55 438
56, 438
57-62, 426,256
• 59, 256
62, 257
x.-xviii. 31, 438
1, 426
1-12, 432
2-12, 283
3, 433, 553
12-15, 367
15, 156
16, 434
17-20, 455
18, 552
20, 456
21, 251, 434
91

St. Luke.
x. 25, 426, 460
25-28, 438
25-37, 455
27, 530
29, 423
29-37, 438
34, 33
38, 191, 425, 426
38-42, 426,
438,460
39, 461
xi. 1, 223, 426
1-4, 438
1-13, 426
5-8, 438
8, 450
9, 395
9-13, 438
14, 426
14-26, 426
14-xiii. 9, 438
14-32, 438
17-36, 347
27, 347
27. 28, 144
29-xii. 59, 426
37, 236, 351
51, 534
52, 372, 374
53, 353
xii. 1, 354, 426
13, 355
16-21, 355
32, 426
29, 355
35, 292
35-38, 438
37, 236
39-46, 438
47, ' 438
48, 438
49, 109
49-53, 458
50, 356
51-53, 438
54-56, 438
54-57, 357
57, 438
58, 438
59, 438
xiii. 1-5, 438
6-9, 438
7, 138, 429
7, 8, 689
10-xiv. 24. 438
10-17, 442
12, 442
14, 445, 446
14-17, 330
15, 41
16, 445, 552
18-21, 254
22, 425, 426
22-30, 453
23, 542
24, 542
31, 429
31-35, 426
32, 429
33, 430
xiv. 1, 426, 458
1-6, 330, 446

St. Luke.
xiv. 7, 448
7-11, 448
12-14, 448
15-24, 449
25-xvii. 10, 438
25-33, 438
26, 439, 449
28, 93
xv. 1, 452, 456
2, 325, 456 ¦
8, 337
20-24, 326
30. 328
xvi. 1-13, 450
9, 450
14, 451
15-18, 451
17, 452
22, 417, 452
23, 452
xvii.ll-xviii.30, 438
11, 425
11-19, 326,449
12, 426
17, 440
18, 174
20, 458
20-37, 458
35, 247
37, 544
xviii. 1-3, 456
9-14, 456
12, 272
15, 457
19, 474
23, 475
30, 426
31-34, 427, 486
34, 376
3543, 488
xix. 1-10, 489
4, 490
7, 324, 456, 491
11-27, 492
28, 493
28-40, 498
29, 482
30, 500
41, 250, 480, 501
43, 502
45, 157
47. 593
48, 506
xx. 1, 461, 513
1-8, 514
6, 514
9-19, 516
17, 130
19-26, 521
20, 522
27-39, 525
37, 527
xxi . , 542
1, 415, 538
5, 539
6, 539
7-38, 541
9, ' 543
20, 463
24, 543
37, 509

St. Luke.
xxi. 37, 38, 406
xxii. 5, 551
7, 692
11-13, 692.
15, 692
16, 697
17, 564
24, 373, 556 '
24-30, 559
25, 373, 559
26, 373, 473
31, 567
32, 567
37, 93, 568
39, 573
41, 576
43, 577
44, 577
47, 582
51, 582
52, 581, 586, 696
54, 589, 601
55, 601
56, 601
58, 602
59, 603
63, 664
63-65, 608
64, 604
66-71, 605
71, 608
xxiii. 2, 525
5, 152
6-12, 618
7, 619
8, 429
11, 620
25, 6124
26, 624, 695
31, 88, 513
33, 637
34, 223
35, 643
38, 642
39, 644
42, 646
43, 646
46, 223
54, 691, 694
56, 694, 695
xxiv. 1-10, 660
13, 665
13-35, 665
16, 670
17, 665
18, 203
25, 662
25-27, 247
34, 661, 664
37, 670
39, 666
46, 247
50, 671
51, 380
52, 663
St. John.
i. 1, 666
10, 11, 85
11, 180
12, 572
13, 167

722

PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE

St. John.

St. John.

St. John.

St. John.

i. 14,

384

v., 464

vii. 34, 566

xi. 37,

480, 483

15,

128

1, 157, 191,

35, 402

38,

480

18,

128

279, 284,

37, 508

43,

481, 508

19-34,

129

687, 689

38, 698

44,

128, 658

26,

243,458

2, 286

41, 76, 243

46,

480

28,

127

3, 4, 286

42, 49, 698

47-54,

483

29,

129

5, 400

46, 188

49,

483

30,

109

6. 287

49, 324

54, 128

425, 484

32,

112,243

7, 287

50, 166

55, 157

184, 687

35nt3,

129

8, 288

52, 76

xii. 1,

425

36,

130

10, 284, 289, 446

viii., 464

1-9,

493

38,

130

10 et seq., 330

1-11, 406

4,

205

39,

131

11, 289

6, 93

6, 248

495, 551

42,.

132

12, 290

9, 571

10,

482

43,

135

13, 288

15, 406

12-19,

498

45,

128, '136

14, 288

17, 406

13,

503

46,

136

15, 290

21, 402, 566

14,

500

47,

138

16, 291, 330

22, 345

17,

500

48,

138

17-47, 444

24, 406

20,

506

49,

138, 139

18, 330

25, 416

20-50,

506

51,

140

28, 481

28, 584

27, 479

576, 580

ii. 3,

143

29, 169

33, 108

28,

507

4,

144

35, 230, 292

37, 416

31,

124, 686

5,

145

vi. 1-21, 305

38, 416

34,

256

7,

145

4, 157, 184,

40, 416

35,

458

8,

236

687, 689

43, 416

36,

509

11,

146, 186

9, 247, 307

44, 417

44-50,

508

12, 98

,150,

10, 128

46, 406, 571

47,

438

157, 186

11, 308

47, 416

49,

508

13,184

687, 689

15, 309, 310

48, 417

xiii.,

128

14,

161

17, 309, 310

57, 110,416,688

1,

128

15,

159

17, 18, 310

58, 416, 418

1-17,

559

18, 161

348,365

19, 128

59, 188, 585

1-20,

557

18-22,

662

21, 311

ix., 128, 406 etseq.

2,

205, 556

19,

161, 165

22, 310

14, 446

8,

558

20,

179

26-40, 319

14 et seq. 330

• 21,

479

21,

163

23, 128, 154

21, 212

22,

696

23,

572

27, 449

36, 423

23,

561

23-25,

165

30, 365

37, 416

24,

•561

iii. 2,

131

33, 316

x. 14, 424

26,

206, 556

4,

167, 179

34, 316

16, 424

29,

695

10,

166, 168

35, 316, 403

17, 662

31,

662

14, 168

,273,

41, 316

18, 651, 662

xiv. 1,

572

375, 508

42, 90

20, 225

15-17,

400

17,

438

42-52, 179

22, 128, 284,

20,

400

20,

169

43-58, 319

462,687, 689

21,

400

23,

128

51, 375

22-42, 425

22,

205, 570

24,

189

52, 316, 317

23, 128

xvi. 2-30,

124

25,

128

58, 416

25, 425

8,

571

26,

171

61-65, 319

31, 465

26,

572

29,

272

61-64, 662

32, 465

30,

686

iv. 2,

172

63, 564

33, 465

xvii. 3,

49

3,

172

67-70, 320

34, 508

9,

572

6,

131, 628

70, 553

39, 188, 585

12,

495, 572

7,

145

71, 205

40, 425

15,

572

9,

174

vii. 1, 118, 242

40-42, 425

20,

572

11,

179

1-9, 397

41, 466

25,

3(4

14,

403

2, 687, 689

42, 466

xviii. 1,

573, 574

20,

177

3, 245, 397

xi. 1, 128

3,

581

22,

177

3, 4, 99

1-46, 425,477

4-9,

582

23,

128

3-5, 74

3, 477

5,

584

26,

177, 423

5, 98. 128, 185

4, 420

6,

135, 188

27,

178

6, 145

5, 477

8,

583

29,

309

11, • 398

9, 131, 628

H,

580

32,

179, 376

15, 90, 185

12, 376

12,

581

34,

179

19, 396

16, 173, 566

13, 128. 589. 591

35, 173, 179, 687

20, 400

18, 478

15,

589

36,

173

23, 330

21, 479

16,

129

43-45,

181

24, 401

32, 479

17,

601

47,

194

25, 606

33, 222, 250, 479

19-24,

128, 591

52,

131, 628

28, 508

34, 131

24,

589

54,

154. 191

30, 585

35, 250, 501

25.

602

QUOTED OR REFERRED TO.

723

St. John.

Acts.

Romans.

Phtxippians.

xviii. 26. 603

vii. 59, 651

viii. 14,

113

ii. 5-11, 140

28, 128

viii. 1, 252

19,

476

8, 638, 650

31, 606, 616

2, 657

ix. 1,

422

9, 650

xix. 1, 624

5, 179

5,

422

iii. 12, 429

3, 626

27, 506

6,

108

10, 627

39, 122

xiii, 1,

524

C0I.0SSIANS.

11, 627

ix. 25, 362

xiv. 17,

458

iv. 11, 45

13, 173, 620

34. 555

xvi. 13,

635

14. 131, 628
19, 69, 642
23, 99
25, 99, 130,

x. 1, 2, 224
28, 374
- 34, 324
37, 152, 157

I. Corinthians.
i. 17, 449
26-29, 16fi

I. Thessalonians/
ii. 9, 283
v. 3, 461, 544

203, 206, 647

38, 263

iii. 11,
13,

372 109

26, 145, 647

39, 157

II. Thessalonians.

27, 129, 647

xi. 3, 325

22,

476

ii. 2, 544

28, 429

4, 252

-v. 7,

130, 695

29, 650
5, 383
vii.,
471
I. Timothy.
30, 651
5-9, 341
ix.,
471
i. 20, 635
31, 657. 691, 693
xii. 2, 488
5,
194, 244
iv. 15, 84
39, 166
4, 696
9,
258
40, 658
13, 601
15-19,
283
II. Timothy.
41, 658
xiii. 1, 189, 302
x.4.
372
ii. 8. 98
xx. 1, 660
6, 45, 50
16,
564
. 26, 199
7, 658
15, 184
xi. 10,
686
iii. 15. 92
11-18, 662
23, 37
23,
564, 695
iv. 8, 487
13, 145
50, 328
25,
564
15, • 145
xiv. 19, 331
xv. 3-8,
670
Titus.
17, 572, 663
xv. 7, 373
u
163
i. 12, 682
- 22, 374
xvi. 1, 506
661, 664
iii. 5, 109
23, 374
10, 383
5,
664
24, 173
13, 202
7,
98, 670
Hebrews.
xxi. 1-24, 667
18, 193
10,
449
i. 1, 234
2, 128, 136
xvii. 3. 247
22,
637
7, 168
4, 670
13, 331
33,
682
ii. 10, 118, 650
7, 311, 586, 661
28, 682
18, 118, 188
15, 668
xviii. 9, 383
iv. 8, 45
15, 116, 118, 188
v. 7, 650
8, 70, 116, 650
ix. 3, 651
12, 395
x. 19, 651
20, 651
xi. 11. 212
30, 463
37, 107
15-17, 372
17, 669
19-23, 373
14, 616
28, 620
xix. 13, 194
II. Corinthians.
i. 20, 140
ii. 2, 423
20, 236, 561
33, 345, 635
iv. 4, 124, 508, 686
Acts.
i. 1, 95
xx. 24, 429
35, 94, 709
xxi. 1, 227, 576
vi. 10,
16.
xi. 5,
476 654373
2, 430
32, 604
9-12,
283
3, 661
34, 427
24,
282, 624
11, 498
38, 504
25,
624
13, 204
xxii. 3, 92
31,
422
18, 610
8, 69
xii. 11,
373
22, 430
22, 187
James.
i. 1, 99
17, 167
ii. 8, 566
10, 529, 531
20, 211
v. 14, 302
ii. 3, 109
10, 635
15, 238
23, 607
30, 37
iii. 22, 109
26, 624
„ 27, 461
xxiii. 2, 604
3, 595
24, 500
27, 513, 606
Galatians.
i. 1, 664
14, 213
ii. 9, 373
11, 373
12, 325. 331
. 24, 252
35, 614
iv. 2,
9,
168
iv. 1,364,513,550
xxiv. 26, 657
421
I. Peter.
5, 364
xxv. 17, 227
vi. 15,
167
i. 3, 167
6, 590, 674
21, 619
7, 109
11, 517
xxvi. 14, 273
19, 138
v. 17, 707
22, 247
Ephesians.
23, 167
24, 550
24, 225
i. 20,
664
ii. 6, 517
28, 675
xxviii. 22, 75
21,
685
7, 517
vi. 9, 635
25, 187
ii. 2,
124
8, 378
12, 513
28, 328
20,
'373, 517
13, 524
14, 163
iii. 10,
234
14, 524
vii. 31, 383
Romans.
iv. 13,
212
23, 651
37, 109
i. 3, 37, 98
17-19,
104
24, 196
45, 45
ii. 28, 108
26,
210
iv. 17, 637
46. 395
iii. 4, 234, 420
v. 3,
710
v. 3, 488
56, 140
iv. 16, 108
14,
637, 698
10, 567
57, 616
v. 20, 420
vi. 12,
686
13, 69
724

N. T. PASSAGES QUOTED OR REFERRED TO.

II. Peter.-

I. John.

Revelation.

Revelation.

i. et seq., 384

iii. 9, 167

iii. 14,

140

xix. 17-21, 459

13, 384

iv. 7, 167

v.6,

130

xx. 12, 456

15, 384

14, 378

vi. 1,

131

15, " 456

16, 378, 384

3,

131

xxi. 1, 476

18, 380, 381

Jutje.

5,

131

6, 416

19, 384

17, 99

7,

131

14, 373

13,

513

xxii, 13, 416

I. John.

Revelation.

vii. 9,

130

16, 98

i. 1, 378

i. 9, 488

xiv. 10,

487

17, 403

ii, 13, 416

13, 140

14,

140

18, 207

29, 167

13-20, 140

AMERICAN APPENDIX.

GIVING FIVE HUNDEED AND SIX TRANSLATIONS OF NON-
ENGLISH MATTER CONTAINED IN FAERAE'S LIFE OF CHEIST.

NOTE BY THE AMERICAN PUBLISHER.

It is due to the gentleman who has furnished the ensuing Transla
tions, to state that he had no voice in determining what was to be
translated. At the time when he consented to undertake the service
which has been so faithfully performed, the passages that were to
receive an English dress had already been numerically designated,
by the undersigned, through a large portion of the work, and those
pages of the reprint had been stereotyped. It was judged that con
sultation with the translator concerning the remaining portion,
inasmuch as it must measurably have disturbed the unity of plan
desirable in such a performance, would be, on the whole, of doubtful
advantage. It is believed that errors of judgment will for the most
part be found to consist in having called for renderings in cases
hardly important enough for such attention. But possible mistakes
of this sort, as none can be harmed by them, afford no just ground
of complaint to any. Taken as a whole, the Translations can not fail
to be of inestimable benefit to every non-classical reader of Farrar's
Life of Christ, who shall peruse the work with the care which its
confessedly exalted merits invite.
Although the regular numbers of the Translations end with " 491,"
it will be noted that there are, additionally, 15 renderings designated
by repetitions of numbers. The latter are distinguished by having
each a dagger (f) or a double dagger (J) attached. The total number
of Translations x&five hundred and six.
E. W.

TRANSLATIONS.

No.

Paoe.

1. Faith remains unmoved  4
2. Interchange  \  5
3. "Communication of idioms," or, communion of attributes  5
4. How ingenious and profound is philosophy in its conjectures ! How
simple do events which appeared most extraordinary become when it
deigns to explain them ! You do not understand how naturally
Christianity propagated itself: Philosophy will enable you to com
prehend the matter. The Apostles said, '¦ We proclaim to you the
Gospel in the name of the Eternal, and you must believe us, for we
are endowed with miraculous power. We restore health to the sick,
the use of their limbs to the impotent, sight to the blind, hearing
to the deaf, life to the dead." At this announcement the people
hurried from all quarters to witness the miracles promised with so
much confidence. The sick were not healed, the impotent did not
walk, the blind did not see, the deaf did not hear, the dead did not
return to life. Then, transported with admiration, the people fell at
the feet of the Apostles, and cried out, ' ' These are manifestly the
messengers of God, the ministers of his power ! " and immediately
breaking in pieces their idols, they forsook the worship of pleasure
for the worship of the cross ; they renounced their habits, their prej
udices, their passions; they reformed their morals and embraced
penitence ; the rich sold their goods in order to distribute the price
of them among the poor ; and all preferred the most horrible tortures
and an infamous death to the remorse of abandoning a religion
which was proved to them in so solid a manner. .  9
5. which may be ascribed either to negligence or to that incaution which
is a part of human nature  12
6. He became man that we might be made like unto God  31
7. Here, from the Virgin Mary, was born Jesus Christ  34
8. "The Clitaeans, a people subject to Archelaus the Cappadocian, ,
aggrieved at being compelled after the Roman manner to make
returns and pay tribute." (Oxford tr., Bohn's Class. Ub.)  35
9. And there are some over-curious ones who even add the day  88
10. in a certain cave quite near to the village  38
11. "Come now, when you read in the words of David, how that the Lord
reigneth from the tree, I want to know what you understand by it.
Perhaps you think some wooden king of the Jews is meant, and not
Christ, who overcame death by his suffering on the cross, and thence
reigned." (Ante-Nic. Lib.)  39

728 TRANSLATIONS.
No. Via*.
12. Now does thy manger shine  39
13. When Christ was born his body was resplendent as the sun when it
rises  39
14. It is credible that some indications of the nativity of Christ appeared
in other parts of the world  40
15. There no midwife, no sedulity of little women intervened  40
16. A virgin before, during, and after parturition  40
17. The bar of modesty remains  41
18. " Between two animals thou shalt be made known "  41
19. The ox and the ass knew that the boy was the Lord  41
20. In so great a multitude of Scriptures we find no Jesus a sinner  45
21. Jesus is honey in the mouth, melody in the ear, a song in the heart. . 45
22. The Great Teacher   47
23. It is not a proper name, but an appellative of power and sovereignty. . 49
24. who by chance were at Athens  50
25. " The majority were deeply impressed with a persuasion that was con
tained in the ancient writings of the priests, that it would come to
pass at that very time, that the East would renew its strength, and
they that should go forth from Judaea should be rulers of the world."
(Oxford tr.)  51
26. " A firm persuasion had long prevailed through all the East, that it
was fated for the empire of the world, at that time, to devolve on
some who should go forth from Judaea." (Bohn's Class. Lib.)  51
27. " an oracle . . . how about that time one from their country
should become governor of the habitable earth." (Whiston's tr.) . . 51
28. " The star of Dionean Csssar has come forth "  52
29. "into the house"  56
80. The Chaldaean kings present to thee prophetic gifts ; thou man receive
the myrrh, thou king the gold, thou God the frankincense  56
31. They bring gifts, frankincense, gold, myrrh, for the king, for the man,
for the God  56
32. They poured forth golden gifts for the new-born king; they gave
frankincense to the God; they allotted the myrrh to the sepulchre. . 56
33. " Hail inf ant martyrs ! new-bom victims, hail!
Hail earliest flowerets of the Christian spring!
O'er whom, like rose-buds scattered by the gale,
The cruel sword such havoc dared to fling."
(Chandler's Hymns of the Primitive Church.) 57
34. out of Egypt I called his children  59
85. "he dispatched the assassins "  59
36. ' ' he grew so choleric that it brought him to do all things like a mad
man "  62
37. ' ' he was in great consternation himself, and inflamed upon every sus
picion "  62
38. For translation see text  62
S9. "Now there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to
call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of
such men as receive the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 729

No

Page.
both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles. He was [the]
Christ. And when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men
amongst us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him
at the first did not forsake him ; for he appeared to them alive again
the third day, as the divine prophets had foretold these and ten thou
sand other wonderful things concerning him. And the tribe of
Christians, so named from him, are not extinct at this day "  63
40. "the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ "  63
41. The purport of this passage is sufficiently indicated in the text  64
42. The epithet " Great " which history has given to him is a bitter deris
ion ; his greatness consisted in being a magnificent slave, bearing
chains of gold  65
43. The height of perfection consists in participating in the sacred child
hood of our very gentle, very humble, and very obedient Servant . . 67
44. In the city so great is the beauty of the Hebrew women that among
Hebrew women hone more beautiful can be found, and this, they
say, is vouchsafed to them by the holy Mary. ... A province like
to paradise in respect to wheat, in respect to the produce of the fields
like to Egypt, but of surpassing excellence in respect to wine and
oil, fruits and honey  68
45. "being the interpreter of Peter, whatsoever he recorded he wrote with
great accuracy, but not, however, in the order in which it was spo
ken or done by our Lord." (Cruse's tr.)  69
46. He learned from what he suffered  70
47. Beware of all things apocryphal. Know that mixed with them is much
that is bad, and that it is the part of stupendous wisdom to search for
gold in mud   71
48. To search for gold in mud  71
49. in secret  74
50. by the prophets  76
51. He came to save all, infants, and little children, and boys, and youth,
and those of riper years ; for that reason he passed through every
stage of life   77
52, 53, 54. Possession of understanding ; completeness (of reasoning pow
ers) ; the zenith, or end of growth (both of the understanding and
reason)  78
55. Having already completed the twelfth year  78
56. On the part of women the observance of the passover is voluntary  78
57. the parents  ¦"  81
58. Joseph and his mother  81
59. The wisdom in question is not the wisdom according to the world, but
the wisdom according to God. It is neither that proud philosophy
of which Greece boasted, and which it so carefully inculcated on the
rising generation ; nor that worldly wisdom by which the children
of this generation surpass the children of light ; nor that book-learn
ing which scholars amass with so much toil ; nor even the specula
tive knowledge of God and of the mysteries of his Word. It is a
question here of that wisdom so often praised in the books of king
92

730 TRANSLATIONS.
No. Page.
Solomon, whose first lesson is, "Fear God, and keep his command
ments "  82
59f. ' ' have sought [thee] sorrowing "  84
60. Growing in common with all men  86
61. "He was in the habit of working as a carpenter when among men,
making ploughs and yokes; by which he taught the symbols of
righteousness and an active life." (Ante-Nic. IM.)  88
62. If thou dost wish to be divine, he hid as God [does]  89
63. "Thou, man, of nature so exalted, if thou understandest thyself". . . 89
64. with his own hands  92
65. with his finger he wrote the sins of each one of them  93
66. "It was hard to remember the exact words of what was said "  94
67. It is sweeter to do good than to receive good  94
68. Whether Christ read Plato or Terence  94
69. Human nature, having passed through every form of vice, stood in
need of care  104
70. ' ' being past feeling "  104
71. "villainy should be exposed while it is punished, but turpitude con
cealed "  104
72. Cannot with propriety be even arraigned in public  104
73. hardness of the heart  104
74. petrifaction  104
75. Overlearning does not train the spirit  106
76. But the fact that Jesus likewise did not subjectively stand in need of
the higher learning of that time, shows to us only so much the more
clearly what a spirit ruled in him from the beginning  106
76f. " In respect of his corruption, and his acts of insolence, and his rapine,
and his habit of insulting people, and his cruelty, and his continual
murders of his people untried and uncondemned, and his never-end
ing, and gratuitous, and most grievous inhumanity." (Yonge's tr.
in Bohn's Eccl. Lib.)  107
76J. " He cuts off by anticipation every even attempt at self-excuse "  108
77. Thou to me ? the gold to the mud ? the torch to the spark ? the sun to
the lamp? the Son to the slave ? the Lamb without spot to the sin
ner ?  m
78. that the water may be purified  HI
79. Christ is baptized not that he may be purified by the water, but that
he may himself sanctify the water  HI
80. In baptism the water does not- so much wash as be washed ; the streams
are cleansed rather than cleanse  HI
81. Know that the master of the house performs divine worship in behalf
of the whole household  112
82. "not because he needed such things . . . but because of the human
race "  112
83. Not by a rending asunder of the elements, but by spiritual vision  112
84. The spirit of Jesus is the spirit of the dove  , 113
85. The voice of the turtle-dove is the voice of the holy spirit  112
86. Christ was so tempted in order that the Christian might not be over-

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 731
No' Paoe.
come by the Tempter  113
87. "No destroyer of the desert [or] ravisher of the plain injured me"... 113
88. The life of man on earth is a warfare  118
89. Christ could be tempted, but delight in sin did not take hold of his
mind. Accordingly, that entire temptation by the devil was from
without, not from within  119
90. ' ' the prince of the powers of the air "  124
91. " in a moment of time "  124
92. they pass by in a moment  124
93. " What to write to you, conscript fathers, or in what manner to write,
or what altogether not to write at this juncture, if I can determine,
may all the gods and goddesses doom me to worse destruction than
that by which I feel myself consuming daily. With such just retri
bution did his crimes and atrocities recoil upon himself. For assur
edly not his imperial fortune, not his inaccessible solitude, could
prevent Tiberius from acknowledging the anguish of his breast, and
the penalties he had brought upon himself "  j.  125
94. Had he not had " something starry " in his countenance and eyes, the
Apostles would never have forthwith followed him, nor would they
who had attained to a knowledge of him have fallen away  127
95. "only begotten God"  128
96. "the only begotten Son "  128
97. "I knew him not "  129
98. a Lamb (a diminutive)  .'  130
99. a Lamb  130
100. The first-called  131
101. We have found the Messiah  132
102. "successfully guiding his tongue in foreknowledge of destiny "  132
103. "without beauty, without glory, without honor "  133
104. '' in appearance he was base "  133
105. " His body had no human handsomeness, much less any celestial
splendor"  133
106. "His body was small, and ill-shapen, and ignoble "  133
107. We accounted him as if leprous, smitten of God and abased  133
108. Inasmuch as he was endowed with leprosy by God the Almighty. ... 134
109. To our beloved sons the lepers  134
110. "was minded to go forth." (Alford's tr.)  135
111. Not to Peter, a common fisherman, is the noble Bartholomew prefer
red  136
112. [Chance] sister both of Order and Persuasion and daughter of Fore
thought  137
113. under the fig-tree  138
114. He assumed humanity that he might lead man to the Father  140
115. The Son of God became the Son of man, that you who were sons of
man might be made sons of God  140
116. Sons of man (of one who deserves the name of man)  140
117. Sons of man (a human being)  140
118. He truly was the only man whom Adam expected after the fall  140

732 TRANSLATIONS.
No. Page.
119. Whence to your waters comes a flush so new ?
Why glows the purple ? and why hides the blue ?
Who wrought the marvel ? whose the honor due 1
Ye guests, a God is here, each voice be hushed !
"The modest water saw its God and blushed." 141
120. was invited  142
121. " and when wine failed "  143
122. And in consequence of the great number of guests the wine was used
up  143
123. Take courage, 0 woman, and have good heart  144
124. president of a drinking party, master of a feast.  146
125. " the ruler of the feast "  146
126. Himself made wine at the marriage who every year does this on the
vines  147
127. This wine which since that time may ever flow for us also, we should
sadly dilute, were we disposed here coarsely to inquire how mere
water could in an instant become wine : shall, then, water in the
best sense of the word not become wine every where even now
also where His spirit is active in full force ?  147
128. "He went down "  '.  150
129. Why is it called Gennesaret ? On account of the gardens of the nobles.. 151
130. " One may call this place the ambition of nature "  153
131. the passOver of the Jews  157
132. all ; (he drove all out of the temple)  159
133. Is not this revolutionary ?  159
134. This deed of Christ is not to be taken for an example ; He did it not
as a minister of the New Testament but of the Old, and as a disci
ple of Moses  160
135. "Zeal for thy house will consume me." (Noyes' tr.)  160
136. "hath eaten me up"  160
137. it is written (a periphrastic tense-form in the Greek, implying contin
uance.)  160
138. it is written (a simple tense-form. The difference between these two
forms is not easily indicated by a mere translation, and an explana
tion of this difference would here be out of place.)  160
139. The teacher of Israel  166
140. The Church of Christ is not gathered from the Academy and Lyceum,
but from the mean populace  166
141. be lifted up  \  168
142. ' ' shall be taken away "  168
143. "that he might judge" [the world]. (Alford str.)  169
144. that [the world through him] might be saved  169
145. [every one] that doeth evil  169
146. he that doeth the truth  169
147. they that have done good — they that have done evil  169
148. Dost thou wish to pray in the temple ? Pray in thyself, but first be
thou a temple of God  172
149. "When thirst returns, the defect is on the part of the man, not of
the water "  176

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 733
No- Pass
150. Christians sprang from Jews  177
151. his own received him not  180
152. The taste displayed in them is bad enough  182
153. "For in that he hath himself suffered, being tempted." Alford's
translation is : " For he himself having been tempted in that which
he hath suffered "  188
154. " one in all points tempted in like manner." (Alford.)  188
155. "and the poor have the Gospel preached to them." Noyes' transla-
lation is : " and to the poor good tidings are brought "  189
156. of Judaea  191
157. of Galilee  . 191
158. Nothing is more common than for certain things to be omitted by
some, and to be supplied by others . . . lest either the sacred
writers should seem to have written in accordance with a previous
compact, or their readers should cleave to one of them and reject
the rest  191
159. "But we, little fishes, after the example of our fish (ixBvi) (Jesus
Christ, the Son of God, the Saviour) are born in water (the water of
baptism) "  :  199
160. ["He chose his disciples from among those"] "who were sinners
above all sin "  200
161. "He won over to himself only the most worthless characters "  200
162. They are all publicans, all are robbers  200
163. unrestrained robbery, shameless grasping, business having no praise,
reckless trade  201
164. Before the advent of Christ, the Law commanded but did not aid ;
since his advent, it both commands and aids  202
165. "In his solitude he did breathe more pure inspiration, heaven was
more open, God was more familiar "  202
166. in prayer to God  202
167. "in what temple-porch must I seek you ? " (Stirling's tr.) .'  202
168. Zealots among the Jews are the guardians of the Law  205
169. on account of their fiery zeal for their teacher  205
170. the more elect of the elect  206
171. "who was a priest that bore the sacerdotal plate "  206
172. He is not angry with a brother who is angry at the sin of a brother. . 210
173. Let this one example suffice for the many which are every where at
hand  211
174. against all others, bitter animosity  211
175. " not to show the roads unless to one worshipping the. same sacred
things "  211
176. "The almost unconquerable difficulty of the style, the frightful
roughness of the language, and the amazing emptiness and sophis
try of the matters handled, do torture, vex, and tire him that reads
them. They do every where abound with trifles in that manner as
though they had no mind to be read ; with obscurities and difficul
ties, as though they had no mind to be understood ; so that the
reader hath need of patience all along, to enable him to bear both
trifling in sense, and roughness in expression "  215

734 TRANSLATIONS.
No. VAaa.
177. "Wondrous depth of thy words! whose surface, behold! is before
us, inviting to little ones ; yet are they a wondrous depth, O my
God, a wondrous depth ! It is awful to look therein ; an awfulness
of honor, and a trembling of love." (Ante-Nic. Lib.)  216
178. Dwelling with no one, and differing in no respect from one dead. . . 220
179. A prompt echo to the mature faith of the leper  220
180. He says: I will, on account of Photinus; He commands on account
of Arms ; He touches on account of Manichseus  220
181. He performed Ms first miracles without delay, that he might not seem
to perform them with difficulty  220
182. Being the Lord of the Law He is not its servant but its Maker  220
183. looking upon him sternly and shaking his head at him  222
184. "He who does a thing by the agency of another person, does it him
self"  223
185. as each one remembered or as each one pleased  223
186. Whether God's Scripture would be likely to speak with us otherwise
than according to our manner  223
187. In the light of expressions of this kind, which are different, out not in
opposition, we learn that in examining the words of each [Evangel
ist] nothing should be taken into account except the import  223
188. There may be many things diverse but none adverse  223
189. "The least of that which is greatest is greater than the greatest of
that which is least "  233
190. He heard the Pharisee thinking  238
191. Christ's suffering is our exemption from suffering, . . . and his tears
are our joy  242
192. He was teaching while walking  242
193. Behold What a Man. An Historical Picture  242
194. many others  244
195. " The cohorts which yielded their ground in time of action, he deci
mated, and fed with barley "  247
196. He commanded that barley should be given to the cohorts which had
deserted their standards  247
197. in which the flute-players deposited the mouth pieces of their flutes. 248
198. Believe me, true joy is a stem reality.  250
199. Narrations of our Lord's sayings  251
200. ' ' And as they were going on the way. " (Ainslie's tr.)  256
201. A father is to be loved, but the Creator is to be preferred  256
202. ' ' He steadily shall cut the furrow true,
Nor towards his fellows glance a rambling view." (Elton's tr.) 257
203. "insomuch that the ship was being covered with the waves." (Alford.) 258
204. " and the waves beat into the boat." (Noyes.)  258
205. a pillow  258
206. " Then he arose "  258
207. the men  259
208. they are the spirits of wicked men  , . . . . 261
209. " and the chains had been snapped asunder by him, and the fetters
broken in pieces." (Noyes.)  261

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 735
No. • Paot.
210. " immediately there met him "  261
211. " and for a long time wore no garment." (Ainslie's tr. )  261
212. To speak diversely and to speak contentiously are two quite different
things  262
213. See "187," p. 223  262
214. but the [voice] of the demons secretly entering into [them]  262
215. ' ' The complying gods have overthrown'whole families by granting
their wishes." (Stirling's tr.)  266
216. " and long prayers heard by malignant deities "  266
217. " Never be joyful except when you shall look on your brother in love " . 268
218. " a great feast "  270
219. [a patch] of undressed cloth. (Noyes.)  273
220. They press, she touched  276
221. The flesh presses, faith touches  276
222. The flute sounded in the temples, at the games, and on sad funeral
occasions  277
223. [A voice] which three funerals could not drown  277
224. This turn of affairs had then surely not dawned on Mark ; he is no
friend of naked poverty ; . . . but in favor of taking with them a
staff and of putting on sandals he speaks out with great and almost
comic determination  280
225. But Peter answered and said to him, " But how then if the wolves
should tear the lambs ? " And Jesus said to Peter, "Let not the
lambs fear the wolves when the lambs are once dead "  281
226. every malefactor carried out his own cross  282
227. ' ' And therefore the Jewish teachers have fallen into countless absurd
ities, saying that a shoe of such a kind was a burden, but not one
of another kind "  286
228. "waiting for"  286
229. " is troubled "  287
230. they offer frigid traditions  289
231. endless talk  289
232. A lamp does not lend light to the risen sun  292
233. It is not lawful  297
234. " And a convenient day having come." (Noyes.)  298
235. "Behold a fair and melting maid,
Bound 'prentice to a common trade ;
Ionian artists at a mighty price
Instruct her in the mysteries of vice,
What nets to spread, where subtle baits to lay,
And with an early hand they form the temper'd clay." (Francis1 tr.) 299
236. "Everything that may contribute to thy happiness shall be at thy
service, and that cheerfully, and so far as my ability will reach " . . 300
237. "But, although he had prepared before hand what he would ask,
yet had he not discovered his intentions "  300
238. being "mightily taken with Agrippa's obliging behavior, and on
other accounts thinking it a dishonorable thing to be guilty of

736 TRANSLATIONS.
No. • PAa*
falsehood before so many witnesses." (Whiston's tr.)  300
239. As if she would, with a great crime, give an added joy to that feast. 300
240. " straightway with haste "  300
241. It empties into a lake, which many call Gennesaret, sixteen miles in
length, six miles in breadth, surrounded by pleasant towns, — on
the East, Julias, etc  306
242. "The Jews whose wealth is a basket and a truss of hay "  309
243. What is not real but apparent  311
244. on the lake  312
245. His grace is not taken by mouthfuls  314
246. Unwritten babblings received by tradition from without  322
247. His meek and true piety was opposed to all exaggeration, and espe
cially to rigorous fastings  324
248. "who devoured thy living with harlots." (Noyes.)  337
249. He who extends not his hand to the sinner — breaks the bruised reed;
he who despises the spark of faith in the little ones, quenches the
smoking flax  ¦  328
250. I was a mason, seeking a livelihood with my hands. I pray thee,
Jesus, restore to me soundness of body that I may not basely beg
my food  835
251. " Superfluity of voluntary ceremonialism "  341
252. If thou dost open thyself from within, thou wilt find a certain store
house of evil things which is many-colored and liable to many
impressions . . . base things not flowing in from without, but
having, as it were, native and indigenous springs, which depravity
sends forth  341
253. purging [all meats]  341
254. "purging," "rendering clean"  341
255. the draught, drain, or sewer. (Alford, adopting — correctly, no
doubt — the masculine form of the Greek participle, and connecting
it with the word translated " sewer," adds : The dqoESpaov (sewer) is
that which, by the removal of the part carried off, purifies the meat ;
the portion available for nourishment being in its passage converted
into chyle, and the remainder being cast out)  ... 341
256. If without rank, if without fame, if without honor, Christ shall be
mine  342
257. Those whelps bark just as they have been taught by these dogs  346
258. Near the sword, near to God  351
259. "And as he came out thence"  353
260. "began to be very spiteful, and to press him to speak off hand about
many things." (Noyes.)  354
261. to get the upper hand of him from what he should say  354
262. " When the multitude was gathered together in myriads." (Alford.) 354
263. leaving them  366
264. leaving them  366
265. "the ever warm-hearted, the coryphaeus of the Apostolic choir " . . . . 371
266. [Jesus] began to show  375
267. " And he spake that saying openly "  375

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 737
No- Paob.
268. [But Peter] ' ' taking him aside. '' (Noyes.)  376
269. began to rebuke  376
270. began to teach   376
271. was transfigured  382
272. And behold!  382
273. they are the visions of prophets, such visions as prophets see when
awake  333
274. A very weighty word, in which is contained the passion, the cross,
the death, the resurrection, the ascension  384
275. ' ' After the death, or rather the disappearance of Romulus "  384
276. an eye-witness  384
277. The end of the Law is Christ ; the Law and Prophecy are from the
Word ; but what began from the Word ends in the Word  384
278. Elijah the Tishbite  385
279. a time of restoration  385
280. But some say that his fac'e, being rendered more blooming by the
light, attracted the multitude  386
281. " he is a lunatic and is sorely afflicted." (Noyes1 tr.)  387
282. original estate  387
283. fallen estate  387
284. A difficult reading takes precedence of one that is easy  387
285. and fasting  388
286. Who has not learned in the course of an active life, that, according
to circumstances and persons, he who refuses cooperation and
stands aloof, sometimes gives support and strength, sometimes, on
the contrary, does harm and imposes trammels  390
287. "two rules of proselytism in direct contradiction. . . . An im
passioned struggle almost necessarily leads to such contradictions." 390
288. "For while Pompey declared that he would consider those as enemies
who did not take arms in defence of the republic, he desired it to
< be understood that he should regard those who remained neuter as
Ms friends "  390
289. Go thou and know that, in another kingdom, we are kings and sons
of the king  392
290. Behold ! an Innocent one among sinners ; a true man among the false ;
a pious man among the impious  396
291. See "284," p. 387  398
292. And where has the scripture said that [out of his belly shall flow]
rivers [of living water] ? Nowhere  403
293. In very many manuscripts there are variants for nearly every word. . . 406
294. in many manuscripts both Greek and Latin  407
295. as if He who said: Henceforth sin no more, had granted permission
to sin  414
296. It could excite no ordinary scruple in unthinMng readers  414
297. Light furnishes evidence for itself : . . it is its own witness, that the
light may be known  415
298. "While the souls of those [whose hands have acted madly against
themselves] are received by the darkest place in Hades "  416
93

738 TRANSLATIONS.
No. Pack,
299. Not that he did not utter these words concerning Herod, but that in
the person of Herod which they (the Pharisees) assumed, he marked
and confuted them  429
300. There are few examples in history of an entire race thus crushed. . . . 434
301. It is no part of religion to compel religioV  436
302. "even as Elias did"  437
303. "another"  ,  438
304. "thou art set free." (Noyes.)  442
305. ' ' they were filled with madness "  445
306. The comparative is often so limited, that the one and indeed the less
important of two things compared is denied, while the other to
which excellence is to be ascribed, is affirmed  449
307. "they derided Mm"  451
308. Figurative is not didactic theology  452
309. There is need of a few things ; there is need of a few things or of one
thing  462
310. Lo! the Jews understood what the Arians do not understand  465
311. "for every cause "  468
312. "for any cause whatsoever "  '  468
313. " Before the tribunal of conscience "  468
314. in a civil court  468
315. " they guard against the lascivious behavior of women "  473
316. " Why askest thou me concerning the good? " (Ainslie's tr.)  474
317. He loved him, or he kissed him  474
318. ["I looked and I beheld] the shade of him
Who made through cowardice the great refusal." 475
319. " Forthwith I comprehended, and was certain,
That this the sect was of the caitiff wretches
Hateful to God and to his enemies." 475
(Longfellow's tr. By the "great refusal" lie understands the abdi
cation of the papal office by Pope Celestine V.)
320. ' ' those who trust in riches "  475
321. " I have the keys of death and of Hades. " (Alford and Ainslie.) ... . 477
322. "greatly moved within himself." (Noyes.)  480
323. All the members of the Sacerdotal order that could be found were
put to death. Hanan and Jesus, the son of Gamala, underwent
frightful insults ; their bodies were deprived of sepulture, an out
rage unheard of among the Jews. Thus perished the son of the
principal author of the death of Jesus. This was the end of the
Sadducean sect, a sect often haughty, selfish, and cruel. With
Hanan perished the old Jewish priesthood, enfeoffed to the great
Sadducean families. Profound was the impression when those
aristocrats, so highly respected, were seen cast naked out of the
city, given up to the dogs and the jackals. It was a world (monde)
wMch disappeared. Incapable of forming a state by itself, it was
destined to reach its goal at the point where we see it the past
eighteen centuries, that is to say, by living as a parasite in the
republic of others  >  484

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 739
No. Paoi.
. 324 "Those mighty voices three, "
Have pity, Lord, on me !
Arise, he calleth thee !
Thy faith hath savSd thee ! 486
325. "and they that followed "  486
326. A bath ("a baptism ") of blood  487
327. " whatever fraudulent gain I ever made from any one "  491
328. asinine worsMppers  499
329. an ox  500
330. a horse  500
331. a beast of burden  500
' 332. a young horse  500
333. " for all the people hung upon Mm listening." (Noyes.)  506
334. hung on the lips  506
385. A youth to be praised, adorned, lifted up  508
336. The late fruits remain on the tree through the winter, and in summer
they ripen among the leafy branches and leaves  511
337. who said Herod was Christ  521
338. Wherever the coinage of any king is accepted, there the residents
recognize that king as sovereign  524
339. " So as to render to Caesar indeed money, to God yourself "  525
340. "they make broad their phylacteries "  530
341. From the womb did I beget thee before the Morning-star  531
342. "who walked with his back bent as if he bore upon his shoulders the
entire weight of the Law "  535
342f. ' ' Suddenly the portals of the sanctuary were flung wide open, and
a voice, in more than mortal accents, was heard to announce that the
gods were going forth." (Tacitus, Hist. v. 13, Oxford tr.)  536
343. Beginning from that moment, hunger, rage, despair, madness inhab
ited Jerusalem. It was a cage of furious mamacs, a city of howl-
ings and of cannibals, a hell  537
344. As the Church of God was now germinating most fully through the
whole world, the Temple, as if worn out and empty and fit for no
good use, was destined, by the sentence of God, to be taken away. 538
345. ' ' a temple of immense wealth "  540
345f. The last day is Mdden, that all days may be observed  542
346. " Communication of idioms," or, communion of attributes  542
347. "for these things must first come to pass ; but not immediately is the
end." (Noyes.)  543
348. " not yet is the end "  543
349. the preludes of the Messianic travail  544
350. "fertile in vicissitudes, pregnant with sangmnary encounters, em
broiled with intestine dissensions, and, even in the intervals of
peace, deformed with .horrors "  544
351. " cities overwhelmed or swallowed up "  544
351t. they appointed for him  :  551
352. He did not eat the lamb provided by law . . . but Mmself suffered
as a true lamb  554

740 TRANSLATIONS.
No. PA3«.
353. "And do thou, when thou hast returned tome, strengthen thy breth
ren." (Noyes.)  567
354. 'Epaorav denotes a familiar mode of asking, such as is usual between
persons in conversation. It is often applied to the prayers of Jesus,
once only to the prayers of the faithful  572
355. to believe on  572
356. " I ascend to my Father and your Father "  572
357. He does not say our Father ; in one sense, therefore, mine, in another
sense yours ; mine by nature, yours by grace  572
358. We through Him ; He first and with absolute singleness  572
359. "I kept them [in thy name] and guarded them." (Noyes.) ........ 572
360. ' ' He had no horror at death simply, . . . our sins, the load of wMoh
was laid upon Mm, pressed Mm down with their enormous weight." 573
-361. "He began to be sorrowful and full of anguish." (Noyes.)  576
362. "to be in great consternation "  576
363. soul  576
364. ' ' and he was withdrawn from them "  576
865. ' ' and kneeled down "  576
366. "and fell on his face"  576
367. "was heard by reason of his godly reverence." (Noyes, who adds:
"Otherwise, was heard [and delivered] from what he feared."
Alf ord's translation is : " having been heard by reason of his rev
erent submission;" Ainslie's : "and was delivered from what he
feared ")  576
368. sweat looking like blood  577
369. " His sweat was as it were great drops of blood "  577
370. A cowardly sweat betrayed the fear with which He encountered
death ; I die unruffled  578
371. [" Thrice happy they beneath their northern skies,
Who that worst fear, the fear of death despise ;
Hence they no cares for this frail being feel,
But] rush undaunted on the pointed steel;
Provoke approaching fate, and bravely scorn
To spare that life which must so soon return." (Rome's tr.) 578
(The passage has reference to the Druids and their notions of the
life to come.)
372. " Then the band and the captain "  581
373. " Captains of the temple "  581
874. " Now those that kept watch in the temple [came hereupon runmng]
to the captain of the temple, and told him [of it "]  581
375. the comrade is not altogether a friend  582
376. Dear Lord, if thou dost honor
Thy foe with name of friend,
Then tell the name thou gives
To those who love thee ever,
Who praise thee without end. 582
877. "if thou art able "  582
378. See note 2, p. 416  582

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 741
No. Paoi,
379. "sufferye thus far"  682
380. Lord  582
381. " was found attempting to conceal himself, and endeavoring to escape
in a most disgraceful manner "  583
381f. " these detested chief-priests "  591
381L hterally  596
882. A million broken hearts and [weeping] eyes have not yet atoned for
his death  600
383. He who says many things embraces the few ; he who says few things
does not deuy the many  601
384. " who are very rigid in judging offenders above the rest of the Jews . " 606
385. " Ye, by the hand of godless men, crucified." (Noyes.)  607
386. [" As for Nero], now at length, after the impious deed was completed,
he became sensible of its enormity "  609
387. unless he closed Ms nostrils with Ms hands  610
388. [Christ] "was put to death as a criminal by Pontius Pilate, procurator
[of Judea"]  611
389. by nature unbending and doggedly implacable  613
390. [a palace] " which exceeds all my ability to describe it "  614
391. "it is not possible to give a complete description of these palaces ". . 614
392. [" He also built for Mmself a palace in the upper city, containing]
two very large and most beautiful apartments, to which the holy
house itself could not be compared [in largeness "]  614
393. ' ' the variety of the stones is not to be expressed."  614
394. "and cried out that they could not bear to see him thus destroyed." 616
395. " the cognition of a cause "  616
396. "he sent Mm," "referred the case," (a Roman law-term)  619
397. People doted on miracles, never were they so occupied with omens.
God the Father appeared to have veiled his face ; certain unclean
spirits, certain monsters which had come forth from a mysterious
slime, seemed to wander about in the air  619
398. "and sorely whipped "  620
399. Presenting himself after midmght, when dreams are true  621
400. Toward morning, at which time true visions are wont to be seen .... 621
401. See " 76t," p. 107  622
402. " Stirred up the multitude." (Noyes.)  622
402f. I am prepared for the scourge  624
403. ' ' A scourge of strung bones "  624
404. A scourge knotted with bones of ammals  624
405. Go, lictor, bind his hands  '  624
406. bound to a staket his back being lacerated with rods  624
407. scourged and fastened to the cross  624
407f. "And in their deaths they were also made the subjects of sport " . . 625
408. Moderation among associates  627
409. " and now in fact a Christian in his own convictions "  627
410. the accurate copies  628
411. the original manuscript itself of the Evangelist  629
412. The charge of high treason gave to all accusations their full weight;
or, "a charge which at that time formed the universal resource in

742 TRANSLATIONS.
No. " Page
accusations "  629-
412f. The idle voices of the people are not to be regarded, when they
desire either the acquittal of the guilty, or the condemnation of
the innocent  630
413. Alas ! too easy are ye who suppose that sad accusations of murder can
be removed by the waters of a river !  630
413f. Thou shalt go to the cross  630
414. having fallen into various misfortunes  631
415. Let us beware of an expression so ingenuously impious. There is not
more of vengeance in history than in nature ; revolutions are not
more just than the volcano which belches or the avalanche which
rolls  631
416. " So the soldiers, [out of the wrath and hatred they bore the Jews,]
nailed those they caught, one after one way, and another after
another, to the crosses, by way of jest, when their multitude was
so great, that room was wanting for the crosses, and crosses want
ing for the bodies "  631
417. When, O Jesus, Son of God, thou shall summon [before thee] the
friends and the foes of thy cross, I pray thee to remember me .... 633
418. "over Ms head"  634
419. Let him bear the transom through the city and then be fastened to
the cross  634
420. he came as far as the gate  635
421. Thus having fastened thee to the transom they shall goad thee along
the streets  635
422. a label hanging before him to indicate the cause of his punishment . . 636
423. the physician was set up there where lay the one that was sick  637
424. Servile, infamous, most cruel, most shocking, greatest, severest pun
ishment  638
425. Let the very name of the cross be far away not only from the body of
a Roman citizen, but even from Ms thoughts, his eyes, his ears .... 638
426. While life remains, 'tis well ; grant me but this,
And e'en a seat upon the piercing cross
Shall be to me a joy unfeigned. 638
427. they girded Mm about with a linen cloth  639
428. a cross with three nails  •  639
429. entwined  639
430. to be borne upon the cross   639
431. To sit upon the cross, a death-fraught seat  639
432. " Her teeth from gibbets gnaw the strangling noose,
And from the cross dead murderers unloose."
She endures the steel inserted in her hands. (The allusion is to the
sorceress Erictho.)  640
433. when the cross is slanted and set up  640
434. they raised him up, up, up, to the very top  640
435. " This is the King of the Jews "  642
436. the utmost care  643
437. which the poor in Galilee made use of  643
438. " And the people stood beholding "  643

AMERICAN APPENDIX. 743
No. Page.
439. the rulers and the soldiers  643
440. " mocking, said among themselves "  644
441. Here also I will not forbear to mention that when hanging on the
cross he was stoned by a crowd of boys, by whom he had before
been wont to be received with hymns and praises in the templo
before the commencement of the discourse. ¦.  644
441f. the good robber  645
441J. I am a Roman citizen  645
442. who, from the top of the cross, as if from a tribunal [harangued]
against the crimes of the Carthaginians  645
443. I could believe [that it was a pastime], had not some spit from the
cross at the spectators  645
444. If until now you are searching for a proclamation of the Lord's cross,
the twenty-first psalm can give you satisfaction, containing, as it
does, the whole passion of Christ  648
445. ' ' and filled a sponge with vinegar "  650
446. "onareed"  650
447. " a stalk of hyssop." (Noyes.)  650
448. because he willed, when he willed, as he willed  651
449. He was offered up because he was himself willing  651
450. exchange, transfer, interchange, " communication of idioms, " or, com
munion of attributes  651
451. " The ancient Law and the prophets could not have ceased, unless
He were come who was constantly announced, through the same
Law and the same prophets, as to come "  651
452. Pity is a vice of the soul  652
453. "Nor has he ever had occasion to commiserate and grieve for the
needy one "  652
454. Poverty is an enormous fault, a great disgrace  653
455. We must say a few things respecting Christ as God  656
456. " if he were already dead "  658
457. " Now in the place where he was crucified, there was a garden "  658
458. " Ye have a guard "  660
459. " when it was yet dark "  660
460. ' ' at the rising of the sun "  660
461. " O dull of apprehension, and slow of heart to believe "  662
462. to go  662
463. to see  662
464. The Lord  662
465. It is forbidden to touch the Lord ; we do not touch Mm, as Lord, cor
poreally, but by faith  663
466. my Father and your Father  663
467. ' ' And they worshipped him "  663
468. one hundred and sixty  665
469. " and they stood sad." (Noyes.)  665
470. " he appeared in another form "  665
471. I am not an incorporeal Divinity  666
472. "flesh and bones"   '.  '¦  666

744 TRANSLATIONS.
No. Pabb-
473. "blood "  666
474. ' ' and of a honeycomb "  666
475. They doubted in order that we might, not doubt  670
476. A study of the inscription has led me to believe that the Evangelist
could not have erred so gravely as some able critics think  675
477. ' ' By his poverty endured with humility, by the sweetness of Ms char
acter, by the opposition which he made to the hypocrites and
priests, Hillel was the real teacher of Jesus, if we may say teacher
when speaWng of so lofty an originality "  676
478. "Hillel, however, will never be considered the real founder of Chris-
tiamty. In morality, as in art, words are nothing, deeds are every
thing. Truth becomes of value only if it pass to the condition of
feeling, and it attains all its preciousness only when it is realized in
the world as a fact "  677
479. The gentleness and mildness of Jesus remind one of Hillel, whom he
seems generally to have taken for a master  677
480. He kept wagging the tail of the beast, in order to conceal its sex — -679
481. He taught for a year, and perhaps also a few months  688
482. He had need to preach a year only, and this is so written : He hath
sent me to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord  688
483. forty  "  688
484. motive of existence  689
485. A leading characteristic of the Pharisees, to manipulate the obligations
of the Law in the interest of new wants  689
486. Hypocrisy is a vice to which men are by nature very much inclined ;
if its attempted justification is rested altogether on sacred authority,
as here, it cannot fail to take hold of all ranks  691
486f. ' ' on the first day of unleavened bread, on which they slew the lamb
at even, just as had been enjoined by Moses "  695
487. He did not eat the passover prescribed by Law  697
488. The best of men have been Jews ; also the worst men have been Jews.
A strange race, truly marked with the seal of God, which has
known how to produce, side by side and like two shoots from one
and the same stalk, the nascent Church and the fierce fanaticism
of the revolutionists of Jerusalem, Jesus and John of Giscala, the
Apostles and the blood-thirsty Zealots, the Gospel and the Talmud!
Is it astonishing if that mysterious gestation was accompanied with
such excruciating pains, delirium and fever, as was never seen ?. . 704
489. We may say of this race whatever good we will and whatever evil
we will, without deviating from the truth ; for the good Jew is an
excellent being, and the bad Jew is a detestable being. This it is
which explains the possibility that the Gospel idyl and the horrors
related by Josephus • may have been realities on the same earth,
among the same people, at about the same time  704
490. There is no trace of the Sanhedrin in the whole period of the Herods
and the Romans  706
491. ["There are those] that are called [the sect of] the Pharisees, who
were in a capacity of greatly opposing kings "  707

CORRECTIONS.

Page 135, note 2, read : tiSiktiTcv.
Page 135, note 3, line 4, read: BrjScraMat.
Page 272, line 7, for "than " read : that.
Page 308, note 3, read: ei\6yi)o-ev.
Page 333, note 1, for "Mog." read: Moy.
Page 353, note 1, for " Vol. II., page 246," read: pp. 533, 534.
Page 453, third line from end of text, for "those " read: those who.
Page 479, note 3, line 2, read : /ierpion-afleia.
Page 546, last line, read: -yiVao-fle.
Page 658, note 4, read: Gamaliel.
Page 731, Tr. No. 94, read : . . . nor would they who had come to apprehend him have
fallen prostrate.
Page 740, Tr. No. 376, line 3, for " gives " read: givest.
Page 742, Tr. No. 417, for " shall " read : shalt.
Page 744, Tr. No. 486, read: . . . if it is thoroughly favored as here by consecrated
authorities.

DI

/give thefe Book
tel&f/aiiru&g'if .a. ColUgtfct^jZolmyA

•YiwuE-wannwERainnf- • ILllIBIf&&IRir •

From the estate of
PROFESSOR WILLISTON WALKER
1924

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